#about being gay. hour ten: i tell her i’m into women. her smile. god. she laughs and says she’s also into women. red cheeks

[gaywarenn]

.

[rowanaelinn]

Fire on Fire - Chapter Three

Chapter two // Chapter four

“My head’s gonna explode,” Elide Lochan sighed before she drank two big gulps of water as if she had been thirsty for days. Aelin knew the feeling. She’d been working for two hours now but it felt like ten. The bar was so hot and the music so loud, she couldn’t wait to go home and come back to the silence of her room.

Today was her first day and of course, it was a Saturday night, the busiest night of the week. The uniform, which was basically only a tight white shirt and a pair of black booty shorts, was one of the other reasons Aelin decided she hated this job but only stayed for the money. Aelin had been lucky today if you can call it that, but unfortunately, that luck didn’t extend to Elide.

Some douche-bags slapped her ass when she served him his drink, and of course, all his friends howled with laughter. As if sexual harassment was some kind of joke. The moment Elide mentioned this incident, Aelin had wanted to slam the guy's head on the table but Elide stopped her. The customer was always right and both Aelin and Elide needed this job too much.

They had decided not to tell their co-worker Manon about that, Aelin and Elide had already worked with her before and Aelin knew where Manon was, violence usually followed. It was something Aelin loved about that woman, and she also found it hot as hell. Okay, maybe she had a bit of a crush on the white-haired woman. But in Aelin’s defense, Elide did have a crush on her too. It was like a general experience.

“Do you think we’ll be fired if we don’t go back?” Aelin put her cold bottle of water against the back of her neck, in an attempt to cool her down.

“Definitely, Rofle is a dick. I mean have you seen this outfit?” The brunette turned on herself and gestured to the more than revealing clothes. Aelin agreed, if her cousin saw her in this outfit he would have a heart attack. She was suddenly glad this bar opened last week, at least Aedion didn’t know this place. Yet.

“Girls,” Nesryn interrupted them. “Break’s over. Go back to work.”

Aelin undid her ponytail, a forbidden hairstyle in this bar apparently, and went back behind the counter. She wore her best fake smile and ignored the lingering looks on her breast or her backside, winked and flirted back when clients thought they had a chance of taking her home with them. Aelin hid her disgust of these men pretty good, she was proud of herself for it.

She would quit if she wasn’t low on money lately. For hell’s sake, Aedion was paying half of her rent. It had been a very long discussion between them, Aelin would rather live on the street than depend on someone. Aelin got convinced when Aedion made it clear if she didn’t accept he would call her parents. So Aelin put her pride aside and accepted, at the only condition Aedion let her pay him back whenever she could. He had argued but accepted. The Ashryver family wasn’t very good at compromise, but at least they tried.

“Aelin, go take the order of table nine,” Manon yelled at her over the background noise. Aelin gave her a thumb up as she kept pouring alcohol in the shaker.

When Aelin was done making this cocktail she wiped her hands and walked toward table nine. She looked down to grab her little booklet and pen she left in one of the pockets of her apron as she said, “Hi, welcome to the sea dragon, what can I-” She stopped as she took in who was sitting in front of her. Lorcan Salvaterre, Fenrys, Connall Moonbeam, and of fucking course, gods-damned Rowan Whitethorn. She took a deep breath and smiled, but she knew her fake smile wasn’t as convincing as it was minutes before.

She focused on Fenrys and Connall, the only ones she could stand at that table. “What can I get you?”

Fenrys had an amused look on his face, accentuated by his smirk full of wickedness. “So this is your new job?” He asked, and if she didn’t know him the look could be considered genuine.

“You knew it, Fen. I told you hours ago.” Rowan’s head whipped to Fenrys, and Aelin’s face suddenly mirrored Fenrys’s. She didn’t know what the blonde had in mind, but if it annoyed Whitethorn, Aelin was on board. Rowan’s head turned back toward her and he narrowed his eyes. “Got something on my face, Whitethorn?” She couldn’t help it, she had to always argue with him.

“Yeah, all that make-up,” his eyes roamed over her body, it took everything in her not to move under the weight of his gaze. “What’s that outfit anyway?” His disdain was quite obvious.

“My uniform, dumbass.” She tightened her grip around her pen and notebook so much that her knuckles turned white. “Be careful, it almost sounds like you care.” It was one of the most sarcastic things she had ever said in her life, the look in his eyes was enough proof.

“Why would I care about you when you’re dressed like a stripper?” He crossed his arms and Aelin had to force herself not to stare at his muscles and at the tattoo on his arms. He was a handsome bastard and it made him quite hard to hate.

“So, no respect for sex workers, Whitethorn? Why am I not surprised?”

“No, actually I respect them a lot. You’re the only person I don’t respect.” It took everything in her not to punch him in the face right now, but that’s what he was waiting for. It was like he loved to see her lose control.

“I’m going to enjoy spitting in your drink.”

“Do that and I’ll have a nice chat with your boss, good luck to find another job, princess.” He was getting angry, Aelin loved that, it meant she was winning their little game.

“Feel free to do it, it just means you’ll have to share that splendid bathroom with me longer.��� She winked at him and wiggled her brows. Rowan clenched his jaw, another sign of his anger.

“Can you two stop for a minute? I’m thirsty.” Lorcan Salvaterre interrupted them and Aelin rolled her eyes. She wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with Lorcan either, but instead of always arguing as she did with Rowan, they just ignored each other.

“Who are they?” Elide asked as Aelin prepared her roommates’ order. The four of them wanted a beer, classic.

“Two of them are the bane of my existence and the two others annoying but very pretty.”

“I want him in my bed,” Elide said as she bit her lip. Aelin whipped her head toward the guys, trying to know which one she was talking about.

“I have no idea which one you’re already planning to get naked but one of them is gay and the other three aren’t good options.”

“Great, I don’t want good and I don’t want to be good. And It’s the tall one.” Elide winked and left before Aelin could say anything. Of course, Elide would be attracted to Lorcan. Alein went back to their table, accidentally spilling a little bit of Rowan’s beer on him when she accidentally tripped. He swore at her but she decided to ignore it, instead, she pushed him so she could sit next to him to be right in front of Lorcan.

“You,” She pointed at Lorcan, with her smile full of mischief.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She shook his head and she heard the twins laugh.

“What’s your type of woman?”

“Everything you aren’t.”

“I’m gonna look past that insult because I am an amazing woman,” she was cut off by Rowan’s snort. “You shut up, you’re thirty and still single.” She looked back at Lorcan but heard Rowan correct her on his age. His highness was still twenty-nine for three months. “What about 5”2, brunette, very very scary. She’s also one of the prettiest women I’ve ever seen, but unfortunately, she doesn’t have good taste. I’m not her type but you are.” She winked at him. Rowan muttered something that sounded a lot like “We aren’t teenagers anymore” but she ignored him.

Lorcan furrowed his brow, Aelin could see him hesitate. “Where?”

“Want to see her dance?” Aelin didn’t wait for the answer and walked back to the bar.

-

Rowan was mesmerized.

The moment Aelin Ashryver Galathynius started dancing was the moment he lost his mind.

He hated her for it, hated her for being the first thing anyone looked at when they entered a room. Hated her for being the most attractive woman he had seen in a while.

She had been raised to become this. Well, not to become a barmaid in a piss-poor bar in Doranelle. But to become the type of woman everyone looked at, everyone wanted.

With Evalin Ashryver as her mother, how could Aelin become something else? Her mother was an incredible actress, and one of the most famous ones. She was also known for being cunning, ambitious, and beautiful as a sin.

And with Rhoe Galathynius as her father, Aelin knew how to captivate an audience. Rhoe was a legend of football. Whenever he played, all eyes were on him. He was smart and as cunning as his wife, a perfect match if you listened to the papers. That’s probably why he was a coach now, and that’s also why his team almost always won.

So Aelin was born with amazing genes, a talent to bewitch everyone who looked at her, and a bank account bigger than anyone should have. That’s why he didn’t understand why she would be working here and living with five guys instead of just having a big apartment in the richest part of town. But Aedion had told everyone to never mention her parents, so they all listened. Everyone was careful to do just that, maybe because Lysandra had threatened to cut their favorite body part and to make them eat it if they ever mentioned Rhoe’s or Evalin’s name. All that the day they met her when she was one month away from turning eighteen.

Now this she-devil had him under her spell. He couldn’t stop looking at the way her hips moved perfectly on beat with the music, at the way her hands wandered over her stomach, the side of her breast, and then lifted her hair in the air. Or even at how close she was to her friend, the one who is apparently interested in Lorcan. Both of them were giving a show, and when Rowan finally looked away from the blonde it was to find almost every man with their eyes on her. She knew what she was doing, he knew she did. It made him want to yell at her, even at work she couldn’t help but want attention.

Aelin turned her head, and their eyes met. Rowan sat straighter, swallowing. Her sinful mouth turned into a smirk and she accentuated her hips’ movements, aware of Rowan’s eyes on her. It was also something they did, along with arguing. They caught the other checking the other out, but wouldn’t call them on it. They would never bring it up, it was like a secret between them. He shouldn’t find the idea of sharing something with her so exciting.

She never stopped looking at him as she danced, sometimes she would bit her lip, sometimes her hands would wander on her breasts. He had to stop himself from growling as his cock hardened. Aelin was a sin.

Who did she think she was? He hated her, he made that clear. She hated him, and she had also made that clear. Why did she feel the need to tease him? She was trying to mess with him, and it was working.

The bubble broke when one of Aelin’s coworkers interrupted her, telling her and her friend she was dancing with to go back to work. Rowan couldn’t help but stare at her ass as she walked back behind the counter. He would have felt bad for it, wasn’t it for the slight sway of her hips and the look she threw at him when she started serving people again.

“I want her.” Lorcan almost grunted, and against his best wishes and even if they weren’t talking about the same girl, Rowan agreed.

-

Aelin wasn’t tired, no, tired wasn’t a strong enough word to describe what she was feeling. It was almost three in the morning and her shift ended in one hour, thank god she wasn’t supposed to close the bar today.

A customer asked for another sex on the beach, his fourth of the night. Aelin smiled as she prepared it but decided it would be his last of the night. Rofle didn’t want his barmaids to stop clients from drinking because more drinking means more money. But all the money in the world wasn’t worth the customers’ life. She would never forgive herself if someone had a car accident or became an alcoholic because of the drink she served. She gave the drink and took the man’s car keys, saying she would call a cab when he wanted to leave.

Aelin’s phone started ringing and when she saw who was calling her she sighed. If she was tired now it would be worse by the end of the night.

“Hello,” She answered as she got into a cupboard to find some quiet.

“Hi, you’re Aelin Galathynius?” A deep male voice asked. From the tone of his voice, the man must be as exhausted as Aelin was.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Aelin already regretted picking up this gods damned phone.

“I’m sorry to bother you but a guy’s at my bar. He’s tall-”

“Yeah, I know exactly who it is. Let me guess, he is drunk and absolutely refuses to call a taxi because taxis are disgusting. He also told you to call me, didn’t he?”

“You got it all right.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “Where’s your bar?” She nodded when he told her the address and told him she would be here in half an hour.

Aelin went to Elide, apologized, and asked her to cover the rest of her shift. Elide understood, it wasn’t the first time Aelin had to leave for the same reason. Elide was pissed but not because she had more work, but because she didn’t want Aelin to go.

Aelin took her car and drove, maybe a little slower than she should but it was night. Roads were dangerous, especially on a Saturday night. Aelin parked right in front of the sidewalk. She took her phone and wanted to text Aedion to tell him she would be late but her phone was dead. Amazing.

Aelin walked into the bar and realized she didn’t take time to change clothes, she was still in her uniform. She crossed her arms, trying to cover her chest as best as she could. Even if she had liked to have Rowan Whitethorn watching her tonight, she didn’t want anyone else to look at her this way.

It didn’t take long to see who had called Aelin, she walked toward him, the bartender looked relieved someone would come to pick him up. “I’m gonna take that.” She told him, and he gave her the car keys. Aelin turned her head to grey eyes watching her body, of course, he would notice her lack of clothing. “Let’s get you home,” Aelin said, trying her best not to let her anger out, it’s not going to help tonight.

“Hello, darling,” Arobynn purred.

tag list:

@sheharahu // @morganofthewildfire // @thestoriesyoutell // @fromthelibraryofemilyj // @swankii-art-teacher // @itsforeverinnocent-blog // @becarefuloflove // @imnotsogoodatthis // @rowaelinismyotp // @a-court-of-milkandhoney // @feysand-loml // @surielandiareendgame // @live-the-fangirl-life // @story-scribbler // @mx—spelled //

[sylverstorms]

Fantasy Cruise

This piece is made for a very special someone, @standoutofthecrowd as a gift. The characters in this story are original and do not belong to any fandom. If you give it a read, I hope you enjoy ❣

Warning! The rating of this is M for Mature themes. ;)

They called it the Fantasy Cruise.

The hyper-luxurious ship of not-so innocent dreams, which promised to make anyone’s fantasies a reality during its five-day trip across the Mediterranean.

Well. So long as the money was there for an individual to afford one of its limited, mind-boggingly expensive tickets. Whoever said dreams were cheap clearly hadn’t heard of that cruise.

The advertisements all over the world promoted the experience as ‘starring in a romance movie’. And wouldn’t anybody be excited to star in their very own epic adventure?

“No.” Quinn deadpanned, dragging her luggage behind as she followed Lena into the fifth circle around the same deck, where their cabins were supposed to be.

“What do you mean no, stupid, isn’t this amazing?!” the other girl asked excitedly.

Quinn wondered what exactly was so amazing about getting lost on a piece of wood floating into the vast blue sea. Her glare met Lena’s back without much of an impact.

“No means no. It’s fine at best.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport, Quinn! Just look at this!” the redhead said, turning around to throw an arm around her shoulders and motion towards the polished-to-a-sparkle saloon, as if that would change the brunette’s entire worldview. “I won us free holidays to the world’s sexiest cruise. You should be beside yourself with excitement right now and buying me a shit ton of drinks as thank you!”

Quinn shook her head. “Correction; You won a trip for you and Mike –but then you had to go and break up and drag me into this, at the last moment.” As always. The woes of being a best friend.

“Because your single ass could really use what this dreamy ship has to offer.” Lena stated.

“It could also use some rest and relaxation at my grandparents’ seaside house.” The brunette countered. “Instead of being the wingwoman to the universe’s most annoying redhead.”

Lena grimaced. “And a sucky wingwoman, at that. Most of the guys I’m interested in come onto you.”

“Except I’m a tad too gay to care.” Quinn let out a small, exasperated sigh.

“Well, then this cruise is your chance! There are a ton of girls here and I can guarantee they aren’t straight as arrows, hon.” Lena replied. “Tell you what. When we find our rooms, we’ll take a look around. And if nobody exists to catch the great Quinn’s interest, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the trip.”

Quinn’s brown eyes immediately lit up at the sound of that.

“I should be offended at how much you perked up just now.” The other girl commented. “But, anyway. Do we have a deal?”

They shook hands. “We got a freaking deal.”

It only took another hundred turns to find their respective rooms.

…

Quinn was no stranger to waiting for Lena to get ready. The woman could show up anywhere from a quarter to an hour later than their arranged meeting time, so it was nothing out of the norm.

Alone in the empty corridor, Quinn checked her smartwatch, then leaned back against her door with a bored huff. She could already feel the ultra-comfy, queen-sized bed within calling her name, but if she gave into the urge to rest Lena would surely come in like the human wrecking ball she was and ruin it for her.

Giggles from down the corridor reached her ears, then.

Two girls were walking towards her, one raven-haired, the other blonde. Quinn didn’t really pay them any mind, until they were close enough to tell the cute laugh belonged to the blondie.

The stunning blondie.

Quinn hoped –but wasn’t betting on it— that she was subtle in her double-take. Because as soon as the beauty entered her field of vision, all else faded into the background. The girl’s hair was shining like silken strands, her pink lips glossy and glistening, absolutely kissable, her pretty face and killer body taken straight out of a dream.

Hazel eyes met brown for a single, earth-stilling second.

Then the girls were past her and Quinn blinked, checking the blonde’s back out before she disappeared around the next corner.

Damn, she thought. Maybe all that crap about fantasies coming to life weren’t complete bullshit, after all.

“Why do you look like a fish out of water?” Lena’s voice came, shattering the dream to pieces.

“Because I felt like one, waiting for your sorry ass to get ready. Move it or I’m going for a nap.”

“No, you’re not~ we’re hitting the pool.” Lena sing-songed.

Ugh. Maybe I can find someone to keep her busy for the next four days. Quinn thought. She’s happy, I’m free, win-win.

If she only knew…

…

“Hey. Hey look.” Lena whispered. Quinn huffed over her drink. “How about that guy? How would you rate him?”

“Why do you assume my answer’s gonna change? All guys get a zero out of ten from me. Period.”

“He’s an eight at least.”

“Sure, Lena.”

“How about that sexy over there, who’s been staring at your abs for the past ten minutes?”

“Hm?” Quinn turned, following her friends’ gaze under her glasses.

The drink nearly dropped from her hand when she saw the blonde from earlier on the other side of the crystalline pool, fair skin glittering from suncream. The brunette’s throat went dry.

“Ah, now she’s speechless.”

“Tsk. Don’t be an idiot, she’s probably not even gay.”

“Do you have eyes? Even I can tell she’s interested.” was the immediate reply.

“From this distance you couldn’t tell a dude apart from a girl, you idiot.” Quinn teased with a smirk.

“You’re the idiot if you don’t act fast and another girl chats her up first. Remember; We’re here to have a good time. Stop being uptight; There’s your good time, all blonde and waiting for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, Lena, whatever you say-” But her friend was already rising from her sunbed. Quinn didn’t pay her any mind, at first, thinking she was just going for a swim or for a guy that caught her eye.

Instead, five minutes later, much to Quinn’s terror, the insufferable redhead was taking a seat right beside the cute blonde.

To say the brunette rushed to the other side of the pool would be an understatement. She could not recall a single instance in her life where she ran faster. It was practically teleportation.

“Hello, girls. This one has had too much to drink so excuse me, I’m taking her away~”

“Lies, they needed to know you have the hots for blondie but you’re too pussy to make a move-” the redhead began.

Quinn covered Lena’s mouth with a hand, pulling her into a headlock with the other. “Shh, don’t listen. We’re leaving. Sorry for the interruption.”

“Sad.” Miss Cute Blonde spoke up with a shy smile. “So… you’re not interested in me.”

“I… did not say that.” Quinn replied, heart suddenly in her throat. “I also didn’t say I don’t want your number.”

“Oh, good.” Another darling smile.

God. Head empty, girl too pretty. Quinn mentally slapped herself to get her shit together. “And definitely didn’t say I don’t want to see you at the bar later. At, like, ten o’clock.” Thank whatever higher power graced me with this sudden bravery.

“Maybe I’ll be there.” The blonde said.

It was only after Quinn went back inside with her friend in tow that she realized she didn’t even ask for the girl’s name.

“You’re welcome.” Lena laughed.

“Shut up…”

“You’re such a useless lesbian, by the way.”

…

Night had well settled over the ship. The massive pool at its pinnacle stood illuminated by both the moonlight and the soft LEDs within it, creating a beautiful setting, equal parts calming and seductive. Perfect for drinks and dates.

Quinn adjusted her blue button-up shirt as she walked out into the deck, greeted by the wonderful sight. There were tons of well-dressed people all around, but her eyes caught on one individual only.

“Hi.” She greeted, surprised she could speak at all, with the gorgeous blonde right there and dressed up just for her.

“Hey.”

“You look beyond beautiful. Only problem is, I can’t keep calling you ‘cute blonde’ in my head.”

“You look sexy. And you can call me Paisley, Quinn.” she replied in her sweet voice.

“You… know my name.” Don’t blush, don’t blush—

“I asked your friend.” came the shy admission.

“Yeah? What else did you ask about me?” Quinn smirked, slipping into the stool next to hers.

“Um… if you like girls…?”

“If I like you?” Feeling bolder, she raised a challenging eyebrow.

“If you like me…” Paisley chuckled there at the end. It was a sound that shot straight to Quinn’s heart.

And that– was worrying.

Because this was quite literally her dream girl in front of her... except she’d already paid the price of dreams, before. It had felt similar, then, since the first moment. A zap, undeniable attraction. An instant connection. And then… she’d been left bitter and alone.

Cold. Afraid to approach women for anything other than one quick, meaningless night.

“I think it’s quite easy to tell I do like you. A lot of things about you. Your hair, your eyes, your smile, that melodic voice. How come a girl like you is single? That’s a crime.”

“Um. Long story, I guess. How come a girl like you is?”

“Long, unhappy story.” Quinn grimaced.

“I have time.”

They ended up chatting the night away, until the small hours of the morning.

…

The deck had nearly emptied.

Paisley and Quinn were walking side-by-side, admiring the dark waves as they gently lapped at the stark white shell of the cruise. It was time to say goodnight, but both were hesitant to go. To break the moment. To lose the chance for more.

Slowly, they turned to face each other.

“I had a great time.” Quinn began. “Thanks for the amazing company.”

“No, thank you…”

Neither moved to leave. Instead, they gravitated closer. Perhaps it wasn’t a smart move. Perhaps it would only lead to more trouble in the end. Perhaps it was fated. Perhaps it was fleeting.

But.

Quinn knew she would regret it for her entire life if she let Paisley slip away without first knowing exactly how soft her lips would feel against her own.

“So…” She began. “In the hypothetical scenario I wanted to kiss you before we go… would you like that?”

A brilliant smile, enough to rival the moon in its shine. “Hypothetically… I would.”

No more needed to be said.

