#a du mortain x detective

[dumortains]

"Do not leave my side," Adam whispers, though there's no harsh order or strict command to the words. More of a plea. It's made even more obvious as he turns to look over his shoulder at me, his fingers brushing against mine. He mumbles, "Please."

thank you so much @gncrezan for this beautiful commission of one of my favorite book 3 moments!! loved the way these two were giving battle couple this book

[not-sewell]

Mishka ur so sick for this how dare

[averagetastesofonelittlebird]

U know, what happens to A-mancers in TWC3 is called full-throttle edging and it should be illegal.

Goddamn, my heart WILL give out, why are u doing this to me Sera?

[thewayhavenchronicle]

the b-word

Rating: G Pairing: Ruth Bihari x Ava du Mortain Words: 1300 Happy Birthday to the love of my life, Ava du Mortain!

Ava has not celebrated a birthday in… it must be decades, at this point. It’s just not something she’s interested in keeping track of anymore, and it hasn’t been for some time. 

The only vague awareness she needs is the knowledge that she is coming up on her first millennium and that is terrifying in a way that makes her feel like she’s standing at the edge of a skyscraper, looking down at the ground with the innate knowledge that she won’t survive the fall. Thinking about the centuries under her belt makes her feel two inches to the left of her body — the body she’s inherited for nine centuries — and, if she allows herself to linger on the feeling, she feels as if somehow everyone around her will be able to take one look at her and know that she is not human.

Farah had tried to throw her a birthday party the first year after she joined the unit. Tried being the key word, as Nate had been quick to shut it down, ever the faithful friend (as he ought to be, after three centuries together).

All of these conflicting emotions are why she often spends her birthday away from everyone, throwing herself into work or something that will occupy her mind to avoid the darkness lurking just beneath the surface. 

Since they’ve been in Wayhaven permanently, and since she finally got to take her baby out of storage, she decides to spend this day working on her car. Maybe even go for a drive.

That is all to say, when Ruth finds her out in the garage with a mischievous grin on her face, Ava is immediately suspicious.

“Hi.”

Ava blinks up at her, lying on her back from where she’d been working on something under the car. Ruth’s grin doesn’t waver as she rocks back and forth on her heels, hands behind her back as she obviously has something hiding back there. Frowning, Ava sits up on her elbows, cocking an eyebrow at the Detective.

“...hello.”

Ruth laughs at the tone Ava has, looking up at the car as she smiles brightly. “Are you taking her out, today?”

“I… I might,” Ava says, still unsure about what it is, exactly, that Ruth wants. She sits up more, bracing her forearms on her knees. “It’s nice out today, at least, and we all have the day off, so it seems like a good time.”

Ruth nods. “It’s beautiful out, today. The park might be a little busy, but I know a place where the road leads up to a cliff overlooking the sea if you want.”

“That sounds… nice.”

Ruth laughs at the hesitation Ava has when she speaks, grinning down at her in such a way that Ava’s breath catches in her throat. For a moment, she swears that the sunlight streaming in from the open garage door gets a little brighter to match the joy and contentment sparkling in Ruth’s eyes.

And then Ruth shakes her head a little and offers Ava what she had behind her back.

It’s an oblong, velvet jewelry box with a little blue ribbon on it.

Ava winces before she can stop herself, and Ruth laughs again, bright and joyful enough that Ava’s lips twitch reluctantly with the urge to join in the laughter. Ava takes the box as Ruth lowers herself to sit on the ground across from her. 

“I know you don’t like celebrating the b-word,” Ruth starts, shrugging lightly. “Nate warned me about that. But, I saw this online the other day and it was too fitting to pass up. You’re welcome to be mad at me about it, but…” she trails off with another shrug.

Ava snorts softly, returning her gaze to the box. Delicately, she sighs and tugs at one end of the ribbon, the satin sliding away and falling to the pavement below. Bracing herself for — whatever might be inside this thing, she carefully opens the box…

…and her shoulders slump a little as she takes in the delicate silver pendant on a chain lying in the velvet.

