#Jeremy SCRAMBLED to find a brain cell to work with

[kevinslefthand]

Jeremy is stronger than me because if some sullen, hot Frenchman who was just my type said my name “like that” I would fold like a fucking lawn chair

[thecozywhaleshark]

King of Hearts (pt. 1)

A/n: ok big oof big oof big oof I’ve just started this series and get ready folks it’s gonna be a real long one and a real steamy one and i’m excited to continue it

Word Count: 3962

Warnings: Escort Jin. A little smut (fingering). Swearing. It will only get worse from here. This is the tame part.

Summary: You are a famous writer who can’t exactly show up to an event alone... so you hire an escort... his name is Jin 

Staring anxiously at the phone before you, you tapped your fingers on your desk and tried to decide.

This was not the greatest idea you’d ever had. But it couldn’t be that bad, right? You’re not that pathetic … right? This is a thing people do… right?  And nobody would ever know… right?

You sigh and bury your face in your hands.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid book party. Stupid publisher’s meeting. Stupid erotica writer with no stupid date.

Of course, you could always show up alone, but that would spark questions.

A wonderful writer like you with no date? What a shame. So pretty too. How are you getting your inspiration? Are you between boyfriends? Do you have many one night stands?

Questions you didn’t want to deal with. How do you tell your sponsors and publishers and everyone who worked on making your books boom that you haven’t been on a date in over three years? Haven’t had sex in just as long? That your sex life was so dry even the desert probably pitied you?

You stared at the website open in front of you and moved your hand over your cell phone. It’s just one night. And for totally innocent reasons. You typed in the number, put it on speaker, and waited.

The phone clicked and a friendly woman’s voice purred through the speaker:

“Heart Escort Services, this is Cindy, how may I help you today?”

You swallowed. Of course her voice sounded like sex. Just like her trade.

Quiet, you don’t know anything about her. Don’t judge. You’re the one calling the line.

“Hello? Is anyone there? I swear to god Jeremy if this is you I’m going to report you to security because you can’t keep calling to listen to my voice and jerk off you mother-”

“Um, hello.” You stammer, and the lady on the other end goes quiet for a moment.

“Oh! I’m so sorry about that. Thank you for calling Heart Escort Services, how can I help you?”

You fiddle with the string of your hoodie and bite your lip. “Do you have male escorts?”

“We sure do! Do you have any specifics?”

You laugh nervously. “Someone handsome?”

She laughs lightly. “Honey, all our men are handsome. We are a highly sought after escort service. Not just anyone can be an escort.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You can feel yourself blushing furiously even though you knew it was just a phone call. You bury your face in your hands.

Lord God please, smite me from above.

Honestly, you didn’t care who your date was. You could always tell your publisher at the next event that it ended up being a short term fling.

“Um, do you have anyone available on March 23? I just need someone to um… escort… me to an event? It’s from 7-10pm.”

You cringe. Did I really just say ‘escort me to an event’ to an escort service? Smooth.

Cindy hums on the other end of the phone and you hear flipping – probably some sort of planner for the escort’s events.

“Alright, we have three men available on the day you requested at the time. Would you like me to give you their names and descriptions?”

You don’t want to choose. You just want a date. “Um… no… I’m not too picky.”

Cindy chortles. “That’s a first. No really, honey I’m going to need more than that. You’re paying for the service right? Then it’s okay to be picky.”

Oh, well when she puts it like that…

“Uh, what or sorry, which? Of the three is the most sociable? It’s a really social night and I need them to be able to hold their own in a room full of strangers if that’s okay? And um, younger? I’m only 24…”

You hear more clicking and humming from Cindy as she decides. “Okay, hun. I have a 26-year-old Korean man named Jin. He’s honestly one of the more talkative escorts that we have. I’m sure he would do great at your event. Just so you know, if you want him the entire night it will cost extra..”

“No!” you almost shout, then quickly backpedal. “I mean, no. No, sorry I don’t want him for the entire night. Just 7-10.”

“Alright, 7-10 it is then. Where should he meet you?”

You thought for a second. You were going to need to walk in with him. The event was at the Cedar Valley Hotel ballroom on 2nd.

“Can he meet me at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd Street?” It was down the street from the hotel, at the end of the block. They could walk up and in together.

You heard some more typing and pencil scribbling before Cindy spoke again. “Jin will meet you at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd on March 23 at 6:45 pm. He will be wearing a black suit and a red tie. Please remember that we only take cash, and you will pay him for his time.” You nod and quickly scramble over your desk for a sticky note and pen.

Jin. Black suit. Red tie. Christine’s. 6:45pm.

Cindy tells you his charge and you write it under the time with a note to make a trip to the bank, surprised at how high it is.

Of course he is dummy. He’s an escort. This place is high rank.

High, but not unreasonable you reasoned. You had the cash. He must be really good at what he does. But so were you.

“Thanks, Cindy. Anything else I should know?”

She laughs again on the other end of the line. “You should really have considered taking him for the night. You, missy, are missing out.”

You find yourself blushing furiously again and hang up. Pushing your hands through your hair and letting out a long breath.

You’re really doing this. You just hired an escort. You laughed to yourself and got out of your chair. If only your mother could see you now. Wouldn’t she be so proud?

You walk over to your closet and begin to flip through it. Black suit. Red tie. Black suit. Red Tie. What did you have that matched that?

 ~ three weeks later ~

 You stepped out of your taxi and fidgeted with your dress, pulling the hem down. You hadn’t realized how much it had shrunk when you decided to risk throwing it into the washer instead of taking it to the dry cleaners, and now your originally knee-length black pencil dress came down only to mid-thigh. You checked yourself out in the reflective glass of the café.

Simply cut black pencil dress – classy with just a little bit of décolletage and leg on display.

3 1/2-inch heels – as high as you can go without falling while you walk.

Simple crystal earrings.

Loose low bun with just the right amount of face-framing.

Black and silver beaded clutch.

You walked into the café and headed to the bathroom.

Makeup on point. Just touch of the red lipstick – red to match his tie – and you’re good.

You step out of the bathroom, putting your lipstick in your purse and sit down at one of the tables by the window, glancing at the time.

6:37 pm. You’re early.

You sip a glass of water nervously, trying hard not to bite your fingernails.

Please be here. Please don’t be late. Please be at least cute.

You swirled the condensation left from your glass on the table with the tip of your finger and looked at your phone again.

6:39pm.

God, those three minutes seemed like an eternity.

At 6:45pm on the dot, the door of the café dings open and a tall, handsome man strides in. He has purpose in every step, and you can’t stop yourself from staring as he glances around the room, sees you, and turns on his heel coming your way, dropping into the seat opposite of you.

Damn. He’s hot. Like really hot. Stupid handsome hot in a suit and tie. Nobody looks that good in a suit. And shoulders. SHOULDERS. How the fuck –

“Are you y/n?” he asks casually, crossing his legs and looking at you with one eyebrow quirked.

“How-how did you know?” you stutter, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear.

He leans forward and gives you a grin. “We’re the two best-dressed people in this establishment.”

You look around you and laugh. You definitely were. Two people in formalwear in a place that suggests jeans and sweaters.

“I guess the formal dress would give it away.” You smile at him and he grins back, putting you more at ease.

Stupid handsome guy has a nice smile. Of course he does. Shut up, y/n.

“I’m Jin.” He holds out his hand. 

You shake it, trying to give him a warm smile and not look creepy or freaked out. “Y/n, but I see you already know that.” 