The lock of their lips spoke the rest for them. Slippery, soft, tasting of daiquiri and strawberry lipgloss, that kiss was everything.

That kiss was the beginning of everything.

…

A full day had passed and they spent every moment together.

Swimming, laughing, trading interesting little facts and life stories. Trading kisses. What they had was a bond that formed so suddenly yet so powerfully it defied even logic.

As love often did.

And it was love. They both knew it, instinctively. Perhaps they weren't ready to admit it, perhaps the word was scary to fully register, yet that didn't make it any less true.

Every kiss fed something more than desire. Every caress, over an arm, over the gentle curve of a neck or a thigh, carried more than a physical aftershock.

They both knew they were on the same page on what they wanted, come nighttime. It was a wonder they hadn't ripped each other's bathing suits right by the pool so far. But they could only play nice for so long.

Quinn could feel her skin alight with want at every wayward trail of Paisley's nails on her. She wanted to have everything with the girl, even if it was just for a few days, just for one unforgettable night. They could worry about the rest later. They were already in too deep, anyway.

Paisley's back pressed against the door to her room. Her mouth was already onto Quinn's, tongue over her own, soft sighs and breaths filling the nonexistent space between their bodies.

Quinn's hands slipped under the blonde's top, caressing her tight, quivering stomach.

“Ah, at this rate we'll never make it inside.” Paisley panted.

“Good. Then whoever comes this way will know you're mine to have.” Quinn replied. Her teeth caught the sensitive shell of an ear. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? For them to walk in on us like this? With my hand in your pants, rubbing you slowly?”

“Mmh.. Fuck...”

“With my fingers in your pussy, working deep?”

“Fuck Quinn...” Paisley groaned, pushing herself down on the thigh trapped between her legs. It only made the ache at her center worse.

Quinn couldn't help but rub herself against her, to ease her own lust. Their lips locked again while Paisley fumbled blindly for the electronic lock. It was a wonder they got the door to open with how focused they were on each other. Quick steps took them to the plush mattress at the far end of the room.

The brunette pushed gently, taking great pleasure in how easily her lover allowed herself to fall. Pale wrists were pinned onto the bed while thirsty tongues and bodies sought each other out...

But then they both pulled back. Paused. Stared into each other's eyes. The mood shifted like the wind before a storm. All the previous lust melted into something softer and far deeper, the urgency muted as they slowly started peeling each other's clothes off.

“You really are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.” Quinn whispered.

“You're the most stunning I've seen.” Paisley said back, a hand caressing her brunette's strong shoulders.

As much as she wanted to melt under the ministrations, Quinn wanted to bring her girl to that serrated edge of bliss, first. Thus began her descent down the marble plane of the blonde's neck, pausing to mark the skin with her teeth before soothing it with licks and kisses, enjoying every hitched breath she drew.

God, she feels so good...

With a light caress over Paisley's thigh, her mouth licked over a hard nipple, paying it the proper attention before moving further down. Her blonde was quivering by that point, non-verbally begging for her release. Every muscle taut, every breath shallow, eyes blown into swirling black pools. She was breathtaking.

Everything about the moment was.

When deft fingers finally dragged over soaked flesh, the reaction was as immediate as it was loud. Quinn decided she could easily get hooked on the sound and repeated the same motion with her tongue, from bottom to top.

She could feel in her mouth how ready to topple over the edge Paisley was for her. How she tried to last longer but couldn't help it. Quinn didn't think she could wait any longer, either. She needed to see her unravel more than she needed oxygen, right then.

With the insertion of fingers and a powerful suck, Paisley was crying out into the room, arching, clenching and contorting for her. Quinn, brought to the edge by her voice alone, couldn't help but grind down on her leg to mirror her release.

They both lay together after that, basking in the quiet closeness of their afterglow, hands roaming, worshiping, until the sunrise greeted them with its golden glory.

...

“I'm scared.” Paisley admitted between them. “That when the cruise ends, so will we. And I'm not ready to let this go tomorrow.”

“Neither am I. Not tomorrow. Maybe not ever.” Quinn said. “I haven't felt this way before. I don't generally feel things so... powerfully.” But this one slipped right under her defenses, somehow.

“But how will we make this work? You live here. I live on the other side of the world.” The blonde lowered her head, expression overtaken by sadness. “We'll just hurt to be apart.”

“We'll hurt, yes. But we won't 'just' hurt. Every relationship comes with pain— I think it's unavoidable, whether one’s partner is near or not. The question is, whether that pain is worth it. And I'd rather hurt yearning for you than for not having you at all.”

“I— I don't know what to say...” Paisley trailed off. “I only know I can't bear to lose you.”

“You won't lose me if you don't let me go. I will never abandon you, never let you face this shitty world alone.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

A promise sealed with a kiss and intertwined fingers below a gorgeous sunset.

And as it turned out, love can defeat any obstacle if it's real and true. Physical restrictions don't matter when it comes to what the heart needs. Distance bends before it. Even time can. Laws of physics and reason cease to apply.

The heart will love what it is meant to love.

[sohotthateveryonedied]

No Matter What

Read here on AO3!!

Summary: 

Bruce figures out that his son isn't straight from an early age.

That doesn't make him love him any less.

- Eight Years Old -

Bruce is finally starting to get a hang of this parenting thing.

The first few months were rough, there’s no disputing that. Bruce lost track of how many times he panicked and called Leslie Thompkins whenever Dick burst into tears over something and Alfred wasn’t home. Not to mention all the times when Alfred would leave Bruce on his own for dinner, insisting that one must learn how to raise a child without a butler to help. Bruce fed the kid burnt chicken nuggets and garlic bread for two nights straight. Now, though? Bruce is immensely proud of how far he and Dick have come. He’s even taken to attending PTA meetings, if only for the free coffee and doughnuts. He hears the front door open right on time, then wet boots hitting the floor. Dick had a half day today to make room for meet-the-teacher night later. Bruce isn’t looking forward to spending two hours sitting in a chair made for eight-year-olds, listening to a teacher in plastic pearls talk about an elementary schooler’s oh-so challenging curriculum. At least he’s only got the one; he has no intention of having more kids after Dick. Bruce busies himself with his mostly unburnt slice of toast, one ear trained on the footsteps through the foyer accompanied by unceasing chatter that Bruce has grown quite fond of over the months. “—and then they let us outside for recess even though it was raining, and I went on the swings and my hair got all wet and it was so cool.” “That explains the muddy clothes,” Alfred says. “Sorry, Alf. I’m not immune to mud puddles.” “It would appear so, Master Dick.”

The two of them enter the kitchen, Dick working his elbows out of his yellow rain slicker to reveal the school uniform beneath. His cheeks are rosy, his eyes bright. “Hiya, Bruce!”

“Hey, champ. How was school?” “It was awesome. It was raining all day and at recess there were a ton of puddles all over the playground and a million worms. I didn’t touch them though, ‘cause the teacher said not to.” “What snack would you like, Master Dick?” Alfred asks, taking Dick’s discarded raincoat and folding it over his arm. “Can you do ants on a log?” “Coming right up, sir.” Dick heaves himself up on the bar stool beside Bruce, his sock feet kicking against the lower cupboard. Bruce spreads marmalade over his toast. “Tell me more about school. Any fights today?” “Nope,” Dick says proudly, flashing his gapped teeth. Dick and another boy got into a scuffle on the first day over a comment about whether Dick’s parents being from the circus meant they were part monkey. It’s a miracle Dick only gave the kid a nosebleed and didn’t break anything. The principal let Dick off with a warning since it was his first time at a normal school, but Bruce has a feeling the only reason he wasn’t expelled was because his guardian is the most powerful man in Gotham City. Bruce had a stern talk with Dick when they got home about the importance of controlling one’s actions. Traveling the world in a circus train car doesn’t do much to help one’s impulse control. He also banned Dick from watching television for the rest of the night, but Dick’s crocodile tears swayed him to balance it out by letting him have ice cream before dinner. That’s good parenting, right? “I even made a friend,” Dick says. “Oh? What are they like?” “His name is Caleb and his desk is right next to mine, so we talked during reading time. Then he gave me some of his chocolate during lunch and we played on the swings together at recess.” “Ah, the wonders of childhood friendship,” Alfred says from where he’s slicing up a celery stalk at the other end of the counter. He sounds relieved, and Bruce finds himself matching it. Dick has been at Gotham Elementary for almost a week and hasn’t made a single friend until now. Bruce can’t tell if that is more because of Dick’s circus background or because he is a tan-skinned boy with the barest of Romani accents attending a predominantly white private school. Sometimes (all the time) Bruce loathes being associated with Gotham’s high society. If you’re not white, straight, and rich, you are automatically shunned in their minds. “He sounds great, Dick.” “Yeah! And he’s got really pretty eyes too. I can’t tell if they’re brown or green, but they’re sparkly like glitter.” Bruce arches an eyebrow. “You must like him a lot.” He takes a bite of his toast, making eye contact with Alfred over the boy’s head. Alfred doesn’t react but for a twitch of his mustache. Dick nods, focus switched over to the plate Alfred slides in front of him. Dick takes a celery stick and picks off the first raisin coated in peanut butter, licking it off his thumb. “I hope he talks to me again tomorrow. Alfred, can I bring an extra snack to lunch tomorrow so I can share it with him?” Alfred smiles. “Of course. I will pack a second cupcake in your lunchbox tomorrow morning just for him.” “Thanks, Alf.” Dick goes right back to eating his ants on a log, cheerful as ever, completely unaware of the swarm of question marks buzzing around in Bruce’s head. Huh. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Eleven Years Old - Bruce gets home from a three-hour business meeting, his sandpapery eyes aching to close and stay shut for...let’s go with ten years? That should be enough. He loosens his tie and prepares to go upstairs to his bedroom where he’ll spend the next decade of his life hibernating, until he sees his ward on the living room sofa. Dick is lying on his stomach with his face buried in a throw pillow, as if he’s waiting for the sofa to swallow him whole. Must have been a bad day if he’s not sliding down banisters and flipping over chairs like usual. Sighing, Bruce goes over. “Dick? You alive over there?” “Mmph.” At least he’s conscious. Bruce sits on the arm of the couch, shaking Dick’s thin shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. Use your words.” “Mmph.” “Bad day, then?” Dick nods. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Dick shakes his head. Bruce sits back with a frown. “Alfred?” he calls. Alfred pokes his head in. “Yes, Master Bruce?” Bruce gestures to their anguished preteen. “It would seem that our lad had a rough day at school. He wouldn’t tell me what, but I’m making his favorite casserole for dinner. Hopefully that will perk him up.” Bruce turns back to Dick, who hasn’t moved. “C’mon, Dickie. Sit up so I can see your face.” Reluctantly, Dick forces himself upright with one last groan into his pillow. His hair is mussed, standing up on one side. There’s a pillow crease on his cheek. He sits back against the sofa, miserable. “Better.” Bruce prods Dick’s ribs which earns him a giggle, goading the kid into sliding over a few inches so Bruce can sit beside him. Dick leans into his side immediately and Bruce puts his arm around him. “Now, tell me what’s got you down.” “I want to transfer schools.” “How come?” As far as he’s known until now, Dick has loved middle school. His childhood took a bad turn when his parents’ ropes snapped, but preteen life is at a good start. Until now. Dick’s gaze is trained on his sneakers, kicking them where they hang over the edge of the couch. “Some kids in my science class were talking crap about me.” “Don’t say crap.” “Can I go to a new school? Please?” “What did those kids say about you?” Dick picks at a dime-size hole in his jeans. “They called me gay,” he says quietly. Bruce tightens his arm around the boy, his heart panging. Of course someone had to bully Bruce’s kid. As if his life hasn’t already been hard enough without stupid teenagers making it worse. “I wasn’t even doing anything wrong. I was just talking to my lab partner, and the guys at the next table over started whispering about us. Then they started throwing papers.” “Did you tell the teacher?” “No. But I know she noticed. Everyone did. She just didn’t do anything about it.” That sets Bruce’s blood to a boil. Teachers have a responsibility to protect their students, no matter what. What gives her the right to turn a blind eye to bullying, just because a couple of students might not fit the agreed-upon standards of “perfect” upper class society? “I’ll set up an appointment with the principal,” Bruce decides. Dick’s eyes get wide. “Bruce, no. Please. It’s fine, really. I don’t want this to turn into a big deal.” “What did you do when it happened?” Dick shrugs. “Nothing. My lab partner stopped talking to me, so I just asked to go to the bathroom and didn’t come back until the bell rang.” Bruce sighs. Middle schoolers are the worst, every last one of them. (Except for Dick, of course; he is perfect.) “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Kids can be cruel—especially at your age, when they start learning new words that they don’t understand the way they should. They think some words are insults or something to be ashamed of when they’re not. Most kids grow out of this. Too many don’t.” “People suck,” Dick mutters. “I don’t even know why they were saying all that stuff. I’m not...I’m not like that” Bruce bites his cheek. He’s going to have to be careful about this. “Dick, do you know what being gay means?” “Duh. It’s when two guys date each other. I’m not stupid.” “I know you’re not stupid. But gay can mean a lot of things. Men can like other men, just as women can love other women. Like Kate, for instance. Then there are bisexual and pansexual people who love all genders, and asexuals who don’t like either.” Thank god Bruce thought ahead and read some LGBTQ+ research books all those years ago when he first began to suspect that Dick wasn’t heterosexual. “And transgender is when someone doesn’t identify with the gender they were assigned at birth. Sometimes people feel more like a man, a woman, neither, or both.” “...Okay?” “I just want to make sure you understand these things, because part of being a respectful person means respecting others for who they are. And if you don’t completely understand the label they identify as, then it’s your job to try and understand it the best you can.” “Why?” “Because too many people in this world judge others for things they can’t control, and that’s not right. No one should have to feel like they were born wrong. And I want to make sure you know this, that way you can be better than those who choose to hurt others for things they can’t control.” “Does that mean the guys who made fun of me are bad people?” “I’m sure they aren’t. They might just be confused because they don’t understand that being gay isn’t anything bad or dirty. The people in this part of Gotham...they don’t accept a lot of things. They think that being queer or a person of color means you don’t deserve respect, and that’s wrong. It was wrong of those kids to tease you and your lab partner the way they did.” Dick nods slowly. “I’m not gay.” “I know. I just want you to be aware of these things. And if you ever have questions or need to talk, you can always come to me.” He ruffles Dick’s hair. “Even when other people are nasty, remember that I love you no matter what, got it?” Dick shoves Bruce’s hand away and smoothes his hair back out, grinning. “Yeah, yeah. I got it.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Thirteen Years Old -

What’s the difference between a growth spurt and a shark? 

Dick doesn’t have any sharks. “We’re home!” Dick announces. He and Alfred stumble into the house, their arms filled with all kinds of shopping bags. With Dick shooting up half an inch nightly these days, he’s growing out of his clothes at a rate even Bane would gawk at. Bruce and Alfred can barely keep up with the kid. “Want to see what I got?” “Show me, pal.” Bruce sets aside his tablet and pushes his reading glasses up on his head. (He does not have poor vision, thank you very much. Leslie just made him get a prescription as a precaution, that’s all. He’s still young by anyone’s standards, just ask Selina.) Dick starts pulling clothing out of the boutique bags, showing off every one of his new sweaters and pairs of Alfred-approved jeans. After ten minutes that Bruce desperately tries to look interested during, Dick pulls out what looks like a t-shirt that’s been sliced in half horizontally. The fabric is bright pink with a chibi whale on the front. “This one is my favorite,” Dicks says. His grin is blinding. Bruce stares for a long moment, his brain a lagging computer drive. “What is it?” “It’s a crop top. You know, like a belly shirt?” Memories from Dick’s Kim Possible phase flash in front of Bruce’s eyes. “Alfred let you buy that?” “Yeah?” Dick’s smile flags. He lowers the crop top, suddenly self-conscious. “Do you not...like it?” “You were supposed to get winter clothes, Dick. For cold weather.” “So?” “That’s clearly something you’re supposed to wear during the summer.” Dick pouts. “But I like it.” He holds it up against himself, twisting this way and that like an amateur model. “Sorry, kiddo. You’re not leaving the house in that until springtime.” “Oh, so Robin can wear tiny shorts in the winter, but Dick Grayson can’t wear a harmless crop top? I smell hypocrisy.” “Yes, because Robin has thermal leggings and a built-in heater in his uniform.” He looks back at the pink monstrosity, at Dick’s pleading eyes. “I would be open to negotiations if you’re willing to wear a sweater under it.” “That’s not how fashion works, B.” “I don’t care. You can wait until it gets warmer out to wear it.” “You’re such a drag,” Dick whines. He lifts his dozens of shopping bags and goes to leave, then turns right back around. “What if I wear a jacket over it and promise to keep it closed whenever I’m outside?” Bruce considers that. “Fine. But not below fifteen degrees, got it? And if I see you outside for even five seconds without the jacket, I’m confiscating the Xbox. Deal?” “Deal.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Fourteen Years Old -

Something is different about Dick today. You’d think his boots were made of helium with the way he floats through patrol, and then smiles into his late-night milkshake like it did his homework for him. Bruce sits beside his Robin on the roof of Wayne Tower, silent for as long as he can bear before he can’t hold it back any longer. “Did anything interesting happen today?” “Huh?” Dick looks up as if Bruce pried him and his thoughts apart with a crowbar. “You’ve been...different. Happy.” “Am I not usually happy?” “No, you are. Just seems like you’re...extra happy, for whatever reason.” A blush dusts the kid’s cheeks. He sips his chocolate shake and shrugs. “Dunno. It was just a good day. Nothing special.” Yeah, and Bruce is a goddamn unicorn. Still, he knows better than to pry where Dick doesn’t want him. It’s a delicate thing. “If you say so.” “I got a hundred on my English essay,” Dick offers. It’s a start. “Was that the one on Grapes of Wrath?” “That was last month. We’re on Animal Farm now. It’s not my favorite.” “Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of Orwell either. Shakespeare was okay, but I preferred his tragedies over his comedies.” “Of course you did.” That makes Bruce laugh. He’s not worried; the two of them are high enough that no one can hear it. Bruce even has his cowl down, his face exposed to the cool air. “They had quinoa burgers at the cafeteria today.” “Mm-hm.” Dick is dodging something, beating around whatever bush he wants to talk about. Bruce can be patient while he figures it out. “And I spent some time with Barbara after school.” “Oh?” “Yeah. We walked home together and we took this old path through the park. Then we kissed.” Bruce chokes on his milkshake. He coughs, his sinuses burning and eyes watering. When he recovers, he says, “That’s...that’s great, chum.” “Yeah.” Dick can’t stop smiling, a true schoolboy in love. “And she asked if I wanted to patrol with her tomorrow night, but I said I needed to check in with you first.” “I don’t see why not.” It’s not like Bruce hasn’t patrolled without Dick before. Sure, he misses the company on the few days a week he’s alone, but he’s not about to deny Dick the thing he clearly wants. “You sure? You look...freaked out.” “No, no. That’s...great, that you kissed. Congratulations.” Awkward. He’s so fucking awkward. Stop being awkward right now. He doesn’t know why this is messing with his head so drastically. Bruce has listened to Dick moon over girls for the entirety of his pubescence, talking about them like they’re goddesses he’s forbidden to look upon, Barbara included. And Bruce has seen the way Dick and Barbara interact with each other in between muggings, always talking with their heads bent close like they’re the only two people in the world. Who would have thought Batman could be a third wheel? “I’ve liked her for a while now, but I didn’t know if she liked me back and I was too nervous to ask.” Dick’s face goes even pinker. “Kissing her was cool.” Part of Bruce’s brain jumps at the realization that, holy shit, Dick just had his first kiss, my little boy is growing up, what a milestone. The other part is far less happy about this new development. Yes, Bruce has seen Dick win brawls with men three times his size. He can fly the Bat-jet on his own, knows six languages, and is even leading his own superhero team. And yet, all Bruce can think is, no, not my little boy, he’s just a baby, Batgirl is corrupting his innocence and She Must Be Stopped. With great effort, Bruce holds it all back. He’s read the parenting books, he knows that it’s important to be supportive when they’re at this age. “Good to hear. I’m happy for you.” He pats Dick on the shoulder. “Thanks, B.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- Sixteen Years Old - “Hey, Bruce? Can I talk to you?” Bruce doesn’t look up from the metal flakes he’s testing. “What is it?” “I can come back later if you’re busy.” “No, I’m just analyzing some samples. I’m looking for residue from one of Zsasz’s blades.” Dick steps forward, tentative for once. “Need any help?” “I would like for you to come out with whatever it is you clearly need to tell me.” Dick snorts quietly. “Nice phrasing.” “What?” “I think I’m bisexual.” Bruce turns around, forgetting about the samples entirely. Dick’s arms are crossed over his chest, his eyes skipping between everything that isn’t Bruce’s face. At sixteen years old he’s finally tall enough that he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look at Bruce anymore. “You...think?” “I am. I’m bisexual.” “Okay.” “Is that cool with you?” The question shocks Bruce. “Of course it is.” Did Dick honestly think this would change anything? Has Bruce done something wrong, made Dick think that he wasn’t loved unconditionally? Dick squints, appraises Bruce’s reaction. “You knew, didn’t you.” “No.” “Bruce.” “I knew a little bit.” Dick rolls his eyes. The tension slips from his shoulders. His arms uncross. “Of course you did.” “Well, you weren’t exactly subtle about it.” “What the hell does that mean?” “Language,” Bruce chides, more out of habit than anything. “And do you realize how often you would come home after elementary school complaining about stupid pretty boys?” “That was just me being dramatic.” “I’m not disputing that. But they were still crushes, pal.” “I figured you thought it was just a phase.” Bruce shrugs. “Maybe for the first few days. But trust me, I have known you liked boys since you were a kid.” “Then why didn’t you just say so? It took me years to figure this all out, and you’re telling me you’ve been sitting on this info the whole time?” “Because this is your truth, not mine. I knew that you would tell me about it when you were ready. And you have.” Dick is clearly fighting a smile. He bites his lip instead, runs a hand through his mop of black hair that not even Alfred can wheedle him into combing anymore. “Well, I’m heading to the tower for the night, so don’t wait up, ‘kay? Kay. Good talk.” He goes to leave, but Bruce stops him. “Hang on. Why choose now to tell me?” Dick stuffs his hands in his pockets—an obvious tell. “No reason. I just...wanted you to know. Just in case.” “In case of what?” “Oh, you know.” Dick waves his hand in a gesture that clarifies absolutely nothing. “Life happens. People meet each other. You know how it is.” Bruce’s soul implodes. “You have a date?” “I never said that.” “You implied it.” “Real detectives rely on evidence, not theories.” Dick winks. “Tell me who it is. Are they a civilian? A hero? Do they come from a respectable family?” If it’s Roy Harper, Bruce might have to bury a body tonight. Especially after learning about Harper’s drug problem. Dick is too pure for someone like that. Or—heaven forbid—that Wally West kid. Dick is already walking away. “See ya, Bruce!” “You come back here, Richard John Grayson! Do I know him? Does he know your father is Batman?” Dick’s cackle echoes around the cave. “It had better not be a speedster!”

