#Big is out of the picture. Now if Vegas moves ahead with anything to do with Tawan or anything to hurt Kinn - Big is nowhere near

[laesas]

Do you guys ever think about Ken's devastated expression when he sees Kinn alone in the parking lot? When Big, who would have followed Kinn to the ends of the earth, isn't with him?

[space-helen]

Back To Vegas - Chapter 4

Words: 1948

Pairing: Nick Stokes x reader

A/N: Case is unfolding now!! I promise there’ll be more Nick and Reader moments in the next chapter

CH1     CH2      CH3     CH4    CH5   CH6   CH7   CH8

______________________

“Y/N?” You looked up from the evidence gathered at Hallie’s house that was out on the table.

“Greg?”

“New DB just came in. Want to join me?” he questioned stepping into the room. 

You looked at Grissom opposite you and he gestured towards Greg “Go. I’ll be ok with this. Catherine will be back in a second anyway.”

You stood and began to leave, Greg leading the way. “You wanna drive?”

“Uhh I think you should. I still don’t know Vegas that well.”

The man laughed “You’ll get to know it soon enough. I’m surprised Nick hasn’t taken you on a tour yet.” 

You got into the car with the man “Well we haven’t exactly had the time yet.”

“I was going to ask Nick if he wanted to come hiking soon and you’re more than welcome to join to.” The man started the engine.

“I’ll ask him later. Thank you”

“My pleasure. So Y/N tell me what sort of stuff are you into?”

The entire car ride was spent talking about your hobbies and getting to know the man, allowing him to talk about the history of Vegas and his friendship with Nick.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make too much of an effort to get to know you. Or come and see you and Nick. I was actually kind of nervous. I knew you were a big part of his life and I didn’t want to scare you away or something.”

“Don’t apologise or worry about it. It would have been nice to get to know you sooner, don't get me wrong. But you and Nick were always calling each other so I feel like I know you anyway.”

“Same to you. He spoke about you a lot, you know. Still does.”

You rolled your eyes “As much as I love the man can we move away from the relationship talk? I feel like I’ve been grilled and questioned by everyone about it.”

“Alright. No relationship talk.” The man pulled into the drive of a house. The police presence around the house was instantly noticeable.

“High profile?” 

The man shrugged “I don’t think so.”

The two of you got out of the vehicle and grabbed your kits, quickly moving towards the house.

“Why so many officers?” you questioned an older looking man by the front door.

“The body is fresh. Found by his kid. He was a professor and writer. The kid said he saw a woman leaving.”

You thanked the man and entered the house, Greg right behind you. The two of you saw a teenager in the corridor with a detective “Hi.” you greeted them.

“Sanders and?” the detective enquired.

“Y/L/N” you replied and stretched out your hand. 

He shook it “Wentz” The man turned to the teenager “This is Steff Nichols, Mr Nichols, the vic’s, son.” He turned to the man “Tell them what you saw.”

Steff fidgeted “I came home from tutoring early and shouted for my Dad. I knew he was in, he never leaves on a Thursday night. He has to be home to watch his favourite show. I didn’t hear a response so I looked for him and came to his room and found him on his bed grasping at his chest. I went to run for my bag and cell phone and saw that someone was running down our drive I didn’t chase her I called nine one one and went to try help him.” he was visibly upset.

“Don’t feel bad you did the right thing.” you re-assured “Have you given Detective Wentz a description of what she looked like?”

He nodded “The best I could.”

“Did you touch anything in the room?” Greg asked from beside you.

“No. My focus was on Dad and… he was gone by the time help got here.”

“Did they touch anything?” Greg asked.

“Nothing. Just the father” Wentz replied.

The two of you nodded. “Stay with the detective alright?” Greg told the kid as the two of you continued down the corridor to the room his father lay.

The room was large and the man lay on the floor next to his bed, far from the door. You took a picture as soon as you entered the room. You slowly approached the body and took more as Greg fell into step with you.

Something caught Gregs eye as he approached the opposite nightstand. “Y/N look” he pointed at a vial on the nightstand as he began to rush out of the room “I’ll ask if they left anything.”

You took a picture of the vial before placing your kit down and picking up the vial. Greg was back with you within seconds “They didn’t even take anything out of their packs. Anything they did was over by the body.”

You read the label and passed it to Greg who now had an open evidence bag. “Potassium.” He sealed the bag and read it through the plastic. 

“These cases are more intertwined than we thought.”

“Is it ok if I call Nick? He said that his vic looked like they OD’d but maybe it was something connected to this? Can you call David to check for puncture marks on Hallie?”

He nodded “You call Nick.” Greg brought his phone out of his pocket and walked to the otherside of the room to make his call. Slipping out your phone you quickly called Nick.

“Everything ok?” Nick’s voice was curious

“Yeah.” you pushed some stray hairs back “I’m with Greg with the new DB. We found a vial of potassium here. I know you said your case looked like a general overdose in a motel but be sure to check for Potassium in her bloodstream. We’ll explain more later.”

“Sure, sure. Ours vic had a pretty big concoction of drugs in her stream. We initially thought she was a long time user but she wasn’t at all. I’ll check again for potassium.”

“Thanks Nicky. I’m just finishing this scene and we’ll be back to properly fill you in”

“No problem Darlin’. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you in a bit. Love you.”

“I love you too.” 

With that you hung up the call and turned back around, Greg stood on the other side of the room with a smirk on his face and arms crossed around his chest. “Love you Nicky.” he teased.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face “What? Are you jealous Greggo?”

“Don’t you dare.” he laughed “Let’s get back to the scene shall we?”

You composed yourself “Sure.”

The two of you collected the evidence efficiently and effectively and were soon walking back to the car. Bringing out your phone you checked your messages “Nick says there was potassium in his vic.”

“Right. David said he found puncture marks in Hallie too. This calls for a proper meeting.” Greg slid into the driver’s seat and brought out his phone. He began to frantically tap the screen before locking it and putting it away.

Just as he put it down your phone vibrated and you pulled it out.

“It’s only me.”

You read the text on the screen calling for a team meeting upon your return. 

“I’ll drop the evidence off ready to be properly processed then make my way over to the meeting.” you pulled your seatbelt across as he pulled away from the scene.

“Did Nick tell you about that time he left evidence in his car and-”

“Yeah.” you laughed “He gets pretty embarrassed about it.”

“I would too. It was a rough day.”

“When he told me the story I instantly got second hand embarrassment and it lives in my head rent free now. I’ll never leave evidence in a car.”

The journey was quick and you both leaped out the car. Greg chucked you his keys before rushing inside. You grabbed all of the evidence from the trunk and locked up before following Gregs footsteps inside. 

You quickly dropped off the evidence and hurried to the breakout room. Greg was straight ahead of you at the back centre of the room as you entered. Slipping inside you stood by the door next to Sara.

“I’ve called you here because it looks like all of our cases are linked. Each of them are all linked with a potassium overdose or elevated levels in their stream. Y/N and I just got back from a scene where an older man, a professor and writer was found having a heart attack by his son and he saw a woman fleeing the scene but stayed to help his dad.”

Greg paused and looked around the room before continuing. “We need to find the link between these cases. We’ll all be working together from now on. I want the teams to review all evidence from now on. Finish whatever you were doing and come join Y/N and I with your evidence.”

The group split up and you were soon falling into step with Greg. You spread the evidence out across the table and began to upload the crime scene photos before joining Greg back at the table.

Nick was the first to join you. He placed a box of evidence down on the table and stood beside you. Sara and Grissom were quick on his heels with more boxes. Nick’s hand settled on the small of your back as he leaned forward and used his free hand to sift through some evidence.

Sara got to work looking through all of the crime scene photos and Catherine was soon coming into the room with armfull’s of paperwork.

The team worked effortlessly together. Looking through evidence and moving around the room smoothly, lending knowledge effectively and researching as appropriate.

You pulled out the picture strip found on Hallie and looked over the faces with her in the booth. “This face is familiar.” you showed Greg next to you.

He took the strip from your hands “That’s Shana. The first vic. The teacher.” He held up the strip to the room “We’ve found out first link. Find out how they know each other.”

Catherine took the strip from Greg “On it.”

People began to leave the room, finding new clues and going to research them Greg had to excuse himself to take a call but he was soon returning.

“Sara, Y/N.”

“Yep.”

“New Dead body for you both. Could be connected.”

The two of you were soon leaving. “I never thought something like this would be my first case in Vegas.” you admitted to Sara.

“Vegas is different.” Sara laughed “It’s thrown us all straight into the deep end.”

“You can say that again.” 

The scene was a small nicely furnished home. It wasn’t high end but not low end either. The surrounding houses were full of families. The victim was Tessa Spencer, a woman in her 30s found dead in her living room by her brother. Sara and you processed the scene swiftly.

“Do you have any idea who could have done this? Did she have any enemies?” Sara questioned Tessa’s brother, Julian.

“A lot of people liked her. She was a really good person.”

“I know but you really need to think for us. Is there anyone who would want to see her hurt?”

He sighed. “I know she had a disagreement with our cousin last week. She mentioned it over the phone. The two have never really got on. She’s definitely spiralled over the years.”

“Would you say your cousin is capable of murder?”

“Yeah. Most definitely. They were on trial a couple of years ago”

“Who?”

“Hannah West”

Sara’s head snapped to Julian “I beg your pardon.”

Next Chapter

Tag List: (open)

CSI:

Nick Stokes: @wanniiieeee​  @pumpkinfriend

[prettyboyjackhughes]

-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 1]

It’s finally here! @workhorsefromwhitehorse24​ and I have been working on this for a while now and I can honestly say that this is probably my favorite thing we’ve collaborated on! This was a little outside my comfort zone but I enjoyed writing it so much! Hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!!

“Ava Grace I’m home!” Dad calls from downstairs. I sit up and grab my sweatshirt off of the floor. 

“Coming!” I say as I pull it over my head and run out into the hall. I attempt to make it down the stairs without dying but almost fail as I get to the bottom step. “Whoops! Sorry!” I yell as I knock one of the pictures off the wall. He stands in the kitchen doorway and watches me, amused, as I fix the picture then turn to face him, a grin on my face. He had been gone for 2 weeks on a 5 game road trip, resulting in the Penguins going 4-1. Dad scored a pair of goals in the first two games. But sadly, it wasn’t enough of a push to get them to the playoffs. 

“Hi Daddy!” I say, running to hug him. He lifts me off the ground and kisses the top of my head. Dad and I have always been super close. It’s been just him and I for years. Ever since I was born, it’s just been Dad and I. Grandma and Grandpa were always in the picture too, along with Aunt Taylor. The 4 of them have been my entire world and my family for the past 17 years. My mom has never been in the picture since she and Dad had me when they were super young, before Dad was in the NHL. Dad had moved from Nova Scotia by himself when he was 15, down to Faribault, Minnesota. Mom and Dad met within his first week of school. Dad tells me I look just like her but from what I can tell, the older I get, the more I look like Dad. But basically one thing turned to another, Dad had his first taste of freedom, being away from his parents and all, and 9 months later, I was born. As soon as Grandma and Grandpa found out, they moved Taylor and everything else down to be with my dad and help out with me. But one Saturday, Mom dropped me off with Dad and told him she had decided she wanted more than raising a baby and my dad so she left me with Dad and left. I’ve never heard from her, except for one birthday card when I turned 6. Grandma and Grandpa raised me alongside Taylor until Dad’s first season in the NHL. That’s when he moved me to Pittsburgh with him. I mean, before he was in the NHL, he made sure that he was a part of my life and made sure I knew that I was his little girl. But it hasn’t really been that big of a deal that Mom hasn’t been in the picture since I’ve had Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Taylor, plus all of Dad’s teammates through the years. It’s been a ride, having a dad like I do. I mean, he’s pretty much the face of the NHL and one of the greatest players to ever play hockey, being Sidney Crosby and all. Everywhere we go, he gets recognized so it was always hard for him to come to my things as I was growing up. But he always made sure that someone was there for me, whether it was one of my grandparents or Aunt Taylor. But even through all of that, my dad is my best friend. I’ve never needed anyone else. 

“I missed you so much!” He says, setting me down and looking at me. I smile and nod.

“I missed you too! Nice set of goals by the way. Sorry about the playoffs...” I say, smiling as he walks into the kitchen. He shrugs as I follow him into the kitchen and sit down at the table, watching him wander around the kitchen, making one of his shakes he always drinks.

“It was a long two weeks for sure, but I’m glad I have you to come home too.” I nod and smile.

“Oh Sweetheart, before I forget, we’re going up to Toronto next weekend for the Leafs’ first playoff game, for your birthday. We’ll spend two weeks up in Toronto.” The Penguins missed out on the playoffs, ending their season early. But my Leafs made it to the first round of the playoffs. He smiles as my face lights up. The Toronto Maple Leafs are my favorite team. As disappointed as Dad was in me when he found out, he still supports it, just happy that I like hockey. My favorite player is Mitch Marner, which is a player Dad approves of. He raised me on the ice, around his team and made sure I loved hockey as much as he does. I played for 6 years but I decided I liked watching hockey better than playing. 

“Really? We are?” I say, giddy. 

“Yep, I think Tanger and Geno are going to come with us. I invited Taylor too, figured we could make a whole vacation of the trip. We can go out to dinner, shopping, all the fun, girly stuff you love. Oh and there’s a surprise flying out to see you too.” Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin are Dad’s alternate captains and my honorary uncles. Up until about 4 years ago, I had 3 honorary uncles. Marc-André Fleury, the Penguins' goalie and now the Vegas Golden Knights’ goalie was the third. He and Dad are still close which means he still claims the third honorary uncle spot. When he got married in 2012, I was the flower girl. I’ve actually been in all 3 of my “uncle’s” weddings. They’ve been a huge part of my life since I was little, even when Dad was trying to keep me out of the spotlight.  I smile, pushing my hair out of my face. I think the thing that everyone always finds so interesting about Dad and I, is that he did such a good job keeping me out of the spotlight up until I was old enough to understand what was going on. But as soon as I started going to events with him, everyone knew I was his daughter. I mean, I look and act like a female version of Dad so it makes perfect sense that I’m his daughter.

“Ava girl, do you want to see if one of your friends wants to come with us? Might be a little boring to spend your birthday weekend with a bunch of old people.” Dad says, finally sitting down with his gross shake. I nod and laugh, thinking of who I could invite. I go to Shady Side Academy in downtown Pittsburgh, which is a big, fancy private school. There’s a little over 1,100 kids that go to my school, but only about 70 of them are in my grade. 

“Oh, I’ll invite Carter. Let me text her and see if she can go.” Carter James has been my best friend since 2nd grade. She’s my total opposite and somehow, it works. 

“Okay Honey. I’m going to go lay down for a little bit. Our flight left pretty early this morning so I’m pretty tired. Go ahead and order something for dinner. Anything but pizza please.” I pout a little, my bottom lip jutting out. He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of my head as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I walk out to the living room and flop on the couch, getting on my phone to watch Tik Tok for a while. Suddenly, the door to the house flies open and my Aunt Taylor waltzes in.

“Hello my absolute favorite niece in the entire world!” She calls, dumping her purse and everything in her hands onto the bench by the door. Grandma decorated the entire house. Dad was going to hire a decorator but Grandma insisted and somehow, Dad ended up liking what she did with the place. 

“I’m your only niece so I hope I’m your favorite. But hey Aunt Tay. What’s up?” I asked, sitting up.

“Nothing much. Just came home to drive my big brother crazy and talk about your birthday trip with you. How excited are you? Hey wait, isn’t it your 18th birthday?” I smile and nod again. Aunt Tay is a little scatterbrained and once forgot how old I was turning and bought me a 13th birthday card. I was turning 11. But of course, she always means well and loves me a ton. 

“Carter is coming with us. Do you know what the surprise is? Dad just told me there is one but didn’t say anything else.” Taylor grins as she nods.

“I’m not telling you but just know this, you’re gonna be really really excited.” She says, sitting down on the couch by my feet. 

“So how’s things at school? Still thinking about going to UPenn?” She asks, tapping her thumb against my knee. I sigh.

“Ugh I don’t know anymore. I fell in love with UPenn when I visited there with Grandma last fall but I don’t know if I want to be that far away from everyone. I mean, it’s only 4 hours but going from how things are now to that? That’s a lot to process.” She nods, watching me. 

“Well Honey, you know your dad would make sure you had a car on campus and everything. So you can always come back home and visit. But I mean, it’s been you and your dad since you were a baby. Maybe it’s time to go out on your own a little?” I cringe a little at the thought.

“I don’t wanna leave!” I say, falling into Taylor’s lap and drawing out the end of the word. She laughs and smooths my hair down. 

“We’ll figure something out. You’ve still got time, Ava Grace.” She says and somehow, those words make all the anxiety I have about college and everything else coming up in my future fade to a dull roar instead of the screams it has been for the past couple weeks. I’ve always been able to talk to Dad about anything which is why he and I have such a good relationship now. But the one thing I haven’t been able to talk to him about is college. Dad went straight from high school into the NHL. He always claims to understand but I’m pretty sure it just confuses him sometimes. 

“Okay you two, it’s very hard to sleep when all I can hear is laughing and carrying on.” Dad says, coming back downstairs. 

“Yeah yeah, keep it down, Patrick.” Taylor says, looking up at Dad. Dad hates being called by his middle name which is why Taylor calls him that. He rolls his eyes and bats her hand away as she reaches up to poke him. When the two of them are together, Grandma always says they act like they did when they were little. 

“Have you girls figured out everything for us leaving on Thursday? Ava, is Carter going with us?” I grab my phone off the arm of the couch and turn it on, quickly reading the notifications on the screen.

“Yeah she’s going. And she’s gonna be here in 3, 2, 1!” I count down as the door bursts open again. Carter and my Aunt Taylor are two peas in a pod. They’re practically the same person which is why I love them both so much.

 “Hello Crosby family!” She shouts, sliding across the floor and landing on top of me.

“Oh this is going to be a long two weeks.” Dad says, laughing and rubbing his forehead. 

“So we’re going to Toronto for your 18th birthday? And to see the love of your life? Hell yeah this is going to be a great trip.” Carter says, looking up at me. 

“Okay, Carter James, slow down please.” I say, patting her head. 

“Wait, isn’t the legal drinking age in Canada, 18?” Carter asks, sitting up and looking at Dad.

“Oh my God Sidney Patrick. You’re taking your daughter to Canada to drink for her 18th birthday?” Taylor says, looking over at Dad with a smirk on her face. 

“Taylor Jane, you’d better cut it out or you’re not going anymore.” He says, shaking his finger at her. Carter and I laugh and Taylor rolls her eyes.

“She’s responsible enough to handle this. You two are the ones I have to worry about.” Dad says, pointing at Carter and Aunt Taylor. 

“Tanger and Geno are going too? Oh this is going to be a blast!” Taylor says, rubbing her hands together and grinning evilly. Dad’s head drops into his hands and the 3 of us burst out laughing. Carter and I spend the rest of the evening planning our trip out while Dad and Aunt Taylor watch the St. Cloud game. The week leading up to our trip to Toronto flies by, but my excitement for the game only builds. It’s not the first time I’ve been to a Leafs game, nor is it the first time I’ve gotten to watch my favorite player play. But it’s happening on my 18th birthday and that makes it even more exciting. 

Thursday morning, two days before my birthday, Carter wakes me up by bouncing on my bed. 

“We’re leaving today!” She sings, bouncing more. I roll over and groan. 

“Carter James, it’s too early!” I say, shoving her. She laughs at me and I sit up.

“Come on, we’re going to dinner with the love of your life tonight!” She says. I jump out of bed and look at her, eyes wide. I’m 100% a Mitch Marner fan girl. Carter thinks it’s hilarious but she’s the exact same way for Patrick Kane. We ran into him at the Stanley Cup Finals one year and she was speechless. 

“What are you talking about? Dinner with who?” I ask. Dad walks in and is now standing in my doorway.

“I called in a few favors and we’re going to dinner with Mitch Marner and Morgan Rielly tonight. How does that sound?” He says, as my mouth drops open.

“Oh my God thank you thank you Daddy!” I say, running over to hug him. He smiles and Carter laughs. 

“She’s gonna faint as soon as she sees him. Total freak out.” Carter says, crossing her arms and laughing. 

“I am not! I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just another hockey player. Not like I’m in love with him or anything.” I say, pointing at her. She rolls her eyes and we both laugh.

“Where my favorite birthday girl?” I hear a deep voice call from downstairs.

“Geno, it’s too early for you to be this loud. Shut up.” I hear Taylor say.

“I take it G and Tanger just got here?” Dad calls and Taylor groans in response. 

“Alright girls get ready and we’ll leave in a little over an hour. Go down and say hi to everyone first though.” I nod and follow Dad downstairs, Carter tagging along behind me. 

“Hi Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris!” I say, running to hug both of them as they stand up from where they were sitting on the couch. Taylor is taking up the other end of the couch, facedown in a pillow. “Are you excited for your birthday trip?” Kris asks, patting my back as he hugs me.

“I’m so excited. Do you know what my surprise is? Dad still won’t tell me.” Geno laughs, still too loud for Taylor apparently because a pillow goes flying across the room and just misses his head.

“Tay, go drink some coffee please, you’re being a brat right now.” Dad says, patting her head.

“I know surprise. You like a lot.” Geno says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I raise an eyebrow. I’ve been the victim of one of Dad’s surprises before and let’s just say he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to surprises. 

“Is it bad that I’ve been your best friend for 12 years and I still can’t understand what he’s saying?” Carter asks, leaning over to me. I laugh and Geno looks between the two of us.

“Who you? You Ava’s best friend?” Carter rolls her eyes and nudges Geno, who laughs again and hugs her. “Alright, Little Crosby, let’s get this show on the road.” Kris says, pointing towards the stairs. I smile and rush upstairs to get dressed and grab my bags. I pick out a pair of black leggings and a peach colored Adidas sweatshirt. I change into the clothes and put my pajamas in the dirty clothes. I put on mascara quickly, finishing everything off with some lip gloss. I grab my Birkenstocks and slip them on. 

“Okay, I’m ready!” I call as I drag my bag down the stairs behind me. I again attempt not to die on my way down the stairs. But yet again, I fail.

 “Oh God, Little Crosby.” Kris says, somehow managing to catch me as I trip down the last 3 steps. 

“Your daughter is a human wrecking ball. You know that, right Sid?” Dad laughs and nods.

“I haven’t killed myself yet. So far, we’re safe.” Everyone laughs and I smile. All these people filling this house are my entire family. They’ve raised me and I wouldn’t be who I am without all of them. 

“Okay, let’s get going! Our flight leaves in 45 minutes!” Dad calls, attempting to herd us all towards the door. Taylor has finally had her coffee and returned to the world of the living. 

“Toronto here we come!” She calls as we all get out the door and into the two cars we’re taking. Dad locks the door behind us and turns to look at me.

“You excited, Ava Grace?” I nod and he hugs me to his side.“I hope this lives up to your idea of the perfect 18th birthday.” I laugh and nod again as we head to his car. 

The drive to the airport and the flight to Toronto are pretty boring but Kris and Taylor keep everyone entertained the whole trip. Carter finally crashed after the Red Bulls she had while we were waiting for our flight to get called in the airport, leaving me to my own thoughts pretty much the entire flight. When we land in Toronto, everyone is pretty excited for the next two weeks. 

“Little Crosby surprise time!” Geno calls from the back of our group.

“Geno, we’re still in an airport. Keep it down a little please?” Carter says, patting his arm. Dad scoffs and looks between me and Carter.

“He’s right though, your surprise is right through those doors.” Dad says, pointing towards the exit of the airport. I see Taylor pull her phone out of her pocket and start recording me. I hand my bag to Kris and look over at Geno who motions me towards the door. I walk towards the doors, which slide open. I glanced around then back at Dad and Taylor who followed me out.   

“Little Crosby!” I hear a very familiar voice yell over the buzz of the airport.

“Oh my God! Uncle Flower!” I shout, rushing towards my uncle Marc and hugging him.

“Surprise!” Dad calls, smiling as I hug Marc.

 “So you were my surprise?” I say, stepping back and looking at him.

“Yep, I was the big wonderful surprise. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.” He says, smiling as his arm rests around my shoulders.

“I figured you’d want all of your uncles here for your big 18th birthday. So we worked it out and got him here for you.” I smile, quickly hugging Dad before returning to hug Marc again. 

“Alright well, it’s time to get heading to the hotel. We’re going to dinner at 6:30 tonight. Geno, Flower and Kris are taking Tay to something that I know nothing about. And you’re okay with Carter going with us?” I nod as Marc leads us and the rest of our group to the waiting van. 

“I’m taking a nap when we get to the hotel. You woke me up too early this morning.” I say, nudging Carter as she slides into the van next to me. 

“Sounds like a plan. The Red Bull ran out.” She says, laying her head on my shoulder. The two of us manage to fall asleep on the 20 minute drive to the hotel. Geno shakes us both awake when we get to the hotel. We sleepily wander into the hotel and wait in the lobby while Dad and Tay get everything figured out. The adults herd us all over to the elevator and into it, somehow managing to get us all to the conjoined rooms we have for the next two weeks. As soon as we make it into the rooms, Carter and I collapse onto the bed we’ll be sharing and fall asleep. 

About 2 and a half hours later, Dad comes in and wakes us up.

“Girls, we have about an hour before we have to leave for dinner. Go ahead and start getting ready.” He calls as he closes the door behind him. I sit up and stretch, the excitement building in my chest all over again.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna curl my hair and wear that frilly, layered red skirt with the white sweater and my little brown boots. What about you, Carter?” I ask, looking back at her who is still laying in bed. 

“So I have to dress nice right? I think the army green pants romper thing with my jean jacket, Vans and straight hair. Sound good?” She asks, finally sitting up. I nod and get started curling my hair. She gets started on doing her makeup while I work on my hair. Somehow, we both end up being done with plenty of time left to spare. So we do what typical teenagers do and spend the extra 15 minutes we have, on our phones. Dad comes in and the two of us follow him down to the elevator and out to the car. It’s some super nice, fancy car; just like the one that lives in our garage except on home game days. Dad lets Carter play music which automatically, I can tell, he regrets as Cotton Eye Joe plays for the third time. Carter is having the time of her life and I can’t help but laugh along with her. When we get to the restaurant, it’s one Dad and I came to, back when we came to Toronto for some charity event a few years ago.

“Alright, how excited are you?” Dad asks, as he parks the car and we climb out. I squeal a little and Carter laughs. Dad smiles, draping his arm around my shoulders as I link arms with Carter. The 3 of us waltz into the restaurant and walk up to the hostess.

“Hello, Mr. Crosby. Your two guests are already seated.” I squeeze Carter’s arm and we squeal a little together. As we follow the hostess to our table, back in the back, we pass a table with two teenage boys. One looks Carter up and down, obviously checking her out, while the other locks eyes with me. I smile, forcing myself to look away as we disappear into the back, private room Dad reserved for us. 

“Holy crap, did you see those guys?” Carter whisper-yells into my ear. I nod, trying to focus on the fact that Mitch Marner is standing a few feet away from me, a grin on his face, instead of the guy I just saw.

“Hey Sid. This must be Ava and Carter. Nice to meet you girls.” Mitch says, reaching his hand out. I shake it, the smile on my face impossibly large. Morgan Rielly stands next to him and shakes our hands as well. As we all sit down, I happen to glance around the room and see that both of the boys are looking into the room. As much as I want to pay attention to what Mitch, Mo and Dad are talking about, I can’t. I’m too distracted by the boy I saw. Carter, apparently can’t either. 

“Ava, they were literally so hot. Can I please go get their numbers?” She asks, nudging me when she catches me staring again.

 “No! Dad will kill me if he catches me talking to a boy!” I whisper-yell, glancing up at Dad and Mitch. 

“Ava Grace, that could be your freaking soulmate and you’ll never know because you won’t let me go get their numbers!” I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder at the boys’ table. Sadly, they’re gone and I sigh, looking over at Carter.

“They’re gone anyway. Not like we’re ever gonna see them again anyways.” I say, glumly, resting my chin on my hand. She shakes her head. “There went your soulmate.” I sigh, knowing she won’t let me live this down. Dad clears his throat, pulling Carter and I back to the conversation happening at the table.

“So Ava, I hear you’re a pretty big fan of mine.” Mitch says, leaning on his elbows against the table. I smile, taking in all of his features.

“Yeah, you’ve been my favorite since you came into the league. Dad’s always a little disappointed when I don’t tell people he’s my favorite player.” Mitch and Mo laugh. The rest of the evening, conversation flows easily and Carter and I both have a blast. As I glance at my Apple watch and see the time, Carter nudges me again. 

“Your dad is looking at you funny.” She says, nodding her head towards Dad. I look up, my eyes meeting my dad’s gaze.

“It’s getting late, are you girls ready to head back to the hotel? Your aunt and uncles should be getting back soon too.” Carter and I nod and I turn to look at Mitch.

“I’ll be wearing your jersey on Saturday night. Don’t disappoint me. Also it’s my birthday so a goal or two would be nice.” Mitch and Mo laugh as Dad smiles down at me. 

“I will try my hardest. Glad we could spend the evening with you lovely ladies. See you on Saturday after the game? There’ll be passes for your whole group at the ticket desk.” My face lights up and I know Carter’s does too.“Okay great! See you then! Good luck!” I say, standing and hugging Mitch. Mo shakes Dad’s hand and then the two of them head out. 

“You two seemed very distracted all during dinner. Was everything okay?” Dad asks as the 3 of us head back out to the car after he pays.“Yeah everything was fine. Dinner was super good and fun. Carter just saw some cute boy and wouldn’t shut up about him.” Dad laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, in my defense, your daughter was looking too so it wasn’t just me.” Carter says, crossing her arms. Dad’s head whips around as we climb in the car.

“A boy? What?” I groan internally and elbow Carter. I’ve never been that into boys. I mean, I’ve thought plenty of boys were cute and had quite a few guy friends but I’ve never had the time or the effort that comes with having a relationship. So it’s never been a topic of conversation for Dad and I. 

“Nothing, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it, Dad.” I say, trying to avoid the topic. 

“It’s interesting though. I was just talking to your uncle Kris about how you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything like that. Which is fine with me because I know what boys are like.” Dad says as we drive back to the hotel. Carter is dying sitting next to me, her hand pressed against her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“I-I know...I’ve just never had the time or wanted one.” I say, burying my head in my hands. 

“Well you don’t need one. You have all the guys you need in your life. Me, your Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris, Uncle Marc, and Grandpa.” Carter finally bursts out laughing and Dad looks in the rearview mirror at me. 

“I’m serious, Ava Grace. Why do you need a boyfriend?” Dad has never really been the overprotective dad. He’s protective for sure but he kind of lets me do my own thing most of the time. He knows if I need to, I’ll come to him or one of the other main adults in my life. But he lets me make my own decisions and figure life out by myself. This whole ‘no boyfriend’ thing that he’s doing right now is new. 

“I guess I don’t. You’re right.” I say, putting an end to the conversation by turning and looking out the window. Thankfully, Dad doesn’t push any farther. The 3 of us ride in silence, the radio off, the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once we get into the hotel and up to our rooms, I tell Dad goodnight, give him a hug and a kiss then follow Carter into our room. Carter distracts me from the disaster of a conversation that was with Dad and forces me to watch some cheesy rom-com with her. I fall asleep midway through and sleep in late the next day. Taylor takes Carter and I out shopping all day on Friday while my dad and the uncles do who knows what. The topic of boys is avoided all day, All night at dinner on Friday, we catch up with everyone. I fill Marc in on what Dad’s latest old person moment was, even though he’s only 33. Everything seems so perfect and happy but I keep replaying the conversation with Dad over and over again in my head. 

Saturday morning, my birthday morning, Carter wakes me up with cake in bed. It’s a tradition we started when we were 12. Every year on our birthday, the other girl brings the birthday girl cake in bed. It’s one of my favorite birthday traditions. 

“Happy birthday Little Crosby! You are adult now!” Geno calls, leading the rest of my family into my room. Dad brings up the end of the line and walks over to the bed. He hugs me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.“Happy birthday my sweet girl.” He says, smoothing my hair down and getting all teary-eyed. 