At first glance, the pendant seems to be in the shape of a shield. However, upon closer inspection, there is a sword in the middle, surrounded by two dragons coiled on either side, all forming the shape of a shield. In the center of the pendant lies a stone almost the exact shade of Ava’s eyes.

“Oh…”

It’s barely a breath as she exhales softly, reaching out to touch the pendant delicately with her fingers. 

Ruth’s foot shakes in her periphery as she waits for Ava’s response, nerves clearly getting to her. Ava looks back up at her to find a hopeful look on her face, teeth gnawing at her lower lip. When she meets her eyes, Ruth smiles a little.

“...well?”

Ava considers her for a moment, eyes trailing over her pretty face — and the she snorts again, smiling softly down at the necklace.

“It’s lovely,” Ava says, pulling the chain from the velvet. As the chain pulls free, she realizes that it isn’t long enough to be pulled over the head.

“Do you want to wear it?” 

“I do.”

The answer falls from her lips faster than she’d expected, but any embarrassment Ava might have felt fades quickly when she looks up at Ruth and catches the excitement in her eyes. Ruth shifts onto her knees, holding her hands out and wiggling her fingers as she says, “I’ll help.”

Ava isn’t entirely sure about this, but she doesn’t want to not wear it, so she willingly hands it over, careful not to brush Ruth’s skin as the pendant drops into her waiting palm. Turning around, Ava bends her neck, leaning forward a little so that Ruth can access the nape of her neck easily. Ruth brushes at some of the hair that had fallen loose from Ava’s bun as she worked on her car — ignores the way a full-body shiver washes over Ava’s skin, making her visibly shake for a moment — and then she drapes the necklace around Ava’s neck, fixing the clasp quickly and easily.

The pendant falls perfectly against her sternum, hitting near the top of her cleavage. Not in the way and able to be visible if Ava were to decide to wear a tanktop or something lower cut than the crew-cut tees she favors.

Touching it gently, she turns to look at Ruth again. 

Something in her stomach flutters at how close Ruth is.

“Thank you,” she says faintly, caught on the way the sun catches on one of the hubcaps reflects the sunlight into Ruth’s eyes, lighting them up like a bottle of cognac in the sun. 

Ruth smiles. “I’m glad you like it.”

I love it. I love you.

Ava coughs, looking away as her ears begin to burn and rubbing at the back of her neck. Clearing her throat, she looks back at her car and asks, “Do you want… do you want to go for a drive with me?”

A stupid question, Ava realizes, because Ruth immediately lights up, sitting upright so quickly that her curly hair bounces softly with the motion. “I’d love to!”

Ava smiles even as longing closes a cold fist around her heart, squeezing as she takes in just how beautiful Ruth is. 

She still doesn’t like celebrating her birthday. She doesn’t care to actually count how old she is or force herself to choke down a piece of cake.

This isn’t so bad, though. When she pulls out onto the main road, with late spring air combing sticky fingers through their hair, feeling the quiet hum of her car beneath her hands as she drives them up the coast, her heart in the seat beside her…

Well, she thinks maybe this birthday, at least, is a good one.

[wayhavenots]

Pet Names (Ava x Rider)

No spoilers for TWC Book 3 (but maybe obviously influenced by it). Just very short hastily-written Ava x Rider in the beginning stages of an official relationship.

~

"Be back soon, babe."

The word slips out of Rider's mouth as innocent as a, well.

He's halfway to the door when it hits him, and he turns around to find Ava's sharp green eyes locked on him. Not totally devoid of amusement, as much as she tries to hide the smile fighting its way onto her lips.

"Do I look like an infant to you, Rider?" she asks.

He grins, fighting the urge to irk her with his response. "It's supposed to be, you know, affectionate."

She blinks at him. "To refer to one's partner as a helpless child?"

He could irk her with a response to that, too, considering how their relationship began. But he's more happily distracted by her casual use of the word partner. Sometimes he isn't sure if she wants this, him, or if he just wore her down.

"Okay," he relents, "I won't call you 'babe.' So..." He strides closer, catching her hands gently in his. "What do you want me to call you? To show that you're special to me?"

The smile wins out, dimpling her cheeks, and Rider's racing heart at the sight almost drowns out her firm answer. "My name."

