#I’m actually dying for someone to ask me to elaborate but I’ll refrain for now haha

[theladyofsarcasm]

gold rush by taylor swift is a kagehina and iwaoi song, come back be here by taylor swift is kagehina and iwaoi song, paper rings by taylor swift is a kagehina and iwaoi song, you are in love by taylor swift is a kagehina and iwaoi song, afterglow by taylor swift is a kagehina song, daylight by taylor swift is a kagehina and iwaoi song, cruel summer by taylor swift is a kagehina and iwaoi song—*trips and falls*

[theartofdreaming1]

Partners - Part 9: Meeting Mary

Rating: T

Pairing: DickBabs

Summary:  After investigating some more, Dick and Barbara have finally found out where Mary and her son are hiding. Now, all that's left to do is figuring out a way for Mary to trust them... My DickBabs police officers AU.

You can also read this chapter at AO3 or start from the beginning on my blog

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On their next free weekend, after some more sleuthing, Dick and Barbara made a trip to Snug Cay’s Most Beautiful Hiking Trails. Close by the adjoined parking lot, a couple of rental cabins were scattered along the edge of the woods, not too far from the summer camp at which Mary Wallmer used to work as a counselor in her highschool years.

“It’s actually quite pretty here,” Dick commented when he got out of the car, eyes roaming over the nearly empty parking lot with its big map sign detailing its various hiking trails. Well-marked entries into the woods lining the three sides of the parking lot invited visitors to go for a walk.

“Mhm,” Barbara murmured absent-mindedly, rummaging the backseat of the car for their jackets and backpacks, filled with snacks, bottles of water and a map of the area - props to give them the inconspicuous looks of a couple out for a hike.

She handed Dick his stuff, then put on her own gear.

“Maybe we should consider actually coming here for a hike at another time,” Dick suggested conversationally, while Barbara re-checked the most recent location of Redhorn’s son - product of her latest digital scavenger hunt - with the positions of the cabins on her map.

“You mean when we’re not tracking down a potential witness that could help us topple the entire system of corruption of a city?” Barbara replied drily, packing the map away.

She pointed east, towards the side of the woods that was closer to the bay, “Cabin 7 is over there.”

Hands in his pockets, Dick started to walk leisurely in the direction Barbara had pointed, a cheeky grin on his lips: “I guess that would be more convenient, sure."

Barbara rolled her eyes, then slipped her arm into his: “Let’s sort this thing out first, shall we?”

Dick’s expression lost it’s cheerful air and smoothed into a more serious one.

“Right, let’s go over our approach again:” he agreed, now focussing on the task at hand, while they were heading towards their destination, “We’re a couple that went out for a hike and when we wanted to head home, realized that our car wouldn’t start. Unfortunately, both of our phones don’t have any reception out here so we’re now stuck wandering around, trying to find someone who would let us use their phone.”

He looked at Barbara for confirmation.

The redhead nodded: “Exactly.”

“And you really think that all this deception is necessary? It’s not exactly inspiring trust once we tell her the actual reason why we’re here.”

Barbara let out a sigh.

“I know, I know,” she admitted, deflated, “but I think we won’t be able to get a foot in the door otherwise - everything she thought she knew turned out to be a lie; the person she had trusted the most turned out to be in the thick of the scheming and corruption that’s been ailing Blüdhaven for the longest time… Would you trust a pair of strange cops who claim to have come to help you and contend that they have a plan for bringing down said corrupted system that has permeated seemingly every nook and cranny of the ‘Haven’s society, including the sphere of your own home??”

She let the picture she’d painted hang in the air, then shook her head sadly.

“No,” she said grimly, answering her own question, “I don’t think she’d hear us out if we presented our case to her, straightforward. She’d only grow more terrified and slam the door in our faces…”

“Leaving her more afraid for her life and her son’s without listening to our offer to help them out, most likely causing Mary to try even harder to go into hiding,” Dick supplied, finishing Barbara’s thought.

“Mhm.”

Dick let out a sigh, unable to argue with his girlfriend’s logic: “Fine, initial deception it is… Oh, look,” he exclaimed, pointing to a wooden cabin which was hidden away off-trail, almost entirely concealed by the grouping of fir trees lining the path, “that’s got to be it!”

Barbara consulted the geolocation marker on her phone she had created based on the online activity of Redhorn Jr. (even though the teenager had refrained from posting anything on his social media accounts, he still had been watching YouTube videos via his phone, which Barbara had used to backtrack his and his mother’s whereabouts): “I think you’re right.”

They left the larger path along which the cabins were scattered and followed the narrow trail covered in crushed rocks and fir needles. They discovered the wooden sign marking the wooden cabin at the end of the trail to be number 7; it had been completely obscured by the low, thick branches of the fir trees.

“So this is it?”

“Gotta be - the GPS coordinates match the location at which Redhorn’s son liked a video about three hours ago.”

In the shade of the cabin, Dick noticed a red toyota with a familiar looking license plate: “Hey, that’s Mary’s car, isn’t it?”

Apparently, all their prep hadn’t been for naught: “Yes it is.”

“Alright, so this is it… You ready?”

Barbara took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the task at hand.

“I’m ready. You?”

She caught Dick’s eye and saw the determined look on his face.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Together, they climbed up the three stairs to the cabin’s porch and knocked softly at the door.

***

They heard the sound of shuffling of feet behind the door, but no one answered it.

“Hello, is anyone there?” Barbara asked in a tentative voice.

Then, the door opened slightly and revealed a frightened blue eye which nervously examined the two young adults lingering on the porch.

Having discussed during their car ride that it would probably best if she took the lead early on (assuming that Mary would probably perceive a woman as less threatening), it was Barbara who addressed their supposed stranger in a friendly, if slightly embarrassed manner:

“Oh, hi! We’re so sorry to disturb you, but my boyfriend and I just returned from our hike around these parts - only to discover that our car won’t start and neither of us have any reception on our cellphones; may we use your phone to call roadside assistance? That would be incredibly helpful.”

The wary expression on what had been visible of Mary’s face had dissipated by the time Barbara had reached the end of her prepared speech and the door was opened fully now, revealing an unassuming woman of 5’2’’ and stocky build. Her blonde (probably dyed) hair was wavy, about shoulder-length, and framed a round, open face. Faint lines around eyes and mouth indicated her age to be around forty.

“Oh you poor things!” the middle-aged woman exclaimed emphatically, any hint of her previous mistrust completely vanished, “Of course you can use the phone here! Come in!”

And with that, Mary stepped aside, motioning for the two strangers to enter the cabin.

It wasn’t difficult to see how Redhorn had managed to conceal his wrongdoings from his wife for so long - she was downright guileless.

To be honest, Barbara couldn’t help but be surprised that Redhorn’s thugs hadn’t found Mary yet - once they had, it would have been all too easy for them to take a hold of her; it was probably for the best that Mary had sold the house of her deceased parents before she had stumbled upon the evidence of her husband’s criminal activities - this way, she couldn’t seek refuge in her childhood home even if feeling tempted to do so… and Barbara wasn’t all that convinced that Mary was cunning enough to have recognized that as a bad move on her part.

While Barbara was reflecting on the naivety of their potential informant, Dick engaged with Mary in idle small talk, making introductions, thanking her for her kindness and answering the many questions of the talkative and curious woman, such as where they were from and what had led them here?