“I can’t believe the young lady you’ve grown into. You are beautiful, strong, independent and so responsible. I...I didn’t think things would end up this way, especially with your mom not being in the picture. But I look around you and I see all these people who helped raise you and I know, you’ve turned out more than okay. I love you Ava Grace and will always love you. Happy birthday.” Dad says. I take another bite of the cake Carter brought me and smile up at him.

“I love you so much, Daddy. Thank you for everything. Thank you everyone for everything you’ve done for me. I love all of you.” They all share a sappy smile and I keep eating my cake. The rest of the day, we hang out at the hotel, lounging around before the game tonight at 7. Marc and Geno see how many pieces of pizza they can eat while Dad keeps score. Taylor paints Carter’s nails and I pick at mine. Kris sneaks out to buy me ice cream and comes back with at least 10 different kinds, all of them my favorite in one way or another. 

Carter and I start getting ready around 4:30 so we’re ready to leave by 5. I straighten my hair and do just light makeup. I dig my Mitch Marner jersey out of my bag and put it on with some black leggings. Carter wears the jersey of the only Leaf she likes, Frederik Andersen. She opted for black ripped jeans instead of leggings. Everyone else is just dressed casual. Marc did wear a Leafs hat just to please me. The drive to the arena, Carter gets to play music again. She plays our ‘Hockey Game Hype Up’ playlist, something we made a few years ago. Even though I’m the music person, she’s much better at putting playlists together. I’m only really good at finding one or two songs I love and just playing them over and over again. As the songs ‘Auston Matthews’ by Svdvm and ‘Toronto Maple Leafs Anthem’ by JDME play back to back, we pull into the arena parking lot. No matter how many times I’ve been to Scotiabank Arena, it never ceases to amaze me. I think I’ve been here a grand total of like 15 times in the last 10 years, solidifying it as my favorite arena. 

“Come on Ava, let’s go watch your boy play.” Carter says, linking her arm through mine. She leads me and the rest of our group into the arena. Everyone else heads to the box but I decide to stay down in the main area and wander around a bit, making sure I get the full experience again. All around me, Leafs fans are hurrying to one place or another. I take everything, wanting to remember this for the rest of my life. As I’m walking down a small set of stairs, I collide with a pretty solid body. And of course, with my human wrecking ball abilities, I manage to take both of us down, all the way to the ground. “Shit! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I ask, sitting up and looking at the boy I collided with. He sits up, looks at me, down at the ground, then back up at me. His eyes are huge.

“I-Oh my God. Yeah-Yeah I’m okay! Are you?” He asks, jumping to his feet and reaching his hand out to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. “Yeah I’m all good. Sorry for taking you out. I’m known for being clumsy. Like the jersey by the way.” I say, pointing to where the number 16 is stitched into the arm of his jersey. The same number sprawled across my back.

“Hey, I like yours too. Marner your favorite player?” I nod, pushing my hair back out of my face.

“Yeah, I grew up a Penguins fan because of my dad but the Leafs are my favorite team.” He smiles and nods. He looks so familiar but I can’t place where I know him from. Talking to him comes so naturally and it seems like the world just goes on around us while we stand there and talk. Before I know it, they’re starting the lineup announcements.

“Oh shoot, I gotta get going. Enjoy the game!” I call over my shoulder as I run back towards the box we’re all sitting in. Of course, I trip up the steps and almost fall. As I glance over my shoulder, I see the boy with a smirk on his face. I blush and mentally kick myself for first off accidentally tackling a cute boy then tripping and almost falling in front of him. As I rush back into the box, Dad eyes me with a raised eyebrow. I huff and flop into my seat next to Marc and Carter. Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye and smirks.

“Why are you all red and bothered about?” I bite my lip and Marc looks over at me.“I accidentally tackled a cute boy…” I say, burying my head in my hands. Carter and Marc laugh and Marc pats my back.

“There there, Little Crosby. I did much worse to your aunt Véronique.” I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder. Geno and Kris are behind us, teasing Taylor as Dad watches what’s going on down on the ice. His hand is resting on my shoulder, absentmindedly squeezing and releasing in a protective way. As I sit there, watching the game, all I can think about is the boy. But as I do, I think about the conversation Dad and I had last night in the car. Did he really mean what he said? Would he really get upset if I did ever decide to have a boyfriend?

[katerix]

(How old is New Vegas? And it’s still my fav part! I feel like I need more Raul content even after all these years🥺)

Drink with the living dead

Characters: Raul Tejada x Reader Summary:  Courier and her companion returned to New Vegas after a long wandering to get a drink and gamble, but faced serious inhospitality. Six was not ready to leave her friend behind, so they changed their plans. Warnings: - Words: 2781

***

It was almost half past midday, when a dusty dirty road to New Vegas welcomed the wanderers with just another sandstorm without any declaration of war. Courier’s mirror aviator sunglasses could hardly stand that gusts of winds, so she decided to hide it in the pocket of her jacket until the better times. Six and her ghoul-companion were on foot for nearly five hours, and now the hightower of «Lucky 38» looked huge in contradiction from its look an hour ago.

It was not their first visit to New Vegas, but every time she saw a glowing and sparkling casino’s signs, she was bringing up the idea of going there and wasting an evening gambling and drinking. Just like everyone does. The fact that she spent here some time, passing all the entertaining places by, met with Mr. House and performed several missions for NCR ambassador, but still never took a break to try some of those things, these poor fellows from all Mojave wasteland were arriving for - was a crime by its definition.

Coddling this thought, Courier continued to trudge the nasty weather, until they walked up to the Northern gates of Freeside.

- What’s the plan when we reach Strip, boss? - asked Raul, shaking his dull-green jumpsuit down: it all was full of pervasive grains of sand, as well as the girl’s clothes.

- At first I wanna visit the «Lucky 38» apartment and change the outfit, then go to the bar and win big in the kazino!

- Perfect plan, chief, ironclad like my revolver. - the ghoul was sarcastic as usual, but didn’t evince any sight of disagreement.

When she turned around to continue movement, he added: “Wait, amigo, there's a tuft of straw stuck under your collar.” - and carefully extracted an annoying piece of flora, stuck to during the storm.

“Gracias!” - Six smiled widely and made a fast gesture of gratitude with her hand. Without wasting time, they passed heavy metallic gates.

Freeside met companions with a funky, stinking smell. She still couldn't get used to it. Dusty air seemed to mar the cityscape: it looked much pale and lighter than from the outside. Just fifteen minutes and they’ll reach the destination. The picture couldn’t be called unusual for this time of the day in this part of town: one or two shabby hobos against the dingy walls, kids in wrecked clothes playing a tag-game in the area of the «Mick & Ralph's», random citizens with roving glances, sneaking around, wasting their time in an idle attempts to figure out how to spend their life in this Dump. On the other hand, there are many places where people live even worse: take a look at Westside, for instance.

«What a hopeless sight, - thought the girl. - Hope the Followers are really able to do something about this in the future».

- Something on your mind, boss? - it felt like nothing could hide from Raul’s inquisitive look.

- Just thinking. I find this picture quite dismal, like there’s no tomorrow, and humanity is still doomed. Like there’s no chance to restore life, as it was before.

- When we are on the road again, I’ll tell you about the Football Cup in Mexico, if you like to hear another one “before the Bomb” story. - he obviously picked up on her mood and decided to cheer up the girl, carefully diverting the theme.

- I do. Have you attended it?

- Sure thing. That was a big day. We drove to the capital to see it with our own eyes.

- Sounds pretty good! Let’s not ruin the intrigue.

- You asked.

They passed a small cross-road, which didn't have to be called like that anymore, as it was just one of the ghosts of the past with it’s burned skeletons of cars, left here motionless as evidence of human lost ambitions. The air in this part of the town was stale, despite the fact that they were in the streets, the smell of some broiling meat and spoiled vegetables was sticky like an ant's nectar. Sudden wild cryings and shouts were heard from the nearest dead end. 

One glance was enough to understand that the Kings had cornered swashers, their prey, who were too fucked up and all-fired sure of themselves to attack the town’s main showrunners just a couple of minutes ago. And the Courier was not going to do anything about that: she herself was nearly butchered by one of them, shown up from nowhere. If it was not her loyal companion who dealt with it with one precise shot, she, probably, would be dead by now.

It took more than ten minutes to cover the distance between the East and Strip gates - right now there was no reason to hurry. As they got closer, the protectrons took up their positions immediately. One of them articulated “Move along” with a familiar metallic cold of lifeless voice of his, when companions were passing by.

“Never liked these guys. They are like slow mines: you never know what they do the next second.” - grunted out the Courier, as two of them found themselves on the first line of the Strip between “Lucky 38” and “Gomorrah”.

“Hey, so who is an old one here?” - the ghoul chuckled in response.

She went ahead, so he could never see how her lips slightly bended in a ready-to-laugh smile.

***

Presidential luxe met nomads with a deep, wrapping silence of a broad, gloomy space. This was definitely not the place a person could wish to stay in: walls with, once being gorgeous - now - greasy dark-wine wallpapers were giving an oppressive feeling. Six was happy that they didn’t have to stay here for long. Only to sleep or change the outfit maybe.

She got near to the wardrobe in her room, where the majority of things, accumulated during the long travels, were stored. Took out two dresses, went to the guest-room with a billiards. Raul was civilly waiting for her there.

- What you think? Which one?

He raised up his head, looked from under the sunglasses for several seconds, examining, and answered in a casual tone:

- It’s really up to you, boss. - made a pause, then added, like a little confused: - But I like the pink one. Might look graceful.

- Great! Exactly the one I wanted to pick.

The ghoul just gave her a hesitant nod, wondering if she noticed that detail. Courier went back to her sleeping-room and returned after some minutes, informing: “Ready to go! The next stop is “Ultra-Luxe”, yee-haw!”

***

After a while they were in the street again. All they needed was just to reach the second line of the Strip and pass a hundred meters to the “Ultra-Luxe”. Lots of NCR soldiers were hanging around, goofing off, as long as they had a chance, and indulging in lust in the nearest private clubs. Nothing unexpectable. When they passed by a small group of drunk, barely balancing on their feet big guys, Six suddenly heard a hushed voice from behind her back, addressing his teammates. “Do they let ghouls on the Strip now? Perfect, let’s make it a spooky ghost-town.”

“Yeah. That’s why civilization will start floating away again. Our attempts are meaningless.”

Only just Courier wanted to turn around and shout out something to those sons of a b or event take out a gun and shoot beneath their feet, Raul caught her arm:

- Hey, hey, calm down, that’s okay. NCRs are many here, you know, even for a dashing rider like you, boss. Even with me backing you up. From behind the farthest stone.

- But we can’t simply swallow that shit, Raul!

He just spreaded his hands:

- Fine, then go shoot them and be killed by protectrones because of two drunk idiots. Very helpful, chief. I’ll stay all alone, without my beloved companion but with a protected pride. Thank’s.

Six stood still for some seconds and nodded after that.

- Fine. Whatever.

Then merely continued walking in the direction of the cazino. The ghoul hesitated for a bit. He understood that she was acting out of good intentions and she just wanted to protect her partner, as she was the one who had a right of speech here. And that made his heart melt and he was silently praising her for that, because nobody seemed to do anything like that for him in a while. But picking a fight with these dummies, who fill the streets of Strip like water fills the canyon, was not wise.

“Sorry for that, Niña. I really appreciate what you do. I just don’t want you to get in trouble because of me. You don’t notice, but there are often lots of sidelong looks and hardly heard whisperings along the way. I'm used to it and don’t want it to affect you.” - he tried to lighten things up.

The girl turned her head a bit just for him to see her glance softening.

- Let’s just reach the bar and relax.

*** 

An unexpected trouble struck them further - black line has not ended yet. Courier already picked her place at the bar desk in the distant hall and ordered a glass of whiskey, when a bartendress leaned over and said in a low tone:

“I’m sorry, but here, in “Ultra-Luxe”, we serve only the citizens and guests of the Strip. I’m able to bring a drink only for you, ma’m.”

That was the last drop of her patience. The girl slowly raised her head at the bartendress, ready to blow up, and responded:

- Are you fucking kidding me?

- That’s the rule. I don’t need problems. You can ask any guard or another worker.

She bowed her head and gave a fast hidden glance at her ghoul-companion. He was sitting there next to her and looking straight at his arms crossed on the desk, like he had nothing to do with it. But he, of course, heard every word. His eyes weren't moving, just a finger was slightly knocking the air, producing a rhythm he alone knew. Six couldn’t even imagine what her friend might feel at the moments like that. An anger came upon her.

“Are you all that scumbags here? Keep your drinks for acceptable ones. Ma’m.” - the girl said, getting up from her barstool and heading towards the exit.

Raul stood up without a word and, as he always did, followed Courier. He had mixed emotions. On the one hand he was glad they left that place and that Six is such a kind and loyal partner, but on the other hand he felt a little guilty for himself. After all, it was him who was the reason for such inhospitality in some kind of place. Even now she couldn’t get what she wished for so hard. Her idea of “winning big” in the kazino seemed to be falling apart, as together they won’t be even let to the gambling table. And she, obviously, won’t leave him in the street and have fun on her own, and an old ghoul didn’t want to be a ball and chain.

- Boss? Are you sure we need to leave? Maybe you’d better stay there? And I’d wait for you somewhere else or go back to “Lucky 38”. Fresh air won’t do any harm for my old lungs.

- What are you even talking about? You know, even the best drink worth nothing, if there’s no one to share it with.

- You have a heart of gold, chiff. - these words came fast, in an undertone, as if he was embarrassed, - Well, I saw a small sign in Freeside. I believe we’ve never been in that part of the city before.

- Hope it’s not an «Atomic Wrangler».

- Nope.

- Great! You lead. They passed the ruins, generously spread all over the suburbs, while every their step sounded louder thanks to trash, small pieces of brick and other rubbish. The sun was already going down and the heat was getting less intense.

Finally they reached a small inconspicuous wooden door. Only a little sign next to it represented that place as a bar.

As they entered, nothing changed. There was not much to be changed. There were no crowds of gamblers, no fancy casino machines and no shiny-polished bar desk. Bartender was a man in old ragged clothes, probably in his late fifties. He was slowly wiping cut glasses with a gray dusty piece of fabric full of holes.

When the companions stepped in the room he just looked up at them without raising up his head and got back to his plain, simple activity. There were not many customers besides the two of them. A woman was sleeping on the table in the far corner - her head rested on her arms while her shoulders were calmly going up and down. Another guest settled down at the edge of the bar desk.

“Fancy,” - giggled the girl.

“Ah, let’s get down. Ladies first.” - Raul just waved his hand.

Six made a few steps in the direction of the bar desk and sat down, Raul followed her.

“Barman! Two beers, please”. - she laid some bottle caps in front of him.

The barkeeper took them and then put two opened bottles onto the surface.

“Bon appetit.”

Courier took her bottle up and clinked it loudly with Rauls one. His soft non-blinking sight of half closed eyes was locked on hers, while he made a sip. His heart always went pop when it felt like there were just two of them in the world, though he never showed that.

Raul looked around and suddenly his eyes stopped on a guitar lurked behind the racks.

“Hey, can I…?”

The barman followed ghoul’s gaze and shrugged his shoulders: “This piece of wood? Be my guest.”

In the next second he was on his feet. The courier raised her eyebrows as she almost forgot if she saw him that agile. Raul approached the metal shelves, put aside some garbage and waste paper, then carefully extracted the instrument and blew away the dust.

Six and the bartender were watching him closely. The ghoul got back to his chair, sat down crossing his legs to position the guitar more comfortably. Then pulled the first string to check out the tuning. It was no surprise that it was out of tune, so the next minute Raul spent trying to fix the instrument.

When everything, as he thought, was ready, he played a couple of notes in fingerstyle to flex some life back into his fingers. After nearly 200 years the skill was obviously weakened.

“I didn’t know that you could play the guitar.” - said the girl.

“Sure you didn’t. I never told about that.” - he looked back at her with a little smirk, - “What was the point if there were no music instruments left anyway?”

He laid his right arm down on the body of the guitar, fingers on the cracked wooden surface, and took a deep breath.

At first Courier could hardly hear or see the slightest movement of ghoul's fingers on strings, but soon the sound became more clear. She was sitting there with a bottle in her hand, unable to look away from her companion.

The sound of slow mexican melody floated across the room, filling every corner of the room with itself. The windows were closed with wooden boards from the outside, so the sunlight was trickling down through narrow gaps between them. Warm light was leaving gold-yellow lines on the walls, tables and the bardesk where the Courier and Raul were sitting. She could even see the tiniest specks of dust freeze in the air. The ghouls face was half hidden by a shadow and the sunbeams were highlighting one of his eyes which now looked like a beautiful transparent crystal and his hands all covered with veins and partially with thin skin.

The whole space imbued with peace and calm, even the impenetrable bartender set his glass aside and leaned his head on the hand, listening to the sensual music.

They travelled together for a while now, but never before had Six seen him the way she did now. Something new was arising in her soul.

“Hey chief,” - Raul closed his eyes and slightly threw back his head grinning a little, fingers still dancing over the strings. - ”You’re the best friend and partner one could ever wish for, you know. Thank you for always being on my side.”

“Raul, I’ll never leave my partner in crime behind!” - she chuckled as she felt like something pinned her heart.

The ghoul continued playing the tune without opening his eyes. A grin turned into a soft smile and the feeling of joy span all over him for the first time in a while.

“I’m following you to the world’s end, boss.”

Also, here’s a link to this fanfic on my AO3 (gif is mine \ use credits if repost)

[janicho88]

Come Back Part 3

Paring- Dean x Reader

Word Count-3810

Summary- After everything you and Dean have been through to get together you deserve some happiness right?

Warnings-Smidge of angst, fluff, some language, maybe just a couple words.  Implied smut

A/N As of right now this is the final part.  There is a chance someday there will be a fourth.  There are a few more pictures in this one, I like to visualize things, was trying to help you see what I was.  Pictures found on google.

Part 1    Part 2 

Three months later

Chaos, mayhem and craziness, that was what surrounded you.  Currently you were hiding in your old room in the bunker trying to get away.  Unfortunately the knock at the door told you that they found you again.  Charlie, Donna, and Jody, all of whom you had renamed in your head, hurried in. They were trying to help get everything ready for the wedding in a few days.  They all had an opinion on how it should be, the problem was, their opinion didn’t match yours.

Chaos, I mean Charlie thought you should do a Star Wars theme. They women could all dress like Princess Leia and the guys Jedi, with the robes and hoods. You think you just about had her talked out of it.  You had told her if that was what she wanted to wear, go right ahead, but she would be the only one. 

Mayhem, oh miss Donna wanted you to learn square dancing.  She was also hoping for big dresses with these crazy bows, and so so many ruffles.  You told her she was more than welcome to have one herself.  At this rate it was going to be more like a costume party than a wedding.  You mentioned to Donna you didn’t think Dean was going to learn square dancing this week for the wedding, but if she wanted to show people that night it was fine.   

Craziness, bless her heart. Jody’s ideas were probably the closest to what you were thinking.  After you lost your parents you spent most of your time at Bobby’s before going off hunting with Dean.  You saw Jody as a mom figure, and she knew the inner girl you kept hidden.  You just didn’t want to make things as grand as she did.  You appreciated everyone’s help, they were just a bit overwhelming when you had them all at once.

You weren’t expecting too many attendees.  Besides the three ladies, Alex and Claire would of course be joining.  Garth and his family would be here, a few other hunters the guys kept in constant contact with also coming.  You expected, but weren’t completely sure Crowely and Rowena would also make an appearance.  Rowena liked you, and the two of you had become friends over the years, even if Dean wasn’t thrilled about it.  Sam was Dean’s best man, Donna your maid of honor.  Since Dean was legally dead, and also wanted for numerous federal crimes a marriage license was out of the question.  Cas was officiating, both you and Dean figured married by an angel would make it legal and binding for the two of you.

Turning your attention back to the three ladies in front of you, you figured it would be wise to see what questions they had this time.

“What are you doing for decorations?”

“Where is the caterer going?”

“Where is your dress”

Jody’s question was the easiest so you started there.  “My dress still needs to be picked up, they finished the last alteration yesterday.”  While hunters don’t often get normal things, one thing you always dreamed about watching chick flicks was a beautiful wedding dress.  When you told Dean you were just going to get a simple dress or wear one you had, he encouraged you to go after your dream one.  He joked about wanting to see you in a big fancy dress in your real wedding pictures, not just your fake ones Sam had made.

As for the decorations, “Dean and I talked, we will move the tables aside in the library and rearrange the chairs for people to sit.  I don’t have any decorations.”  

“What nothing?  No fancy lights or even flowers?” Charlie wanted to know. 

 “No, we figured simpler was easier.”  Charlie just rolled her eyes.

“There aren’t that many of us, we didn’t exactly get a caterer.  There is a restaurant in town we’ve gone to a few times that does party size orders.   We ordered a few dishes to serve 30 that should give us plenty.  Sam or Dean are picking them up the day before the wedding, we just need to reheat it the next day.  Dean joked that we can order pizza later if people are hungry.  Honestly, I don’t care much about any of those things, well other than the dress, but it still isn’t as important as Dean.  End of the day what matters most is actually being together with Dean.  I want to be able to truthfully say he’s my husband.”  

They all chuckled at that.  You still had to humor them with a few more answers before they left you alone.  You had about two minutes to yourself when there was a knock on the door.  Turning your head toward the door you saw Dean walking in.

“How’s it going with your wedding army?”

“Not funny, they are driving me nuts.  I know I said I didn’t want to go to Vegas before, but is that completely off the table now?”

“Personally, I wouldn’t want to face the wrath of those 3 if they found out we eloped now, but if you really want to Baby is gassed and ready to go.”

“UGGHH, you’re right, we would never hear the end of it now.”

“I’ll talk to them, see if I can get them to calm down.”

“Thank you, Honey, you're the best.”   

After giving you a kiss your fiance left to try and wrangle in your help. Fiance, what a crazy year you two have had. It started with the fight that had you leaving the bunker and Dean.  Followed by the amnesia and being Dean’s fake wife.  They two of you had been together since the memories returned, you had officially moved into his room.  He didn’t say anything else about a wedding after the comment about getting real pictures so you didn’t push.   A month after all of Dean’s memories of you came back  he took you out to dinner then a walk by a nearby lake.  It was by the lake he dropped down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.  With tears in your eyes you had said yes. Dean didn't want to ever lose you again, hunter’s don’t always have the longest lives so he wasn’t going to waste any more time making you his actual wife.

The next month and half had kept you all pretty busy with hunts, you had not had much time to do anything for the wedding.  One of the few things you two finished was picking out your rings while gone on a case. 

 Your lack of completed tasks is why the girls are here now trying to help you.  You appreciated the help because honestly the last couple of weeks you hadn’t had a lot of extra energy.  You were thankful Dean hadn’t noticed that yet though.

Dean talked to your three friends and got them to tone everything down a bit. It made the next few days so much easier for you.  The night before your wedding they took you out for your bachelorette party.  You mentioned to them you didn’t want a hangover the next day so you wanted to avoid the alcohol.  They took you out for dinner, and still ended up with a trip to the bar after.  Things went pretty well though, and it was a fun night with the girls.  You weren’t sure what the guys were doing for Dean, but you knew they were hanging around the bunker.  When you made your way from the garage to your old room, you could still hear them in the library. 

You know those days where everything that can go wrong will?  That was your wedding day.  It was now 11:30 and the wedding was supposed to be starting at 1, if it ever did.  You could not believe the morning you had had.   Dean and Sam had picked up the food yesterday from the reception. Everything was sealed and labeled just how you had ordered it.  The guys brought it home and put it in the fridge.  This morning when you, Jody and Donna were in the kitchen talking about when to reheat everything and what goes where you took it all out of the fridge, good thing. What was supposed to be an alfredo pasta was, well you weren’t really sure.  It was something slimy.  In the container labeled chicken breasts, raw vegetables, at least those were edible. They would work too since Sam forgot to grab anything to make a salad.  Instead of mashed potatoes you got yams.  The cornbread Dean wanted, just cream corn.  

Jody called the restaurant to see if they could fix it and get you the right things.  They were extremely sorry, but could not fix it right now.  Apparently your food got mixed up with another catering they had today for a bigger group.  They were working on fixing that one right now, and it would take a few hours to start on yours.  They told Jody they would be giving you a refund though.  Looks like you’ll be ordering pizza after all. 

Leaving the kitchen after that mess you headed up to the library.  The site that met you had you closing your eyes hoping it was all a nightmare.  The guys little bachelor party the night before  looks like it got out of hand.  For some reason there were books everywhere, the tables and chairs all over and as soon as your shoe hit the library floor it stuck to it.  They apparently spilled a bit of alcohol, you could smell it now.  That had you running for the bathroom.  You carefully made your way back to the library, Sam looking around the corner when he heard your approach.  

“Hey we were going to come clean this up before you woke up.  Guess we overslept.  Don’t worry about this.  It will straighten up in no time.”

“What about the smell Sam?”

“We’ll find something.”

“What happened in here anyways?”

“Cas might have had a bit too much to drink and he was trying to show off some of his powers.  Didn’t go well as you can tell.  Used too much energy and passed out before we could get him to fix it.”

As you were talking you didn’t notice Charlie and Donna coming behind you.  They were going to finish the cake table and chose to bring the cake out now.  Charlie hit the sticky floor and stumbled. She held her balance until she hit an out of place chair and the cake went flying. Now you had another mess and no cake.  At least you had bought Dean a pie, which Donna was carrying.  Never mind it met the same fate as the cake.  What else could go wrong?

You should not have asked.  After trying to help clean up some of the mess, Jody sent you to shower.  She was going to start your hair after.  You two had practiced your updo a few times and she knew exactly how you wanted it.  Problem was today your hair didn’t realize it was supposed to cooperate.  The half up half down with curls you wanted was mostly down, and extremely limp.  Oh well, it was just hair you told yourself.  While looking in the mirror at the flop on your head someone knocked on the door.  It was Sam.

“What’s up Sam”

“Is anyone here any good with alterations?”

“What kind, to what and why?” You asked with your eyes narrowing in the mirror.

“Slight problem with the tuxes. Um how do you feel about purple?”

‘What’s wrong with the tuxes?  What’s purple that I need to feel something about? Again why?”

“Cas’ tux apparently came in purple. Now is the first time he’s opened it.  He must have hit the wrong box.  The alterations are for Dean and I.  My tux is a bit too big, and his is too small.  He can’t even get the coat on.”

“Didn’t you get measured for your tuxes? Why didn’t you try them on before?”

“We sent in our measurements and they sent us things to try on and we told them what fit.  Things have been hectic.  We all thought they would be fine.”

You didn’t say anything just stared straight ahead for a minute.  “I guess your Fed suits will have to work.”

You were hoping to do a few pictures outside before people came, that way you weren’t holding up the reception after.  You had figured if everyone here was ready by 11:30 it gave you time for pictures and to get back to your room before anyone else arrived. 

Shortly after 11 Donna and Charlie were helping you into your dress while Jody looked for your shoes. 

“I can’t find them anywhere Y/N do you know what they were in?”

They were in a white box.  They were on the counter, I grabbed the dress and Charlie grabbed my shoes.”

“I didn’t carry anything out of the shop.”  The redhead behind you spoke up.

“Did anyone carry the white box out?”

Silence great, you left without your shoes.  You had white flip flops guess that will have to do.  Donna started to zip the back of your dress with Charlie helping when you heard a ripping noise.

“What is that?”

“OH NO!  Y/N, I am so sorry!” Charlie exclaimed.  Apparently she had ended up standing on the dress while they were pulling the zipper and it was enough to tear the fabric in the back.  They unzipped it, while Jody left to see if there was any thread in the bunker to try and sew it up.  Charlie kept apologizing, but you told her accidents happen, and ushered them both out for a few minutes of quiet for yourself.

There was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Babe it’s me.  Jody told me about all the problems, are you okay? Can I come in”

“NO!  If the only thing that goes right today is the tradition of not seeing the bride then so be it.  You can open the door a smidge, but don’t peak in.”

“Okay, okay.   How are you holding up.”

 “I’m beginning to think someone cursed us today.  Who did we piss off now?”

“Just a rough morning, we aren’t cursed this time.  I’m sorry about the mess we made in the library.  We got the spills cleaned up.”

“Does it still smell like beer?”

“Eh, maybe some.”

“Okay.  Thank you for getting the rest ready.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry this isn’t the day of your dreams.”

“It’s okay, I’ll survive.   At the end of the day the most important thing is I have you by my side.”

“Always, Sweetheart.  We’re in this together.”

As you and Dean were talking you heard the clank of heels coming down the hall. “Is that Jody coming back?” 

“No, it’s Rowena.  Hello Rowena, can I help you?”

“Hello Dean. No, you cannot, I just fancied a word with the bride to be.”

“Dean, be nice.” You whispered out to him

“Fine, I’ll see you out there Sweetheart everything will be fine.”

 As Dean walked away you opened the door and let Rowena in.

“I heard from Samual, it’s been a bit of a rough morning for you? That library smells like a brewery.”

“That’s one way to put it.  Not much is going right, the food is wrong, the cake hit the floor, along with Dean’s pie.  The library was a mess this morning.  They cleaned it, but like you said it still smells.  The guy's tuxes don’t fit, Cas’ is the wrong color, I forgot my shoes and my dress ripped.  My hair has decided this will be the day it does it’s own thing.  This isn’t exactly how I thought this day would go.  I guess I should just be happy we haven’t been called for a hunt yet.”

“Sit here and let Rowena see what she can do Lass.”

You had been sitting in your room for about five minutes when Jody and Donna came back. They took your wedding dress and an old pair of shoes and left again. They must have found some thread, not sure what they are doing with the shoes though.  Five minutes later they returned again, much too quickly to have actually sewn the dress.

“Okay, let’s get you dressed,” Jody said.

“Wait, what about the dress? Did you fix it already?”

“We did not.  Your witchy godmother did.  She fixed your dress, shoes, the tuxes, cleaned up the library a bit.”

“Oh my.”  You were speechless. 

As they were finishing closing your dress there was another knock at the door. Rowena entered a moment later.

“You look just about perfect deary.  One more little thing.”

Rowena spoke a few words and you could suddenly feel your hair moving around.  She was fixing that too.

“Rowena, I’m going to cry thank you so much!”

“No tears today, it’s a happy day.  Even if you are marrying that Winchester.”

“Thank you so much.”  You gave her a hug and she went back out to the library.  

You had just enough time to get a few pictures finished before you needed to come back inside.  While Dean was outside getting his pictures with the guys, and ladies, you went to the library.  You could not believe your eyes, Rowena had worked her magic in here also.  It was no longer the library you knew, but a ballroom.  Gone were the bookcases, tables and chairs.  White Chairs were set up for the guests and a beautiful wedding arch where you would say your vows.  

“This is amazing Rowena, I can’t believe you did all this thank you!”

“You are more than welcome.  Alas I can’t take all the credit in here, your fiance made the arch as a surprise for you.”    

You couldn’t believe Dean had done that.  It was perfect.  The door opened and Jody came in to see where you were, so Dean wouldn’t see you when he came in.   She ushered him to the hall, then helped you up the stairs. When your pictures were done, she went inside and looked for Dean, to keep him out of the way.  Sam came over to talk to you.

“You look stunning, my brother is one lucky guy.  I’m glad you both came to senses.  I’m glad you decided to come back here.”

“I am too.  Mostly I’m thankful we got our Dean back.”  Sam gave you a hug as you both headed back inside.

Soon it was time for the ceremony to start.  You had asked Jody to walk you down the aisle, being the closest thing you had to a parent.  Dean actually had a tear in his eye when you reached him, and he told you how beautiful you looked. You told him how dashing he was.  The ceremony went much quicker than you imagined.  Both you and Dean reciting traditional vows.  When Cas pronounced you husband and wife Dean grabbed you to him in a longer kiss than you thought he would.  After you walked back down the aisle and people were getting up from their seats, Rowena changed the room to a different setting again.

  The white chairs were now around tables, a buffet line was set up that smelled delicious.  In the corner a beautiful wedding cake, with smaller circles surrounding it on the table.  Upon closer inspection they were mini pies.  You were going to need to hide some of those from Dean so he didn’t get sick.   This was incredible and more than you could imagine, you were going to owe her big for this.