"But everyone calls you Ava."

"But they should call me Commanding Agent du Mortain," she points out, the words a little sharp.

"Commanding Babe-gent du Mortain?"

She shakes her head and gives a soft chuckle. "Call me as you wish." Her brow creases with sudden uncertainty. "Is there...something you would like for me to call you?"

Oh. He grins, sheepish at the realization. "I like it when you use my name, too, Ava."

She smiles again, soft and warm and easy. "Then I shall continue to do so, Rider."

[brightburner]

Detective: *catches A’s eye, smiles*

A: *snaps a pencil clean in half*

[tumortain]

[slushrottweiler]

Never has a kiss hurt me so good

I cannot do the absolute Agony of this scene from Book 3 justice. The desperation of their kiss. The way they both knew it was a bad idea and that they just…. Needed it regardless. The absolute, earth-shattering terror A feels because, despite everything they’ve done, this human has gotten in past their endless walls and it’s ripping their world apart - because they’ve lost everything before and honestly don’t know how they’re going to survive losing them.

Jesus Fuck I have so many feelings about this. So many and I sobbed and cried and just…. omg you fucked me up Bk 3! Characters belong to @seraphinitegames

[crownleys]

Surprise @thee-morrigan, I'm your Secret Santa for the @wayhavensecretsanta! I couldn't resist doing something with both Petra and Holland, they're both so lovely! For Petra, a holiday drive with Ava that gets briefly paused so they can get out and enjoy the first snow of the season in the Square!

And for Holland, a sweet holiday selfie in front of the tree with Nate!

Happy holidays!

[averagetastesofonelittlebird]

"I need to see her eyes."

[thewayhavenchronicle]

toujours

@ava-du-mortain and I were talking about scenes in Book 3 and screaming incoherently about Ava and how we wanted to tell her that we wanted her to be with us all the time and this happened. aka i blacked out after finishing the last fic and wrote 1.7k of making out in the back seat of ava's car lmao Rating: T Pairing: Ruth Bihari x Ava du Mortain Words: 1742 Also on AO3!

Ava kisses her like cool mountain springwater — gentle and smooth, the motion so easy and effortless that the whisper of their lips is only barely audible in the quiet of the rainy spring afternoon. 

They’d had a day off today, the first in a while, and most everyone else had split off to do their own things. She isn’t entirely sure what anyone else had decided to do, because Ava had found her quite early in the morning to request that they spend the day together. Ruth had almost thought she was still asleep, standing in her fluffy housecoat in the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from her eyes as Ava bounced idly on the balls of her feet, a strange sort of nervous energy buzzing about her. She’d smiled a little when Ruth just frowned at her, confused and not awake enough to really comprehend what was happening — smiled and explained softly that she wanted to take her car on another drive.

Of course, the balmy, warm morning had turned grey by the time they made it to the oceanside picnic ground that Saoirse had recommended once ages ago now. They’d ended up putting the top up just in time for it to start raining, though Ava didn’t seem particularly perturbed by it.

What she had been a little perturbed by was Ruth going through a box of cassettes she’d found in the back seat, grinning and asking about Ava’s taste in music. They’d retreated to the backseat when it had started raining, scooting the front seats forward a little to give them plenty of room to sit comfortably for a long while.

Eventually, Ruth had picked one cassette out of the box that she liked, and Ava had leaned over the middle of the car to pop it into the cassette player (Ruth does her best to keep her eyes to herself). Quiet music had filled the car, and the crisp sound of the audio does something strange to Ruth as she settles further into the backseat. The car is something out of the 50s, and the music is from the 80s, and the rain is coming down so hard that it turns the world beyond into a blur of greys, and for a moment — for just a moment, Ruth feels like a woman out of time, feels like her heart is beating out of sync with the world around her. 

The sensation steals her breath, and she knows that Ava catches the hitch in her breathing from the gentle brush of fingers on her shoulder. It’s a hesitant touch, uncertain as to its welcome, but then Ruth turns to look at her and she finds those icy green eyes — light green the color of a fresh spring fern, almost jade in the grey light of the rainy afternoon — already on her, warm and concerned. 

