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tsarisfanfiction · 5 years ago

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Long Way From Home: Chapter 2

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

Well, the first chapter certainly got some reactions, so I’m back again to either answer the questions from last chapter or make things more confusing. Or both, because why not? I’m planning weekly updates, but we’ll see what actually happens. Thanks, uni.

<<<Chapter 1

Logic screamed that he was actually facing the Hood, the twisted man adopting his own appearance for some scheme or other that Scott really didn’t want to know about. His gut told logic to go take a hike – there was no way the Hood would be standing there, barely two feet from his uniform, and not raiding any and all technology he could get his grubby little paws on. Nor would the Hood leave him unrestrained when he’d had plenty of opportunity to secure him during the gap in his memory.

Besides, the Hood was a perfectionist. His disguises were flawless, a product of technology Brains rolled his eyes at but acknowledged was an engineering masterpiece, if sadly in the wrong hands. This Scott in front of him was not a carbon copy.

For starters, much to Scott’s chagrin, the man’s hair was a healthy brown all over. No grey traitors wormed their way along his roots, signs of stress he desperately tried to ignore even as his brothers taunted him for their existence and pulled stunts that felt designed to increase their number. The brown was also slightly lighter than his own, although that could just have been a product of more washes and less gel. Despite the lack of grey hairs, he also got the impression that this man was actually older than him, if only by a year or so.

“How did you get here?” His voice was different, too. The pitch wasn’t the same, nor was the tone quite right. Virgil could give a better summary of the nuances, he was sure.

The words, though. Those were all Scott, right down to the sharp delivery and clear expectation of a prompt answer. Skipping pleasantries, and heading straight for the heart of the matter because they didn’t have time to dance around the issue.

“I might have a better idea if I knew where ‘here’ was,” he challenged. “What is this place? Where am I?” Where were his brothers?

The Other-Scott (Fake Scott? Hood-Masquerading-As-Scott?) locked gazes with him. What he was looking for, Scott didn’t know, but he refused to cower away from his doppelgänger and met his steely, searching look with one of his own. Logic still insisted that the Hood, or at least the Hood’s technology, had to be responsible, but he’d learnt to trust his gut long before he’d even heard of his father’s dream of International Rescue and that was adamant that Kayo’s miserable excuse for a family member had nothing to do with the man in front of him.

What it couldn’t tell him was who the man was, aside from an imperfect clone of himself. The unusual technology surrounding them – alien, Alan might call it for lack of a more rational explanation – was another piece to the puzzle that wasn’t slotting together.

Puzzles were more of John’s thing, not his. There were many times his ginger brother had rescued the poor pieces from his hands as he tried to force them into the wrong places.

Why had John not made contact yet?

“Who are you?” he demanded when it became clear that the other man wasn’t intending on answering his other questions. “Why am I here? Where are my brothers?”

“Brothers?” Other-Scott repeated, frowning deeply. “We found you alone.”

“Found me?” Scott spat. “Where? Last place I remember was the securest part of my own home! There’s no way you got near me without passing my brothers!” His brothers, sleeping soundly in the belief that they were safe in their own home. Even John had gone to sleep, secure on Five, but if they’d reached Thunderbird One’s hangar they’d have reached the space elevator docking system. “So where. Are. My. Brothers?”

“You were in our home,” Other-Scott bit back, hands briefly balling into fists before being forced to relax again. “Alone. Wherever your brothers are, it’s not here.” Scott didn’t like the emphasis on brothers.

“Don’t lie to me!” he roared, temper fraying. His brothers had to be with him, otherwise John would have made contact asking where he’d gone. Otherwise this man – and others beside him – had invaded their home and taken him whilst leaving his brothers but that made no sense. Why take only one member of International Rescue when you could have all five? Why take only one Tracy – even if it was the eldest, the one with the most access to all their assets – when you could take more for additional insurance?

They hadn’t tied him down, and the wires hooking him up to the bizarre machines had long since lost their hold on him from his earlier movement. A rookie mistake. With years of Air Force training behind him, Scott launched himself at the other man.

Blue eyes widened just before a fist made contact with his cheek, and Other-Scott staggered backwards before catching his balance, his hand tenderly brushing over the injured area. The movement had put him to one side, no longer between Scott and the door, and Scott took full advantage of that. If this man wasn’t going to admit where his brothers were, he’d find them himself.

It was his turn to receive a punch as he jumped towards the door, putting him off-course and allowing Other-Scott to block his way again. This time, his curiously wary look had changed to an angry one, and as they met in a flurry of blows Scott couldn’t tell which of them moved first.

“Let. Me. At. My. Brothers,” he spat between blows, gasping as an elbow caught him in the solar plexus just as Other-Scott doubled over from a fist to the gut.

“They’re not, argh, here!” Other-Scott insisted, hooking their ankles together and bringing them tumbling to the floor, where they pushed and shoved at each other, trying to get the upper hand. Something fell off a table as Scott’s back slammed into it, shattering into many glass fragments and dousing him with a cool liquid. Another bottle hit Other-Scott’s shoulder on the way down, before smashing on the floor and adding to the mess.

They were equally matched, neither able to get the upper hand as they rolled around on the floor, fists flying, heads clashing, and elbows jabbing whatever fleshy body parts they could reach in all the chaos. Broken glass dug mercilessly into bare skin wherever it was visible, the liquid contents of the former bottles oozing through their clothes. Other-Scott’s head slammed against the bed, but he barely paused before Scott found his own head colliding with a metal table, darkening his vision for a split second.

“What’s going on here?” an unfamiliar voice demanded. Scott ignored it, and Other-Scott met his latest attacks with equal fervour. “Scott, stop!”

Scott had no intention of stopping. He didn’t recognise the voice, but Other-Scott had flinched so he did, which meant they were working together.

Strong arms grabbed him, hauling him away from Other-Scott with a grunt, and he kicked out at the warm body restraining him. Other-Scott had been captured too, a shorter brown-haired man built like a tank firmly hooking him under the shoulders and frowning furiously as he fought to keep hold of Scott’s doppelgänger, who was as determined to get free as Scott himself.

“BOYS!” the voice thundered right in his ear, no doubt belonging to the owner of the arms restraining him. “What is this nonsense all a- oof?” Scott threw his head back, clashing with what felt like a nose, from the way it gave.

“Where are my brothers?” His demand came out almost as a scream, all his frustration at the situation pouring out of him as at least two more hostiles made themselves apparent. Other-Scott was stopping short of causing any damage to his own captor in his bids for freedom, suggesting that while the man was breaking up the fight, he was still on Other-Scott’s side.

“I told you!” Other-Scott shouted back at him. “They’re not here! We only found you!”

“They must be here!” Scott insisted. “Don’t lie to me!”

“E-nuff!” the man behind him joined in, the imperious tone ruined by the clear sounds of a broken nose. “Shedate im!”

Scott fought harder as a ginger man entered the room, looking at him with wide brown eyes before surveying the mess in front of him with trepidation. He picked his way across glass-strewn floor carefully, but Scott was more interested in Other-Scott, whose attempts to get free had reduced to a token effort as his attention was briefly stolen by the ginger man. He recognised that look of concern too well, far too used to seeing it in the mirror.

“Oh my!” a frail woman’s voice sounded from the doorway. “Oh, what a mess. Jefferson, what are you doing to that poor young man?”

Jefferson. The name was so familiar it hurt, but at least he had a name for Other-Scott – or so he thought until the man holding him responded.

“He’s quith ou o conthrol, muffer.”

Unable to help himself, Scott tore his gaze away from Other-Scott, who had now stopped resisting capture entirely in favour of looking in the direction of the doorway almost sheepishly, to catch a glimpse of the man holding him. Silver-grey hair and a receding hairline weren’t immediately familiar, however, and the hold he was in preventing him from seeing much more. He could, however, see the elderly lady who had interrupted the fight. Rosy cheeks, a slightly bent back and a quiver in her hands all pointed towards a particularly advanced age.

“Where are my brothers?” he asked again, reigning his voice in to an almost-level, if still intense, level.

“I told you-” Other-Scott started forwards again, only to be brought up short by the man still holding him tightly.

“Your brothers, dearie?” the old woman interrupted. “Oh, I’m afraid I don’t know. Jefferson, why don’t you help the young man find his brothers?”

“They’re not here, Grandma,” Other-Scott said, and Scott flared up again.

“Well then, dearie, it seems to me that instead of all this fighting, you should be looking to find out where they are,” Other-Scott’s grandmother pointed out. “I’m sure their absence is terribly distressing him. I know you’d be terribly distressed if your brothers were missing.” She pottered towards him, the ginger-haired man sweeping back to her side and nudging broken glass out of the way with a foot before she could tread on any. “Jefferson, let him go. Are you hungry, dearie? I’ve got an apple pie that’s just finished baking.”

“Muffer!” the man holding him protested, but the woman was no longer paying her son any attention, bespectacled eyes homing in on Scott. He looked around the room; Other-Scott was still held by the brown-haired man, and the ginger was hovering awkwardly by the elderly lady but shooting him assessing looks. The grip on his arms was slackening, and it became clear that no-one wanted to fight with her in the midst, Scott himself included.

“Well, dearie?” the woman prompted, and he slid out of the other man’s grasp. The instant he did so, a hand, just as frail and delicate as the rest of her, came to rest on his forearm. “If apple pie doesn’t meet your fancy, I have an orange tart, or some banana bread. Oh, if none of those tickle you, I’m sure I can find something,” she wittered as he found himself being coaxed from the room.

“Uh, apple pie would be… fine,” he said haltingly. Behind him, he heard a noise of protest. “Thank you, er, Mrs..?”

“Oh dear, I didn’t introduce myself.” She sounded mortified at the omission. “I’m so sorry, dear. It’s Mrs Tracy.”

It shouldn’t have bothered him. Tracy wasn’t an uncommon name, for all that there was only one family famous for it. The elderly lady looked nothing like his grandmother – either of them, even if his recollections of his mother’s mother were faded – but her grandson still looked like him, to the point he still didn’t trust the other man, or indeed anyone in the house. In light of that, having his own surname thrown around startled him.

“Is there something wrong?” Mrs Tracy asked him. “Oh, you don’t look well at all, dear. Let’s sit you down.” He found himself ushered into a seat as they reached what was clearly the kitchen. A young woman was already there, pulling the promised apple pie out of a bizarre contraption that vaguely resembled an old oven. “Tin-Tin, would you be a dear and fetch your father?” the elderly lady asked her. “This young man doesn’t seem very well.”

“But of course, Mrs Tracy.” Tin-Tin had a slight lilting accent to her voice, somewhere south-east Asian if Scott had to guess. “I’ll find him now.” She placed the apple pie, which smelled absolutely heavenly to Scott, compared to his own grandmother’s regular offerings, on the table and left the room.

“Eat up, dearie,” Mrs Tracy insisted, placing a plate in front of him. “Help yourself to as much as you want.”

The apple pie smelled good, and despite his misgivings at the entire situation, a homemade apple pie was far too tempting and he found himself tucking in to a healthy slice.

“What would you like to drink, dear?” she asked. “Tea, coffee? Oh, I have some juice somewhere, now where did I put it..?”

“Water is fine,” he answered between mouthfuls.

“Oh, are you sure?” she queried. “It’s no trouble at all.”

“Perfectly,” he replied, only to blink as a steaming cup of tea appeared in front of him.

“You called, Mrs Tracy?” An older man had entered the kitchen while he wasn’t looking, an impressive and concerning feat considering Scott was still on edge about the entire situation. His accent was the same as Tin-Tin’s, implying that this was her father.

“Oh, Kyrano,” the woman greeted. “This young man, oh, silly me, I never asked for your name, dearie… Dearie?”

Scott barely heard her, the cup of tea he’d started to lift falling from startled fingers to smash onto the table, spilling the liquid everywhere.

Kyrano. Another familiar name, if not a familiar face. First, Other-Scott, who could have been his identical twin. Then, Mrs Tracy, a name he knew all too well even if she didn’t look like his own grandmother. Now, Kyrano, another name albeit one whose owner he hadn’t seen in too long, with a different face but the same intensity about him.

“Dearie?” Mrs Tracy asked again. “Oh, what a mess. He’s as white as a sheet, Kyrano.”

Something reminiscent of smelling salts wafted under his nose and he spluttered.

“You’re bleeding, sir,” the man said matter-of-factly. “Allow me.”

Scott had forgotten about the broken bottles he’d been wrestling amongst with Other-Scott, but now the man had mentioned it, he could feel the sting of glass embedded in his arms. No permission was sought before a gentle yet firm hand wrapped around a glass-free section of his arm, holding it in place as a pair of tweezers were produced. He was no stranger to medical attention, and while he didn’t know the man – Other-Kyrano, apparently, for all that he clearly wasn’t English, and probably couldn’t trump Scott in a fight – he did at least know the procedure for removing foreign bodies from open wounds and watched like a hawk as the man more or less followed the methods he would have expected.

“Please, drink your tea,” Other-Kyrano asked once a nasty, stinging liquid – disinfectant was horrible stuff and Scott would never like it – had been applied and bandages carefully wrapped around the worst of the wounds. “You might find it helpful.” A second cup of tea replaced the smashed remains of the old one, as Other-Kyrano efficiently cleaned up the mess.

How was tea supposed to help? Lady Penelope might insist as such sometimes, but Scott would much rather a strong coffee chock full of caffeine. Still, Mrs Tracy was looking at him with a worried look on his face, and Grandma would murder him for defying or otherwise offending an elderly lady who had done him no harm. He cautiously pulled the cup closer to him, and was startled to discover it wasn’t an ‘Assam Blend’, or whatever other fancy teas Lady Penelope liked to serve up. It was herbal, and surprisingly delicious, he discovered after his first tentative sip.

“Kyrano serves wonderful tea,” Mrs Tracy told him, sitting down across the table from him. She had her own cup of steaming liquid in front of her, and sipped at it delicately. “Now, dear, I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name?” Scott paused, taking another tentative sip of the tea to buy himself another moment to think. Should he give them his name? He didn’t know what they already knew. Was it worth a lie? No, he’d never be able to keep it up.

“Scott,” he admitted.

“Oh my,” Mrs Tracy said. “What a coincidence. That’s the name of my eldest grandson.” Scott’s gut churned unpleasantly, and he put the cup down before he dropped that one, too. “Oh, you even look the same. Isn’t that strange?”

Strange was one word to describe what was going on. Suspicious was another.

“You’re the fella that punched Scott?” A young man barged into the room. He had pale blond hair and light blue eyes that should have made him attractive, except he seemed to have a permanent frown etched into his face. “What gave you the right?” Scott matched his glare with one of his own as the young man – barely an adult at all, if he had to guess an age – stormed up to him.

“Alan!” Tin-Tin was there, resting a hand on his arm. “Please, calm yourself.”

Another familiar name, and now that he’d heard it Scott found himself instantly drawing parallels between the man and his youngest brother. There must have been at least five years between them, but Scott could see Alan looking like that man in a few years, although hopefully without the frown.