You and Dean spent the afternoon and even talking with guests, dancing and enjoying the wonderful food Rowena provided.  When it came time to cut the cake, you told Dean if he made a mess it would be a long time before you made him another pie.  He took that warning to heart and did his best not to smear it on your face. You doing the same with the piece of pie you cut him.  Dean picked your first dance song, Aerosmith’s "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing."  He said he wasn’t missing anymore of your life together.   Most of your guests were crashing at the bunker tonight so it was one long party.  At one point you caught up to Sam.

“Think Rowena could have helped us with Dean a few months ago?”

“Probably, wish we had thought to ask her back then.” You nodded your agreement before going to find your new husband. 

You and Dean finally decided to call it a night and head back to your shared room for a little alone time.  There was something you wanted to share with Dean tonight.  Opening the door and turning back to pick you up Dean carried you in and placed you on the bed.  You were staying in the bunker tonight before heading off to your honeymoon.  Dean had actually rented a house on the beach, but far enough away from others you would have some privacy. 

“I missed you in my arms last night wife”

“I missed being held close to you, husband. I like being able to honestly call you that now.”

“I love hearing it.  I like the idea of filling those frames with pictures I actually remember.”

“Dean I have something for you.”

“Yeah, is it under your dress”

“Not in the way you're thinking.”

 Getting off the bed you went to your dresser and pulled out a gift wrapped box.  As you handed it to him, he told you he didn’t get you anything.  You told him he already did, and just open the box. He tore the paper off and when his eyes shot up to you when he removed the lid.  He looked at you and then back to what you had made for him in the box.

“Really… are you?.. Am I?”  With tears in his eyes he could finish his sentences.

“Yes, we are going to have a baby, you're going to be daddy.”  He grabbed you and pulled you in for a tight hug before he thought better of it and loosened his grip.  Leaning down his lips met yours in a slow sweet kiss.

“How far along are you?”

“Just about 6 weeks I found out this past week. Cas told me and I swore him to secrecy.”

“You know this means no more hunting for you right?”

“Yes, I kind of figured that.”

Dean leaned down to kiss you again.  It didn’t take long till you were working the buttons on his shirt and he was trying to figure out your dress.  You had to break apart to deal with clothes before coming back together and finishing your wedding night wrapped up in one another.  

Tags @flamencodiva​ @deanwanddamons​ @katehuntington​ @winchest09​ @emoryhemsworth​ @waywardbeanie​ @malfoysqueen14​ @talesmaniac89​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @superfanficnatural​ 

@fantasydevil2002​ @vicmc624​ @lilballofemotions @sandlee44​                       @multi-fan-lover

[harringtonstudios]

vegas run (V).

plot: it’s the annual las vegas run. let’s see what kinda trouble you get into this year!

A/N: the story that just keeps going haha! hope yall are enjoying <3

masterlist! (previous parts can be found there!)

Right away it was like the air around you both shifted. The inside of the chapel was quiet, a little stuffy but it seemed as it hadn’t been touched in ages. You knew this wasn’t the case, you’d seen a married couple just walk out, but there was something about the energy in the room that made it seem sacred.

The pink theme didn’t end there, walls a pale pink as you let your eyes gaze around the small room. There was a thick carpet under your feet, muffling your footsteps as you two strolled over to the minister. He was sitting at the pew, phone pulled out and you stifled a laugh as you saw his thumb scroll across the screen as if he was on Instagram. 

Two rows of pews lined the rest of the room, covered with pink cushions and you bit your lip at the sequins glittering off of them. Colson was walking ahead of you, marriage papers in hand as you decided to pause right before the little podium that had been set up in the front, complete with a beautiful white bouquet. 

There was something nagging at the edge of your brain. This felt right, but at the same time you couldn’t believe you were going to do this without all your friends here. Baze had been there for almost every single big moment in your life, and you knew that Colson'd experienced everything with his best friends right by his side. It felt empty without them drunkenly taking up the seats and celebrating around you. 

As the minister rose to go look through the marriage papers, you pulled out your phone. The battery was dangerously low, simmering at a calm 10%. You hadn’t used it but, you were surprised to see it was even on at this point in the night. 

The groupchat flickered over your screen, notifications appearing as you hurriedly typed in your password. Not even bothering to look through all the old messages, your fingers flew across the bar, messages being spelt out. 

we geting married.

colson with me. 

come to us. 

You sent them out in record speed, before seeing the warning that you had just entered under 10% for your battery. Clicking the little camera icon, you snapped a blurry picture of the podium and sent it off. Feeling satisfied with your work, you smiled. Drunk you was ready to get this party started.

Walking up to the podium, the minister grinned at you before taking your hand in his. You grimaced a little at his clammy palms, used to the warm heat of someone else’s hands instead. That particular someone else was beaming across from you. His eyes seemed bright, blue stinging into your very own as his hand lazily rested in the minister’s other palm.

“Have you exchanged rings yet?” the man asked, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he peered at you. 

“Oh, uhm no,” you explained, feeling a bit sheepish at the idea of getting married without rings. 

“We get a lot of couples who don’t have rings done. You can buy some from the front if you want,” he suggested, shaking his head slightly. There was a silent pause and then, 

“No, don’t need that. I got a ring right here,” Colson exclaimed, lifting his hand off of the joined ones in the middle. 

You threw him a confused look, knowing that the only rings he had on him was the cool, metal ones that often adorned his fingers. He started pulling at one of those very rings, a thick silver band with words inscribed into it. He grimaced as he tugged at his finger, turning the jewelry from side to side. 

You laughed seeing the pain in his face as the ring pulled at his skin. Stepping in front of the bouquet, you motioned your fingers towards yourself, asking for his hand. He put his hand right on top of yours, and you quickly admired the chipping nail polish on his fingers as you brought your other hand to pull at the ring. Yanking at the silver, you felt the way it stuck to his index finger.

“Guys I’m sorry. I’m going to have to hurry this up. We have another couple waiting,” the minister spoke up, nodding towards the chapel entrance. Turning to look, you saw the red sequined cowboy boots first, before seeing the eager two girls that were grinning back at you. 

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, clearing your throat, stepping back into position. 

“Fuck,” Colson mumbled under his breath. He took another stab at the stubborn ring, and then as if hit by some kind of miracle, the silver band budged. His head shot up as he removed the offending piece of jewelry before reaching for your hand. 

“Perfect,” the minister uttered, clearly happy with the change in pace. 

The ring slid right on to your own as you made eye contact with the man standing there. You could feel the butterflies explode in your stomach as the tips of his fingers lingered over your hand. Looking down, you bit your lip seeing the way the ring swiveled around on your admittedly smaller finger. You brought the hand up to your face, letting your eyes fall close as you cheesed, showing it off. 

“You’re not married yet,” Father Michael bit out through bared teeth, patience wearing thin. 

“Then hurry up and marry us dude,” Colson responded, face twisting up at him. 

The father rolled his eyes and you snickered, bringing the hand back to his middle clammy ones. The girls cheered you both on as the ceremony started. 

“Colson Baker, do you take Y/F/N Y/LN to be your lawfully wedded partner?

“I do,” he smirked, tongue darting out to wet his lips as you bit the corner of your own staring at him. 

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, do you take Colson Baker to be your lawfully wedded partner?”

“I do,” you declared, chin tilting up as if someone was going to come out and challenge it. 

“Great, Colson please take Y/N’s hand and repeat after me,” the minister started as he brought your hands together in the middle of the table. You let your palm fall onto his, eager to feel the heat emanating from the right palms again. 

Repeating the cheesy loving words to each other, you felt the blush rising on your cheeks. There really wasn’t anybody you could see spending the rest of forever with right now, someone you would love for eternity, but the words falling out of your lips still held some weight. He was yours now, you were his, and now you both had been joined together by actual, binding law. 

“I now pronounce you officially married! You may kiss your partner,” the minister announced, stepping back from the podium. The girls standing at the entrance of the chapel were clapping loudly, hooting and you laughed as Colson raised an eyebrow, smile building on his lips. 

He sidestepped the bouquet before pulling you close, arm wrapping around, hand lingering on the small of your back. You let your own arms raise up, laying over his shoulders, fingers playing with the small cropped hairs at the back of his neck. 

He leaned down a little, inches away from your mouth, breath ghosting over your face before whispering, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you mumbled back, eyes already fluttering closing as the heat started building in your body. His nose brushed against the tip of yours, slowly moving further in. 

Then, your lips were meeting his. They were softer than you expected, and you leaned in to him, chasing the way his mouth closed perfectly over yours. Feeling excited, you let your tongue dart out a little, wetting his bottom lip as he kept his lips closed together. 

Breaking apart, he nudged his nose against yours again before mumbling, “First kisses always have to be classy baby.”

You laughed at that, leaning forward so that your forehead could fall on his shoulder. This was your first kiss with him, and somehow not only had he gotten to quiet all the butterflies but your head felt clearer than it had in days. 

-

The girls had come up to you after, drunkenly tossing arms around the both of you as they shrieked praises in your ears. Within seconds, they’d invited you both to sit in on their wedding, eyes lighting up as Colson offered to record their ceremony for them. 

“Oh! We got pictures of you guys. Send me your number sweetheart, I’ll text them over,” one of them had giggled, nails tapping against your cheek. 

You’d nodded before the other one had pulled her to the podium, pouting a little as the minister separated them. Colson had plopped in the first row pew, leaning back on the cushion, gripping onto the girl’s phone as he hit the record button. 

“Mmhm, baby. Over here,” he mumbled, tilting his head to the spot next to him. 

You shuffled into the spot as his arm came around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Letting your head drop onto the side of his chest, finding peace in the way you could hear his heartbeat if you listened closely enough. He was wholly focused on the two girls, and you found yourself staring at the ring covering your left finger.

It was cool to the touch, and you twisted it around, enjoying the way it spun around. There were words inscribed into it, but your eyes had started to burn and you didn’t feel like shifting to bring the ring closer to see what it said. You’d figure it out eventually right?

All of a sudden, a wave of nerves flooded in. Eventually. This was long-term, way more concrete than anything you’d ever had before. Sure, you’d dated around, been with people for longer than you should have, and some that you’d missed out on before they were jet-setting halfway across the world, but nothing had been so permanent. 

This was going to be documented, filled out and filed in a court system somewhere where your marriage was nothing more than a couple of numbers in a stack of papers. Pushing the little ebbs down, you took a deeper breath, pushing air out of your nose. 

You liked him, liked Colson more than you had some of your old partners, and that spoke volumes. You guys had been friends forever, and even if you couldn’t quite decipher it in your now-tipsy state, there had always been a certain chemistry floating in between, lighting up your interactions. 

This was a good thing, you reminded yourself. The second you repeated that, the little weight seeming to build up on your chest piled back off and suddenly, you tuned back into the room where the couple seemed to be kissing in front of you. Clapping you smiled, genuinely happy for the girls in front of you. 

One of them took off the red cowboy hat, putting it on the other’s head as they broke apart and you laughed, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes. This was love. 

You got up, rushing over to congratulate them just as they had for you. 

“Thanks doll. Let me show you your pictures,” the girl geeked, pulling out her phone from her bra. 

Colson’s eyes widened from across you, and he slyly returned the phone that was in his hand before wiping his palms down his jeans. You shook your head at him, biting back a laugh. The girls were eager, stumbling over each other to swipe through the photo gallery. 

“Oh oops!” one screeched as a nude photo came into view. You turned your eyes away, hoping to give them some privacy as they figured out where exactly your photos had gone.

“Found them!” the other one exclaimed, lifting her phone in the air like it was some big trophy. You brought your focus to the screen as she pushed the photo gallery into your hand. 

Swiping through the 150 photos they had seemingly taken, you felt your lips curving up softly at the scene in front of you. There were you and Colson, your head stubbornly looking forward as I do fell out of your mouth, his hand resting right under yours, the way his gaze was focused on you in every single picture. The kiss was slightly blurry, but there were so many photos of it that you felt yourself laughing at the absurdity of it all. 

Pulling out your phone, which was miraculously at 5%, you quickly airdropped the folder to your own phone, graciously thanking the girls as the photos started to download through. There were missed call notifications lining up your screen, and you rolled in your lip as you realized you wouldn’t have enough battery to get across a message. 

Sitting back down at the pew, you pulled out your backpack, hoping that you’d packed a charger in there earlier. Rifling through the contents, you grinned pulling out a portable charger holding it in your hand. 

“Whatcha doing partner,” came Colson’s voice as he came to sit next to you. The girls were gone now, air in the chapel falling back down to the eerily calm silence you’d walked in to. 

“Gonna charge my phone so we can find our way back to the hotel,” you stated, fingers still moving through your backpack. Handing off the charger to him, you suddenly brought both hands in, moving the empty snack packets out of the bag. 

“What the fuck,” you hissed, before dumping the contents of your backpack on the pew, sorting through the junk falling out. There was no way. It had to be a mistake. 

“Lose something?” Colson asked, awkwardly holding your now-dead phone in your hand. 

“Yeah, the fucking hotel key,” you wailed, hands rushing up to your hair before you turned to him, “You don’t have one on you by any chance?”

He shook his head and then you really felt the tears building back up. The both of you were fucked, had no clue where you were, with dead phones and missing hotel keys and as Colson swiped the shit from your bag back in, you wiped hastily at the warm tears dripping down your cheeks. Great start to a marriage.

-

taglist: @iamdorka​ @no-shxt-sherl​ @bakerkells​ @findingmyths​ @rosegoldrichie​ @mayaslifeinabox​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @hnbtx​ @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​ @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @whyisgmora​ @oopsiedoopsie23​ @babybloomer​ @bolivianchickennugget​ @nimrodblackparade​ @agentstarkid​ @calum-defense-squad​

[reidmorefic]

safe // s.r (part 2)

A/N: I’m going to be honest with you all. I hated the first part to this. I rushed to get it out and I rewrote it about twenty times and I just wasn’t satisfied. I do happen to like this part a little better because I feel like I’m getting somewhere. I never expected to have more than one part, let alone more than two, but here I am. I don’t know when Part Three will be up, but I hope to get it up sometime next week around Monday or Tuesday. Have a great week everyone and happy reading!

Part 1 / Part 2 

=============================================================

Spencer

Spencer snapped his phone shut. 

He took a deep breath before turning around. When he looked up from his phone, the whole team was looking at him with concern and curiosity. He squirmed under their gazes, gripping the case file in his lap as J.J looked over at Hotch and then back at Spencer. She cleared her throat, reaching up to brush her hair back, tucking a strand behind her ear before she rested her hands in her lap. J.J and Spencer were always close to each other, so it wasn’t unusual that they would talk with their eyes. As Spencer opened his mouth to speak, J.J opened hers. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” J.J sounded nervous. “It sounds pretty serious, Spence.”

“Everything is okay.” He said quietly, nodding his head. “I just- there’s a girl. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.” 

“Reid?” Hotch lowered his voice, turning towards the youngest team member. “Is she okay?” 

“I don’t know.” Spencer mumbled, his eyes jumping from face to face. “She sounded...weird.”

“He knows how many languages?” Rossi looked at Emily. “And he just used the word weird to describe someone?” 

“And your Mom?” Derek ignored Rossi’s comment, his dark brows pulled together. “What was that about?” 

“Y/N said that my Mom called her earlier, talking about an old classmate of Y/N’s.” Spencer reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in frustration. “I’m sure it’s nothing, guys. She probably just had an episode or a delusion of some sort. We should focus on the case, we have a hostage to worry about and we don’t have a lot of time.” 

“You’re right, we don’t.” Hotch said. “But I also need your head in this, Reid. If you’re distracted, you’re better off staying here.” 

“No, my head is in this.” Spencer confirmed.

“Alright then.” Hotch nodded. “J.J go ahead.”

“So Chloe Greene was reported missing two nights ago by her neighbor.” J.J said. “She was last seen with her boyfriend Brian Metz who was found dead in his car this morning outside of her apartment.” 

J.J lifted the remote, turning the television on. The team looked up at the pictures of the missing girl and her murdered boyfriend on the television screen. 

“How was the boyfriend killed?” Spencer asked, his eyes trained on Chloe. He had seen that girl before. Spencer remembered seeing a picture of you and Chloe together. You and Chloe had gone to school together. From the stories you had told Spencer about your college days, you two were good friends. 

“He was shot. Whoever did it made sure that this looked like a suicide.” J.J looked down at the M.E report. “The coroner said there was evidence of bruising and burn marks.”

“He was held captive before he was shot.” Spencer’s eyes trailed over the report. 

“It looks like it.” Emily said. “The Unsub must have been after Chloe, but Brian was there.” 

“Brian was in the way so the unsub took him out.” Derek nodded. 

Spencer’s leg was shaking as he looked up at Chloe’s picture again. He couldn’t get over the fact that you knew Chloe. He had a nagging feeling in his gut that something wasn’t right. He reached for his phone, checking for a text message or a missed call before they left the runway. There was nothing in his call log or in his messages. He sighed, dropping his phone before looking back at the case file. If one of your classmates was in Las Vegas near his Mother and another one of your classmates was kidnapped from Los Angeles, maybe there was some kind of connection. 

“What are you thinking Reid?” J.J asked. 

“Did Chloe Greene go to Harvard Law?” Spencer looked up at his teammate. 

“Yeah.” J.J said, looking over at Hotch. 

“Get Garcia on the laptop, I have some questions for her.” Spencer said. “What about Brian Metz?” 

“No, he wasn’t.” Hotch watched Spencer as he moved his stuff aside. “Does Harvard mean anything to you, Spencer?”

“Maybe.” Spencer nodded. “Can we wait just a few more minutes before flying out? I have to make a phone call.” 

“Sure.” Hotch said. 

“P.G here, how can I help you?” Garcia chirped.

“Garcia, I need you to look for Harvard Law Graduates from the class of 2015.” Spencer dialed your number, lifting his phone to his ear as he stood up from his seat. “See if Chloe is on that list.” 

“Okay, that leaves us with 1,990 students. Chloe was on that list.” Garcia said. “Is there anything-” 

“Why were Brian and Chloe in Los Angeles?” Spencer asked, moving across the plane floor as his phone continued to ring in his ear. Spencer knew that Chloe lived in L.A, but he didn’t know why she moved there.

“Chloe Greene and Brian Metz purchased a small building on the Boulevard two years ago and they’re running a...coffee shop. It looks like neither of them passed the Bar Exam after Law School and decided to start a new career.” 

“Chloe didn’t want to go to Harvard. Her parents made her go.” Spencer mumbled, lowering his phone as he cursed under his breath. He dialed her work number, hoping she would answer the phone on her desk. After a few seconds of ringing, it went to voicemail. 

“Spencer, what is going on?” J.J looked up at him as he started to pace. Everyone watched him walking up and down the aisle. “How do you know that about Chloe?”

“The girl I’m seeing, Y/N, she knew Chloe. There’s a picture of them in her apartment from their Freshman year.” Spencer said quickly. “And now Y/N isn’t answering her phone.” 

“Do you think that this person is taking people from specifically that graduating class?” Hotch asked. 

“I don’t know.” Spencer said. You weren’t answering your work line either. “I don’t… Y/N never mentioned any kind of altercation or event that happened during their time at school that would have triggered someone to kidnap them. They’re connected but I don’t know why someone would want to take either of them.” 

“She might not have known what triggered the Unsub, Spencer.” Hotch said. “You know it doesn’t work like that.” 

“I just have a weird feeling about this Hotch.” Spencer looked at his boss as he reached over to grab his bag. “You should run that list and see if anyone else who graduated in that class went missing recentl. I’m going to find Y/N.”

“Okay.” Hotch said. “Take Emily with you. Call us as soon as you know anything.” 

“I will.” Spencer nodded. 

Reader’s pov

When you opened your eyes, you expected to be at home. 

For a brief second, you forgot how you even fell asleep in the first place. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision. When your sight was clear, you realized that you definitely weren’t at home. You were in a warehouse. A row of tinted green windows lined the top half of the warehouse, but there was nothing else identifiable about the warehouse. After squirming for a moment, you realized that your hands and feet were tied. Your skin started to burn as you moved, so you stopped. Your eyes darted around the room, trying to find any indication of another person or something that could save you. Then, panic set in, your heart pounding in your chest and your breathing erratic. There was a very good chance you weren’t going to make it out of this alive. The sun was starting to set which meant that you had probably been missing for a little over eight hours now. Spencer was in California with no idea that you had been abducted. 

Your chances weren’t looking too good at the moment. As you were trying to gather the facts, you heard metal scraping behind you. It sounded like a heavy door being opened. The fear bubbling in your chest paralyzed you, keeping you from turning your head around to see what the noise was or who had caused it.. There was no talking or any other noise for a moment, but then you heard it. The sound of something dragging across the concrete floor of the warehouse. After a few moments, you decided to close your eyes. Maybe pretending that you were still knocked out wasn’t going to do you any favors, but you hoped that it would. When the dragging noise finally stopped, you felt something fall against your back. Your body rocked forward a little, but you kept your eyes closed. You gathered all of the strength you had left to stay still. 

“We know you’re awake, Y/N.” 

We. 

Whoever it was, they knew your name. The voice didn’t sound familiar to you at all. It was definitely a male voice, that was something you were able to pick out. He sounded cocky and arrogant, but surely that wasn’t the case. If he had any true confidence in his skills, you wouldn’t be tied up to a chair in the middle of a warehouse. You lifted your head, curiosity getting the better of you. You had to know exactly who it was that had taken you. When you looked up, you weren’t sure if your eyes were deceiving you. Henry Jackson stood in front of you with a smug smirk. 

“Henry?” You whispered. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Well,” He shrugged, stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket. “I saw you in the paper the other day. I see you’ve made it big in D.C.” 

“I don’t know about that.” Shifting in your seat, you looked around. “Who else is with you? Joe?” 

“Joe? Joe Sanchez?” Henry laughed. “Joe couldn’t stomach this. He was never really good with the frat and our….games.” 

“Games?” You snorted. “Is that what you called them, Henry? Your games were sick.” 

“You didn’t really do anything to stop them though, did you?” You looked to your right as George Parker stepped into your line of sight. “You’re a hot shot lawyer with an FBI boyfriend. If our games were so sick, why have you never tried to stop us.”

“I was a kid back then, George.” Ashamed, you looked down. “And I was afraid of you.” 

“You’re not anymore?” Henry asked. 

“No, I’m not.” You cleared your throat, looking up to the two men. “Why am I here?” 

“That’s for us to know.” George chuckled. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable? We’re still waiting on a few more arrivals.” 

George moved closer, pulling something out of his pocket. Your eyes grew wide as you looked down at the needle he was bringing towards your arm. You squirmed in your seat, shaking your head as you looked up at George. 

“Don’t do this.” You said. “Please, George!” 

Before you could finish your thought, you were out again.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {40}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 40: The Show Must Go On

-Vixen-

 “You may get knocked down fifty times but you better get up fifty-one, sugar.”

 Your grandmother’s words were the fuel for you that morning. You woke up before the sun rose and jogged five miles. Thankfully where you were staying was still private probably thanks to it being a gated community. You ran like your life depended on it, ran like someone was chasing you, ran like your very existence was threatened. When you were tired you pushed yourself, when you wanted to stop you forced yourself to keep going. On this run it was then you vowed to not let this new setback keep you down. You hadn’t gotten where you were today by letting punches keep you down.

 By the time you returned to shower the sun was up as was Ella. Your mother was in the kitchen preparing her breakfast. When you walked in she watched you, assessing if it was safe for her to begin.

 “Good morning mom.”

 “Good morning. Up early I see.”

 “Yep, early bird gets the worm, plus I have things to do,” you informed.

 “Here, have some oatmeal.” She put a bowl on the counter and waited for you to sit. Deciding it was smarter to appease then object you sat and plopped Ella beside you.

“Thank you.”

 You took a few bites and moaned. Ella joined in as well. Silence filled the kitchen, but you could hear the unspoken questions. You knew it was a matter of time.

“Vixen. How are you?” Her inquisitive tone held a deeper question, you could hear it.

 “I’m good.” It was a bold face lie and you knew she knew it. She didn’t acknowledge it though.

 “Vixen. How are you?” Flaring your nose you looked at her with a blank expression then smiled.

 “I’m good, mom.” You held her gaze and kept the smile on your face. She hummed then walked away. The clink of her heels on the floor stopped momentarily.

 “One day you’re going to have to stop lying to yourself. One day you will have to face your feelings. That day is nearing my precious girl.”

 She continued to walk, and you felt like she’d just uttered a curse on you. Shaking it off you focused on breakfast with Ella.

 After cleaning up the mess she’d made and given her a quick bath you checked messages that only had to do with work. you set up a meet with Kassius motivated to get back on track. You were not going to let this thing take over. You found the best outfit that screamed taking control and made your move to leave. As you were getting into your car Nex ran out to you with a tight hug.

 “What is this for?”

 “I’m here for you Vix, no matter what, no matter when. I am here. Just remembered that sometimes our strengths are also our weaknesses.” She placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and walked back inside. You glared at her back, that was not what you needed to hear right now. It was the last thing.

Sitting in front of Kassius forty minutes later neither of you spoke for several long minutes. He scrolled through his tablet with a pensive look on his face. A look that you couldn’t decipher. You couldn’t tell if he were angry, regretting his decision to bank on you, wishing he could nix the contract or what. Your leg began bouncing up and down as you flexed your finger bending it back and forth letting your joint pop in and out, these were your nervous ticks, ticks that you’d learned to control over the years but they flared up every now and then.

 Kassius sighed and flipped the cover of his tablet shut before he looked at you.

 “Eventful few days huh.”

 You busted out laughing. You shouldn’t have laughed; this was no laughing matter but laugh you did. A full minute passed where you heartily laughed. You felt like it had been weeks since you had when in fact it had been just a day or two. When you finally stopped Kassius still sat there with a small smirk on his face, but he looked like he wasn’t shocked.

 “I’m sorry. I have no idea why I laughed. This is not funny.”

 “It’s okay. I get it. The body’s response to stress can be humor. Perfectly normal, don’t worry about it.”

 You slowly breathed out and nodded.

 “How are you holding up? If I know anything about paparazzi they are relentless.”

 “You have no fucking idea.”

 “I’m fine, thank you.”

 “Are you really? From everything I’ve seen this is a big deal. This isn’t just some actor; this is Chris Evans,” he reiterated.

 You took in a shuddered breath and slowly let it out.

 “I would understand if you weren’t fine. I would understand if you were far from it.”

 “I’m--.”

 “Fine,” Kassius finished. He sighed and leaned closer on his desk.

 “Vixen, at this point we’re in this together. I need to know every surprise, everything to expect. This is your business I get it. I just don’t want any more surprises.”

 “I know. Kassius I didn’t know about this. It was just a shock to me as it was to you. I didn’t know we were still married. We met in Vegas got married drunk and the rest is everywhere,” you confessed.

 Kassius nodded and circled his thumbs.

 “I see. So our predicament is how do we move forward. Theoretically, they say no press is bad press so--.”

 “No, we’re not doing that. I see where you’re going and I’m gonna stop you there. I don’t want to use anything about him or this during this promo for the restaurant. We’re staying clear away from this.”

 Kassius studied you for a few moments then nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Okay. You have my word we won’t use this.”

 You nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.

 “We won’t use it but because it is already everywhere there is no way around it. they know who you are, they know what is happening. They will be around. We won’t play it up but that doesn’t mean there won’t be any association.”

 You understood. He meant that the paparazzi would use it and not necessarily be kind or gentle.

 “In light of things it wouldn’t hurt if you took a few days to lay low and work through this,” Kassius suggested.

 “No. That’s not necessary. I don’t need to take any time. We should keep moving forward. We’re close to the goal, let’s get there.”

 Again, Kassius studied you. he looked concerned but also slightly impressed.

 “Okay. Full force ahead.”

 The next hour went by where he went over the plan for the remaining weeks of construction, renovation, and promotion. He also gave you great news that Food Network sent over a preliminary contract for partnership with them. Turns out the video of your shoot slash impromptu cooking session was posted to YouTube and it got their attention. They loved it. So now you had the restaurant to look forward to and a Food Network show. You couldn’t believe how the tides of your life had changed.

 By midday, you pulled up to your restaurant to find a sea of paparazzo camped outside. Your jaw dropped as you surveilled any way to get inside without being seen. There was none, even the service entry was in plain sight. You sat there having a minor freak out moment as you realized you had to face this now. After almost ten minutes you got out of the car and walked toward the restaurant. Halfway across the street one of them saw you and approached shouting his question.

 “Vixen, Vixen anything to say to the world as Mrs. Evans? Anything to say to those who have said you’re a gold digger?”

 You clenched your jaw and focused on pushing through them. The sea of them was strong, like an ocean current.

 “Anything to say to rumors that you intentionally trapped Chris with this baby?”

 “Excuse me! Move!”

 Finally, you pushed through to the door and rushed inside locking it behind you before you did you caught one last question.

“Vixen, would you say you’re his black woman fetish he has to play through?” 

You stood there and watched them snap pictures and shout outside the glass. The shock of the question enveloped you. This was a nightmare, an insane nightmare you thought. Your anger was the only fuel you needed for the rest of the day. You busied yourself any way you could. You worked with the design team that was already there and completed the rest of your to-do list for the day. Your phone continuously dinged to inform you that you had a new message and all you did was ignore it. You didn’t have the time or patience for anything that began with C and ended with S or anyone who wanted to bring him up.

 By eleven, most of the installation was completed as were the concrete plans for the design. You were the last one there. Standing in the middle of the dining area you slowly spun around. You could envision what it would look like when it was all said and done. You were so close you could see the finish line. So close and then you could go back to San Francisco. Another sigh left you when the realization that San Francisco may be getting further and further away especially now with Food Network in the mix. Your thirst for success may be the double-edged sword that forever connected you to this place—the land of the fake.

 A knock at the door signaled the arrival of your security. Things were so insane you now needed security to get from your business to your car. This felt like some alternate universe. Once you stepped out onto the sidewalk the flash of the camera bulbs was more prominent and blinding. The two burly men surrounded you from both sides and guided you through the swarm of vermin.

 From your normal life in San Fran when you looked through tabloid magazines you didn’t think about how it really was for those who were hounded. It was an afterthought that it must have been tough and such an invasion of privacy but now that you’d experienced it, you didn’t know how any of them did it. After an agonizing minute, you were in your car stepping hard on the gas and getting the hell out of there.

  -Chris-

 “Fuck!”

 He nearly threw his phone across the room. He’d been calling for days and you never answered. He left messages, you never returned them. He texted, no response. Now when he called it went straight to voicemail, he suspected you’d blocked his number. You were distancing yourself and refused to hear him out.

 “Woah, woah, put the phone down and back away,” Mackie said from across the room. He rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood.

 “I’m not in the mood, man. See yourself back out.”

 “Wow, that was a dick thing to say.”

 “Mackie.”

 It was a warning, a warning he was almost certain Anthony wouldn’t heed. He didn’t wait around to see though. He walked to the kitchen and to the bar he had. His alcohol supply was dwindling. Forgoing a glass, he took up the bottle of rum and put it to his head. The burn was a wake-up call. Rum was not his preferred drink but desperate times.

 “Sounds like you’re still going through your dick phase. Only dicks keep a secret from their wives that could implode right in their faces. What the hell man!?”

 He didn’t respond. He stared at the bottle of amber-colored liquid.

 “Come on man. You had to know that it was a bad idea lying about it. You had to know that she would have found out and every day you didn’t tell her would make it that much worse.”

 “I know. Fuck I know! I fucked up. I tried to tell her, so many times. I just—I didn’t know how. Then the closer we got, the more time we spent together I started—I didn’t want to lose her. I thought I just needed time to show her I’m not the same asshole from Vegas, that I was different,” he blurted out before he took another swig of Rum.

 “That is the worst plan I’ve ever heard. Man, you white people always coming up with these elaborate schemes that you swear are genius ideas but are really great piles of horseshit.”

 He kissed his teeth and walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t want to hear this right now.

 “You may not want to hear it bruh, but you need to. You fucked this up. You should have just told her and let the chips fall where they may.”

 He knew everything he was saying was true. He knew it. Part of him said he should have done just that, but the other part won out.

 “I know,” he admitted.

 “So, what are you gonna do to fix this? Nexus is pissed man. She’s not one hundred percent pissed because she knew about the married thing but she’s pissed about not knowing you were still married. Pissed that you lied. Pissed that she liked you and was rooting for you. Should I continue?”

 “You can stop.”

 “So?”

 He thought about it for a minute before he spoke. “I don’t know man, I call her, she doesn’t answer. She is pissed,” he explained.