“We are from Gotham City,” Dick explained, elaborating on the narrative he and Barbara had prepared beforehand (which wasn’t based completely on lies), “We’ve been meaning to take a break from the city for some time and decided to check out the hiking trails of Snug Cay - which definitely deserve their positive reviews online! Too bad our trip had to end with car trouble,” he concluded with a grimace so believable and sympathetic, Barbara would have been convinced of his story if she didn’t know any better. A born performer, indeed.

“Such bad luck!” Mary exclaimed empathetically. “But don’t you worry, we will get this fixed in no time! Let me show you to the phone; I think there should also be some brochures of nearby businesses and a phone book…”

She led Dick and Barbara to a small end table in a semi-secluded corner in the hallway next to the entrance door. Three doors lined the hallway wall; muffled yells of excitement sounded from behind the one closest to them.

“Don’t mind that,” Mary said nervously, giving a strained smile, “my son is not a nature lover such as you two - he prefers to play on his phone or gameboy or whatever it is called.”

“Ah, I’m familiar with the kind,” Dick nodded knowingly, ”I’ve got a teen brother who is very much into gaming.”

He gave Mary one of his disarming smiles:“How old is your son?”

“Thirteen.”

Dick grinned: “Yeah, the wonders of nature don’t particularly score with that demographic.”

Mary let out a laugh, then opened the drawer of the end table that contained the phone book and brochures.

“You should be able to find some number of a road assistance service in here.”

Thinking that it might be for the best to give Dick a little more time to build a rapport with Mary, which hopefully were to improve their chances of being heard out later, Barbara took the stack of papers out of Mary’s hands.

“Thank you so much,” she said warmly to the older woman. Then, after exchanging a meaningful glance with Dick, she motioned at the phone: “I’ll take care of it.”

“Sure thing,” he replied, his expression letting Barbara know he understood her silent message.

“We’ll leave you to make your call,” Mary responded kindly before addressing Dick: “Would you like something to drink, Richard?”

He smiled: “That would be great, thank you.”

***

While she was looking up the name of a local car mechanic (just in case) and pretended to make a call, Barbara could hear the other two engage in a friendly chat with one another.

By the time Barbara made her way back into the main room, she found Dick and Mary sitting in the living room, with Mary comfortably seated on the couch and Dick occupying one of the arm chairs. The blonde woman was grilling Dick about his private life.

“You two make such a gorgeous couple! How did you two meet?”

“Um, we first met each other at work, actually. We got assigned partners.”

“How fortuitous! If you don’t mind me asking, Richard, what do you do for a living?”

“Um,..-”

Barbara could tell that Dick was starting to sweat a little, so she made her move to intervene.

“Ah, there you are!” Mary exclaimed happily when she noticed Barbara return from her ‘phone call’, “Did you get everything sorted out?”

“Oh yes, someone will come over soon.”

“Wonderful!” Mary responded smilingly, “Is there anything else I can do to help, my dear?”

Barbara directed a meaningful at Dick and carefully sat down in the other empty armchair: “Actually, yes, there is one more thing…”

The helpful older woman nodded attentively, ready to help. Barbara felt a little bad for what she was about to do; still, this was in Mary’s best interest as well as theirs.

“You see,” Barbara began, her voice dropping into a hushed tone,”we know about your husband and the social calendars you’ve kept all these years - We think that they could help us with our cause.”

At that, Mary blanched and a panicked look appeared on her face, her eyes nervously flickering over to the door of the room her son was currently occupying.

“We’re not here to hurt you!” Dick was quick to add, ”We can help you, offer you protection - get you and your son far away from the ‘Haven and your husband’s influence, so you guys are safe.”

The poor blindsided woman twitched anxiously, as if she wanted to get up and run, but froze when Barbara moved to get something from the inside of her jacket.

It took Barbara a few seconds to realize what Mary must have suspected.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not-” she began hastily, before breaking off. She then slowly, carefully, produced her badge and ID from the inside pocket of her jacket, putting them down on the couch table, right in front of Mary. Dick followed her example with equally cautious and measured movements.

“Here,” Barbara gestured at the evidence laid out in front of Mary,”the two of us are officers at the BPD; but we are from Gotham, originally. We have nothing to do with Blüdhaven’s corrupt elite,” she explained calmly, while the older woman’s gaze fluttered nervously between the ID cards on the table and the two officers seated next to her.

“Barbara’s father helped clean up the corrupt police force in Gotham,” Dick further supplied, ”and we want to do the same in the ‘Haven.”

Mary didn’t say anything; the poor woman only looked frightened.

“We have found a few officers who have the same goal,” Dick continued to explain in a composed voice, “and we are now building up a case against all the corrupt politicians and police officials - including your husband.”

Mary winced, her eyes now fixed firmly on her knees.

“It would be very helpful for our case if you could give us those notebooks you’ve kept all these years,” Barbara went on, “regardless of whether you’d be willing to testify against your husband or not.”

“You don’t have to do either of those things, of course,” Dick hastened to reassure Mary, who at last dared to cast a tentative look in his direction, “for now, it is much more important to keep you and your son safe.”

“Exactly,” Barbara nodded fervently. She noticed that Mary seemed marginally calmer than before, appearing to be listening intently.

“We know that your husband has involved some of his people to look for you two,” Dick said gently, ”and frankly, a lot of his cronies have some very worrisome reputations.”

“And this is where we come in,” Barbara jumped in, “I know some people at the FBI who can help you get out of the reach of the criminals that have been running Blüdhaven as of yet.”

She handed Mary two business cards. Clammy hands gripped the cards tightly.

“Here are the contacts of the two agents that can help you. I have worked with them before on a case of corruption in Blüdhaven; they passed the background checks I conducted on them to ensure that they are not connected to any Blüdhaven elite with flying colors - they are trustworthy.”

Mary looked at Barbara with big eyes; the business cards still in a vice grip.

“I… I don’t know-”

Dick gave Mary a reassuring smile: “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“No, but you shouldn’t wait too long,” Barbara warned emphatically, “If we can find you here, it’s only a matter of time until your husband or his cronies will figure out a way to find you, too.”

“I… I don’t know what to do,” the poor woman stammered, distressed. She looked pleadingly from Dick to Barbara, as if waiting for them to tell her what to do.

Of course, that was not what they had come for.

“Ultimately, you will have to decide on your own what is best for you and your son - I know that all of this must be overwhelming and that we’re just two random strangers that appeared out of nowhere,” Dick said sympathetically, “You didn’t ask to get dragged into this, you just want for you and your son to be safe-”

Mary nodded energetically, “Yes!”

“We can’t tell you what to do - You have to be the judge on which course of action you want to take,” Barbara stressed.

Averting her eyes again, Mary only nodded meekly.

“Personally,” Dick mused aloud, causing Mary to look up again “I’d say your safest bet is to call these numbers,” he tapped the business cards Mary was still clutching tightly, “These FBI agents will get the two of you out of here, someplace safe.”

Mary’s lips parted as if wanting to say something - but in the end, she only pressed them together and fiddled nervously with the cards in her hands.

Dick exchanged a telling look with Barbara, who pulled out a burner phone and put it on the table.

“Here, take this,” Barbara said, “there is one number saved in there - it’s to a safe line which only Dick and I can access; it can’t be traced. This way, you will always be able to reach us - if there’s anything you think we can help you with - call that number.”

This gesture seemed to finally have broken the dam. With a trembling hand, Mary reached for the phone, staring at Dick and Barbara with teary eyes.

“Is this real?” Mary asked in a quiet, shaky voice.

“This is real.”

“And… And it’s not a trick?”

Dick gave an encouraging smile: “It’s not a trick. I promise.”