“But, Tin-Tin!” Other-Alan protested. “Scott’s face is bruised. I can’t just let that go!” He even had the same personality, a rigid sense of right and wrong with little ability to see the other person’s side, and a reluctance to acknowledge that black and white was joined by a large span of grey.

“Your brother can fight his own battles, Alan,” Tin-Tin soothed. “I’m sure it was all just a misunderstanding.”

“What about Dad’s nose?” Other-Alan demanded. “You can’t expect me to…”

Scott tuned out the argument at that. Dad. He tried not to be a petty person, but there were times when he couldn’t quite prevent envy bubbling up when he heard other people taking about their Dads, taking them for granted as though they’d always be there. Over the years he’d got better at smothering it, but this was a man named Alan, with a brother named Scott, and a grandmother called Mrs Tracy, and they had their Dad.

He’d broken their Dad’s nose when he’d tried to stop him attacking one of his sons. If that had happened to his Dad – if Dad was still around to break up fights on their behalf, no matter how unwelcome the gesture would have been in the moment – he’d be fuming, too. He wasn’t going to apologise though. Not now, when he didn’t know where he was, who he was with, or where his brothers were. He didn’t even know what these people planned to do with him, regardless of whether or not his presence in their home was intentional on their behalf.

“Leave it, Alan.” The blond man’s tirade was cut off by none other than Other-Scott – now confirmed to actually be a Scott himself – as he walked into the room. “Is there any apple pie left, Grandma?”

“Oh, yes, dear,” Mrs Tracy assured him. “Take a seat and I’ll bring some over.”

“Thanks,” Other-Scott said, pulling up a chair a couple away from Scott. His face was bruised, as Other-Alan had said, a beautiful darkening along his cheekbone and narrowly missing his eye. Other-Kyrano set a cup of tea in front of him, which he accepted gratefully and drank without hesitation.

“But, Scott!” Other-Alan complained, and his brother sighed.

“That’s enough, Alan,” he said, tearing into the plate of apple pie his grandmother placed in front of him. “Leave it.”

Other-Alan caved, albeit with obvious bad grace, and stalked out from the room. Scott watched him go. Part of him was glad that the younger man was being openly hostile – at least he knew where, exactly, he stood with him. Other-Scott was less clear, patched up from their scuffle and now sat at the same table, devouring his grandmother’s apple pie. Suspicious glances remained, but there was no open hostility.

The door opened again, and Other-Alan re-entered followed by the two young men from the infirmary, and-

A second teacup smashed onto the table.

“Oh dear!” Mrs Tracy cried, hurrying over to him. Other-Kyrano quickly swept up the remains as she took hold of his hand. “Scott, dear, are you alright?”

“Scott?” one of the men asked. He thought it might have been Other-Scott.

“Oh, Jeff, are you sure there’s nothing wrong with him?” Mrs Tracy was asking. “This is the second turn he’s had in as many minutes! Oh, look at him, he’s gone as white as a sheet again, Kyrano.”

Scott barely heard them. The man who had just entered the room had the obvious signs of a broken nose, identifying him as Other-Alan’s Dad. He also had salt and pepper hair, more salt than pepper, and a receding hairline. Steel eyes fixed on him sharply, hard and unforgiving, and a five o’clock shadow did nothing to hide the dimples in his cheeks. This was the same man that had restrained him, and while a glimpse in his periphery hadn’t been enough to cause recognition, now that Scott could see him properly he looked like Dad – an older version of Dad, but then he hadn’t seen Dad since he was nineteen. No doubt, if Dad was still with them, he’d look very similar to the man in front of him.

This had gone beyond simple words like weird and suspicious. Impossible sounded more like it.

“His medical results all came back clear, Grandma,” the brown-haired man from the infirmary assured her, squatting down in front of him and shining a penlight into his eyes. He recoiled from the bright light, tearing his gaze away from Not-Dad – it couldn’t be Dad, Dad was gone – to frown at him.

“Did you call him Scott?” the ginger man asked, walking over to the table and slotting himself in a chair between him and Other-Scott.

“That is my name,” he said before anyone else could speak up. A hush fell over the room, broken by Other-Kyrano setting a third cup of tea in front of him.

“Drink,” the man said. “It will help.”

“Your name is Scott?” Other-Alan demanded. “But-”

“That’s enough, Alan,” Not-Dad interrupted. The blond frowned, but obeyed. “Scott, is it?”

“That’s what I said,” Scott retorted, taking a sip of the fresh drink. As Other-Kyrano said, it did help. Somehow.

“Scott..?” Not-Dad trailed off expectantly. Surrounded by too many familiar names, Scott decided against answering. He took a longer drink, ignoring the patriarch of the family in favour of assessing the rest of the room. Other-Alan and Other-Scott he already had some measure of, the former more so than the latter. Mrs Tracy was a kind enough lady, and Tin-Tin seemed of a similar temperament. Other-Kyrano was difficult to read, but his focus was the two men whose names he had yet to hear.

The ginger noticed his scrutiny, returning it in kind. There was something familiar about him, but Scott batted away the notion. He was simply off-balance at the number of familiar names and faces already – that was no reason to start looking for more connections where there were none. No matter now much the warm brown eyes of the two as-yet unnamed men reminded him of two of his brothers.

Not-Dad bristled when it became apparent that he wouldn’t give his name.

“I’d like to know, who, exactly, is trespassing in my home,” he said. Clearly the man was used to being obeyed.

“I’d like to know how, exactly, I got here, and where my family are,” he retorted.

“You don’t know how you got here?” the brown-haired man asked, surprised.

“Virgil,” Not-Dad warned. The third teacup was spared the fate of the previous two purely by being on the table when Scott’s grip slacked.

“No,” he said firmly, powering through the unpleasant sensation dousing him again before Mrs Tracy commented on another ‘turn’. “I don’t. I don’t know where ‘here’ is, either.”

“But how could you get here without knowing?” the newly dubbed Other-Virgil asked. “None of us brought you here.”

Scott didn’t bother responding, draining the cup of tea before any more unpleasant surprises could befall it and standing up.

“Thanks for the tea,” he said to Other-Kyrano, “and the apple pie,” he continued to Mrs Tracy, ignoring Not-Dad as he pushed the chair under the table.

“Dear, are you sure you’re alright?” Mrs Tracy fussed. He wasn’t, but he didn’t tell her that. Instead he gave a short nod before choosing a door at random and walking through it, ignoring a protest from Not-Dad.

A corridor greeted him, with a neat row of doors on one side and a branch off to the left leading to who knew what.

“Now look here.” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, and he was halfway to removing it forcibly before placing the voice. Having already broken Not-Dad’s nose, thereby earning the wrath of at least one member of the family, it was probably not a good idea to injure the man further. It didn’t stop him shrugging him off, however. “I don’t want you walking around our home unsupervised, young man.”

“Then supervise me,” he retorted.

“I intend to.” A hand returned to his shoulder – lightly, this time, Not-Dad clearly learning his lesson – and steered him towards what now looked a lot like an elevator from those old, vintage films Grandma occasionally put on even though they were from before her time, or so she claimed. Neither he nor any of his brothers were brave enough to dispute it. “Gordon, I want everyone in the lounge. Let’s start from the beginning.”

“Yes, Father,” the ginger man said – Scott hadn’t even noticed him behind Not-Dad – and tried very hard not to react to the name, even though the situation had flown past anything anyone could classify as a coincidence at this point. Scott, Virgil, Gordon, Alan… all they were missing was a John.

Not-Dad gestured for him to enter the elevator, ignoring what seemed to be a perfectly serviceable flight of stairs, and he did so with trepidation, watching metal shutters slide across sharply before a jerk beneath their feet had them rising.

“Jeff Tracy,” Not-Dad said suddenly. Scott glanced at him as the elevator stopped moving and the metal shutters opened with a clatter. “Call me Mr Tracy.” His cool, unpersonable approach was nothing like how Scott remembered Dad, and that helped, a little. He didn’t intend on calling him anything, though. Not until he knew why there was a clone of his father, and of himself, in this strange house.

Chapter 3>>>

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #jeff tracy #grandma tracy #tin-tin kyrano #kyrano #alan tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #long way from home

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dovechim · 6 years ago

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a remedy for mondays 01 (m)

➾ 11.2k

➾ summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

➾ warnings: impregnation kink (all that jazz, u guys should know by now), brief mention of pregnancy termination, future smut

➾ a/n: this is written purely for fun & i hope you can understand my humour!!! please don’t go having babies just for some time off work. by the time i post this, it will be monday where i live. i hope this brings you all some joy :-)

ps: thank you to @jimlingss, who always hears my crazy ideas out and encourages me to go for them. heck, sometimes she even brings it out of me. idk where i would be without you :”D

You hate this.

The saying goes: work to live, not live to work. But at this rate, you’d rather just not exist at all if you have to continue work at this god.darn.fucking.job.

All around you, people are huddled into their seats, heads bowed below the partition that separates the desks. Frankly, you think this whole open-plan office thing is just bullshit. Who the fuck wants to make eye contact with Jeon Jeongguk when he’s picking his nose in the middle of editing a spreadsheet?

Not you, that’s who.

You sink even lower down in your seat as you continue to stare your screen with a pounding headache. The numerous open windows on your desktop are just mocking you at this point. The morning seems to be crawling by. Usually, you ration out your morning coffee and breakfast to keep you going; so your morning goes a little something like this: arrive 8.30am, check emails, get water from the pantry and fuck about while your bosses aren’t here yet till 9.15am. Reply to some emails till about 9.45am, then sit in a daze till it’s 10am and time for you to drink your morning espresso and nibble at the small bun you bought from the bakery nearby.

This usually gets you to about 11am, only an hour more to go till lunch.

A job in the public service is perceived to be prestigious by most; so you suppose you should be thankful for your job dealing with family policy. But what outsiders don’t realise is that working in a governmental organisation as the utmost bottom rung absolutely sucks. There are so many standard operation procedures for nearly every single fucking thing, even emails to senior management needs to be vetted by someone in a higher position than you. As a result, things get done very slowly and even if they do get through to senior management, it might just get rejected because they decide that it’s not good enough. Then the work comes all the way back to you, and the whole dreary process starts again.

Not to mention your asshole boss. Bae Joohyun. Senior Director. She has a notorious reputation throughout the entire department for being a hell witch from Satan’s posse. In her meetings she demands utter silence from everyone other than the presenter; sneezes and coughs or pen clicks and typing are strictly forbidden.

Technically, she isn’t your direct superior, and you don’t work super closely with her, but she has this mandate that all leave requests for the entire department have to be approved by her. You’ve submitted requests 5 times in the past year, none of which have gone through. As a result you haven’t taken a day off in a good three years since you started working here. You still remember that one time she rejected your medical leave and called you to her desk. You’d been nursing a terrible flu, your complexion washed out and almost falling off your feet. Looking in the mirror that morning had been a complete shock. You thought a zombie was staring back at you.

Bae Joohyun had narrowed her eyes at you. “What’s wrong with you that you need to take emergency medical leave, _____?”

“I-it’s this cold, ma’am,” your voice was nasal and stuck in your throat.

Bae Joohyun had rolled her eyes and motioned for you to speak up. “I can’t hear you, stop mumbling for heaven’s sake!”

“I have a cold, ma’am! Has been so for the past three days,” you sniffled and pressed a tissue to your nose.

“A cold?” Bae Joohyun raised an eyebrow sceptically. “You seem fine to me. You look the same as you usually do. Get back to work.”

Sometimes you feel like this company, in all its pro-family views, treats married employees with children better.

The resentment grows inside you as you tap on your keyboard harder and harder, earning you a timid glance from Jeon Jeongguk opposite you. But you ignore him, continuing to type out a reply to someone who somehow failed to read your previous email and continued to ask the exact same questions.

“______?”

You absolutely hate it when someone approaches you from the back in your blind spot and startles you like this. Forcing a smile on your face, you sit up straighter in your chair and turn around. It’s Taehyung from the Baby Bonus Team, and he’s holding a folder with a smile on his face.

“Morning, ______!” He chirps with a sunny expression, and you can barely muster enough energy to greet him back, let alone match his level of enthusiasm on a Monday morning. “Could I just trouble you to update this for me? It’s just our operations manual for the Baby Bonus Team that hasn’t been touched in like… ages. I just need the HR section updated. Is that ok?”

Before you can even reply, Taehyung places a folder on your desk and his email appears on your screen, and he’s off. It’s not a secret that Taehyung loves his job to pieces. He loves children, loves babies, and loves it that he’s doing his part to contribute to the nation’s falling birth rate.

Well, not likethat,since you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend.

But everyone else here seems to love children. Over lunch with your team, all they do is exchange pictures of their children, their friends’ children, or some random baby from Facebook and coo over how chubby and cute they are. You stopped going to lunch with them after Mingyu from Pre-Schools team showed everyone a picture of his niece in a soiled diaper.

Most of your older coworkers who are married with their own families have pictures of their children on their desks. You’re forced to stare at these pictures with the resentment bubbling up inside you as you listen to their latest rant about how your proposal is too skimpy, lacks real research, that email of yours is poorly worded, needs to be recalled etc; so can anyone really blame you when you’re unable to dredge up even the slightest bit of adoration for those grubby faced gremlins?

Clicking open Taehyung’s email and finding the document he attached, you scroll down to the section he mentioned. You realise that he was being modest when he said that it needed an update. The whole fucking section comprises of just a single sentence, and you’ll probably have to write it from scratch.

Sighing through your nose, you click open an internet browser and do a quick google search for the general HR benefits for expecting women and their partners. You also open up the intranet to take a look at your own company’s mandates, which seem to be quite a whole lot more substantial than the general ones (which is only natural since your organisation is so pro-family in its viewpoints). 16 weeks of paid maternity leave, for a start.

Good god. 16 whole weeks? That’s practically 4 months. That’s almost half a year!!!

Obviously you know that having a baby wrecks the mother’s body, and is a major life change; that’s why they need that much leave time. But right now the concept of not having to go to work for that amount of time is simply blowing your mind. Especially since it feels as if you’ve been working non-stop for as long as you can remember.

On top of the 16 weeks is increased medical leave that can be taken any time before the baby is born. Your company is incredibly sympathetic towards pregnant women, which is only natural considering the line of work that you do in family planning. In fact, you know of a few colleagues from the Baby Bonus Team who took almost a whole month of medical leave, spread out, before they had their babies.

Not to mention the actual baby bonus itself.

Curious, you click back to Taehyung’s document and scroll up to the section on Baby Bonus. You scan through and gather that it comprises of a cash gift of $8,000 to $10,000, on top of several other schemes such as a savings account with the amount matched by the government. The total amount of cash receivable just for having one child is listed at the bottom of the page.

You sit back in your chair with a sharp breath. You never realised it was this lucrative to have a baby. Imagine receiving free money from the government, and having all that paid time off. All you need to do is just pop out one (1) baby, and that’s it. You can suck the government dry if you devote the rest of your life to being a baby making machine. See what Bae Joohyun has to say when you slam your maternity leave application on her desk.