“I hear we’re going to an event? What kind of event?”

You fold your hands in front of you to stop them from fidgeting. “I will tell you, but you can’t laugh.”

He leans forward even more, resting his face in his palm. “Ooo, this sounds interesting.”

“I’m serious.” You try to pull a serious face and he sits up and folds his hands in front of him too.

“Serious.”

You nod. “Okay. So this event, it’s a publisher’s dinner. Fancy thing. I’m an author, and it’s important. Help’s me keep in contact with my sponsors and donors and team who made my publishing’s possible.”

“What kind of books do you write?” he looks genuinely interested. You hesitate and decide to tell him a half-truth.

“Uh- romance. Romance novels. Real cheesy stuff.”

He nods and you can see him trying to hide his smile. You give him a side-eye. “Shut up.”

He works his jaw and takes a deep breath. Trying to hold his laughter. “I’m not laughing.”

“Yeah, but you want to. I can see it.”

He smiles then, a big one this time. “Hey wait you’re the one who just referred to her own works as, and I quote, ‘real cheesy stuff.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers and you laugh.

“That’s because it is!”

“If you think it’s cheesy, why do you write it?”

You look back down at the table with a smile and swirl the water on your table in a squiggly line. “Because people like cheese, it sells well.”

He laughs. “I bet.”

“So anyway, I can’t exactly show up to this meeting alone. Everyone thinks that I get my ideas from experience… when I do not.” You blush and look down again.

“Because you use your brain.” Says Jin and you look up, surprised at his answer.

This is the first person to know what I mean without teasing me about my lack of a sex life...

“Exactly! Nobody wants to understand that I’m using my own brain and imagination and information that I researched and read instead of personal experience.” You roll your eyes and give him a big smile and he chuckles.

“Because people are idiots and want to think they know everything,” he replies and you nod in confirmation.

He gives you an easy smile. “So a publisher’s party for a cheesy romance novelist who just wants them to stay out of her personal life. Sounds fun.” He stands and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You softly place your hand in the crook of his arm. “Well now, don’t I feel fancy.”

He laughs and puts his hand over yours. “If we are playing a fake couple, we better start acting like one, dearest.”

You find yourself turning red again. Damn it easily blushing face stop it. “Of course… honey.”

He grins at you. “That’s the spirit!”  

Together you walk down the street and into the hotel lobby. The desk clerk gestures you on towards the ballroom and you easily are able to find it. Taking a deep breath you place your hand on the door and look at Jin.

“You ready?” He asks, and you nod.

“Let’s do this.”

“You forgot my pet name, pumpkin.”

You roll your eyes and open the door, giving him a sugary sweet smile over your shoulder. “Sorry, babe. Now come along dear, I simply must introduce you to my publisher.”

He grins and wraps his arm around your waist, and you can only pray you can pull this off.

~

You had been at the party for over an hour now, and Jin had been great. Really great. He introduced himself as your boyfriend, and he had been making it really fun as you played pretend. Currently, you were talking to a group of your publishers and sponsors, and Jin was winning them all over with his quick smile, easy charm, bad dad jokes, and of course, his good looks. The conversation had drifted from small talk to your books quickly, and you hated it. You hated when the attention turned back on you, and you hoped nothing too revealing would be said that outed your real writing to Jin.

“And the entirety of chapter 57?! Whoo! I tried some of that out with my husband, and I have no idea how Emilia did it! We only did one of the things mentioned you know, and I’ve never been more exhausted in my life!” chimes in Julia, your publisher, fanning herself with her hand.

“Emilia?” whispers Jin, leaning down to get to your ear. “The main character in one of my books, baby,” you whisper back and Jin nods, straightening up.

“Ah yes, Emilia.” He says louder. “I love her.” You bite back your grin as your publisher coos over him.

“Of course you do, who wouldn’t?! You’re such a supportive boyfriend for reading all your books!”

So far, so good. We’re safe.

“Y/n, you do write some of the best erotica I’ve ever read in my life. Where do you learn it all?” asks Marilyn, one of your sponsors, patting your arm gently.

Shit. I jinxed it. So much for hoping nobody brings it up.

Jin chokes on his drink and tries to hide it with a cough, grabbing your arm gently. “Sorry, ladies, gentlemen,” he nods at your publishing team. “I think I’m having a coughing fit. Y/n, sweetie, would you mind stepping out to get some air with me?”

You rub his back in mock sympathy. “Sure, darling. Are you okay?”  

“I just think I need some air, peanut.”

You can’t help your smirk as you show him to the balcony. As soon as you get through the glass doors and they close behind you, Jin doubles over laughing. “You write erotica?! You??”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Hey! That’s mean.”

He leans against the balcony rail and tries to steady himself. “Wait wait wait… sorry, but the lady who writes best-selling erotica… hired an escort?! Oh, my god.”

You sigh and lean against the railing. “Are you done?”

He gasps for air and wipes tears out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. I’m good.” He straightens his tux and takes a deep breath. “I’m a professional.”

You roll your eyes. “You sure act like one.”

He smiles at you, but it’s not mean. “You’re easy to be around. This is a fun job. Normally I have to work with a lot more stiff old people.” He makes a face and you laugh.

You both stand in the cold air in silence for a few moments and he takes off his jacket, placing it around your shoulders.

You try to ignore the shiver that does down your spine when his fingers brush your bare arms and look down at it and pick up part of it with your fingers, trying to act like it’s no big deal.

“What is this? Special treatment? I didn’t know I got the deluxe deal! Oh me oh my!”

He scoffs. “I may be an escort, but I’m a gentleman.”

You nod. “Very gentlemanly.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

You smile. “Are you sure you won’t be cold?”

He gives you a soft smile. “What? Oh, I’m fine. I’m very warm actually. Steamy. Especially now that I know a little of Julia’s sex life.”

You laugh. “I wish conversations got better than that, but unfortunately, when you write about sex, that’s all anyone ever wants to talk about.”

He nods. “I understand that. When you’re an escort, that’s all everyone wants to talk about too.”

“Wait.. isn’t it your job to talk sex?” you giggle and he nudges you with his elbow. “Usually there’s not that much talking” he winks and you laugh.

“Okay dude, TMI.”

“TMI?! You’re the one who writes erotica! Descriptively!” he cries and you laugh again as he shakes his head.

You are both silent for a few moments before he speaks again. “Okay, but, really, what happens in Chapter 57?”

You feel your lips quirk up in a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He looks at you incredulously. “You’re going to leave me hanging?”

“Yes, you just laughed at the fact that I write erotica!”

“I was surprised!” He defends, placing his hand over his heart. “You told me you wrote cheesy romance. I feel betrayed.”

You laugh and shove him with your shoulder. “It is a cheesy romance novel…. That just happens to have a lot of smut.”

“I told you about my sex life!” he accuses and crosses his arms, pouting. “I want to know about Chapter 57.”

God, he’s cute when he pouts.

You shrug off his jacket and hand it back to him as you walk away, smirking over your shoulder.

“Then you can buy it online or at a bookstore. It’s called Wildcard. I’ve heard it’s quite popular.” You open the door and gesture him to move. “Now come on, I think you’ve recovered from your choking hazard and I have more people I have to talk to.”

He puts his jacket back on and follows you back out into the decorated ballroom, mumbling about being left on a cliffhanger and what the frick was Chapter 57 and how you’re so mean to him, really princess, you can’t give your favorite escort a brief rundown?