[quillsink]

I thought mainstream acceptance of gay people (to whatever extent) preceded the internet?

I am just looking at multiple angles - what if like these people I am a cis who is misidentifying - trying to understand -

So how did you know you are trans? Are you a trans man or transmasc? The two are a bit different right? And do your parents/friends/relatives/community know and support this?

“Mainstream acceptance of gay people” bro what planet are you living on as if we’re accepted 😭

Gay people are like...really not still widely accepted. Idk if you’re living in a progressive country or something but there are still multiple countries where being gay is quite literally a death sentence. Being gay was illegal in this country within my lifetime, and I’m a teenager. There is no mainstream acceptance globally.

Listen to detrans people, absolutely, and people who misidentified--it’s good to look at something from multiple angles. But for the love of god, don’t listen to people who have the same beliefs as gender critical people and call being a trans a dangerous ideology.

I know I’m trans because I just am, really. It’s that simple. I’m a boy because I am.

Whenever I was a kid I experienced social dysphoria constantly. Being called a woman or a girl made me flinch, being called she or her made me wildly uncomfortable. I felt out of place in the women’s bathrooms and looked longingly at the men’s.

I also experienced euphoria—when strangers were confused about my gender or thought I was a boy, I felt so happy I wouldn’t stop thinking about it the entire day.

I could not picture myself with a future as a woman but I knew it wasn’t internalised misogyny—I could picture my female friends with successful futures and jobs, but I couldn’t see myself growing old unless I saw myself as a man.

I remember when puberty first hit when I was in my early teens and I would stare at the mirror with tears in my eyes and I would pray, “please, god, do not let me be a man, if I am the world will kill me ten times over”

I had had almost no exposure to trans people, but when I got social media I was immediately drawn to the trans community. I’d watch transmasc tiktoks for hours on end, spend lengths of time looking through the #trans and #nonbinary tags, looking at art of top surgery, watching transition timelines and feeling something I’d never felt before. Some sense of home.

Realising I was trans was like coming home after wandering in the wilderness for years. 

I had jokingly talked about questioning before and my friends talked to me about it and suggested trying on some labels and I took the leap and identified as nonbinary. I changed my pronouns in my bio to they/them and it felt like a weight was being taken off my shoulders and it was at that moment I knew, on a Discord VC with my friends. I was trans. The world was going to hate me for it. I would survive.

You see, I know I am trans because it is what comes naturally to me. It’s like...breathing in and out. I’m trans. I just am, it’s just me being myself. 

And I know I’m trans because it makes me happy. Happier than anything has ever made me in my entire life.

Because I know who I am when I cut my hair and look in the mirror and I finally, finally see myself, I see a boy and not a girl staring back at me and I smile for the first time in years. Because I know who I am when my friends call me my real name, my chosen name, a masculine name and I grin widely. Because I know who I am when my friends call me he and him and a boy and I smile because I am at home, after years of feeling like I’m someone else I am me. 

Being trans makes me happy, so I am trans. 

A trans man is generally someone who identifies as a binary man, while a transmasculine person is anyone who is AFAB, trans, and has a masculine identity. 

I don’t really label my gender, but if I had to I would label myself as transmasculine.

My parents don’t know and I’m not ever planning on telling them. They suspect, though. My father has almost forced me to out myself multiple times to the point where he was yelling while I was quite literally crying, my mother told me about friends she had who were confused girls who thought they were boys then got boyfriends and grew out of it. My father yelled at me and demanded to know why I’m dressing like a boy. So yeah. Not telling them anytime soon.

My friends know and they’re all supportive, since most of them are queer in some way. I have a few trans/nby friends who know what it’s like and they support me, and my cis queer friends support me as well.

Ha, my relatives? Lmao as if. Fuck no man. Hell if they knew I was gay even I’d get hell, let alone trans lol. They’re conservative as fuck and gave people in the family literal hell for marrying into the “wrong caste” and it wasn’t even the caste but a different subset within the caste? They’re fucking conservative and religious as hell lmaoooo if they knew I was gay/trans I don’t think I’d ever see them again lol.

Community? Nah man I’m closeted, India’s literal fucking hell for trans people lol. Did you know the suicide statistics here for trans people is like fucking close to half? Lmao yeah nah man this country is shit, I’m closeted. My friends and the internet are the only places I’m accepted.

[missluthorwillseeyounow]

Hitch Me To The One I Love (Supercorp Hitch AU), part 1

Supercorp Hitch AU where Kara is a dating "consultant" who helps her clients, mostly useless gays, get the girl. She's got a little bit of a chip on her shoulder, because her ex-girlfriend, Siobhan cheated on her when she was still a gullible and vulnerable kid in college (I'm imagining a scene where Siobhan derides her by saying that she's "out of Kara's league").

Since then, Kara's kind of made it her mission to help her fellow gays avoid the same heartbreak she experienced. She's a hopeless romantic, who believes that everyone should have a chance to get the person of their dreams, even if they're "out of their league". She's clever about it so no one ever traces anything back to her, and her dorky charm and sunny demeanor keeps people from connecting her with this "Supergirl" matchmaker that everyone keeps talking about. She's made a lot of successful matches, and all her clients are grateful to her, and they pass her business along by word of mouth.

Enter Veronica Sinclair. 

Kara goes to meet her, thinking she's another ordinary client, but when Kara sees her, she immediately knows something's off, because Veronica is stunning, sultry and confident in an eat-you-alive kind of way. There's no way she needs help getting a girl - any girl, or anyone for that matter. Then Veronica starts telling her about this woman she wants to pursue.

"She's.... something else. There's always been something elusive about her. We were at boarding school together, briefly. We never got along then. But now.... Now, things are different. The stakes are higher. She never returns my calls, won't even look my way. It's infuriating! I've been trying to fuck her for years--"

Kara chokes. "Excuse me??"

"Fuck her," Veronica says with a catty smile at Kara's spluttering. "Rail her until she can't walk the next day. Bend her over her desk and break her in half. Have her on her knees with my fingers in her mouth. I really don't know why I need to explain this to you. You're supposed to be the professional."

"I think you may have misunderstood what I do." Kara tries to storm off, but Veronica catches her by the arm.

"I think you may have misunderstood who you're talking to." Veronica murmurs, low and dangerous. "I'm not the sort of person people say no to. People can wince, cry or beg, but eventually, they do what I want. "

Before she can finish her threat, Kara has her in an armlock, and Veronica's face is pushed up against a wall. "And I'm not really the sort of person who likes to touch or be touched without permission. I'm all about consent, y'know."

Kara lets her go with a forced cheery smile before storming out.

_________

Lena, on the other hand, is the reclusive CEO of L-Corp. Her dating life is nonexistent, because she's married to her work, and trying to repair the shambles of the company her brother almost bankrupted with his schemes.

She had her gay awakening in boarding school, secretly staring at Veronica Sinclair's profile in biology class, and watching her smoke under the bleachers from afar. Lena as a schoolgirl was much too focused on escaping everyone else's radar that she and Veronica didn't interact much, but when they did, they didn't get along. Veronica was too much like a snake for Lena's liking - beautiful to look at, but venomous and deadly.

So when Veronica begins displaying an interest in her, Lena avoids her as much as she can. It's not that difficult, she's the CEO of a multinational conglomerate after all.

Things change when Veronica begins to.... court her. Or whatever version of it Veronica is capable of - which, coming from Veronica, feels more like coercion than courtship.

Veronica keeps sending gifts to L-Corp, and when Lena ignores or returns them, she begins making donations to Lena's various charities and sends her extensive (and admittedly sometimes dubious) contacts Lena's way whenever she gets wind that Lena has need of them for whatever innovation she plans to develop next. 

She conveniently runs into Lena, at galas and fundraisers, and other various events that Lena mostly goes to just to keep up appearances. Every time, Veronica is there, scorching Lena with dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

And Lena is only human.

It's nice to have all this positive attention when all her life she's lived under the shadow of her family's infamy, especially when she's been dragged by everyone recently after what Lex did. 

And she will admit, it.... it feels nice to be desired after being scorned for years, especially by someone she had stared at and wanted for years as a girl.

She gives in and agrees to a drink. One drink. That ends up with her bent over her kitchen counter, panting against the marble while Veronica fucks her from behind.

Veronica doesn't stay the night. Nor does she answer any phone calls the next day. When Lena finds out that one of the contacts Veronica had sent her way backed out from an important project at Veronica's insistence, she deletes Veronica's number from her phone. 

When scandalous pictures of Lena and Veronica in a very clearly compromised position are released by the tabloids, she grits her teeth and takes the hit from the board of investors. Then she downs two glasses of her heaviest scotch in quick succession before drinking it straight from the bottle.

Jess, ever the efficient assistant, gathers as much information as she can on Veronica for retaliation. That’s when she first hears about “Supergirl”, this elusive dating consultant who, from what Jess gleaned from Veronica’s circles, supposedly connects people with women they want to sleep with.

She almost doesn’t tell Lena. But Jess knows her well, and she knows Lena would rather know the truth. So Jess tells her, and hands her the nondescript little blue and red business card with an anonymous phone number on it.

Lena looks down at it, the muscles of her jaw twitching even if the rest of her face is still. When Jess leaves, she throws it in the trash, and throws herself back into work.

_________

Fast forward a year later, Kara meets Lena when she acquires tickets to an L-Corp event for one of her clients. She’s there mostly for surveillance and as back-up for her client, in case she’s needed, but she spots Lena drinking alone at the bar.

Kara sits down next to her with a smile. Lena politely nods back before she goes back to nursing her own drink.

Kara keeps studying her, even though Lena pointedly ignores her, and out of the blue, Kara tips her glass at her and grins. “I bet you a date I can make you laugh.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You look like you could use a laugh right now. I bet you one date that I can make you laugh.”

“Excuse me--”

“Hear me out. My terms are simple. If I can make you laugh, I get to take you out on a date. Preferably somewhere as far away as we can get from this stuffy shindig. It’s a win-win for you. Your mood gets better, and you get to see me out of my suit.” Kara leans in with a conspiratorial grin. “‘Cause if you think I look good in a suit and tie, trust me, I look much better in jeans and a t-shirt. ”

“Oh, really?” Lena’s expression morphs from one of surprise to amusement. “And what do I get if I win?”

“Well...” Kara’s grin goes wider, and she intentionally drops her eyes to Lena’s lips. Lena’s mouth parts a little, but instead of moving forward, Kara plops the small tub of maraschino cherries from the bar in front of her. “I’ll share these with you. And if you knew me, you would know what a big deal it is that I’m even offering to share food with you.”

The corner of Lena’s lips lifts into a small smile. “Deal.”

She offers a hand out for Kara’s to shake, and Kara takes it in hers. Kara’s hand is warm, calloused and long-fingered. Lena quite likes the feel of it, but she’d rather die than admit it. Just like she’d rather die than give Kara a laugh.

The next half-hour is spent with Kara using the worst pick-up lines on her, each progressively worse than the next, in an effort to make Lena laugh.

“Do you believe in love at first sight—or should I walk by again?”

“I'm no photographer, but I can picture us together.“

Lena shakes her head. “God, you are bad at this.”

“Well, can you blame me? You’re so beautiful you made me forget my pickup line." Kara winks, and Lena bites her lip to keep from smiling too much.

“Here’s another one -- Is this the Hogwarts Express? Because it feels like you and I are headed somewhere magical.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “Oh God, and you’re a nerd.” She neglects to mention that she’s probably a bigger nerd than this girl.

“Do you like Star Wars? Because Yoda only one for me!” Lena almost grins too widely at that one, but she schools her expression.

“Are you the SAT? Because I’d do you for 3 hours and 45 minutes with a ten minute break in the middle for snacks.”

Lena takes a sip of her whiskey to hide her smile. “I finished mine in under two hours, so...”

“Well, I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty good with numbers. Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it.”

“Can I follow you where you’re going right now? Because I was always told to follow my dreams.”

By now, Lena’s struggling not to smile too much. Her mood has definitely improved, thanks to this nosy yet attractive blonde with the sparkling blue eyes and the irrepressible grin. 

When Kara tries her next pick-up line “Didn’t I see you on the cover of CatCo magazine?” Lena finally laughs. Kara’s face lights up and she does a fist-pump.

“You probably did, I was on the cover last January.” Lena holds out her hand again. “Lena Luthor.”

The other woman grins widely, irresistibly. “Kara Danvers.”

“I guess I owe you a date, Kara Danvers.” Lena smiles as she rises from her seat. Just before she leaves, she slides the tub of cherries back toward Kara.

“Just so you know, I’m allergic to cherries.”

__________

Their first date is a disaster. 

Hordes of paparazzi attempt to follow them, all eager for the scoop on “Lena Luthor’s new lady love”, and Lena’s security team deems it unsafe for them to go to the gallery Kara knows Lena would have loved. 

Instead, they stay holed up in Lena’s office, and Kara orders in Big Belly Burger while she pulls up pictures of the art made by the trans street artist that the gallery was featuring. One of her old clients, though she doesn’t mention it to Lena.

But Lena sits beside her on the white couch, heels off, feet tucked under her, humming in appreciation as the two of them pore over the young artist’s work. They spend hours on the couch, talking and laughing, shoulders barely touching. The date ends with Lena enthusiastically purchasing many of the artist’s pieces, while Kara studies her with a small smile on her face.

The next date is no better. 

To avoid the paparazzi, Kara decides that they should stay in again. She painstakingly sets up a private dinner at the rooftop of L-Corp -- with the help of Jess, who has now been recruited into her operations -- complete with Lena’s favorite food, a trail of candles, and Lena’s favorite flowers. 

Unfortunately, the weather report that morning betrays Kara, and the skies suddenly open up in a heavy downpour, leaving her drenched like a drowned rat with nothing but doused candles and a water-logged meal.

Kara sulks, frustrated and disappointed, looking at the mess that was half a day’s efforts. The small bouquet of plumerias she had been planning to give Lena wilts, sodden in her hand. She’s a little startled when an umbrella suddenly appears over her head, and she turns to see Lena surveying the mess on her rooftop.

Instead of being annoyed, Lena smiles at the whole soaked wreckage, then at Kara, who sheepishly holds up the sodden white flowers and offers it to her with a defeated shrug. Lena takes it with a small laugh.

“Thank you.” Lena takes the flowers with one hand, the one holding the umbrella, and slips the other into Kara’s slippery hand. It makes Kara smile, and she lets Lena pull her back into the building.

In her office, Jess -- bless her, she would do wonders for Kara’s business if Kara could ever steal her away from Lena -- has laid out fluffy white towels and a blanket. Lena takes a towel and drapes it over Kara’s shoulders, rubbing lightly to dry her as much as she can.

Kara stays very still. She could insist that she can do it herself, but there’s something almost... entrancing about the way Lena bites her lip as she rubs Kara’s back and shoulders in wide, gentle circles.

When she reaches up to dry off Kara’s hair, Kara finds herself leaning forward. Lena studiously avoids her gaze for a moment, toweling off the ends of Kara’s hair. Kara’s hand gently encloses her wrist in a loose grip, giving Lena enough time to pull away if she wants to. Lena looks up, fragile, glass-green eyes finally meeting Kara’s mesmerized stare.

Lena’s hand stops moving, and Kara slips her hand from Lena’s wrist to her chin, fingers slowly tracing from her jaw to her neck until she can slip her fingers right under her head. Lena’s eyelashes flutter, and her pulse beats rapidly under Kara’s palm. She pulls Lena just a little bit closer, and she feels Lena’s breath stutter. 

“Kara, I...” Lena’s lips part to form words, and Kara’s gaze is immediately drawn to her mouth, full and red and tempting.

Before Kara can lean forward, Lena is pulling away. Kara feels disappointment crash over her like the downpour of rain on the rooftop, but she lets Lena go, lets her clear her throat and straighten herself. “I-I asked Jess to get you some dry clothes. You can change in the bathroom.”

Kara dutifully accepts the clothes, taking one last moment to study Lena, before closing the door behind her. When she’s done changing, she returns to find Lena on their couch, surrounded by food from Kara’s favorite Chinese restaurant. 

Lena looks up at her with wide eyes and an appreciative smile. “Well, you were right. You do look good in jeans and a t-shirt.”

Kara grins. Despite the earlier awkward moment, she thinks they’re okay. “You should see me in flannel.”

Their third date is at a dive bar. 

Not exactly common date fare for a multi-billionaire, but Kara thinks Lena will like the change. They’re soon joined by Kara’s friends, and Kara chuckles a little at Lena’s deer-in-the-headlights expression. She runs her hands up and down Lena’s arms to reassure her.

“Don’t worry, they’ll love you.”

She’s already drilled into her friends to be on their best behavior around Lena, but of course, her sister is the first to break that rule.

Alex smirks as she shakes Lena’s hand. “So... you’re the Lena I’ve been hearing so much about. Kara hasn’t shut up about you for weeks. Every sister night, it’s ‘Lena this’, ‘Lena that’, ‘Alex she’s just so pretty’, ‘Alex, she’s so smart, like you would not believe’, ‘God, Alex, I just wanna--- mmphff!”

Alex’s voice is muffled by Kara’s hand slapping over her mouth. “Sorry! This is my sister Alex, and she is going to be silent for the rest of the night, and -- Ew! Did you just lick my hand?? Gross!”

The rest of the night progresses smoothly. Lena manages to beat Kara soundly at pool (”It’s basic geometry”) -- and Kara’s definitely not gonna complain, because holy crap, the view she gets whenever Lena bends over to take a shot almost makes her pass out several times. Lena, however, loses spectacularly to Alex at darts (”Excuse you, I have great aim. I’ve just never played darts before.” ”Yeah, yeah, sure. Pay up, Miss CEO”). At one point, Kara hears her offering Kelly a position in her VR department, so it’s safe for Kara to assume that Lena’s having a good time.

The only tiny baby hiccup of the night is when Kara offers to get her another drink from the bar, and Lena’s eyes tighten a little before she refuses with a polite smile. Throughout the night, Lena carefully sticks to one glass of wine and no more.

When the group disperses for the night, Lena offers Kara a ride home. A few blocks in, Kara asks her the question niggling at the back of her mind.

“Why didn’t you drink anything tonight? I mean -- you don’t have to answer that, I-I was just curious. I know you have a bar in your office, and I’ve seen your collection of scotches that probably cost more than my yearly rent. But you barely touched your wine tonight.”

Lena is quiet at first, fiddling with her purse. Kara lays a soft, gentle hand on top of hers to still her nervous fingers. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything--”

“The last time I got drunk at a bar with a beautiful woman, it almost ended up ruining my life.”

The story slowly unfolds, and Lena shows Kara the tabloid pictures of her and Veronica. Kara merely sits and listens, even after Lena’s driver has parked the car in front of her apartment.

She’d known Veronica was bad news from their first and only meeting, but she hadn’t known how truly atrocious she was. Kara is acutely aware that there’s a high probability Lena was the woman Veronica had been talking about when they met. She finds herself vacillating between the need to tell Lena the truth, and the need to keep her own anonymity.

No one outside of her friends and clients knows what she does. And she had refused Veronica outright as a client. Exposing Kara’s part in this, however small and non-existential it was, would mean exposing herself as “Supergirl” to someone who’s not a client. 

Besides, telling Lena would only add another complication to an already complicated mess. Lena has moved on, she’s recovering from the fallout Veronica left on her life, and telling her this will only set her back, open wounds that are probably better off left alone to heal.

Kara takes Lena’s fluttering hands in a gentle grip. She meets Lena’s eyes with a warm, steadfast gaze. “ I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of this, Lena. That woman, she doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.”

Lena doesn’t speak, just looks at her with soft, heart-hurt eyes. Kara feels her chest constrict, robbing her of breath, and she knows that she would do anything to make sure this woman is never hurt again.

She doesn’t realize she’s spoken it out loud, breathed it into the space between them, until Lena drifts forward and presses their lips together. 

Kara’s mouth is still half-parted, and she tastes the wine from Lena’s mouth. She feels a tingling that starts from where their mouths are pressed together, soft lips meeting soft lips, spreading through the rest of her body.

It’s like being wired alive, and Kara’s hands move of their own accord, settling firm and greedy on Lena’s hips, urging her closer. Her fingers slide under Lena’s expensive top, finding warm skin there and making Lena gasp into her mouth. Kara shifts, and Lena shifts with her, hauling herself onto Kara’s lap. Her tongue sweeps over Kara’s lower lip, filling her mouth with the taste of wine and Lena, and Kara moans into the kiss.