The thought makes you smirk triumphantly.

But a moment later, the triumph fades as you remember your very, very single self. Without a boyfriend to knock you up, there’s no way this scheme would work.

Sighing, you shake your head to get rid of all the useless fantasies as you get back to work.

“Hey, _____. Meet our new joiner,” Jeongguk’s voice stirs you from the zoned out state you’re in, frantically typing away.

It’s well after lunch now; somehow the time had flown past while you were working on Taehyung’s document.

You look up to meet Jeongguk’s eyes, and then your gaze shifts to the slightly shorter man beside him. He is wearing a large pair of black glasses that cover nearly half his face; his blonde hair is parted down the middle and neatly slicked back. This man can’t even meet your eyes; he gives you a nervous little smile but his gaze is off, fixed somewhere on your shoulder. His white dress shirt is tucked in neatly to his black dress pants, but he is constantly fidgeting.

“Park Jimin. Welcome to the team, buddy,” Jeongguk slaps Jimin on the shoulder with a grin. “You’re sitting beside me.”

“Welcome, nice to meet you,” you smile and nod at him, but otherwise remain seated. No one can or will distract you from this document. You need to finish this by today, or else you’ll have to bring it home to work on it.

Park Jimin nods shyly as Jeongguk shows him to his seat. With this current arrangement, it means that the three of you are all facing each other in this cluster of desks. Sighing internally, you watch Jimin take his seat and arrange his things, see him glance shyly at you from behind his enormous glasses before his eyes dart away and he hides behind his desktop.

What a weird guy. He hasn’t said a single thing. Whatever. You turn back and resume typing, but then your phone chimes with an email notification.

CONGRATULATIONS!!! YOU HAVE WON MEET AND GREET PASSES TO MEET agust d TOMORROW!!!

Your heart skips a beat and you abandon typing just to open the email. You bid for these meet and greet passes months ago when you bought tickets to see your favourite rapper in concert. No news had resulted in you concluding that you hadn’t won after all, and you were contented with the chance just to see agust d in real life.

But now…

You scroll down to look at the details of the meet and greet.

24 September 2019, from 4pm (please see your specific timeslot on your attached passes)

Each meet and greet session comprises of: an up close, INTIMATE, one on one opportunity to chat and take photos with agust d, lasting for 15 minutes

Your heart sinks as you check the time on your pass. You end work only at 6pm, and when you’d bought the tickets you thought it’d be fine for you to go straight after work since the concert only starts at 7pm. There’s no way you’ll be able to take half day leave to attend the meet and greet. There’s no way Bae Joohyun would let you.

Sitting back in your seat in despair, feeling the angry tears well up in your eyes and the frustration cloud your chest, you don’t notice a pair of meek eyes behind black glasses peek out behind the desktop.

All that’s going through your head is: there has to be a way, there has to be a way.

There’s no way you’re letting these passes go to waste just like that. There’s no way you’re not meeting agust d just because Bae Joohyun has a stick up her ass.

Tuesday morning finds you at Bae Joohyun’s desk with a leave application filled out. You carefully set it on her desk, knowing full well that she comes in at 9.30am on the dot every day.

Rumour has it that she colour codes her outfits based on her mood that day. As you slink back to your desk, you catch a glance of her clad fully in black, striding powerfully into the office in her black pumps.

Your heart sinks as Jeongguk sings out a cheerful good morning to you and Park Jimin, whom you hadn’t even noticed was already at his desk.

“Morning, Jeongguk,” you mutter under your breath. “Morning to you too, Jimin.”

The newcomer does nothing more than nod at you as he ducks back behind his computer. But today you don’t have the bandwidth to wonder about him as you click over to Taehyung’s email about the document from yesterday.

“Hey, aren’t you going to see agust d tonight?” Jeongguk sits up straighter.

“Yeah, why?” Your reply comes clipped, already in a bad mood just from anticipating your rejected leave application.

“I heard the results of the balloting for the meet and greet passes came out yesterday,” Jeongguk’s bright eyes are on your face. “Do you know agust d, Jimin?”

The blonde haired man shrugs as part of his face appears from behind his computer.

“Anyway, I think only like five people got the passes, and as of yesterday night, there are already bidders on the black market willing to pay almost a thousand just for one pass,” Jeongguk continues on.

“Huh, really? Who’d be that crazy to pay that much money?” You muse, looking at your phone.

“Right?” Jeongguk sighs dramatically. You know he’d be extra salty if you told him you won passes to the meet and greet. You’d already made the mistake of letting slip that you managed to get a VIP ticket, and Jeongguk had sulked for an entire week after that. “I mean, what are the chances anyway? If you think about it, those people who won the passes must be die-hard fans, since you can only win one if you managed to get a VIP ticket. Which die-hard fan would sell their hard won passes like that?”

The conversation tapers off as you reply to some emails, but you can’t help but glance back at your phone. A thousand dollars just for a meet and greet pass. That’s just crazy. The amount of money some people are willing to spend… it almost makes you wonder if you could… sell it since you can’t make it anyway…

No. No. You can’t sell agust d’s love just for a thousand dollars. You wouldn’t even sell it for a million dollars. Shame on you.

Hushed whispers suddenly erupt around you, and Jeongguk hisses like a startled cat.

“Shit, SD’s coming! Fuck, I was in the middle of a game,” Jeongguk scrambles to turn off his phone, muttering under his breath that his teammates are going to kick him off the team next time.

You sit straighter in your seat and turn your head towards the aisle. Sure enough, Bae Joohyun is fast approaching like a hurricane bent on destruction. Her face is as black as her outfit.

“Jimin, since you’re new, just copy what I do. Look at your computer and don’t speak unless spoken to,” Jeongguk’s eyes are wide with fear, but he is frantically typing away on his keyboard, turning to glance at the timid man beside him. “Got it? Don’t show any fear, she can scent it like a shark with blood in the water. No matter what you do, don’t make eye contact with her if she isn’t talking to you.”

When Jimin doesn’t respond, Jeongguk glances hurriedly to the younger man. “Did you hear me?!”

“Y-yes.” It’s the first word you’ve heard this man utter, and it is somewhat strangled and you barely catch it over the rising panic that unfolds around you.

“Who d’you think she’s here for?” Jeongguk whispers to you.

“No idea,” you choke out with a closed throat, even though you have a very good idea who she’s here for.

As Bae Joohyun nears your cluster of desks, she slows down. Her eagle eyes scan the floor where all the employees are huddled at their seats, typing away with hunched shoulders. You can feel her gaze land on you, and you close your eyes briefly to say a prayer for mercy.

“______.”

Your name is uttered into the silence, and Jeongguk’s eyes shift just a fraction to glance at you. They are wide with fear. Beside him, Park Jimin’s eyes dart to yours from behind his thick black glasses. But none of them move.

“Y-yes?” You turn in your chair to face Bae Joohyun.

“You applied for emergency half day leave this pm, am I correct?” The witch herself holds up your leave application form. “Seeing as it’s this last minute, it must be urgent. What’s wrong with you this time?”

It’s dead silent. Everyone is pretending to work at their desks, but you know all too well that what they’re really doing is eavesdropping on this conversation. Well, eavesdropping is too generous a term, considering that this conversation is made fully public.

“I… I’m…” You stutter and stumble over your words, struggling to think of a plausible excuse. Some part of you had hoped for a miracle, prayed to the gods eight times last night that Bae Joohyun would be in a merciful mood this morning and grant you the leave without asking.

You glance at Jeongguk, and by now he’s worked everything out silently in his head. His expression says everything. But he doesn’t dare to even look you in the eye.

Instead of him, you realise that another pair of eyes are watching you instead. Park Jimin’s head is tilted to the side, his eyes are observing your mini panic attack without darting away for once.

“Well? What’s wrong with you, I asked,” Bae Joohyun demands.

You can practically hear the clock ticking off the seconds till her patience runs out. Between that and Park Jimin’s persistent stare, your mind just goes blank, and you utter the first words that come to mind.

“I… I’m having morning sickness!”

“What?” Bae Joohyun’s tone is, for the first time, one of shock. “What did you just say?”

Despite Bae Joohyun’s presence, Taehyung from Baby Bonus has turned around in his seat. “Morning sickness? You don’t mean to say you’re…”

Your eyes dart around wildly all over the place in response to what you think Taehyung is implying. God dammit, if not for his fucking comment, you could have diverted it down a less conspicuous path.

“Pregnant?” Namjoon from HR pipes up. “______, are you pregnant? When were you planning on notifying HR?”

Oh god. Things are moving too fast. Slowly, people are turning around in their chairs and inviting themselves into what should be a private conversation between you and Bae Joohyun. Curious looks are directed your way, and you are tongue tied.

“______, I didn’t know you were married! You’ve been keeping it from us this whole time?” Someone from Pre-Schools, you think his name is Seokjin, exclaims in a chiding tone.

“No!” Your voice bursts out from somewhere. It sounds far away to your ears. “No, I’m not married!! I just had a… a… a one night stand.”

Fuck. You’re digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“A one-night stand?” Bae Joohyun narrows her eyes. Somehow you can see that she doesn’t really buy it. She is scanning your face intently, and if there’s even a shred of uncertainty, she will catch it.

“With him!” Pointing at the one person who’s been silent all this time, you can feel the gazes shift from you. You know what they say about a liar. They always have this compulsive need to supplement their lies with arbitrary details.

But it works, and everyone’s attention is now on Park Jimin. You can see his eyes dart around briefly for a moment before they return to yours. But they don’t seem any more panicked or surprised than they usually do. He is as cool and collected as he always is, and he doesn’t say a word, as usual.

“Damn, you and Park Jimin?” It’s Jeongguk who speaks up this time. “Who would have thought? I mean, the guy just started yesterday, that must have been hell of a welcome party you gave him.”

Several giggles and snickers break out in response to his lewd joke.

“Shut up Jeon, that’s not how pregnancy works,” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “They must have met each other months ago. Is this going to be another HR concern though? Inter-departmental relationships?”

Bae Joohyun glances down her nose at you derisively. “I have no wish to know what you do in your free time. But I must ask, Ms _____, that you inform HR immediately of any condition you have that might affect your ability to work.”

The intimidation wrought by Bae Joohyun is replaced by anger at her words. No wish to know about your personal matters, when she was the one who decided it was appropriate to ask why you need to take leave in front of the whole department? What if this was a real situation and you were facing an unplanned pregnancy? Instead of being offered sympathy and support, you’re faced with judgement. This woman is entirely heartless and should not be the head of a pro-family planning division. Not to mention that discussing your leave application publicly is utterly inappropriate. It’s this thought that gives you the courage to speak.

“So can I be approved?” You look her directly in the eye, throwing your shame out the window. What’s done is done. Since the whole department thinks you got knocked up from a one-night stand with a colleague, you might as well use it to your advantage. “For my half day leave. Can it be approved?”

A few beats of silence follow as Bae Joohyun looks cornered for the first time. There is an unspoken pressure even as people turn back to their desks to continue working. If she turns you down in front of everyone like this, she could quite possibly get reported for discrimination against pregnant women. Though it is unspoken, your shoulders relax as you realise you have the upper hand in this situation.

Bae Joohyun takes a deep breath.

“Fine. Approved.”

Wednesday morning, Jeongguk is an eager puppy trailing after you, begging for pictures and a blow by blow account of the concert.

“Just watch my Instagram story or something, I literally have no voice to talk to you right now,” you roll your eyes. Truth be told, your voice isn’t that bad off, but you just want to bask in that post concert afterglow for a moment.

“What was he like in person? Did you pass him my fan letter?” Jeongguk is relentless this morning, and his never ending chatter makes Park Jimin peek out curiously from behind his computer.

When your eyes meet, you freeze on the spot like a deer in the headlights. On Tuesday you left right after Bae Joohyun approved you, seeing as it was almost lunch time anyway. You decided that after winning a war, one rightly deserves to enjoy a stress free, worryless night out before returning to the battlegrounds once more.

But now that you’re here, it is a whole different story. Park Jimin glances at you wordlessly before resuming typing, and the awkwardness is killing you. You feel bad enough that you implicated him in this whole mess, probably ruined his reputation around here and maybe even giving HR a reason to keep a closer eye on him. But regardless, you probably should talk to the man and attempt to explain things, and at the very least, apologise.

“…ask him when his next mixtape is dropping?” Jeongguk is still at it.

“Hey, um, Jimin? If you have a moment this morning, can I speak to you in private?” You lean to the side to attempt to catch a glimpse of Park Jimin.

There is a slight pause before Jimin’s head appears, and he meets your eye for a moment before looking away again. He nods once before turning his head in the direction of an empty meeting room.

“Woah, should you be doing that in your condition, though?” Jeongguk comments with a lewd smirk even as his eyes lower to your mid-section, and you give him a scathing glare in response as you close your laptop.

“Shut up, Jeon. Just for the record, I ripped up and threw your letter in the trash,” you hiss at him, eliciting a horrified gasp as you follow Jimin to the meeting room.

“So, um…” You start off awkwardly once the door is closed.

Park Jimin is twiddling his thumbs, head bowed shyly and he refuses to make eye contact with you. Now that you think of it, his nerd glasses actually suit him quite well, but it’s just a shame that he’s too painfully shy to actually look anyone in the eye. He is quite a good looking guy, but maybe he has issues with his self-esteem is all.

“I wanted to apologise, first of all. And also explain myself,” you take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess. It’s just that- I… I just haven’t had a fucking break from Bae Joohyun ever since I started working in this fucking place.”

All the resentment just pours right out, and you’d be ashamed of yourself for using vulgarities at the workplace were it not for Park Jimin finally glancing up at you with a tiny smile on his face.

“I heard the rumours about her. So they’re true.” Jimin’s voice is still a little hesitant, wondering how much he should be gossiping about Bae Joohyun with another co-worker who could so easily rat him out and get him in trouble. But then, seeing as you’ve already managed to implicate him within a day of knowing him, how much dirtier can you do him, really? The thought brings a wry smile to his face once more. But then again, it seems like everyone here is more or less united by their intense dislike for Bae Joohyun. You of all people probably dislike her the most.

“True? What kind of rumours did you hear? And from where?” Intrigued by the man whom you’ve exchanged less than two words with before claiming to have had a one-night stand and a resulting pregnancy with, you lean forward in your seat.

Jimin shrugs. “Glassdoor.”

His response catches you off guard, and you are laughing with your hands over your mouth. “Oh my god. Please tell me you read the one where someone spit in her coffee. That was me.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Really? I thought that was by a 54 year old IT engineer.”

“I can’t be putting my real age and designation on there, can I?” You point out.

“Were you the one who bagged dog shit and hid it in her office?” Jimin has that tiny smile again, and you have to admit it’s sort of cute when he comes out of his shell. He is even more handsome when he smiles, brighter and somewhat infectious.