You ignore him and link your arm through his again as you wade back into the room, getting called over almost immediately by your editor, who wants you to meet some more people.

~

At the end of the night, you take him to a secluded hallway in the hotel and pull the money out of your purse, watching him count it as you rub your arm nervously.

“Hey,” you say, and he looks up, raising an eyebrow. “I just, wanted to say, thanks… for saving my ass in there… you really did me a solid by being my date tonight.” You laugh and look away, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Well… you did hire me…” he trails off, tucking the cash into his coat pocket.

You blush. “I know, but still… thanks. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.”

You flick your eyes to his briefly and he looks around the hall before striding forward and cupping the back of your neck, kissing you.

You gasp in surprise and he easily slips his tongue in. You find yourself clutching at the lapels of his coat as he deepens the kiss, his other hand sliding up the side of your thigh, under your dress.

You pull back and look at him wide-eyed as he slides his hand up towards your panties. “Jin?”

He smirks and continues to slide his hand slowly up. “You overpaid. I thought you didn’t want me all night?”

You feel your cheeks redden, but your gaze can’t leave his face. “I-I just tipped you.”

He licked his lips and pressed them back to yours before kissing his way down your jaw. “I think you wanted a little…taste, baby” he whispered huskily as he nips at your neck.

I should turn away. I should push him off. It was just a tip… but OH what did he just do to my neck?? god, do it again..

You moan softly as he works his way down your neck and cups you through your panties. Your heart pounds against your chest as you choose to ignore your logical mind and do something you’ve never done before…

Oh, what the hell.

…just let it happen.

You spread your legs a little further for him and moan in his ear as he begins to rub you through your panties.

“So wet for me? Already? And here I thought you just hired me as pretty eye candy,” he grins against your neck as you grab his hair, tugging his mouth back to yours, desperate for something, anything.

He slides his fingers under the side of your panties and you bite his lip when he teases his fingers up and down your folds, sliding against your slick.

“Ooo, you’re a feisty one, I see,” he smirks and nips your mouth right back, sliding his fingers slowly against you.

You had never been this turned on in your life, despite having past boyfriends who had tried and a few hookups… but none of them had ever felt this good. Had made you feel this good.

“Jin,” you moan, bucking your hips into his hand. “More.”

“As you wish ma ’lady” he nips harshly at your neck and you yelp, but he quickly lavishes over it with his tongue, soothing as his finger drags your slick to your clitoris and he begins to circle it slowly.

The back of your head hits the hallway wall, exposing more of your neck to Jin’s lips as you have to bite your own hand to stifle your moans when he slips a finger inside you.

He moans against your neck and pulls away from it with a pop, resting his forehead against your own.

“God, y/n, you’re so tight,” he whispers, pumping his finger in and out of you and then adding a second.

You buck your hips against his hand and he beings to curl his fingers up, grazing your sweet spot so deliciously as he begins to make out with you again to soften your moans.

He works you like this for a little while and you start keening, panting his name into his mouth while your hands clutch at his hair and shoulders to keep your balance standing up.

It’s all so much, too much, for someone who hasn’t been touched like this in years, and you find yourself burying your face into his chest when he presses his thumb to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and you come hard over his fingers, moaning his name.

He works you through your orgasm and as you come down you blush red again, realizing that you just let an escort, that you paid for, get you off in a back hotel hallway.

You hide in his shirt a few moments longer, trying to breathe until he gently pushes you off his chest and slides his fingers out from your underwear. You pull back, your hands still on his shoulders and he smirks seductively as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, making you blush harder.

He then shoves that hand in his pocket and backs away from you, giving you a two-fingered salute with his other hand.

“See you around, y/n. That was fun.”

He winks and turns, strolling out of the hotel doors, leaving you open-mouthed, panting, and wondering why that had been the best orgasm you’d ever had.

~~

Part 2 

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Purrtrait of a Disaster

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court.  Neil is conflicted, as usual.  Next in the Mewment Like This series.   Read the rest:  Name Games,  That Cocky F*%!ing Smile, and Imagine Me and Mew, Too F*%!ing Deep , Don’t Freak Meowt, and Absolute F*%!ing Ridiculous.  On AO3 if you prefer.  TW for panic attack.

Neil cursed inwardly when he realized neither Jean nor Jeremy were at the pub when he got there.  He checked his phone.  He was almost half an hour early. Damnit.

He strolled up the street for a couple of blocks until the cold leached through his clothes.  Like an idiot, he’d left his jacket at home, taking the daytime warmth for granted.  With a sigh that made the air gust white in front of him, he turned and shivered his way back.

Ducking through the crowd, he made his way up to the bar.  He ordered Jeremy’s favorite craft beer and Jean’s wine, and a ginger ale for himself.  The bartender snorted at him.  “I’m going to need to see some ID, kid.”

Maybe Nicky wasn’t exactly wrong about how he came across.  He fished his wallet out of his pocket and pulled out his license.  The man examined it, eyeballing him suspiciously before tossing it back at him.  He snatched it out of the air before it hit the counter and stuffed it back in next to his social security card.

A girl bellied up to the bar next to him and ordered some drink with a weird name.  These always baffled Neil; he still didn’t understand why someone thought Anus Burner or Cock Sucking Cowboy were appealing names for a beverage.  The girl didn’t get carded, Neil noticed, though he was willing to bet she was younger than he was.  

There was a game on the TV over the bar and the flash of a white jersey caught his eye.  Baseball.  Spring training.  Why must they put baseball on at the earliest possible moment?  There weren’t even real games being played yet and they were already melting his brain cells.

“Hey,” came a voice next to him.  He turned to find the girl looking at him, a smile playing on her lips.  “I’m Marissa.”

He stared at her blankly.  Was that supposed to mean something to him?  Had Jeremy invited someone along and he’d forgotten?  “Neil,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat.

Her smile grew.  “I’m supposed to be meeting my friend here but she just texted me that her asshole boyfriend is making her have dinner with his parents instead.”  Clearly not one of Jeremy’s friends, then.  He wondered why she was telling him this.  “You waiting for someone?”

“Yeah.”

“Girlfriend?” she asked, lips pursing into a pout.

“My coworkers.”

“Well, you should hang with me instead,” she said, brushing his arm with her hand.  “I’m much more fun.”  He glanced down at her hand on his arm and wondered why she was touching him.  He didn’t mind, exactly, but it was strange.

“I like my coworkers.”

“Trust me,” she said with a little laugh that sounded fake.  “You’ll have a better time with me.”

He stared at her, confused about why she was so sure when she didn’t even know him or his friends.

“He’s not interested.”  Jeremy appeared next to him, Jean right behind him.  Neil almost sighed in relief.

“Who are you, his boyfriend?”  There was a hint of acid in her bubblegum voice and Neil went rigid at the change.

Jeremy smiled pleasantly.  “Just his friend.”

“Then you don’t get a say.”  She looped her arm through Neil’s.  “You want to come with me, right, Neil?”

Neil looked at Jean and Jeremy.  “She wants you to go home with her,” Jean said in rapid French.  “If you want to we won’t stop you.”

Neil responded in kind.  “Why would I want to do that?”

“Do you want to sleep with her?  If you do we won’t stop you.”

Neil recoiled slightly, almost yanking his arm out of Marissa’s grasp.  “You can’t be serious.”

Jean gave a wry smile.  “I’m pretty sure she is.”