Eventually, Kara knows they have to stop. They’ve been parked in front of her apartment for more than half an hour with the engine running. She won’t be able to look Lena’s driver in the eye for a few weeks. Her nosy old neighbor is likely peering at them through the curtains, and who knows if there are any reporters following Lena. Despite every cell in her body protesting, she pulls away from Lena slowly, trying to catch her breath.

Lena doesn’t look like she’s faring much better. She rests her forehead against Kara’s and her possessive grip on the collar of Kara’s button-down pulls her forward. Her eyes are closed, her breathing heavy, and her lipstick is smeared in the most delicious way that almost makes Kara kiss her again.

When Lena’s eyes open, Kara can see the crystal green of them. Her heart squeezes at the brilliance and tenderness of Lena’s eyes and oh, Kara’s in trouble. Lena’s fingertips gently stroke Kara’s cheek. “You’re amazing, Kara Danvers.”

Lena lets her go, and Kara somehow manages to stumble out of the car. She stands on the sidewalk in front of her apartment building, waves like an idiot with a silly grin on her face, as Lena’s smiling face disappears from her view.

Well, shit. She’s fucked.

[oneweekoneband]

In the first cold hours of a new December morning, Taylor Swift once again revealed herself to be the primary antagonist in my hero’s journey. Weary and woebegone as I am, I will not waste strength on any attempt to deny that this latest attack has knocked me off balance, but I believe it is important that I—we, really, the lot of us who have been bloodied pitiably beneath this most brutal show of force—rebound immediately into a defensive posture so that there might be any hope at all for survival. Taylor’s second pandemic album will be released at midnight tonight, so I guess Shakespeare and his little “play” about elder abuse can get fucked after all. The album is called evermore. It was hubris, I can see in retrospect, which led me to tempt my enemy by writing all these words about her on this, the week of her birthday, knowing as I do that Taylor is one of those especially dangerous adults who make a big deal about both birthdays and lucky numbers. Icarus is my name now, covered in melted wax and tumbling to the sea. So as to steel ourselves for these horrors yet to come, I offer now, with not arrogance but the faith of the foolhardy, my best conjecture as to the content of each detestable track. 

willow - Could be about a tree. Could be about a girl. More likely it is both somehow, which is extremely pervy, and not just because that’s part of the plot of the unspeakably cursed The Raven Cycle novels, which I, a full blown adult with, generally speaking, normal brain function, voluntarily read for the first time this summer because some of us, ma’am, used the pandemic for activities that hurt only ourselves, not others. Well, happy holidays, tree fuckers.

champagne problems - Whatever this is, know that I will be considering it a work after Fall Out Boy’s “Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends” and I’ll be right to do so and many people will say as much admiringly and they’ll smile at me with pride and doff their caps as I go.

gold rush - If this song is anything but a loving, comprehensive summation of the children’s novel DEAR AMERICA Seeds of Hope: The Gold Rush Diary of Susanna Fairchild then I’m going to walk directly out of my home and, deadly virus be damned, keep walking until I’ve entered Taylor Swift’s instead, at which point I will begin to scream out a litany of complaints at the very top of my voice, ceasing only when her security team kills me or we fall in love.

tis the damn season - Worst case scenario this is a sad Christmas song (the best kind of Christmas song) and it devastates me in the most degrading way possible. Best case scenario it’s really bad and dumb and I can live without pain.

tolerate it - Many possibilities here. Could be about white-knuckling it through a period of depression, or a breakup. Most obviously, it could be about COVID-19 lockdowns keeping us trapped in our homes, disconnected from loved ones, going slow-brained and strange, bowls piling up, and suddenly so desperate for human interaction that even memories of having drinks with somebody from Hinge who quoted Friends twice in an hour are tantalizing in comparison to the touch-starved dreamstate of staying indoors... But I kinda feel like this is Taylor replying “COPE” from on high to my tweets about how I would rather be boiled alive than have to face the existence of this record.

no body, no crime (feat. Haim) - What would be very good is if this is a homosexual romp about Taylor Swift and the one hot Haim guitar girl with the really gay energy doing a murder together a la “Somethin’ Bad” by Miranda Lambert with Carrie Underwood, but honestly, it is probably another song about Gone Girl.

happiness - Impossible to speak on this since, thanks to Taylor Swift, happiness is something with which I have no familiarity. 

dorothea - Have seen chirping on the odious bird application about how perhaps this song title suggests that Taylor has written a song about Middlemarch, titling it for Dorothea Brooke, but I reject this because it implies that Taylor has read Middlemarch, which is a premise I cannot accept. Whether this refusal is out of self-preservation, being unwilling and in fact unable to face a world where Taylor Swift read and was moved to creation by the novel which was my most essential friend the summer I got dumped by a guy who I still had to work feet away from in a candle factory for another month, and about which Emily Dickinson (Emily Dickinson whose birthday it happens to be today, which isn’t to say that this means anything about anything. I am simply trying to batten down all hatches literally and spiritually in light of having been had once again by this numerology obsessed demon) once wrote "What do I think of Middlemarch? What do I think of glory.” or because I just at my core do not believe that Taylor has read a single book since Gone Girl I couldn’t possibly say.

coney island (feat. The National) : Some ungodly americana ass bullshit that is going to ruin my life. The thought of holy terror shaped like a horse girl Taylor Swift and trickster nymph in the body of a tax accountant Matt Berninger, two individuals I have allowed, separately, to cause me grievous psychic harm, having even the barest amount of one to one contact, even digitally, has made me want to peel all my skin off and put it back on flipped inside out so that I might, when I look in the mirror, see a version of myself which approximates how I feel.

ivy - Another song for the plant lesbians. That’s fine, and I’m happy for that community, but what I want to know, looking at this growing pile of songs named after women, is where, Taylor, is the song about loudmouth queen Inez, legendary gossip and, for my money, the star of folklore?  

cowboy like me - Putting it as mildly as humanly possible, to slit my throat would be less cruel. I am drawing a straight line from me writing illegible sequels to perfect film An American Tail: Fievel Goes West (itself a sequel) in crayon as a toddler, to Paula Cole’s “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” on the radio in my mom’s two door Honda, to me everyday after school in third grade changing into the cowboy costume my godmother bought, to me at fourteen internalizing a sense of righteous indignation that would take years to even begin to outgrow when Crash beat Brokeback Mountain for Best Picture, to the winter I dropped half my classes out of fear and sickness and read paperback westerns on the twenty third floor of the college library for tens of hours at a go, to the profoundly gay episode of Supernatural called “Tombstone” which is, yes, named for the profoundly gay cowboy film Tombstone, to the inspired and revitalizing pause in “Space Cowboy” by Kacey Musgraves where she’s like, “You can have your space........ cowboy”, to Mitski’s Be the Cowboy, to the perfect boygenius cover of certified classic “Cowboy Take Me Away”, to whatever the hell this is going to be.That line is not to make a point at all. It’s just that there is a line and beside it there is me, incapacitated.

long story short - Just like all the other times anyone has ever invoked this phrase in the entire history of human beings expressing themselves with language, it is going to be a huge lie, because this woman never shuts up.

marjorie - After all that Taylor has put me through over the years, she should have at least named one of these wretched things “ellen” after my dead Sagittarian grandmother, whose birthday is tomorrow, December 11th, which is again, the release date of Taylor Swift’s second album in sixth months, but it’s probably for the best that she didn’t because you simpletons would immediately think it was an homage to George Bush’s friend Dory the fish, and therefore gay, regardless of the actual text of the song, and it’d be the “betty” massacre all over again. That being said, this is almost assuredly another horny song about some mid-century white lady. Only days ago Taylor was telling Entertainment Weekly that she’s been watching a lot of movies in quarantine, and while she didn’t name 1958’s Marjorie Morningstar starring Natalie Wood, I wouldn’t put it past her.

closure - God, I hope this one is another Kaylor classic so we can all act like complete raving lunatics online from the confines of our own plague quarters for a few days. It’s been a hard year.

evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - I’ll be catatonic by this point. Who cares?

right where you left me - Yes, in hell.

it’s time to go - Yes, TO HELL.

[dickspeightjrs]

Show Me How Big Your Brave Is (au / 4.8k words)

Prompt 17 from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ for @eccentriccas 

ao3 link

It stared at Dean from the fridge, tacked up by a Stanford University magnet gifted to Dean by his brother, Sam. 

He’d known his high school reunion was coming up at some point but seeing it embossed in gold lettering created a pit in his stomach. 

High school wasn’t the best time for Dean for a few reasons. First, his dad had died in freshman year, which Dean had had mixed feelings about if he was honest. He was mostly concerned about his mother. She didn’t take it well. And then there was-

Dean was torn from his stare down with the invitation by the door bell. He trudged over to answer it.  His best friend, Charlie, came bounding in with all the energy of a labrador puppy. 

“Hey, friend!” She exclaimed, pulling Dean into a tight hug. “Are you ready for our movie night?” 

Dean let himself be infected with Charlie’s excited energy. “Of course, dude! Give me superheroes in spandex already.” He laughed. 

“You go set up the first movie and I’ll put the beers in the fridge, okay?” Charlie instructed. 

“Sounds good, Bradbury.”

Dean lucked out when he’d met Charlie. They’d been assigned as roommates in college. There had been a mix up with the room allocations. Dean had been a little confused when he’d turned from his boxes to find a tiny red-head standing in the doorway of his dorm. 

Charlie had taken a step into the room, let her backpack fall to the floor, and said, “Don’t even think about trying anything. I’m gay as the day is long and I’m not afraid to punch a guy back into his place.” Dean hadn’t known how to reply so he’d just nodded and silently gone back to unpacking his things. 

It was when Charlie had put up a Star Wars poster above her bed that Dean knew he was about to make a best friend. 

“Ooh what’s this?” Charlie’s voice came from the kitchen.

Crap. Charlie had probably found the invite. He should have hidden it when he had the chance. He sighed and moved into the kitchen. 

Charlie had an extremely mischievous grin on her face, and that was saying something for her. 

“When were you going to tell me about this?” Charlie asked. 

“Urm, never?” Dean mumbled, reaching to snatch the paper out of Charlie’s hand. 

But Charlie was too quick and dodged Dean’s grasp. 

“Come on Dean. You have to go!” Charlie implored. “It’ll be fun!”

Dean gave his friend an unimpressed look. “Charlie you know how much I hated high school.”

Charlie’s face softened. “I know, it sucks that you got outed before you were ready. No one deserves that. But, it’s been ten years. Things have changed.”

“You don’t know the people I went to high school with.” Dean scoffed. 

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Stop being dramatic, you nerd.”

“Dramatic or not, I ain’t going.” Dean plucked the invite out of Charlie’s hand and tore it in two. 

Charlie stuck her tongue out at him. “Party pooper.”

*  *  *

A few hours later, Dean and Charlie were deep into their annual ‘NerdFest’ movie night. 

“I swear, if I didn’t bat for the best team, I’d be so down for a bit of Black Wing.” Charlie mumbled around a mouth full of popcorn. 

Dean couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Aside from Captain America (because, hello Chris Evans!), Black Wing was Dean’s favourite superhero. But he’d only appeared in ensemble movies. There had been rumours of him getting his own solo movie after fans online had campaigned for it but nothing ever seemed to come of it. The guy who played him seemed to just drop off the map. 

Shame, Dean thought as he watched Black Wing kick ass on-screen, that dude was hot! 

“Take someone like that to your high school reunion and it would make those dicks’ jaws drop.” 

“Drop it, Charlie.” Dean groaned, glaring at the red-head. 

“Just saying. Get a hot date and you’ll win the game of life in their eyes.” Charlie raised her hands in defence. 

“Noted. Let’s move on.” 

“Fine.” Charlie pouted. 

Dean nodded and turned back to watch the screen, content that the subject had been dropped. 

“OH MY GOD!”

Dean jumped out of his skin, sending popcorn flying through the air. “What the hell, Bradbury?” He exclaimed. 

Charlie started excitedly slapping Dean on the arm. “I have the best idea.” She practically squealed. “Put an ad up on Craigslist for a hot date.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “No fucking way. Never happening. Now stop.”

“But-”

“No!”

Charlie sulked for the next half an hour, all through the iconic fight scene with Black Wing and his fellow team of superheroes. She stopped eventually after Dean offered her a piece of pie as a peace offering. 

*  *  *

After a couple more movies, Charlie had to leave. Apparently, being an adult meant that you can’t just spend all night watching with your best friend anymore - who knew? So with a ‘see ya later bitch’, Charlie was gone. 

Dean felt the aches from being sat on the couch for hours and he was looking forward to laying out on his bed for a good night’s sleep. 

He sighed to himself and tidied up the last remains of the movie snacks. He was ready for sleep but he had to work early in the morning and he wouldn’t have time to clean up before he left. 

Shuffling into the kitchen to put the rubbish in the trash, Dean spotted his reunion invite where he left it on the counter. Except, it wasn’t ripped in two like he’d left it. It had ‘mysteriously’ been taped back together. He dragged a tired hand down his face in exasperation. Charlie just didn’t know when to quit. She was the bratty little sister he never wanted. 

He plonked himself down on the chair at the counter and stared at the white paper for a few moments. 

Fuck it! 

Charlie was right (though he’d never admit it to her face). He was determined to prove to the assholes he went to school with that the shit they threw at him didn’t stick. It didn’t matter that Dean didn’t really believe it to be the truth,’ fake it til ya make it’ as they say. 

Before he could chicken out, Dean had Craigslist opened up on his phone. Thinking back to Charlie’s suggestion earlier, Dean decided against asking specifically for a ‘hot’ guy. He dreaded to think what kind of douchebags that would answer the ad proclaiming themselves to be an adonis. 

And, despite knowing since he was young that he was bisexual, he decided to aim the ad towards guys. His few relationships with women had never worked out. Even though this was all going to be fake, Dean would like to be able to at least get on with the person. 

In the end, he decided on a short and simple ad:

‘Hi, I’m Dean (28M) looking for a guy to take as my date to my stupid high school reunion next Saturday. Message if interested (no weirdos)’

He posted the ad and then spotted the time at the top of the screen. 

Midnight. Shit. 

He closed the website and dashed upstairs as fast as his tired legs could carry him. 

*  *  * 

The next morning, Dean got woken up by the feel of sunlight shining on his face. He must have forgotten to shut the curtains before he passed out last night. 

His blood ran cold when he realised that the sun shining on his face meant only one thing. He was late for work. He scrambled around looking for his phone to check the time but it was nowhere to be found. 

Suddenly, it came to him. He must have left his phone on the counter in the kitchen, meaning he didn’t hear his alarms going off. 

He cursed himself and sped to get ready. Quickly sniffing a shirt to check it was okay to wear, he got dressed and raced downstairs. Sure enough, his phone was sat on the table where he'd sat the night before. 

When he picked it up he found that it had also run out of battery overnight. 

Great. As if this day couldn’t get any worse. 

Forgetting all else on his mind, Dean grabbed his phone and dash out of the front door. 

*  *  *

The ad remained forgotten until a few days later. 

Dean was just about to sit down and relax with a beer when his phone lit up with a notification. He put his beer down on a coaster to check it out. 

It was a message from Craigslist telling him someone has been trying to contact him about his ad. 

Dean’s eyes went wide. He’d completely forgotten about the ad for a date after being late for work and being chewed out by his boss. He couldn't believe someone had actually responded. He looked at the date for the first message. This guy had contacted him like an hour after he’d posted the ad. 

He opened the message. 

(01:28) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: Hello. I saw your ad for a date to your reunion. It says I’m only 10 miles from your location. I’m interested in helping you out. Are you still in need of assistance?

(10:11) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I assume, as you haven’t replied, that you’ve decided to go with someone else for your date. 

(11:20) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: On second thought, this ad was probably a joke. Please ignore my messages. 

Wow. This dude talked funny. And reading that last message, Dean felt a little sorry for the guy too. He seemed lonely. But beggars can’t be choosers, so Dean prepared to reply. 

As he went to type, he noticed the guy’s username and smiled to himself. 

(19:37) impala67 says: don’t worry dude! the position as my date is still open. you’re the only one who has responded. 

PS. I like your username. you a Black Wing fan too? 

The reply was almost immediate.

(19:41) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: Okay. What information do you need from me?

PS. You could say so. 

‘You could say so’? Was this guy purposefully trying to be mysterious? Either way, Dean was intrigued. 

(19:45) impala67 says: idk dude, just the basics I guess. how old u are, what u look like

(19:53) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I’m 30 years old. I have blue eyes and dark hair. I’m 6 feet tall. Anything else?

Dean hummed to himself. The guy sounded pretty average, which was okay with him.

(19:55) impala67 says: nah, that’s awesome dude. anything you want to know? 

(19:58) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I suppose it would be nice to know what you look like too. Also, if you don’t mind me prying, I wondered why you need to have a date for a school reunion. And why have you turned to Craigslist to find it?

Dean was set aback by this guy’s forwardness. But, he did have a right to know what he was getting into Dean supposed. 

(20:05) impala67 says: you already know I’m 28. I have green eyes. sort of light brown hair and i’m around 6’2”. as for the other shit. high school was a shit show. I’ve always been a bit nerdy i guess. people didn’t like it. then I realised I’m bi (hope that’s not a deal break btw). tried asking this guy out senior year. got outed to the whole school. got a lot of shit for it. 

(20:11) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: I’m sorry to hear that happened to you. No one deserves that. Why do you want to go back? No one would blame you for leaving and never going back. (Again, if you don’t mind me asking.)

Dean blinked at the screen. His forgotten beer was getting warm but he was fascinated by this guy. He seemed genuine and Dean felt himself wanting to share the darkest parts of himself with a complete stranger. He sighed and typed. 

(20:20) impala67 says: I guess I want to prove to those assholes that the things they said didn’t affect my life. even tho that’s not always the truth. I still struggle to accept myself i guess.

Dean chewed his lip, debating whether to include that last line or not. But, hey, he was asking this dude to be his date, the least he could do was be honest with him. He pressed send. 

Blue Eyes didn’t reply instantly this time and it made Dean nervous. He wished he could take back the last bit of the message. 

After a few anxious moments, Blue Eyes still hadn’t replied so Dean gave up, figuring he’d scared the guy away. He cursed himself and moved to put his Doctor Sexy DVDs into the player. He’d never admit it to anyone, not even Charlie, but Doctor Sexy was his comfort show. It provided him with a much needed distraction. 

A couple hours later, Dean was beginning to doze. The extra few beers he’d had cushioned him into a deep sleep. 

When he woke, surrounded by darkness with only the DVD menu playing to no one lighting the room, Dean rubbed his face tiredly and went to check his phone for the time. 

Instead of looking at the clock, Dean’s eyes were distracted by the Craigslist notification. Blue Eyes had messaged him back! Feeling a little foolish that he’d reacted too quickly before, Dean opened the message.

(23:23) BlueEyesAndBlackWings says: You’re incredibly brave, Dean. Not many people would be able to do what you’re doing. 

Dean blushed in the darkness. Why were a random internet dude’s words affecting him so much? He didn’t really know what to say in response so he just sent a quick ‘thank you, dude.’

*  *  * 

Over the next few days leading up to the reunion, Dean carried on messaging Blue Eyes just to get to know him a little more. Turns out the dude is dorky as hell. And, despite the original impression he gave with the Black Wing username, the guy didn’t understand any of Dean’s other references. 

It had occurred to him after they’d been messaging for a while that Dean still didn’t know his name. 

When he confronted Blue Eyes about it, the man had taken a while to respond again and answered only with ‘I’d rather not disclose my full name at this time. But, you can call me C.’

Dean had been a little skeptical of the guy’s response at first. But then, he figured the worst case scenario was the guy turned out to be a catfish and Dean would just blow off the reunion altogether and go get drunk. And he couldn’t blame the guy for not wanting to give out personal details over Craigslist. 

The day before the reunion, they agreed it was probably best to meet somewhere a couple hours before so they had time to get to know each other in person and iron out the final details they’d need to know about each other. 

*  *  * 

Dean sat in the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at (public and easy to escape if things went south). He tried to stop his leg from trembling under the table. 

He was nervous for a couple of reasons. The obvious: this guy could turn out to be a creepy old dude stalking men on the internet. And the less obvious but more surprising to Dean: he actually wanted this to go well. Without even knowing what he looked like, Dean had found himself beginning to like the guy. Even if he wasn’t attracted to him when he finally saw Blue Eyes, Dean would be cool with being friends with him. 

His eyes were following the patterns in the wood on the table top when a deep voice came from above him. 

“Dean?” It asked, with nervous uncertainty. 

Dean swallowed and looked up to the source of the voice and- 

Holy shit! 

It was him! It was the Black Wing!

What was the guy’s name? Cas- something? Castile? Casteel? Castiel! That was it!

Holy fucking shit! This couldn’t be happening. 

Dean realised he’d been staring wide-eyed during his internal freak out and Blue Eyes, Castiel, was stood looking as nervous as Dean had felt before the surprise adrenaline took over his body. 

“Sorry, dude. Please sit down.” Dean gestured to the chair opposite him. He wiped his hands on his jeans, nerves starting to take over once again. 

Neither man spoke for a few moments. 

“So I-” Castiel began.

“I don’t-” Dean spoke too. 

Both men chuckled. “You go,” Dean told Castiel. 

Castiel smiled softly, “I suppose, from your reaction, you know who I am.”

Dean blushed. “Yeah. For what it’s worth, I’m a big fan.” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 

Now Castiel blushed, “Thank you, Dean.” His expression turned serious. “I hope you understand now why I didn’t give you my full name while we spoke online.”