“Is it strange?” Ruth hears herself ask, voice barely a whisper, afraid to break the calm that had settled over them.

Ava’s lips twitch, and she tilts her head curiously. “Is what strange?”

Ruth swallows, tongue darting out to wet her suddenly dry lips — and she can’t help but notice when Ava’s eyes hungrily follow the movement. “Is it… do you feel like you’re in the wrong time all the time? Do you ever look at the world around you and feel wrong because of how far it is from the world you grew up in?”

Ava’s eyes widen a little, lips falling parted in genuine surprise at the question. For a moment, all she does is stare at Ruth, who stares right back — and then she smiles a little, the hand that’s been brushing against Ruth’s shoulder coming up to brush a few stray curls back behind her ear.

“No,” she says at length, shaking her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Because it was so long ago?”

Ava shrugs lightly, looking away at the radio still playing its quiet little 80s lovesongs. “Perhaps. I think there have been moments where I have been… reminded of things, but being in another part of the world, far from everything I knew, with everything so vastly different, it… I feel like the person I was and the person I am now are two separate people, in a way.”

Ruth is still watching Ava’s face, tracing the elegant curve of her nose as Ava speaks. When she trails off, Ruth nods a little, shifting to be more comfortable on the seat and not bothering to move away when her knee ends up pressed against Ava’s thigh.

Ava glances at the touch, but makes no move to put space between them.

“I suppose I’m glad,” Ruth says when she remembers that it’s her turn to talk. “I would rather you be comfortable than not.”

“Are you uncomfortable, Ruth?”

“No.” The protest falls from her lips a little too quickly, making Ava smile a little, especially when Ruth gasps and shakes her head, panicking at the thought of Ava thinking she’s uncomfortable being alone with her. “I’m not — I guess I was just feeling a little… strange. Being in this car like this with the music playing makes me feel like time… doesn’t exist, almost. Or that we’ve gone back in time.”

Ava hums softly, hand repeating the motion of tucking her hair behind her ear even though she’s sure there’s nothing to brush away. “Are you alright? That sounds a little… unsettling.”

Ruth laughs, snuggling closer to Ava in the backseat, the bubble of privacy and solitude provided by the rain making her brave. Grinning as she leans against the backseat, head nearly resting on Ava’s arm, she nods a little. “I’m alright, Ava. How could I not be? I’m with you.”

Ava’s face flushes wonderfully in the dim light, cheeks a lovely shade of rose, smiling enough now that the dimples on her cheeks are starting to make an appearance. She laughs lightly and looks away, flustered, as she asks, “Does that mean you want me around more often to tell you what to do and where to go?”

She can hear Ava trying to deflect, offering her a way out of this rather intense line of conversation, but Ruth has no interest in taking it. 

“I always want you around me, Ava,” Ruth says plainly, uninterested in dancing around this a moment longer. “Always.”

Ava’s eyes widen, that beautiful shade of green darting right back to her face in less than a second. Ruth wonders for a moment if Ava will push her away again — if this will all crumble and they’ll go back to the same dance they’ve been doing — but she needn’t have worried, apparently, because Ava does something that Ruth wasn’t actually expecting.

She kisses her.

Ava’s hand cups the back of Ruth’s neck as she leans in and sinks her lips into hers, sighing almost in relief at the warm, solid pressure of Ruth immediately kissing her back. It’s a lingering touch, both of them hesitant to break it even though the moment they do, they just come back together again. Ava’s touch is gentle and almost hesitant, though her lips chase after Ruth’s each time the kiss breaks so they can start another one. Her fingers skim over Ruth’s skin as if she thinks she might be made of glass, as if one wrong move could shatter the illusion. The sensation of it combined with the desperation slowly building in the press of her lips, the heat of her breath makes Ruth feel like she’s drowning a little. For a moment, as Ruth’s tongue slips between Ava’s lips and Ava exhales a quiet, shaky little huff of air — for a moment, Ruth feels a little like she is living someone else’s memory. 