Neil’s stomach twisted.  He had no interest in her, not least because he didn’t need to try to imagine the girl’s reaction if he let curiosity get the best of him and actually said yes.  Even the FBI agents and doctors had not been able to hide their revulsion at the scars that littered his body.  To some people the ones on his face made him seem interesting, but nobody had ever seen him without a shirt on and been anything other than disgusted.

She tugged on his arm, a little impatiently.  “What are you guys talking about?” she asked, pouting.

“I was asking him about a project at work,” Jean said smoothly.

Marissa rolled her eyes.  “See, Neil, I told you I’d be more fun.”

“I’m not here to have fun,” Neil said, wondering why she was still touching him.  “I’m just here for trivia night.”

Jeremy choked on his beer and Jean looked amused.  Marissa’s expression turned frosty.  “Well, good luck, then,” she said, her tone indicating that she hoped he’d die painfully in a sea of stupid questions, and she released his arm and disappeared.

“Hope you don’t mind I interrupted you back there,” Jeremy said after they had found a table and ordered their burgers.  “I didn’t mean to cockblock, I just thought you looked like you needed help.”

“I did,” Neil said.  “I still don’t know what her deal was.”

Jeremy’s expression was impossible to read, which was a rarity.  “She wanted to sleep with you.”

“Yeah, I got that from Jean.  I just don’t know why.”

Jeremy and Jean exchanged looks that Neil had no chance of deciphering and didn’t answer his question.  Jeremy jotted down their team name—Les Quizerables, and yes, Jean had come up with it—and they waited for the game to start.  

“I think we should change the name,” Jeremy said around a mouthful of burger while the guy in charge got the computer set up.

“You think the name is why we keep losing?” Jean said, his accent drawing out his disdain.

Jeremy shrugged.  “Can’t hurt, right?”

“What would we change it to?” Neil asked.  “‘And In Last Place Is…’?”

Both Jeremy and Jean laughed.  “Fuck off, Neil,” Jeremy said, but he sounded affectionate.

It was their usual debacle, Jeremy being good at sports and movies and Jean at music and none of the three of them doing much more than brain freezing for any other questions, even the obvious ones.  Neil knew two answers, an all-time high.  Jean and Jeremy seemed oddly disturbed that one of the two was that a human has nine pints of blood.  Neil himself was more agitated by the fact that he knew Baltimore was Maryland’s largest city.  It took him a minute before he could stop smelling the odd mix of fish and garbage that permeated that city’s streets.

For the first time, they didn’t finish last.  Jeremy’s celebration at being second to last seemed a bit overblown, but Neil thought that was the beer talking.  He was just relieved to get back to his apartment and cuddle with a very needy King for a while.  He started a text to Andrew: A girl tried to pick me up tonight—but deleted it.  As much as he wanted to talk to him about it, it seemed wrong to do via text.  Instead he typed out did you hear why god created snakes before lawyers?  He waited a while for an answer but his phone remained silent and eventually he dropped into a dreamless sleep.

He startled awake and glanced around the apartment, reaching instinctively under his pillow, his hand closing on nothing.  There was a faint scratching sound that his brain recognized after a few agonizing seconds as King using the litter box.  He slumped back down in his pillows and dropped his arm over his eyes.  Shit.

As he lay there he found himself getting more awake instead of less.  He squirmed around, trying to get comfortable in the tangle of his blankets.  It didn’t help that he was hard.  Usually if he ignored it it just went away after a while, but he knew from experience that he was more likely to fall back asleep if he helped it along.  With a sigh that sounded aggravated even to his own ears he grabbed the tissues off the nightstand.

His mind skipped around as he stroked himself lazily, half of it focusing on the sensation and half skimming the surface of the things he had to do that week.  The image of Andrew, standing squarely in front of that giant splash of a red painting, popped into his head.  Then of him outside, the sunlight turning his hair and eyes into different shades of gold.  He froze: he had never thought of anyone while doing this, not like that.  He’d never…pictured someone.  But he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if it was Andrew’s hand on him instead of his own.  Or his hand on Andrew—

When he came, it was more intense than usual.  And when he dropped back onto the bed after cleaning himself up, sleep was nowhere to be found.

*****

Part of him was dreading running into Nicky at the gym, but it occurred to him as he changed in the locker room bathroom that he may be able to do a little reconnaissance about Andrew.  Nicky looked almost startled to see him and came over while Neil was still setting his water in the treadmill cupholder.  “I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” Nicky said by way of greeting.

“It’s raining,” Neil answered, puzzled.

Nicky just looked at him for a moment as he started the treadmill up at a walking pace.  “I do want to apologize.  I really should have let you know what I was thinking.”

Neil nodded.  “It’s all right.  I’m sorry I bailed.”

“No, I get it.  Andrew bailed too.  It meant I didn’t have to cook all weekend though so that was good.”

Guilt tugged at the pit of Neil’s stomach.  “I do want to hang out with you guys,” he said as he turned the speed up to a light jog.  “I just don’t want to be set up.”

Nicky brightened.  “You want to come over tonight?”

Neil pictured his apartment, blank except for King.  “You guys want to come over instead?  You can bring that movie you were talking about and I’ll order something.”

“Lemme check with Erik!”  Nicky scrambled off and Neil set in to really run.

By the time he had finished, Erik had replied that he would meet them at Neil’s apartment with the movie and food.  Nicky’s shift was over and he was waiting for Neil when he came out of the shower.  King was startled by the appearance of an extra human but remembered Nicky quickly and was soon doing her best to trip him by twisting through his legs.  

“Aww, baby.  I’ve missed you!” Nicky cooed and picked her up.  He was the only person other than Neil she allowed to do so, and Neil couldn’t help but grin as she settled onto Nicky’s shoulder and sniffed his cheek.  He surreptitiously took a picture and sent it off to Andrew.  

Your cousin’s not all bad

A minute later his phone vibrated in his pocket.  I see how it is

Neil put the phone away.  The last thing he needed was for Nicky to notice.  He snagged one of the beers he kept in the fridge for just such an occasion and brought it over to Nicky.  “What’s the story with Erik and your cousin anyway?” he asked.  

“Oh, that.”  Nicky made a face.  “Andrew—he’s a great person, but he’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type, you know what I mean?”  Neil nodded, though he couldn’t say he agreed.  “Well, a couple of years ago he and his brother had a huge fight and Erik sided with Aaron.”  Neil felt an unpleasant jolt.  He hadn’t even realized Andrew had a brother.  “Now Aaron lives in Chicago and Andrew lives here.”

“So you sided with Andrew?”

Nicky shrugged, looking uncomfortable.  “Not really.  I mean, I kind of saw both sides of it.  I kept thinking they’d get over it but it’s been almost three years and they haven’t spoken.”  He petted King for a moment.  “It’s funny, everyone always thinks Andrew’s the stubborn one, but I think he’d let it go if Aaron would.  But Aaron just can’t.  I guess it was one thing too many.”

Neil wanted desperately to know what had happened, but he didn’t feel right pushing further.  It was a relief when the buzzer sounded and he had to get up to let Erik in.  The movie involved some people of various colors, a talking raccoon, and a walking tree riding around in a spaceship blasting old music.  He was completely lost within five minutes but he didn’t really care.  Nicky and Erik were laughing and King was purring in his lap and it was good.  Not the same kind of good as wandering through a museum with Andrew, but good all the same.