A brief pause followed, then: “Okay.”

***

They went over the particulars again, making sure that Mary would know what to expect when reaching out to Barbara’s contacts at the FBI. Once they had settled everything, Mary brought up the one thing that still remained unresolved:

“And… And the notebooks?”

Barbara cocked her head to the side, a friendly smile on her face: “What do you want to do with them?”

Mary fiddled nervously with the phone in her hands.

“I don’t know, I just- I just want to be rid of them, I suppose,” she said, sounding tired. She sighed deeply.

“You want them, I assume?”

“It would be useful for the case we’re building,” Barbara admitted honestly, “but if you don’t want us to use them in our case, you don’t have to hand them over.”

There was a long pause while Mary was mulling over it.

“No, you should have them,” she mused,”I think that’s why I took them with me in the first place - I knew that they were valuable evidence, I just didn’t know what to do with it… Or maybe I wasn’t ready to admit to myself that - that my husband is a criminal.”

Gently, Dick put a reassuring hand on Mary’s shoulder.

“We’re sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Mary said shakily, making a dismissive gesture before getting up from the couch, “I’ll go get them.”

The blonde woman hurried away into the hallway and disappeared behind the door furthest away. Dick and Barbara could hear the clunking of a floor board being moved and scraping noises. Soon after, Mary returned, three small black pocket calendars in hand: “Take them.”

Barbara took the unassuming, but invaluable notebooks and stowed them safely away in her backpack.

She smiled warmly at Mary: “Thank you.”

Suddenly, the other door in the hallway opened and a skinny boy of thirteen shuffled out. “Hey Mom, when’s dinner- who are you guys?”

The teenager stopped short, eyeing the two strangers suspiciously.

“Alex!” Mary exclaimed, jumping up from her seat on the couch. She quickly regained her composure, though: “These are Richard and Barbara, they went hiking in the woods but then had car trouble and no reception - they asked to use the phone to call for some help.”

The teen regarded Dick and Barbara with narrowed eyes. Barbara had the slightest inkling that Alex was by far not as unaware of their precarious situation as his mother might assume.

“I thought I heard some knocking about, like, an hour ago.”

The boy cast a challenging look at the two ‘visitors’, but Dick just countered smoothly: “We had to wait until they could send a mechanic, chatted for a bit and lost track of time.”

As she gathered up their backpacks and jackets, Barbara added: “I’m sure someone from Larry’s should arrive at any minute.”

“Oh yes! You should get going, it would be awful if you missed the mechanic!”

“Yeah… Plus, we wouldn’t want to delay your family dinner any more,” Dick remarked brightly, winking at Alex as the three adults made their way to the front door. The boy seemed to loosen up a little, although his eyes remained alert.

At the door, Barbara seized the opportunity to express her gratitude: “Thank you so much , Mary, you saved our day.”

The older woman blushed.

“Don’t mention it,” she responded humbly, “I’m just glad I could be of service. And… And I'm really glad I got to talk with you two.”

Dick gave an affectionate nod.

“Take care.”

Mary smiled brightly.

“You, too! I hope everything works out well… with your car.”

“Thanks!”

Dick and Barbara said their good-byes and followed the path back to the car, leaving cabin 7 behind. They didn’t exchange a single word on the way back.

Once they had entered the car, Barbara finally looked at Dick, a big smile on her face. She felt dazed and utterly exhilarated at the same time.

“I think… I think we’ve done it?”

She was met with a wide smile that matched her own:

“We’ve done it!”

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To be continued... here.

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Notes:

Nightwing #71-74: This is entire chapter is very loosely based on this story arc. Basically, Dick learns that some of Blockbuster's goons are trying to get to Mary because of the meticulously kept social calendars she has in her possession and wants to protect her - which leads to a chase to some of Europe's most famous cities (Rome, Paris, and London). For this story I decided that Mary's hiding spot would be less extravagant and instead some place familiar to her, somewhere she had felt safe before. In the comics Dick also tries talking to her in full Nightwing gear, but Mary is too frightened to hear him out; Babs is the one to point out that Dick Grayson might stand a better chance to get to chat with Mary than a masked vigilante - here, Babs gets to intervene a lot sooner (she is more practical and efficient than Dick in that way, I think). While Babs deals with their task at hand in a more pragmatic way, I decided to have Dick be the one who is better at quickly building rapport with Mary - this way, they make the perfect team to get the job done (technical skills/logistics + people skills)

Oh, and I decided to name Mary's son Alex because comicvine states Chief Redhorn' name to be "Francis Alexander", although I can't recall for the life of me where that name ever appeared (the only times I remember Redhorn's first name being mentioned, it was always "Delmore" ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[kriscme]

One Life To Live

Hi Readers, this is a reposting of Chapter 24.   I didn’t like parts of the ending so I rewrote it.  I hope this makes Katniss’s thought process clearer.  As always, thanks to Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take” and thanks to you for reading.  “The Chance You Didn’t Take” is on Ao3 and FanFiction. Chapter 24

Ready to move on with my life.  I repeat this mantra at least a dozen times the following day.  I say it as I walk to work.  I say it as I clean the blackboard.  I say it as I walk past the bakery.  I say it as I pass through the Village gates on my way home.  I’m still saying it when I go to answer the knock at the door, and I say it again when I see who it is.   It’s Peeta.

He hangs back as if he’s unsure what kind of welcome he’ll get.  He looks tired, with circles under his eyes, and his clothes are a little disheveled, like they’ve been slept in.  One hand clutches a large, bulging paper bag.   A silver ring with a love knot gleams dully on one finger.   He gives me a hesitant smile.  “Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I say in return.

There are a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.  If Peeta has a reason for being here, he’s slow to get to it.  “Um, do you want to come in?” I ask.  Maybe that’s what he’s waiting for.  I step back to give him room. He hesitates for a moment, as if considering it. “Thanks, but I can’t stay.  I have to get into town.  I just wanted to see you before I left.  To give you this.”  I take the bag he offers me.  I unfold the top and see that it’s full of cookies.  A least six different kinds.  He has been busy. “And to apologize for the other night.   I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.  I know none of it is your fault.  I don’t why I did – I think it just reminded me – “ “Of another time?” I interject.  “I thought that’s what happened.  Memories are returning, then?” He nods.  “Yeah, and at unexpected times and places.  I was wrong to blame you that other time too, wasn’t I?” I shrug.  “It’s not nice to be the last to know, especially when it concerns you,” I concede.  “We – that is, Haymitch and I – thought Lace would have told you, since you’re engaged and all.  That’s why we didn’t.”  I refrain from mentioning that I had also threatened her.   “I understand.  It was Lace’s place to tell me.  No one else.”   We lapse into silence again, but even though Peeta has said what he came to say, he makes no move to go. “I missed you this morning,” I blurt out, when the silence becomes untenable.  I want to kick myself.  The plan was to pretend I hadn’t noticed.  But I waited nearly fifteen minutes for him to show when I shouldn’t have even given him one second.  He was the one at fault, not me.  As the day progressed, the anger built.  I kept it leashed when I was with the children, but when Max started on me with his usual teasing, he got the full force of it, and he left me alone.   And I know he was just dying to pester me for details of what happened at the pub.   “Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he says, all contrition.  “I’ve had a couple of rough nights and I slept in.  I ended up taking the day off work.”