Ava’s fingers shake as she shuffles closer, both hands cupping Ruth’s jaw now, and there’s a pliancy in the way her mouth moves that makes Ruth realize distantly that Ava may not have ever done this before. It makes Ruth smile a little, imagining herself as a woman in the 80s, giving the closeted military woman her first taste of intimacy with another woman. Ruth reaches up with one hand to touch at one of the wrists holding her face, thumb stroking across the thin skin over her pulsepoint, and lets her other hand settle gently on one of Ava’s knees. 

Ava gasps into her mouth, tensing up at the touch, but Ruth doesn’t make to move her hand any higher, content to stroke her thumb lazily against her knee and do nothing more. Ava seems to realize that Ruth has no intention of pushing her any further a beat later, hesitantly deepening the kiss on her own, grinning a little when Ruth sighs happily into her mouth.

Her grin is contagious. A beat later, Ruth is smiling, and a matching smile tugs at Ava’s lips until they are giggling breathlessly as they try to keep kissing despite their laughter. Ava pulls back, but doesn’t go far, resting her forehead against Ruth’s as they both laugh softly. Ruth’s eyes open to find Ava already watching her, green eyes soft and full of affection.

“Je suis à toi,” Ava breathes, and Ruth laughs lightly, reaching up to run her fingers across her jawline.

“Et je t’appartiens,” Ruth answers, just as soft as Ava. 

Ava’s grin stretches until the skin around her eyes has crinkled with delight, dimples on full blast, and Ruth is momentarily awestruck by how beautiful she is. Ava seems to be similarly struck, eyes running over her features with a sort of desperate awe that one might look at a shooting star or a rainbow. Ava looks at Ruth as if Ruth will fade the second she looks away, and Ruth doesn’t think she’s ever felt quite so wanted in her whole life.

They stay wrapped up in each other for a long while — until the rain has slowed and come to a stop, and the sun has long since set. 

They only stop touching when they finally part ways for the night, with Ava giving her one final kiss before leaving her to get some sleep. One kiss turns into two, then three, and then Ruth has to duck away, laughing as she half hides behind her bedroom door to finally bid Ava goodnight.

Ruth falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

She’s not sure if she’ll ever stop smiling.

I am yours. 

And I belong to you.

[nathanielhsewell]

the love triangle, the wayhaven chronicles.

[neoendydy]

in a book about vampires such a scene is a must!!

[ellenembee]

Bruises

A stand-alone fic of a “skipped” moment in The Wayhaven Chronicles books.

After being attacked and mildly injured by Trappers after the meeting with Falk, Ophelia tries to go about her day as usual. Luckily, she's got Tina (and Adam) to let her know she's being dumb and to help her through the memories dredged up by the attempted kidnapping.

"Come on. We're going to see the doc." "What? No. I'm fine." Ophelia turned back to her computer but flinched a moment later when Tina poked her cheek. "OW! What the hell?" "That's what I asked. Now get your ass out of that chair and into my patrol car before I drag you there myself." Tina stepped back, adjusted her belt, and pointed to the door like some sort of grim reaper pointing Scrooge to his grave. Ophelia closed her eyes. "You're not going to let this go?" "Are you seriously asking me that with a welt the size of the moon on your face?"

[schmetective]

the plant, the paper, and the powerless;

pairing: Adam du Mortain x the Detective synopsis: (After Book 2,) Adam replaces your plant. Adam-typical longing and suppression ensues.

There’s a small thump that cuts into the silence of the warehouse’s common room. 

Adam’s frown deepens, and the intention the sound is made with is reason enough to draw the vampire leader’s gaze away from the forest outside the window and to the… 

A blond eyebrow shoots up. 

“What’s that?” 

Nate challenges the skepticism with a raised eyebrow of his own. 

“A plant.” 

So it seems. Newly placed on one of the side tables in the room, the plant sits in a white ceramic pot, its large leaves a vibrant green with speckles of a slightly lighter shade of the color. A few leaves threaten to spill out of the edges of the pot, the stems connecting it soft rather than rigid. Adam eyes it as if the innocent thing has accused him of a great misdeed. 

Perhaps it has. 

“For?” 