“19 year old marketing intern? Yep, that was me,” you sigh in contentment as you remember rage writing all those Glassdoor reviews after a particularly bad meeting that one week. You didn’t actually do all of those things, but just imagining it and writing public reviews was enough for you to get your imagined revenge.

“ ‘Hid some dog shit in her office so she can be reminded of how shitty her management style is’,” Jimin recites from memory. “You know, I almost withdrew my application because of that review.”

Jimin’s dead serious tone makes you laugh again. The sound of your laughter fills the empty meeting room, and you have to admit that this is the most relaxed and carefree you’ve felt while working here.

But belatedly you realise that you’ve gone very off topic, so you sober up and attempt to try to get things back on track again. “So anyway, about the um… one-night stand thing. We can just lie low for a while and make up some shit later. Tell them the baby didn’t make it or something.”

Jimin nods thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “Or we can say it was a false positive. Less for you to go through since people would be all over you with pity and sympathy if we said that. I don’t think you’d wanna be pretend to be distraught over an imaginary baby.”

“That’s right, you’re a genius!” You marvel the way he just comes up with these ideas so easily. “How did you know about false positives?”

Jimin only shrugs, pushes his glasses up on his nose a little and he seems to be blushing. “I studied biology as an elective back in university.”

There’s a pause of silence before you look him in the eye again. “I really am sorry, you know. For making you go through all this. I kind of just panicked and didn’t think before speaking.”

But Jimin doesn’t seem to be making as big of a deal of it as you are. “Y’know, it’s fine. It ispretty exciting to be accused of having a one-night stand on my very first day. Aside from that, things can only go up, right?’

It takes you a moment or two to realise that he’s making a joke, delivered in that deadpan way of his that betrays his sweet, innocent face. At your harried expression, Jimin breaks the act and giggles, and you nearly slump over with relief.

“So, I guess we have to act like we’re in a relationship too?” Jimin adds as an afterthought.

“It’s up to you, we don’t really have to make it that obvious,” you shrug as you get up from your seat and push the chair back to its original position. “I’m fine with being an unwed mother for a bit. I wouldn’t wanna trouble you any more than I already have. You don’t have to do anything else for me.”

Jimin is silent as he follows your lead toward the door. When the both of you are almost halfway back to your seats, he stops you with a brief clearing of his throat. “It wouldn’t bother me at all.”

You look back at him for a moment, and he just gives you another one of those shy little smiles as he goes back to his desk. For the rest of the afternoon, you find that you don’t really mind having an open office policy, not if it allows you glimpses of cute Park Jimin in his nerd glasses sitting opposite you.

The ruse goes on without a hitch for at least a few weeks. Here and there you get the odd look of curiosity and perhaps a little judgement from a few of the older ladies who tsk behind your back about you being a single unwed mother, but otherwise, things are better than ever. Just knowing that you have the freedom to take medical leave whenever you feel like it has improved your mood greatly, and the other day Namjoon from HR even came to tell you that you can come into work later if the morning sickness is really bothering you.

Most of all, people are also curious about the relationship between you and Park Jimin. Word has spread that he is the father of your pseudo baby by now, but thankfully no one is tactless enough to outright ask if you and Park Jimin are a couple now. Not even Namjoon from HR.

Monday morning comes, and you drag yourself into work, feeling slightly more worse for wear than usual. Every Monday, you have a progress meeting with your immediate superior that always leaves you in a bad mood after. It’s the same old tirade; getting piled with things that others have no time for, having previously submitted proposals rejected and being asked to redo them.

Today after the meeting, Jimin comes up to you just as you’re downing your fourth cup of coffee before 10am. He has a slightly anxious look on his face, one that’s out of place on his usual calm and composed self.

“Do you have a minute? We need to talk. Now.” Jimin turns immediately and starts walking towards the nearest meeting room, and in spite of yourself, your eyes are drawn to his ass in those pants. It almost makes up for the earful you got from your manager this morning. Almost.

“We’re in trouble,” Jimin says once you close the door to the meeting room. He is seated with his laptop open in front of him.

“What happened? Is it Taehyung from Baby Bonus again? I swear, if he accidentally deleted the whole archive, I’m going to shove a chair up his ass-“

“No, no it’s not about work,” Jimin swallows hard as he types something and turns his laptop to face you. “Over the weekend, someone wrote on my wall. They said- they wrote- just… just see for yourself.”

“Oh my god.” You hand flies to your mouth as horror slams into your gut. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill that stupid punk with my own two hands. Delete it now!!!”

“That’s not the point,” Jimin’s voice sounds strangled as he directs your attention to the comments. “That’s my Granny. She saw it.”

The full extent of the damage done doesn’t hit you until you read Park JungMin’s comment.

“What was your granny doing up at freaking 5am???” You hiss in anger, poking Jimin’s shoulder.

“I don’t know- she’s an old person! She probably couldn’t sleep!” Jimin snaps back.

“Why didn’t you delete it immediately after you saw it!?” You accuse Jimin, pointing a finger at him. “None of this would have happened if you just deleted the post!!!”

“I only saw it this morning, for your information,” Jimin turns his head away from you and crosses his arms. “Forgive me for having a normal sleep schedule.”

“Fucking Jeon Jeongguk, I’ll kill him, I really will,” you mutter as you start to pace back and forth, already contemplating the numerous ways in which you can torture him.

“What are we going to do?” Jimin’s hands hover nervously over his laptop. “Granny will be so disappointed if she finds out it’s a lie. Maybe we should just come clean.”

You whirl around in indignance. “We can’t do that!!! It’s far too soon, if the truth comes out now, everyone will know I was just faking it. We need to wait at least three months. I researched, that’s the most likely time for a woman to have a miscarriage. Why did you have to add your grandmother on Facebook??”

“Hey-! She just wants updates on my life because she lives all the way in Busan!!” Jimin looks affronted when you mention his granny like that. “And if we’re playing the blame game here, if it weren’t for your concert, none of this would have happened in the first place.”

“That was agust d,” you say simply, as if it explains everything. “And that’s not the point. You have to tell your granny that it’s all a lie and tell her to keep it to herself.”

“But what am I supposed to say?” Jimin whines, his bottom lip jutting out and you swear you almost see him stamp his foot like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“I don’t know, anything! Make something up!” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“She has a weak heart, she can’t take it,” Jimin insists as he stands up and crosses his arms. “She’ll keel over in shock if I tell her there’s no baby. And she told me she’s already booked on the first flight to Seoul. You have to take responsibility.”

The absurdity of this situation means that you can’t decide if you should laugh or cry. “Well what do you want me to do? I can’t just magic a baby into my stomach like that!”

Jimin stays silent, and the implication dawns on you.

“No way. You’re insane. You can’t possibly mean that we should-“

“She wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow night.” Jimin says finally, his eyes now pleading. “She just wants to meet you. We don’t have to tell her that there’s no baby yet. Please?”

Oh. Well, for a second there, you thought Park Jimin was about to suggest something else entirely.

“It’s just one dinner,” Park Jimin pleads eagerly.

Your head is pounding, and the stress of the entire morning has caught up with you. Everything is too overwhelming, things are moving too fast and you’re too tired to argue with him any longer.

“Fine. Just one dinner. After that, we’re coming clean with Granny.” You fix him with a meaningful stare as his face lights up in glee.

“I promise!” Park Jimin grins as he claps his hands together. “Oh and ______... you might want to go easy on the coffee there. Pregnant women can’t have too much caffeine.”

This is ridiculous.

Just thinking that you could be curled up at home with a nice glass of wine in bed, instead of standing nervously outside some stranger’s house makes you more huffy and annoyed than usual.

Jimin beside you shoots you a look, and you roll your eyes.

“Did you hear me? Or do I have to repeat the entire story of how we met and ended up secretly dating for five months again?” Jimin nudges you in the ribs with his elbow.

“When I said make something up, I didn’t think you were going to become a scriptwriter for Marvel,” you roll your eyes back at him. “I’m just gonna let you do the talking. Ok? If they direct any tricky questions my way, I’ll just pretend I need to puke.”

Jimin sighs a long suffering sigh as he reaches for his keys. He always envisioned the first time he brought a girl home to meet his family as a wholesome affair. He imagined himself to be feeling over the moon, a little nervous but that was to be expected, and most of all, irrevocably in love with the woman standing at his side. Taking a glance at you now, Jimin can’t say this situation is ideal.

But hey, when life gives you lemons, right?

He opens the door and leads the way in, only to be accosted by a hug from his Granny having made it only about five steps in. Her comforting embrace and familiarity makes him relax again, and he hugs her back tightly.

“Granny! I missed you! How was the flight? Does your back hurt? You should have rested more! You should have let me pick you up at the airport,” Jimin says in a chiding tone as he places an arm around her, trying to steer her towards the living room area to take a seat.

But the stubborn old woman refuses with a smile that lights up her entire face when she catches a glimpse of you. “Ah, this must be ______! She looks so pretty! Too good for our little Jimin, I must say. Come in, come in!!! Take a seat and take a load off!!! You must be tired after working the entire day, and with the baby too.”

You can barely keep yourself from wincing when she mentions the baby, but otherwise, Jimin’s Granny is a very pleasant person. She exudes an aura of warmth and you feel at home with her immediately. Her compliments make you soft; and she seems to be incredibly genuine about them too. For the next five minutes, all she does is admire you; how smooth your hands are, how good your complexion is, how smart, kind and gentle you look, and also my oh my our little Park Jimin has managed to snag such a professional for a girlfriend.

“Granny, you’re embarrassing her,” Jimin mutters with a rosy blush spread across his cheeks as he stands beside the old woman. “And me as well.”

“Nonsense,” Granny chides Jimin as she turns to you with a smile that wrinkles at the corners of her mouth. “This is the first time our little Jimin has brought a girl home, you see. We were all worried that he was… you know, batting for the other team, which would be perfectly fine, but…”

“Granny!!!” Jimin actually does stomp his foot and cross his arms. The tips of his ears are red, the blush on his cheeks is prominent. “Granny, I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

It seems like Jimin knows exactly what works on Granny, because she turns around immediately and pats Jimin’s cheek. “Alright, alright puppy. We can eat now. Come, _____, you must be hungry too now that you’re eating for two. I asked Jimin about your favourites, I hope you like them.”

You glance questioningly at Jimin for a moment over Granny’s head as the two of you follow her to the dining table and have a seat opposite each other. While Granny’s warmth is nothing but welcoming, you can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. This, at least, is not what you were expecting. Granny seems perfectly fine with the notion of you being pregnant with Jimin’s child without getting married first. Perhaps society is shedding its traditionalist viewpoints and you just hadn’t realised it.

“You know dear, when Jimin told me the news, I was so overjoyed,” Granny says with a wistful smile on her face. “It’s one of my wishes to see Jimin happy with a girl he loves. And looking at the two of you now, even if I die tomorrow, I’ll be content.”

“Granny!” Jimin admonishes sharply. “You can’t say that! Your health has been getting better, hasn’t it? Are you taking your medicines? Three times a day, like the doctor said!”

Granny pats her grandson’s hand. “I am, puppy, I am. What does an old woman like me have to live for if her only grandson doesn’t even visit her anymore? At least now I’ll have the baby to look forward to. You’ll let me take care of it for you, won’t you?”

This last part she directs to you, and you glance nervously at Jimin. This is most definitely not what you signed up for when you agreed to this dinner. With every passing second, the guilt just piles higher and higher, till you feel like you might have trouble swallowing your food.

“Mrs… Mrs Park,” you say hesitantly, speaking for the first time since you set foot in this house. Pseudo baby or not, it just wouldn’t do to hurt this kind old woman, especially since she seems so excited and happy to meet you.

“Call me Granny, please,” she says as she pushes an extra bowl of rice towards you. “You should have this too.”

“Oh no,” you say automatically. “I’m watching my weight, so I shouldn’t…”

But it was the wrong thing to say. Granny immediately perks up, sitting straight in her seat, her eagle eyes on you. “Watching your weight, dear? Why would you be doing that now? You should be eating well for the baby! Is it this little punk who’s making comments about your weight?”

Granny seizes hold of Jimin’s ear and pulls, and he whimpers in the midst of spooning a giant bite of rice into his mouth.

“NO!” You blurt out in a panic, seeing your coworker’s face screw up in pain. You have to admit that you’ve been in a number of interesting situations with Park Jimin thus far, but something tells you that this isn’t the worst of it just yet. “No, Granny! I- I take it back. I’ll eat.”

Granny lets out a hmph as she releases Jimin’s ear with a warning glance towards her grandson. As Jimin reaches for a juicy looking sparerib, Granny’s chopsticks dart out and intercept him, causing the piece of meat to fall back onto the plate. She then expertly picks it up with her own chopsticks and drops it on top of your rice with a satisfied smile.

Jimin turns to Granny with a pout on his lips, and when your heart skips a tiny, little beat, you know you’re in trouble.

Somehow, bad news always comes on Monday mornings.

Today it comes in the form of Park Jimin, again, as he drags you into a meeting room the moment you finish your meeting with your manager.

“What is it now?” You hiss at him as he locks the door suspiciously. “Do you really need to do that? You know people think we’re like, fucking in here, don’t you? Thanks to your buddy Jeon Jeongguk.”

“Wait, what?” Jimin does a double take. “No, that doesn’t matter. My parents. They want me to marry you.”

“WHAT?” You screech so loudly that Jimin winces and covers his ears. “Tell them no, for fuck’s sake!”

“They already apparently bought an entire plot of land in the baby’s name,” Jimin goes on adding to the bad news as if he were adding fuel to the fire. “It’s in Baby Park’s name.”

“Oh my god.” Your head swirls and you wobble on your feet, and Jimin reaches out to steady you as if you were actually pregnant. You push his hand away with an irritated glare to remind him that all this is just a ruse. One that you’re beginning to seriously regret having cooked up all those weeks ago.

“What are we going to do?” Jimin sighs as he runs a hand through his hair, taking off his glasses for a moment to rub at his temples.

“We?” You exclaim. “What do you mean, we? Why are you talking as if we’re already married? You need to resolve this situation on your own, buddy. It’s not my fault your family likes to jump the gun!”

“What about you then?” Jimin snaps back with a raised eyebrow. “Look, it’s been two months, almost three, and I don’t see you making any plans to hide a watermelon under your clothes or tell people that it’s all just a scheme you cooked up.”

You gasp indignantly. “I was- I was working up to that! You know, coming up with my cover story, setting the stage, all that!”

Park Jimin crosses his arms in disbelief. “Oh really? So you’re planning on coming clean with everyone and telling them you’re not actually pregnant? Is that why you’ve been taking medical leave every week, running to the bathroom to ‘throw up’ every morning that you’re noton leave?”

“Have you been watching me?”

“A little hard not to, considering you sit right opposite me!”

The two of you are panting and staring hard at each other, both wrapped up in your own anger.

“Look, I’ll forget everything else. Just tell your parents to sell the land or something. The price of land has gone up recently, I’m sure they can still make a valuable profit if they sell now…”

Jimin’s eyebrow twitches. “Sell the land? When they think it’s for their precious grandchild?”