 “Rightfully so. So what are you gonna do about it?”

 “You say it like it’s easy. Like I have so many options.”

 “You do. You’re Chris fucking Evans, mega rich, so many things at your disposal.”

 “I can’t money my way out of this. She’s not like that and you know it.”

 “Good answer. Thank god that dick persona knows where not to go. That was a test. You passed.”

 “I don’t want to lose her Anthony; I don’t want to lose my family. I had some sort of epiphany in Boston, some sort of vision of what really mattered, what I really wanted, and I only want her and Ella, this fame shit—keep it. I want her, over everything.”

 Antony stared at him, assessing his body language and face, then he nodded.

 “Then go get em’, man.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[artificialqueens]

The Goode Case, 3/14 - Juno

Chapter Summary: Jaida can’t sleep, thanks to her recurring nightmare, which prompts her to relive how Jackie revealed her own gift, and how she found out about Jaida’s, in an evening that Jaida, Jackie and Brita are unlikely to forget any time soon …

(A/N: I really appreciate your supportive comments, thank you! Hopefully I will have another update ready in the next couple of days on this monster of a story. For now though, here is part three.)

Sunday 29thOctober

4.13AM

Jaida sat up, drenched in sweat from the familiar nightmare.

She blinked, and she could still see her Papa in the corner, as she had that horrible night.

The nightmare was almost always just a replay of the experience. The first time she recalled seeing a spirit.

She and her parents had stayed in the room with her beloved Papa’s body in the coffin the night before his wake, when Jaida was just seven. She’d known her Papa was in the coffin, but suddenly his spectre was in the corner, pale and blank; she’d watched him walk from the corner of the room to Jaida, while Jaida lay paralysed with fear, unable to make a sound; and reach his hand towards her, bringing his face closer …

That was always the point that Jaida woke up, and today was no different. She waited for her eyes to focus in the dark, her breathing to calm, and she closed her eyes, counted to five, and when she opened them, Papa had disappeared as he always did.

But the memory didn’t fade. It never did.

Jaida had not had many close relatives die, but she remembered her friend Marty back in senior year of high school, seeing his mom behind him, reaching to shake his shoulder, but Jaida being the only person to see her. Marty had spun round at Jaida’s cry, not seeing his mom even though she was right there, clear as crystal, to Jaida’s eyes at least. He’d then avoided Jaida the rest of senior year when it had turned out his mother had had a fatal heart attack earlier that day.

And later at college. Laura stood on the bridge, looking down at the water, then at Jaida, then at the water again. A day before Jaida had found out that Laura had leapt from that same bridge three days ago.

Part of Jaida really hated the gift – or curse, as she thought privately – but without it, she and Jackie wouldn’t have become so close so quickly. Jackie’s telepathy, and subsequent mental bond that she’d formed with both Jaida and Brita, had been weird at first, but now Jackie was the only person who knew about Jaida’s ability.

Jackie referred to it as mediumship, while Jaida just called it a pain in the ass.

Jackie couldn’t see these spirits, just as Jaida couldn’t read minds, but at least Jackie knew that she wasn’t crazy, or lying. And as the oldest, the self-appointed ‘mom friend’ of the group, Jackie would often look after them at her own expense.

For instance, at this moment, Jaida knew that her nightmare, and seeing her Papa in her room, would have made Jackie wake up, sensing Jaida’s terror even from this distance, thanks to that psychic bond that Jaida had insisted on trying out with her. Jackie would now be online, waiting for Jaida to message her if she needed anything.

Sure enough, when Jaida picked up her phone, waiting for her eyes to focus, Jackie was the only person online, apart from that one girl from college who’d moved to London and was five hours ahead.

Springing from her memory, she remembered Jackie describing her telepathy to her and Brita, after they’d taken Jackie to Vanjie’s after her first week.

————————————

It was, oddly enough, Brita’s idea. Brita was not one to suggest a trip to the bar, normally being more inclined to rest at home in the evenings one of her hoards of books and a mug of hot chocolate; but the day Jackie joined back in June, that fateful Monday, Brita was dumped. By text, as well.

Brita had pulled Jaida into the bathroom at the end of the day, outwardly as always a tower of strength, professional and proud; to crumple into a heap over the sink, inconsolable, crying so desperately that it was all Jaida could do not to cry herself.

Luckily for Brita, her seemingly endless torrent of friends rang her phone off the hook the next few days, trying to persuade her to go out, telling her to forget him, sending her pictures of plenty of hot men and women to drool over. Brita had just chuckled, but Jaida knew she was feeling the love from all angles at this time.

That week she’d already been out with her friend Paul Mantione and his sister Jan on the Wednesday; and her two older sisters on the Thursday for food and plenty of red wine; but Friday she suggested to Jaida a trip to Vanjie’s after work, as Vanjie’s was for an LGBT+ crowd which suited them both. They’d invited Jackie mostly out of politeness, not sure how she would feel in a gay bar, but Jackie had accepted with such enthusiasm that it seemed to seal the deal.

Vanessa, the owner of Vanjie’s, and Brita had been joined at the hip through most of college, but Vanessa had bought the lease to the bar after winning big money on her spontaneous trip to Vegas that time, along with her on-again off-again partner Brooke. At that time, they were off-again, which meant Vanessa wanted everyone to enjoy themselves as much as possible, and that meant free shots.

So the tequila slammer was free, and that served to loosen the pockets for one more each. Tequila slammers were not Jackie’s strong suit, but Jaida could probably take three and be fine, and the three of them had ended up in a booth afterwards with some tall cocktails, heads feeling fuzzier and fuzzier.

After two slammers and a cocktail, Jackie’s tongue had loosened considerably. She had started finishing Jaida’s sentences, and then Brita’s too. It started to become a little annoying, Jaida had to admit.

But then Jackie was finishing sentences, and starting sentences that Jaida was only thinking.

“How are you doing that?” Jaida had asked Jackie, whose face was getting quite pink. She had leaned in towards Brita and Jaida, putting a finger to her lips.

“I can hear other peoples’ thoughts,” Jackie had whispered, laughing at her own remark.

Of all the things that Jaida might have expected Jackie to respond, that had been pretty low on the list. Jaida could only stare open-mouthed, and finally nod. “Okay, that’s cool.”

“Maybe you’ve had enough now, Jacks,” Brita had laughed uneasily.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s a gift, my mom says. Well, I didn’t ask for it, and it’s a bit strange, and sometimes I don’t know what it does, so it’s like, a perfect birthday gift from relatives,” Jackie had continued, still laughing.

“Child –“

“You’re joking, right?” Brita had asked in a low voice.

“No, Brita, it’s real,” Jackie had sighed. “Okay, think of something and I’ll tell you it.”

“Alright,” Brita had screwed up her face in concentration.

“Oh, come on, you have to think of something harder than that! You’re just thinking about your birthday. It’s September 16th. I thought you were going to test me!”

The smile fell from Brita’s face, and Jaida had felt her own stomach twist uncomfortably. Jackie had just snorted with laughter at both of them.

“Your faces! Oh my god! You didn’t believe me at first!” She’d placed a hand on Jaida’s forearm. “Do you believe me now?”

“What’s mine, then?” Jaida had asked, thinking of a random date.

But Jackie had cocked an eyebrow. “You’re thinking of July 10th, but you’re trying to throw me off. That’s not your actual birthday.”

“Wait, what?” Brita had looked stunned, her eyes wide, turning from Jackie to Jaida and back again.

Jaida had felt a strange lump in her throat. “That was the right date I was thinking, but it’s not actually my birthday. How – how did you know?”

Jackie had shrugged. “I hear almost everyone’s thoughts. Mostly just whispers. So if there’s a lot of people in a group, they all get confused, but if I’m just with one or two people, I can hear the whispers.”

“Can you hear, like anyone’s thoughts? Like, can you hear Lisa Rinna’s thoughts?” Brita had asked in awe.

But Jackie had shook her head. “No, I can only hear people who are nearby, like, not more than about two metres away. So I can hear your thoughts, just the whispers, but I can’t hear Vanessa’s at the bar. Only people who are nearby. Unless they’re someone I’ve connected with.”

“Connected with?” Jaida had asked.

“So if I form a mental connection with someone, I can also know when they’re feeling an extreme emotion, wherever they are in the world. When my mom was ill, I felt it every time she woke up in pain, or was in hospital, or thought she was dying, or was scared or like, really excited when she was getting better. She’s in Toronto.”

“Is she better now?”

“She’s much better, thank you.”

“Does that mean she can read your thoughts too?” Brita had whispered.

“I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone can. Unless you’re also psychic.” Jackie had hiccuped and then giggled. “Sorry, alcohol makes me chatty! But, I think everyone is a little bit psychic, maybe in different ways.”

And Jackie had turned to Jaida, looking straight in her eyes.

Could Jackie hear her own thoughts …

Jaida forced herself not to think about anything, to make her mind as blank as possible.

“SHOTS! Who ordered shots? Oh wait, it was me!” It was Vanessa who’d broken the spell, appearing at the corner of the booth, three more tequila shots and a plate of lemon and salt beside it. “Get some shots down your throats ladies, and maybe later get something else down your throats too!” Vanessa had cackled at her own joke.

Jaida had felt her shoulders relax a little. Jackie wasn’t a big drinker, and was a bit more drunk than she and Brita were, so Brita had taken two slammers leaving Jackie to just relax, and take a sip of the water on the table.

“Who do you have a connection with then?” Jaida had asked, wanting to change the subject.

“Whoever I choose,” Jackie had replied mysteriously, wriggling her fingers in both their directions before collapsing into giggles.

——————————————————

Jaida looked at her phone. Jackie was still online, and Jaida knew she wouldn’t log off without a prompt.

Jaida:I’m ok Jackie, thanks

Jackie: He can’t hurt you

Jaida:I know

Jackie always told Jaida this, every time Jaida had seen … someone. She wasn’t sure how Jackie had so much knowledge of all this psychic stuff, and she wasn’t even sure why Jackie was so open about it with people she had hardly met. Part of Jaida was convinced that Jackie found out about it from that night in Vanjie’s, although it wasn’t confirmed until … until that night at Jackie’s apartment.

She had a gnawing sense of regret at asking Jackie to do what she’d crudely titled “the connection thing” with her. Brita had been a bit more cautious as usual, but Jaida had wanted to know what it meant. And if it would make her know Jackie’s thoughts too.

——————————————————

In mid-July, Jackie invited them both to her apartment, as a bit of an attempt to get to know the two of them a little better. She had moved in with some girl who had so many jobs that she was never in, but left a whirlwind of clothes and bowls of cornflakes in her wake.

Jaida marvelled at the atmosphere that Jackie had managed to create. They rented, so they weren’t allowed to do major renovation, but a patterned shawl here and a plant or two there had given the plain magnolia walls some life. The living room led out to a tiny Juliet balcony with just enough room for the ashtray and a packet of menthols next to it, and a pair of dirty walking boots on the floor.

There were two bookshelves along the wall of the living area, a large oblong room with a dining table pushed against one wall. Jaida ran a finger along the titles, several French books among them too, and a small collection of Farsi books in the top left shelf.

“You got almost as many books as Brita!”

“I’ve got far more books than this!” Brita waved her hand dismissively.

“Some of these are my housemate’s as well.”

“Wait, you speak French?” Jaida pointed to one of the French titles.

“Sure. I’m Canadian, we had to take French at school.”

“And are these Farsi?”

Jackie nodded. “I’m bilingual in Farsi and English. I wish I got the chance to speak it more, normally I just chat to my mom or her siblings, when they call up. It’s easy to lose bits of it when you don’t speak it or use it too much.”

“And is this … oh, girl,” Jaida pulled the chess set out from one of the middle shelves, her eyes lighting up. “I haven’t played since seventh grade.”

“What? That’s when I started playing!” Brita exclaimed.

Jackie laughed. “You’ll both have to teach me again, I’m so bad at chess. But go ahead and play if you want, while I get the food ready.”

A beautiful smell was coming from the kitchen area. When Jackie had said she’d cook for them, Jaida had maybe expected frozen pizza, but Jackie had really put in an effort to impress them, running back and forth, chopping and blitzing noises filling the room. Jaida and Brita unpacked the chess pieces and started to play, but Brita kept calling to Jackie to see if she needed any help.

“Nope! It’s all under control!” Came Jackie’s chirpy reply each time.

In chess, Jaida had learned long ago to watch her opponent’s eyes to see where they was thinking of moving to and from, and sure enough Brita’s brown eyes flicking between the pieces gave away her every thought. Jaida liked to pride herself on having a much better poker face, letting her vision drift across the board, and trusting her instinct, even if her pieces started disappearing.

When Jackie finally came to sit in front of them, it was Brita’s move, and she was scratching her neck and licking her lips. Brita was one of those who took five minutes or more with each move, planning her strategy each time, always meticulous to take every single angle into account.

Jackie moved her gaze between them both, a small smile playing on her lips, not attempting to break the silence, just enjoying having their company in her home.

“You’re both really interesting to listen to, while you’re playing,” Jackie said finally, as Brita moved her bishop into place.

“What?”

“I mean, your thoughts, your plans for the game. You’re both strategising. You’re both just thinking about your plans.”

“Oh, okay.” Jaida ignored Jackie and moved her rook past Brita’s bishop. “Check.”

“Wait, how?” Brita peered at the board. “Ah, shit,” she mumbled as she realised. “Shit, sis, I completely missed that.”

“Sorry,” Jackie whispered, getting up and moving back to the kitchen.

Brita reached to her. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” She got up and followed Jackie to the kitchen. Jaida glanced at the board, then sighed and got up.

A minute later, Brita measuring out rice, while Jackie handed Jaida some vegetables from the bottom drawer of the fridge. Brita had felt like she’d insulted Jackie, and had insisted they help with some food prep. Jaida had been volunteered for salad.

“What is it?” Jaida peered into the simmering pan. “Smells great.”

“Khoresh Bademjan. It’s Persian. You’ll like it, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t. And don’t worry, Jaida, I made it vegetarian.”

“Cool, thanks,” Jaida smiled.

The food was gorgeous, although Jackie kept glancing at them, as if looking for some kind of validation – but once they were all done, Brita immediately leapt from her chair and dragged Jaida to the sink to tackle the washing up. With Jaida drying and Brita washing, Jackie insisting on putting the dishes away, they settled into a comfortable silence between the three of them.

“Thanks for everything, Jackie.” Jaida passed her the last dish and cleared her throat. “Sorry I made you feel a bit – you know, weird. That was rude of me. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jackie shook her head sadly. “I’m used to keeping it to myself, but it kind of feels nice to talk about it though.”

Jaida had to admit she’d only half-considered how Jackie was feeling about talking about it.

“Do lots of people know?” Brita asked her.

But Jackie shook her head. “My mom does, and one or two of my closest friends back home. And you guys, but we’re friends too, right?”

“Sure, we have each other’s backs!” Brita pulled Jackie into a one-armed hug, squeezing Jackie into her side.

“If you’re psychic, why can’t you just wash these dishes with your mind?”

They’d rarely heard Jackie laugh louder than at Jaida’s remark. “Jai, that’s telekinesis! I’m only telepathic! Well, I say only telepathic!” And she carried on laughing. “I only hear thoughts, nothing else, I can’t move things!”

“So you can hear our thoughts, but you have to, like, connect with someone to be able to have a mental bond?” Jaida asked. “I don’t quite get it.”

“I guess … people I have a bond with, I hear more clearly. People I don’t I just hear whispers, but anyone I have a bond with, I can hear what they’re thinking really clearly, and from a longer distance.”

“Who have you got a bond with then?”

“Oh, you know, not many people,” Jackie murmured.

“Family? Friends?” Brita badgered.

Jackie sighed. “Those kinds of people, yes. My mom, a couple of my friends. One ex.” Jackie shuddered. “Bad decision. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

“What about us? Would you do the connection thing with us? For work?”

Jaida hadn’t expected the words to come right out of her mouth, but now that they were, Jackie looked as if she was pondering it. Maybe Jaida had felt that she needed to make it up to Jackie for earlier. Maybe … it was a sort of morbid curiosity.

Jackie’s gaze had softened, and she’d shrugged.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Jackie mused, “if we’re working on any high profile cases together, and if anything happens to you, I would know.”

“And vice versa?” Jaida asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jackie muttered, “but nothing has really ever happened to me.”

“You can’t tempt fate, sis,” Brita chuckled darkly.

“Okay,” Jaida said, “it makes sense to do it. What do you do, to connect?”

“I’m not so sure about this,” Brita hesitated.

“Come on Brita, it does make sense. Especially in our line of work. Does it take long, Jackie?” Jaida asked.

“It probably won’t take longer than about fifteen seconds, and I just need some form of touch, and eye contact. And you need to be willing, of course.”

Jaida held out a hand on the bench, and Jackie gingerly took it, raising her eyes to meet Jaida’s.

“You sure you want to do this? You don’t want to back out?” Jackie’s voice was higher than usual, and a little bit timid, as if she were afraid to have any form of connection with them.

“Go ahead, Jackie,” Jaida tried to make her voice sound as stable as she could.

“Okay. And you have to keep eye contact, until the end. You’ll know when it’s the end.”

Jackie took a deep breath in and out, and Jaida did the same, feeling her body relax a little bit as she did so. At first Jaida felt nothing, but held Jackie’s eyes, both of them falling silent. She could see Brita shifting out of the corner of her eye, but she kept focused on Jackie, breathing steadily, normally.

The seconds passed, but nothing was happening. She could see Brita biting her lip, a little confused.

“Nothing’s happening,” Jaida opened her mouth to say, or at least she thought she did, but nothing came out of it, and she wasn’t even sure her mouth moved.

“What?” She tried to say, but her mouth definitely didn’t move that time.

Jackie was still staring into her, and it was becoming intrusive, unnerving, but Jaida found she couldn’t look away, she was becoming a little light-headed at the focus.

She felt an internal jerk, as if electricity had gone through her; felt her mind race, a whole rush of emotions and memories play back to her in her mind, some echoes of thoughts that weren’t her own; saw herself briefly through Jackie’s own eyes, felt her own hand in Jackie’s, heard herself thinking thoughts that were definitely not her …

Jackie pulled back, blinking and shaking her head wildly, and Jaida was finally freed, feeling as if she had been yanked backwards out of a vacuum. She rubbed her forehead, finding she was sweating.

“Woah,” Jaida whispered.

It was rare to see Brita scared. Her wide eyes flicked between Jaida and Jackie, her mouth agape, looking less and less sure she wanted to do this.

Jackie held out a hand to her. “Brita?”

Brita was no coward, Jaida knew this well from the various jobs she had seen Brita complete. She might have been frightened, but she nodded slowly, holding her own hand out, facing Jackie and locking eyes with her.

Jaida watched them both. Watched as Jackie’s face grew intense with concentration. Watched as Brita’s brow furrowed, as if she were in pain.

“Ow,” she breathed.

But Jackie didn’t relent.

“Oww,” Brita’s voice was weak, but she maintained focus.

They both flinched at the same moment, pain etched in the lines on their foreheads, but Jaida didn’t know what to do in this strange psychic battle. It seemed to be going on longer than she had done with Jackie, their stares so intense they could have burned through each other.

“Jackie, what’s happening?” She asked, but Jackie didn’t respond, nor Brita, both still intensely concentrated on each other.

“What’s –“ Jaida raised a hand, but they both jolted at that moment, breaking apart, Brita ripping her hand away, and Jackie looking down at the floor, biting her lip.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “it’s not meant to hurt so much. It never has with anyone else …”

But Brita, her eyes glassy, blinked twice and stumbled out of the room as if she hadn’t heard, making her way away to the bathroom.

“Brita?” Jaida started to move after her, but Jackie grabbed her forearm.

“Let her go, Jaida, I think she needs to be alone,” Jackie murmured, and Jaida stepped backwards, watching Brita’s dazed walk to the bathroom.

Jaida’s own mind was reeling at the contact. Her mind raced with questions.

Were she and Jackie now bonded to each other mentally?

Did that mean that Jackie knew about Jaida’s own sixth sense, the Bruce Willis cliché twist; that Jaida saw spirits that most others didn’t?

“Yes,” Jackie muttered. “And yes.”

Jaida saw Jackie watching her, her eyes full of something that Jaida thought was … pity.

————————————————————————

Jaida sighed at the memory. It had brought the three of them closer, that was for sure, but Jackie had refused to tell Brita what Jaida saw. Just as she had refused to tell Jaida what had happened with Brita too – she’d argued that they both needed to take charge themselves.

The clock said almost four thirty by now, and Jackie was still online, so Jaida turned her phone off. Jackie would go offline and back to sleep, as long as she knew Jaida was alright. The mom-friend, who wanted to save everyone in the world.

Jaida wondered if Jackie had craved that support, that care, when she was learning about her own telepathy; to make her offer herself so selflessly now.

She lay back down, pondering that warm July night.

And Brita … she and Brita knew so much about each other. Jaida had been the first person to whom Brita had confessed to being attracted to women as well as men, and Jaida had helped Brita plan her coming out to her sisters and parents. And when Silky had broken up with Jaida back in May, Brita had been at her house within half an hour, mopping up the tears that Jaida rarely let the world see, getting them both dressed and made up, and pulling both Jaida and Widow to a karaoke bar to belt out some tunes, Heidi hot on their heels.

Jaida smiled fondly at that memory. Jaida was a terrible singer, she knew that, and Widow was a bit too shy to sing, but Brita’s voice was fantastic. When Brita had hit the high note in Unbreak My Heart, Jaida had felt goose pimples run down her arms, before she was crying again and Widow had wrapped her up, not saying a word, simply letting Jaida unravel in her arms, while Heidi had stroked her back soothingly.

It was wrong that Brita still didn’t know what her gift was. Jackie was right – Jaida knew that she and Brita were keeping huge parts of themselves hidden from each other, even though they’d been friends for three years.

Enough was enough.

Jaida resolved to talk to Brita in the morning.

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 11

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW, a bulldozer

WC: 6.1k

-----------

Penny stops outside the spotless glass doors of Silver’s home and uses the reflection to primp one last time. 

She’s in fine form today, at least on the outside. In a sleek peach-toned Cushnie pencil dress and the first pair of Louboutins she ever purchased (the nude ones with the pointed toes), she means business. She’s the kind of put together that puts the fear of god into the hearts of every man she walks past. She craves that kind of control right now.

She can’t control her feelings, she can’t control his. But she can control her wardrobe and her hair and the reports she runs for the monthly La Splendeur financials. She fights to focus on what she can control.

Silver’s housekeeper walks her back to the library. Silver in a pantsuit black as night sits in sharp relief against her walls stacked high with colorful books. The first time Penny ever made Silver laugh was the first time Silver invited her here and Penny immediately commented on its resemblance to the Beast’s library in Beauty and the Beast.

Silver looks pleased to see her. Any residual weirdness from their last meeting is gone, at least visibly. She’s serving lapsang oolong from her English garden tea set today.

“Good morning, love. I do like your dress. And your necklace sits above it nicely.”

Penny lifts a hand like she wants to check it’s still there. She’s wearing Shawn’s necklace. It seems a waste to leave it in a box in a safe, where it’s been since Ava died. Silver herself said that. And it does go so well with the dress.

Penny smiles placidly. “Thank you. How was Monaco?”

Silver looks mischievous for a moment. Penny finds herself grinning back, enjoying the spark she sees.

“Hot. A little muggy. Terribly crowded.”

Silver’s expression doesn’t match her words.

“Who is she?” Penny laughs.

Silver lifts her chin in defiance. “Tell me I’m not that transparent.”

Penny snorts indelicately and sips her tea. “Silver, you’re as transparent as a cinderblock. But you forget how well I know you.”

The women exchange a meaningful look. Silver glances down at her perfect manicure.

“Her name is Sylvie. She owns a cafe on the Boulevard de Suisse. She makes the best mille feuille I’ve ever had.”

Penny’s eyebrows lift slightly. There’s something in Silver’s voice now that replaces the familiar mischief with which she talks about her romantic dalliances. It’s a little trembling, a little soft, a little warm. Penny attempts to remain stoic. Spooking her is the worst possible thing Penny could do.

“Wow. Sounds like a nice trip.”

Silver meets her eyes. “It was. I’ll be going back next week.”

Penny only barely manages to school her face out of a delighted grin. Silver shakes her head softly and opens her portfolio.

Numbers are up this summer from last. All the girls have been doing very well. Silver has interest in bringing on a few more, has gotten recommendations from girls on the roster, which is where the best talent comes from. Penny assures her that financially, they’re in an excellent position to expand.

“Speaking of expanding, how are things looking on the non-profit end?” Penny murmurs without looking up from her laptop. She can feel Silver’s curious gaze.

“Still tying up some legal loose ends in the back before we really move ahead,” Silver answers carefully.

Penny looks up now with her game face on. “Anything I can do to help us along? I’d like to get moving on it.”

Silver’s expression goes a little sour. She puts her teacup down more forcefully than necessary. Penny flinches.

“You were singing a different tune during our last meeting, love.”

The corners of Penny’s lips pull in slightly. “I don’t believe that’s true, I checked on the progress and you gave me an update and said it was slow. I’m checking again now and you say it’s still slow. So perhaps I should step in.”

Silver’s eyes narrow. “Please don’t forget how well I know you.”

The words are simple and somehow both threatening and loving. Penny’s stable facade breaks. She looks down.

“I know very well how long you’ve wanted to do this kind of work. I know how important this is to you. That’s why I was surprised when you seemed flippant about it last week.”

“I wasn’t flippant, I--”

“Penny, please. Don’t suggest that I can’t read you. It’s insulting to me and to our friendship.”

Penny’s mouth shuts. She feels like a scolded child.

“And now you’re getting impatient to get started. I don’t understand, my darling. Please. Explain this to me.”

Penny’s lips part. She hesitates and reaches for her teacup instead.

Silver softens. “You’re allowed to be a little lost, you know.”

Penny’s eyes shut as she chews on her lower lip. “Don’t like getting lost,” she mutters.

“None of us do, babe. But you need to choose your path now. You owe it to your clients and to this foundation.”

Penny’s expression goes dark. “Don’t make this about him.”

Silver eschews her infuriating wise owl gaze and leans into sympathy instead. She shakes her head slowly.

“I didn’t. You seem to have gotten there on your own.”

Penny’s face goes hot. Her chin quivers slightly. Silver reaches across the table and takes her hand. The physical contact freezes Penny in her tracks.

“Listen to me, my love. I know this is scary. Everything is changing on you right now. But you always knew you couldn’t escort forever. You always knew you wanted to help in a larger, more lasting way. I know he isn’t the reason you want to move forward with the foundation. But… it’s ok if he’s the reason you want to do it now.”

Penny’s jaw locks up. Her hand slips cold from her friend’s grasp. She gathers her folders and laptop and stands.

“I have to go.”

Her voice is a croak. Silver winces in response, but leans back in her seat and watches her go.

+

Well this is…. Not what he pictured.

Shawn’s not exactly sure what he envisioned when he thought about where Penny lives. It shifted depending on her mood when she was with him. Sometimes he imagined her living in a big, scary haunted house-looking mansion deep in the Hills. Sometimes he pictured a bright, vibrant penthouse in Santa Monica.

Not this. It’s so… normal.

It’s lovely, obviously. It’s a little cottage almost all by itself in the Studio City hills. She parks the leased Passat in the driveway and keeps the Aston Martin in the garage. She has a welcome mat that asks visitors to wipe their paws. Pammy’s leash is hanging from a railing on the porch.

He stands in front of her door for almost five minutes trying to prepare himself to walk into her private space and not become a walking heart eye emoji. 

He’s in LA for 24 hours for meetings and a premiere with Bex. He has painters in his house, so they can’t go there. He doesn’t even have time for an overnight with her. So she takes him as an in call.

It’s standard procedure to have a driver meet the client at the courtesan’s house when she’s taking an in call, but Penny waved Gus off. Given that she’s a partner in the business, she has the power to do so. Gus sends her confirmation of Shawn’s wire transfer and tells her if she needs anything, anything at all, he’ll be close by at Jamie’s tennis tournament. He’s a little twitchy, she thinks, because actually, Penny’s never taken an in call before.

Pammy hears him walk up before she does, even over the soft crooning of “Songs for Young Lovers” on vinyl. With little sniffs and gruff grunts, Pammy jogs to the door to greet their guest.

The sun is behind him when she opens the door, casting him golden and glowing as he smiles at her. She smiles back.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he greets, and she’s beset with butterflies walking him into her foyer to meet her dog and breathe her air.

His attention turns almost immediately to Pammy, who’s very eagerly and politely sitting, thumping her tail and waiting to be noticed. Shawn doesn’t disappoint.

He crouches low, holds out his hand and ducks his head a little, looking non-threatening. “Hi. Are you Pammy?”

Pammy walks up for his inspection without answering him. She thoroughly sniffs the hand he offers and when she decides he’s decent enough to let in, she snuggles up against his chest for pets. 

Shawn, having been recognized by Pammy for the puppy he is, lifts his head to look at Penny in triumph. “She likes me!”

“She does,” Penny agrees, flustered and glancing around her foyer like she’s looking for more personal items to clear out, though there wasn’t really anything there when she did a walk-through earlier, just the painting of the Las Vegas Strip in the 50s.

Shawn stands and pleasantly towers over her. His eyes flit to her lips as he smirks. He looks back up at her eyes for permission.

Penny tilts her head up and lets him kiss her, nice and soft and sweet. Probably too sweet. It reminds her of Silver’s words the day before. When he pulls away, she bites her lip.

“The premiere’s tonight?” Penny mutters weakly, walking him into the living room where the record player whirls and the blinds are open to the hills. Shawn gazes around, memorizing. He nods.

“I have to leave here at 4.”

Penny does some mental math. “Guess we better get started.”

She turns on her heel and plants her lips back on his. He catches her, a bit startled, whimpering into the firm set of her mouth. She backs him into the wall and slips her hands beneath his shirt, feeding on the perfect sizzle of his hot skin. He explores her mouth, keeping his hands on either side of her neck until she tells him otherwise. As he starts to run out of breath, he notices her hands are still and her lips aren’t moving against his with the same fervor. His brow puckers. He pulls away slightly.

“You ok?” he pants.

She nods and sucks him back in. Her thumbs work against the dips in his obliques and it makes him dizzy, but he still feels a disconnect. He settles further into the wall and tugs a little at her hair, feeling like a needy kid. She doesn’t react.

“Hey,” he tries again, pulling back more fully this time, “If you’re not into this, we really don’t have to do anything. Seriously.”

“What?” she asks dumbly.

Shawn goes pink. “I mean, we can just hang out. Or… I can go. It’s whatever.”

If she sent him away, he could totally pretend not to be devastated. No problem.

Penny chews the inside of her lip, then tilts her head forward to rest against his chest. “‘S not you.”

Shawn resists his desire to nuzzle his cheek against her hair. Instead, he cups his hands around her upper arms and rubs her softly.

“I’ve been having… a weird couple days.”

Shawn’s brows lift, but she doesn’t elaborate. He nods.

“Do you want to talk?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you… want me to go?”

Her pause before she shakes her head is the longest of his whole godforsaken life.

He feels a little desperate. “What can I do?”

She lifts her head from his chest. She looks worn and maybe a little panicked underneath. It rises in him in response.

“I don’t know,” she sighs.

Shawn absently combs his fingers through the ends of her hair. He looks around.

What helps him feel better when he’s distracted and wigging out a little? She does. Maybe he just has to be ok with the idea that he doesn’t have the same effect on her.

His heart thuds extra hard for a beat in his chest. Maybe he could.

Shawn sweeps his hands up to position his thumbs under her ears, tilting her face up.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” he breathes.

Her expression goes blank. She looks lost. He wets his lips and tries again, like he’s trying on a suit that he’s not sure fits.

He brushes his nose over her brow and hopes his voice is steady when he says, “You wanna be my good girl?”

Penny feels her hands, still resting on his sides, clench hard. The strangled gasp she releases sounds kind of like a moan. She’s suddenly very aware of him, of everything about him -- his light hint of cologne, the tenderness of his lips on her forehead as he smirks, the sheer size and broadness of him in her arms.

“That a yes?”

Words fail her. Her head is whistling like it’s ready to fly off her body. She’s glad he’s holding her up because otherwise her knees would’ve gone weak.