He had never known there were so many different kinds of good.  So many different little flavors to happiness.  It had started with the weight of a brass key in his hand, and now…now there was laughing Jeremy happiness and purring cat happiness and smiling Nicky happiness, and a dozen different types of happiness centered around Andrew.

Nicky and Erik left a little after nine, and Neil pulled out his phone.  You still up?

The phone rang a minute later and he couldn’t keep from smiling as he picked it up.  “Well that answers one of my questions.”

There was a brief pause, then Andrew said, “What makes you think it was God who created lawyers?”

Neil laughed.  “Okay, that’s a better answer than I had.”

“Of course it is.”  He sounded exhausted, his voice wrung-out and slow.

“Should I let you get some sleep?” Neil asked.

“You’re the one who had to deal with my cousin tonight.”

“Eh, Nicky’s fine.”  All his questions jumbled together, fighting for primacy, and he ended up not saying anything.

“Spit it out, Josten.”

Neil opened his mouth and closed it again, wondering how Andrew could tell over the phone.  “I, uh, didn’t know you had a brother.”

Andrew snorted.  “Is that what has you all wrapped up in knots?  Yes, I have a brother.  And no, I’m not going to kill Nicky for telling you.”

“Any other hidden family members I should know about?  Wife and two kids, perhaps?”

That earned him a tired laugh.  “Of the two of us, I am not the one with secrets about my family.”

An icy knife twisted in Neil’s gut.  He pulled the phone away from his ear, instinct screaming at him to hang up, destroy the phone, get out get out get OUT.  His heartbeat pounded in his ears, louder than the desperate pull of air through his teeth.  For some reason the room was going blurry.  He tried to take a step, but his knees were weak and he ended up crumpling onto the couch.

“Neil.  Neil.  NEIL.”  Muffled cursing was emanating from somewhere near his abdomen when he finally got a deep enough breath to be able to register.  He fumbled around and felt the hard edge of his phone.  Huh.  He thought he’d hung up.  His thumb found the red button and pressed it and he fell and he fell and he fell.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when the buzzer to his apartment rang insistently, pushing through the fog.  King was curled up against his side, a tiny island of warmth.  He buried his cold hand in her fur and she gave a quiet chirp and tucked herself more tightly against him.  The buzzer sounded again. And again.

They were all dead or in jail, he reminded himself, all of his father’s people. There was no one left to come after him.  He would have been notified if anybody had been released.  With an effort, he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled over to the door and answered.  “Yes?”

“You’re alive.”  Andrew.  

“I’m fine.”

There was a beat of silence, then “Okay.”  There was something in that word—resignation, or maybe just fatigue—that thawed Neil.  

He pushed the button to unlock the door.  He had no idea if Andrew was actually coming up or not; his legs still felt shaky underneath him, the room a little surreal.  After a couple of minutes there was a single knock and he opened the door.

“What the fuck, Neil.”  There was no heat to his voice; Neil thought he would have preferred it if there were.

Neil just pulled the door wider and waited.  Andrew stared at him for a long moment then came in.  He looked even more worn than he sounded, as if something was rubbing sandpaper across his facade and showing the cracks underneath.  “You look like shit,” Neil said.

“Likewise.”  No doubt, but that was pretty much always true for Neil.  Andrew usually was so self-possessed, it was startling to see him like this.  Neil went into his tiny excuse for a kitchen and started heating water, then got out two cups and dropped tea bags in them.  

Andrew picked up the box of tea.  “I had no idea you were actually a middle-aged woman,” he said, reading the label.  “Your disguise is excellent.”

Neil flipped him off with one hand and poured the water into the cups with the other, then set a timer.  The scents of lavender and chamomile drifted through the apartment and Neil breathed in deeply.  The ground settled beneath his feet, and he wasn’t sure how much of that was from the tea and how much from Andrew’s solid presence.

When the tea was done steeping Neil carried his over to the couch.  Andrew followed.  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“I…”  Neil took a sip of the too-hot tea and tried to think of a way to tell the truth and not violate his training.  “My parents are dead,” he finally settled on.  

“And that is why you had a panic attack.”  His tone was mild but there was an undercurrent of skepticism.

“Isn’t that leading the witness?”

“Who’s the judge here?  Your cat?”

King had fled at Andrew’s knock but had reappeared on the top of her tower and was looking down at them both.  In the dim room she was mostly eyes. “Aren’t cats always judging us?”

“I call bias in this case.”  Andrew took a cautious sip of his tea and made a face.  “Why does this taste like an attic?”

“I was unaware an attic had a taste.”  Neil set his mug down and went into the kitchen.   He found the vanilla-infused sugar cubes that he had grabbed at Whole Foods once by mistake and had been trying to figure out how to get rid of ever since.  He dropped one in, then at Andrew’s gesture, a second.

“When did your parents die?” Andrew asked.  Neil noticed he didn’t ask how.

“My mother died six years ago, and my father the year after.”

“That’s some bad luck.”

Neil couldn’t stop himself in time.  “Not really.”

That damn eyebrow went up but Andrew didn’t comment; just drank his tea, evidently more tolerable and less attic-y with the sugar.  “My mother is dead too,” he finally said, and there was no grief in his voice.  Just an odd note of satisfaction.

“And your father?”

“I’ve never met him.”

“Some people have all the luck,” Neil muttered, then flinched.  He didn’t know why his edit button disappeared every time he was around Andrew, but he needed to watch himself.  Especially since Andrew was a lawyer, or almost.

Andrew stood, giving no indication that he had heard him.  “Now that I have confirmed you’re not dead, I’m going to go get some sleep.”

“You can stay here, if you want,” Neil offered, then flushed when he realized how that sounded.  “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

“I don’t sleep well in new places, and I already didn’t really sleep last night,” Andrew said, tugging on his jacket.  

“Thank you,” Neil said.  Andrew didn’t acknowledge him.  When he reached for the door, Neil asked, “How did your mother die?”

Andrew turned to look at him.  “Drug overdose.  My brother tells everyone it was a car accident.”

With that, he was gone.  Neil went through the motions of getting ready for bed.  He took out his bottle of Ambien even though he already felt like he had run a marathon, but after a moment put it back unopened.  He set the alarm on his phone, then opened up Andrew’s text window.  My father murdered my mother he typed into the box.  He shut off the phone without hitting send and lay back, staring at the flicker of streetlights playing across the ceiling until finally sleep swept him under.

[ezatluba]

This rabbit walks on its ‘hands.' Scientists think they've found the genetic reason why

Given related studies in horses and mice, the results could have applications to human locomotion

25 MAR 2021

ELIZABETH PENNISI

In 1935, French veterinarians observed a rabbit with a peculiar gait. Sometimes, when walking or running, the sauteur d'Alfort rabbit would lift its back legs over its head, scrambling along the ground on its forelimbs like a circus performer (see video, above).

Now, scientists have pinned down the genetic mutation that likely causes this breed to have this strange form of locomotion. The gene involved holds clues to how the spinal cord enables walking, hopping, and even hand-standing—a finding that dovetails with other work over the past decade on mice and horses. Together, the studies provide an emerging picture that may help explain how all vertebrates, including humans, move around.

The work could help scientists treat human motor deficits like Charcot-Marie-Tooth Disease, a nervous system disease characterized by muscle weakness, says Stephanie Koch, a neuroscientist at University College London who was not involved with any of the studies but has seen similar odd gaits in mice. The study's results are "both surprising and exciting."