“There. Is. No. Grandchild,” you spit back at him. “Oh my god. We’re just going in circles here. I need to get back to work. My manager already gave me hell this morning, and I don’t need this from you too.”

You leave him in the meeting room and make your way swiftly back your desk, waking your laptop and checking your emails. A few minutes pass before you can fully calm yourself down and reorientate to what needs to be done. First, you redo that spreadsheet, feeling slightly better once you drown out the entire world and just focus on the numbers and cells in front of you. In fact, you forget about this whole terrible mess for a moment or two.

“Hey, _______?” There is a tap on your shoulder, and you turn around to see your manager hovering behind you. She bends down to squint at your screen, “You’re not still redoing the spreadsheet, are you? Our meeting ended an hour ago, you should be done with that by now!”

“I-I’m sorry, something came up, and I…” your voice is weak compared to hers, and vaguely you can see Park Jimin lean over slightly in his seat. “I’m done with it now. I’ll send it over.”

“Good. And get started on the operations manual. I need it all by 5pm today.” Your manager gives you a pat on the back, starts to walk off, and then hesitates. “I know you’re in a rather… delicate situation, but that shouldn’t affect your ability to work. It’s a busy period of time, _____, and I expect nothing but the best from my team. Got it?”

You swallow hard as you try and return her smile. “Got, it, Manager.”

Turning back to your screen, tears are blurring your vision as you attach the document to an email and send it off. You can feel the curious stares of your coworkers all on you, and you feel more self-conscious than ever. Never mind that pretending to be pregnant is all a ruse. It was supposed to make your life better, give you some breathing space, but you feel more suffocated than ever.

You need some air. Now.

Standing up, you grab your phone and dip your head, striding for the exit quickly so that no one catches the expression on your face. Hopefully, they’ll think you need to puke or something, and not pathetically hide in a corner and cry your eyes out. Thankfully, this morning you had the foresight not to apply any eye makeup, so you can rub your eyes as much as you want.

This corner is actually pretty nice. It’s secluded that no one would accidentally wander in and find a hysterically sobbing woman, yet it’s not too far that you can’t make it back to your desk within five minutes if your manager calls. You wipe your face with the back of your sleeve, taking a deep breath and getting ready to go back and face everything once more, when you notice a pair of loafers standing a few steps away.

“Are you okay?” Park Jimin’s voice is familiar. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… intrude, but you just looked so upset and… she was totally unreasonable. Using that as an excuse to comment on your work ethic. Just unacceptable.”

He is shaking his head with a serious expression on his face, and it makes you laugh suddenly. Jimin looks up in surprise, eyes wide, but then a small smile spreads across his face as well as he tucks his hands into his pockets. It occurs to you that if Park Jimin weren’t here, no one else would have come to check up on you.

“I’m used to it,” you shrug as you check your reflection in your phone screen. “It’s just… I just need to cry once and I’m fine. You weren’t supposed to see this side of me,” you attempt a weak laugh. “You’re only supposed to know the bad bitch side of me.”

“You can still be a bad bitch even if you cry every now and then,” Jimin shrugs as if it’s obvious. “If you’re done crying, can we go for lunch? I’m starving.”

You make Jimin buy you some meat and you wolf it down in front of him as if you really were eating for two. To his benefit, Jimin says nothing and only takes out his wallet when it’s time to pay.

On the way back to the office, feeling decently satisfied and absolutely sure that you have a tiny little food baby (with today’s dress being particularly unforgiving around the midsection), you can’t help but feel a little bit better. Maybe Park Jimin isn’t so bad after all.

“______? Oh my god, ______? Is that you?” A far off voice calls, and you turn back.

And you wish you hadn’t.

Min Yoongi comes striding towards you with a huge grin on his face, waving as if he can’t believe it’s really you.

“Shit shit shit,” you swear under your breath. How much unluckier can this day get?

Jimin looks at you quizzically.

“It’s my bastard ex who cheated on me by getting another girl pregnant,” you whisper to him by way of explanation. “They got married last month but I never responded to their invitation.”

“Oh,” Jimin says, immediately grasping the situation. “I got it. Don’t worry.”

“What?” You look at him in panic, seeing the expression on his face and not liking it one bit. “What are you gonna-“

But it’s too late now for any further conversation, since Min Yoongi is now in earshot. He grins again as he looks you up and down. “_____! What a surprise! Do you work around here?”

“Y-yeah, what a surprise too,” you say weakly.

“I haven’t seen you in ages!” Yoongi’s eyes dart to Jimin standing beside you for a moment, before they fall to your midsection. “But might as well. I wanted to congratulate you on the baby, because what a coincidence, right?”

He hands you a beautifully embossed invitation card with the words ‘Baby Shower’ on it, and you can feel your face draining of all colour. You swear under your breath.

“Oh! And this must be… the father-to-be?” Yoongi somehow doesn’t pick up on the escalating horror on your face, because he turns to Jimin and extends a hand of congratulations. “Congrats, man! How’s it feel? Excited to become a dad?”

Jimin sneaks a quick peek at your horrified expression. “Y-yes! Absolutely…. Um, thrilled, we are.”

At Jimin’s confirmation, Yoongi’s face seems to fall a little, and seeing it makes your heart clench in vindication. Serves that cheating little bastard right.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, ______... let alone serious enough to… have a baby and all that,” Yoongi’s voice mellows a little as he directs his gaze back to you. “I thought you didn’t want to have children… for a while, at least.”

You detect a little bit of regret in Yoongi’s voice, and maybe a little bit of something you can’t quite put your finger on right now. In your five-year long relationship with him, Yoongi always made it clear that he wanted to have children as soon as possible. It was one of the major roadblocks in your relationship, and eventually it became the tipping point that drove him into the arms of another woman who was desperate enough to pop out his babies for him.

Wait a minute. It almost sounds as if Min Yoongi is trying to blame you for making him cheat. All of a sudden, you want to show him how you’ve been living all these months. Completely fine and happy without him. Better off, even. You want to make this cheating bastard realise that you’re not pathetic. You open your mouth in indignation, but before you can say anything, you hear Jimin’s voice.

“It all happened so fast, really,” Jimin shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “When I saw her I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, and you know how life is… We aren’t getting any younger either, so we thought why not try for a baby while we’re at it? She’s perfect for me, and we’re very happy together.”

Jimin does it better than you ever would have been able to. His words are so smooth that even you are convinced that the two of you are in a stable relationship together. Glancing at him, Jimin looks so self-assured and confident that he puts Min Yoongi to shame.

Min Yoongi looks shell shocked. “R-right. Th-that’s really nice, I’m ha-happy for you guys. Congratulations again.”

You have no idea how Jimin is making all of this up, but the look on Min Yoongi’s face is enough. It almost makes up for when you found out about the breakup through the pre-wedding invitations he sent you.

“But we- we haven’t really told anyone yet, so how did you find out?” A frown creases your brow as you mentally run through a list of people who know about this pseudo pregnancy. The whole company, for one. Jimin’s Granny. Jimin’s family. And now Min Yoongi. But the question is, who told Min Yoongi? It’s not like he has any links with Jimin’s family.

“I mean… I saw the bump,” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck as his eyes drop briefly to your waist. “And um… I know you blocked me on social media a while ago. But I just wanted to check in on you and see how you’re doing. And I saw someone post on Jimin’s wall about the baby. So I kind of put two and two together.”

There’s an awkward silence as your hands immediately fold over your waist, your cheeks heating up self-consciously. You can feel Jimin struggle not to burst into laughter beside you, and you surreptitiously elbow him hard in the ribs.

“Anyway, um… I hope you’ll come to the shower,” Yoongi nods at the invitation again. “It’s on Sunday, and feel free to bring Jimin too. I uh… invited your mom too. I mean, it’s just… Your family wanted to know how Yeji and I were getting along with the baby and… we were so close so I figured…”

At this point the humiliation can’t get any worse. So you decide to just cut him off with a formal smile that you hope doesn’t look too forced.

“We’ll be there, Yoongi. See you.”

It’s fine. It’s all fine. Even if Min Yoongi knows, it’s all fine. You can just attend this baby shower, just show your face for about an hour or so and then disappear from his life altogether. And then he won’t even know that you didn’t have a baby.

The very definition of co-workers means that you only see each other on weekdays from 9am to 6pm. But if that’s true, then somehow along the way, you and Jimin had progressed far beyond the point of just being co-workers, to the point that you’re somehow spending half of your weekend with him.

You sigh to yourself as you watch all your friends’ kids run about screaming at the top of your lungs. You’re already beginning to get a headache from all these irritating little gremlins making so much noise. At least you’re not being asked to play with or look after any of the children. Seeing that you and Yoongi had dated for a substantial amount of time, most of the attendees at this baby shower are your mutual friends, and it’s awkward to say the least.

At least you have Park Jimin with you to be your pretend boyfriend slash husband so you won’t seem like the pathetic ex-girlfriend attending her cheater ex-boyfriend’s baby shower for his new wife. So far there haven’t been any difficult questions, just curious looks from your friends whom you haven’t seen in a really long time because you’re just so tied up with work.

“Hey babe, come here! This is really fun,” Jimin shouts to you from one of the game stations, and you have no choice but to stop sulking in the corner like an evil brooding witch.

(One of your friend’s kids had pointed an accusing finger at you the moment you arrived at the shower with a not so thrilled expression on your face.

“Mama, why is the evil witch wearing yellow, mama? Is she here to curse Sleeping Beauty?”)

“This is really fun,” Jimin says again as he pulls the blindfold off with a grin on his face. “Pin the diaper on the baby poo.”

He points to a target board with a questionable looking substance smeared all over the centre of it. The person next in line is blindfolded and trying to pin the diaper in the centre of the board, and there are disappointed yells when he misses.

To his credit, Jimin really does look as if he’s having fun. He’s been the only person to score a point at this game, and he’s acing all the other games: guess the baby food, pin the sperm on the egg, etc etc.

“I’m notpinning the diaper on the baby poo,” you frown at him. Who the hell comes up with these games? “Is there any wine here? God, I need a drink.”

Before you can wander away, Jimin grasps your elbow. “You can’t drink,” he says with a serious, chiding look on his face. “You’re pregnant.”

“No one here knows that, do they?” You roll your eyes at him and sidestep a screaming toddler who is barrelling down the walkway. For someone who was present at the time of conception of this scheme, Park Jimin really is taking this way too seriously.

Jimin sighs and follows you to the beverages table in defeat. If he can’t stop you from drinking, the least he can do is hold up his jacket around you to make sure you don’t get caught. But then, a very rounded, glowing looking pregnant woman suddenly accosts you, and by the look on your face, Jimin surmises that this can only be Yeji, the woman Yoongi cheated on you with.

“Ye-Yeji, you look… um… wonderful!” Your strangled voice gets lost as Yeji envelopes you in a huge hug, forcing you to squeeze up against her bump. “Congratulations!”

The mother-to-be is all smiles, her makeup is perfectly done and there is an ever present glow on her face. She looks like an absolute goddess in her flowy white dress and wavy hair, and its moments like this that remind you that Yoongi left you for someone better.

“I feel wonderful, thank you!” She places a hand on her protruding belly. “Oh, I was just chatting with your mother over here, you haven’t said hi to her have you? She’s been complaining to me that you don’t have time for her anymore!”

Fuck. Your mother. You’ve been avoiding her calls and messages for the past few months, and you give her a weak smile as she comes over with a dark look on her face. It’s not that you’re doing this on purpose, it’s just that the breakup with Yoongi was beyond messy. Everyone’s parents are naturally on their side after a breakup, but somehow your parents remained on Yoongi’s. Every call would be about Yeji’s pregnancy, how their baby room was progressing, how many kicks she felt in a day, all those needless details that only felt like repeated stabs to the heart when you were trying to heal and get on with your life.

“…I’m so glad you could come. When Yoongi told me the news, I was so excited I thought my water was going to break!” Yeji is gesturing excitedly as she gushes to your mother, and you freeze in panic.

She couldn’t have…

“_____, I can’t believe you’re pregnant too!”

Her exclamation has a few of your friends nearby turning around, and a few of them start to clap. Yoongi elbows his way through the crowd, his hair matted with sweat as he pants with exertion.

“Baby, you were supposed to wait for my cue!” He admonishes his wife with a slight frown, but then he kisses her lips when Yeji pouts.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait! It’s all just so exciting, I can’t believe _____ is going to have a baby too! I remember feeling so guilty in my first few months of pregnancy that I could barely sleep…”

“I know, I know, baby,” Yoongi shushes her with a kiss to her forehead. “Anyway, _____ and Jimin, we uh… we prepared something for you. We hope you like it, and uh… _____, I hope it can make up for all the shit I put you through in the past year.”

At this point, you don’t even dare to look at your mother. “Wh-what did you prepare?”

“It’s over there! In front of the photowall,” Yeji claps in excitement. “Go on! Everyone’s waiting!”

Everyone at the party clears a path for you and Jimin to make your way to the colourfully decorated photowall at the front of the party. On the floor in front of it sits a brown cardboard box.

With all eyes on you, you swallow hard and start to make your way to the photowall. Jimin follows behind you, whispering under his breath. “What the fuck is this?”

“Probably another lame party game or something… just play along,” you whisper back, your mind too preoccupied with thinking about how you’re going to explain your pseudo pregnancy to your mother. Knowing her disposition, it’s entirely possible that your father knows about it already, and maybe even your entire extended family, and… oh god-

The moment you step in front of the photowall, someone standing to the side of the box pulls something, and an explosion of balloons and streamers burst from the box. You are quite literally showered in confetti, and when you look up, there are four balloons spelling out the word ‘baby’, and another balloon with ‘congratulations’ on it.

“Congratulations on your baby!!!!” Someone shouts, and people are taking out their phones to take pictures of you and Jimin drenched in confetti. Someone claps, and soon, the entire party is clapping. There are hoots of congratulations, someone proposes a toast, your college friends are almost in tears, your sister is loudly announcing that this should go on Instagram, your mother is half crying and half glowering at you for not telling her sooner, and everyone is talking about you and your non-existent baby.

Beside you, Jimin is equally stunned, but unlike you, he isn’t at a loss for words. He pulls you in close, pretending to pose for the cameras with a jovial smile on his face.

He still has the gall to joke around as he says, “maybe we should have that baby after all.”

In the blink of an eye, things just got very, very out of hand.

Number of people who know about pregnancy

Whole company: (estimated 200 people)

Jimin’s Granny

Jimin’s family

Min Yoongi and wife

Attendees of Yoongi’s baby shower (estimated 50 people)

Your family

Total: 265 people

#bts #bangtan bookclub #bts jimin #bts fics

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kinda-iconic · 5 years ago

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Kinda-iconic’s Choices Masterlist

It’s been quite some time since I last organised my masterlist, so I thought that it may be better for me to start a brand new one that has been updated.