“I’ve… I mean, no one’s ever…”

“I know,” he soothes, surprised by his own confidence, but he supposes he learned it from her, “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go easy on you.”

Penny recognizes the words. She’s probably said them before. Being on the receiving end is different. She thinks if anyone else tried them on for her, she’d laugh and pin them into a corner, reminding them who’s in charge.

But as he holds her, she can feel the way his desire to shoulder her burden is seeping off him. His gaze is steady. If he’s anxious at all about stepping into her shoes, she can’t see it.

Is she really about to do this? Is she ready to strip off all the armor she’s so carefully crafted and made a home of? It doesn’t even feel like armor anymore -- it’s a second skin, as close to her as she’s let anything get.

Her own responding certainty runs so deep it touches her trembling bones. She doesn’t feel like fighting it. She wants this with him, wherever it ends up taking them.

“Please.”

When her eyes drift open again, his are locked on her, virile and hungry and so fucking alive. She swears she could come just by looking at them. They watch her for a moment or two, then drop. He pries her claw-like hands off his body and holds them between his own. He cradles them against his lips, blinking up at her lazily, a single curl falling over his hot gaze.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

His words restart her breath. She nods behind him. He gestures toward the hallway she points down and follows her little steps as she guides him.

Her bedroom is bright, surrounded by windows on three walls in the corner of the house. The ceiling gables to a peak so it feels like a little tower. Her bed takes up most of the space -- it’s enormous with white wrought iron head and footboards and blood red sheets. It’s covered in dog hair -- he bets Pammy usually sleeps there with her.

He grins and spends time unapologetically studying. He can feel the way her eyes track him, waiting for his next move. He finds he enjoys being the cat to her mouse. He wasn’t sure it could feel natural, but he finds he wants to relieve her. This is the best way to do it.

He stops in front of a photo print on her wall, a black and white portrait. It’s a close up. Her hair is wet and slung around her face. She appears to be laughing so hysterically it’s almost a scream. Shawn recognizes it and is sure it came from the shoot she used in her La Splendeur portfolio. He glances over his shoulder at her to see her watching him with her hands folded.

“You’ve really never done this before? Not even before you started escorting?”

Penny shrugs. “No. I mean, I wasn’t always so bossy, but I’ve never been… a sub.”

Shawn turns, smiling. “Something tells me you’ve always been a little bossy.”

Penny’s eyes flash for a moment and he can see the domme in her, the one that will always be there, even when she needs a rest. It shoots a thrill up his spine. He gets to give her what she needs this time.

“I’m gonna take your clothes off now,” he says quietly, waiting for her nod before his fingers skip to the buttons of her shirt. He plucks at them, watching more freckled brown skin come out as he goes. He licks his lips, and then remembers he can taste her whenever the hell he wants. With a little murmur, he ducks his head and sucks on her collarbone right next to her throat. She mewls, tilting her head to accommodate him, dragging her hands up his sides. 

Shawn stops. He bares his teeth against her shoulder. Her eyes fly open.

“Baby, you know the rules. No hands until I tell you.”

Penny’s chest tightens. She drops her grasp on him. From her shoulder, he watches her little hands clench into fists. He scoops her closer and sucks harder, working the rest of her buttons until he can shrug it off her shoulders. It flutters to their feet. Shawn starts in on the button of her boyfriend jeans, securing his lips now to the base of her throat to suck a twin burgundy mark. Penny’s breathing is heavy and erratic. She’s having trouble letting go.

Once he gets her clothes off, she’s left in a set of heathered gray Calvin Klein lingerie. He laughs. She preens a little.

“Did you do this on purpose?”

Penny sweeps her hair off her shoulders and looks down, licking her lips. “I fuck in my Calvins.”

Shawn’s eyes go dark. He shakes his head slowly. “No you don’t, honey. Take ‘em off.”

He steps back, rests his ass against her dresser and hopes his knuckles aren’t visibly white against the antique wood. She sheds the sports bra first, bending to drop it at her feet, letting her breasts swing. She rises slowly, teasing him. He’s enjoying it. She loops her thumbs through the panties at her hips and drags them down. Shawn spots the wetness darkening the crotch and grunts approvingly.

He looks her up and down. She stands tall and confident because that doesn’t come from the domme in her, that’s just Penny. He tilts his head.

“Where’s your necklace, Pen?”

Her easy confidence is rocked. She blinks and looks around. When she can’t find the words around her, she looks back at him, wide-eyed.

“Wanna see you in it when I make you come.”

Penny’s thighs squeeze. Shawn bites his lip.

She goes to her vanity and reaches into the first drawer. The red box is cracked and faded by time, but what’s in it still shines like the day it was made. She locks eyes with him in the mirror while she clasps it around her pretty neck.

Shawn takes slow, quiet steps up behind her, eyes trained on hers until he’s a breath away. He looks down and admires the glimmer from the curve of her neck. Now exposed to her other unmarked side, he slips a hand down to her stomach to anchor her against him. The other delicately traces the path of diamonds along her throat.

“It’s so pretty, huh, Pen?” he rasps.

She nods. “Really pretty.”

He hums and presses his lips against her jugular, feeling his pulse thrum as hers does.

“And who got it for you?” His voice is a muffled growl against her skin.

She closes her eyes. “You did.”

He skims up along her jaw to the corner of her soft mouth. “That’s right, baby.”

His warm hand cups her throat, not applying pressure but just to hold her head back while he kisses her nearly upside down. She’s eager and responsive now, gripping the little chair in front of her vanity but still squirming under his control. The hand on her stomach dips between her legs. She’s nice and wet, but still not as wet as he wants when he takes her.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he grunts into her mouth, swallowing the crooning whine she releases when he works the heel of his hand against her clit. She spreads her legs a little wider, giving her the purchase to work back against his hand for more friction. He clocks her greediness and smiles against her sweet lips, giving her clit a rough smack. She yelps and lets it trail into a moan.

“Getting desperate, sweetheart?”

His voice is all sharp honey. She wants to fucking bathe in it. She whines again weakly and lets her weight fall back against him. He holds her up, locking an arm around her stomach so the hand between her legs can come up to offer to her.

“Have a taste.”

Penny looks down at his glistening fingers. She brings her hand up to cradle his, and he allows it, focusing on her mouth as she sucks his fingers in between her lips.

Penny’s not unfamiliar with the taste. She’s sucked on fingers and toys that are coated in her many times, but never like this, never as it’s being presented to her by a partner. It’s headier and more erotic. She moans low, overwhelmed by it. Shawn’s eyes dim.

“Fuck, you like that? You taste so fucking good, huh?”

She nods eagerly, still swirling her tongue around his fingers one by one. The arm around her holds her fast while he grinds, still fully clothed, against her perfect round ass. She releases his fingers with a filthy slurp and pants at him.

“Can I suck your cock?”

Shawn wants to fall to his knees for her, but resists, given her request. He kisses her hard, nodding, letting her turn in his arms and lead him to the bed. On the way, she shucks him out of his t-shirt and jeans. He’s in gray Calvins, too. She giggles. It makes his cock throb.

He sits on the edge of her bed. She kneels in between his legs, charged by the confident way he shifts a hand into her hair and spreads his knees. His eyes are molten, looking down at her. She cups him through his briefs and sighs.

“Missed your cock.”

Shawn groans, his brow wrinkling. “Show me.”

With one last glance up at him, she pulls him free, tugging his briefs off his ankles to fling away with her own Calvins.

Penny leans in, her hands planted on his powerful quads, her breath short at seeing how he’s already leaking for her. She curls her tongue over the tip of his cock greedily to swipe up his salty precome. He hums.

“Gonna take me nice and deep, honey?”

She’s never heard him talk like this. It makes her lightheaded and whimpery. She nods and kisses a path down the underside of his shaft to his balls. She peppers them with kisses, light and teasing, then follows her trail back up.

She stops with her lips brushing his head. It pulses for her eagerly. She runs her tongue along the ridge, enjoying the way his stomach clenches.

“I want you to fuck my throat,” she whispers, her voice sounding like he’s already done it.

Shawn’s eyes nearly roll back in his head. “Fuck yeah, baby. Shit. Yeah, wanna feel your throat around my cock.”

With his hand still firmly in her hair, she slicks him down first with her tongue, bobbing her head a few times until her nose brushes his abdomen, warming herself up. She pulls back up, catching his eye, nodding without releasing him from her mouth.

It occurs to Shawn as he starts to slowly rock his hips that he’s never actually… done this. He’s had many blowjobs -- the good, the bad and the ugly. Penny has sucked him down several times, each more perfect than the last. But he’s never been asked to treat a woman’s throat like her pussy before. He hears himself whine as he grazes the back of Penny’s throat, only to feel her swallow.

“Shit, that feels… Pen…” he breathes, letting himself pick up a rhythm, planting his feet for leverage. Her hands rub at his inner thighs, coaxing them apart as she scoots forward, eager for more.

He watches in amazement until he realizes he can’t because he’s so fucking close to coming in her pretty mouth and he’d so much rather come in her warm cunt. He eases her back by her hair, watching her slurp at his bright red tip, popping her lips around it in a way that almost makes him thrust back up into her mouth and say screw it.

“So good, honey, shit, fuck, we gotta…” He chuckles at himself, at the way he sounds like he’s really ready to bust. He shakes his head and falls back into her sheets, inhaling deeply.

“We gotta slow down. Not ready to come yet.”

Her sheets smell like lavender fabric softener. She leans her cheek against his inner thigh, sneaking a little kiss.

“Shawn?”

Her voice is softer than he’s ever heard it. He lifts his head to look at her.

Her brown eyes are peering at him from over his thigh. She blinks quickly.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask… you for something?”

His heart squeezes. He nods.

Penny turns her face into his thigh, brushing her nose through the downy hair there.

“Will you spank me? Please?”

Shawn lurches upright, leaning on his hand as he stares down at her.

“Say it again.”

He hears himself give the command but doesn’t remember thinking it.

She folds her hands in her lap. “Please spank me.”

Shawn beams at her, reaching for her hand and yanking her up onto the bed and against his warm, needy body. They both writhe and moan in reaction to the fullest contact they’ve had, skin against skin, desperation mixing. He tastes her desire on her tongue, mixed with his own saltiness. He groans and bites into her lower lip, cupping her firm ass in both hands. She arches into it, fisting the sheets in her hands as she fights her instinct to touch him, to take whatever she needs.

Instead, she lets him give it.

Shawn holds her close and sits up, cradling her in his lap. He spreads tender kisses across her cheeks and chin and mouth, his fingers crawling over his most precious -- her shoulder blades.

He gets her so soft and pliant in his arms he almost decides not to let her go. But she’s squirming and wet and he thinks maybe he’s about to fulfill a long held curiosity and fantasy of hers, and what could be better than getting to do that for someone you love?

Shawn sighs into her hair, tucking it back behind her ear so he can whisper.

“Lie across my lap.”

The responding whimper is so sweet, so charged and eager, Shawn’s hips rut up against her before he can stop them. She’s dripping in his lap and he thinks her spanking is only going to make her wetter. The heady power makes him growl again. His toes curl against her rug.

He helps position Penny across his lap facedown. Her thighs are clamped together, likely to offer her some relief as he traces patterns across her smooth hamstrings. The well-used muscles clench magnificently. Her back arches, offering him her plump, round ass like a fucking Christmas present.

Penny holds herself up proudly, taking the first teasing smacks against her soft flesh with only gentle, approving coos. He distracts her, teasing his fingertips down her thighs and out over her hips. She breathes shakily.

When the first hard spank comes on her left cheek, she yelps. Shawn’s hand holds tight, squeezing to make a mark, keeping the bite in place just like she does when she spanks him.

Suddenly, the pressure is gone. His hand rests limply.

“Penny, what’s your safe word?”

His voice is totally sober and clear. She blinks out of the haze.

“Uh… I don’t… have one.”

His thumb rubs a circle into the palm mark he left. “Can you pick one?”

Penny squints. She can barely remember what day it is, she’s so gone. She glances around the room, looking for inspiration. Her eyes land on her closet.

“Stiletto.”

She can hear Shawn’s smirk. He accedes and goes back to massaging the nice welt he left from his first strike. He leaves another on her other cheek to match. Penny squirms. She knows he can feel her wetness pooling in his lap. She knows that’s why he isn’t afraid to spank her a little harder -- the harder it gets, the more she drips.

Penny lies slack across his lap, weightless, worry-less. The pleasure-pain has her higher than any other substance she’s tried. She feels so fucking free with him, safe and cherished in a way she can’t quite replicate on the other side of a punishment.

There’s an element of awe in a D/s relationship. If it’s right, it’s shared by both parties -- the dominant partner in awe of their submissive’s willingness, their singular desire for whatever the dominant wants to give them; and the submissive in awe of their dominant’s ability to strip them of everything that stresses, aches or bothers, leaving them only to feel what the dominant wants them to feel. Penny thinks she understands both now so fully as she arches her back a little higher and murmurs into the pillow, waiting to see what else he’ll give her.

On the third slap across her left cheek, she cries out and comes off her elbows, letting her cheek rest against her duvet as he rubs her and coos.

“Fuck, such a good girl for me,” Shawn marvels. His erection is trapped between his stomach and her side. She writhes against it, gifting him the same relief he’s giving her.

His hand slips between her thighs. Penny moans, leaning her weight back into it. Shawn slips two fingers inside her, sighing.

“Fucking soaked. Want you nice and ready for my cock.”

Penny’s gurgling mewl would be embarrassing with anyone else. She thinks he likes watching her react when he flicks his wrist a certain way, brushes her g-spot teasingly, or scissors his fingers apart. She gasps and squeaks and moans and whines and cries out when his free hand slaps at one of the livid marks her left on her perky ass. He soaks it all in with an easy smile until she’s panting, desperate.

“Please, I need your cock,” she sobs, pressing her hip up against it again, tempting him. His eyes droop, showing weakness.

Shawn doesn’t see the point in waiting any longer. He’s ready to make her come all over him, to burst inside her in that way that could never be so satisfying with anyone else. He eases his fingers out of her, lavishing them with his tongue while she watches. Her pussy clenches again, waiting for him to fill it.

He helps her off his lap, still smirking, easing her onto her stomach with her head on a pillow. He pauses.

“Pen, do you want a condom?” he asks softly. She shakes her head no, facedown. His cock gives a twitch.

Shawn straddles her, his knees bracketing hers as he lowers himself down against her back, reveling in her sharp inhale when his cock slips between her thighs. They start to rock in time like they planned it, but it’s just them. Shawn moans contentedly against her neck.

“Been so good and sweet for me, Penny. My perfect girl.”

Penny hums in reply. It rumbles through Shawn’s chest where he’s pressed against her.

“Gonna make you feel so good, honey. Wanna make you come so fucking hard for me. Can you do that?”

Penny nods before he’s even finished the question. He grins and kisses a mark he left on her shoulder.

Shawn eases back and positions himself at her entrance, held up just barely by his knees. He takes a breath, closes his eyes, and presses his hips forward.

Shawn remembers the first time she let him in. She reached between her legs, her eyes never leaving his, and guided him in herself, slinging a leg over his shoulder like they did it every day. It was hot and brazen and he came a little embarrassingly fast but she just beamed at him and let him play with her nipples until he fell asleep, only to fuck him harder when he woke up before dawn. It wasn’t intimate, it wasn’t elevating, it was just satisfying.

Shawn turns his face into Penny’s neck. He can feel her pulse and hear her sharp breathing into the pillow as her body adjusts to his. With his weight against her, she’s enclosed by him and still reaches for more, sliding a hand up to clap over his, linking their fingers. Shawn’s hips snap forward once, hard, in response to her instinctively personal gesture. Penny rocks with the motion, gasping wetly into the pillow. 

“Feels good, sweetheart?”

Penny squirms at the pet name, one she’s never heard from him before, it only made an appearance tonight after he donned his dom costume. 

“Good. So… good,” Penny sighs, running her thumb against his. Shawn looks at their fingers and it has him rocking back up against her to start a comfortable rhythm.

She’s cradled beneath him, wet and content, holding his hand, her body gripping his cock like maybe they’re in love but fuck, he’s not gonna say it, he’s definitely not gonna say it because she hasn’t said it and he’s still paying for the privilege of being balls deep inside her, even if it’s the greatest privilege of his life.

So he swings his hips a little faster into the red, welted flesh of her ass and absorbs every moaning breath she gifts him like he’s losing his hearing tomorrow.

Penny is melting. She’s smearing makeup onto her pillow, she’s dripping wetness into her sheets, she’s fucking coming apart. But it’s more than that. She’s never felt like this before. And she’s seen and heard a million women say it. She understood conceptually what they meant, but she never got the glassy awayness in their eyes when they said it. Penny can’t see herself now, and she’s glad she can’t, but she bets her eyes are pretty thoroughly glazed.

Beneath his perfect hips and pressed up against his broad chest, she’s somewhere she never thought she’d be. She’s under, not over, out of control but not powerless. She didn’t think the happy medium could exist in her life, not when she’s spent most of it fighting for as much control as she could gather. Control meant comfort. If it was broken, she could fix it. If she couldn’t, it was on her. But it was a burden she could deal with. She never had help. She didn’t ask for it. She didn’t want it.

But that’s not really true. She’s always had Peter. She’s always had Gus. She’s always had Silver. The man shifting his hips above her to find her g-spot while he sucks on her earlobe and squeezes her fingers is new to the picture but becoming maybe just as important.

Perhaps the things she values most in life are those she can’t control.

She presses her forehead into the pillow. Her chest is caving in with each swing as it bottles up inside her. She shakes her head slightly, wetting her lips. Holding it in.

“Penny, fuck, honey, I’m so close.”

Her release of breath is a sob so sudden and so violent that Shawn’s rhythm falters. He slows, tucking his head over her shoulder to check on her. His eyes are wide. His lips are parted.

“Pen--”

“Mia.”

Shawn’s hips stop altogether. He’s buried so deep neither of them can breathe, but neither of them moves, either.

“What?” he pants.

She turns her face, brushing her nose against his. His eyes fall shut.

“My name is Mia, not Penny. Mia Violetta Bianchi. My name is Mia.”

Mia. Mia. Mia.

The connections snapping in place in Shawn’s brain feel like livewires sparking all over the place. He pants harder into her ear, though he’s stopped moving. 

Mia. Mia. Mia.

He holds her hand tighter and starts stroking harder, feeling her body pulse around his, a hot, wet warning.

Mia. Mia. Mia.

He doesn’t realize until now he’s been saying it out loud. Her name. Her real name.

“Mia,” he breathes, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “Come for me, Mia.”

Her body pops like a bottle of champagne. She goes impossibly tight around him, pulsing erratically, desperately seeking his mouth to cry into as she comes harder than he’s ever fucking seen. He follows blindly, his hips taking off without him. He calls out her name over and over as he releases inside her, like he’s trying to make up for every time he’s said the other name. By the time his most powerful orgasm to date abates, leaving him shaking and ready for collapse against her soft, languid body, he can’t think anything else.

Mia.

+

He feels something’s wrong before he even wakes up. He turns over to find her sitting on the edge of her own bed beside him, staring at him mournfully. She doesn’t appear to have been crying, but she looks close enough.

“Hey,” he whispers, starting to sit up.

Mia turns her head, looking at the floor. The motion makes one of the center diamonds in her necklace catch the light. He’s never wanted to touch her so badly.

“I need to ask you for something.”

He nods. “Anything.”

“I need you to leave me alone for awhile.”

Shawn’s eyes slide shut and he thinks maybe his body is willing him back to sleep so he doesn’t have to face this.

“Ok,” he breathes.

“Just… I need some time. I know if you call I’m supposed to see you, so I’m asking you, please, if you care for me at all, don’t call me. I… don’t know how long. But I need this, Shawn.”

Her sincerity is jarring, as is the tightness with which she’s wrapped up in her terrycloth bathrobe.

“Yeah. Ok. I--”

He was about to say he understood, but he doesn’t. Not really. He bets there’s a lot he doesn’t understand. He drops his gaze.

She stands and looks at him again. “I’ll be in the shower.”

Don’t be here when I come out.

The message is unspoken but clear. In a daze, Shawn dresses and walks out. On his way, he passes a stack of mail on a credenza addressed to Mia Bianchi.

---------

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[seelaa26]

7. Compass

“If I don’t have you with me I’m alone, you know I never know which way to go. I think I need you with me for all-time, when I need new direction for my mind. I’ve got something to confess; I’d keep you in my pocket to use. You’re my only compass. I might get lost without you”

After living alone in Las Vegas for a while, I could safely say that I could already feel at home. Obviously, I missed my family and friends but the new path I was taking, was the right one. So, when Grissom told me at the start of the shift that I was going to handle a new case on my own, I couldn’t believe it. Grissom thought I had learned enough to trust me with something like that. He wanted to see me fly by myself and that kind of trust placed in me, meant a lot. Evidently, I was still an intern, not an official CSI, so everything would be supervised by my colleague on this case, Sara Sidle.

I put the field kit in the trunk and opened it to check that I was missing nothing. Warrick parked his car next to mine and when he got out he came over to greet me with a caress on the back.

-What are you doing?

-Checking the field kit –I answered him with a smile- See something missing?

-Evidence bags, gloves, tape, fingerprint dust, flashlight, magnifying glass.. No, I don’t see anything missing although in the field you really only need three powders; black, magnetic and dragon’s blood.

-I know, but I want to be prepared –I closed the kit with excitement- Grissom wants me to lead this case, with Sara’s supervision but still it’s a big step.

-¡That’s great! –Warrick smiled and gave me a little hug- That means that he’s seeing progress and believes in you. I know that you are going to be with Sara, but if you have any doubt, call me.

-Will do –I smiled back- Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a 402 to attend.

I got in the car and following the GPS directions, I arrived at the scene where Brass and Sara were waiting for me at the entrance. I parked the car, got out and took my field kit and camera from the trunk.

-The place was called Superla Spa, it was a full-service establishment.. –Brass explained while we walked in- Massage tables, salon chairs, mud baths.. The explosion went off a little after three. The fire department was able to respond in four minutes.

-Not that it helped.

 -Place was fully engulfed by the time they arrived. They were just lucky to keep it contained to jus this building –Brass pointed to a man who was leaning out of a corner- The gentleman in the corner there is Pete Baxa. His company owns Superla Spa.

-Hi! Pedro Baxa, Ba-ha, like Baja, California –he introduced himself with a certain sad look- But call me Pete, everyone does.

-You in charge of this place, Pete? –I took the initiative, after Brass and Sara looked at me to do it.

-I’m the CEO of Miel LLC, it’s less impressive than it sounds. The company owns Superla Spa.. what’s left of it.

-We’ll need to know you’re insurance provider.

-We’ll have to notify the claims adjuster when we’ve released the scene –Sara added to my petition.

-Actually.. this is kind of embarrassing, but the policy on this place has lapsed –he bowed his head embarrassed- We sent them a payment, but they said they didn’t get it. Then they wanted us to pay a late fee and raise our premium.

Sara and I exchanged looks.

-I have some things I need to take care of –he took out a card from his wallet and gave it to me- Here’s my card, at least until the next board meeting. You can reach me at my office.

From our position, the first thing we did was examine the two mud baths. In-between the baths there was a smoky part of the wall and with a collection tool I processed it.

-Laura, check this out –Sara pointed at both baths- One mud bath contains a lot more mud than the other.

-That mud is baked solid, but I don’t know the way to examine it, inside and out, without actually breaking it up and compromising potential evidence.

-You know, the other day, Grissom was telling me that we have access to an industrial ultrasound device –Sara nodded- It sounds perfect for this problem, I’ll give him a call.

Meanwhile Sara made the call, I continued examining the scene. I photographed  a rock with a hole in the middle and used the casting. I walked into the kitchen and I found a burnt muffin inside the microwave, if it was on last night, we could have our ignition source. I took a sample from the ceiling because it looked old and it could have asbestos in it and then I took samples of soot from the walls. Finally, I found crimping along the edges of the split gas line; I’d say it was cut. So far, there were signs of arson. Sara went to the lab to grab the ultrasound device and when she came back, Brass was with her.

-Now, we’re living in the future.. –Brass spoke while we installed the device- I’m still waiting for my flying car, but seeing through walls isn’t too shabby. How does it work?

-We turn it on and point the wand at whatever we want to scan –I grabbed the wand and held it above the mud- The sound waves it emits penetrate at different speeds depending on the density of the material. Then, the onboard computer translates that into a picture.

Brass got a call, so he had to be absent, but I started to run the wand across the surface until Sara told me to stop. Then, she turned the onboard computer screen and looked at me with a serious face.

-Does that look like a human body to you?

-It looks like we have a victim after all –I nodded in agreement- I’ll call Doc Robbins for a pickup.

-Just what we needed.. –Brass let out an exhausted exhalation- Seems your case may be crossing into the FBI jurisdiction. Two agents are already waiting for us in my office.

***

Sara handled checking in the evidence we found and taking it to each department for analysis. On the other hand, Brass and I returned to his office to speak with the FBI agents. We were walking down the hall on our way to his office, when Brass stopped me.

-You’ve been biting your nails all the way back –he said directly but kindly- Laura, you need to calm down.

-I know, I know –I breathed out- It’s just that this is the first case I’m in charge of and I didn’t think that I’d have to deal with the FBI.

-Then just ask Grissom or Sara what to do, but if it means something, I think you can pull this off –I raised my head thanks to Brass’s pretty words and smiled at him- You know your stuff and you are ready, just be confident. ¡Oh, and don’t look them straight in the eye!

He said that last sentence to make me laugh and relax before entering the room. He entered first and I followed him inside. Both agents were standing, observing Jim’s various decorations hanging on the wall. The first agent I saw was in his 50s, with white hair and gray eyes. He wore a black suit with a tie and matching shoes. 

The second agent was younger, dark brown hair and blue eyes. His beard had a reddish hue. He didn’t dress like his partner; he was wearing a plain black shirt, a black bomber jacket and black jeans. I have to admit it, he was very attractive.

-Captain Brass, pleasure to meet you –the first agent held out his hand- Special Agent Huntby, this is my partner Special Agent Hayes. I presume you’re the CSI in charge of the investigation.

-Correct –I replied back as I shook the hand of both agents- Laura Serrano. How can we help you?

-It’s our understanding that there’s been a fire at the Superla Spa directed by Pedro Baxa –Agent Hayes spoke, noting his Irish accent- Is our information correct?

-Yes, we are looking at him for a possible arson and homicide.

-Is that right? –The two agents exchanged worried looks- Let me explain why we’re here.. Are you familiar with La Reina de la Colmena? Unfortunately, as a member of the law enforcement you should be. In Spanish, it means..

-“The Queen of the Hive” –I finished the sentence for Agent Huntby- I’m Spanish.

-It’s the alias for a woman named Beatriz Salazar, now the most dangerous drug lord in Mexico –he continued- We believe Pete Baxa was in her employ.

-So, is this the part when you tell us to back off and let you do your job? -Brass asked, which caused the smile of the two agents.

-No, not at all, we want you to get your man. We want you to get him so bad, he’ll have no choice but to cut a deal. You see, in the entire universe of La Reina de la Colmena’s drug trafficking operation, Baxa’s just a satellite.

-A small time money launderer through those little shops of his. But, for some reason, we have him on wiretaps in direct communication with Salazar –Agent Hayes explained- The ‘taps themselves are useless because Baxa and Salazar communicate in code, but if we can bring him down, then we have our best shot yet at taking down The Queen of the Hive herself.

-I don’t need more convincing, I’m on board –I nodded, wanting to help as much as possible, since it was the right thing to do- The thing is that I can’t get ahead of evidence and if it indicates that Pete Baxa had nothing to do with what happened, I will have nothing to pressure him with.

-We understand. We are just requesting the opportunity to keep tabs on you for a while and run this one as a joint jurisdiction.

-No problem –I smiled at them, and then I got a message from Dr. Robbins- Looks like the autopsy from the burnt victim is completed.  

-Do you mind if I join you? –Agent Hayes asked me, and with those blue piercing eyes and that sexy Irish, how could I say no?

-Not at all.

I left Brass’s office with Agent Hayes by my side. Not knowing what to talk about, since I didn’t want to give me away as a rookie in front of him, I silently made my way to the morgue. Then he spoke.

-So, Laura, how come is that a rookie is in charge of an investigation?

-It is that obvious, huh? –I smiled sheepishly, looking at him momentarily- What gave me away?

-While you were talking you stiffened your fingers and interlaced them, even for a moment you moved your hands back and forth –he explained with a certain vain attitude- What I haven’t managed to figure out yet is if you are nervous about the situation or because of the devilishly handsome FBI agent that is walking next to you?

I frowned and narrowed my eyes to understand what he had just said. Leaving aside the immense self-esteem he had, he made me smile.

-Well, you’ll have to crack that code by yourself.

I pushed open the door to the autopsy room and headed straight for Dr. Robbins. I made the introductions between both strangers and we began with the results from the autopsy on the victim.

-Do we know who is she?

-Well, the bikini probably left no room for imagination nor an I.D, but I did collect her fingerprints and DNA. Her name is Portia Weismann.

-Cause of death?

-Take a look at the third degrees burns on your victim’s hands and face –As he said, I approached the body and observed them- You can probably tell that they were above the surface of the mud during the initial explosion. In addition to the burns on her skin, he suffered thermal injury to her upper airway.

-She inhaled a substantial amount of smoke and hot gasses from the fire.

-That’s right; carboxyhemoglobin levels in her blood exceeded seventy-three percent so the cause of death was suffocation due to carbon monoxide poisoning.

-In a fire that intense, carbon monoxide levels would spike rapidly –Agent Hayes added to the explanation- She probably fell unconscious pretty quick.

-Time of death is going to be difficult to determine –Robbins continued- Even without the fire, the initial temperature of the mud bath complicates my ability to offer an accurate estimate. Although, I was able to extract samples of the vitreous humor from both eyes, potassium accumulation in the tissue indicates time of death between three and four.

-That’s consistent with when the fire started. Anything else we should know?

-Your victim had advanced mesothelioma; it’s a type of cancer that attacks the lining of the vital organs. It’s thought to be caused, most often, by exposure to asbestos.

-You know.. the whole ceiling from the crime scene might be coated with asbestos.. I took a sample to analyze it –I remembered- Maybe our victim set the fire, revenge and suicide all in one.

-Doctor, did she know she had cancer? –Hayes asked.

-I ran an expanded tox screen and she hadn’t been taking any cancer medications and I didn’t find any tissue damage from possible radiation treatments. I did, however, find evidence of a persistent use of cannabis.

-Well, now the idea that “weed cures cancer” is spreading far and wide.

-Thanks, Doc.

***

When we left the autopsy room and went upstairs again to enter the Lab, Sara crossed our path with papers in her hand. She was surprised to see someone unknown next to me, but as soon as she saw the badge and remembered what Brass said about the FBI, she introduced herself.

-So, I’ve analyzed the soot samples you took from the spa and they are mostly carbon but there were traces of acetone in all samples.

-Acetone? –I asked while I grabbed the paper- That’s an anomaly. Acetone is sometimes used as an accelerant. What about the chemicals from the ceiling?

-Calcium sulfate and asbestos –she answered while she showed me the paper with the results- That explains why the ceiling didn’t burn.

-We just came from the autopsy, and the victim had a type of cancer that is caused by exposure to asbestos –Hayes added himself to the conversation.

-So we’ve got a gas leak that looks to be the result of tampering.. –I thought out loud trying to put the puzzle pieces together- Throw a muffin in the toaster oven at 450 degrees then just leave it in there without setting the timer.

-Sounds like a recipe for arson.

We went straight to Brass’s office, where we told him and Agent Huntby what we knew so far. Brass consulted the victim’s name and it turned out that Portia Weismann worked at the Spa. As expected, Brass called our prime suspect,  who agreed coming to the police station and answer a few more questions. While I was waiting for Pete to get to the police station, I thought it was going to be my first interrogation that I was going to do and I started feeling nervous.

-It’s your first interrogation, I presume.

-Oh my god, can you stop doing that? –I asked annoyed- Stop analyzing me.

-I can’t love; it’s my job and if I’m not wrong.. it’s also yours.

The word love came out of his mouth gently and directly. His attitude was charming and intoxicating. He had facility to communicate, all he had to do was be interesting and get his Irish accent noted to get what he wanted. That attitude was surely the reason he was an FBI agent. He could easily convince someone of anything. What led me to think that he was a player.