Gait is complex. Left, right, front, and back limbs must move at the right times. Muscles need to contract just the right amount to bend, straighten, lift, and twist the legs appropriately. And the body has to be able to switch from, say, walking to running, or going forward to sideways, in an instant should the senses detect danger or obstacles.

A set of nerve cells in the spinal cord called the central pattern generator—not the brain—makes most of these decisions. But just how has been unclear, says Sónia Paixão, a neuroscientist at the Max Planck Institute of Neurobiology.

Researchers know nerve cells called interneurons, which relay sensory information from the rest of the body to the motor neurons that control muscles, play key roles. Several teams have been working to define classes of interneurons, often categorized by what genes are active in them. Then will come the hard work of figuring out what those neurons do. "The exact nature and function of relevant interneurons have been hard to pin down," says Abdel El Manira, a neuroscientist at the Karolinska Institute (KI).

That's where the sauteur, or jumper rabbit comes in. Geneticists Leif Andersson from Uppsala University (UU) and Miguel Carneiro from the University of Porto decided to try to track down the DNA behind the animal's strange gait after sequencing a rabbit genome in 2014. They mated jumper rabbits with another breed to create first- and second-generation animals with either the normal or hand-standing walk. Then the researchers compared DNA from affected and unaffected rabbits and pinned down one mutation in a gene called RORB. Working with UU developmental biologist Klas Kullander, they tracked down where and when this gene was active.

In these rabbits, the mutation causes aberrant versions—or sometimes none at all—of the RORB protein to be produced in a specific group of interneurons, the team reports today in PLOS Genetics. This protein is a transcription factor, meaning it controls the activity of many other genes. Developmental studies showed that the result of two defective RORB genes is those interneurons are completely missing, and in rabbits with one copy there are 25% fewer of them. These interneurons are inhibitory—they stop nerve cells from firing—and when they are missing, the rabbits flex certain muscles too much, lifting their hind legs more than they should.

"I was impressed that the authors were able to identify a single gene mutation," says Jeremy Dasen, a neuroscientist at New York University. Because locomotion is such a complicated behavior, he expected multiple genes and multiple classes of interneurons would be involved. But this paper drives home that, like modular homes with independent sections put together to make a dwelling, locomotion is achieved through the combined efforts of individual classes of interneurons, he adds.

RORB also seems to control hind-limb coordination in mice: Rodents missing a functional RORB gene waddle like ducks. As a result, says KI neuroscientist Sten Grillner, "the importance of RORB applies most likely to all limbed animals" including humans. People with Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease also have atypical RORB proteins.

RORB is the second gene that Andersson's team has pinpointed as important to gait. In 2012, he and colleagues linked a mutation in a protein called DMRT3, which helps researchers identify a subset of interneurons, to an unusual walking gait called toelt. In Icelandic horses that exhibit toelt, the hind limbs support more weight than the front limbs, making the gait more fluid. Andersson's team confirmed the protein's role by making the same mutation in mice. Breeders have selected for this horse mutation because the altered gait gives a very smooth ride. Some of the horses carrying this mutation can also trot and pace at high speed, which makes them excellent for harness racing. And a connection exists between this group of interneurons and the RORB defect, the researchers now report: Rabbits with the mutation make lots more of the DMRT3 interneurons. The researchers do not yet know why.

Understanding how all the nervous system components interact is a challenge, Paixao says. Advances like the rabbit paper illustrate the progress made possible by combining developmental, genetic, and behavioral studies. "We are now in a pivotal time to achieve these goals," she adds. "It is an exciting time to see how all the pieces of motor control are coming together."

[brerediddy]

more than survive - chapter 11

Michael wasn’t sure what had drawn him to the reservoir in the first place. He just knew that he couldn’t sleep, he was pissed off, and he needed to get out of the house. Everytime he looked around that stupid basement, he was reminded of Jeremy. Lava lamp? He and Jeremy had picked it out together in the fifth grade. Piggy bank shaped like a dragon? A sixteenth birthday gift from his best friend. He didn’t need more reminders of the boy who hated that Michael had the absolute audacity to care . It was bullshit.

So he left the house. He walked around for a while, not really sure of his exact location. He knew that it probably wasn’t safe to wander aimlessly in the middle of the night, but he had a cell phone. He probably wouldn’t die. It was fine. When he hit the end of the road he was currently walking down, vast trees and a sharp breeze alerted him of where he was. He and Jeremy used to come to this place together all the time. Regardless of his current affinity for Avoiding Jeremy-Themed-Memories, he figured that the reservoir wouldn’t be a bad place to sit and reflect for a little bit. Then he would head home. He would go to sleep and (hopefully) hear from the other boy in the morning.

As he walked into the open field, past the entrance of trees, he saw the lake that he’d jumped into so many times as a kid. The lake where he almost drowned, once, and Jeremy pulled him up from the water in all of his scrawny-ten-year-old-glory. The lake where he’d had his first kiss with Jenna Roland in the seventh grade. The lake where he came out to his parents.

Anyway, the lake held a lot of memories. It was the same way for every kid in town: a fresh breath of nature in a pretty nature-less world.

As Michael was trying to spot a good place to sit down, he was frightened by a quick flash of red and blue from above. He jumped as the object hit the water, splashing loudly. When he looked up to the sky, he saw nothing. Whatever had dropped it was in a hurry to leave. Michael’s body was frozen. What should he do? He couldn’t exactly investigate without jumping into the water himself. He figured that he should probably just let it be. It wasn’t his business. That was how white people died in horror movies, and he was not about to get involved in anything like that.

Then, though, he kept replaying the scene in his head. The red and blue had seemed like an oddly familiar pattern...and the object had seemed oddly human-like. Michael chewed on his lower lip, debating whether or not he was crazy.

No. He wasn’t. He knew Spider-Man. That was definitely Spider-Man. What the fuck was up with that?

He needed to see. Minutes had passed since the drop, and then simply nothing. Peace and quiet.

Although, did he really want to dive into the water on a suspicion? He considered it for a long and pensive moment. Well, it was a warm night anyway. He wasn’t doing anything else. It would make a cool story to tell Jeremy once they mended things.

Michael toed off his shoes and dropped his hoodie before thinking about it any longer. He left his glasses and headphones in a heap on top of his jacket, setting his phone down as well. Hesitantly, he walked into the water. It wasn’t freezing, but it certainly didn’t feel great. He wanted to get in and out quickly before it got too cold.

Michael moved deeper and deeper into the lake, feeling the water rise and rise and rise. He winced when it hit his chest, and he decided that he should probably start looking for Spider-Man. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he pushed his head under the water. As he opened his eyes, he was surprised that he couldn’t see anything until he realized that, firstly, it was lakewater and secondly, he didn’t have his glasses. With the fog in the water, he had no idea how he was supposed to find anything.

Then, the smallest light caught a glimpse of silver. However murky the image was, it was still something. That was all he needed. Michael moved towards the silver, reaching out. When his fingers graced something definitively made from fabric, he knew that he wasn’t crazy. Without a second thought, he felt around for a hand or anything he could grab onto. Surprisingly, an arm was looped behind the figure which gave the boy something to grip. He tugged the weight with him out of the dark water, breathing deeply when he broke the surface. As he got the other person’s head above the lake, he was a bit awestruck to see that it was actually Spider-Man. Like, he had his suspicions. But this was on another level.

He was even more awestruck when he felt no movement from the hero. He was a dead-weight in Michael’s arms, not even moving enough to allow for the rise and fall of his chest.