“Yeah, of course, dude. Don’t want any crazies hunting you down.” Dean chuckled. 

Castiel chuckled with him. “Yes, something like that.”

“So, um, before we get into the details for later, I was wondering if I could ask you a question?”

“Of course, Dean. You were honest with me, it’s only fair I return the favour.” Castiel smiled. 

“It’s only because I watched one of your movies the other night with my best friend, Charlie-” who was totally gonna freak out when Dean told her about this “-but wasn’t there meant to be a solo Black Wing movie? Everyone in the fandom was talking about it and then suddenly you seemed to disappear. I guess, I’m just wondering why you changed your mind?” Dean asked, nervously. He was waiting for Castiel to tell him to go fuck himself (though Dean knew that Castiel wasn’t really that kinda guy). 

Castiel cleared his throat and met Dean’s eyes. “We were just about to go into production for the solo movie when my brother and his wife were killed in a head-on collision with a truck.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open. But, he could sense Castiel hadn’t finished so he stayed quiet. 

“The only blessing was that it was instant, so they didn’t suffer. That, and luckily their daughter, Claire, was at the babysitter’s at the time.” Castiel smiled, melancholy whispers gracing his features. 

Dean knew he barely knew the guy but he could sense when someone needed comfort so he reached across the table to place a soft touch on Castiel’s hand. 

“I took Claire into my care. And that ended my career as I knew it.” Castiel shrugged. “I was deeply disappointed to have to leave the movie, but Claire came first. And I didn’t want her to grow up in the spotlight, with people using her parents’ tragic death as a way to sell magazines. So I left the industry. That was three years ago and I haven’t looked back. Claire is five now and she’s all I could ever want.” 

Dean was awestruck. “Wow.” He breathed. “I can’t believe it.”

“What?” Castiel asked, head tilting in confusion. (If the situation wasn’t so serious, Dean would have struggled not to comment on how adorable he looked.) 

“Dude.” Dean choked. “You called me brave for wanting to face a coupla high school assholes. But you - you gave up your entire career to give the best life to your niece.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing.” 

Castiel blushed again (and Dean found he was slowly falling in love with that look on Castiel’s face). “I don’t know that I’m amazing, I just want a normal life for Claire and I.” He shrugged. 

“A normal life, huh?” Dean asked. “Well, I can try and help with that.” He lifted his hand from where it had been placed on Castiel’s and held it in the air between them. “I’m Dean Winchester. I’m twenty eight. A bit of a nerd and in need of a date this evening.”

Castiel huffed a laugh and placed his hand in Dean’s, shaking it. “I’m Castiel Novak. I’m thirty. Uncle to a beautiful niece and I would be honoured if you’d let me be your date for this evening.” 

Dean’s face broke into a smile, which turned into a laugh that caused a smile to spread across Castiel’s cheeks. 

They let their hands settle naturally on top of the table. 

Now, with their barriers down, they began making plans and ideas for that evening. Though, if Dean were being honest, it felt like he’d known Castiel forever already. 

Eventually, after what felt like hours of talking, Castiel got up to finally get himself a coffee. It wasn’t until Castiel’s hand left his that Dean realised they’d been holding onto each other the whole time. 

*  *  *

Dean and Castiel ended up talking for so long in that coffee shop that they were late for the reunion. The party was in full swing when they arrived. 

Just before they entered the hall, Dean stopped in his tracks. 

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Castiel asked, worry etched into his features. 

“Are you sure about this, man? There’s a chance someone in there could recognise you or something. It’s not worth ruining your life plan over just for me to say ‘fuck you’ to a couple of dicks.” Dean stressed. 

Castiel reached to take Dean’s hand in his. “Some things are worth a little risk.” He whispered and walked with Dean through the hall doors. 

It seemed Dean had had nothing to worry about in the end. They’d spoken to a few people who had seemed genuinely interested in that Dean had been up to since graduation. And they barely batted an eye when he’d introduced Castiel as his boyfriend. (He’d meant to just call him his date but clearly his mouth had had other ideas.) Castiel himself had just placed a soft hand around Dean’s waist - stopping Dean from an internal panic. 

It was all going so well and Dean was starting to think Charlie had been right (again, damn her!). Maybe everyone had just grown up and moved on. 

Once they’d finished a conversation with the guy Dean sat next to in English class senior year, Castiel went to the bar to get them some drinks, whispering in Dean’s ear that he’d be back in a moment. Dean was a little sad Castiel hadn’t gone a bit further and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester.” The voice of Bela Talbot came from behind him. Dean turned with a scowl on his face. 

“Hello, Bela.” He said through gritted teeth. She’d been one of the main people instrumental in his forced coming out. 

“Goodness me, Dean. If I’d known how pretty you’d turn out, maybe high school could have gone a lot differently.” She practically purred, running a perfectly manicured finger along Dean’s cheek bone. “But, hey, there’s still time now, I could be the one to knock you straight again.”

Dean was frozen to the spot. He was back to being a scared kid, dealing with the loss of a parent and being taunted daily for his sexuality. He knew he shouldn’t have done this. He wasn’t brave. He was pathetic. He couldn’t even stand up to a school bully ten years later.

“Excuse me.” Castiel appeared suddenly at Dean’s side. “What did you say to him?” The look on his face was nothing short of murderous. 

“I’m just getting reacquainted with an old friend.” Bela answered, sickly sweet. “And who are you?”

Castiel’s eyes narrowed. “I’m Dean’s boyfriend and I don’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to him.” 

Dean’s eyes went wide. Earlier it had been a slip when he’d called Castiel his boyfriend but now Castiel was purposefully saying it? Dean didn’t dare to hope. 

Bela laughed, causing Castiel to glare even harder (honestly, if looks could kill, she’d be in hell). “Ah! So he’s definitely still gay then.” She said, lip curling with distaste. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but he’s bisexual, not gay. I’d tell you to educate yourself, but clearly, after ten years you’re still the same bitch you’ll always be.” 

Bela looked taken aback, like no one had ever spoken to her like that before. 

Castiel didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he grabbed Dean’s hand and stormed out of the building.

It wasn’t until the cool evening air hit his face, that Dean finally snapped back to himself. They’d ended up in the parking lot, stood next to Dean’s car. 

“Cas..” Dean breathed.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel said, begging for forgiveness. “I just couldn’t stand the way she was speaking to you.” 

“Cas-” Dean spoke. 

“She was just so rude a-and small-minded. I hated it.” 

“Cas!” Dean raised his voice. Castiel snapped his jaw shut. “It’s okay. Thank you for sticking up for me.” Dean stepped closer to Castiel, playing with the lapel on Castiel’s suit jacket. 

Castiel looked into Dean’s eyes but Dean couldn’t hold his gaze. “I’m just embarrassed that I froze up. After all of this, I failed at standing up for myself. I’m pathetic.” 

Castiel placed his hands on Dean’s cheeks, forcing Dean to look at him. Green eyes finally met blue. “Dean, listen to me. It was incredibly brave to walk into that room tonight. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met.” He said earnestly. 

Dean couldn’t hold it in anymore. He hoped he wasn’t about to ruin this before it even started. But, as a wise man told him recently: some things are worth a little risk.

Wasting no more time, Dean pulled Castiel into a deep kiss. 

Once Castiel was on board, he pushed Dean up against the car behind them. 

After a few heated moments, of what can only be described as heavy making out, Dean growled at Castiel to get into the car before they got arrested for public indecency. 

They somehow made it back to Dean’s house but their clothes only managed to stay on long enough to get through the front door. Dean directed them to his room and threw Castiel down on the bed. 

He took in the sight of the beautiful man laid out under him before kissing up Castiel’s chest and took over his mouth again. The only words said between them were muttered assurances that they were on the same page. Dean could never have dreamed this is how this night would end but he certainly wouldn’t change a thing. 

*  *  *

The next morning, Dean and Castiel laid in each other’s arms, content to be together in the quiet. 

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Dean. “What about your niece?” He worried. “Don’t you need to get back to her?” He sat up frantically. 

“Dean, Dean, don’t worry.” Castiel raised his hands to calm the other man. “I texted my babysitter yesterday at the coffee shop asking her to stay with Claire for the night.” 

Dean relaxed into the bed, smirking a little. “So you knew how the night would end even before we got to the reunion.” 

Castiel blushed. “I wouldn’t say I knew. But I did hope.”

Dean smiled, pulling Castiel closer to place a tender kiss on the side of his head. “I hoped for it too.” He whispered. 

They settled into silence again, warm in each other’s company. 

A short while passed before either of them spoke again. 

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel murmured, breaking the quiet. 

“For what?” Dean frowned. 

“For thinking of Claire.” 

“Well, she’s important to you. She’s your whole world.” Dean shrugged. 

“Maybe my world could get a little bigger now.” Castiel suggested, smiling nervously up at Dean.”

“Yeah, I think it could.”

*  *  *

Later, as they dug into a couple of burgers Dean threw together, another thought crossed Dean’s mind. 

“Cas?”

“Hmm?” Castiel hummed around the burger in his mouth.

“Why were you looking through Craigslist ads in the first place?”

Castiel swallowed and chuckled to himself. “Sometimes I look through to find funny ads people put up.”

Dean was beginning to get a little offended when Castiel reached across the table to hold his hand. 

“But, the night that I saw your ad, I had just put Claire to bed and I was feeling lonely. I took a risk. And I think it worked.” Castiel smiled shyly. 

“Hell yeah, it did!” Dean grinned from ear to ear. 

*  *  *

Charlie’s phone vibrated next to her. She paused the video game she was playing to pick it up. Seeing it was a text from Dean, she opened it immediately. 

On her screen was a selfie of Dean with another dark haired dude captioned:

‘I should take your advice more often Bradbury.’

Her eyes turned to saucers and she looked at the image again more closely. She frowned slightly, looking at the man whose cheek Dean was kissing. 

Wait- That totally looked like-

Her phone dinged with a new message from Dean. 

‘And yes, it’s exactly who you think it is.’

HOLY FRIGGIN SHIT! 

-

A/N: Hope you enjoyed it Taylor! 

If you liked what you saw, REBLOG! and consider reserving a prompt from my ‘30 Destiel Prompts’ challenge, or just send me your own prompt you’d like me to fill!

-

TAGS: @eccentriccas @starrynightdeancas @credentiast @imbiowaresbitch @starclaire @cockleslovesdestiel @bend-me-shape-me @destielfactory @dea-stiel @wendeano @wingsandimpalas @aggressivedean @flowersforcas @chill-legilimens @pancakesofthelord @saltnhalo @caslikescoffeeandfreckles @assbuttboyfriends @jhoomwrites @breathingdestiel @simplymisha @thekingslover @aelysianmuse

(once again tagging my faves, let me you if you’d like to be removed from future fics - or added if you’re not already there!)

[ear-monstrosities]

the silence isn’t so bad ‘til I look at my hands and feel sad, ‘cause the spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly (1/1)

Summary: ”I will never stop loving you Chloe. Not now, not ever. No matter where I am, I will be there with you through thick and thin. I will never truly leave you.”

Word Count: 5,336

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Major Character Death(s)

A/N: Title from Vanilla Twilight -Owl City I do not own the characters or anything associated with Pitch Perfect (except Jacob and BJ)

Read here or on AO3

* * * * *    

Chloe dragged her feet through the door and plopped down on the couch. Work had really taken a toll on her today. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her nice, comfy bed and take a 24-hour nap. She knew she couldn’t, though, as she had a family to feed. After several episodes of Meet the Frasers, Chloe glanced at the clock. Beca and Jake should be home by now, they should have been home at least a half-hour ago. Chloe started to get up from the couch when her phone rang.

”Hello?” Chloe hesitantly answered the phone.

”Is this Mrs. Beale-Mitchell?” The man’s gravelly voice came through the speaker.

”Yes, this is she” Chloe’s response showed the worry in her voice.

”Beca Beale-Mitchell and Jacob Beale-Mitchell have been in an accident. Beca is in critical condition.“ The man replied, and Chloe’s face went white. The rest of the conversation was a jumble of words as she grabbed her keys and ran out the door. She slung open the door to her car in a panicked frenzy and sat down in the driver's seat. Not ten seconds went by and she was already screaming down and out of the driveway. She knew she shouldn’t be putting herself in danger just to get there, but she couldn’t stand the thought of her wife and son being hurt.

Chloe pulled up to the hospital and got out of her car hastily. When she got to the front desk, she gave her name and who she was there for, before swiftly walking to see them.

”How bad is it?” Chloe frantically asked the doctor. There was fear in her eyes as a lonesome tear ran down her cheek.

”She’s coming in and out of consciousness and is in critical condition. There’s not much more we can do for her. As for Jacob, he’s stable. He’ll make it out.” The doctor replied with sympathy in his eyes. Chloe opened her mouth to speak but the doctor cut her off.

”You might want to go speak to her. There’s no telling how long she has left. We don’t think she’ll make it through the night” Chloe let out a sob as the tears came streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t attempt to dry them as she walked towards Beca.

”Chloe? Baby, is that you?” Beca said in a raspy voice as her eyes fluttered open. Chloe smiled at the younger woman.

”It’s me Becs. I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you. Never.” Chloe said with determination.

”I think I’ll be the one leaving, Chlo.” Chloe tried to protest but Beca stopped her. “I need you to stay strong for me, honey. I might not make it out of this hospital, so that means you need to keep going. Find someone that will take care of you and love you when I’m gone. Take care of our kids.”

Beca placed a battered hand on Chloe’s ever-growing abdomen. She was 6 months pregnant with their baby girl. They used Beca’s eggs, so there would be a mini Beca for her to have running around the house.

”I will never stop loving you, Chloe. Not now, not ever. No matter where I am, I will be there with you through thick and thin. I will never truly leave you.” Beca was crying at this point.

”I love you too, Beca, but you’re gonna be okay.” Chloe replied, but Beca just shook her head.

”I really don’t think I will. It’s just my time to go.” Beca’s voice cracked and she looked away. “But I don’t wanna spend the last day of my life alone. I wanna be here, with you. Will you stay here with me?”

”Of course, Becs” Chloe eased into the side of Beca’s bed and slowly snuggled her head into her side, being careful not to hit a cord or hurt her. About an hour went by with doctors coming in and out of the room. Chloe never stopped crying, and Beca stroked Chloe’s head while she was conscious.

”Thank you, Chloe. Thank you for this wonderful life you’ve given me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I love my girls-“ Beca caressed Chloe’s abdomen “-and my baby boy who is not such a baby anymore”

The beeping on the monitor gradually slowed down

“I love you, Chloe. So much. Never forget that.” Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand as her eyes fluttered shut and her breath spilled out of her lungs with a small groan. Chloe sobbed loudly and called the doctor in. The doctor placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as she left the room and went to go see her son. She walked into the room and was met with a pair of puffy eyes.

”She’s gone, isn’t she?” The 9 year old boy asked with a shake to his voice. Chloe didn’t say anything as she walked over and held the boy in her arms.

”I made her late Mom. I made her late and now my Mama’s gone” The young boy sobbed into his mother’s shirt.

”It’s not your fault, Jakey. No one could’ve known.” Chloe gently said to Jacob.

”No, no, if I wouldn’t have asked to meet Halsey, she wouldn’t have been there. We would’ve already been home and we would both be safe” Jacob sobbed.

”It is not your fault, you hear me?” Jacob slowly nodded and went back to crying.

”Let it out. Don’t be afraid, just let it out” Chloe whispered to the boy as both of them let their emotions take over them.

”We’ll never be without her. We’ll never forget her. She’s a part of us.” Chloe spoke between sobs.

”She's never truly gone, she's only gone once we forget her. I won’t let that happen.”

-

”C’mon Chlo, you got this. Push!” Aubrey was by Chloe’s side through the entire labor. She didn’t leave once. She might not be Beca, but Aubrey’s husband died a year before Beca did, so they stick together.

”One more push, she’s almost here,” Aubrey said barely loud enough for Chloe to hear. The screaming cries of a newborn baby filled the room. A beautiful baby girl with a head full of brown hair was placed into Chloe’s arms.

”She’s beautiful, Bree” Chloe whispered and started crying.

”What’re you gonna name her?” Aubrey asked while smiling at the bundle of joy in Chloe’s arms.

”Beca Jaymes Beale-Mitchell.” Chloe confidently stated, leaving Aubrey gaping for a few seconds

”J-Jaymes?” Aubrey stuttered as she ran the name over in her mind again. That was the name of her late husband.

”Yes, Bree. I named her after him, too. You both helped me through so much, and I wanted to honor him in a way.” Chloe explained with a huge grin on her face.

”I love you, Chloe.” Aubrey sobbed and kissed Chloe on the forehead.

”I love you too, Aubs,” Chloe said before returning her attention to Baby Beca in her arms.

-

“Support her head, Jake,” Chloe said as she passed the half-sleeping baby into his arms. Jacob started crying as he looked at her.

”What's wrong, bud?” Chloe asked, looking into his eyes. They were crystal blue, but not as bright as Chloe’s.

”She looks like Mama”

-

“C’mon BJ, time for school” Chloe shouted up the stairs and walked into the kitchen where Aubrey was currently fixing waffles. The women had formed a very strong connection in the years after their soulmates’ deaths. They weren’t together in a romantic sense, but they lived together, and to someone from the outside, it would seem as though they were married.

”Yeah, yeah, I’m coming” The moody 15 year old shouted back. Chloe just chuckled to herself. The girl had grown to look and act just like Beca as the years went by. After several minutes, the teen came moping down the stairs.

”Grab a waffle and go, you’re late,” Chloe said with a stern look. BJ nodded and started out the door. She stopped and turned around to look at the picture of her late mother again. Today was a particularly sad day for the whole family; It was Beca’s birthday. BJ smiled at the picture and whispered “I love you, Mama” before walking out the door.

-

”Look at my baby boy. Getting married, god, where has the time gone?” Chloe spoke to Aubrey as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I just wish Beca were here to see.”

”She is, Chlo. Not in the traditional sense, but she’s here.” Chloe nodded and went back to her drink. Chloe wasn’t keeping track of time, and soon enough, Nneka was walking down the aisle. Her dress was beautiful, it hugged her every curve and accentuated her breasts perfectly.

”You may now kiss the bride” Jacob enveloped Nneka in a loving kiss. Chloe started clapping and crying even harder as she watched her only son finally start truly living, with a wife of his own.

-

“Mom, I think I’m gay” BJ blurted out over dinner. Chloe dropped her fork but quickly recovered.

”Me too, ‘s no big deal. I’m glad you told me, honey. That’s a hard thing to do” Chloe smiled at the brunette girl.

”I don’t even know why I was scared to tell you” Chloe shrugged along with BJ “Hold on, backtrack. I thought you were pansexual?”

“I thought I was, but I’m not capable of loving anyone but your mother. If that makes me gay, so be it” Chloe explained without making eye contact. BJ knew this was a hard topic for her. Even after 16 years she still couldn’t love anyone else. No one compared to Beca. BJ placed a loving hand on her mother’s knee.

”You are just like her. I know I tell you this a lot, but you are an exact copy of Beca Mitchell. From the dark clothes, to the snippy attitude, to these ear monstrosities here-“ Chloe flicked BJ’s ear spike and she laughed at the memories of Aubrey and Beca in college, “-you are just like her. I just wish you knew her.”

BJ grinned at her mother and nodded. “I’ve seen so many pictures and videos it feels like I really do know her. I wish I could’ve met her” Chloe nodded and smiled at her daughter.

-

“I got in!” BJ shouted over the phone.

”Of course you did, you’re a legacy!” Chloe’s smile could be heard through the phone as her daughter did a small dance on the other line.

”You’ve come so far, I’m so proud of you”

-

“Oh god, first I had to give away my son, now I’ve gotta give away my daughter, too” Chloe whispered to herself as the bride, Nessa, began to walk down the aisle. BJ was standing in an all-white tux with a single rose in her pocket. Nessa had a flair of red across her collarbone. They were both so beautiful.

”I do,” BJ said, and she didn’t even need for him to say the words, she was already kissing her wife. The two 27 year olds got lost in the moment before coming back to reality and sheepishly smiling at their mothers.

The music was comprised of only Beca’s playlists, which in its self made Chloe cry. BJ climbed onto the stage “There’s a certain song I wanted to sing tonight. It goes all the way back to 2012 at Barden University. That was when my Mom fell in love with my Mama. This song is dedicated to my amazing Moms.”

The beginning notes of Titanium began to play on the stage, and Chloe instantly started sobbing. Aubrey placed a loving hand in the small of Chloe’s back. She sang along quietly and thought of Beca. All the bumps along the road, the messy parts of life were worth it, because she made the good part so much better. She was Chloe’s sunshine, even with her dark fashion choice.

”I love you Moms. I always will. Even when we’re not together, you’re a part of me, and It’ll always be there.” BJ smiled at the sky, then at Chloe when the song ended.

-

”Aubrey, do you ever regret this?” A weary, 68 year old Chloe asked. Aubrey looked confused. “I mean, do you regret not getting remarried?”

”Not at all. After Jaymes died, I realized I couldn’t love anyone else. I loved him so much I could barely breathe without him, so I knew no one could love me enough and have me return those feelings.” Aubrey replied with a shake to her voice.

”Me neither. I’m glad you’re here with me. I couldn’t have done it without you. Now my babies are all grown up and I’m missing Beca even more. I know I’ll see her soon, though.” Chloe smiled to herself at the thought of her wife.

”Don’t say that, Chlo. You still have a lot of life left to live. Don’t give up on me now” Aubrey chastised the red and white haired woman.

“I’m not giving up Bree, I promise”

-

Chloe didn’t stay true to her word. In the years following, she was waiting to leave so she could be with Beca. She wasn’t trying to die, but she was ready to go be with her loving wife again.