Books I have written for so far include: Bloodbound, Desire and Decorum, Distant Shores, Perfect Match and Veil of Secrets.

The following is an up-to-date version of my masterlist - and I have to admit that there is a shed load of Adrian content, so I do apologise!

Caution: There is a GIF that contains flashing, so please be careful when proceeding - thank you in advance!

Generic (relationships implied)

I’m not a child! (Adrian x MC implied)

Summary: A number of weeks after Gaius’ return, Amy and Lily find themselves constantly passed around the three council members, each one taking different precautions with regards to their safety. To prevent them from coming to any harm, they are often kept in constant isolation, with no connection to the outside world. After a while, they are placed permanently under Jax’s protection, only seeing Adrian and Kamilah when they visited to discuss their next move against the former Vampire King. As the possibility of returning to their apartment becomes unlikely, Amy decides to take matters into her own hands.

Adrian x MC (Amy)

Eternity can Wait

Summary: After a busy evening at the office, the pair head back to Amy’s apartment, though it’s not long before her fears for the future get the better of her, and she begins to ask Adrian how he feels about their future as a couple.

The Hardest Goodbye

Summary: It has been a couple of weeks since the showdown with Vega, and the Council have been doing everything in the power to restore order to the City, starting with the cover-up of the Late Senator’s death. For some time, every clan leader remains hidden from the public eye, watching the city recover from the aftermath of the Feral attacks. Believing that they may uncover something of use against further attacks, Amy accompanies Adrian back to the cabin; though it isn’t long before the past resurfaces.

Thunder

Summary: When a storm envelops the city of New York, Amy and Adrian find themselves reminiscing their childhood fears.

Fail to Prepare, prepare to Fail

Summary: It’s been days since Gaius’ return, and the Council have been doing everything in their power to prevent him from succeeding with his schemes. Knowing that he will not rest until he gets what he desires, Jax enlists the help of Adrian and a rather Reluctant Kamilah to train MC (Amy) and Lily how to fight.

Reminiscent and Reminiscent part 2

Summary: Immediately after the council meeting, the team return to Lily and MC’s (Amy) apartment to reflect on the events of the past few days.

The Truth will out

This was an entry for a 500-word Drabble, so I did not give it a summary. However, if you like angst and characters revealing things that they shouldn’t about other characters, then you’ve come to the right place!

Blue Skies

Summary: As days turn into weeks, Adrian and Amy find themselves spending more time with one another. As the sun sets on another day, the pair find solace in Adrian’s penthouse, watching the sunset from afar. However, it isn’t long before Adrian finds himself thinking about his feelings for his assistant.

Snowflake

Summary: After a long chilly evening at Raines Corp, Adrian and Amy decide to take a late night stroll through Central Park.

Underneath the Mistletoe

Summary: Adrian has never been one for excessive partying - especially at Christmas. However, during the office Christmas party, Adrian and Amy return to his penthouse, where a small surprise lies in store.

Somewhere in the Crowd there’s You

Summary: After an evening at the Office, Adrian and Amy accompany Lily on a night out, though it soon becomes apparent that Adrian is in for more than he thought.

Little Red Bow

Summary: Adrian and Amy celebrate their first Christmas together as a couple, and Amy receives a present that changes her life.

A Cuddle in a Cup

Summary: After a long evening at the office, Adrian and Amy spend their morning in the sanctuary of her apartment.

Eternity doesn’t always mean forever

I don’t really have any words to describe this piece, other than the fact that it’s super duper sad and angsty (Warning: Character Death)

Distraction

I am currently struggling to locate this one, so I’d be very grateful if someone would let me know if they come across it.

Goodbye, My Friend

Summary: After the final battle with Rheya, the group try to come to terms with the loss of a good friend.

It’s Not his Fault

Summary: After a training session in the Shadow Den, Amy gets hurt... and Adrian isn’t happy.

I Think I’m in Trouble

Summary: During a meeting with his campaign team, Adrian gets a phone call from Amy; she thinks that she is being followed. Can he get there in time?

The Best Thing I Never Planned

Summary: After a busy night at the office, Amy returns to her apartment, only to be greeted by Lily, who believes that Amy’s hard work isn’t being appreciated.

The One Date you should Never Forget

Summary: It’s Amy’s Birthday... but has everyone remembered?

You’re all I’ve ever wanted (part I) (part II)

Summary: Christmas arrives in New York, and Adrian and Amy decide to spend their first official Christmas as a couple in the sanctuary of the penthouse.

The Next Chapter (Adrian x MC)

You are my Home (part I)

Summary: Adrian and Amy spend a couple of days in the sanctuary of Adrian’s penthouse. However, when Adrian realises that Amy is sick, he decides to call someone for help. But it isn’t long before their presence leads to a rather startling revelation.

You are my Home (part II)

Summary: Adrian finds it difficult to process the revelation and believes that Amy is not being entirely honest with him. Can Amy and Kamilah convince him that Amy is telling the truth?

Guilt isn’t always a rational thing (part I)

Summary: A couple of months after the reveal, Adrian has a terrible nightmare. He has had many nightmares before; most associated with his past. Soon enough, Adrian is forced to face his worst fears… and his deepest regret.

Guilt isn’t always a rational thing (part II)

Summary: Ever since Amy announced her pregnancy, Adrian has been plagued with nightmares.One night, Adrian has a bad dream; when he is reluctant to talk about his experience, Amy decides to take matters into her own hands.

Truth doesn’t always set you free

Summary: The group head downtown to celebrate Independence Day by watching the fireworks, but when the group are ambushed and Amy is hurt by one of Gaius’ lackeys, Adrian soon takes matters into his own hands - quite literally!

Some things are best kept Secret

Summary: When Adrian hears Amy talking in her sleep, he makes it his mission to try and convince her to tell him what is troubling her. However, after asking her how she knew about ‘The Butcher of Antietam’, Amy soon changes the topic of the conversation, forcing Adrian to admit the severity of his actions.

I’m Sorry that I hurt you (part I) (part II)

Summary: A couple of days after the argument that caused Amy to leave, Adrian heads over to her old apartment with the hope that he is able to reconcile with her. After Lily gives in and allows him to enter, Adrian and Amy decide that, if they are to work out their differences, than they need to be honest with one another.

Everything Comes at a Price (Adrian x MC)

Everything comes at a price

Summary: The mysterious collector has agreed to a deal; the amulet is theirs, so long as Amy grants him with the vision that he desires. Though initially reluctant, Adrian agrees, but it isn’t long before he tries to stop it.

The Awakening Series (Adrian x MC)

The Awakening

Summary: As the city descends into turmoil and hysteria, the Council reconnect to address the mysterious circumstances that surround them. As the tension between Adrian and the Baron mounts, the truth about the Feral attacks is revealed.

The Awakening part 2

Summary: The decision was unanimous. To stop Gaius and his schemes, the council needed to channel a power that could rival Gaius’. The only way this was possible was to uncover the truth surrounding the First Vampire and answer the question that plagued everyone’s mind - could she really still be out there?

The Awakening part 3

Summary continues on from part 2 of ‘The Awakening Series’...

The Awakening part 4

Summary: After the conversation in his office took a personal turn, Adrian and Amy take their time to reflect on the events of the past.

Kamilah x MC (Amy)

Spellbound and Spellbound part II

Summary: After a long day at the office, Kamilah heads over to Amy’s apartment with the intention of treating her to an evening of classical jazz and exotic cuisines. But when she arrives, it soon becomes clear that Amy has other ideas.

It’s not Christmas without Gingerbread

Summary: As the season of festive goodwill approaches and Amy prepares for her first Christmas away from her family, Kamilah tries her hardest to make her feel more at home with the idea of a New York Christmas - even if that meant having to take part in her traditions.

A Terrible Mistake (part I)

Summary: After an argument, Kamilah does something unforgivable, leaving Amy heartbroken.

The Secret Ingredient (part I)

Summary: Amy shows Kamilah just how much she loves baking - this one is literally full of fluffiness!

Desire and Decorum

I wasn’t there for you

Summary: After a long day at the estate, Lady Amelia shows Briar the importance of sentimentality in a person’s life, and how our experiences often shape us into the people that we are. However, during a conversation with her father, she soon realises that, although our pasts are meant to be cherished, we must also learn from them.

Ernest x MC (Amelia)

Until the Very End

Summary: Christmas Eve has arrived at the Edgewater Estate, and the house is preparing to celebrate the festivities. It has been a few months since the wedding of Lady Amelia and Mr Sinclaire and, with a baby on the way, Ernest is trying to do everything in his power to make his wife happy. However, though it is their first Christmas as Husband and Wife, it is also Amelia’s first Christmas without her family.

How shall I bear so much Happiness

Summary: After the birth of their first child, Ernest begins to worry about Amelia’s health and the future of their family.

How do I go on without You

Summary: A few days after the birth of their daughter, Ernest’s worst fears come to pass.

Distant Shores (Edward x F!MC) - Clara

So He’s the Captain?

Summary: Oliver has just revealed who he really is... and now the Navy know that they’re there (a re-write of their escape in Chapter 7).

Perfect Match (Damien x F!MC) - Kai

Just Say Yes

Summary: Damien and Kai have been dating for over a year and, after he is quizzed by Nadia on the topic of his future with her cousin, Damien makes a decision that would change the course of their relationship forever.

Veil of Secrets (Generic)

So...Will you?

Summary: It’s been a couple of months since the birth of Rachel O’Malley and, as the anniversary of Tanner’s death looms over the town, Flynn and Jesse decide to check in on Kate and her baby. After a brief conversation, Kate asks Jesse a very important question.

#choices: stories you play #playchoices #choices masterlist #bloodbound #adrian raines #kamilah sayeed #desire and decorum #ernest sinclaire #distant shores #edward mortemer #perfect match #damien nazario #veil of secrets #updated

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hazbinextgeneration · 4 years ago

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Into The Casino Ch9

The next few days were what she could only describe as complete and utter suspicion. Or more accurate the war of the paper and closets. Lou wasn't kidding when he said there was not one not two but FOUR other closets full of boxes and tots and cabinets full of papers and random date books galore. Cyber had taken Disease up on a favor he owed her and had him help her carry all of the stuff into one big older office Lou has given permission for her to use for the whole thing. The amount of the stacks made her stomach drop but the smile and red eyes assuring her he just couldn't wait to see what great job she would do was enough to get her motivated in fear of any consequences that might've been thrown her way. Thank goodness by what ever miracle she talked him into giving her giant filing cabinets to hold all these massive piles of papers and books. It took her minutes of careful reading of each one before she could even decide which small pile ever growing it would go in. Every couple hours or so Cyber or Disease would bring her some food, which was very much appreciated... But they found the hard way a stressed and overworking woman was not one they'd want to mess with. When Disease accidentally knocked over two piles accidentally mixing them together after spending two whole days rummaging around to get them perfect.