-Look Laura, in the interrogation room you have the upper hand. You know the cards you’re dealing with, you just have to play them –Hayes got up from the chair he was sitting in and approached me with a tender look- Avoid overly harsh questions and look at the body language. Remember you are in control of the mental state of the person being questioned.

-But what if I screw it up? –I asked uneasily- Or if I forget to ask something important for the case? Or if I say something that I shouldn’t?

-You are not going to be alone; your partner is going to be there with you. If you miss something, which I don’t think you will, she’s going to bring it up. So, don’t worry about that, the important thing is that you get the experience.

He took a step and slowly placed his hands on my shoulders. Due to his proximity, I breathed slowly, which managed to lower my heart rate. He realized that and smiled sideways while his eyes were connected to mine. The front door opened and Pete Baxa entered through it.

-Do you want a good luck kiss? –he said in a funny way, but I couldn’t say if he had meant it or not.

I smiled at the comment but I didn’t answer, instead I entered the interrogation room with Sara, Brass and Pete. Jim had already told Pete that the victim was Portia Weismann, which saved us time. My main strategy was to be nice.

-Did Portia have any reason to start the fire? Had she mentioned any kind of health problems?

-No, nothing like that. Why?

-She had mesothelioma, a type of cancer cause by asbestos –I explained- The ceiling of the spa is coated with asbestos-laced paint.

-Really? I.. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. You really think Portia got cancer from working at the spa? Uh.. she never said anything to me about it.

-Was there anything unusual about Ms. Weismann’s recent behavior? Did she ever seem unusually angry or depressed?

-Well, we weren’t exactly close, but I got the feeling she was in a troubled relationship. I think he hit her. Portia always seemed to like showing off her body, I even had to ask her once to wear more than just her bikini to work! But one week, a while back, she wore long sleeved shirts every day.

-What do you know about Portia’s boyfriend?

-Portia was a very private person; I know almost nothing about her boyfriend.

-Could you give us Ms. Weismann’s address?

-Oh, yes. I know where she lived, let me write it down for you –Brass gave him a paper and a pen- So, I hate to ask, but is everything you need from me right now? I may have some errands to run, but I’ll be in the barber shop if you need me. The address is in the business card I gave you.

When we got to Portia’s apartment, we found that the entrance door was busted. Brass and a couple of officers entered to check that no one was inside. Luckily, it was a Code 4; under control. Once everything was clear, Sara and I started to examine the scene. The first evidence we found it was a shoe print at the entrance step, we took a picture and a sample. Using a casting on the broken door handle, we got the markings from the tool used. Sara found in the drawer under the oven a lot of pads of financial records showing that the Superla Spa did a little business. We found some broken beads with a black hair entangled between them.

-Hey, I ran a background on Brian Reid, the victim’s boyfriend –Brass approached us with his phone in hand- Turns out that, up until last week, he was a captain with the Las Vegas Fire Department. His Chief told me that Reid had a mixed service record; multiple commendations for bravery, but the guy was also on probation for insubordination. Well, when Reid failed a random drug test last week for the use of cannabis, they fired him.

-This reminds me.. The notorious serial arsonist John Leonard Orr.. was both a fire captain and an arson investigator –Sara added.

We returned to the Lab with all the evidence found at Portia’s apartment, we registered them and began to examine them. Sara wanted to analyze the markings from the tool used to bust open the door while I took care of the black hair and the sample from the shoe print. I gave the hair to Greg and headed straight to the trace lab.

-Hey! I didn’t know you were back –Hayes greeted as he walked in the room.

-Yes, it was pretty fast.. –I nodded while I waited for the results to arrive- Where were you? Let me guess, talking about X-Files!

-No, we do that on Wednesdays –he laughed at the joke and sat next to me- Actually, my partner and I couldn’t sit still doing nothing, so we brought you a gift.

-Diamond ring, diamond ring.. –I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers.

-It’s in the interrogation room –he answered with a smile.

-At least tell me it’s Brian Reid.

Hayes nodded. We stayed silent, looking at each other with dumb smiles as we waited for the results. Suddenly, I remembered I didn’t know his name.

-Now that I’m thinking about it.. you haven’t told me your name.

-Killian.

-Killian Hayes.. –I repeated his name- That sounds more like a pirate, not a Special Agent.

-Maybe in another life I was –he answered surprised, then he grabbed the bottom of the chair and pulled me closer- I do certainly know how to keep precious things close to me.

I couldn’t see me but I was turning red as fuck. I wasn’t used to deal with men who knew how to flirt. I heard the printer making its sound; the results were ready but I couldn’t care less. In that moment I wasn’t in the Lab, I was imagining Killian’s lips on mine. Suddenly, he moved forward, coming dangerously close to me, and when he was ten centimeters from my face, he took the paper from the printer and returned to his place.

-Feldspar, clinopyroxine and acetone –he read out loud.

-The minerals are found in volcanic ash, which is what they use to make mud for the baths –I explained when I came back into my senses.

-So that means that the person who was at Portia’s apartment, was also at the Spa –I nodded in agreement- And acetone was the accelerant used at the Spa.

Nick entered the Lab, catching us smiling at each other, but when our eyes met, he tried to turn around but I stopped him. I got up from the chair and approached him.

-You don’t need to go, we were just leaving.

Nick nodded with a strange smile. Awkward. Uncomfortable.

-Special Agent Hayes –he introduced himself and shook hands with Nick.

-Nick Stokes, CSI –Nick looked at me uneasily- I’ve heard that your case crossed jurisdictions with the FBI, but I didn’t expect to see an agent working with a CSI. Normally, you tend to take us off the case and ignore us.

-That’s not me, mate –Killian replied with a defensive tone- Laura can assure you, all my eyes are on the case.

Nick cleared his throat and after looking askance at me he nodded. We left the Lab to let him work and we went to look for Sara to see how she was doing or if she needed any help.

-The markings from the door match a Denver Tool, is a multi-purpose tool used by firefighters and emergency personnel. It is a combination axe, sledgehammer, pry tool, ram and D-handle pull tool –Sara explained.

-Guys, I think it’s time we talk to Brian Reid.

[cravingmarvel]

American Money: Chapter Four - Getaway Car

Paring: Bucky Barnes AU x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Shit’s going down, blood, police violence

Summary: Going on a road trip with your best friend Bucky to Lake Erie  ended quicker than you thought it would. The car crash turned yours and Bucky’s life around from living in Manhattan, to staying at different motels every night and running from the police.

“How did this happen?” A question only two people can answer. And one of them is dead.

A/N: Here we areee! I’m sorry it took so long, but I feel like right now I’m on a roll with writing so I just had to get another chapter done. Thank you to anyone who is still reading this series and thank you for waiting :(

Masterlist // Chapter Three

Chapter Four - Getaway Car

 I awoke to the soft melody of a song playing on the radio, Bucky humming along, a little out of tune. My eyes got used to the sun shining brighter than I would like it and I looked out of the window, the sun standing high, the morning already passed. Outside nothing but boring sand and coloured stone could be seen for miles, not a single cloud lingered in the sky, only blue for miles.

Turning my head, I saw Bucky, one hand on the steering wheel, the other lazily draped out the window. Bucky’s hair was flowing free from the wind blowing through the rolled down window. His beard started to get longer than just a five o’ clock shadow.

“How long did I sleep for?”

He turned his head to my direction shortly and smiled, concentrating on the road again (even though there wasn’t much to concentrate on). “Long enough. We’re almost in Page.”

My jaw dropped. “What! I slept for nine hours?”

Bucky erupted into laughter. “Yes! I stopped a few times and expected you to wake up, but you wouldn’t.”

I closed my mouth, shocked at my long slumber. The last few days must’ve really worn me down considering the circumstances. Life back in New York wasn’t as versatile, the only time I felt tired enough to sleep more than six hours was after my workout class, but that’s it.

“How long until we’re there?” I asked once I gained my composure back.

“About thirty minutes. I looked up a motel we can stay in. It even has a bar.” Bucky smiled smugly at me.

I just shook my head, smiling. A drink could be the perfect way to drown some of the stress away. Although I’ve never been much of a drinker, after the incident at the store, I was happy to have some alcohol.

As the road went on and on, the greener it got. The small wooded area sat strangely between all the canyons and flat sand patches. It was nice to see some trees after the unbearable sun kept shining on our car. Even with all the windows down, it was too hot, so some trees promised for a little shadow.

We arrived at the motel, which was nicer than the others we stayed in, probably because we can afford it now, due to the money we stole. The whole building was made of wooden planks, stained a dark brown. It was situated in between the little wooded area and perfect to hide in for the night. The three stories promised for a look over the trees, to the main road so we could observe anyone driving by. Although that doesn’t seem to be that interesting, after all, we didn’t come across anyone for miles.

The narrow street opened up to a big parking area and only two men sat on the bench outside next to the door, smoking a cigar.

Upon walking in, the choice of style from the outside caries through to the inside. The interior mostly made out od wood, plaid curtains and chandeliers made of metal gave the lobby a nice Bavarian feel. Under different circumstances, I would’ve loved to stay here a few days. Walk around the motel, wander through the forest and search through the canyons for adventures unknown to me. But right now, all Bucky and I can do, is hide in our room.

Bucky checked in at the front desk while I kept a lookout for anyone glancing for a little too long, but the process was quick and we were on your way, up the creaking stairs to the third floor.

Along the walls there were pictures, most of them in black and white, of different people. Some appeared to be guides, some I wondered to be previous owners.

Our room was no different from the rest of the motel. A bed made of wood, plaid curtains and a chandelier made of metal. The small bathroom gave little to no room for relaxation as a tiny shower was the only way to get clean. I was hoping for a bathtub, but when you’re a criminal, you have to deal with what you’ve got.

We unpacked the few things we had, and it became apparent that a washing machine wouldn’t be such a bad idea. The attire I had taken with me wasn’t supposed to last so long without a wash and whilst packing I didn’t know Bucky and I would be taking a detour to Los Angeles.

I let myself fall onto the bed, relishing in the softness of it. This was definitely much better than what we were used to. Bucky fell down next to me on the bed. For a few minutes we just laid there, before we stared laughing.

“This is crazy.” Bucky said.

“Yeah, who would’ve known that we would end up here?” I turned my head to look at him. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow we’re aiming for Las Vegas and then straight to Los Angeles to meet with Sam. I already told him about our situation, he’s meeting us at the Freehand Hotel.”

“How do you know Sam?” I said, Bucky turned his head to look at me.

“Old friends.”

I looked back up to the ceiling. I didn’t want to ask any further questions. I’ll get my answers once I meet this Sam. If he even exists. But that’s crazy.

“Y/n, let’s go to the bar!” Bucky jumped up from the bed and held his hand out for me to take.

I followed Bucky downstairs, through the lobby and into the bar. We sat down in one of the booths a little further away from the other people.

Not that there was a mass amount of people, but enough to make me nervous. Bucky went over to the bartender ordering a glass of Lambrusco for me and a Negroni for himself.

He came back with our drinks and sat down beside me. “Here-“ he handed me the glass. “- I don’t know how you can drink cold red wine with fizz.”

“And I don’t know how you can drink a Negroni of all things.” I said, scrunching my nose.

We laughed together as the sun started to sink behind the trees, the bar filling with music on a low volume. I looked back to Bucky, who was staring straight ahead. The sun casting a halo around him and I didn’t know if it was the alcohol from my third glass of wine, or just me, but thoughts about him started to pop up in my head. Thoughts I’ve never had, like the way I loved his hair hanging down to his shoulders, or the blue of his eyes.

“Whatcha looking at?” Bucky said softly, catching me off guard.

I quickly turned my head away from him, adverting my gaze to my hand on the stem of my glass. I knew my cheeks were burning bright red and I had nothing to say to him.

I felt two fingers on my chin, lifting my head, turning my face to him. Bucky draped his arm around my shoulder, while his other stayed on my chin. My mouth agape, he inched closer, never breaking eye contact.

He closed the distance between us, moving his lips on mine, his hand straying away from my chin to my cheek, keeping my head in place. My mind was fuzzy, and I was ready to melt into a puddle before him.

Bucky pulled away with a smile and I exhaled deeply. Did this just really happen? Bucky, my best friend for years and I just kissed.

“Hey, are you ok? Do you want to go to the room?”

I shook my head, pushing his hand away from my cheek I stood stumbling not only over my words but also my feet. This was wrong, this whole situation was so wrong. How could I let this happen?

I muttered an apology and left Bucky sitting in the booth.

I sprinted back up the creaking stairs, stumbling into the room. Sitting down on the bed next to the nightstand, next to me, the bag of money.

“This is messed up.” I got up, grabbed the bag and car keys.

I ran out of the motel and walked to the phonebooth next to the motel.

“Hello this is-“

“Bucky Barnes is staying in the motel in Page Arizona, Blue Bird Motel. The man who killed the guy in Sheffield.”

I hung up without saying anything else. They will know.

I sat in the Cadillac and put the bag on the passenger seat. Breathing became much more difficult and I focussed on the street ahead of me.

I looked into the review mirror and saw Bucky standing, looking out of the window of our room. Next, I heard the sirens and drove off.

I saw Bucky running out as soon as police cars started to flood in.

I heard the sirens behind me and someone yelling my name. It’s Bucky. I knew he felt betrayed and that’s what I did; I betrayed him. Jumping slightly as I heard a gunshot being fired, a shiver ran down my spine.

The tears in my eyes blurred my vision terribly, rolling down my cheeks like they’ve done for the past three hours. My eyes fixed on the dark road in front of me, the trees disappearing beside me. Only the moon and the bag of money accompanying me on my journey. I didn’t want to look, but my eyes flickered up to the review mirror of the Cadillac.

There he is, lying on the floor. Blood and dirt coating his messy brown hair. The ringing in my ears tuned out the sirens, but I could clearly see the blurry red and blue lights through my tears.

And I screamed, I yelled out to no one. Hitting the steering wheel, adverting my gaze back on the road.

As the road went on and on, the tears stopped. My mind was blank, dazed from the mess that happened. The sun started to rise on the horizon, and I lit a cigarette, keeping my mind occupied with the smoke to calm my nerves.

I knew where I needed to go, the plan set in my mind.

Get to Los Angeles and meet with Sam. Whoever that is.

 ***

Fin!

Please like, reblog and leave a comment while you’re here!

[holidaywishes]

i think i might love you

   Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: can you do something with t segs about him being best friends with a small shy nerdy, not your typical blonde hair bombshell type girl and him realizing he’s in love with her💗          

  Warning: fluff, maybe some swearing

  masterlist

  “Why are you so awful at this?!” you yelled to Tyler while the two of you played NHL 19, “isn’t this like your thing?”

  “No, actually, it’s not!” he laughed, “they’re very different things. I’m not on the ice!”

  “Whatever, you still suck”

  “Maybe I’m just letting you win...”

  “Yeah right!” you scoffed as you scored another goal before celebrating, “HA! BOOM! I win. I always win! What do I get this time?”

  “Who said you get anything?” he said as he got up to walk into the kitchen

  “We made a bet, sourpuss,” you followed Tyler into the kitchen, “so...?”

  “I’ll pay for your dinner” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically

  “Wow, what a treat” you teased and pushed him out of the way so you could grab a glass from his cabinet.

  “You’re damn right it’s a treat” he returned

  “How about something a little more... out of the ordinary...” Tyler gave you a confused glare and you waited in silence for him to say something, “it’s not like you’ve never paid for my dinner before. If all I get for beating your ass is a lousy dinner than I’m gonna have to stop wasting my time around here”

  “What is it you want then?” he asked curiously

  “Hmm.. well there’s a world of possibilities Seguin,” you mused, “how about... helicopter tour? concert in Vegas? introduce me to Captain America?”

  “I met Chris Evans once, we’re not exactly buddy buddy...”

  “Call in a favour”

  “Sorry can’t do that”

  “Okay.. well.. I don’t know.. OH WAIT! Take me to a Pens game!”

  “A Pens game? why?”

  “Uhm to watch them win... duh”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be cheering for me? and my team?”

  “Yeah sure.. only when you’re playing. But I grew up watching Pittsburgh,” you pouted and whined in your best baby voice, “please, Ty...”

  “Ugh fine,” he groaned, “grab the schedule”

  “YES!” you yelled, running to your bag to grab the pocket season schedule your Mom got you in October, “okay so there’s one this weekend it looks like... and it’s perfect because you’re not playing!”

  “You know I still have practice though...” he laughed and you smiled

  “Not this day you don’t!”

  “Fine. I guess I’ll see you in Pittsburgh”

  “See you in Pittsburgh!” you hopped past him back toward the couch, a big grin still plastered on your face. You pushed your oversized, butterfly shaped glasses up the bridge of your nose before grabbing the controller and continuing the play as Tyler sat down next yo you; you could feel his gaze on you, so you chirped him, “take a picture, it’ll last longer”

  “You’re really using that gem?”

  “You’re really gonna sit there and pretend like you’re not staring at me?”

  “I wasn’t staring...”

  “Mhm..” you hummed before pausing the game, “what?”

  “What do you mean?” he said, dumbfounded, “I wasn’t staring... I just.. I don’t get it...”

  “Oh god.. what does that mean?”

  “Why did you go to school in New York?” he said, gesturing to your Columbia sweatshirt, “I mean why couldn’t you just stay in Toronto...?”

  “Uhm, maybe because I got a scholarship to one of the top ranked Universities in the world, you ass,” you teased, “and it’s New York City. I wasn’t going to pass that up”

  “But I never saw you”

  “That has nothing to do with Columbia. That has to do with you and Boston and then Dallas. Don’t blame it on me...”

  “I’m not blaming,” he defended, “I’m just saying. Before Boston, we did everything together and then we just kinda... didn’t”

  “We still got together Ty...” you brought your legs up onto the couch, “look, I’m here now. We’re hanging out... we’re going to a hockey game on Saturday. We’re still friends, do you not think we’re friends anymore?”

  “What? no of course not! Don’t panic,” he tried, “I just kinda miss you sometimes...”

  “Awww!” you cooed, pushing his shoulder teasingly, “I miss you too, Tyler.” You leaned in to give him a tight hug because it seemed like he needed it, but you needed it just as much as he did; you pulled him a little closer and caught the scent on his hair, breathing it in before you pulled away slowly. Your eyes caught his for just a second and you tried to hide the way your breathing increased by moving back on the couch -- further away from Tyler, when you heard him call for the dogs.

  “Marsh, Cash, Gerry,” he whistled, “where are you guys?” With that the three labs came rushing to the couch, jumping up instantly and licking your faces frantically.

  “My god, you’d think they hadn’t seen us in weeks...” you laughed and tried to move your face away from the dogs. Catching Tyler staring at you one last time before you cleared you throat and focused your eyes back on the brightly lit screen.

Tyler’s P.O.V

  Why did she seem so new to you? You had known her for so long and she had always just been... (Y/N)... So why was she suddenly making you nervous? You watched her as the dogs licked her face before she trained her eyes on the screen. She caught your eyes once but whipped back to the T.V. and didn’t look at you for the majority of the night until she finally got up to go to bed.

  “So you’re gonna sleep on the couch yeah?” she smiled at you and you felt a small wave of heat flood your cheeks

  “What? why would I do that?”

  “Because I’m taking your bed. It’s the comfiest in the house so...”

  “Ahh no,” you laughed, “who said you could take my bed?”

  “Me!” she giggled as you stood up, noticing her prepare to run to your room

  “I don’t think so” you approached her slowly, eyes narrowing

  “Tyler...”

  “(Y/N)...” she stood in front of you, playing with the hem of her Columbia sweatshirt, watching how you moved to decide what her next step would be. When you lunged forward to grab her, she dodged your hand and let out a squeal; something you normally would find annoying but for some reason, you thought it was adorable. You smiled and continued to chase her through your house, letting her run ahead of you to let her think she had the upper hand before you made two large strides and wrapped your arm around her stomach and carried her through the hallway.

  “See, your problem is that you get too cocky” you laughed

  “TYLER!” she yelled, squirming under your grip, her glasses falling to the floor, “let me go!” You didn’t listen, instead you carried her to the guest room and threw her onto the mattress abruptly, staring at her briefly before walking out of the room. When you came back she had a confused look on her face which you attributed to the fact that she probably couldn’t see, so you walked over to the bed and slid her glasses on her face

  “I think you dropped these...” you said lowly as her brilliant (Y/E/C) eyes hypnotized you as they danced between yours

  “You mean you knocked them off me” she finally said before sitting up to adjust her position.

  “Well I should let you get some sleep...” you muttered before she could speak, leaving her mouth to gape as you walked away

  “Okay...” she whispered, confusion clearly present in her voice. You started to walk to your bedroom, shaking your head to clear out whatever had just happened but it was still there; you leaned up against the wall and took a second to look back at everything but all you saw was her. All you heard was her. All you smelled was her. Now, all you wanted was her.

  What the hell was that? You thought to yourself. It couldn’t have just been you that noticed the weirdness. This wasn’t unusual for you and Ty, to play wrestle like this but there was something different tonight. Some kind of tension that had never been there before and it freaked you out; you couldn’t help think that something was wrong. Sitting against the pillows for 20 minutes contemplating what it all meant only made it worse, so you decided to confront him about it.

  “Tyler...?” you whispered to him after opening his door but he didn’t answer, “Ty, you awake?” When he still didn’t answer, you sighed and closed the door before heading back to the guest room. When you woke up the next morning, you prepared yourself for just as awkward of a situation as last night but you were thankful when everything seemed to be back to normal

  “Morning sleepy head!” Tyler greeted as you came into the kitchen

  “Morning dork” you teased, before lifting your arms above your head in a big stretch

  “So, I thought we’d go meet Chubbs for lunch” he said as you sat down at the kitchen table

  “Sounds good to me..” you said, still half-asleep, “hey, can we talk about last night?”

  “Hmm? What about last night?” he asked, his back to you

  “Ty, can you just come here,” you said, “sit down and talk to me...” He turned around and slowly walked toward you, sitting down in front of you.

  “What’s up?”

  “What happened last night? Why were you acting so strange?”

  “I wasn’t acting strange...” he shrugged, “I don’t know what you mean. We were doing what we always do...”

  “Yeah but something was... different,” you tried, “wasn’t it?”

  “I don’t think so...” You could tell that he wasn’t going to address it, whatever it was, so you ended the conversation and went on with the morning; running a few errands before you and Tyler left to meet Jamie for lunch. It felt like it had been ages since you had seen Jamie and you were excited to hear what was going on with him and whether or not he’d fallen in love yet. But the ride to the restaurant took much longer than you anticipated, and it was almost completely silent, making you irritated by the time you got there. You looked over at Tyler a few times, waiting for him to say or do something but he just stared out the windshield at the road in silence.

  “Okay,” you finally said to break the silence, “what the fuck is going on?!”

  “What?” he questioned

  “Tyler, why are you not talking to me? Or teasing me? Or singing to dumb rap songs on the radio to drive me insane? Why are we just sitting in uncomfortable silence?”

  “I didn’t know it was an uncomfortable silence...”

  “Tyler!!”

  “What? It’s not like you said anything either!”

  “Fair but still. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing...”

  “You’re lying to me!!” you yelled, a small laugh on the statement

  “No I’m not. Nothing is wrong. I promise. Look we’re here...”

  “This isn’t over, Seguin,” you said pointing your finger at him before getting out of the car, following him with your eyes as he walked in front of the car to meet you at the sidewalk, “not by a long shot...”

Tyler’s P.O.V.

  “Hey Jamie!!” (Y/N) greeted when she saw him, wrapping her arms around his waist to give him a tight squeeze

  “There she is! The short little one I like so much!” he teased, hugging her close

  “Hey bud” you greeted him with a nod and a quick high five, noticing (Y/N) roll her eyes

  “Ty...” Jamie joked in a serious tone, “alright so what’s going on with you (Y/N)?”

  “Nothing really.. school’s good. Work’s... a lot. I’ve got this week to do absolutely nothing which is why I’m here...” (Y/N) said, her laugh ringing through the air, finding its way into your ear like a song you wanted to play on repeat

  “Sounds like you came here at the perfect time” Jamie smiled at her

  “She’s also forcing me to go to a Pens game this weekend...” you added, raising your eyebrows

  “We’re playing the Pens like next week...” Jamie asked confused

  “Ah yes, but you’re not this weekend. In fact you’re not playing at all...” (Y/N) answered

  “It’s one game, I figured I’d let her have it,” you joked, “better to let her win than argue about something like this...” You and Jamie laughed while (Y/N) scrunched her nose at the two of you. The rest of lunch went by about the way that you figured it would, nothing out of the ordinary, until (Y/N) left the table and Jamie started asking questions

  “What’s going on here?” he started

  “We’re having lunch, Chubbs...” you joked

  “I mean with you and (Y/N). I see the way you’re looking at her. The way you blush whenever she laughs, the way you scoot closer to her forcing your arms to touch. I saw you watch her get up... and walk away...”

  “Stop it”

  “Seggy come on, tell me”

  “Nothing is happening. Nothing is going on. She’s still (Y/N), we’re still friends. Best Friends,” you emphasized, “but --”

  “But...” Jamie said with a big grin on his face, leaving you to roll your eyes at him

  “But maybe there’s something there. At least on my end. She doesn’t feel that way...”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “So I can embarrass myself? Or get rejected and lose my friendship? No thanks”

  “Oh please,” he huffed, “you’re not gonna get rejected. If I know anything, it’s that that girl has been in love with you for as long as you’ve known each other but you’ve been too busy with the Blondes of Dallas to pay attention”

  “She’s not in love with me...” you whispered, defeated, “and she’s blonde too”

  “She’s not Texas Blonde. She’s Girl-Next-Door Blonde,” he started and you gave him a confused look before he could continue, “her hair is like spun gold. The Texas Blondes are bottled and bleached. And yes, she is in love with you, if you’d taken a second to pay attention...”

  “Chubbs... be serious okay. Maybe you’re like projecting or whatever. Maybe you’re in love with her and that’s why you’re talking about her hair that’s ‘spun like gold’” you teased just as (Y/N) came back to the table and you tried to switch the conversation, “I think I’m right... and you’re very very wrong”

  “Oooh what’s Tyler wrong about?” (Y/N) chimed in, making Jamie laugh

  “HEY! I said I was right and he was wrong”

  “Yes, which means that he’s probably right and you’re definitely wrong”

  “She was obviously listening to our conversation because she knows” Jamie said knowingly, tilting his glass to her

  “She’s wrong. You’re wrong” you said to the both of them

  “I’m bored,” (Y/N) said abruptly, “let’s go find something to do. Head to Main Street or Bishop...? Or go see a movie. I can’t sit at this table all day, Ty, I need to do... something. Jamie?”

  “I can’t, sorry kid,” he replied and she tilted her head at him, “I gotta go meet Katie...”

  “Fine. Tell her I say hi...” she said, standing up to give Jamie a hug goodbye

  “Will do” he said, wrapping her in a tight hug and nodding to you; trying to get you to admit your feelings and you rolled your eyes

  “Okay, into the car we go” you joked

  “What? No let’s just walk. Where are you planning to take me?” she laughed

  “I thought we were going to Bishop?”

  “Yeah, which isn’t far. We can just walk,” she glanced up at you, “or are you getting lazy?”

  “Fine, we’ll walk,” you agreed, scowling at her once before saying goodbye to Jamie, “later Chubbs”

  “Tell her” he whispered to you when (Y/N) was out of earshot and you shot him a glare. When you turned the corner, you saw her waiting for you and you saw what Jamie was talking about. The sun hit (Y/N) in such a way that her hair looked like a halo around her, making her glow as her long strands fell across her shoulder. Her porcelain skin shimmering in the light and the smile that she gave you when she finally saw you only seemed to make everything brighter.

  “Took you long enough” she teased, bringing you back to her

  “Nah nah nah, you ran out of the restaurant, I wasn’t slow”

  “Whatever, slowpoke, let’s go...” She turned to walk away, the fabric of her skirt effortlessly dancing in the wind and you ran toward her, draping your arm over her shoulder when you reached her, “well look who just got a sudden burst of energy!” She giggled, looking up at you and your knees went weak, making you take your arm away from her.

  “So, what are we doing?” you cleared your throat and looked ahead, “playing some kind of game?”

  “What?” she said, still looking up at you, confusion covering her features

  “You know, like normal,” you replied, “are we pretending to be injured to see who will help us? Pretending that we’re being chased by the cops to freak some people out? Pretending to be a couple, desperately in love, on their way to a chapel on the other side of the city?“ You laughed awkwardly at your last words, looking down at her and seeing her eyes grow wide before she looked ahead of her

  “Uhm,” she hesitated, “I don’t know.. what do you think?”

  “We haven’t done the couple thing in a while...” you said, putting your hands in your pockets as you continued to walk

  “That’s true but it’s always a little more entertaining to run from the cops”

  “Yeah but it’s not really believable...”

  “Neither is us being a couple,” she said under her breath and you stopped walking, “Ty?”

  “Why isn’t it believable?”

  “What?”

  “Us being a couple. Why isn’t it believable?”

  “Because it’s not...” she moved toward you, “I’m not really your type and people notice that”

  “How do they know what my type is?!”

  “Why are you getting so upset? It’s just a game,” she said defensively, “and a game only we know we’re playing...”

  “It doesn’t have to be a game...” you whispered, rubbing your neck sheepishly as you tried to avoid her gaze; knowing that her eyes would ruin any anger bumbling inside of you

  “What does that mean?” she said gently, lifting her hand to rest it on your forearm and you finally looked at her; heartbeat in your ears, breathing uncontrolled and everything in you telling you just to kiss her

  “Do you want it to mean something?” was all you said, forcing her to step back and no words escaped her lips, the two of you standing across from each other in silence.

  You had no idea what to do now. He had been back and forth between normal and odd since last night and now this. Do you want it to mean something? No. Maybe. Why would it even mean something? You weren’t the girl he wanted, you were just something available and your friendship with him was more important than what his lips would feel like against yours. You stood in front of him, eyes trained on his, and waited for him to say something, to clear up his question, but he never did, so you turned on your heels and darted up the pathway.

  “(Y/N)... Wait!” he called after you and you tried to escape him, your cheeks still flustered while your mind raced, “Stop!” You turned sharply, making him run into you

  “OW..” the two of you said at the same time as you rubbed your head

  “What are you doing?” you asked, raising your voice unintentionally

  “You’re the one who stopped!”

  “Not that,” you sighed, “why are you messing with my head?”

  “Messing with your head? I’m not..”

  “You are! What am I supposed to say to ‘do you want it to mean something?’ what am I supposed to think is happening when you’re fine one second and the next you won’t look at me?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Then why can’t you just act like you?!”

  “(Y/N)...”

  “What Tyler?”

  “Maybe I want us to be more than friends...”

  “No you don’t...” You looked at him as a million thoughts ran through your head. You met Tyler when you were five years old and were immediately charmed by him. The way he smiled, the way his eyes were like honey in the sunlight, the way he could make you laugh at absolutely everything. As you got older, you realized your feelings were more romantic than his probably were and, by the time you were 13, you were hopelessly in love with him. While he worked to become the Hockey Superstar that the world knew, you worked toward Columbia University because you knew that the only way to escape your feelings was to get away from him for a bit. It didn’t matter though. You were still there for his first NHL game in Boston surrounded by his family. Your heart still fluttered every time he smiled -- at you or anyone else. But he was always with someone. Some girl who looked nothing like you, but exactly like the rest, and you realized that you’d never be the girl he wanted. He’d never see you the way you wanted him to. So, you tried to let him go but he never let you go too far. When you realized you had been standing in front of him without saying a word for too long, you tried to mutter something to express how you were feeling, “I don’t...”

  “You don’t want us to be more than friends?” he repeated

  “I never said that...”

  “What do you want then?”

  “I want us to be friends... like we always have,” you answered, “I don’t want to ruin that or lose it Tyler. I’m not this Blonde Bombshell type that’s all over Dallas. Sooner or later, you’d realize that and move on; friendships don’t survive that, T”

  “That wouldn’t happen...”