”Chloe, you have to go to the doctor.” Aubrey said as Chloe was taken over by another coughing spell. The coughing lasted several minutes and was accompanied by a sharp pain in the ribs.

”I’m fine”

-

”Chloe, you’re going to the doctor, now” Aubrey commanded and dragged Chloe to the door.

”I’m really fine, I promise.” Chloe was very obviously lying.

”No, you’re really not” Aubrey felt a tear run down her cheek as she watched the frail woman get into the car

-

“You have Mesothelioma, stage 4” The doctor gravely stated. Aubrey gasped.

”Stage 4? I-I don’t” Aubrey stuttered.

”It’s okay Bree. I was afraid this would happen. I let it go on too long.” Chloe silently cried into Aubrey’s shoulder.

”You have the option to undergo chemotherapy, but otherwise there’s nothing we can do. It’s already spread too far, we can’t remove it” The doctor had a sympathetic look on his face.

”Just let me go. Let me go in peace. Chemotherapy won’t do me any good.” Chloe wiped away Aubrey’s tears.

”I have been with you for 50 years, I’m not leaving you that easy, Chlo.” Aubrey determinedly stated.

”Bree, I’m dying already. Be grateful for the life we have while we still have it. I want to go home.”

-

Chloe’s last days were spent in pain. The cancer was spreading even further into her lungs. It was getting harder and harder to keep going. It had been 6 months since the diagnosis, and Chloe didn’t know how long she had left. She really didn’t want to know. As Chloe settled into bed, Aubrey began her nightly routine with Chloe.

”Goodnight Chloe. I love you so much. More than you can even imagine. I’ll see you later.” Aubrey leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Chloe dreamt of Beca and the Bellas. She remembered every touch, every kiss, every moment. She dreamt of meeting all the Bellas, of ICCAs, of every date they ever went on. She remembered it all.

...

”Hi, any interest in joining our a Capella group?” The bubbly read-head asked the sulking brunette.

”Oh, right, this is like a thing now” Aubrey was not amused by the girl’s tone, but Chloe was undeterred. She saw the potential in the mysterious woman.

...

”I’ve got more important things to do!” Beca shouted to no one in particular.

”What could be more important than this?” Chloe asked, bewildered.

”Nothing, forget it” Beca threw her hands up and turned around.

”No, you don’t think that we haven’t all realized you’ve been a little checked out lately?” Chloe borderline shouted at Beca.

”C'mon, Beca, just tell her.” Amy chimed in, to Beca’s dismay.

”I heard that, tell me what?” Chloe demanded.

”Oh, you misunderstood me, I clearly said rumpumpecker, ushmeller” Amy clarified, but Chloe didn’t pay attention.

“Listen, I don’t want you guys to fight. You’re Beca and Chloe. Together you’re Bhloe, and everyone loves a good bhloe.” Amy said, the girls ignoring her attempt at a joke.

“Okay, I have been interning at a recording studio, and a legit music producer wants to hear my work, God forbid I have something going on outside this group.” Beca broke down and told her.

”Okay, so why would you keep something like that from us-“ Chloe was cut off by a fuming Beca.

”’Cause you’re obsessed! You all are! We’re graduating and the only person thinking about life after the Bellas is me.” Beca looked at all the girls that were listening intently.

”What is so wrong with being focused on the Bellas? This has been my family for seven years.” Chloe retorted with a bite to her tone.

”Yeah cause you’re too scared to leave! Sack up, dude!” Beca shouted which earned a “Girl fight” from Cynthia Rose.

”Okay so you’ve been lying to us this whole year, and now you’re just gonna flake out? Now you’re just gonna flake out when the worlds is like right after graduation?” Chloe’s voice was straining to speak loud enough without crying.

”Oh my god! Enough about the worlds, I can’t- I am out of here.” Beca turned around to leave, heading straight for the bear trap.

”Oh okay, you’re just gonna leave now? You’re just-“ Chloe was cut off by Beca turning around and shouting.

”We all have to eventually Chloe. Might as well be now.” Beca turned back around and kept walking.

”Beca, the sign!” Emily shouted as Beca was taken into the air by a huge net.

”What the hell!” Beca screeched

...

“Hey guys,” Chloe said, waking in the door and taking off her coat.

”Why aren’t you guys ready?” Chloe questioned, seeing the casual attire the girls were dressed in.

”Why are you wearing that?!” Beca questioned with an accusing tone.

”What-“ Chloe started but was soon cut off by Beca.

”Did you wear that to work?!” Beca screeched, pointing a finger at her original Bellas uniform.

“Yeah, underneath my scrubs,” Chloe said, confidently smoothing out the wrinkles in her blazer.

”Oh, sweetie why?” Beca questioned, her mouth twisted into a confused grimace

“Because it reminds me I was special once,” Chloe said with a sad grin. ”and, you know, the Bellas reunion at the Brooklyn Aquarium”

”That’s tonight?!”

...

“What’s up, pitches!” Amy shouted as she spotted the other Bellas.

”I can’t wait for us to sing together,” Chloe said to the girls as she gave them all hugs.

”Hey Bellas!” Emily said as she walked up with the rest of the new Bellas

”What do you want us to sing tonight?” Chloe started rambling off song names.

”I brought this just in case” Chloe pulled a blue cup out of her bag to which Beca smacked it ferociously out of her hand. Emily watched it clatter to the ground

...

“Will you marry me?” Beca asked from her position on one knee. Chloe was speechless for what seemed like an eternity.

”Beca oh my God, yes!” Chloe squealed and pulled her into a kiss. She slipped the ring onto Chloe’s finger.

”I can’t believe this, Beca. I love you. So much.” Chloe cried as she spoke, still wrapped in Beca’s arms. It was a simple night, just a dinner at home with rose petals everywhere and fancy wine. It wasn’t much but it was perfect. It was home.

...

The wedding was gorgeous. It was on a beach, with red and white thrown around in a messy yet precise manner. Beca’s outfit consisted of a black blazer with a red lining, her bow tie was black and she had a pair of black and red heels on. Chloe had on a knee length dress, the sleeves see through with a floral pattern on them. Aubrey had agreed to be the officiant, so they were completely surrounded by all of their closest friends and family.

“Please be seated. First, I’d like to begin by welcoming everyone and thanking each and every one of you for being here on this most happy of days. It’s no accident that each of you are here today, and each of you were invited to be here because you represent someone important in the individual and collective lives of Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale.

“I truly can’t think of a better venue than this beautiful beach for an occasion that I know is not only monumental for the wedded-couple-to-be, but for all of us who are lucky to know and love them as individuals; but even more so as a perfect pairing.

“The most remarkable moment in life is when you meet the person who makes you feel complete. The person who makes the world a beautiful and magical place. The person with whom you share a bond so special that it transcends normal relationships and becomes something so pure and so wonderful, that you can’t imagine spending another day of your life without them. For Chloe, that happened about 9 years ago when she met me and we became best friends. I made it hard on her, of course, being the aca-nazi I am- yes I heard you call me that- I’m looking at you, Amy. But about 6 years ago she met Beca, who is pretty wonderful, too. I didn’t think so in the beginning, but she has indeed grown on me. I know how deeply these two care for and love one another, and I feel privileged to be here today among all of you as a witness of their commitment to a lifetime of love for one another.

“I think I’ve had the good fortune to meet most of you here today at some point or another, but for those of you whom I haven’t met, my name is Aubrey Posen, and I went to Barden University with both of these lovely ladies here.

“Now, Beca and Chloe have asked that I keep this speech short, classy, and family-friendly, and politely asked me to leave out stories that are unflattering to either of them. So I’ve had to redline stories about previous flings...drugs or alcohol...encounters with the police...but I do feel comfortable saying, “I told you so.” Which is exactly what I said when I learned that their relationship was becoming truly serious.

“As a third-party spectator to their developing love, it was extremely clear that the two of them represent a perfect pairing because each of them complements the other so well. They balance one another, and while each of them are tremendous individuals on their own, together they are even better. And being better together, as a team, a unit, and partners in crime, is what has been many years in the making and ultimately leads us to being here today, witnessing their commitment to one another in front of those they love most.

“I wish I could tell you a single story about Beca and Chloe that summarizes their relationship and how they enrich each other’s lives, and the lives of each of us, but the truth is there isn’t one single event that is a good encapsulation of what they mean to me, to each other, and to all of us. But what I do know is that both of them care deeply and passionately for each other; they protect each other; they make each other laugh and think outside themselves; that time magically seems to both fly and slow down when they’re together. They help each other in ways that are obvious and unnoticed, but always appreciated.

“I also know that it’s not just anyone with whom you can have communication with simply a look, or remember the weirdest names of each other’s Über drivers, or surprise each other with reservations at a restaurant you’ve been eyeing for years, or say “I’m sorry” every time it’s warranted ...eventually. They do that for and with each other.

“But it’s also my personal experiences with Beca and Chloe that highlight the quality of their love. It doesn’t matter if I’m with them in person, or simply in a bizarre group text with them and the Bellas—when I’m engaging with Beca and Chloe, I am always enjoying myself. And I am certain that that’s part of what makes them so special to each of us: how happy and contented we feel when we are with them. And what I wish for them on their wedding day is that their lifetime together as a team is one of complete contentment; full of those moments that they wish would never end, and that they continue to make one another smile and laugh as they make each of us do.

“So, without further ado… Dearly beloved and honored guests, we are gathered together here to join Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale in the union of marriage. This contract is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously, and with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities. The brides have each prepared vows that they will read now.“

Beca took a deep breath and steadied herself. “Chloe, you were my reason back then, my reason now, my reason every day. You strengthen my weaknesses, bring focus to my dreams. You are why I am living. Without you, I’d survive, but that is all I would be capable of. I wouldn’t be me without you. Here and now I pledge my life to yours, that your dreams become my dreams. No matter where life leads me, I know that as long as you are there, that is where I am meant to be.”

Chloe was crying by the time she had to say her vows. She didn’t even try to wipe them away. “Beca, you have been my best friend, mentor, playmate, confidant, and my greatest challenge. But most importantly, you are the love of my life and you make me happier than I could ever imagine and more loved than I ever thought possible. You have made me a better person, as our love for one another is reflected in the way I live my life. So I am truly blessed to be a part of your life, which as of today becomes our life together.”

Beca had tears streaming down her face by the time Chloe finished. She was so ready for this wonderful life they would make together. Aubrey cleared her throat.

“And now... Beca Mitchell, do you take Chloe Beale to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?“

“I do.”

“And Chloe Beale do you take Beca Mitchell to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?“

“I do.”

“Beca and Chloe will now exchange rings as a symbol of love and commitment to each other. Rings are a precious metal; they are also made precious by you wearing them. Your wedding rings are special; they enhance who you are. They mark the beginning of your long journey together. Your wedding ring is a circle—a symbol of love never ending. It is the seal of the vows you have just taken to love each other without end. Beca, please place the ring on Chloe’s left hand and repeat after me:

“As a sign of my love, that I have chosen you above all else, with this ring, I thee wed.”

Beca repeated at all the right times, allowing herself to cry freely.

“And Chloe, please place the ring on Beca’s left hand and repeat after me:

“As a sign of my love that I have chosen you above all else, with this ring, I thee wed.“

Chloe said as she was told.

”To make your relationship work will take love. Continue to date each other. Take time to show each other that your love and marriage grows stronger with time. It will take trust to know that in your hearts, you truly want what is best for each other. It will take dedication to stay open to one another—and to learn and grow together. It will take loyalty to go forward together, without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take commitment to hold true to the journey you have both pledged today.

“Now by the power vested in me by the state of California, it is my honor and delight to declare you married. Go forth and live each day to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.“

Beca pulled Chloe into a passionate kiss, blocking out all other senses other than the feeling of Mrs. Beale-Mitchell’s lips against her own. At that moment, nothing else mattered.

...

”I’m pregnant” Chloe blurted out one day while on a picnic with Beca. Beca whipped her head around to face her and met the glistening eyes of the love of her life.

”It worked?!” Beca exclaimed and pulled Chloe into a huge hug. Chloe had insisted on carrying the baby. She wanted to carry all of them. She always wanted to be a mother. Beca ran over to the edge of the cliff and took in a deep breath.

”I’m gonna be a daddy!” Beca shouted at the top of her lungs into the air. The city was below, the lights glinting off of windows of buildings. Chloe chuckled at Beca’s antics.

”You’re gonna be the best daddy ever.” Chloe told Beca confidently and she grinned.

”I can’t believe this, baby. We’re gonna have a kid. I’m so happy.” Beca peppered Chloe’s face with kisses and they stayed in each other's arms for as long as possible before they had to go back home

...

“You got this baby, just push. He’s almost here. You’re doing amazing, honey” Beca said in a gentle voice. Her wife wasn’t being so gentle on her hand, but she felt the need to soothe her. The cries of a newborn baby boy were like music to her ears.

”He looks just like you, Chloe.” Beca looked at the boy and smiled. He was just like a mini Chloe.

”What’re you gonna name him?” Sheila called from the corner of the room. She and Beca had become closer since college. She had no ill will towards her or Warren.

”Jacob Warren Beale-Mitchell,” Chloe said and looked at Beca’s father with a smile. He sputtered and smiled even wider at the name choice.

”My Jakey” Beca cooed at the baby

...

”Becs, guess what?” Chloe said one day at dinner.

”I’m pregnant” Beca’s fork stopped between her mouth and the plate.

”R-really? It worked again?” Beca asked with a smile.

”Yeah, it did. We’re gonna have another baby”

...

”Chloe, I’m gonna take Jake to work today, he wants to watch me work and meet my clients” Beca said as she grabbed an apple from the counter.

”Alright honey, be careful driving.” Chloe kissed Beca chastely before pulling away and resting her forehead against Beca’s. Beca placed her hands on Chloe’s pregnant belly and kissed it. “Bye baby girl” Beca whispered to the growing baby in her wife’s abdomen.

”I always am. I love you.”

“Love you too, babe”

"Alright kiddo, let’s blow this popsicle stand” Jacob laughed at his mother, a boisterous, carefree sound.

”Love you Jacob,” Chloe said and kissed his cheek.

”Love you too, Mom,” He said and hugged her goodbye.

...

Chloe’s life had been filled with hardships, but she also had love, companionship, and a wonderful group of ladies that were there for her always.

Chloe passed away in her sleep that evening. The last thing she saw before the world faded to black was a vivid mental image of her wife smiling back at her.

“Welcome home, Chloe.”

[bisexualkramer]

Something New (Day 5: Wedding/Proposal)

(read on ao3) (for @tmafemslashweek)

 Basira had found herself a nice spot in the corner after dinner, and was eagerly waiting for Melanie and Georgie to get on with dancing already, when Daisy found her.

             “Best seat in the house,” she said, by way of greeting. Basira nodded.

             “I still can’t believe they managed to get The Mechanisms for the wedding band,” Basira grumbled, fuming. “I thought they broke up years ago. Wonder if they’re fans.”

             Daisy glanced at her, confused. “What?”

             Basira nodded towards the musicians, who were slightly hidden behind a huge flower arrangement that had, only an hour earlier, sent Daisy into a sneezing fit that had lasted nearly ten minutes. She’d had to disappear to take her allergy medication, which meant that she definitely wasn’t supposed to be drinking the glass of whiskey she was currently putting to her lips. Basira decided not to press the issue.

             “The Mechanisms,” she said. “I know I made you listen to some of their stuff, back when we got together. They broke up years ago. I never got to see them live. Glad I will now, I guess, if they aren’t just playing covers. I wonder if they were fans of What the Ghost, or Ghost Hunt UK, or something.”

             Daisy was giving her an odd look, the same one that she had given Basira when she, stumblingly, had asked Daisy on their first date, and Daisy had replied that they’d already had four.

             “’Sira,” she said, “can you tell me where Jon is?”

             Basira frowned, then glanced over the sea of friends and relatives that had gathered in the small dining room for the reception. Skimming over their heads, she finally located Martin, engaged in conversation with four older women – aunts, at a guess. “Found him,” she said, and then paused, glancing around Martin’s shoulder-level and not finding any grumpy eldritch horrors hovering around him. “Wait, no,” she said, searching more thoroughly through the throngs of well-wishers and elderly relatives. “Where is he?”

             “Basira,” Daisy started, but Basira wasn’t listening.

             “Shit,” she said. “I can’t find him.”

            ��“’Sira –”

             “Where is he?”

             “Basira –”

             “If he’s taking a statement on Melanie and Georgie’s wedding night, I’m going to strangle him –”

             “Basira,” said, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of her panic. “Look at the band.”

             “What?” Basira asked, turning her head. “I don’t –”

             She paused. It was impossible. It was horrible. It was too terrible to even consider. But no – there, standing at the microphone, was Jonathan Sims, lead singer of The Mechanisms.

             “Oh, god,” she said, and Daisy snorted.

             “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

             “All this time, and it was him?”

             “If you were such a big fan, how did you not know the lead singer’s name?”

             “I listened to them in the archives all the time,” Basira said, “and he never said a thing!”

             Daisy offered Basira her whiskey. She drained the rest of it in one go.

             “Oh, look,” Daisy said, gesturing toward the crowd. “Martin’s coming. D’you think he knew?”

             “Do I think he knew that his boyfriend was the lead singer of my favorite band?” Basira hissed.

             Daisy’s smirk did nothing to help Basira’s rising anger. Martin’s kind and open smile, when he arrived, made it worse.

             “Hi,” he said, a bit breathless. “I’ve just escaped. They were asking me if I was married.”

             “What did you tell them?” Daisy asked.

             “Said I was a pouf, then panicked and ran over here. Why?”

             “It’s a gay wedding, Martin,” Daisy said. “I don’t think they’d freak out about that.”

             “Yeah, but I didn’t want them to ask when I was going to propose. Old women freak me out. What’s wrong with Basira?”

             Basira, who had been glaring at Jon for the entirety of Daisy and Martin’s conversation, huffed.

             “She’s upset that Jon is the lead singer of her favorite band and didn’t tell her.”

             “Ah,” he said. He gave Basira an apologetic smile. She pinched his arm. He squealed, but then he laughed and turned back to the band.

             As he did so, Jon stepped up to the microphone.

             “Hello, everyone,” he said, his face a bright red. Martin clapped, and Daisy wolf-whistled. He shot them both a glare. “If I could have your attention,” he said, “it’s time for the first dance.”

             Melanie and Georgie swept towards the center of the floor. Melanie handed her cane to her mother, then allowed herself to be led to the center of the dance floor. When they’d stopped, she bowed deeply to Georgie, pulling off her rather ridiculous top hat and sweeping it in an arc away from her. When she stood, Georgie stole the hat and put it on her own head. The two of them held each other firmly as the music began to play.

             “Really a beautiful wedding,” Daisy muttered.

             “It is, isn’t it,” Martin said, his voice breaking. Basira reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue.

             “Spectacular,” she said. “Does anyone know where I could get another drink?”

 …

               The middle of the dance floor was hot and loud. Jon and the band had played for about an hour before Georgie had started her “Ultimate Sapphic Wedding Playlist” and grabbed Jon by the waist for a dance. Daisy had wandered off somewhere, leaving Basira and Melanie dancing together in the corner. Melanie had lost her hat and her bow tie, somewhere along the way, and was now sporting Georgie’s veil in addition to the ostentatious blindfold she had insisted on wearing to the wedding.

             “Did you really have to have your first dance to ‘No-Eyed Girl?’” Basira asked.

             Melanie shrugged. “It’s funny,” she shouted over what Basira thought might be a One Direction song. Melanie frowned. “This playlist sort of got away from us, eh?”

             “It’s your first dance.”

             “We had Jon do it all acoustic-y and slow! Isn’t that enough?”

             “I guess,” Basira said. “Fuck, it’s hot in here.”

             “I know,” said Melanie. “I’m thinking of taking the jacket off, but I don’t want to stop dancing.”

             “You look very dashing,” said Basira. “Very dapper.”

             “Thanks,” said Melanie, attempting a sort of modified Charlie Brown that nearly sent her tumbling into one of Georgie’s friends from college. “I wanted to look like one of those vintage lesbians, you know? Didn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

             “You literally married a woman today, Melanie.”

             Melanie beamed. “I did, didn’t I? Where is she?”

             Basira craned her neck around an old man who was waving his arms around in a way that was, quite frankly, alarming. “I think she’s – no, wait – yeah, she’s doing the thing from Dirty Dancing.”

             “Aw, bless,” said Melanie. “I demand you take me to her!”

             “Demand?”

             “It’s my wedding, and I’m a bride, so I have the authority.”

             Basira rolled her eyes. “Right,” she said, and gripped Melanie’s arm, pulling her through the throngs of people to get to Georgie. As soon as Georgie noticed their approach, she flung her hands into the air, which was unfortunate, as she had been in the middle of dipping Jon. He landed squarely on his ass with an undignified yelp.

             “Melanie!” Georgie yelled.

             “That’s my wife!” Melanie yelled back, directly into Basira’s ear.

             “I know,” said Basira.

             “I love my wife!” Melanie shouted.

             “I think I got that,” said Basira.

             Basira released Melanie into Georgie’s arm and offered her assistance to Jon. He glared at Georgie.

             “Ow,” he moaned.

             Basira punched him in the arm.

             “Hey!” he shouted. “What the hell was that for?”

             “You didn’t tell me you were the lead singer for the Mechanisms, even though you specifically knew they were my favorite band, you absolute arsing –”

             “All right, all right, I’m sorry!” he said, dodging her subsequent swats. “I thought you knew!”

             “How on Earth would I have known that, Jonathan Sims, you complete –”

             “Hey,” said Martin, appearing at Basira’s shoulder. “Sorry, but can I please borrow my boyfriend? You can have him back if you want to abuse him later.”