...The angry shout from the frazzled lady and the few white sparks that emanated from her horn was enough for the bumbling serpent to hightail it out of there. She thought Lou was going to send her to an painful second grave when he found out, but to her surprise he was actually rather calm about this whole thing. Even going as far as to lightly scold Disease for ruining her day's work, but she couldn't help but notice the almost excited tone behind all that. And when the next day came Cyber rolled around with her lunch as usually but with the resident witch no less. Midnight if she remembered right. The small fox pulled out a tape measure from no where and forced her to hold still as she measured the length of her horn, and shined a light into her eyes. Before writing something down on a piece of paper she had with her and left without another word. ...When asked Cyber casually shrugged it off. "Eh. Lou's just having her check up on you. No big deal." Well, that wasn't suspicious at all. But she was too tired with all this pile up to even think about what was going on, and so she pushed on with whatever she was doing. She wasn't exactly sure how much time had passed with her emptying boxes, and tots. Putting old dates books on a bookshelf provided to her and stuff the newly alphabetized papers into different drawers. But she noticed Cyber had kept taking certain documents, mostly ones with random and different names written at the bottom of them all. She claimed they were certain deals with clients and business partners Lou had been working for and wouldn't want anything happen to them in fear of loosing good deals. She could kinda understand that, but the fact that they seemed to be making a majority of the whole papers was kinda questionable. Even if he was a demon. Maybe a day or two after that, she was finally done. The benefits of already being dead was that she didn't need a lot of food or sleep, but my gosh did she feel like she could hibernate for a whole year by this point. By now she had long forgotten how long she had been up or when she finished, but she remembered vaguely Cyber patting her on the back and telling her to take a load off. "Lou should swing by to check out everything later. Until then I guess you get a free few hours, Newbie." She didn't need to be told twice. She stumbled to her room and immediately plopped herself into that sweet, sweet bed. Almost instantly falling asleep once she got comfortable. Too bad she wasn't aware of the scheme that was currently being hatched right under her nose almost the whole time. Now. Lou had always prided himself on being a man of ideals. A man of opportunities. When he saw something good he would always find ways to get it, and good luck was always a gamble that seemed to favor him. Sure he had a couple bad deals and things that could've gone better, but a newer and better one always seemed to throw itself at his feet, begging for him to reach out to them and take them in his sweet, sweet grasp! And it wasn't just opportunites he had luck in. Brains, judge of character, not bad looking if he should say so himself~, and of course his many, many wonderful riches. And it just seemed to be getting better and better and BETTER. He was intoxicated on the idea of the power, only brought down by his rational thinking and on occasions Cyber. Already this naïve little horsefly had proven herself useful in more than one way, for one he finally had someone who could take care of all that pesky paper problems and one who could be molded into a weapon. AH! Speaking of the pony- Cyber had kindly been keeping him updated on the whole situation and now seeing the amount of the work put into one simple task...He could barely contain his excitement over how much work she could put into better use, if pushed in the right direction of course. "Well- Fuzzy, did a decent job. Eh, Boss?" Cyber was currently flipping through one of the drawers randomly and when she didn't receive an answer she turned her head over her shoulder to stare at the taller demon. Lou seemed to be staring off into space, one hand behind his back and the other covering a part of his face, his red eyes narrowed in thought. Uh oh. She knew that look all too well. Lou. Was calculating something. He always saw his choices as a gamble. Through the dice right and you get the bigger prize. She just wondered what it was this time. "Uh, Boss? Whatcha thinking about now?" Instead of answering her question he asked a question of his own. Walking towards the bookshelf and glazing his eyes over all the books before taking one out and looking at the cover. ".....Cyber. You observed her. How smart would you say she is? On the IQ level." She stared at him but her brain quickly processed the question asked thanks to what her name referred to and she shrugged. "About average. A little over Disease if I say so." He hummed and put the book back only to randomly pick another. "And IF I were to try a contract?" He turned his head to her. "How would you say she would most likely react?" She stood there silently. Confused at the question but also quickly got the answer for it. "Well...The way she moves and the way she acts, plus with what we know...I don't think she'd really be up to it." She gave him a matter of fact look. "She's not up to date with the modern era just yet, but she's pretty careful about most things surrounding her. I think being roped into a soul binding deal would be the last thing she'd want to do. She'd just see it as another form of prison." His eyes slightly narrowed and looked back to the book. Now this was something different she had seen. He was thinking of a back up plan to the gamble. Sometimes he'd use the back up plan instead of the first plan but what the winner don't know the gambler understands. And he understood the game better than anyone she knew, alive or dead. "What would you say would be her biggest weak points?" "Well, her limited knowledge on modern things and her emotions I would say." ....His lips slowly curled up in a smile. "How long has it been since I last had interest in someone?" Her head tilted, before slowly a look of realization came over her. "About ten years ago. Boss...Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?" His smile widened. "There's more than one way to be legally bound now isn't there?~ Go see to it she has a good view of me before I do anything. I have something I need to take care of." "Are you sure you want to take this route?" She thought of the possibilities in her head. "This seems about five percent more likely to succeed but with what really landed her here in the first place, I don't think she'd be ready to hop back into the saddle so to speak." A chuckle and those red eyes flashed at her. "Five more points is all I need to make it to the top ranks! Trust me. The prize winnings would be to die for!~" *********************************************************************************** It was almost mid noon when she felt something shaking her awake and out of instinct she jumped up and blinked her blurry vision up at the person above her. Light electric blue hair came into view and the face of a metal skinned appeared before her. She stared up at Cyber for a few seconds before her voice came out. "Hey, Newbie. Brought you something curtesy of the boss. I think you'd like it." Something sweet smelling hit her and she tiredly blinked down to the plate she just now noticed Cyber was holding out to her. She blinked and stared at the small round sweet smelling thing on the plate with confusion. "....W-What is it?" "It's called a doughnut. It's kinda like a car tire shaped cake without all the heavy icing. Boss said you probably never had one before and you should have one before Disease ate them all." She smiled and continued to stay on plan. " He acts like a big bad wolf, but if you get to know him, you can find out he can be pretty generous." The fuzzy bed headed pony stared at her, before slowly sitting up and staring at the offering still placed in front of her. ...Slowly taking it from Cyber and giving it a couple more tired but weary blinks. Her nose twitched a couple times still filled with the unfamiliar sweet smell. Cyber stared patiently as Fuzzy took her time picking it up and taking a small nibble off the top of it. Her eyes slightly widened and Cyber smiled when she began eating this new sweet food with vigor. Guess she liked it huh? She must've because it was soon gone and she turned to her with a thankful smile. "T-Thank you." "Hey. Don't thank me. Thank the boss. And speaking of which-" He nodded her heads towards the door. "He's been wanting to see for for a few hours, but he decided to give you a few extra hours sleeping. Wasn't that nice of him?" ....She blinked those purple eyes. "W-Why? D-Did I do something wrong?" "What? Are you kidding me?" She gave a playful smile that came naturally to be honest. She didn't mind help Lou with playing these games. "He and I both thought you did a decent job. Surprised your brain didn't turn to mush." She gave a nod towards the door and turned to walk away. "He's waiting for ya in the office down the hall. Make sure you wear something nice ok?" She rose a brow but if her boss wanted to see her then she had better get up and see exactly what he wanted to talk about. She just hoped it wasn't more paperwork. With a sigh she tossed the blankets off and forced her tired bum up and out of the bed. Ten minutes later she was all prim and proper and heading to where she hoped was where he was waiting for her. When she did come to what she hoped was the door, she took a deep breath to calm herself, reached up and just laid her hands on the door once- It swung open suddenly, and she gave a startled squeak taking a few steps back from it. On the other side was the taller slender form of the plant demon. He smiled down at the frazzled unicorn and chuckled. Before giving a slight bow. "Oh, so sorry. If I would've known that would've happened, I wouldn't have spooked you." He straightened back up and stood aside. "Please. Come in." She stood there for a moment, but slowly and wearily began walking into the room he was holding open. Folding her ears back when she felt those red eyes following her, and when the door closed behind her she looked back to him. He was wearing that same smile of his but it seemed more ...what was the best way to describe it? Studious. She watched silently as he walked past her and gestured to the seat in front of the small desk. She slowly sat down into the seat offered and watched as he walked around and sat down right in front of her. Clasping his hands and giving her that smile. "Now. You are probably wondering why I wanted to speak to you yes?" "...I-..assumed I did something wrong with the work I did." "No, no. Of course not," he assured her in a sweet tone, "The work you displayed was splendid! Exactly what a top notch secretary of mine needs! But I wanted to speak to you about a more....Important topic other than work." He hesitated but eventually asked, "W-What do you mean, Sir?" He was hoping she would say that. So he took a breath and gave her the sweetest most charming smile he could muster. "Miss Amalfia, do you remember how long you've been working for me?" She tilted her head curiously, wracking her brain for the answer. "I-I think almost three months." "And in those three months I couldn't help but notice how marvelous having you around has become.~" She opened her mouth to say thank you but he beat her to it. "If I may say so myself you are quite the rarity down here and someone who could complete many-.."His eyes slightly narrowed. "-many things in my afterlife I have planned and just couldn't ever hope to achieve without you, my dear.~" Her eyes followed him as he adruptly stood from the desk. "...Y-You want to give me a promotion?" He laughed genuinely. "Something along those lines. But no. What I want is far more better than more benefitial to you. No. What Im asking from you, is your unwavering loyalty and affection for me." There was a small silence, as her wide eyes and shocked brain wheeled around in hyper speed as his words rammed around her skull over and over. Processing what he had spewed out at her and he took his in shock chance to walk around the table and stop right next to her. When he shifted his movement she finally snapped her head up and looked at him like he was absolutely crazy. "W-WHAT?!" "You know. Partners. Husband and wife. Joined in unholy matrimony. Whatever term you prefer to use. Shh." Her held a red talon to her mouth before her terrified face even got the chance to speak. "Please. Let me finish. You see- Ever since I laid eyes upon you, I couldn't help but find your presence interesting.~ And I do have an eye for stunning people if I do say so myself. Now before you give a yes or no to my question- " The talon was taken away and he leaned down to her form squished against the chair. "Think about the benefits.~ A roof over your head. Food you wouldn't even imagine on your plate." His hand grabbed the back of the chair and swung her around with a startled squeak to face him. "And of course all the luxories you could ask for....Within reason of course. And of course you'll have me." His grin widened and he reached a hand out to run the length of her left cheek. "I think you'll find that I can be a very generous lover.~ And Im not the worse looking man down here.~" She flinched away from his touch and shrinked down further in the chair. She could feel the walls closing in and him standing right in front of her with those red eyes staring down at her like a spider to a fly...Similar to...She turned her head and closed her eyes to stop staring at the red eyes. "....N-n-no. P-Please." OH! He had her in a corner, now this could go two ways. He could use more force and scare her into it. Or he could play the safe route, which is much more appealing in the long run. So he backed off and straightened back up. Putting on a mock sad face. "Oh my. Perhaps I was too forward in telling you my feelings. Please forgive a foolish man like me." She opened her eyes but didn't look at him. "It wasn't my intention of making you feel so uncomfortable. But I can promise you protection if you want it." ".....yes?" His smile returned. "As my employee you get protection within my establishment as it is, but as my partner. You would get gaurenteed twenty four hour protection all year round.~'' "....T-This isn't h-h-how it's done." "Beg pardon?" She sucked in a shaky breath and swallowed before daring to look up at him. "...T-That isn't how c-c-courting works. Y-You have to give it time." "...Oh. Oh of course! How silly of me to forget one of the most important customs of our times." He had to remember how things were done back at their time. A small set back, but one that could be turned around to his advantage as well. Blow the dice for good luck. And roll- "Please, allow me to start courting you then. Starting with this." With a flip of his hand a small black box appeared in his hand and she looked down to it wearily with confusion before looking back up to him. "...W-What is it?" "A gift. A courting gift to be precise." His thumb flipped open the lid and reveled the small round treasure it held. A small silver band ring with an even smaller rose branded on the front. "Take this as a show of my interest and a show of what I may be able to provide. Of course I don't expect any single thing in return except your blessing to court such a beautiful lady.~" She didn't say anything, but she stared blankly at the little box that was offered, he nudge his hand forward a little....And she slowly took the box from him silently. Not saying a word she slowly looked up at him,...and he gave an almost too sincere smile to it all. What was she supposed to say? Yes? No? Thank you? Which is why she hung her head and sighed. "....Ok. B-But please. Take it slow." "I wouldn't want it any other way. May I escort you to lunch my dear?" He offered his hand out to her with a smile. "Im sure you'll absolutely adore what the cooks threw together. It's to die for.~...Figurtively speaking of course." She still just stood there with a semi confused face ....before reaching out and- And having Lou grab her hand almost instantly and pulled her to her hooves, luckily she didn't drop the small box as he placed her onto his arm and he gave her that same widened smile as he began to lead her away to the door. "Now- Tell me, what exact tastes do you have in wine? Perhaps a fruity cocktail would be more suited for your stomach?" "...W-What's a cocktail?" His laughter echoed throughout the room. ******************************************************************************************* "Well? What's your brilliant analysis, Midnight?" The small witch scowled and looked over her giant book to give it to him. Lou had immediately rushed in as soom as all was set and down and suddenly thought she would know all the answers of the universe right now. Which she didn't! Much less know a lot about the subject as it was you know. But she rolled her eyes and took a break from cooking up the poison she was working on to entertain the smug weed. "Well! If you simply just must know!," she said in a sweet sarcastic tone. "I really haven't found anything really useful beyond what my books already said." Her natural voice came back. "Do I need to give you a run down of everything I already told you?" "Yes, actually that would quite helpful." He smirked. She groaned but rolled her eyes. Leave it to him to be the smarta$$ that would do these things just to annoy people. "Ok. Basically barely anything was jack sqwat known about them!" To make a point she turned behind her and pulled a book out, whirling back around and waving it at him. " You see this? It has endless information on about every creature you could possibly think of. And all it has on magical pretty unicorns is legends and fairytales." To prove her point she opened it and flipped to somewhere in the middle. " Habitates? Unknown. Vaires prefers lucious forest. Lifespan? Unknown. Likes innocent things like children and young maidens. Pure magic. Horns and other parts were used to be made into powerful potions to combat evils. Oh! And look! A whole slew of the recipes and fairytales with princesses!" She flipped a whole bunch of instructions and a couple of pictures before she closed it and stared at him. "Face it. Unless you want me to somehow use her meat to create a hellfire resistant potion, or a lotion to cure diseases, then there's nothing more I can do about anything." A serpent poked his head around the corner. "Someone say my name?" She groaned again. "No. Go back to sleep." "I still can't believe she actually agreed to any of your speels," Cyber rose a brow at the exchange from the wall she was leaning on. She knew it would've been very unlikely for either of his plans to work, but she guessed she shouldn't be too surprised. This was Lou they were talking about. His plans usually worked or partially worked liked now. But he turned to her with a giant smile. "Patience, Cyber. The turtle beat the hare because of it. As does the spider with the fly.~ After all. When one gets a knew toy, you have to break it in gently.~"

All characters except Amalfia belongs to @palettepainter

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split-n-splice · 5 years ago

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*toots party horn* Oh look, an update.

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

31. Aura of Others – 5

Heaving for breath, Shego began to wonder what she was even doing out here in the middle of the damn night. But it would be worth it, Drakken assured her, struggling just as much if not more than her as he strained with his back against the trunk of the stolen station wagon. Her sneakers dug in the gravel as she fought against a vehicle that weighed impossibly too much. She complained about what he’d loaded it up with – bricks? She’d only been joking, but Drakken giggled like a child and swore it was a surprise.

The front wheels rolled over the peak of the incline, they nearly lost their footing, and finally the rest of the vehicle followed as it rocked at the precipice before teetering over. Drakken fell onto his back, hitting his head on the bumper as the car fell away, and Shego stumbled over his arm flailing out for support, tripped by her boozy companion.

She army-crawled forward as she heard the scrub snapping and whipping against the vehicle, loose rock and earth raining down with it, and just barely peered over the edge as Drakken rolled onto his belly to wriggle forward beside her. He was beaming. She didn’t have to look at him to know when she could see the flash of his pearly whites in her peripheral, even in the dark. He was far too close, warm against her side in the chilly night as they lay in the icy mud, peeking down the steep slope in anticipation.

Drakken dug into his back pocket and pulled out a small device – a remote with an antenna and a flip-top protective cap over a red button. “Would you do the honors?” he chuckled as the vehicle tumbled and crashed with a shatter of glass before rolling ever further down the mountainside.

Curiosity urged her to give the alluring red button a push.

He should have warned her the detonation would be bright, but he’d had quite a lot to drink, and she’d had some of his liquor as well, so she was in just a good enough mood not to complain.

A glaring white ball flashed like lightning before a boom like thunder struck her ears.

She squinted and winced, Drakken beside her covering his head as he cackled in delight above the explosion. The tumbling car turned into a rolling ball of flame and molten metal. Watching it blaze a path through the soggy brush and sparse timber, she couldn’t help musing that it looked just like she felt – only she’d yet to combust. She realized she must have been thinking out loud when the man uttered something questioning in reply, but her ears were still ringing from the blast. As she flicked a glance at him, she was sure the curling warmth in the pit of her stomach was worse than the destroyed vehicle meeting its demise below. She desperately wanted to blame the alcohol, but not badly enough to wipe the smile from her face.

“Why blow it up?” she wondered, maybe speaking a little too loudly. “That’s kinda going overboard, isn’t it?”

Drakken shrugged and tore his eyes off her to stare down the trail blazed down the mountainside. “Villainy 101, sister. Destruct buttons destroy evidence,” he said proudly, tucking the remote back into his pocket. “It was a stolen vehicle after all.”

She couldn’t stave off the smirk as she picked herself up onto her knees. “Clever,” she noted with a squeeze of his shoulder. She wiped her hand on his shirt a moment later when she realized her palms were muddy, but her depressed doctor was too drunk and happy now to even grunt unappreciatively at her. “We should scram now. You know, before the fire department shows up.”

The realization flashed in his eyes and his mouth gawped open. “Ah! Quite right, Shego. A very wise suggestion,” he praised awkwardly as he scrambled and slipped his way to his feet. His eyes skewed at her then, looking her over. “You got my jacket dirty.”

Shego looked down to herself, brushing at the mud and filth smeared across her front, and gave him a light shove that nearly sent him stumbling over the edge. “You would’ve gotten it dirty anyway. Look at yourself!” She hugged his warm suede jacket tighter around herself, making note that she’d have to soon get something lined in sherpa for herself – if she even remembered.

Drakken plucked his bottle of liquor from the roadside where he’d left it, which she all but ripped from his hand as he stumbled along next to her. His soft chuckle near her ear was more than enough to warm her as she took a swig. She wasn’t sure who was responsible for their interlocked hands, but hers was heating up and prickling – but he had leather gloves on, so she didn’t worry too much about it and didn’t shake him off when he squeezed her fingers tighter.