Shit. This was bad. Spider-Man was dead. If that was even possible...heroes like Spider-Man couldn’t die. That didn’t seem right.

Okay, he was jumping ahead of himself. His first priority was getting the man back to the lakeshore. He repositioned Spider-Man so that he could carry him bridal-style, pushing against the heavy water. Michael tried to keep himself from freaking out by admiring how cool the suit was up close. Yeah, that would work.

When they made it to land, the taller boy quickly laid the hero flat against the gravelly grass. Surely he would start breathing now and everything would be fine. Michael waited. And waited. And waited.

No breath came. God, he didn’t know what to do! What did someone even do in a situation like this?

CPR. People did CPR in situations like this. That was it. He could do that. Stay calm, Michael. He placed a hand against Spider-Man’s jawline. He didn’t want to expose the hero’s identity, but the mask was suffocatingly tight, clinging to the man’s face. He had to do what he had to do. He could apologize later and swear to never tell. He couldn’t just leave Spider-Man to die.

Okay, here went nothing. He pulled up the mask, the darkness of the night and the brightness of the moon casting a weird contrast on the person’s face. He pulled the mask off completely and let his eyes adjust to the blur of the features in front of him. He saw pale whites and slight blues and familiar angles and...Jeremy? Why did Spider-Man look like Jeremy?

Michael reached for his glasses instantly, pressing them against his face with more fervor than he’d moved in years. As he was able to get a good look at the features, he knew that he must have been hallucinating. This man, no, boy looked exactly like his best friend.

What the fuck?

Just as Michael had furrowed his brow and quickened his breath in shock, the figure coughed violently. He turned onto his side weakly, grimacing and gagging as the water exited his body. The handcuffs kept his hands securely behind his back, but he balanced on his shoulder with his eyes closed, breathing the most shallow breaths.

Now that Michael’s brain had caught up with his eyes, he came to terms with the fact that this person was Jeremy. One-Hundred-Percent, without a doubt. Slowly, he registered that this meant that Jeremy was Spider-Man, which, what? Now that he thought about it, the possibility didn’t seem unfathomable. And it would certainly explain the other boy’s recent behavior. But he had just never considered Jeremy as...Spider-Man, for god’s sake.

Finally, the slowest piece of his brain caught up with the rest. Jeremy was in the Spider-Man suit. Jeremy had previously been underwater and non-responsive. Jeremy was incredibly pale and blue and—was he shaking? Jeremy was obviously in a life-or-death situation. Jeremy’s hands were locked behind his back.

Somebody had purposefully tried to kill Jeremy. Jeremy was on the ground, seriously close to passing out or getting hypothermia or whatever happened when someone almost drowned.

Michael scrambled to lean overtop of his best friend, his lungs feeling like they were on the verge of collapsing. Should he take Jeremy to the hospital? Should he call the cops? Was his best friend going to die?

“Jer-emy,” Michael spoke harshly, his shaky breathing separating the word. “Jeremy, it’s going to be okay. Oh, god, please be okay. Jeremy, c’mon. Open your eyes.”

[rejectedusername-trashfics]

Shot by the Gods- Feel the Thunder

Summary: A series of One Shots, Ficlets, or Drabbles from my Gods of LS AU.  Geoff decides to go on sabbatical, and crew leadership shuffles to a unheard-of member of B-Team.

Chapter: 3/?

Word Count: 2,196

Previous / AO3

Note: Takes place after Causing Chaos (coming in August) and short follow-up fic.

Geoff was sitting in his room drinking. He had had a lot to deal with. They had worked out crew territory with Fakehaus to free Gavin and Ryan. And Gavin and Ryan had finally gotten together, which was great for everyone. But still, it was all a lot to deal with.

Geoff took a swig of his drink when Jack came into the room. “Geoff, what are you doing in here?”

“You ever notice that all the new smaller crews have been putting Fake in their name too?” he asked.

“Geoff-”

“Fakehaus, Fakeattack, Fakechop, Kinda Fake…”

“Geoff, maybe you need a vacation. Like a sabbatical or something,” she suggested. Geoff shook his head in response. “Maybe you could try to hook up with that Amazonian hitwoman you like.”

Geoff continued to shake his head. “As much as I want to get with Griffon, there’s no time with all I have to take care of right now.” He got up. “I should go check on the crew,” he said as he left the room. Jack rolled her eyes and followed him out.

The two of them walked into the living room to see Gavin cuddling Ryan on the couch. “So, you have a daughter then?” Gavin asked.

“Technically, that is correct,” Ryan answered.

“So, does that make Meg her stepmom, and me her stepdad?”

Ryan shook his head. “No…”

“Why not?”

“I may be her biological father, but I’ll never be her dad.”

Geoff’s eyes widened. Her turned back to Jack and said, “On second thought, maybe I do need that sabbatical.”

Jack nodded. “I know I thought this was a good idea, but now I wonder what’s going to happen to the crew. Are you going to disband it?”

“No, no. I make someone else be the leader.”

“Well, who do you have in mind? I personally don’t think I would make a good one. I may be some of the brains of the operation, but I really don’t think it would be wise considering the fact that I’m not the best leader,” Jack rambled.

Geoff thought about it for a minute. “I think I have an idea.”

Geoff wanted to immediately tell his crew about the fact that he was going on sabbatical, but Jack told him he should appoint his new crew leader first. He sighed and agreed. He walked over to the B-Team room. He saw the guys on B-Team that he never bothered to learn the names of sitting at computers, the Jones baby sleeping in his crib in the corner, and Lindsay sitting at her desk.

“Lindsay,” Geoff called out to get her attention.

Lindsay looked up. “Yes?”

Geoff sighed. “Everything that’s happened lately has been a lot for me.”

“That’s true, a lot has happened.”

“So, I decided, I’m gonna go on a sabbatical for a while.”

“Alright, you could use the rest. But who’s gonna lead the crew? Jack, right?”

Geoff shook his head. “Jack said she wasn’t a very good one, so she’s not gonna lead.”

“Ok, did you decide on someone else?”

“Yeah, you.”

Lindsay’s eyes widened in surprise. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Why?”

“You’re the leader of my B-Team, So, I think you could do a very good job of leading the A-Team. Plus, Michael knows you’d have his balls if he didn’t listen to you.”

“Is Michael, like, B.A. from A-Team?” one of the guys in the room asked.

“Larry…” Lindsay warned.

“But, yeah, I think I’m gonna go lie down now,” Geoff said as he started to leave the room.

“I won’t let you down,” she said as she saluted him. He saluted her back and left the room.

“So, what’s on the new crew agenda first?” another man, Trevor, asked.

Lindsay thought for a second. “Well, a heist would be a good way to get the party started.”

Suddenly, the baby woke up. He sat up and started to whimper loudly. “Uh oh. I think Lucas is upset,” the last guy in the room, Matt, acknowledged.

“Lukey, no.” Lindsay scrambled over to the crib. She lifted him up to smell him. “Well, he’s not stinky. He must be hungry. You’re gonna eat us out of a penthouse.”

“So, are you gonna get him food?” Trevor asked.

“I’m gonna go get it from Michael and I’s room.” She started walked to the door with Lucas in her arms. Then she paused for a second. “And I want you to come with me, Trevor.”

Trevor nodded as followed her out of the room. “Michael might kill me for stepping foot in his room,” he started. “What’s going on? Why’d you need me to come with you?” he asked.

“Look, I’m not sure I can be a new mom and lead a crew at the same time,” she replied.