“Oh,” I feel myself soften a little.  That’s something I can relate to.   He does look very tired, exhausted even.  And there’s something about it that’s familiar, a sort of haunted look about the eyes.  I guess it takes one to know one.  “Nightmares?” “Yeah, I’ve been having them for a while now. They came with the memories, but the ones just lately . . .” He doesn’t finish, but looks away, as if he can’t meet my eye.   “They’ve got worse?” I prompt.   “No.  Not worse, just . . . different.”   I wait for him to elaborate but he doesn’t. Maybe he wants me to ask.  He seems to be waiting for something.  But I don’t want to know about his nightmares. If he wants to talk to someone about them, he has Lace.   “I guess it’s the cost of finding yourself,” I say rather unhelpfully.  “But I sympathise about the nightmares.  They can be brutal.”  Unbidden, a hint of animosity creeps into my voice.   That guest room ban still rankles.   “I’ve found that out,” he replies.   “I’m sorry now that I wasn’t more understanding of yours.  I suppose you can add that to the list of the many things I have to be sorry about.” There’s another pause.  He wants me to ask what they are, I know he does.   But I’m tired of this round-a-bout way of conversing.  It’s confusing me.  If he has something to tell me, why doesn’t he just say it straight out?  I thought he was in a hurry to get into town, anyway. “Well, thanks for the cookies.  There’s enough to keep me going for weeks, but I’m sure Marcus will help out.”  I don’t know why I bring up Marcus, except to show Peeta that I can have someone too if I want.   “I’d better not keep you any longer.” He does that looking away thing again.  “You’re right, I should be going.  I have a lot to do.”  He turns back to me with a sad smile.  “Bye Katniss.  I guess I’ll see you around.” I watch him pass through the Village Gates and then disappear from sight.  He seems so forlorn, almost defeated. The nightmares must have come back with a vengeance.  And I suppose this business with Lace has knocked him around a bit too.  I have an impulse to run after him and put my arms around him, to give comfort in any way I can.  I don’t act on it, of course.  Besides, what did he mean by “I’ll see you around?”  Surely, he should have said, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”  He’s decided not to walk with me into town anymore then.  I suppose he’s realized that he can’t continue to cling to the friendship the way he has, not when he’s to marry in a few weeks.  I don’t know whether to feel anger or relief.  I decide on relief.  It will be easier for us both.  

Johanna comes over for a visit, conveniently right on dinnertime.  We sneak in a few words about Peeta while Marcus isn’t listening, but she has little to add to what she told me last night, other than the locket is still by the phone where he left it.  

After dinner, Johanna and I decide to visit Haymitch.  Marcus is occupied pouring over maps so we won’t be missed.  Unfortunately, our timing is off.  Haymitch has settled into his favorite lounge chair with a bottle of white liquor and a big paper bag of cookies beside him.   “One Life to Live” is about to start and this particular episode has been promoted as not to be missed.  Apparently, Celia is to lose the chaste in Chastely.   Johanna and I clear a space on the sofa and sit down.  There’ll be no real conversation until “One Life to Live” is over.  I sigh.  You have to be brain dead to enjoy this show.  But then I see Haymitch take a swig of his liquor.  I guess he’d have lost a significant number of brain cells by now. The show opens with Ginger having the final fitting for her wedding gown.   “She looks like a giant puff-ball,” comments Johanna. “It’s to hide her pregnancy.  It must be quite advanced by now,” I say. “Quiet!” barks Haymitch. Chastised, Johanna and I turn our attention back to the TV.   Blake and Ginger are consulting with the caterers over the menu for the reception.  Ginger wants it all to be ginger-colored to go with her name. She decides on sweet potato souffle, lobster with thousand island dressing and blood orange jelly with carrot ice-cream for dessert.  Blake is apathetic about it.  He looks like a man who’s given up all hope.  His roguish older brother, Ryder, who accompanies them, tries to cheer him up with a dirty joke, but it barely raises a smile. Meanwhile, it appears that Celia has got herself a boyfriend.  Her parents enthusiastically approve.  His name is Lance Bounder and his family owns the largest marijuana plantation in the district.   Actually, it’s grown and sold as hemp, but everyone knows where the real source of the Bounders’ wealth comes from and it isn’t rope.  On the surface, Lance is perfect for Celia.  Amazingly good looking with abs to die for.  Wealthy, charming, loves horses and small fluffy animals and, most importantly, shares the Chastely passion for organic farming. On this day, Celia is spending the day at the Bounder mansion.  The rest of the family is out, leaving Celia and Lance all alone.  Lance reaches into a dish for what looks like dried-up grass, and stuffs it into a small pipe.  After it’s lit, he offers it to Celia. “I couldn’t possibly,” says Celia. “I don’t approve of mind-altering drugs.” “It’s 100 per cent organic,” says Lance. “Oh, alright then,” says Celia, and takes a puff.   And another. And then another.   Celia loses all inhibition.  Clothes are strewn the length of the room and soon Celia and Lance are engaged in passionate sex.   “Wow,” Johanna whispers to me.  “Outside of the porn channel, I didn’t know they allowed this sort of thing on television.  Is he licking her – “ “Yes,” I say quickly before she can say the word. “It looks as if he’s trying to reach her tonsils.” After they’ve tried multiple positions, they call out for the gardener.   He’s been clipping the same hedge by the window since soon after they started.  

“What are they doing?” I whisper to Johanna.

“Making a sandwich,” she replies. Eventually, all three of them collapse exhausted.  The camera pans over Celia’s face.  The corners of her mouth curve into a satisfied smile.   “She’s going to regret it the next day,” murmurs Johanna in my ear. “Why do you think that?”  Celia seems very content to me. “Urinary tract infection.  Believe me, I know,” she answers. Next, we see Blake and Ryder on the porch of the Knightly home having a drink together.  A glorious sunset delineates the oil rigs in the distance, but Blake is blind to its beauty.  He’s sunk in despondency.  Ryder watches him, deeply worried. The episode ends with Ginger meeting secretly with the real father of her baby – the lead guitarist in the punk rock band “The Sucking Mosquitos.”  She tells him that soon after the baby is born, she intends to file for divorce and get half of Blake’s fortune.  The lovers seal their dastardly plan with a passionate kiss.  

The closing credits roll.  Haymitch fumbles around for the remote control, eventually finds it down the side of the chair, and turns off the television.   “So, what do you two want?” he asks crossly. I guess I should have remembered that Monday nights are special to Haymitch.  He likes to sit and relax with his favorite soap while imbibing a bottle or two of some alcoholic beverage.   “Can’t we just visit a neighbor without wanting anything?” I reply. “It would be a first.  So, what is it?  Information about the boy?  What makes you think I have any?” “That bag of cookies for a start,” says Johanna.   “We know he’s been here.  Peeta made enough to feed an army.   We’re concerned for him, that’s all.” Haymitch’s eyes travel to Johanna before landing on me.  He looks skeptical.  And then he shrugs.   “Memories are coming thick and fast and he doesn’t know what to do with them.  He says they’re all mixed up in his head.  He had a lot of questions about what happened in 13.” He looks in my direction. “Your reaction to his capture.  How you came to be the Mockingjay.  Questions like that.” “What did you tell him?” I ask. “The truth.  That you became the Mockingjay so he’d have immunity.  How I got the scars on my face.   Why he was rescued.” “What he did he say?” “He said you must have cared for him very much.” “And?” “That’s all.  He didn’t have any other questions.  That’s what you want, isn’t it?  Only tell him what he asks?”   “But how did he seem?  Was he happy about it?”   Haymitch pauses as if can’t decide to be truthful or tactful.   He settles on his usual bluntness. “He seemed upset.” My heart sinks.  For the briefest of moments, hope had flared.  But it was simply another false alarm, like always. Haymitch opens his mouth to add something, but his attention is claimed by Johanna.  “Did he tell you what happened with Lace?” she demands.  