Ambling around in the dark, his scent enveloping her no worse than if she were being gagged by one of his shop-rags she’d worried of smelling like earlier in the night, was remarkably agreeable with her even if every inch of her was burning hotter by the second. She knew she was taking a chance by getting so close, and she knew it was a fool’s bet, but she could only err on the side of caution for so long.

Squinting past the bend in the pitted road riddled with potholes and gravel, she could just barely see the driveway leading to Drakken’s safe house, or so she thought anyway. It was a relief that it was in sight. She couldn’t wait to sink into something soft and maybe watch some television until she fell asleep.

As if there was a need to whisper, Drakken’s breath was in her ear again as he leaned precariously close. She hadn’t been paying attention to what he was saying – scheming about something involving bombs, she was pretty sure – but more importantly, when she turned her head, her nose brushed his cheek. She was just a little too pleasantly buzzed herself to mind the disregard of personal space.

He shook his hand free of hers, and for a split second she was afraid she’d burned him, but his chilly gloved fingers were at her temple then, pushing her hair back so he could search for the cut she’d received last Friday. He gave a thoughtful hum before she elbowed him lightly and he settled for lazily dropping his arm around her shoulders. She couldn’t bring herself to argue with the idle stroke of a thumb or the smirk it brought her as she leaned into him.

As she walked alongside him through the dark, she nearly tripped, she nearly caught on fire, and she nearly popped up on her toes to place her mouth somewhere that might shut him up, hoping he’d keep stoking the inferno – just maybe not the same one that made the rambling man comment on her radium freckles again as he peered down at her.

Shego sucked in a sharp breath, but it did nothing to cool her off. She didn’t have to reach for it to feel something minuscule in her pocket, but her fingers dug down into it just to make sure it was there. She didn’t really mean to pull it out or eye the tiny white pill in the dark. She especially didn’t mean to let out a tiny disappointed noise when the hand left her shoulder altogether.

Drakken was frowning into the dark now, his dopy grin gone and his handsiness retracted entirely. The fear she might have burned him and warded him off crossed her mind again and was all the incentive she needed in her present hazy state to drop the bitter pill on her tongue and chase it with a sip of liquor she really didn’t need. It went without saying that the sleep aid wasn’t meant to be mixed with alcohol, but if there were ill effects from it, she’d soon find out. She couldn’t risk having yet another villain getting his hands on it anyway, she rationalized to herself.

Grabbing his hand again, she pulled it back around her shoulders. He didn’t push her away, so that was probably a good sign, she decided to herself with a nod, even if his arm felt colder and heavier than before.

Stumbling around in the dark with a nice buzz, pushing cars off cliffs, detonating bombs – it sure beat insufferable jokes and wishing for earplugs at karaoke. Who needed an angel boy with heavenly eyes to show her the light when she had a paying advocate for mischief at her side who could dazzle her just as well with homemade explosives? She’d spent at least an hour earlier – surely longer than she’d even spent at karaoke with angel boy – spieling her complaints in the midst of learning the ropes to get the stolen station wagon up the mountain before it broke down. Happily intoxicated, Drakken had laughed through most of the night as he drug her down the same indulgent path with the occasional offer, and Shego was thankful there weren’t nearly as many patrol cars in the little oasis town as there were in Go City, or they would have been busted for sure.

Drakken mumbled something. Her name, maybe, or close to it anyway. His dark eyes were still fixed dead ahead, and suddenly she noticed he’d gone tense.

“Waddisit?” she slurred out. The bottle slipped from her fingers and broke on the pavement. She swore. She didn’t want to believe the medication was hitting her so soon. There was still a ways to walk – but surely close enough she could reach a safe place to crash before she did something especially stupid, or maybe a safe place to do something especially stupid she otherwise couldn’t sober. She inwardly chastised herself for the thought ever crossing her mind.

“Nothing,” Drakken mumbled. “Nothing. It can’t be.” He shook his head, disheveled hair flopping around his face, still damp and sticky from an earlier drizzle. She let him slip away so he could take a few hasty steps ahead of her, picking up his pace as he ambled down the dark mountain road.

A disappointed sigh escaped Shego’s unzipped lips without her say-so. “Can’t be what?” she wondered, straightening up and squaring her shoulders, determined not to let the absence of his arm around them get her down so easy.

“I said it’s nothing!” Drakken grouched back at her, and his frown smoothed out slightly. It clearly wasn’t nothing if it had him lashing out and swaggering over to the side of the road, wrapping an arm around his stomach as he let out a groan. The man doubled over suddenly and hurled. Then again, maybe it was just the alcohol, she decided.

Shego stood behind him for a moment, contemplating leaving him there to throw his guts up in relative privacy or continuing on her way to the lair. Remembering about the pill in her own stomach now, she opted for walking on after giving his back a couple of not-so-ginger pats. It was only a matter of time before she collapsed. Popping a pill so soon had been a stupid mistake. She’d underestimated how far the lair was. Why had she even brought the stupid pill at all? What did she think she’d need it for? She shook her head to herself.

As she trudged on, she recognized the approaching sound of an engine Drakken must have heard a minute before her, what with his big ears and all. She couldn’t place it. It didn’t sound right for the standard car, yet surely couldn’t belong to anything larger like a firetruck. She caught a glimpse of a single light then, and for a second she feared the angel boy on his way up the mountain with his little moped. She blinked and shook the absurd notion out of her head and surmised it was a motorcycle.

A motorcycle which was pulling into their driveway.

Her stomach flip-flopped as she corrected the thought.

Drakken’s driveway. A motorcycle was pulling into Drakken’s driveway.

If any of the henchmen even owned a motorcycle, it was news to her. Who else would have business out this way at this time of night was beyond her.

Drakken cursed in alarm between heaves and then he was jogging right past Shego a moment later. She didn’t have time to articulate a question before he was far enough away she’d have to shout, so she held her tongue and quickened her pace after the woozy rogue.

As they hurried up the driveway to the gate, Shego could see the lock had already been cut or picked or whatever the case, the gate was open, and across the blacktop parked by the side entry of the whopping garage was the motorcycle.

“Oh no, no, no,” Drakken groaned. He whirled in front of Shego with his hands up to stop her. “You – you’ve gotta go. I shouldn’t be here. Can – uhm – can we hide at your place? Pretty please?” His smile was forced and fake and didn’t do a very good job of charming her into letting him get his way.

“Are you kidding me, Doc?” she scoffed, shoving his halting hands aside. “Not a chance. I’m not gonna make it.” It was the unfortunate truth. She’d definitely jumped the gun by taking the narcotic so soon.

In the dark, she saw his brow quirk at her. “I told you to use the restroom at—”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh! Drakken. Who’s here? Do you know ‘em or should I be ready to fight?” If he needed her unique service, it had to be now or never.

“Please, don’t – put those away.”

“Don’t put them away or just don’t in general?” she teased over her shoulder, though her patience was starting to wear thin.

Drakken whined for her, and then snapped her name under his breath in the most commanding tone he could manage while so tipsy. He jumped in front of her again and pointed sternly to the gate. “You need to leave.”

She crossed her arms. “Why?”

“Drew Lipsky!” came a shrill shout from inside the garage, and the pounding of a fist on the entry to the subterranean lair rang above it. “You open this door at once!”

The grown man winced at the whining call of a woman. “That’s why,” he hissed. “Please—”

Her hand snapped out to grab a fistful of his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere,” she hissed back, tugging him along. “It’s late as hell. It’s cold. I’m tired.” She couldn’t admit she’d just taken the addictive suppressant drug she’d only just gotten off of, or that it was due to knock her out for the count within the next thirty minutes.

Drakken grunted, and jerked away from her, taking a couple big steps ahead of her. “Then stay out of sight. I’m not – I’m not explaining you, o-or any of this to her. Not tonight! Not ever!”

“So who’s here, anyway?” she wondered, still following but giving him some space now.

Another quiet peeved noise, a frown over his shoulder, and a curt, “Zip it,” was the last thing he said to her before hurrying into the garage.

Shego slipped along the wall toward the open side entry, passing the classy motorcycle in shades of scarlet and chrome. She heard the pounding of the fist on the lair door interrupted by the clearing of Drakken's throat, followed by a long pause.

Too dissatisfied to be left out of the loop, she dared to take a peek inside. Past Dr. Drakken, she could just see the shape of a small woman. “Let me get that for you,” he told her, skirting around the visitor dressed in leather biker gear.

Shego had to assume the woman was none other than his mother, or at least a relative, given the sheer family resemblance in the facial department. The astounded lady was silent and analytical as he unlocked the door, until finally she ventured, “Drew?”

Drakken went rigid but said nothing – nothing pertaining to the name anyway. “Right this way,” he said, as a doctor would to a patient. The unexpected guest had sobered him up quick, but he could sound as respectful and sober as any real doctor – it wouldn’t help him come off any more professional with mud smeared all over him from falling down while shoving the car off the mountain just minutes ago.

The plump little biker woman was otherwise quiet as Dr. Drakken led her into his lair. Needing to find a place to lie down soon, Shego risked following at a distance, slipping silently up the stone-carved stairs and through the corridor behind them. The lab was dark – which she could see Dr. Drakken breathe a sigh of relief for – and he made a quick cut through it to his living quarters to hold open the door for the perturbed mother giving him the strangest of looks as she entered.

The woman was clearly still set on clarifying that the strange blue man was what had really become of her boy. Learning of a freakish change hadn't gone over particularly well with her own mother, so Shego could only hope for a better outcome as the woman repeated firmly, “Drew.” It was less of a question and more of a statement.

“Actually, it’s Dr. Drakken,” corrected the rogue, following his mother in.

Shego's foot caught the door before it could shut. She peeked in just in time to see the woman sitting down at one of the bar stools and Drakken slipping into the kitchen to scrub his grimy arms clean. It was otherwise silent until he turned around, brandishing a bag of specialty coffee for the woman. “Your favorite,” he said feebly, wearing a forced smile on his face.

“You are Drew,” uttered his mother. He busied himself with the coffee pot until the demanding woman ordered him, “Drew. Come over here and let me look at you.”

As Drakken slowly turned to face the woman, his somber stare darted up to Shego peeping in, and his eye twitched in the barest hint of agitation. So she ducked a little further out of view, just out of courtesy, but once he was standing before his mother and the shell-shocked woman had grabbed him by the face, Shego snuck inside, taking the chance while the guest was distracted.

“Oh, honey,” breathed the tiny curly-haired lady. “What in the world did you get yourself into this time?”

As Shego snuck by behind the unsuspecting woman, not exactly thinking through what she was doing, she didn’t miss Drakken’s glance cast toward her again. “It's a long story,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m listening and I’m not getting any younger here,” his mother chastised. “You better start. How did this happen? And, honey, when did you get this?” Shego didn't have to glance back to know what the woman was reaching for, but she did anyway. Her stomach twisted in guilt as Mrs. Lipsky inspected the scar she’d left carved into the rogue doctor’s face some years ago.

The guilt dissipated as she reached the nook hiding his bedroom entrance. The foggy old memory made her smirk now to think the abductor she'd wounded as a frightened kid was the same dismal man who'd smiled so warmly at her tonight. And not only that, he was the same man whose room she was sneaking into to seek refuge now. Things had a funny way of changing.

She leaned back on the door and listened for a minute, but couldn’t quite decipher the muffled conversation between a self-proclaimed mad scientist and his tiny biker mother. Something about big top-secret plans for the future of humanity and a broken promise in order to rush over to the oasis in the middle of the night to check on him.

Kicking away from the door, Shego patted the wall around the doorframe in search of a light switch, to no avail. She almost tried clapping her hands in case it was clap-activated – but stopped herself in time, reminding herself she had to be sneaky. She lit her hands instead – and remembered she only needed one to light the way – and held the fading glow out ahead of her as she navigated across the swollen waterway. She muttered to herself that the man needed to install railings or pathway lights of some sort, and wondered what he’d think of the evil atmosphere green aquatic lights might offer.

An open door – or rather, a gaping hole of darkness – drew her eye, and she gravitated toward it. It must have been intuition that led her to a walk-in closet. She ran into the pull-cord before she saw it, and winced at the blinding light that flooded the little room of shelves and racks. Taking it in, she swore he owned more clothes than he’d ever need, and almost envied his fortune to own such an expansive wardrobe. Few things of her own lasted more than a couple of months, as everything but her specialized gear was burned to some degree eventually, and the tendency had gotten regrettably worse since running away with Drakken.

Picking through his closet and careful not to disturb much, she found a hamper to drop his muddy jacket beside. Her dirt-encrusted jeans followed. There were enough sweatpants hung up that he couldn’t possibly notice an ambiguous grey pair missing, though her face burned as she considered she probably should have asked to borrow some the other night.

Shego found the lamp above the bed just as her glow had grown too dim to see by, and she tried to wait patiently, sitting up at the edge the bed regardless of how drowsy she was becoming. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, and was just beginning to nod off when the door opened.

She rolled her head on her shoulders as she fixed an inquiring heavy-lidded gaze on Drakken shuffling in. He was wide-eyed and looked alarmed – the polar opposite of her increasingly dopy state – and he opened his mouth as if to gripe her name, but shut it again. His hands were balled into fists as he stalked across the little bridge and into the closet.

“I see you’re making yourself at home,” he hissed when he came back out, bedding stuffed under one arm and one of his robes on a hangar draped over the other.

Shego only smirked at his back as he hurried back out just as his bedroom door began to creak open. Her heart gave a small lurch and she hoped she hadn’t been spotted perched on the corner of her boss’s bed by her boss’s mother. She wasn’t ready to explain herself right now. Not tonight. Not ever.

Flopping back and throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the light was a mistake. Not because she began to doze off again the second she did, but because she missed Drakken’s return and the kersplash! that announced it.

“Gah—shi— doodles!” he sputtered, choking on water.

Shego found just enough energy to push herself onto an elbow to watch the blue man heave himself out of the diminutive canal on the brink of overflowing, sopping wet and blinded by the loss of his glasses. She chuckled softly. If she weren’t too tired to laugh herself silly, her laughter would have given herself away to his guest.

Drakken knelt for a minute, shaking his hair out like a wet dog and feeling around on the floor to find the glasses he’d lost. “I hate this goddamn—”

“Th’moat’s cool,” she said. Thought she said, anyway. She was pretty sure it came out a garbled mumble, but Drakken must have understood her well enough.

“You think so?”

“Mm-hm.” She dropped down on her side and barely saw him blow a raspberry and futilely paw specks of water off his lenses. Her heavy eyelids fell shut as she watched him wringing himself out.

Before she knew it, she was being nudged, and pulled a little bit too. He was saying something she didn’t quite catch but took a guess as to what was being requested of her. Barely capable of complying, she shifted, hopefully in the right direction. To her relief, her head found a pillow, and then Drakken was dry and smelling soapy and hovering over her. He seemed concerned. In the fleeting moment of consciousness, she barely formed the thought that there was something to be concerned about.

The dosage was stronger than before.

She wasn’t concerned for long.

#Drakken #Shego #Drakgo #The Company You Keep fic

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