  “You don’t know that”

  “No, actually I do,” he said suddenly, leaving you standing there speechless for a while, waiting for him to continue, “I know what would happen. I know how our relationship would be. I would wake up to the smell of your coconut conditioner and watch as you slowly opened your eyes, looking up at me and smiling that smile that makes me melt. We’d walk through Uptown Dallas and Downtown Dallas and we’d become everyone’s favourite couple because even the smallest kisses between us would show everyone how we feel for each other. I would protect you from ever being in pain, you’d comfort me when I needed it after a loss. I can picture us, holding hands and walking through this park, mocking each other like we always do. I can see us in Paris or Greece or Vegas, sharing kisses at all your favourite spots. I can see you walking the stage when you graduate Columbia with me hollering for you from the stands. I can see you doing the same during the playoffs. I can see all of this. Our friendship wouldn’t change, it would be the same...”

  “Tyler, that’s...” you tried to think of the words that would save your heart, “that sounds so amazing. But it doesn’t sound like us. We’re not a couple. We’ve never been a couple. We’re jus--”

  “I think I’m in love with you” he blurted out, interrupting you and making the people around you stare.

  “You’re what?”

  “I think I might love you, that I might be in love with you...”

  “No..”

  “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t wait until the next moment I get to see you again. Your voice is permanently ingrained in my mind and your smile is the best part of my day. I don’t know who I’d be without you and I don’t want to find out because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you,” Your eyes danced between his as your mouth gaped open; you had no words. This was all you had wanted for so long but it felt like a dream and you were having a hard time believing it, “can you say something?”

  “I.. I’ve been in love with you from the second I met you...” you noticed a smile creep on his face, but your eyebrows had unfurrowed, “I don’t want to get hurt, Tyler.” He stepped close to you, almost completely closing the gap between the two of you as onlookers stayed to see how it would end

  “The last thing I want to do is hurt you” he said, sweeping his thumb across your cheek

  “You promise?”

  “I’ll bet the season on it,” he smiled, continuing to close the gap and you smiled back up at him, “there it is. The best part of my day.” He smiled and pulled you up to capture your lips in a kiss you’d never forget as the crowd of people around you began to applaud and cheer, leaving you to blush at the sudden realization that you were kissing in public.

  “Maybe we should do this somewhere else” you whispered

  “Maybe you’re right” he agreed, swinging his arm over your shoulder and kissing the top of your head as the two of you went on your way.

[danrifics]

Not The First Time

Some of the times Dan almost asks Phil to marry him and the one time he actually does.

Read on AO3

2019 - Las Vegas

Phil stretches his arm out over the bed, disappointment falls across him when he realises the space where Dan had been sleeping previously was empty. He reaches to the bedside table and grabs his glasses. The blurry room becomes crystal clear, the Vegas hotel room was dark but outside the casino lights presented a gentle glow around the edge of the room. The balcony door was open, a cool breeze blowing through. Phil climbed out of bed and headed for the open door. Dan stood, leaning against the glass railing, looking out over the city.

“Is everything okay?” Phil asked

 Dan turned around sightly to look at Phil, he smiled and stretched out his hand. Phil took it and stepped closer to the railing.

“Do you remember when we came here for my 21st birthday?” Dan asked, ignoring Phil’s question.

“Not really” They both laugh “well… actually I do remember you drunkenly asking me to marry you”

They look at each other for a moment, they remember it well…

2012 - Las Vegas

They’re not sure how they made it back to the hotel room, they’re also not sure how much they’ve had to drink. Dan has the vlogging camera out and he’s filming himself raiding the mini bar. 

“They’ve got Vodka, I need coke though” Dan gets up and almost falls back down but once he’s semi-stable he looks around the room for any sign of a mixer for his drink. He looks into the camera for a moment. “When you can’t find coke you just gotta drink vodka straight” 

“You can’t do anything straight” Phil shouts from behind him.

Dan looks into the camera and then turns to look at Phil.

“Neither can you” Dan says, his voice is a mix of endearment but also a hint of annoyance “gonna have to delete this video now, thanks”

He turns the camera off and puts it down, he then grabs the vodka and drinks it from the bottle. Phil takes it from him and puts it down on the bedside cabinet before he heads out onto the balcony. Dan follows. 

They stand in the middle of the balcony. Dan pulls Phil towards him, resting their foreheads together. They stand like that for a while before Dan finally speaks.

“We should get married” He says, he’s drunk but he’s serious and Phil can tell “we should get married... here... tomorrow”

“We’d have to tell everyone”

“No. we don’t have to tell anyone” Dan says bluntly.

“Dan… we can’t get married and not tell anyone” Phil says.

He wants nothing more than to say yes, he wants to marry Dan, more than anything, they’re… soulmates… Phil has never met anyone like Dan, his smart. Beautiful. Honest. Dan, he knows at this moment in time they can’t get married. Dan still doesn’t want people to know he’s gay, he’s not ready for his family to know and he’s not ready for the world to know. If they got married it would be public, Phil’s never cared about who knows about his sexuality but for Dan’s sake he’s always kept it hidden.

Dan moves away from Phil and leans against the balcony railing. He looks out over the city. Phil sighs and moves to stand next to Dan. Dan turns slightly so he has his back to Phil.

“Dan look at me, please” Phil puts a hand on Dan’s shoulder but is met with a shrug “I love you but you’re not ready for this y-”

“I am ready. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my whole life. And look I know it’s technically a civil partnership but we can do it now and then when they legalise same sex marriage we can have a proper wedding with all our family and friends.” 

Phil pulls Dan in close to him, he places a gentle kiss to his lips and leans their foreheads back together. Dan sighs, he knows they can’t get married yet and maybe he is just too drunk to think and in the morning he’ll realise how dumb all of this is. He loves Phil and Phil loves him, they don’t need to be married to show that.

2019 - Las Vegas

“It wasn’t the only time that I've thought about it” Dan says, he smiles. “Y’know marrying you.”

He takes Phil’s hand. Phil wonders if he’s going to ask him now, just how he had all those years ago, on a balcony just like this. They’re ready now. If Dan asks, he knows what he’ll say.

“I wanted to ask you in 2014, after they legalised same-sex marriage in the UK, but i didnt” Dan looks down at the ground “and then i almost asked you in 2015 when we went to Japan and last year during the tour”

There’s a sad look in Dan’s eyes. The thought of all his failed attempts and harsh words in his head telling him he shouldn’t weighed him down. There were so many times he could have asked...

2014 - London

Dan sits in the usual place on the sofa, his laptop on his lap, a cup of coffee on the arm rest. Phil’s in his bedroom (well his bedroom set) filming a video. Dan’s not sure what it’s about but he knows when it comes to editing Phil will make him watch it and give opinions. Dan’s scrolling through tumblr when he sees it:

GUYS!!! The UK just legalised same-sex marriage!!

Congrats to all the gays in the uk who can get married now!

Gay Marriage has become legal in the UK glad to see more countries getting with the times!

Dan immediately turns on the TV to BBC News, there’s a reporter talking about how historic this is for the country.

“Phil come here!” Dan shouts

“I’m trying to film, Dan!” He shouts back

“I don’t care! Come here!” Dan’s attention is still on the TV

Phil comes into the room, Dan doesn’t look at him. He just points towards the TV. Phil doesn’t say a word, he just sits down next to Dan, a huge smile on his face. The reporter is talking to a couple now, they’re saying how they were getting married in a few weeks and it was likely they would be the first gay couple to get married, not a civil partnership but actually married! They were going to have the same rights as a straight couple. Dan looks over at Phil finally, his eyes are glued to the TV. 

Dan wants to get up right now, and ask Phil the question, he’s been thinking about it for a while now, but knowing they could actually get married in a legal sense, he wants that. He can’t do it now though. He wants to do it properly, he wants to ask Kath and Nigel for their permission, he needs to get a ring, he… he needs to come out. He needs to come to terms with being… gay. It’s a word that he hates, he hates describing himself as that, he doesn’t want to be that and asking Phil to marry him… That’s pretty gay… so he pushes the thought of marriage out of his mind, again. He hates that he feels this way. He loves Phil and he doesn’t understand why his brain says it’s okay to be with Phil but it’s not okay to say he’s gay? He tells himself it’s different, Phil is his best friend, but it’s more than that. He doesn’t even think the term ‘romantically involved’ fits what he and Phil are. They’re Dan and Phil, soulmates, companions, partners for life. What he and Phil have, it’s special, it’s real, it’s just them. They don’t need to be married to be committed to each other, and they don’t need to world to know what they are either.

He tells himself they don’t need to get married over and over again, that he doesn’t want that… he’s lying.

2015 - Tokyo

Yesterday was all about filming their day in the life video but today Dan had other plans. Phil was in the shower and Dan was looking through his own suitcase, he pulls out a roll of socks and unravels them to reveal a box, he looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s alone and then opens the box up. He looks at the ring inside. He’d bought it a few weeks ago in London, hid it in so many different places and then somehow managed to get it to another country without Phil finding it. Dan had told Phil they were going to a park called Koishikawa Korakuen so he could take photos. It was a  beautiful place and the perfect place to propose, he’d seen all these pictures of the beautiful gardens on instagram and he knew that this was the place, Japan was such a special place for the both of them and he knew how perfect it would be if they were to get engaged here. The shower turns off and Dan shoves the box into his jacket pocket. He thinks he’s ready this time.

*

The park is beautiful and Dan now has to decide where he wants to actually do the proposal, he’s not even sure what he wants to say yet. They walk around for an hour just taking photos and talking and then Dan sees the perfect spot, it’s a small stone path surrounded by trees and a pond. Dan takes a deep breath.

“Lets go over here” Dan says already walking ahead of Phil.

Phil follows until they stop in the middle of the path, they’re facing each other. Dan looks into Phil’s eyes, he loves Phil’s eyes, they’re a  beautiful shade of Blue mixed with green and yellow, the best eyes i’ve ever seen.

“Phil I-” 

“Oh my God!” A voice squeals from behind them “Dan and Phil!?”

Dan turns around, he wants to be annoyed but the voice belongs to a young fan who obviously has no idea she’s ruining a big moment. She looks around 15, from her accent he assumes she’s American.

“It’s really you, oh my God, I watch all your videos like all the time, i love you guys!” 

Phil steps forward, he has a huge smile. Dan’s confused for a moment and then remembers Phil has no idea a moment was ruined either. Phil starts talking to the girl. Dan puts his hand in his pocket and holds the ring box. This is a sign, he knows it. It’s another thing getting in the way of his happiness. He should be used to it by now, but it really fucking hurts. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to do this. He should just return the ring and forget this ever happened before…Phil’s voice snaps him away from his thoughts

“Dan, you have the longest arm you take the selfie” He says.

Dan smiles and takes the girls phone, he hopes he doesn’t look like he’s faking it. He’s not in the mood to read comments pointing out his face when the girl inevitably posts the photo all over social media.

Dan knows there’s still time this trip to propose, but now all he can think of is how if that fan had come a few moments later she would have seen the proposal and then it would be everywhere, he realises once again that he’s not ready for the world to know. He’s having a panic attack now but Phil is still talking to the fan. 

“Phil?” Dan asks catching Phil’s attention “Remember we’re meeting some friends in 20 minutes”

It’s a lie, but he can’t stand here any longer, he doesn’t want the fan to think he’s an asshole so lying is easier than just leaving. Phil understands what Dan means, whenever either of them think they’re having some kind of anxiety attack in public they always use the same excuse, like a code.

“Oh, you’re busy, of course. I’m sorry for bothering you” The girl is too cheerful, thankfully she doesn’t realise they’re trying to get rid of her.

*

Dan returns the ring a few days after they get home. The lady in the store asks why. He could lie and say it didn’t fit but he doesn’t.

“It wasn’t the right time” He sighs “not sure it ever will be.”

The lady gives him a sad look and that she’s sorry that it didn’t work out. 

Dan cries in the Taxi back to their apartment, He’s sorry too.

2018 - London

Dan sits in bed. He stares intently at his laptop screen. it’s 3am, Phil is asleep next to him, he’s facing away from Dan. 

You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer!

He reads the last lines in his word document over and over, everything is suddenly feeling like it’s falling into place. It took him 27 years to get to a point of acceptance, a place where he’s finally comfortable being queer… Gay. He’s gay. He remembers how over the last few years he’s become more comfortable with his sexuality, he stopped trying to hide as much and he knows the audience picked up on it. He scrolls back to the top of his script, he wants to get up now and film it and put it out but he knows he can’t right now, but this time it’s not because he’s scared. He and Phil are about to start a huge tour. Coming out is going to change everything but they can’t have any distractions now. The tour is big and important, this can wait.

Phil turns over, Dan looks over at him as his eyes open.

“You’re still awake?” He mumbles

“I finished it” Dan says, turning the screen slightly “over 25 pages”

Phil sits up and grabs his glasses from the bedside table.

 “Can i read it?” He asks leaning his head against Dan’s shoulder.

“Not the whole thing, there’s one part I want you to hear though” Dan turns his head, his eyes meeting Phil’s. “If you don’t want me to say it, I'll take it out

Dan scrolls about half way through, Phil sees his name written within a paragraph.Dan begins to read.

“Obviously we were more than friends, but it was more than just romantic. This is someone who genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child I actually felt safe” Dan pauses to look at Phil, he doesn’t read the next part off the screen, he tells Phil from memory “We are real best friends. Companions through life. Actual soulmates.”

Phil doesn’t say anything, he places his hand gently on Dan’s cheek and kisses him softly. Dan knows this is Phil’s way of saying yes, he can include this in the video. Dan puts his laptop down.

“I love you, so much, Phil”

“I love you, Dan, so so much”

They fall asleep wrapped up in each other, with smiles on their faces. Dan’s ready now. Next time he asks Phil to marry him, he knows he’s actually going to go through with it.

2019 - Las Vegas

Dan takes a deep breath. It’s now or never, he knows that. He’s thought about this moment for almost 7 years now. He doesn’t have a ring or a plan but he knows that right now on this balcony is where he’s going to ask Phil to marry him.

“I’ve wanted to ask you this for like, 7 years” He begins “but every time I tried to ask I chickened out because I wasn’t ready to admit who I really was. Over the last 2 years I’ve started to feel more comfortable with other people knowing about me, i’ve always been comfortable around you, but other people knowing has always been a huge deal. Um…”

Dan wipes a tear away from his eye. He looks Phil in the eyes. Phil is smiling at him.

“You are the love of my life” He continues “and now that everything's out in the open and we don’t have to hide anymore, I know I’m finally ready for this, there’s no voice in the back of my head telling me no. So…”

Dan gets down on one knee and takes Phil’s hands.

“Phil Lester” He takes a deep breath “Will you marry me?”

He sees the tears in Phil’s eyes. Phil nods.

“Of course I will, Dan”

Dan jumps up and pulls Phil into a tight hug. They kiss for a while before Dan pulls away, laughing.

“This is ridiculous, we just got engaged on a balcony in Vegas while in our pajamas, I don’t even have ring for you”

Phil starts to laugh too. “This is perfect, this is the most us proposal you could have ever done, we can go out in the afternoon and get a ring”

“Or… we could go out in the afternoon and just get married?” 

“We could.”

*

4:00PM Thurs 18 Jul

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danielhowell has shared a post

It’s a photo of 2 hands, one belonging to Dan and the other Phil. They have wedding bands on their fingers. The caption reads: AcTuAl SoULmATeS @ AmazingPhil

4:05PM Thurs 18 Jul

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It’s a 2 photos, the first being a poor quality screenshot from the first Phil is not on fire, the second photo is of Phil kissing Dan on the cheek, Dan is holding his hand up to show off the wedding ring on his finger.

-

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Of Dust and Ashes (Chapter 3)

Eventual Clint x ofc, overall rating: M

Chapter warnings: None (yes- you did read that right.)

Welcome back to the pain fest. This week... I promise not to make you cry too much. Thank @winterisakiller​ for somehow not killing me yet and instead offering all the love and support needed to get through this dark fic. And thank @tnystrk-exe​ for the always present encouragement to ‘King it up’.  I swear, one day, Deanna and Clint will be in the same place. But for now, it’s very much Deanna’s story of how she survived long enough to get there. 

The RV featured in this story is an actual model. I spent a day touring lots in Vegas as part of research for this fic and talking to salesmen who may have mistaken me for a ‘proper author’. If you want to check it out- it’s a 2019 Forest River Sunseeker 3010DS by Ford and I honest to god want one. The one I toured did indeed have the solar power package. Google can get ya a floor plan and pictures, if you’d like

Chapter 3: Planning to survive

~~~~~~~<3

Deanna was thankful for the full tank of gas when she left the small ranch house that she had planned to call her home for many years to come in her small car. Still, she quickly realized as she slowly navigated a city that was in worse condition than she expected that the car wasn’t going to be big enough for her to survive more than a handful of days in it. It wouldn’t be able to haul enough stuff, store enough and she would so often have to rely on what supplies she can find at the time of needing them.

It was toward the outer edge of the city that she drove by the solution to her problem. It was too perfect, really. On one side of the highway was a motor home dealership and just a few large lots before it she had drove by a Costco. Looking around, the area seemed to be peaceful enough in the mid afternoon sun. So many people where moving into the inner city, hoping and waiting for the promised assistance from the National Guard.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she turned sharply right and held on tightly as she forced her small sedan over the curb and around the edge of the ditch to avoid an accident that blocked the road. It occurred to her after the car teetered for a moment, threatening to slide into the ditch that she could have just turned farther ahead on the next street. The fact that she had acted recklessly scared her but there was no time for that now.

Luckily, the car didn’t roll. Unluckily, it did get stuck and Deanna was forced to abandon it. Logically, she knew she could go back for everything. Yet that didn’t stop her from loading up Frankie’s blanket and Aurora’s stuffed fox doll into the bottom of a backpack where they would be safest. On top she tossed a handful of bottles of water and a few cans of food. In the front pocket she stuffed aspirin, acetaminophen and ibuprofen as well as a collection of bandages. In her hand, she clutched the crowbar that she hoped would be more useful than the baseball bat should she need to break into anything.

It was almost too heavy for her and reluctantly she had to pull out a few cans of food and two water bottles to leave behind when she nearly toppled into the ditch. Crossing the street, the wind gusted and blew her dark hair around her. Pushing her hair back, she looked up and down the street yet again and found it just as empty as it was when she got out of the car.

Still, there was the always present sense of unease. Looking up, she watched the sun through the hazy sky. It’d been just over a week since The Decimation and the dusty haze in the sky hadn’t only just begun to let up. A good rain would do the sky good but she couldn’t stomach the thought of what would be falling with the water. It would be more than just ash from fires.

Around her, the world felt empty. In truth, it was. Half of the people were gone. More, if you think about it. She couldn’t bear to think about it. The population of stray dogs seemed to have been cut in half as well. She wondered what else was included in the decimation.

A shake of her head brought her back to the task at hand. She most definitely didn’t want to stay out in the open and exposed. Though the signs of violence in the area was less apparent, she still could spot the occasional broken window and that filled her with unease.

She thought about touring the vehicles on the lot and picking one but decided it was better to see if she could even find the keys first. It wouldn’t matter if she found what seemed to be the perfect RV, made for her and not terrifying to drive if she couldn’t find the keys. It was more important to know what she had access to first.

Trying the door, she found it unlocked and slipped inside. Just as she turned and locked the door behind her, there was a crash and a rather unmanly scream. In return she screamed reflexively as she whipped around and raised the crow bar. Their eyes locked and for a moment they just watched each other while they evaluated the threat each posed to the other.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He spoke softly, slowly lowering the pipe he had clutched in his hands. His brown hair was messy but he was clean unlike a few of the people she had seen on the side of the road. “This is… was my dad’s shop.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either.” She answered. “My car is stuck.”

“Do you want to get it free or…?” He trailed off. “Where are you going.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” The crowbar hung limply from her arm as she relaxed. At least for now it appeared they both were going to behave like civil human beings. It wasn’t something she dared count on in the first instant of meeting but things looked promising.

“How are things in the city?” The man asked as he ran his fingers through his short dark hair. He looked to be rather young, all things considered. In the world before, he would be right about the age to be well into his college education but with far enough to go still that graduation seemed to be a dream.

“My kids’ teachers broke into my house and tried to steal food.”

“That bad?”

“I don’t even live that far from here.” Admitting it hurt.

“They’re telling people to go into the cities for help.” He pulled his thin lip between his teeth and crumpled into a chair in the lobby. “Is there even help?”

“Not that I’ve seen.” Sitting next to him, she introduced herself and learned his name was Lewis. For a few minutes they simply sat in silence.

She almost didn’t hear him when he did speak. “We need to get out of the city. It’s safer where fewer people are.”

“We?”

“I mean, if you want. People are stealing and it’s not going to be safe in the cities for much longer at all and we’re safer together than alone. The RVs- they all have functioning kitchens, bathrooms, beds and locking doors.”

“I-”

“Unless you’re an idiot at least some of those things crossed your mind when you came here and not to the tow yard down the way when your car got stuck.” He laughed and it sounded brittle.

“You’re right. I wasn’t even sure if I was going to take one, if I could even find the keys let alone drive any of them.”

“They’re a lot easier to drive now and without highways full of rush hour traffic it’s probably going to be fine. Keep the tanks full, store food and supplies- Who knows what the world’s going to be like and for how long?”

“What about gas? If all the gas stations are closed-”

“I can teach you. We have a fueling station out back- it was more convenient that way. Just a few months ago- Dad was so proud of them- We got these new Sunseeker models in with built in Solar hookups. Set them up wanting to charge an extra markup for it being ready to go.”

“Maybe we should just wait here-”

“I don’t want to go alone but I will. I’m not staying here. But I’m scared.” Tears welled in his eyes and Deanna saw him in that instant not as a man something like ten years younger than her but as a boy still learning how to be a man in a world that’s gone crazy. “Please, come with? At least for a bit?”

It quickly became clear that he needed her and the feeling of being needed was grounding. One of the Motorhomes had a generator running and while Lewis told her of his grand plans, Deanna fixed them a proper chicken dinner in a tiny kitchen. All those years she had made fun of those who had doomsday plans and here she was, thankful for a kid’s general idea.

“Is this one of the ones we’ll take?” She asked as she set a plate down in front of him.

“No, no. This one’s older. It was Dad’s. Better to take a newer one.”

“So when do we leave? What do we take?”

“Tomorrow evening. We’ll leave early and hit up a few places for supplies on the way. The Costco hasn’t had much activity the whole week- It’s been locked down tight and has back up power running. No one seemed to be inside when I checked out the area a few days ago. Load up everything we can. If we can get some trailers and stick some sheds on it- even more space.”

After a proper meal- the first one Deanna had since the power went out not too long ago, she felt oddly better. She could think. She could plan. Most of all, she could learn and so that’s what she did. Lewis was eager to show her the vehicles he had planned on taking.

They were large, each 35 feet long or so he said. It was clear his father must have been a good salesman who taught his son well as Lewis told her about the tank capacities, the solar panels that could provide almost enough electricity to power the home on a typical day before opening the side door and showing her inside.

It wasn’t bad though the lack of space would take getting used to. The simple reality was that it was much better than the little sedan she was driving. Above the cab was a bunk that Lewis suggested storing some weapons in. A curtain could be drawn across the space making a private sleeping as designed but also a dark place to hide should she need. Storing a gun in the area would allow her to defend herself should someone get curious enough to attempt to break in. She hated how she had to agree, it was a benefit. Hanging from the edge of the bunk was a curtain that could be pulled across to separate the space.

The living space was combined with the kitchen and dining area. Lewis showed off the tv and the built in DVD player. Deanna was more excited than she wanted to admit to see a microwave in addition to the small three burner gas stove and oven. The refrigerator in this model was still small but was a two door fridge with a freezer. The sink was double sided and she felt dumb for how that made her emotional. Deanna always liked double sided sinks.

On the far side of the length of the body was a short couch next to a U shaped dinette. Above it all was a row of small cabinets with small LED lights that shone down. The windows were large and shatterproof or so Lewis said. Each had both a pull down curtain and hanging curtains that would give privacy and darkness. The dinette benches all lifted to reveal more storage space and the table lowered to a point. The back rests fit perfectly on the table to make what was designed to be another sleeping space should one need it.

Lewis pointed out that the slide-out portions were extended and that when they were put in the walkway would be very narrow but told her not to worry about that. There was a control panel that would move the sections in and out with the touch of a button. When the electric was not functioning, he assured her that there was a hand crank she could use to move them if she wanted. It wouldn’t be easy but they were both coming to terms with the fact that the world after the decimation wouldn’t be easy.

There was a short hall with a door on either side that lead to a small bedroom. Carefully, she pushed down on the plush mattress to find memory foam. It was nicer than her bed back home had been. The queen size bed was bare but she didn’t find herself bothered. Across from it was a wall of cabinets with a small TV mounted toward the top of the built in wardrobe. When the portion was pushed in the foot of the bed would brush against the wardrobe door. The base of the bed frame had built in drawers.

When she turned and got her little sedan stuck, the idea of taking a motorhome was a vague concept. Now as she stood in a place designed for maximized secure storage, she couldn’t begin to imagine leaving the city without one.

The evening was spent learning how to power on the generator, fill and empty the water tanks and change the propane tanks. Lewis showed her how to use a manual water pump to fill the gas tank from the large underground tanks and how to use different pump to fill the water tanks from areas of standing water.

As night fell, Deanna unloaded her car with Lewis’ help and divided what supplies they had between the two vehicles. Water bottles were stored under the dinette benches, medicine stored in bathroom cabinets and cans of food settled in largely empty kitchen cabinets before Deanna curled up on the soft mattress with Frankie’s blanket wrapped around her and Aurora’s fox clutched to her chest.

Morning came quickly and Deanna was up before dawn making them a breakfast before the day begun. When knocking sounded on the door, a scream was torn from her chest.

“It’s just me Deanna.” Lewis called sheepishly, poking his head into the doorway.

~~~~~<3

After eating, they carefully made their way toward Costco as the sun began to lighten the horizon. Lewis wanted to do what they could under the cover of darkness while they were still in the city. The RVs lumbered carefully down the road as she got used to driving the large vehicle.

It took longer than they wanted to pry open the back doors of the Costco. The generator keeping power to the building sputtered and fell dead as they worked, forcing them to enter the building with flashlights as their only source of light. Still, Deanna was thankful that the generator had lasted for as long as it had.

Feeling perhaps cockily sure that no one else was around, they made their way toward the front, grabbing large flat carts and set to work gathering supplies independently of one another.

Deanna first went through the frozen and cold sections. For a while she thought about grabbing arm fulls of cans of consecrated juice before settling on just two cans. The refrigerator and freezer space was limited and she would much rather use it for meat. She grabbed beef and chicken before moving onto the dairy sections. A gallon of milk and boxes of butter were added along with a box of sixty eggs.

From the produce section she grabbed lettuces, berries, apples, oranges, grapes, bananas and sacks of potatoes before going back and grabbing carrots and celery.

For a moment she had to stop and rest. The world seemed to close in around her and she had to focus on breathing. The task at hand needed to be completed. Later, tonight she could have her breakdown, scream and cry. One step in front of the other.

Deanna pushed her cart forward and added cans of vegetables and fruits. She added boxes filled with trail mix and handfuls and handfuls of jerky packets. Cans of chicken and fish found their way into a box set on top of cases of water.

She grabbed a gallon jug of water and twisted the top off, drinking it as she pushed the cart back outside. Carefully, she loaded water under the dinette benches. What didn’t fit was put in an outside storage compartment. She filled some of the cabinets with cans of food before filling the refrigerator and freezer, noting how much space was left. Deanna set a can of frozen juice on the counter to thaw.

This time when she went inside she locked the store she locked up her new home behind her. Bags of rice and beans were wrestled onto the cart. Flour and boxes of yeast packets went next. Brown and white sugar was added to the stack with baking soda and powder. Before moving on she added a box with a fancy spice rack. She didn’t care about the rack itself however it came with the spices, making it an easy choice. She grabbed boxes and boxes of salt and pepper, remembering how historically cultures had gone to war over salt.

After unloading the cart for the second time she again went inside, trailing not far behind Lewis who was munching from a bag of potato chips as he added a snack foods and candy to his cart. For all he had thought and planned, it was clear that he still wasn’t always thinking everything through. Still, the world they knew was over and so if he wanted to eat gummy fruit snacks who was she to judge him? Deanna snagged herself a bag to snack on herself while she walked. Why not? The world as she knew it was over so she may as well enjoy some candy.

From the pharmacy she grabbed bottles and bottles of pain killers and multivitamins, bandages and first aid supplies. Not too far away, Lewis forced open the door to the back pharmacy. Deanna was quick to go to his side and together they loaded up bottles of antibiotics. Lewis gathered more and more different medications but she didn’t want any part of that. He may want to risk using things he didn’t understand based on guesswork but she wouldn’t put her life on the line for that. The antibiotics were important however, infection was dangerous and could be deadly.

The cart was heavy and her arms and back ached as she pushed it toward the center of the store. She grabbed what clothes she could. A display of pillows provided her somewhere to rest her head at night as she grabbed two. A plush blanket was better than nothing and so she added the ugly green thing to her cart as well.

She grabbed a set pots and pans before standing in front of a wall of boxes of dishes. It felt weird, wrong even to be contemplating dish sets. When her eyes settled on a brand she loved for the way they didn’t break if Frankie dropped them.

Again she had to close her eyes and focus on anything else but the way his eyes got wide when the plate would clatter to the ground. His father would yell and scream over dropped dishes. For a long while she simply counted up from one until the tears stopped and her breathing evened out. She hadn’t made it even to fifty before she had calmed herself again.

Grabbing a box she tossed it on the pile of stuff. Looking around one last time, she hoped to find more kitchen supplies but it seemed their luck was running low. In reality, she could probably grab such things at a Walmart later if she wanted. Surely that wouldn’t be stolen nearly as fast as food. Or at least, she hoped.

Regardless, she’d been inside far longer than she wanted and she was starting to get jumpy. Through the skylights high on the ceiling, she could see morning light growing stronger seemingly by the minute.

“Ready?” She called to Lewis who was picking through clothes.

“Almost. Go load up, I’ll be right behind you.”

~~~~~<3

Deanna loaded the large bulk bags of rice, flour and sugar into the locking exterior compartment with the extra water before setting about unboxing the pots, pans, dishes and spice rack while she waited for Lewis. Later, she planned on getting containers for the bulk items to prevent waste and allow her to bring what she needs into the home as needed. Lewis too much less time loading his things up and before heading off with the plan to stop at a sports store on the way out of town.

That one plan would prove to be the greatest mistake of Deanna’s first month post Decimation.

~~~~~<3

Tag List: 

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[nightingiall]

little do you know, chapter 18; i love you

Fact: “The brain treats rejection like physical pain.”

previous chapters + drabbles

Mona was running on autopilot.

She was awake but wasn’t thinking of anything, simply going through the motions of her morning routine.

They were back in New York. As soon as they had landed, she felt the bitter taste of reality flood her mouth when Niall kissed her the moment no one was looking. She’d only just tossed her luggage to a corner of her room and collapsed face down into her bed when he’d texted her, asking her to go over to his room for a cuddle. After spending the last few days sharing a bed with him, it was all she really wanted to do, if she was being honest with herself. But then, the jitters came back, she’d made up some excuse of being too tired to move from her bed, and they’d sort of left it at that.

Now, she was mindlessly pulling on a cardigan, gathering her things into her bag and throwing it over her shoulder. She didn’t know where she was going yet, but all she really wanted was to get away, to find some place quiet to just think and make sense of all the emotions coursing through her exhausted body at the moment.

Their last few hours in Vegas had been quite uneventful. At least nothing happened that Mona could remember because she’d been too busy working herself up into a panic. After bringing herself to a somewhat calm state after spending who knows how long hyperventilating in the shower, she got dressed and headed to Zayn’s room. Harlow had been the one to open the door because he had apparently gone out in search of some snacks, but Mona didn’t need him to get what she wanted anyway. She simply dug through the front pocket of his case to find the pack of cigarettes and his spare lighter, taking one cig from the box before scurrying out, ignoring Harlow’s questioning looks.

She couldn’t remember her feet taking her anywhere, but when she’d regained focus again, she’d realized she made her way outside to the back of the building, her spine pressing against the cool brick exterior as she sunk down to the floor. Smoking wasn’t really her thing, but she brought the cigarette to her lips anyway, wondering to herself how she even got there. Her hands shook too much to light it, but once she’d gotten it going, she’d taken one pull only to realize that it was a big mistake. The smoke that filled her lungs only sent her body into panic mode again, and she found herself furiously wiping away her tears as she sat there, on the dingy back alley of the hotel, surrounded by smoke.