             “Oi!”

             Basira sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Go be gross and gay somewhere else.”

             “Speaking of,” said Martin, grabbing Jon’s hand, “I think Daisy’s looking for you.”

             “Oh, thank God,” said Basira as Melanie and Georgie reappeared in her vision, trying to waltz to “Mama” by My Chemical Romance, which had just begun playing, and failing miserably. “I need to talk to someone normal.”

             Martin laughed. “She’s by the bar, I think,” he said, even as Jon began to tug him down and kiss him repeatedly on the cheek.

             Basira glanced at Jon. “You’re gross,” she said. He flipped her the bird.

             Daisy was, in fact, by the bar, having a weird half-conversation with the bartender, a young man who looked like he might be one of Georgie’s cousins. When she spotted Basira, she hopped up from her stool and gave the man a halfhearted salute. He sputtered something as a goodbye before being pulled away by a nice old lady who was wondering if he didn’t have anything stronger than wine, deary, and Basira and Daisy were left to themselves.

             “Our friends are idiots,” said Basira.

             Daisy laughed. “D’you want to dance?”

             “Oh god,” said Basira, but she let herself be pulled back to the dance floor.

 …

               “Last slow song of the night!” Georgie yelled into the abandoned microphone. “And then it’s just ‘Don’t Stop Believing,’ and then you all have to leave so Melanie and I can go and have sex!”

             The few friends and younger family members who remained cheered. Melanie’s grandmother wolf-whistled; Georgie’s cousin at the bar looked incredibly uncomfortable.

             The first few notes of a slow do-wop song began to play. Basira placed one hand on the small of Daisy’s back and pulled her close. Daisy leaned her head against Basira’s chest as the two of them began to sway.

             “I really love you, you know,” Daisy mumbled.

             Basira pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “I love you, too,” she said. She squeezed Daisy’s hand. “Always will.”

             “I know,” said Daisy. “I keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

             “Easy,” said Basira. “It was your incredible, incredible ass.”

             Daisy snorted. “Thanks.”

             “I just saw it, and it was like a black hole. I couldn’t escape.”

             “You’re very kind.”

             “I’m serious. I thought, ‘Oh my God, she’s got such a good ass. I can’t believe I’m going to sleep with her.’ And then I did.”

             Daisy pulled back and fixed Basira with a skeptical glare. Basira winked. Daisy pulled her down for a kiss. Her lips were soft and a bit dry, same as they always were, and she tasted of whiskey and wedding cake. When they parted, Daisy stroked her cheek.

             “Not to mention,” said Basira, “you’ve got abs for days.”

             “Sap,” said Daisy.

             “Yeah,” said Basira. She pulled Daisy back to her chest, and the two of them swayed together to the music. “Yeah, I reckon I am.”

[expshared]

this season was kind of whack, but at least we had Eizouken

Heya Camp is just kind of a lazy reminder that Yuru Camp exists, and will continue to exist in the future. You remember these characters?? OK good, just making sure. That said, did I immediately feel the tension release in my entire body when I heard the OST? Duh. Did I sing “it’s coffee time” to the ending not knowing these were the incorrect lyrics? The entire time.

I don’t know what to do with Isekai Quartet because like, objectively, I should hate it. I do not enjoy like 2.5 of the shows involved, and the addition of Shield Hero was not a welcome one. Turns out it doesn’t matter anyway because it was just Isekai Quartet and also Naofumi is Sometimes Scowling in the Background and that’s about as much of him as I want to see anyway. And yet? I do enjoy this Disney Channel Original Crossover. There’s something inherently fun about watching these characters from disparate shows interact with each other, and no matter what the original stakes were in their respective series, they’re all just doing homework and getting part time jobs and that shit’s funny when a big skeleton man is doing it.

After its first episode, Asteroid in Love was kind of a slog. This is your typical seasonal CGDGT show, and apart from that, I really can’t think of anything to say about it. I didn’t learn anything about the Extremely Niche Topic these girls are doing, and it wasn’t even that gay. Disappointing. 

I was really looking forward to Toilet Bound Hanako-kun because I am a big fan of the source material, but I was pretty let down by this adaptation. It seems that they prioritized the art style and the color scheme above everything else, but that essentially just meant the entire project ended up being colored manga panels. I wanted to see them move around! There was not a single moment of animation that justified it being an anime. You might as well have been watching a PowerPoint. I can’t think of anything nice to say. Let’s move on. 

Bofuri is my power fantasy. I want to play a video game so cluelessly I break it into tiny pieces and bumble into being the most powerful player in the world’s nicest MMORPG. Maple turns powercreep into powersprint. What Bofuri lacks in character development or plot, it makes up for in outrageous Maple feats. She holds the entire world in the palm of her hand and she doesn’t even know it. She named her OP pet turtle Syrup and then turned into an alien abomination unknown to the world and went on a killing rampage. This anime was Maple Crossing Online. Love you, Maple. Wreck shit, Maple. 

If My Favorite Idol Got Into Budokan, I Would Die walks a thin line and what separates it from being a slobbering idol otaku engine preaching how Cool it is to Be an Otaku and an Idol Show Watamote is the fact that Eripiyo is a girl. That’s it. If you took her and replaced her with your average Joe Schmoe-san, this show would be insufferably creepy. Every time I was waiting for it to topple over, Jenga-like, it managed to right itself and straddle the tightrope. It’s not a particularly subtle piece of media, nor does it do what I was hoping it would do and engage in any sort of conversation about the obsessive nature of idol otakudom, but you know what it does a good job of doing? Portraying being an idol as a job. Just some adults putting on underground shows and selling the same CD of like two songs over and over again. I was also hoping it would address what happened to Eripiyo, maybe talk about why at the beginning she’s dressed like an office worker and apparently gives that all up to follow this kinda-shitty idol group, why this fanatic escapism is preferable, or even maybe address how gay it is? Not in the cards, though. Honestly Budokan was, despite itself, pretty enjoyable? There are some great background lesbians. Also can we talk about how consistently good the production values were on this show? Why did this have such great dance sequences? Why did this look better than Love “Has More Money Than God” Live? Actually no I take everything back this show was kind of just Idol Otaku Watamote

Hey, let’s talk about the other idol show airing this season: the completely unhinged 22/7. This show is Whack. This show operates on an entire different plane of reality. I know nothing about the actual band, so I came into this blind and oh my god. Hey guys, the plot of 22/7 is that a Wall tells some girls to form an idol unit.  A sentient Wall whose orders absolutely must be followed. Why? Dunno! What happens if you don’t follow its orders? Never elaborated on. (Actually, is this a reference to Pink Floyd? I have no fucking clue.) In any case these eight girls, summoned by a letter from the Wall, are all invited to become an idol group, and then they’re magically an idol group. It’s unclear how they become successful, how they book gigs, who’s keeping the lights on at the agency, how they’re getting paid, who HR is, how their gorilla man agent found this Wall and determined that all its directives Must Be Followed, but shit, man. What follows in 22/7 is a one-member-per-episode serial that quite frankly stumbles far more often than it succeeds. One girl’s grandma died and that’s why she came to Japan. One girl had a traumatizing experience where she got lost in the woods for a week and it broke her family apart and now things just suck forever. These things are equal. One poor girl’s entire episode was about how she didn’t want to put on a bathing suit for a photo shoot and how uncomfortable she felt about it, but in the end she was made to apologize for dragging her feet for so long and takes her photo for a pin up. Yuck. Gross. Bad. The only valid girl is Jun, end of discussion. None of this even holds a candle to the finale-- wherein the girls are directed by the Wall to disband, and, defying an order for the first time, the girls return to their agency and throw shit at the Wall until it breaks down. It’s revealed that the Wall isn’t supernatural-- behind it are tv monitors, photos of the girls as children, records of their activities. A person or people are behind this. Why??? Are they being groomed?? Is the Wall a metaphor for the Industry? I’m so concerned. The girls aren’t, though, because after a little side eyeing, they ascend a staircase and wow! A Stage! Our fans are all here for our reunion tour! And then they’re fine and I guess their idol group is back together or something? Did I mention the stage where they perform? It’s at a zoo. I can’t tell if this is the most scathing condemnation of idol culture I’ve ever watched or just completely oblivious. The characters don’t engage in any sort of thought about what they’re being put through, but they are performing their final song, the lyrics of which are about how life is just too hard to keep on living, at a zoo and I don’t think you can have that sort of thing happen unless you’re trying to make a point. Right??? RIGHT?!? Dance and sing, monkeys.

Smile Down the Runway was another show completely divorced from reality. So you got your main character, Chiyuki, whose thing is that she’s Too Short to Be a Model at her father’s very prestigious modeling agency. Which, like, is valid! Let’s see some variation in the modeling industry. Let’s shake it up. Let’s lead the charge for alternative models with bodies outside of the very narrow requirements of the fashion industry. What’s that, Chiyuki? You have no interest in that? You want to be a Hypermodel? I don’t know what that shit is, I think you made it up. Our other protagonist is Ikuto, the destitute, put upon, bobcut boy with a dying mother and 3 younger siblings who is trying to pursue his dream of becoming a fashion designer. Are you beginning to sense the problem here? There is a fundamental imbalance in the presentation of these characters’ goals and situations. Also? Emotions are at an eleven, always. Characters are always acting as if they’ve just seen someone get murdered in front of their eyes even when it’s like. There’s a messed up seam. They are constantly being mortified, crushed, and having their dreams ripped away. One time, two different assholes offered Ikuto magical mom-fixing blood money when he was struggling to come up with funds to pay off his medical debt at the cost of giving up his spot in the fashion show. Wildin’ 

Haikyuu didn’t exactly come in like a lion, but I’m sure it’ll be more organic upon rewatching. We were laying the groundwork for much of this season so I’m expecting it to payoff later, but the beginning definitely lagged. Every time Haikyuu hints at a women’s volleyball tournament, I want a volleyball anime with girls. Man, those ten minutes we got with Kiyoko? Those were great. 

I don’t have too much to say about Somali and Forest Spirit. Abe’s “Make Children” agenda feels at least a little more like a narrative choice in this anime, and I enjoyed Somali and the Golem’s relationship and their travels were in equal turns harrowing and heartwarming. And I did tear up at the end so you got me there, anime. 

In/Spectre has some balls being an anime. It’s existed as a light novel and a manga and those are both superior mediums for it because let’s put all our cards on the table here-- In/Spectre is a show about talking. Five whole entire episodes take place in a car. The finale is winning an argument in an anonymous 4chan chatroom. That said, I have such a fondness for In/Spectre. I think Kotoko rocks. I think a show willing to do nothing but talk at you for two hours is badass. Sitting through this anime is like watching a podcast. I think the show engages in some great dialogue about human nature and how we prefer stories that are theatrical, narratively-driven, and have a logical cause-and-effect, instead of the truth, which is more often than not grim, and disappointing, and illogical. I like that Kotoko’s only function, in-story and out of it, is to bullshit so hard she invents alternate realities. Anyway In/Spectre is good. 

There’s no praise I can lavish on Eizouken that hasn’t already been said. It’s powerful, it’s strange, it’s energetic, and it’s packaged with such love. It’s repurposed the CGDCT template into something deeply affecting. It’s an anime for people who love animation.  I hope everyone watches Eizouken.

[thecleverdame]

TTWDBI - THREE

Part Three - Judgement

Masterlist

Summary: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader -Sam’s young, powerful and comes from one of the wealthiest families in New York. When he meets an Omega bartender who’s far from what his family expects, Sam is forced to make a series of hard choices.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, knotting, breeding, dominance, ownership, angst, family drama

- 

“You were late today.” John quips.

Sam doesn’t look away from his computer as his father takes a seat, adjusting the lapel of his jacket.

“I wasn’t late for anything. I came in later than I normally do, but I was here for the Cavanaugh presentation.” Sam quips, finishing his email before giving his father his full attention. “Are you keeping tabs on me now?”

“Yesterday you didn’t show up for work and I find you shacked up with a woman I’ve never seen before. This morning you wander in at ten o’clock. It seems like I need to take pay attention.”

“Your concern is noted. What happened yesterday will never happen again. But while I’m working eighty hour weeks, I expect to be able to come and go on my own schedule.”

John’s eyes narrow, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as he stares at his youngest son.

“You need to talk to your mother.”

“I thought you were going to take care of that.”

“You’re not getting off that easy. I told her you’re seeing someone. It’s up to you to break the news.” John couldn’t be more disgusted by the conversation and they both know it. He’s never had the patience for anyone or anything that disappoints him.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her on Friday, at dinner.”

“I think you should break the news before then. And you better bring the girl.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Sam cocks an eyebrow.

“Of course not, but she’s important to you if you claimed her and your mother will want her there. That’s a huge commitment, Sam. Being a mate is a shit ton of responsibility that begins and ends with your family.”

“I get it.” Sam’s done with the conversation but John is far from it.

“Do you? Tell me you understand why I’m upset, Sam. I need to know that you get it.”

“I don’t.” Sam shakes his head. “Maybe if I had a history of reckless choices I’d understand your concern but I’ve always pulled my weight when it comes to the business. I missed the meeting yesterday and I get that can’t happen again and it won’t. But my whole life just changed, I think I’m entitled to a mistake.”

“Is there anything else I should know?” John pulls his glasses from his pocket. “If this girl is going to come back and bite the family in the ass, you better tell me now.”

“No.” Sam quips.

In truth, he has no idea. You could have a closet full of dirty secrets and scandals that he doesn’t know about. But he’s not able to tell his father that. Besides, he’s loyal. Even if there was something, he wouldn’t throw you to the wolves.

“I sure as hell hope not.” His father grunts, pulling twin folders from his briefcase and throwing them onto Sam’s desk.

“What is this?” Sam cocks an eyebrow.

“What I came to talk to you about.” John stares a hole into Sam before a smile breaks out over his face. His gruff, satisfied laugh laughing filling the room. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. We got final approval this morning.”

“You’re kidding me…” Sam trails off, everything else fading away. “They said FDA approval would take two years at the soonest.”

“I greased a few palms and Caleb worked his magic. As of this morning, we’re officially ready for market.” John laughs again, slapping a palm on the arm of the chair. “Not only are we about to make history but we’re gonna make more money than God himself. This is a game changer, Sam. It’s why I need to make sure you’ve got your head on straight, that you’re all in. This train is going to start moving and things will happen fast. I need you sharp. I can’t do this without you.”

“I’m here and I’m ready.” Sam nods.

“I’m glad to hear it.” John’s stare lingers for a few seconds before he gets up to leave. “Your mother is meeting me this afternoon. She’s coming here before we head to dinner with the Takahashi’s. I’ll send her your way before we leave. You need to tell her Sam. Today.”

“I know.” The younger Alpha nods. “I will.”

—

There’s a soft knock and Sam looks up as his mother slips through the door, carefully shutting it behind her. He abruptly ends his conference call and she’s apologizing before the line is dead.

“Your father said you wanted to talk to me. I wasn’t trying to interrupt. You didn’t have to end that call for me.” She smiles as Sam approaches her, hugging her before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You’re always more important than work.” He waves his hand in her direction. “Do you want anything? I can have Amelia bring us coffee-”

“No.” She sighs, squeezing his arm. “I’m just stopping by. I heard you have some news to tell me.”

She looks excited and Sam feels sick. John must not have indicated how unhappy he was with his choice. He’s left the hard sell to Sam. She takes a seat on the small sofa across from his desk and he moves, sits beside her.

“He told you I was seeing someone?” He clarifies.

“Yup.” She quips, still grinning. “But he wouldn’t tell me any details. I don’t want to be that mom, but you know I wanted to call you as soon as he said anything.”

“I know.” Sam smiles tightly.

“What’s wrong? Is it someone I know?” Her good mood is fading quickly once she senses his apprehension. “It’s not your secretary is it? I see the way she looks at you-”

“No, definitely not.” Sam pauses. “I just, I don’t want you to be upset with me. We’ve worked so hard to have this relationship and it would hurt me to know that you’re disappointed in my choice.”

“Disappointed?” She repeats, her eyes narrowing. He can see the wheels turning in her head, trying to figure out where this is headed. “I’m never disappointed in you.”

“I don’t know about that.” Sam snorts and instantly regrets the comment.

“You’re starting to make me nervous.” Her mouth pinches together in concern.

“Mom, I know you have this idea of who you want me to be with. The kind of person you think is a good match, but that’s really not what I want.” He needs to just say it, but this is harder than he thought it would be.

“Well, Lord knows you have no interest in any of the women I’ve set you up with.” She sits back. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? You think I care that much about who you’re dating, enough that it would affect our relationship?”

“I know you, you don’t like unconventional.”

“Sam,” Mary whispers, taking his large hand between her own. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re…gay? Because I don’t care about-”

“What?” He’s taken off guard. “No. No, I’m not gay. I met a woman and things have moved fast. I don’t want to get into the gritty details right now but I-I claimed her. And despite how it might seem I feel that she’s the person I’m meant to be with.”

“Oh.” She takes a breath, stoic and staring at him as if she’s not heard correctly. Her hands pull back into her own lap.“Where did you meet her?”

“I was out with some of the guys and we ran into each other. She was working actually.”

This is the part that eats Sam up from the inside. If he’s honest, there’s a part of him that hates his hesitation to say who you are. What you are. A job doesn’t define a person, nor does social standing or lineage. But his parents missed that memo.

“Working?” She chokes. “Oh my God, this is your brother all over again.”

“No mom, she’s not a stripper.” Sam resists the urge to roll his eyes. “She works in bar-”

“Thank God there’s a distinction.” She spits back.

“Don’t be like that.” Sam snips, instantly angered by her response. Disappointment he can understand, but her irritation is a whole other beast. He won’t tolerate it, not from her. He’s forgiven a lot when it comes to his mother, he gave her a chance back when his father and brother refused to speak to her.

“Well, I’m not sure what you want me to say.” She grits out. “I think we should talk about this later after I’ve had time to digest the news. I don’t want to say anything I might regret.”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

—

“What are we celebrating?” You inquire, slipping on to the couch beside Sam.

He’s popped a bottle of champaign, leaning over the coffee table to pour you both a glass.

“We’re celebrating the next chapter in my life - our life.” Grinning, he hands you a glass clinking his to yours before taking a sip. “First I found you and now we have FDA approval. This drug is going to be huge.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you’re happy. But can you tell what I’m happy about?” You laugh, energized by how thrilled he is.

“Sorry,” Sam grins. Leaning forward he kisses you quickly, then a second time as if he needs another taste. Then he tips back his glass, gulping down the champagne.

Sam looks utterly alive as if every part of him is vibrating with excitement.

“Gilead has this world-renowned research and development team. For a decade my father has been recruiting people, the top scientists, and thinkers from around the world. Poaching people from other companies. One of the reasons Gilead has been so successful is our commitment to pushing boundaries, thinking outside the box and being willing to fund projects that some predict are likely to fail. It’s all about the possibility.”

His face lights up as he talks, becoming more animated as his hands grab the flesh just above your knee, squeezing in excitement and leaving his palm there. If you’ve learned one thing about him, it’s that he prefers to always be touching you. The physical contact anchors the two of you together.

“Ten years ago R&D came to my dad and pitched a simple idea. A cure for heat sickness. One percent of the world’s population are Omegas who have unsatisfied heat and we wanted to target that group and find a treatment.”

Truth be told he doesn’t need to explain it. Unsatisfied heat is a condition that terrifies you.

Some Omegas have a heat that grows more severe over time. Often it’s made worse once they’re claimed. The basic idea is their body wants a child, it’s the biological reason for the pairing. It harkens back to a time, thousands of years ago when human biology evolved to combat a dying population. Alpha was the first to emerge of the evolutionary chain and Omega followed with one purpose: to breed. It’s a basic instinctual need that still exists but it’s been dulled over time.

A few hundred years ago Sam would have claimed you and you would have given him as many children as your body could manage. Reproduction was imperative and the preternatural pull was insatiable. Women bore child after child until they became too old to become pregnant or died during childbirth  It wasn’t uncommon for women to bear children until it took their life.

And when Omegas aged out of the childbearing years they were replaced by someone younger who was still fertile. It was commonplace for an Alpha to have four or five mates over his lifetime. Foregoing one for the next, leaving behind each Omega to suffer a lonely existence.

It was during these times that unsatisfied heats first showed up.

The more common situation is an Omega being forced to become pregnant to satiate her heat. Being fucked and knotted doesn’t do the trick. In these cases, the body needs a full womb to equalize and the woman’s body turns on herself until it’s given what it wants. It’s one of two options, have child after child or suffer through spine curling heats that often last for weeks a time.

The second and the rarer scenario is when an Omega is unable to be satisfied. Despite claiming, mating and pregnancy their heats grow more and more intense. To date there is no treatment, the condition is terminal but often makes the Omegas suffer for years before finally taking their life.

One percent of the population means it affects roughly seventy million people.

“And you found a cure?” You ask and Sam smiles, pink lips pulling back over white teeth.

“Three years ago we went into clinical trials and the results were incredible. Phase one had a ninety-two percent success rate. I’m talking about no pain, no heat. No symptoms at all. It only got better from there. We were told FDA approval would take years. It’s only been eight months.” He laughs, clearly over the moon at this news.

“You’re going to help so many people.” You beam, proud of this man who’s waltzed into your life. He just keeps getting better and better. “I mean it, that’s amazing. It’s going to change people’s lives.”

“Yeah.” His smile fades as he focuses on you.

All day people have responded to the news with comments about how much money this drug will make and what it will do the company’s stock prices, not to mention future applications. But here you are, talking about the people it will impact.

“What?” You ask, afraid you’ve said something wrong.

“Nothing.” He cups your jaw, running his thumb back and forth across your cheek. “I just like you so much.”