The icy green of Adam’s eyes meet the warmth of Nate’s, hundreds of years of friendship between the gaze, yet this time there settles a lot of… Nate holds back a chuckle, recognizing the look from his friend rather quickly. Suspicion. 

Nate smothers the amusement that threatens to expose his intentions into a deadpan as if what -- or rather, who -- the plant could be for was rather obvious. The furrowing of Adam’s eyebrows as he searches Nate’s face tells the second in command that maybe the 900-year-old vampire knows exactly who the plant is for, but is hoping it’s not. 

“The Detective.” 

There’s a failed attempt to hold back laughter from Felix, who is draped across a chair a few feet away, watching the exchange with the look of one who is thoroughly entertained. He tries to pass the sound off as a cough. 

Adam stiffens, shoulders tensing as he looks away from Nate and back at the golden pothos. With the heated gaze that Adam gives the poor thing, Nate’s surprised that it doesn’t just wilt. A perseverant one, that plant. Much like someone else Nate knows. Someone who hasn’t given up on his friend just yet.

“...Why?” Adam’s tone is clipped, and Nate knows he’s stalling. Trying to appear unmoved. A tree that stands firmly rooted in the ground, refusing to bow down to the wind. Grasping at a semblance of normality; of himself before they came to Wayhaven. Before… 

Before the Detective threw him off kilter and changed everything. 

“You broke the plant in the Detective’s office, remember?” 

Felix mumbles something about a desk. 

Nate continues, “And you said that you’d --” 

“I know what I said,” Adam says in a low voice, holding back a growl because this is Nate, and Nate is just being the friend he’s always been. He doesn’t look up. 

There’s a moment of silence, and in it Nate falters a bit, wondering if this was a good idea after all. If Adam wanted to brood in silence, then maybe that was -- 

Adam’s fingers reach out around the potted plant. He gingerly picks it up, shifting his grip so that it rests in the crook of one arm. Almost cradling it. 

Nate smiles warmly at Adam, who looks as if he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing. There’s an uncertainty in those green eyes of his, one that wasn’t familiar until about four months ago. 

And then he blinks and is moving away from Nate and across the common room to the door that leads out into the hallway. 

“I’ll be back,” he says once he reaches the door. 

“Okay, we’ll be here,” Nate says with a smile and an encouraging nod. 

“Though Nate never said you had to do it right now --” 

But Adam has already closed the door before Felix can finish his teasing. 

Nate’s gaze remains on the door for a short while, deep in thought and with hope in his chest. Felix watches Nate with an unusually straight face before a glint of mischief lights his eyes. He shifts in the chair, planting both feet on the rug and resting his elbows on his knees. His fingers lace together. 

“My, my, Natey,” Felix begins. Nate turns to him. “I never thought you’d be one to scheme.”

Amusement and a hint of pride dances around the young vampire’s words as he looks at Nate with respect in his gaze. 

The tall vampire rolls his eyes. 

“I’m just helping him. Replacing the Detective’s plant after he broke the pot is the right thing to do.” A light shrug. Hands dig into pockets. “Even more so now that the Detective is part of our team.” 

“Our family,” Felix adds with a thoughtful rub of his chin, eyes searching Nate’s face. He seems to find what he was looking for, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And getting our almighty leader and our wonderful Detective a moment alone had nothing to do with it?” 

Nate rolls his lips together to suppress a smirk. It’s too late, though, Felix has already seen it. Nate turns on his heels and begins to walk out of the room himself. 

“That would be a likely outcome, wouldn’t it?” Nate says, voice light as he ponders aloud, though it seems he had already considered this long before Felix suggested it.

The young vampire grins. 

.

You are bored. Bored as balls. You tap your pen against the surface of your desk repeatedly. 

Bored as… butts. 

You swivel in your chair, now tapping your pen against your knee. You eye the ceiling accusingly. Your paperwork has mostly been done, files saved and tucked into their rightful folders on your computer. And in a (normally) quiet town like Wayhaven, that left you, as the detective, with… nothing. Nada. 

Bored as books. Books can’t be bored. Bored as -- 

A knock raps against the glass partition. And then a familiar voice, one you love to hear. 

“Detective.” 