She didn’t even know why this was happening. Why was it so hard to picture herself happy with Niall? Why was she so afraid of just telling him how she felt? That maybe there might even be a shred of a chance that he could feel the same?

So, she had issues.

Now, she found herself in her favorite back corner of the library. There was never anyone there and she was always guaranteed a few hours of pure silence at her table. She didn’t know how long she sat there, with her books spread out in front of her, not taking in a single word, but that spot of the library had remained as empty as ever, not even a librarian drifting by to re-shelve books. And she was glad for it.

Until…

“Knew I’d find ya here,” came a familiar brogue murmuring into her ear. She flinched, only to realize he’d had his baseball mitt hands on her shoulders. He chuckled at her reaction, pressing a light kiss to her cheek and pulling up a seat beside her; she was acutely aware of the cold spots on her shoulders where his hands were, his warmth slowly dissipating from her skin. Before she could even catch her bearings, he had taken his seat and was already leaning in, pressing the sweetest and softest of kisses to her lips, the sunshine from his smile seeping into her bloodstream. “Hi,” he mumbled, lips brushing against the corner of her mouth.

When he pulled back, she felt like she was being yanked from a dream. “Hi,” she breathed back, unable to stop the way her fingers started to tremble, unable to stop the way her heart rate skyrocketed. She had to do it. She had to end it.

Niall leaned back into his chair, skin glowing and eyes glimmering and Mona could feel herself faltering. She was such a goner for him. “I came by last night for that cuddle but Harlow said you’d already fallen asleep.” He smiled sweetly, and the way he did it made him look boyish and charming. Mona felt guilt crawling up her windpipes because that wasn’t true, she’d simply pretended to sleep when Harlow came in to check on her. “Didn’t wanna bother you but I think I’ve gotten so used to you being in bed with me that it was hard to fall asleep.”

Mona had to bite back the smile that threatened to break through at that, had to tamp down the hope that started to flutter around in the pit of her stomach. She really hated when he said things like that because it made it difficult to determine where she truly stood with him. “Sorry.” She couldn’t help the way she sounded a bit defeated. “Traveling makes me crazy tired.”

Niall grinned, reaching forward to brush strands of her hair that had fallen out of her haphazard bun away from her face, tucking them behind her ear. “Yeah. I know.” She sighed inwardly. Here she was, with this gorgeous boy who always murmured sweet nothings into her skin, who kissed her so gently, who she loved with all her heart, and she couldn’t even tell him how she felt, and she couldn’t even begin to think herself as worthy of him.

She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow, Niall had thrown an arm across the back of her chair, the warmth radiating from beneath his jumper pressing into her skin. He was leaning in, eyes already fluttered shut, lips parted slightly, and every one of her instincts had her leaning forward too. It hadn’t even been that long but, oh, how she craved his kiss. She wanted more. She always wanted more.

And yet, something lit up in her head. Something that had her hand pressing against his chest, pushing as she curled her feet into the legs of the chair and slid herself backwards, as far away as she could get from that warmth. “Stop,” she croaked, and when she managed to open her eyes, Niall was watching her in concern, already moving forward to comfort her obvious hurt, and again, she moved away.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” His bright blue eyes were so wide and honest and lovely, but Mona couldn’t help but physically cringe at the nickname. He reached for her hand which was still sitting limply on the surface of the table and she pulled it away, averting her eyes so she didn’t have to watch whatever look he’d just pulled.

Mona could feel herself beginning to hyperventilate. She’d bottled and bottled her feelings and now they felt like they were about to explode and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “I need to tell you something,” she blurted out. Her heart was beating ten times faster than normal and she almost wondered if this was what cardiac arrest felt like.

Niall’s eyes widened. “Me too.” Now he actually looked a little nervous. “It’s why I came to find you actually…it’s, uh. It’s kind of urgent.”

She nodded. He should probably go first anyway. It would buy her time to try and figure out how exactly she wanted to tell him that she didn’t want to be his friend with benefits anymore—because god knows that is an awkward conversation.

But Niall motioned for her to go first and she really didn’t want to do that so she decided to just wait. Maybe he would take the hint and go ahead and say what he had to say.

The silence stretched miles between them. All Mona could hear was the thump thump thump of her heart in her ears and she started to feel nauseous, just like that night at Connemara’s. Her body was warning her of something, something bad, and all she could do was sit there and wait for it.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to end this. It hurt so much, all the time, and she couldn’t live like this anymore, in fear of what Niall was going to say to her, in fear of her feelings. The words came out like word vomit, except it happened to both of them at the same time.

“We can’t do this anymore—”

“—I’m going to Ireland.”

They both paused, watching each other as if they couldn’t believe what came out of the other’s mouth. And in a way, Mona couldn’t believe what he’d just said. He always told her he was never going back. She wondered what had happened to change his mind. “You’re going to Ireland?”

Something flashed in Niall’s eyes, like he was still stuck two minutes in the past. “We can’t do what anymore?”

Niall, again, tried to move closer, reach out, do something to console her sudden mood change, but once more, Mona recoiled. “This,” she gestured vaguely at the library books surrounding them, “this,” gesturing again between the two of them. “Whatever this is. We need to stop.”

Now, when she met his eyes, he looked confused, but guarded in a way that reminded her of when they first truly interacted, at the cabin all those years ago. “What d’you mean?”

Mona huffed, twisting her fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of her neck in frustration. She’d been too distracted to comb it this morning, and her fingers caught in several unruly knots. “What are we doing? Why do we keep doing this to ourselves when it’s obvious that it’s going nowhere, this meaningless relationship?”

She couldn’t keep the exasperation from her voice, and Niall reacted to it like he’d just sustained a blow. “Meaningless?” He scooted his chair closer but didn’t reach out, instead leaning forward and hoping Mona didn’t move away. “Mo, what are you talking about.”

“I—” This was it, she was starting to panic. And there was nothing she could do to stop it. Tremors radiated throughout her entire body and she had to tamp down the nausea by swallowing quickly. “I—” She huffed at herself, angry at the way her cheeks suffused with heat. As tears pricked at her eyes, she really thought she was going to be sick. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “I can’t do this anymore. I was fine. Everything was fine. And then you came along and now I can’t stop feeling things and freaking out over every little thing.”

She chanced a glance at Niall only to find him watching her with the most confused look in his eyes, and now a new feeling was crawling through her: stupidity. “Darlin’, I really don’t understand what you’re saying.”

She sunk into her chair, half wishing that it could just swallow her up so she wouldn’t have to have this conversation with him. “I’m saying,” she said, voice level, because she knew she was only a few breaths away from crying, “that I don’t want to have sex with you anymore. Or cuddles or hand holding or sharing beds and kisses or any of it. Because now everything is complicated and my feelings are all over the place and I don’t know where I stand with you or what I am to you and it kills me every single day. So I just want it to all stop.”

She took a deep breath after her ramble, the heat in her face growing down her neck. When she looked at Niall again, something like realization flashed in his eyes. “No,” he breathed, and she really wished he didn’t look at her like that. “Mona, I—you—something is getting mixed up here because that’s not—” He searched her eyes, those bright blue ones looking increasingly…mortified? Terrified? Mona wasn’t sure. “Mo, I like you.”

Mona felt like he’d just slapped her across the face. Her heart completely stopped, which probably explained why she did what she did next, because her brain took over from there. “You’re just saying that because I want to end this thing we have.”

Niall sucked in a breath, moving closer, and she didn’t miss the urgency in his voice. “Mo,” he tried to laugh, like this was all a joke, but it sounded more like a huff, “what are you—I really like you.”

She wanted to scream at him or place her hands on his shoulders and give him a hard shake. Why couldn’t he see what she was trying to tell him? “No you don’t, Niall.”

Now, his eyes blazed. He dragged her chair closer and turned it around so it was facing him, his hands slamming down onto the table top as he blocked off her other side with his legs so she wouldn’t run away. He knew her too well. “How are you going to try and tell me how I feel?” He sounded completely offended, and she felt that stupid instinct to push him away because he was getting too close into those walls she’d so meticulously put up around herself over the years.

“Because I know that you don’t!” She clenched her fingers into a fist and pressed them to her knees, as if that would calm her down. Suddenly, every instance in which she doubted him flashed through her mind, every instance which factored into her deciding that they would never work out together, that he would never feel the way she felt about him. “If you did then why did you buy drinks for that girl in Vegas? Why are you always flirting with girls at Connemara’s? Why did you kiss Cleo?” Those last words ripped out of her. She hadn’t exactly said them out loud before, and she felt like her heart was breaking into even more shreds. As she spoke again, her voice was quiet, broken. “Those aren’t things you do when you like someone else.”

Silence. It was deafening. Niall’s face was pulled into complete shock, and she wondered if hers mirrored it. He opened and closed his mouth for a few moments, mouthing words except no sound would come out. A traitorous tear fell down Mona’s cheek and she angrily wiped it away. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wanted to go and lock herself in her bedroom and possibly never come out. Finally, he whispered, “You saw that?”

He could’ve been talking about anything. But Mona had the feeling they were finally having the Cleo conversation. That moment in Connemara’s was what kickstarted these tremoring nerves in her, and she would very much like not to have another panic attack over this again. Against her will, her lips started to wobble, and more tears started to spill from her eyes. Her hands shook more than she could even begin to control.

“Mona,” Niall croaked. He looked as if he were about to cry too and she immediately averted her eyes. She couldn’t look at him anymore. “You have to believe me even though I know you don’t want to.” He held both of her hands in his and willed her to meet his eyes. “That meant nothing I swear. I promise. It was just a mistake. I was drunk. Mona, please.” There was a wild and desperate look in the bright blue, and at the sight of it, Mona found her brain becoming even more jumbled. She wasn’t sure what was happening, what she was doing, why she was doing it. All she wanted was to stop her chest from hurting so bad. “Mona, I lov—”

“Don’t say it.” Her voice was hoarse, and again, she snatched her hands away from his grip. Her breath came out in stutters, and it was probably the lack of oxygen that had her brain feeling like it was ready to short-circuit at any moment. She needed to get out of here, away from Niall, so she could just think. Just process her feelings and this situation and think. “Do not say something you don’t mean to me right now. Don’t make this worse than it already is.”

But Niall was adamant. He pulled her chair towards him and grabbed her face between his hands. “Don’t do this,” he whispered, begging. His fingers gently brushed her wild hair away from her eyes and he held her as if she was made of glass. “I know this is a lot and I know that you’re hurt but we can talk about it and it’ll all make sense, I promise.”

She couldn’t. Do. This. She couldn’t breathe. She needed to go away away away, far from Niall, where she could find some oxygen and some quiet and just think. “I don’t want to talk!” she hissed, shoving his hands away, the tears spilling down faster and more frequently, and she was starting to hyperventilate. It felt like the walls of the library were closing in on her. She needed to get out of there. “This hurts, Niall! Can’t you see? This hurts and I can’t do it anymore. It’s too much. Too much.”

“Mona.” But it was too late. She was already grabbing her bag and shoving books back inside of it. A stupid sob left her lips and that was all she needed to spin around on her heel and get out of there. “Mona!” Niall called out after her, but she was already running. Running, between the shelves of books and down the stairs and through the hallway and out the door. Running, all the way down the street and through the little park at the corner and not stopping until she tripped over a branch and had to sit down at a bench to pull splinters out of her hands.

She didn’t know how long she sat there but she vaguely registered her phone blowing up with calls and texts. She didn’t dare look to see who they were from.

It was quite strange. Just a few days ago she was happy and laughing with Harlow’s family in San Francisco, and now, she was sitting here, in New York, wondering how on earth it felt like her life had turned completely upside down since then. She started at her hands, twisting her fingers together as she tried to figure out what to do.

Her mehndi stain was starting to fade. But if she looked closely, she could still make out Niall’s name, swirled intricately into the curves of a flower petal. She remembered Pari’s words as she worked on Mona’s hands with her henna cone— “I know enough about you two to root for you and you’re not gonna let my dreams die.”

Mona gulped. She didn’t know how she was going to tell Pari that there would be nothing to root for now.

Her phone buzzed again, this time with a phone call, and when she looked at it, she was not surprised to see Niall’s contact photo smiling at her. She didn’t know what it was, if it was the breeze lightly tickling her cheeks or the fact that she felt like she probably had nothing more to lose, but she answered it.

“Mo,” Niall rushed out, without waiting for a greeting from her. “Please listen carefully and do not hang up the phone.” She huffed at that. He knew her way too well, but there was a sort of pleading in his voice that kept her hanging on to his every word. “I know you’re upset and you probably have every right to be.” He sounded out of breath, like he had been running somewhere. “It’s been really weird and complicated between us, I know, but…you’re upset because—because—” He huffed, and she heard clattering on his end as if he’d dropped something. “Because you have feelings for me too, right? And you don’t know where we stand.”

She felt her face heat up. She hoped he wasn’t mocking her because that would just have been cruel.

“Mo, you there?” There was a twinge of something like panic in his voice now.

“Yeah,” she got out, her voice hoarse.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Meet me at the place this all began. And I promise this will all make sense and everything will fall into place.” All the background noise stopped, and it sounded as if he’d gone into a building or someplace quiet. “Nothing happened with Cleo and I don’t even feel anything for her like I feel for you but just—just meet me there and I’ll explain everything.”

Mona closed her eyes. There was a lot to unpack in his words and she had no idea where to even start to make sense of it all. Thoughts were whizzing around in her head like crazy, and she was starting to feel a bit scatter brained.

“Mona,” Niall got out when she didn’t say anything, and this time, he sounded desperate. “Please say something? Please?”

But she didn’t know what to say. Her throat was as dry as ever as she gulped a few times, searching for words to string together. But nothing came to mind.

On the other side of the line, wherever he was, Niall sighed. “Okay. If you’re not there by half past five…I’ll consider it that you want nothing else to do with me, and I’ll leave you alone. For good.” She gasped softly. “Please, Mo,” he whispered before he hung up, leaving her alone with her thoughts again.

The sounds of the city surrounded her, honking cars and buses driving past and people walking on the sidewalk talking on their cellphones all melding together to create a collective din she could only associate with New York. But there was only one sound ringing relentlessly in her ears: the sound of Niall’s voice.

If you’re not there by half past five, I’ll consider it that you want nothing else to do with me, and I’ll leave you alone. For good.

Alone for good? Mona’s pulse skyrocketed at the thought. She could hardly even imagine a world without her sunshine boy in it.

Suddenly, she started to walk again. She didn’t know where her feet were taking her. All she knew was that she just needed to move, just needed to have something to do to distract her from her agonizing thoughts. Distantly, she realized that walking around aimlessly would not help her case for long, that she’d need to give Niall an answer by half past five, but all she really wanted at the moment was for her brain to just stop. She needed to be able to get someplace quiet where she could sort out all of her conflicting emotions and make a rational decision.

She rolled her eyes at herself. This should’ve been a no-brainer. Then what was stopping her?

As she passed near the library again, she found her answer.

She was across the street but she could see him as clear as day. He was standing in front of the library doors, carding his fingers through his hair in a way she knew he only did when he was stressed out of his mind. The street was wide, with three lane traffic going in either direction and a median strip for pedestrians in the middle, so she only caught glimpses of him through the moving traffic, but she wondered if there was that telltale flush making its way up his neck.

And then it happened.

A cab stopped in front of the library and out came a familiar head of long blonde hair. Mona recognized Cleo instantly, especially as the cab drove away, her poise and confident stance unmistakable. Niall’s shoulders slumped in what looked like relief at the sight of her, and even from where she was standing across the street, Mona could see the way the corners of his lips curved up slightly as he brought her in for a hug.

Mona felt a swoop in her belly, like she was at the top of a rollercoaster and then she was falling and falling without being able to prepare herself. Numbly, she looked away. She didn’t want to see any more. She didn’t even want to feel anymore. Like she’d been doing a lot lately, she did the one thing she was capable of: she walked away.

How cruel of Niall to ask her to give him a chance and then run right into the arms of Cleo! How foolish he must’ve thought she was! How was he going to run right to Cleo, when this whole issue was because of Cleo?!

Even the crisp April breeze could not cut through the heat she was feeling in her skin, the burn of anger and frustration and embarrassment and heartbreak. This was already hard, why did Niall have to go and make it infinitely more difficult? Why did he have to go and make her feel more than she even wanted to. She hated him in that moment, hated him and his bright blue eyes and his baseball mitt hands and his sickeningly sweet smile.

And then another voice in her head laughed so hard it sounded like a cackle, because even deep in her heart, she knew it wasn’t even possible for her to hate her sunshine boy.

When she finally looked up to try and figure out where exactly she’d ended up while she was lost in her thoughts, she found that she had somehow made it to Connemara’s. She twisted her wrist to check the time on her watch and figured that Jingle might be inside, doing paperwork or getting the place ready for tonight, so she placed a hand on the door and pushed her way inside.

The bells above the door chimed as she walked in, the sound all light and pretty and so unlike how she was feeling at the moment. Just as she was sliding herself up onto a barstool at the counter, Jingle’s orange head of hair appeared as she peered out from the corner to see who had just entered her bar, even though it was clearly closed.

“Oh, Mona,” she got out once she’d realized it was her. She rounded the counter to lock the front door and then made her way back to stand in front of her. “What a surprise.”

Though in Jingle’s perpetually monotone voice, it didn’t really sound like she was surprised at all.

Mona shrugged, at a loss for what to say. “Just stopping by to say hello,” was what she managed to come up with.

In hindsight, she realized that she probably only walked into Connemara’s that day because she knew Jingle, like Zayn, wouldn’t be afraid to call her out on her bullshit. So Mona wasn’t surprised when she scoffed, sending her a wry look through her orange bangs as she made herself comfortable on the high stool behind the counter. “Yeah, you know I don’t believe that so why don’t we just cut to the part where you tell me why you’re upset.”

Mona frowned, unable to keep her lips from wobbling. Even verbalizing it into words seemed painful beyond belief. “Can I have a drink first?” she mumbled into her hand as she slumped into the counter.

Jingle watched her warily, mimicking her pose. “Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you first and then I’ll see if you deserve a drink.”

This time Mona was the one sending Jingle a look. She hated that everyone knew her so well. After a brief silence, where they both simply stared at one another, willing the other to break down, Mona was the one to sigh through it. Clearly, Jingle wasn’t going to budge. “I basically just broke up with Niall,” was what came out of Mona’s mouth. Obviously, Jingle knew they weren’t together, but that was sure as hell what it felt like, a messy breakup. “A best friend breakup.”

Mona didn’t have to look up to know Jingle was glaring at her. “Now why the hell would you do that? That was dumb.”

Mona groaned, burying her face into the curve of her elbow as she crossed her arms together on the counter. “I didn’t come here to be insulted, Jingle.”

Maybe it was the way her voice came out, all shaky and muffled, but Jingle placed a gentle hand on her arm, coaxing her up. “You know I’d never be anything but honest with you.” Mona looked up to see a rare look of what she could only describe as protective and understanding dawn on Jingle’s face. “So I mean it with love when I say that you’re a fucking dumbass.” Mona rolled her eyes, slumping into her hands again. “C’mon. Tell me what happened.”

So she did. Mona spilled her heart out to Jingle in a way she hadn’t done with anyone else. She described in detail the morning she’d had and why she did what she did, even explaining her deepest emotions and how conflicted she felt over them because of the mixed signals she was receiving from Niall. When she was done, big fat tears were rolling down her face, a pile of tissues overflowing in a bin near her feet, and Jingle slid her a rum and coke for her efforts.

She didn’t know why it was so easy to talk to Jingle. Perhaps it was because she knew that there would be no judgement, that whatever Jingle thought, she’d say it right away. It also helped that she was a good listener, allowing Mona to pour her feelings out onto her bar counter without saying a word.

“You know,” Jingle got out once Mona had downed half of her drink and sapped away all of the lingering tears with a tissue. She seemed lost in thought, stirring her own drink with a straw. “I don’t really know what to say to you,” she said honestly, but really, Mona didn’t mind. She didn’t come here for advice. She just needed someone to talk to. Someone with an unbiased opinion. “Obviously you’re both being stupid in this situation, and I agree that the signals he’s sending you are a little weird, but, I don’t know. I really don’t.”

There was silence for a while, save for Mona sniffling occasionally. She once again thought of Niall’s last words to her on the phone earlier: If you’re not there by half past five, I’ll consider it that you want nothing else to do with me, and I’ll leave you alone. For good.

The ‘for good’ was blinking like strobe lights in her brain. She had wanted this to be as painless as possible. But could that even have happened when their lives were so intertwined as they were?

Finally, Jingle was breaking the silence. “So where did he say he wanted you to meet him again? Are you gonna go?”

“I don’t know,” she huffed. “He just said ‘the place where it all began.’ I don’t even know what that—” But then her thoughts started to run wild. He obviously couldn’t have meant the cabin because that was too far away. But then she realized that he must have been talking about the night she first kissed him. That was when things started to build between them, when dormant feelings started to grow in her chest and she started to notice him more. And that happened at… “The Empire State Building,” she said aloud, her voice a whisper.  

Jingle huffed out a laugh. When Mona looked up at her, her eyes were twinkling, a soft smile on her face. “Well what are you waiting for then?” She gave her an urgent look. “Go and get your boy!”

But Mona simply shook her head. There was something keeping her on this barstool, and as she mulled on it, she realized that it was Cleo. And not only Cleo, it was doubt. She just didn’t believe Niall needed to be with her. She still thought he would be happier with someone like Cleo. Someone with no baggage. “Jingle,” she sighed, “I’m not the one he should be with.” She ignored the resulting groan she received. “You haven’t seen the way he looks at Cleo.”

Jingle rolled her eyes. “No, I haven’t. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” When Mona looked up again, Jingle was leaning over the counter, eyes blazing. “Now you listen to me, Mona Shaw. You better get your ass out of my bar and go to Empire State to tell that boy how you feel.” She reached out to place a hand over Mona’s, voice going soft. “Because I promise you, you won’t be disappointed.”

Mona sucked in a breath, willing herself not to cry again. “But—”

Jingle wasn’t having any of it. “You two are made for each other.” She paused, as if turning over her words carefully in her head, and then after a moment, she sighed. “Okay, listen,” she shuffled closer to the counter on her stool, leaning over the counter as if she were telling Mona a secret, despite the fact they were the only two people in the place. When she spoke again, her voice was low and measured. “I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told him one day, when he was in here, on the same stool you’re sitting on right now, with the same look on his face.” Mona didn’t know why, but something about that startled her. “People who are just friends don’t look at each other the way you two do.”

Mona’s mind ran wild. Jingle had this conversation with Niall? When? Why?

If Jingle noticed her shock, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she trudged on. “You two are so lucky to have each other. And I really mean that sincerely.” Mona knew she was telling the truth, because Jingle was looking at her imploringly, her eyes widened in such intense emotion and honesty that Mona felt all the wind get knocked out of her. Because Jingle Connemara was giving her a reality check. One that she didn’t even know she needed. “The way you two look at each other?” she huffed out a laugh, eyes glazed over as she thought of a distant memory, “Reminds me of my parents. And they were in love. This crazy, blinding, passionate, but understanding kind of love. When I was younger, I used to wish I could find a love like they had.”

There was this soft smile on Jingle’s face, and it made her look years younger. So much younger that Mona could imagine her as a small child, without the orange hair and the tattoos and the piercings. She could imagine her smiling and laughing with her parents, having a happy, perfect life. Mona knew that Jingle’s mother had passed away years ago, and that it had been hard on Mr. Connemara. But this new insight into her life had her reeling.

Jingle seemed to catch herself, and when she looked at Mona this time, she was resigned. “What you and Niall have? That’s so special. Please don’t throw that away. You guys make each other better. I mean, can you honestly sit here and say you’re the same person as you were before you met him?” The truth behind Jingle’s words washed over her. Both Mona and Niall were completely different people now compared to a year ago. But was it because of each other? “Because I can tell you that you have completely changed. For the better. Well…minus the last three months or so because then you started to overthink everything.” Mona huffed, and Jingle sent her a look that shut her up again. “You know that you love him, and I’m telling you that he has feelings for you too, though what they are, that’s up to him to tell you. So what exactly is stopping you? Why are you here and not at Empire State where he’s waiting for you?”

Mona took a deep breath, letting out a shuddery exhale. How could she explain to Jingle what she couldn’t even explain to herself? How could she explain to Jingle and Harlow and Zayn and Harry and Liam and Niall—sweet wonderful Niall—that everything she loves somehow gets destroyed?

There was a tear in Jingle’s eyes, and the sight of it had Mona’s lips wobbling again. “Listen to me Mona,” Jingle got out, squeezing her hands, her voice wavering. “If you don’t get the hell out of my bar and catch that train to Empire State right this moment, I am going to fire you.” Mona startled at that, and it was so unexpected and so unironically Jingle that she just couldn’t help but laugh. Jingle chuckled too, and she rounded the counter to press her hands to Mona’s shoulders, gently shoving her in the direction of the door. “You laugh but I mean it! I will fire you! I’m not going to just sit around and watch you ruin the chances of the couple I’ve been silently rooting for for the past year.”

Mona giggled. Her mind suddenly seemed clear with conviction. “Okay, okay, I’m going!” She let Jingle push her all the way to the doorframe before she turned around, brows waggling as she remembered something she’d been wanting to say to her for a while. “By the way…I know about you and Harry.”

Jingle looked stunned for a moment before she started to laugh. Like, really laugh, in a way Mona had never seen before. It was honestly a sight. Her face lit up, orange hair seemingly glowing, and Mona almost wished she’d do that more often. Jingle whipped a hand towel against Mona’s behind, laughing again at the way Mona yelped out the door. “Get the hell out of here, Mona Shaw! Go get your boy!”

And then, for the second time that day, Mona was running. But she was also laughing and breathing easily, hurrying down the streets to get to the subway entrance.

She was going to go get her sunshine boy.

~

4:45 PM.

Mona’s heart was beginning to race. How did time get so far ahead of her?

The trains were experiencing delays, and she was suddenly reminded of how much she loathed public transportation in the city.

She tried texting Niall so he wouldn’t think that she was standing him up, but she didn’t have any signal underground, and she didn’t dare try to run upstairs to get service in case she missed the train. So, she was stuck, anxiously waiting for the train while silently hoping that she’d get to Niall in time.

She found an empty space on a bench and sat, trying to keep her breathing nice and calm. The last thing she wanted was to freak out on the subway. She closed her eyes and counted to ten in her head, timing her breaths to the numbers. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

Niall’s words were running on loop in her head and it was driving her insane. “If you’re not there by half past five, I’ll consider it that you want nothing else to do with me, and I’ll leave you alone. For good.”

She glanced at her phone, feeling jittery. 5:00 PM.

Damnit!, she thought to herself, fingers trembling. She didn’t know how the hell she was going to get there in half an hour. She was beginning to brainstorm alternative options when, finally, the train arrived. A sigh of relief left her lips as she hurried into a crowded car.

As the train started to move, she closed her eyes again, starting her counts and breathing accordingly. It’ll all be fine, she tried to tell herself. But her reassurances did little to slow her heartbeats. A terrible feeling started to creep up her windpipes that, for the life of her, she couldn’t shake. She refused to let the negative thoughts cross her mind, hoping with every ounce of her heart that she got there on time.

Niall’s voice echoing ‘for good’ was ringing in her ears and she nearly pressed her hands against the sides of her head to will it to stop. But she caught herself. She couldn’t have a breakdown in the middle of a crowded train, she just couldn’t. That would be a new low, even for her.

By some stroke of luck, the train was at Mona’s stop and she bounded out, glancing at her phone as she exited the subway and made her way to the stairs. 5:20 PM.

She bolted her way up the stairs, not allowing herself to stop, even for a breath. There was still time. There was still hope.

She got all the way up the stairs only for a security guard to stop her, telling her that they were closing off that particular exit due to construction and she’d have to take the other stairwell. Mona groaned, not even bothering to give him a piece of her mind—why the hell didn’t they close off the stairs at the bottom then!—because she needed to go and she was running out of time.

Her fingers desperately clutched her phone, flashing the screen on again as she ran up the other set of stairs. 5:23 PM. She was starting to go crazy.

By the time she made it above ground, she realized it was raining. She didn’t have a hood or an umbrella, but she didn’t care, instead running through the block towards the entrance to the observatory deck. She was running out of time. She was starting to feel Niall slipping through her fingers.

When she finally, finally, got there—5:27 PM—she was being stopped by yet another guard. “I’m sorry, miss, but the observatory deck is closed today.”

“Closed?” she echoed breathlessly. She didn’t wait for him to answer before she was spinning around again, frustratedly running her fingers through her hair which had somehow come undone on her journey. There had to be some mistake. Where did Niall want to meet her then?

Panic was beginning to flare up inside her. She knew for a fact this was the place Niall had meant for her to end up, could feel it in her bones that he was around here somewhere. But where?

5:30 PM. And then the light of the screen of her phone flickered out, the battery drained.

She nearly threw it into the street in her frustration. Her luck was absolute shit today. How on earth was she going to contact Niall now. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a pair of pay phones. One looked as if it were damaged, but the other looked perfectly fine. She dug into the pockets of her jeans and her fingers closed around a few bits of change.

A tiny flicker of hope sparked within her again and she ran towards the pay phone. She was nearly there when she saw him, that familiar head of blond, nearly brown, hair, glasses perched on his nose. “Niall!” she called out, feet immediately taking her towards him. It was pouring now, raindrops seeping into her clothes and drenching her. She wiped away the water from her eyes and continued to run.

He was getting into a cab. No, she thought desperately. Please see me. Please notice me.

“Niall!” she called again, screaming this time. There was a fire burning up her throat, the fear threatening to paralyze her. But still, she continued to run. He couldn’t see her, nor could he hear her, the hustle and bustle of the area blaring all around them. Cars and trucks were honking. Somewhere, a fire truck’s sirens were wailing. Her sunshine boy was slipping away.

She called his name again and again and again but he had already gotten into the cab and it was pulling away from the curb. It felt like she was in a nightmare, but the pain from the stich in her side that she’d gotten from running was telling her that this was very much real life. “No,” she whimpered as the cab weaved through the traffic and drove off, away and out of sight. No.

But she had to face the facts. As her chest burned and the rain soaked her skin, she realized something that would probably haunt her for the rest of her life:

She was too late.

~

Mona didn’t realize she’d gotten back to her apartment complex until she was pressing the button for the elevator.

She felt numb, going through the motions in a daze. Her skin was soaked through from the rain and she was shivering, but none of that seemed to matter.

If you’re not there by half past five, I’ll consider it that you want nothing else to do with me, and I’ll leave you alone. For good.

She was too late. Niall was going to leave her alone. For good.

She didn’t even know how she was breathing through the absolute agony in her chest. Her clothes were dripping onto the floors of the elevator car, and the sound of it was probably the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. As she listened to the methodical drip, drip, drip of the water, all she could think about was Niall and his bright blue eyes and his dazzling smile and how she probably broke his heart today.

When she got to her floor, she headed straight for his apartment, wondering if he made it home. Perhaps he would forget about ‘for good’ and let her explain why she was late and that she nearly caught him before he hurried into his cab. Perhaps he would give her a chance.

No such luck though. Because the person opening the door was not Niall, it was Liam.

Mona would have preferred it if Liam had yelled at her, if he was angry at her, if he insulted her for breaking Niall’s heart. Instead, those big brown eyes reflected utter disappointment, and that hurt her more than anything else.

“Niall?” she asked, voice hoarse. She had wanted to cry but no more tears would come out. Even her body was disappointed in her.

Liam simply shook his head. Now, his expression was drawn in pity. There was something about it that had her swaying on her feet, feeling slightly faint. “I’m really sorry, Mo,” he said quietly, and he sounded so sad. “He said he wanted to be left alone.”

She nodded numbly at him, too shocked from the day’s events to manage anything else, and she turned around to make her way into her own apartment.

“Mo?” Liam was calling out to her, but she didn’t have the energy to face him. Instead, he came to her, standing in front of her. A list of things he could’ve said crossed her mind. You really fucked up, Mo, or I expected better from you, Mo or You don’t deserve him, Mo. But he said none of those things. Instead, he gathered her to his chest, arms tightening around her in one of his warm, strong hugs, and he said, “It’s all going to be okay, Mo.”

She nodded silently against his chest.

She really hoped he was right.