Through a fog, I hear them talk about what happened at the pub and Peeta’s reaction to it.  Only one thought reverberates through my brain.  He knows!  He knows! And then: he wasn’t happy about it.   The very opposite, in fact.   “. . . making a mistake.  But it’s up to him.  Katniss, what do you think?” “Hmm?  Ah, yes.  Up to him,” I stammer out.  Johanna gives me an odd look and then goes back to talking with Haymitch. “Are you alright?”  she asks, shortly after we leave.  “You’re acting weird, even for you.” I scowl at her.  “I’m fine.  I’m just tired, that’s all.” “Better have an early night then.” Johanna lets out a massive yawn.   “Actually, I think I could do with one myself.  ‘night.” “Goodnight.”  

Johanna makes the short journey across the road to Peeta’s house, while I make the even shorter one to my house next door.  But I don’t go in.   Instead I sit down on the porch steps.  I need to think.   Was there anything I missed, in that strange conversation I had with Peeta?  There might be some hope in all that gloom.   I know Peeta had called in on Haymitch first. He must have, because he left to go into town after he called in on me.  That means he knew then how I feel about him.  I go over what was said.  He told me he’s having nightmares.  There’s nothing unusual in that, though.  Most of us who have gone through the Games have nightmares.  And then he said he has things to be sorry about.   But that’s just a natural consequence of regaining one’s memories.  Nearly everyone has something they wish they could take back, or do differently.   So, nothing he said tells me anything. But the way he acted did.   Haymitch said he was upset when he heard, and he wasn’t happy when he came to see me either.   He’d be glad, wouldn’t he, if my being in love with him was a good thing? Of course, he would.  It was unwelcomed then.  That explains why he could hardly look me in the eye.  It’s awkward when someone loves you and you don’t return it.   I remember that feeling with Gale. You feel bad.  Bad for them.  And bad for yourself, because whatever easy relationship you had can never be the same again.  That’s why he’s not walking with me into town anymore.  He knows he has to separate himself from me for my sake, as well as his own.  He can’t be with Lace, and knowingly continue a friendship with someone he knows is in love with him.   I want to crawl into a hole and die. It’s what I’ve been dreading all along. I am so humiliated.  For once heartbreak doesn’t come into it.  I’ve been dealing with that for months.  But I had my pride.  And now I don’t even have that.  How can I face him, knowing that he knows?  He’s probably gone over in his head all the clues he’s missed.  My moods, my insistence that he find his former self.  What a fool I’ve been thinking that it would make any difference.  If he loved me, he’d love me, memories or not.  The hijacking wasn’t the cause.   His love for me had simply burned out.  Or he’s been right all this time.  It was illusion.  Never real in the first place.  How stupid I’ve been.  Peeta’s been telling me all along how he feels, but I’ve refused to accept it.   I don’t know how long I stay on the porch. It’s like I can’t move, because to do so will require some kind of action, or emotion on my part.  A great weariness seems to have pervaded my very bones.  I haven’t felt this way since those early days when I returned to 12, when my entire world had shrunk to an old rocker in a corner of my kitchen.   It seems such a comforting thing, to shut the world out entirely, and not have to deal with it.  Across the road, I see the lights in Peeta’s house go out.  Johanna has retired for the night then.  Haymitch is still up.  Even from here I can hear his television blaring.  Whether I participate or not, life goes on.  

I stretch out my stiffened legs and rise from the porch.  Perhaps this is for the best, this end of hope.  I can give up this game.  That the question of whether I can regain Peeta’s love has been answered, even if that answer is a resounding no.   I’m now entirely free to act as I wish because whatever I do won’t make a scrap of difference as far as Peeta is concerned. I can survive this just as I’ve survived everything else.  I know I can. It might even mark the start of something new and exciting.  I’ll try every food at the feast.  Or I could be like Peeta.  He found love again.  What did he say to me once long ago, when I despaired that I will never again be loved as he had loved me?     “I hope that you will, and it will the kind of love where you both feel the same way about each other." Marcus has started to pack away his maps when I enter the house.   “How was Haymitch?” he asks. “He’s good.  We had to sit through “One Life to Live” though.  Celia lost her virginity and Blake is miserable.  That’s all you really need to know.” “Good to see the tables turned for a change. And no, I don’t watch it, if that’s what you’re thinking.  I’ve just seen the advertising on TV for it.” I walk over to the table and peer down at one of the charts.  It’s an aerial photograph of the lake area.  A small square structure at the edge of the lake must be the concrete house.   Marcus comes to stand close behind me. “I’ve been mapping out walks we can do from the lake.  Nothing too arduous.  I thought it would be nice if we have time to simply relax and enjoy the surroundings. Here, I’ll show you one of them.” He takes one of my hands and traces a loop that takes in a densely wooded area nearby.  I know it well.  

His body is warm against my back, and I press into it.  The hand that covers mine comes to rest around my waist to pull me closer.  Something stirs in me, something primitive and wholly physical that has been suppressed for far too long.   And there’s something else too.   The need for human contact?  Affection? Reassurance that even if Peeta doesn’t want me I’m still desirable and worthy of being loved?   I don’t know and I don’t stop to analyze it.  I’m done with thinking.  I want to be a creature purely of the senses, unconcerned with anything beyond this moment.  His free hand pushes aside my braid and his head dips to nuzzle my neck.   His beard, rough and soft at the same time, sends tiny shockwaves of pleasure down the entire length of my body.  And when I turn within the circle of his arms, his lips are waiting for me.  

[mschifknight]

Graveyard Sweethearts

It’s the most wonderful time of the year so that obviously means it’s time for a Sasuhina holiday themed fic.... A Halloween AU, of course! 

Hopefully this means I can eventually deliver on all that shit I said a while ago about certain one shots (Chibiventures, Sasuhina Month, ect.) 

Enjoy!

Hinata watched with fascination as her hands began to solidify. It was always an incredible sight to take in and her smile grew when she looked down at the rest of her body. She gathered the skirt of her dress and started to hurry away from the dark abyss within the old twisted tree. It had been there since before her time but she never could’ve imagined what lay within it. It was only as a spirit that she knew its true purpose; a portal to the living world.

“Wait for me.”

She turned around and cocked her head. “General?”

Sasuke straightened his blue military jacket, taking a moment to frown at the medals that adorned it and dusted them.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Hinata said. “Again.”

“Hn.”

She beamed at him. “Ooh. Do you have someone to see? Perhaps you’d like to see your descendants-?”

“They’re all disappointments,” Sasuke replied gruffly. “The last I saw they were living solely off the wealth my family worked hard for, and contributing nothing to the country’s security. No, I’d rather not see how worse they’ve gotten.”  

“Oh.” Hinata didn’t want to seem rude, after all she had been trained to be the perfect lady but she wanted to hurry and take in as much as she could before the night was over. If she angered the General, he wouldn’t let it go and she’d literally suffer for eternity hearing about how she wronged him. She forced a smile on her face but Sasuke saw right through it.

“Well, are you just going to spend the whole time lingering with the dead or are you going to socialize with the living as usual? If we aren’t going to do anything, we might as well head back now,” he said.

Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“If I’m going to be out here for the evening, I’d prefer to be with someone who was raised with class,” he elaborated. “Or else I might end up living up to my bloody reputation.”