You spin around quickly, a smile on your face before you’ve even seen him. 

Adam. 

He stiffens under your gaze, shoulders rolling back and back straightening as if his posture could be any more correct. His eyes fall to the smile curling your lips, and that ice in the green… It melts. Softens. 

Your heart thumps hard against your chest. 

“Adam!” Your eyes fall from the softness in the green of his eyes to the dark green bundle held carefully in his hands. “And… plant.” 

You put down your pen and stand up from your chair, walking around your desk only to lean against it to be just that much closer to the vampire. You raise an amused eyebrow at Adam, biting a grin down. He is all too aware of the entertainment you’re finding in this, and his eyes harden, eager to find somewhere to look at that isn’t the distraction your eyes serve as. 

You want him to say it. 

But he doesn’t want to say it. 

You wait. 

He can wait too. 

You raise your eyebrows at him, chin dipping. Really?

He raises his eyebrows as well, this time challenging your gaze. 

But then your eyes are sparkling as if his sudden appearance is a gift on your birthday, just the one you’ve been excited to open; the one that’s shaped exactly like the thing you asked for. And he gives in. He loses, and he doesn’t feel terrible about it. Not one bit. 

“I told you I would replace Officer Poname’s gift to you.” 

He steps into your office, and you don’t know why your breath catches in your throat the way it does. You watch him as he moves to the file cabinet where Tina’s plant had once rested and, with a gentleness unfit of a man as strong as he, places the plant there. Almost exactly the place you remember putting the original plant. Or perhaps exactly there. 

Your stomach flips.

He turns to look at you, eyes soft and wandering slowly over your face. You hold your breath. 

Whatever state he was in, he snaps out of it and looks away. 

“That is all, Detective. I apologize once again for breaking your plant. I hope this one makes up for it.” 

You smile, and he watches from the corner of his eye. 

“More than enough, Adam. Thank you. Really.” 

His shoulders relax as if he had been afraid that you would say otherwise. He looks to you again, the intensity of his gaze startling you like always. You remind yourself of how to breathe. 

“Good.” 

He turns quickly, making to move out the door, but your mouth is quicker than that. 

“Wait!” You blurt, not really knowing what you want him to wait for. 

All you know is that you don’t want him to leave. 

He slowly turns back to you, eyes widened just a bit, enough for you to tell that maybe, hopefully, he wants to stay too. 

“Why don’t…” You fumble for a reason for him to stay. One he won’t refuse. One he’ll find tactical sense in as the leader of Unit Bravo. Think, think, think. You swallow. “Why don’t you stay until my day’s over? I could catch you up on everything that’s been going on down here. You might find something I missed.” 

Unlikely, you think, and not just because you're damn good at what you do. The action that the circus had brought along with it has finally settled, and Wayhaven has blinked and carried on as normal. But you have nothing else to go on. Damn it. This is a flimsy excuse. He’s definitely -- 

“Okay,” he nods, not even pausing a moment to consider it. “I’ll stay.” 

He’ll… stay?

He moves to the window and looks outside. 

He’ll stay.

“Okay,” you say, your voice sounding lighter than you would have liked. 

You hope he can’t hear the flutter of your heart as you move to sit back in your seat. 

.

Adam can hear your heart, its pace quicker than normal as if you had just run. He tries to ignore it, and almost successfully does, but… his own heart is harder to ignore. It pounds in his chest. 

Because he’s never been alone with you like this before. He feels restless as he stands, gazing out the window but not really looking. He needs to be doing something, but he doesn’t know what. Four months ago he would have been satisfied with staying still like this, but you’ve changed everything. 

Do you know that? 

His muscles are about to twitch in anticipation, and thoughts buzz in his mind, bouncing off its walls here and there. 

“So --” 

“Do --”

You speak at the same time that he is about to. He turns to you, hoping the surprise isn’t too evident on his face. Hoping he has caught the softness in his gaze before you can see it. But you are unlike any detective he’s ever worked with, and he knows he’s too late. You smile. 

And maybe it’s okay that he doesn't catch it in time. 