“Michael seems to be able to balance being crew demo-man and being a new dad,” he commented in response.

Lindsay rolled her eyes and smiled. “Not the same as being a mom. But I wanted you to come with me because I think you should lead the crew instead,” she finally answered.

“What?” he asked in shock. “They don’t even know who I am. What if something happens and that life secret I have get revealed? They’d think I’m a freak and they’d shun me forever. They’d never listen to anything I’d say. And-”

“Trevor, it will be fine. They’ll accept you, whatever your secret is. I can help you plan your first heist with the crew. And I can help you help you call together your first crew meeting. Everything will be ok.”

“Are you sure?” he asked nervously.

“Yeah. We can call this meeting after I feed Luke, here.”

They made it back to Lindsay and Michael’s room and fed Lucas. When they were done, they put him down in the crew in the bedroom and walked out into the living room. Jack had joined Ryan and Gavin on the couch. Jeremy had taken a reclining chair on one side of the room, and Michael was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch.

Lindsay coughed loudly and Jack looked up. “Ah, I see Geoff appointed you, Lindsay.”

“That he did. But after considering parent related circumstances, I realized that I can’t be the new leader of the crew,” Lindsay replied.

“Hey, I said I’d take parental responsibility like I need to. You just need to text me when he’s hungry, and I’ll come feed him,” Michael argued in response.

Lindsay rolled her eyes. “When he’s hungry, he needs to be fed right then. But anyway, I chose someone else to be your crew leader.” The rest of the crew waited eagerly in anticipation, expecting her to say one of their names.

“Hello,”’ Trevor started. Then he coughed to get everyone’s attention on him. “My name is Trevor Collins, and Lindsay wants me to be the new leader of the crew.”

The crew stared at him for a second, then they burst out laughing. “You can’t be serious,” Ryan snickered.

“This is too stupid to be true,” Jeremy howled in laughter.

“Lindsay?” Trevor said quietly.

“Nope. Treyco’s your new leader. And you all have to live with it.”

“Lindsay said she’d help me plan out my first heist with you guys,” Trevor announced, trying to gain the crew’s trust.

“Nah,” Gavin responded.

“I’m sorry?”

“We were gonna rob some people at Eclipse Towers,” Michael answered.

“Uh…” Trevor started, confused.

“No, this could work. Doing a heist on their terms would get them to like you better,” Lindsay replied to reassure him.

“Alright then. Michael and Ryan will be mainly in charge of holding the lobby violence. Gavin’s got security. Jack will find a getaway vehicle. And Trevor, since you’re gonna be the new ’crew leader’, you’ll be with me taking care of robbing people on the outside,” Jeremy explained the plan.

“Alright. Are we gonna do this now, or?” Trevor asked.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Ryan joked.

“Come on then, grab your stuff and let’s go,” Jeremy announced. Everyone went back to their rooms to grab their stuff. Before he ran back to his room, Jeremy put his hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “I hope you’re okay with guns,” he finished as he ran away.

“Eh, I’ve shot a gun once before,” Trevor shrugged as he ran to get his gun.

The crew attack took the building by surprise. Jeremy grabbed a person’s neck. “Hands up, everyone! This is a holdup!” he shouted as he grabbed the man’s wallet with his other hand.

Michael and Ryan intimidated most of the people in the lobby, but one woman ran over to the lobby light switch. “CAN’T SEE IN THE DARK,” she yelled as she turned off the light switch.

Ryan ran over to her and stabbed her in the leg. “Actually, I can see in the dark.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Vagabond, you can, but the rest of us can’t!”

Trevor sighed and snapped his fingers, and the lights flickered back on. “SON OF A BITCH I JUST SHUT IT OFF!!!!” she yelled in agony.

Jeremy finished stealing the money off everyone in the lobby. “Come on Trevor, let’s go.”

“But what about Mic-Mogar and Vagabond?” Trevor asked, slightly confused.

Jeremy sighed. “Mogar’s just gonna help Vagabond work on his, uh, corpse fetish.”

Trevor nodded and followed Jeremy out. They ran to find Jack, still searching for a getaway vehicle. “We should have planned this more, I forgot to pick out a good one.”

“I’m sorry! This was my first time, I should have been more patient!” Trevor said quickly.

“We know, and we’re not mad.” Jeremy consoled. Suddenly the police showed up and started to surround the three of them before some started to enter the building. “Gavin…” Jeremy stated angrily into his com.

“I forgot to make the tower a cell dead zone,” Gavin replied, in defense.

“FREEZE!” one of the cops yelled.

“Shit…” Jack started as she and Jeremy raised their guns.

Trevor put his hand up and walked in front. “Please, we don’t want any more trouble.”

“Well, you should have thought of that before you started robbing the place!” The cop argued back and she pulled out her taser and shot it at Trevor. It hooked onto him and she turned it on.

Trevor’s eyes glistened, but he just stood there as if nothing was happening. “Aww. Tasers put holes in shirts and I liked this shirt,” he said sadly.

“How are you still standing?” the cop asked confused.

Trevor rolled his eyes and sent the electric wave right back through the taser. The wave electrocuted the police officer and she dropped. Then he grabbed the toy hammer keychain he had in his pocket, and used it to send another giant wave, electrocuting the rest of the cops.

“What the fuck?” Jack asked.

“Jeremy, you get back in there and help Ryan with his corpse fetish. Jack, we can use one of the abandoned cop cars as a getaway vehicle,” Trevor instructed.

Jeremy nodded and went back into the tower. Jack, still in shock, slapped herself. “Won’t it be weird to drive a cop car back to penthouse?” she asked, still trying to calm herself.

Trevor shrugged. “We could call it a trophy,” he suggested.

Jack sighed and got the car ready to go. Jeremy, Michael, and Ryan came running out with their loot and Trevor motioned for them to join Jack and him in the car. The shrugged and hopped in. Michael asked Ryan is he turned the lights back on after he had stabbed the girl and he admitted that he didn’t and he has no idea how the lights got back on.

Finally, Jeremy opened his mouth. “How the hell did you do that, Trevor?” he asked.

“Do what?” Trevor questioned.

“That cop tazed you, but you stood there like nothing had happened. Then you sent the taser shock right back. How?!”

“Yeah, I was wondering the same thing,” Jack added.

“Wait, Treyco got tazed?” Michael asked.

“Maybe he’s tougher than we thought,” Gavin said over the com.

Trevor sighed. “If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“If we can handle Ryan’s truth-” Jeremy started.

“Hey!” Ryan interrupted.

“Then we can handle anything,” he finished.

“Fine.” Trevor sighed again. “I’m actually the demigod son of the god of thunder and lightning,” he admitted. The crew immediately started laughing. “See, the truth is too stupid to believe.”

Michael calmed down. “No, no, we believe you. Cause we’re all literally demigods. I’m the son of the god of fire.”

“Demigoddess of wisdom,” Jack explained next

“God of speed’s my dad,” Jeremy admitted.

“I’m not actually a demigod because I’m Vaga, the god of death,” Ryan explained.

“What are you all on about?” Gavin asked.

“Trevor’s the demigod of thunder, so we’re telling him what demigods we are,” Jack replied.

“Oh. Well I’m not a demigod. But I am this generation’s reincarnation of Midas.”

“So, you all fit in with mythology too,” Trevor said, relieved.

Jack smiled. “And we learned that you’ll fit in with the big guys,” she reassured him as she continued to drive back to the penthouse.