Hinata’s mood brightened; she had always wanted to take someone along with her when the barrier was weak. But the world of the dead was infinite and never ending. Hinata hadn’t found anyone she knew and the only measure of time she had was when she stepped through the veil on All Hallows Eve for the first time. She was dismayed to find out it had been around 70 years since she last took a breath.

The feeling of loneliness was immense and when she came back to join the world of the dead, she felt depressed. It was similar to when she realized she had first died. As any other spirit that wakes after death, Hinata had been distraught. She felt like it was a mistake and that she should still be alive. Slowly, she grew to accept the facts but it did nothing to lessen her grief. Her only companion was the General, Sasuke Uchiha, who seemed to take a liking to her. It was unusual since he seemed to scare off other spirits but he was always cordial to her and helped make the transition easier.

Hinata didn’t know much about his time when he was alive and Sasuke never mentioned what war he died in but the way his face darkened, she knew he didn’t want to relive it. Hinata respected his secrecy; most spirits didn’t reveal much about their own demise unless it was heroic or noteworthy.

She also didn’t care to tell others about the poisoned drink that ended her life; she didn’t know who wanted to murder her sister and never found out. Her death was purely accidental and she hadn’t thought much about sipping from Hanabi’s cup, immediately she was overcome by the burning sensation and shortness of breath. The last thing she saw amid the chaos that erupted was her sister’s tear streaked face as she held on to her dying older sister.

It had been difficult but having a friend made it easier to bear. The only argument they had was deciding whether or not to step through the veil during All Hallows Eve when the barrier between the living and dead is at its weakest. He had always refrained until she pestered him enough and he took the opportunity to check up on the living Uchihas. They had gone their own ways for the first time since they met and Hinata was saddened when he came back in a foul mood. She stopped asking him and had gone alone ever since.

“What do you usually do?” Sasuke asked impatiently.

“I find a largest gathering of people and have fun! Sometimes I’m just invited to parties by complete strangers!” Hinata happily replied. “If not, then I just walk around. You should see all the children and the disguises they wear. Oh, it’s such a wonderful sight, General!”

If she wasn’t dead already, Sasuke would’ve been worried about her decisions. “When we’re out here, you should call me by my first name,” he huffed. He had insisted she stop calling him by his military rank for quite some time but when she said it so affectionately, he realized he didn’t mind as much.  

Happily agreeing, she grabbed his hand and rushed them out of the dead silent graveyard. She looked around for signs of life. “What do you want to do first, Sasuke? Oh, I think you’d like the….”

The sensation of touching someone again after so long had left him briefly stunned and he instinctively squeezed her hand. So she is soft…

“Did you hear me, Sasuke?”

He looked up from their joined hands to see her looking back at him. “…What?”

Hinata pointed towards a lightly lit area. There was always a party downtown. “Are you ready?”

Sasuke nodded and they headed towards the rising sounds of laughter and music. He scowled at the bright lights and people acting like buffoons while wearing horrid disguises. He took a glance at Hinata who looked like she was about to burst with excitement.

“Look! Have you seen anything so amazing?”

The dead general tried not to grimace at the “decorations” adorning the once small town he helped defend. He stepped closer towards Hinata as a gang of children ran past, hauling stuffed bags. They both tensed when he pressed his body against hers. Sasuke quickly stepped back and coughed, releasing her hand in the process. “Pardon.”

“It’s fine.”

They walked deeper into the town Halloween celebration. Sasuke bit his tongue whenever something annoyed him as to not ruin the evening for Hinata. He glanced over at her, his lip quirking upwards as she looked positively delighted at the jovial atmosphere.

Hinata had once joked that he would get tired of her, but it had been decades before they had their first argument. They simply got along marvelously which surprised those that knew Sasuke’s unpleasant attitude.

Before she came along he was a wandering spirit who kept to himself. He knew about the one night of the year when they could pass through the veil but he had accepted his death and saw no need to go back even for a short period of time. He had been the one to tell her about it when she looked particularly sad as she wondered if her sister was still alive.

Sasuke remained behind, waiting anxiously until she returned. Hinata hadn’t seen her sister and was still in shock after seeing how much time had actually passed. But she still held hope that the next year she could find someone she knew. However she never did, but it didn’t stop her from going back every Hallows Eve.

He didn’t understand her desire to go every year but she was happier and in turn that made him feel better even if he resisted going with her. In his opinion, it’s a cruel experience to endure; why would she indulge in such brief happiness when all it did was remind her of her grim circumstance?

“We should dance!” Hinata suggested.

Sasuke sneered as he looked at the people around them. “This is what they consider dancing?”

“Are you going to turn down everything I suggest?” she pouted. “Can you at least try to have a nice time?”

“I am trying,” he replied tersely. She narrowed her eyes. “Fine, I’ll dance with you at some point this evening but I get to choose when.”

Hinata beamed at him and clapped her hands together. “That sounds lovely, I look forward to it.”

In better spirits, they walked around with Sasuke becoming more relaxed but he felt that he was holding Hinata back from doing things. She denied it but he appreciated her consideration especially when he started to get overwhelmed and reached out to hold her hand at times.

.

.

“Hey, baby! Wanna have a good time?” A man slurred. “How about we go somewhere more private?”

Sasuke snarled at the drunk man who approached them. The stranger didn’t take notice of the war general that had killed many men and tried to look charming in his vampire costume.

Hinata smiled politely at him but stepped closer to Sasuke. “No thank you, I’m here with my friend.”

“C’mon. I’m not as scary as I look. I just want to bite something sweet,” the vampire joked. He grabbed Hinata’s hand. Before Sasuke could break his arm, Hinata kneed him in the groin and dusted her dress as he writhed on the ground.

“Never touch a lady against her will,” she scolded. “I hope you’ll be more courteous in the future.”

Shocked, Sasuke felt incredibly proud of her. He had always been protective over the noble lady so it was nice to know that she wasn’t as trusting as he thought. Offering his elbow, he escorted her away from the filth.

After making their way past the “haunted attractions” Sasuke scowled at yet another approaching male, this one donned in a striped suit and ghoulish makeup. The first man had been incredibly insolent and his protectiveness kicked in. The blond man noticed his hostility and faltered in his steps. However he glanced at the woman who caught his attention and it doused any fear.

“Hi! My name is Naruto!”

“Hello,” Hinata replied. “I’m Hinata and this is my friend Sasuke.”

“Nice to meet ya!” Naruto grinned. “I like your costumes. They look really authentic.”

Sasuke remained impassive.

“…Thank you.” Hinata gave Sasuke a look.

“So I was just wondering if you guys would like to enter a contest. We’re kind of short on entries for a costume contest at Ichiraku’s,” Naruto explained. “I promise it’ll be really fun.”

Teuchi had sent him on a mission to draw up more attendance to the restaurant and he had already signed up five more people. But then he saw the beautiful lady in the yellow ball gown and his jaw dropped, thankful that he had a reason to start up a conversation.

Naruto glanced at the man who he had hoped was her brother and smiled. “Cool costume. I don’t see many military costumes unless it’s some G.I Joe get up. Did you make the medals yourself?” Naruto tapped on them. “Or did you buy them at Kurenai’s costume shop?”

“How dare-?!” Sasuke said. “Do you know what I had to do to get them?!”

Hinata placed her hand on his chest and faced him. “Gen… Sasuke, please. He didn’t mean any harm.”

Breathing through his nose, Sasuke stormed off. Hinata sighed and shook her head apologetically. “I’m sorry but I think we’ll have to decline your invitation.”

Disappointed, Naruto rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to offend him.”