“So, I lied,” you inhale shakily, eyes darting away as if you felt guilty. He can see it on your face, lining the features he would never admit plagues his thoughts every moment he’s not with you. 

You look back at him as if seeking to gauge his reaction. He doesn’t move. 

“I’m done with today’s paperwork and… and nothing of interest or reason to be wary has occurred. I’m sorry. I…” 

It’s okay, he wants to say. I wanted so desperately to be here. More than you can know.

He bites his tongue and straightens himself. When had he leaned forward to listen to you speak? 

“It is alright.” 

You blink. 

“It-- It is?” 

He nods. 

“Oh,” you breathe, sighing in relief. “That’s good. Thanks.” 

You look away, and so does he. He is unsure of what to do now that there is technically no reason for him to be here, not as the commanding agent of Unit Bravo. That’s all he can remain to you. All he could bear to be. 

He makes to turn back to the window, but then you speak again, and he’s eager to listen. 

“Have you ever made a paper airplane?” 

“I am not Felix.” 

“So you have?” 

He can’t help the small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. “I have. I am quite good.” 

You raise an eyebrow and lean back in your chair. “Oh? Not as good as I am, I bet.” 

“Is that a challenge?” 

“I did say I’d bet, didn’t I?” 

Oh, you are always full of surprises. 

You pull out a few sheets of paper and grin at him. 

“Are you sure this is a productive use of your time as this town’s detective?” 

You’ve already begun folding your airplane, and you don’t even look up when you reply. “You scared, old man?” 

“Never.” 

It’s far from the truth. He is terrified of the power you have over him. The power that has him sitting in the chair in front of your desk. The power that has him pulling a sheet of paper from the stack and beginning to fold it into an airplane. 

He is terrified. 

.

You are giddy. 

And prideful. 

So, so prideful. Your paper airplane sails across the precinct from your office to the other side of the large room, landing beautifully on the floor. 

Adam’s barely makes it halfway across. The nose crumples when it hits the floor.

“Again! That’s 10, me, the wonderful Detective, and 0, you. Not so good as you said you were.” 

You grin and jab him in the side with your elbow teasingly. 

He growls in frustration, jaw tensing as he looks at his crashed paper airplane as if it has betrayed him. 

You laugh softly, walking to pick up both his and your planes. You dump them in the bin under your desk. 

“Been 70 years since you flew?” 

It’s a joke, but his eyes widen for a second and it has you thinking maybe you can read minds. 

But then again, you probably can’t. Otherwise this would be so much easier. You wouldn’t second guess everything Adam does. 

“Something like that,” he says, his voice almost… fond.

Of what? You? 

You shake away the wishful thinking. 

“Thanks for staying,” you say, shrugging on your coat. 

Your workday has ended, and you are almost sad that it has. You wonder if Adam will ever be this… unguarded again. 

You thank and say goodbye to the night volunteer. 

“It is nothing,” he says as the two of you walk outside of the building. 

But it is everything. You hope he knows that. 

The two of you step outside of the precinct, and a gentle breeze greets you. “It’s not… nothing, Adam.” 

You turn to look at him, only to find he is already looking at you. He does it in a way that steals your breath from your lungs. As if you are the only thing he ever wants to look at. 

The breeze ruffles his hair that he’s let grow just a bit, and the gold of the evening that washes over the town softens the strong lines of his face. You wonder, for a moment, if there are angels, and if he has lied about being a vampire. 

But no, he is just Adam. And you are looking at him through lenses crafted by love, understanding him to be beautiful in a way that no one ever has been to you. 

And probably ever will be. 

A ghost of a smile flickers on the corner of his lips, his gaze soft as it envelops yours. 

“I will see you soon, Detective,” he says softly, the words drenched in something you don’t understand. As if he wants to say something, to reveal something, but doesn’t know how to say it. Doesn’t quite know if he wants to.

You forget how to breathe.

“Bye, Adam,” you breathe, finally remembering how and not really wanting to say goodbye. 

What is it?

He nods, looks down the street, and when seeing no one, is gone in the blink of an eye. As if he were never there. 

A warm feeling curls and uncurls in your chest. 

Hope. 

Hope to someday find out what it is.