“I know and hope you’ll excuse us,” Hinata curtseyed much to Naruto’s amusement and left.

She found Sasuke sitting on a hay bale looking miffed. “Are you okay?”

“Hn.”

She sat next to him and offered her hand. Sasuke looked away but seized it, feeling his anger melt away. “I suppose I need to work on my anger,” he admitted. “Or else I might end up killing more people than I did when I was alive.”

Hinata looked aghast until she saw his smirk. “That would be quite unfortunate,” she replied with a giggle.

.

.

Later in the evening Sasuke felt content; the children were gone, the crowd had dwindled, and even the music wasn’t as headache inducing as before. Things were dying down but Hinata’s enthusiasm hadn’t. So he insisted that she go have some fun by herself while he takes a breather. But Hinata wasn’t eager to leave him alone; she wanted to make it a very special night for Sasuke. An idea popped in her head and she reluctantly left him there watching the living and their antics while she found something to give him.

When Hinata returned with a mask, he couldn’t help but chuckle especially when she teasingly mentioned that it reminded her of him. Taking it in his hands, he agreed but liked to think he was slightly more handsome than the snarling monster.

“It hasn’t been as horrible as I thought,” Sasuke confessed. “Thank you for not abandoning me. I know I’m not the best company to have.”

“I would never!” She replied, looking appalled. “You’re my dearest friend.”

Hinata hugged him and he tensed before relaxing into her embrace. He had forgotten just how good it felt to be held especially by someone you truly cared for.

Releasing him but leaning against his shoulder, she watched as people danced in front of them with a smile on her face. Sasuke saw that her hair had gotten loose and he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She’s soft all over…

“…Um.”

Hinata turned to look at him.

“Would...would you like to…?”

“Hinata! Come dance with me!” It was the same blond man from before.  His blue eyes shined and there was a faint blush on his face.  

Hinata looked at Sasuke who tried to look indifferent. “Um…”

Naruto eyes nervously shifted to the side. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“Go,” Sasuke said monotonously. He put on the mask and shrugged. “You might as well have some fun tonight.”

Hinata still looked unsure as Naruto anxiously waited for her answer.

“I’d love to,” she replied shyly.

Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek as she was whisked away. However he was forced to turn his gaze towards them when his ears picked up on her laugh. He smiled at how she struggled to keep up with Naruto. Hinata was from another time but he didn’t know what Naruto’s excuse was for his lack of rhythm to the musical beat.

Yet they still looked like they were having fun. As he watched them dance, Sasuke suddenly felt something he hadn’t in so long; pity.

Hinata obviously loved to be in the company of the living; she looked like she belonged. But fate had been cruel and ended her life before she could truly enjoy it. Sasuke was already considered a man by the time he died, and to be honest felt like he had lived longer than he deserved for everything he did during his lifetime.

Seeing her liveliness caused Sasuke to wish she could stay, he would even stick with her despite his reservations. But some things simply weren’t mean to be; if spirits didn’t return to the hereafter, they would eventually turn into malicious poltergeists. Hinata knew this and always promised to come back, a vow that he never doubted.  

Before he met her, Sasuke felt like it wouldn’t have been so bad to give into the feelings that fueled that transformation. But with her by his side, he didn’t see himself turning into one and Sasuke would never allow that fate to befall on his dear Hinata either.

Hinata bowed after the music changed. “Thank you for the dance, kind sir.”

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck and began to fidget. “Heh, you’re welcome. So I haven’t seen you around Konoha. Did you just move in? If you need a tour guide or anything, I can give you my number. I know all the best places!”

Hinata pointed her fingers together. “I’m not staying for long, I’m only visiting.”

“Well, if you want a free meal before you go, stop by Ichiraku’s. My next shift is on Saturday and I’ll make sure you have the best meal.” His voice was full of hope. “I’d really like to see you again, Hinata.”

Hinata’s eyes lowered. “Actually, this is my last night. I need to go home.”

“Oh,” Naruto said with slumped shoulders.

“I truly am sorry,” Hinata insisted. “You have been very kind.”

Naruto forced a smile on his face. “It’s okay, I had a good time!”

“I did too.” She was stunned when he gently kissed her cheek.

“See ya later.”

“B-b-but-” Hinata stammered.

Naruto winked. “I have a feeling I’ll see you again.” He waved and disappeared into the crowd of people.

Hinata cupped her cheek, wondering if her face felt inflamed. She pressed her other palm against her chest and although it no longer beat, she imagined her heart would be racing.

“It’s almost time.”

She jumped at Sasuke’s voice.

“C’mon.”

.

.

They walked to the graveyard in silence. He looked deep in thought and Hinata held back from asking him anything. The opening at the tree trunk’s center emanated a dimming light, only visible to the dead. Hinata took a deep breath but before she could get closer, Sasuke softly pulled her back.

“I still owe you a dance,” he reminded her.

“There’s no music.”

“Hn.”

Hinata felt his hand on her waist and the other gripped her hand. He started to lead her and they moved in sync. As they danced to the music in their heads, Hinata felt cheerful seeing him so carefree and spirited. The others often speculated that he could easily become a malicious spirit if he chooses to but Hinata didn’t see any darkness in him.

Even if you had, I’d save you like you saved me from my loneliness.

Finally he spun her around and dipped her. When she was upright, they bowed to each other and finished their graveyard dance.

“Thank you,” Hinata told him. “You have been the best dance partner I’ve ever had.”

“Probably just tonight. It’s not like the competition was particularly tough,” Sasuke grunted.

Hinata giggled and shook her head. “I’m glad you didn’t have such a horrible time. I promise next year will be better!” He feigned hesitation and she grasped his hands. “I swear! We can even scare one person if it’ll make you happy.”

She looked up at him, her eyes as wide and bright as the moon overhead.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she insisted giddily. “But no children. That’s too cruel.”

“I suppose…” He cleared his throat. “Hinata?” Sasuke hated regrets and summoned his courage before it was too late and he lost the chance. “I think I’m starting to understand why you enjoy coming every year. It’s nice to feel and be felt. It’s nice to be human again.”

Hinata stared at him with a look of adoration and smiled. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Thank you for experiencing this with me. Now it truly feels special and perfect.”

Sasuke cupped her cheek and softly stroked it with his thumb. “May I kiss you?”

Hinata’s eyebrows rose higher than usual but she quickly nodded.

Standing directly in front of her, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. When he pulled away, she looked just as stunned as when Naruto kissed her. “Perhaps we can make this a tradition, too,” he suggested.

“I’d like that,” she softly replied. She turned her gaze to their joined hands, but the smile on her face was hard to miss when she looked back up at him. “Can we dance just for a while longer?”

Sasuke nodded and they swayed to the tune in their head, dancing in the graveyard even after their bodies slowly became translucent.

They held hands until they lost the ability to touch one another, becoming small orbs of light that briefly danced around each other until they disappeared into the crevice within the old twisted tree.

The veil sealed soon after, lying dormant until the next Hallows Eve.

Btw, I’ve had this Hogwarts Sasuhina AU on my mind too.... I’ll probably churn out a few one shots in between Last Link as a reward for everyone being so awesome and supportive.

[friendshipcampaign]

Journaling

I’ve been keeping some of the downtimes between Ditto and the Tome secret but this one had some plot information that the others might be interested in. (Ditto will probably tell the others about this in character once there’s a quiet moment, but given where we left things off last time who knows how long that will be?)

While Voski prepared for bed, Ditto sat down in the hall, opening the Tome of Mysnkay on her lap and writing.

"Okay! So, first things first, we're all okay. It looked a little scary there, but we got away from the shadows. Also!! There was something outside the town that you might be interested in. I think the local wizard summoned it to guard the town? That's what it sounded like from talking to the innkeeper anyway."

She described the wraith in as much detail as she could remember, adding a couple illustrations to really drive the point across.

"This town has a necromancer?" the Tome said. "Do ask them about their techniques."

Ditto made a face at that. She didn't want to judge the wizard without really meeting her, but . . . after talking to her assistant she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to talk to her at all. Besides that, the others would probably want to move on right away in the morning.

Then again, Voski did say how she wanted to support anything that might help them understand the magic they were bound by. And even if Lakaphai didn't know anything about that, maybe she had a book or something on the subject. But still. Ugh. Maybe. If Mynskay really wanted to hear about necromancy, fine, maybe. Maybe they'd find a necromancy book in the boarded up room instead, and then wouldn't have to talk to the wizard.

She looked down and realized she'd been tapping the tip of the pen on the corner of the page, making a series of nervous little dots. She pulled her hand back and said "sorry," out loud, fully aware the Tome couldn't hear her.

"I don't know if necromancy is her main thing. Her assistant said she was into conjuration, but they had to learn a bunch of other stuff to deal with some of the problems plaguing the town," she wrote. "But even if that's true, necromancy is probably a big area of study for them with all the shadows around. There's something else, too. The guard at the gate who let us in? Doesn't have a shadow. I mean, doesn't have a regular shadow. Isn't that a heck of a thing?"

". . . One always hesitates to jump to conclusions," the Tome replied, "But a gatekeeper with no shadow in a town surrounded by swarms of shadows seems unlikely to be a coincidence."

Ditto smiled at that. "Heh, yeah, I was thinking the same thing. You think their shadow turned into one of those shadows? The bitey ones?"

"It's certainly possible. Tell me more about this town and its wizard. Does it seem like the sort of place that would try to raise an undead army, or one so beholden to those in power that it wouldn't raise objections?"

"Well...talking to them it sounds more like the wizard is protecting them from the shadows. I can tell you for sure the townsfolk don't want the shadows around. The whole town seems to be doing...bad. I'm pretty sure everyone would really rather have them gone.”

“I guess it's possible the wizard is still behind the shadows, but if they are the townsfolk sure don't know about it, they're pretty sure the opposite is going on. And the inkeeper...she seemed scared out of her mind when she was talking to us. I think she might be worried that we're outsiders who are gonna go sticking our big noses into their business. (She's right to be worried. There's a locked room down that hall that definitely has some secrets in there and we're totally gonna break into it later.)"

"I didn't meet the wizard, but she has a tower in the center of the town just for her, which seems awfully fancy to me.  She's clearly worth a lot to the people here. And her assistant seems--" Ditto hesitated, looking for the right word. "Confident in how valuable they are to the town. I guess I can't blame her if the wizard is the one who summoned the wraith that keeps the shadows out, though."

"I nearly asked if you made it a habit to break into other people's property on a whim, but you're an adventurer. Of course you do,” the Tome wrote. “If I was still alive you'd be exactly the sort of person I'd go out of my way to avoid. But no, go on, enjoy your breaking and entering. And if you haven't been driven out by morning do try to ask about the wraith. It's an unusual guardian; I'd be interested to know how they did it."

Ditto's brow furrowed as she read. She licked the tip of the quill and began writing her reply.

"Okay first of all: fair. Fair. That's fair. I'll take that criticism. I wouldn't call myself an adventurer but I am...pretty much acting like one here. So...fair. But second of all...wait. You used to be alive? You didn't mention that...I just...sort of assumed you were always a book."

The Tome rustled its pages in a gesture that Ditto was pretty sure is the closest it could get to a sigh. "You really know very little about necromancy, don't you? If you'd met your elf friend when he was dead would you have assumed he'd always been a ring?"

"Well, I mean...If he'd introduced himself as The Ring of Erwyn I just might have.” Ditto replied. She was so full of questions she could almost feel them piling up behind the quill in her hand, eager to be written out. “Was Mysnkay your name before? Or is that just your book name?"

"I was known as Mynskay before I took this form, yes," said the book.

"So what happened? Or is that too personal a question to ask?” Ditto hastily added. “If it's too personal or if it's upsetting to talk about that's okay, just tell me to shut up and I will."

"I died. It was terribly inconvenient, but fortunately I'd had the foresight to set up a contingency. I'd prefer not to discuss the matter further."

"Gotcha. Sorry that happened." Ditto fiddled with the end of her quill. In the back of her mind she wondered if Erwyn and Mynskay might want to talk to each other about dying sometime. Maybe it would be nice to speak with someone who'd been through a similar thing? That sounded like a really hard conversation to set up, though. "Well, anyway...I'll let you know if we learn anything. And I'll try to talk to the wizard about necromancy stuff."

She paused, biting her lip. A part of her didn't want to write this next part, but . . . . "Actually, if you want...I could try to introduce you? You'd probably have a much better conversation with them writing in you than going back and forth through me."

"True, true.” The Tome wrote out. “You seem suspicious; is there anything about you or your companions that I should refrain from mentioning if you do set up a conversation? Or any intelligence you wish me to gather?"

"Ooh, that's a thought. Probably don't mention anything about us being in service to the fey. We're just traveling through town. And I mean...obviously don't mention us breaking into a room at the inn. And maybe don't mention Erwyn dying? Not because I think it needs to be secret, just, I think it might be kind of personal for him? It might be better to let him bring it up with other people, if he decides to at all."

Ditto considered whether she should add not mentioning that she was a wizard. But that wasn't an important lie. She just...really hadn't wanted to talk to Hayel. Or for Hayel to be too interested in her. Or for Lakaphai to be too interested in her. But she also didn't want to build up elaborate lies around it, that seemed more trouble than it was worth. She decided to just let Mynskay use their own judgement.

"Intelligence-wise . . . I mean, you did say those shadows might be caused by an academic type up in a tower.” She wrote, “and now there's an academic type up in a tower. And obviously I have a WHOLE lot to learn about necromancy and for all I know wraiths just keep shadows away, but...well, it occurred to me that if you make a bunch of shadow creatures that everyone's afraid of, and if you don't want people to get pissed at you over it, and if you have some ability to bend them to your will you could just have them stay outside the town and put a guard there to make it look like that was the reason why?"

She paused and fiddled with her quill. "And maybe that's not what's going on at all, and I'm just jumping to conclusions and being judgmental because of personal reasons? But . . . yeah, I am kind of suspicious. At least a little. So. I wouldn't say there's especially any intelligence I want you to gather but that's why I'm suspicious. And if you think I might be onto anything . . . well, that's just something to keep in mind I guess." She paused. "Oh! But...if they seem nice? Maybe you could ask them if they know much about fey magic, or if they have any books on it? Because if so I might want to talk with them too."

"Noted. I'll see what I can learn, should the opportunity present itself."

"Thanks. Oh! And...if you can figure out why the guard doesn't have a shadow? That seems like something worth knowing too." She paused. "Hopefully they're nice."

"Even if they aren't, I'll do my best to investigate.” The book wrote. “I have extensive experience dealing with writers who are less kindly than you are."

Ditto smiled at that. As the letters swirled away to make room for her reply, she dipped her pen in the red ink and drew a great big heart, with smaller hearts doodled around it. The book didn't seem to know how to respond to that. Its ink swirled around the heart for a long moment, and then it slowly sunk into the page.