–

Sam’s insistent two of you continue learning about each other. Whether it’s an in-depth conversation or eating you out on the floor of his apartment, Sam’s need to know you is insatiable. His fingers curl into the clammy flesh at the back of your knees, forcing your legs wider.

“Right there.” You moan, butterflying your knees outward as Sam’s tongue works in deft strokes over your clit. You’re spread out on his living room floor, naked, sweating and hovering on the cusp of an orgasm for nearly an hour.

“Wanna fuck you Omega, but you taste too good.” He mumbles against your pussy, taking a moment to lick into your cunt, pressing his tongue inside to get a taste before moving back to your clit.

“You’re gonna make me cum.” You moan, sucking in a breath and tuning your head to the side as you close your eyes in concentration.

“Tell me when.” His tongue slides firm, back and forth, working your bud until the building pleasure encroached on too much.

“Now, Sam.” Warning him you’re momentarily shocked when he pulls his head from between your legs.

Sam moves fast, over your body and pushing his cock into you with breathtaking speed. He thrusts in to the root with one sudden shove of hips. His pelvis rocks into your clit and you cum, crying out, clawing at his neck and back as he holds himself deep.

He feels delirious like he’s in the midst of some feverish dream as he watches you under him, struggling to breathe, your tight little pussy squeezing him again and again. Your back arches as you gasp and go limp, like you’re dying before he brings you back to life.

“Love watching you cum.” He grunts, smiling against your throat, before scraping his teeth over the hollow of your neck.  “So fucking beautiful taking my cock Omega. I can feel you, sucking me inside you.”

“Oh God,” Choking, you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your cunt continue to pulse around his thick shaft. The weight of his large frame on top of you coupled with the sensation of being filled to the brim is incredible. If feels like this is where you’re meant to be.

Sam’s never been in love. He’s never even been close before. But as he lifts his heads to watch you silently gasp and twitch as your orgasm fades, he can imagine what it’s like. He can understand the wanting someone completely, body and soul.

“That feel good?” He grins, watching as your eyes flutter open.

“Amazing,” you sigh, smiling lazily and looking up at him. Bringing a hand to his face you bite your lip as you try to catch your breath. “It feels better when you’re inside me when I cum.”

“Better than my fingers?” He clarifies.

Sam’s in the process of the methodical exploration of your perfect orgasm and you think he might just have found it.

“Way better.” Arching up you kiss him. “It feels best when you’re like this.”

“Noted.” He quips, his mouth breaking free to watch your reaction as he rocks his hips, sliding out before slowly easing back inside. “Too much?”

“No,” You sigh, hitching your legs wider. “Just a little sensitive. Be gentle with me.”

“Of course.” Sam nuzzles under your jaw, dragging his nose across your skin as he breathes you in.

He fucks you slow and deep, with long, steady thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your skull. He watches you intently, mesmerized by the way you whimper, clutching at his shoulders, hanging on to him with the desperation of a drowning woman.

“Can you cum again?” He speeds up, just enough to ease the ache of his cock, sliding base to tip with every thrust.

“I don’t know. But it feels so good I don’t care.”

Sam places one hand on either side of your head, holding his weight and pumping faster. The wet smack of your bodies coming together echoing off the walls and becoming his sole focus. That sounds gets faster and louder until he feels his knot swelling.

“Fuck.” Groaning in pleasure, he pops inside you, emptying thick ropes of cum into your belly as you take his knot. He’s not sure he’s ever going to get used to the feeling of knotting you bare, cumming inside you as nature intended. It feels unbelievable every time.

—

You don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s too early for any sane person to start the day, You’ve bartended for your entire adult life so the night owl lifestyle comes as a default. Truth be told you’ve always preferred to sleep until noon and start the day at a slow pace.

Sam is the polar opposite.

“Good morning.” His sleep drunk voice is deep and warm at the shell of your ear as you lay face down in the feather pillow.

“Hmmff.” Grunting, you burrow deeper, stretching out under the covers.

“Are you going to join me this morning?” You feel the smile on his lips as he kisses your shoulder.

He’s been trying to get you to go running with him for the last three mornings. You’ve declined. Not that you don’t exercise. You love to work up a good sweat, you even jog on occasion, but not at 4:45 am.

“It’s too early.” You groan.

“Come on.” You feel the bed dip as he straddles your legs. Pulling down the blanket his lips trailing down your naked spine. “It’s hard the first few times but it’s worth it. If you get out of bed right now we can have a great view as the sun comes up.”

“If you’re trying to motivate me you’re headed down the wrong path.The idea of watching the sunrise makes me nauseous.”  Voice muffled by the pillow you make no move.

“Okay, how about this. If you come with me today, I’ll stay in bed with you tomorrow and wake you up more enjoyably.”

Maybe it’s the promise of morning sex or just the playful tone of his offer but you crack on eye open.

“Even if I wanted to, which I do not, I don’t have anything to wear.” It’s the same excuse you’ve used all week but this time he’s ready.

“On the contrary. I took the liberty of having a few items delivered. Not only do you have something to wear, but you’ve also got options.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I want you to be healthy and live a very long life so I can enjoy you as long as possible. Purely selfish reasons.”

Ten minutes later you’re still half asleep, leaning into Sam’s side as the elevator descends to the ground floor. He chuckles tucking an arm around your side and squeezing you against him.

“It’s freezing out there.” Your protesting hasn’t ended, even as he takes your hand and pulls you toward the front doors of the building.

“You’ll warm up in two minutes. Come on, if we leave now we can be back in time for a nice long shower before I have to leave…”

“Promises, promises.” You laugh as you follow him out into the cold.

–

You walk through the front door of Mick’s just after lunch. You need to beg forgiveness from your manager Joey. He sees you coming across the room and waves the hand towel he’s holding in your direction.

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He warns.

“Please, just let me explain.” Begging you take a seat on the stool across from him.

“Explain what? That you left to fuck some dude and left Jesse alone in the middle of a shift? I don’t hear from you for almost a week…”

“Well,” You shrug, unable to argue with the facts. “Yeah, but things were crazy and I…I - I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again.”

“I can’t chance it.” Joey stops what he’s doing and gives you his full attention.

“Come on, I never even call in sick.” You counter.

“Maybe not sick but I already gotta give you time off every month for your..Omega stuff. I should have known better. I thought you’d work out but I set you up for failure, that’s my fault.”

“Are you kidding me?” Eyes narrowing you study him, trying to suss out if he’s joking. You’ve known him nearly two years and you’ve never even suspected that he might be prejudiced.

“Look, I’m sorry.” He sighs, distinctly uncomfortable. He’s hoping you’ll walk away or storm out but you’re not going to make this easy for him.

“I know I did a shitty thing leaving like that. But trust me, it will never happen again. I swear. Look-” You push your hair back and pull at the neckline of your t-shirt. “I’m not even on the market anymore.”

He eyes Sam’s bite and takes a moment before rolling his eyes in frustration.

“A claimed Omega doesn’t do me any good. I’m just gonna be honest here. The reason I hired you is that you’re super hot and single. You’re a draw, guys come back every weekend to try and get a piece. But what am I supposed to do with you now?”

“Wow.” You murmur, trying to comprehend what he’s telling you. Feeling a blush rising in your cheeks you try to maintain your composure. There’s a sickening culmination of anger and embarrassment threatening to overtake you.  

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re making me feel like an asshole.” He grumbles.

“Maybe because you are.” You spit back.

“Hey, watch your mouth.” Joey has always had a quick temper and he doesn’t like to put in his place. “Because I’m a nice guy and I don’t want you out on the street I’ll see what I can do. Maybe we can get you on the afternoon shift.”

“You want me serving burgers to salesmen? No way, the tips aren’t worth leaving the house.”

“Fine, have it your way. You’re fired.”

–

Sam left you a key.

Just like that he trusts you enough to leave a key in a white envelope on his kitchen counter with your name scrawled across the paper. There was a note in his block letter writing - You can come and go as you please.

Unable to control the idiotic smile on your face you slipped the shiny silver key onto your ring. It’s been burning a hole in your pocket all day, just resting there, like an unspoken invitation to his life.  There wasn’t a conversation or a massive gesture of commitment. It’s more than that, it’s the way he’s approached his entire short-lived relationship with you.

You’re here to stay and that’s just the way things are now.

Sam’s apartment is massive and modern. You’ve seen the plenty of the master bedroom but you explore the rest of his home, finding an office filled with books and two oversized leather chairs. The shelves are filled with volumes of boring books on business and leadership. But the opposing wall is all fiction. Everything from Tolkien to Jane Austen. You smile pulling the first edition of Mansfield Park, delicately opening the pages.

Across the hall, there’s a small guest room with a neatly made bed and en-suite bath. Off the kitchen, you find a laundry room and a fully stocked pantry. The kitchen and living area are one massive space, open and tall with vaulted ceilings. The far wall of the living room is one giant window, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, looking out over the city.

You don’t even want to guess what he pays for a place like this.

You hear a key in the door and glance at the clock. It’s not even three and Sam shouldn’t be home yet. You’re watching from beside the refrigerator as an older woman lets herself in, dropping her bags to the floor.

“Hello.” You greet tentatively and in turn scare the living daylights of her.

“Oh, Lord!” She shrieks, placing a hand over her heart.

“Sorry!” You put your hands up. “I’m so sorry. I was trying to not to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” She takes a heavy breath, sucking in through her nose. “I’ve been a little jumpy lately.”

“Do you mind if I ask…who are you?” You take a step closer, sock feet sliding across the hardwood of the kitchen floor.

Her expression sours at your question.

“Who are you?” She returns.

“I’m-” That’s a good question. “I’m Sam’s…Omega.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen, looking at you with a newfound curiosity. She looks you over from head to toe, offering a final nod of apparent approval. “I didn’t know he’d taken a mate. About time.”

“I’m Y/N.” You continue hoping to get more information about this stranger.

“Gail.” She offers her hand and you shake it. “I’m the housekeeper.”

“I didn’t know he had a housekeeper.” You admit as she moves to the sink, already focused on the job at hand.

“I didn’t know he had an Omega.” She shrugs, rinses glasses and loading them into the dishwasher. “We’re both learning new things today.”

You’re a bit taken aback by her attitude, unsure if you’ve done something to offend her.

“I come on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.” She looks up, “I clean and do the laundry. You can leave your clothes in the hamper, or on the floor, but if you want anything dry cleaned, make sure you lay it out in a separate pile. I prefer to do my work and leave. Mr. Winchester likes discretion and I do my best to keep my nose out of his business. That includes friendly conversation. The less I know about you, the better. It’s not personal.”

“Uh, okay.” You nod, slinking away from her.

You try to ignore her presence, but having someone scrubbing the shower and cleaning the toilets while you lay around doesn’t feel right, so you grab your jacket and spend an hour at the coffee shop down the street contemplating how strange life keeps getting.

–

“You look beautiful.” Sam squeezes your hand as the elevator rises. John and Mary Winchester live on the top three floors of the massive Lebanon building. You Googled it this morning, wanting to get an idea of what you’d be walking into and were flabbergasted by the size and opulence of their home. From the rooftop swimming pool to the custom marble floors it’s clear you’re walking into a life that you know nothing about.

You knew they were rich, but John’s net worth printed in bold letters next to his name gave you a stomach ache.

Sam bought the dress you’re wearing. You’d protested when he handed you the box but he scoffed rebutting your apprehension by telling you he saw it in the window and thought of you. You suspect it has more to with the matching lingerie underneath but you couldn’t turn down his generosity. Not to mention the way he looked at you when you emerged from the bedroom, eyeing you from head to toes with a stare that made your belly tight.

“We need to get this over with so I can get you home.” He purred, kissing you in the back seat of his car. You glanced up to see if the driver was watching the two of you make out like kids, but only found two eyes plastered to the road. Sam’s mouth caught yours again, kissing you slow and deep, letting his tongue venture over yours as his hand slid between your thighs. “Wanna fuck you in this dress.”

He warned you this wouldn’t be typical Friday night dinner. It’s part of their yearly employee appreciation initiative. And tonight several members of the board and each of Sam, John and Dean’s assistants will be in attendance.

A woman, evidently staff, answers the door. Sam hands her his coat, then helps you off with yours. Once you’re alone he embraces you, slipping both arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest. Placing both hands on his biceps you stare into his bright, shining eyes, breathing the smell of his cologne and unmistakable scent of his Alpha.

“My family can be…different. I want you to know how much I want you here tonight. You’re a big part of my life now and-”

“Sam!”

You turn to see a blonde woman striding in your direction with a painfully tight smile plastered to her face.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She slinks closer and Sam relinquishes his hold on you, keeping one hand around your waist.

“Mom, this is Y/N.” He gestures toward you. “This is my mother.”

“Hello.” She extends her hand and you take it. “I’m Mary.”

“Hi, Y/N. Thank you for having me. Your home is beautiful.”

She stares at you for a moment, nostrils flaring as she blinks in rapid succession.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Tipping her head, Mary looks you over one last time before turning back to Sam.

“She’s gorgeous.” She quips, turning on her heels before he has a chance to respond. “We’re having cocktails in your father’s study. Please join us when you’re ready.”

You watch her leave, not quite sure of what to make of the interaction. She’s less brash than Sam’s father but something is simmering under the surface that you can’t quite put your finger on.

Sam takes your hand as he leads you through the long hall before he opens the doors into a two-story office. It’s like something out of a fairy tale, books floor to ceiling surrounded by hardwood and leather.

“Sam!” You look up to see a pretty brunette in a cherry red dress walking toward you. She’s carrying a glass of champagne and it sloshes over the edge. Her eyes stutter between the two of you as she gets closer. Her eyes fall to where he’s holding your hand. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” Sam grins, letting you go as he places a hand at the small of your back. “Amelia, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Amelia, she’s my assistant. She keeps my working life in order. I’d be a mess without her.”

“Hi.” You extend a hand and she pauses for a split second before taking it.

“Nice to meet you.” She smiles. Her disappointment is palpable as she looks between you and Sam before asking what she wants to know. “She’s your…friend?”

“She’s my Omega,” Sam confirms without skipping a beat.

You squirm as the color drains from her face. It was apparently the last answer she expected to hear.

“Oh wow, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” She recovers quickly, unable to look at you directly.

–

At dinner, you’re seated next to Sam and directly across from John’s assistant Rowena. You’ve caught her staring multiple times now but she’s doesn’t seem intimidated, refusing to look away. She’s studying you and you don’t think you want to know why.

To Rowena’s right is Amelia and on her left is Lisa, Dean’s secretary. It’s interesting, three powerful men with beautiful women working for them. It all feels very old-school. You try to listen to the conversation happening at the end of the table here John and Mary are chatting with Dean about an upcoming project.

“So, Y/N.” Lisa smiles, sweet as sugar. “We’re all so surprised to find out about you and Sam. I’m dying to know more about you. Where did you go to school?”

Sam’s hand finds you under the table, offering a squeeze.

“Um,” You pause setting down your wine glass. “Hillhouse. In New Haven.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of it…” She makes a production of thinking about your answer, mushing her lips together. “Oh honey, I didn’t mean high school. Sorry, I should have clarified. Where did you go to college?”

You try to control your expression, holding your jaw stiff, willing yourself not to give away any reaction.

“I didn’t. I started working right out of high school.” You answer honestly, suddenly aware that you have the attention of the entire table. Sam shifts beside you, this time he places his hand over yours where it rests on the table.

“Oh,” Amelia chimes in. “Nothing wrong with that. So Sam, why you don’t tell us how the two of you met.”

John clears this throat from the head the table, but Sam doesn’t react.

“I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Your Alpha responds, taking a sip of his whiskey.

“How romantic.” Amelia grins, her eyes betraying her. “I think I heard Mary saying you were working? What is that you do?”

You have a sneaking suspicion that she knows full well what you do. These questions are designed to be a deliberate public humiliation.

“I was a bartender.” You quip, not wasting any time. You’ve never felt ashamed of what you do or who you are until now. There’s a heat rising in your cheek and a sick feeling in your belly.

“Was?” Mary inquires. Every head at the table looks from her to you. Shit.

“She’s making a change.” Sam intercedes.

“Better be careful.” Lisa leans forward. “You don’t want to wait too long. I hear entry-level jobs are in high demand.”

Amelia snickers along with Lisa who looks pleased with herself.

“That’s good advice.” You respond calmly.

“I’m sure my son will take good care of you,” John speaks for the first time, his eyes burning with a quiet disdain that settles at your gut. “Why go back to work at all?”

“She doesn’t have to.” Sam’s answer to quick and deliberate. He’s making a point. You’re none of his father’s concern and he doesn’t like that the old man has an opinion about his personal life. “There’s no reason for her to work unless she wants to.”

“Okay.” You try to redirect the conversation. “Do we want to spend all night talking about my career choices? I’d like to know more about what you do-”

“Well, I just want to say that I’m happy for you. Both of you.” Amelia tips her glass towards Sam before staring daggers at you. “It’s a fairy tale ending isn’t it?”

“I’d say.” Lisa joins. “A rags to riches sort of romance. It reminds me of that movie…you know the one with Julia Roberts.”

“Pretty Woman,” Amelia confirms, giggling. “Now that you mention it, I can see that.”

You want to crawl under the table.

Sam has no idea how to handle this. He’s an expert at dealing with his father, but he’s not sure how to navigate this social disaster happening right in front of him.

“Except she’s not a prostitute,” Rowena speaks up.

“Oh my God.” Lisa sputters, putting a hand over her heart as if she’s offended. “I never meant to imply that she was-”

“Oh, didn’t you?” Rowena looks at you with her unwavering stare.

“Will you please excuse me.” You force a smile, pushing your chair back from the table.

–

The moment the door to the bathroom shuts you lose all control of your emotions. You’ve never felt so embarrassed in all your life, but the worst of it is that you’re ashamed for who you are. No one, save for your parents, has ever made you feel like trash.

You want to be angry, but the truth is that you’re hurt. Utterly gutted. The tears sting your eyes before falling over your cheeks. A sob escapes your throat and you cover your mouth afraid that someone will hear you weeping in the bathroom like the weak person they assume you are.

There’s a knock at the door and you freeze, unable to speak without betraying your breakdown. There’s the shuffle of feet and a second rap.

“Let me in.” Sam’s voice instructs, twisting the handle only to find it locked. “Unlock the door.”

Pausing, you wipe futilely at wet cheeks and flip the lock.

When he pushes the door open the sight of you sends Sam’s heart to his stomach. You’re crying, red eyes leaking fat tears. You’ve got a hand over your stomach, trying to anchor yourself. At the sight of him, you clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the cry that escapes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed a minute.” Whispering and broken, you turn away from him.

“Come here.” Sam takes you by the arm, refusing to let go when you tug away. “I’m so sorry, baby. I had no idea it was going to be this bad.”

“I can’t go back out there.”

“You don’t have to. We’ll go home, right now.”

“I don’t think I could stand it.” You don’t mean for your voice to crack. You’ve held it together for this long, but Sam naturally disarms you. You turn away from him, covering your mouth as tears slide down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He mutters, turning you back to him.

Sam pulls you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your small frame and holding you tight as you cry into this chest. He’s pissed. You’re the one person he wants to protect at all costs, the last thing he wants is for you to be hurt. But anger isn’t what you need right now. The feeling of you shaking in his arm breaks his heart. You’d been nothing but gracious, biting your tongue as the entire evening became about backhanded comments.

“They’re just so…mean. Why? If being with you means I have to endure that once a week I don’t think I can.” You look up at him with such earnestly tears streaming down your face. Sam feels like he might throw up.

“I’m so sorry.” he pleads, taking your face in his hands and kissing you. “I’ll never put you through this again. My family, those people, they’re not important. You’re what I care about. Please don’t cry.”

Sam swallows your cries, his mouth covering your again and again until your body begins to overrule you mind, flipping switches as the Omega in you respond to his Alpha. His hands grip your hips, pulling you against him. A final tear falls down your cheek as his tongue snakes into your mouth, curling and tasting, muting any unwanted feelings.

His knees bend and you feel his hand snake under your dress and between your thighs. You part your legs for him out of pure instinct, hitching wide to give him all the access he wants. He grunts softly into your mouth as his long finger swipe over your sex, feeling the sticky lace that’s the only barrier between him and your pussy.

“You’re wet.” He murmurs, his mouth sucking at the skin just under your jaw. The truth is you’ve been wet since he claimed you.

“Take me home.” You whimper, your head falling all the way back as his mouth sends shivers down your spine.

“I want you right here.” Both his hands are under your dress, pulling your panties down far enough to give him what he wants, leaving them around your thighs. “Right now.”

“Someone is gonna hear us.” You pant.

He pulls back, turning you around and bending you forward over the edge of the sink.

“Good.” He grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to look into the mirror. He stares at your reflection and you meet his gaze.. Your eyes might be a little red but no one would ever know you were crying only moments ago. Your pupils are blown wide with lust, cheeks flush as your mouth hangs open. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful. You’re better than all of them put together and you’re mine.”

Sam’s meets your eyes, locking in a dead stare. He lets go of your hair and places both your hands on the counter, giving them a squeeze, his silent instruction to stay where he puts you. Reaching around he pulls down the neckline of your dress and the cups of your bra so that both your breasts are partially exposed, nipples puffy and hard as his licks his lips.

He pulls your hips back as you stick out your backside. He doesn’t have to tell you what comes next, you already know. You watch each other in the mirror, his eyes never leaving yours as he unbuckles his belt and unzips himself. You’re mesmerized, watching his eyelids fight the urge to close as he presses the swollen head of his cock against your pussy.

“Don’t close your eyes.” He commands, examining your expression as he slides inside. His cock stretches you wide, finding a familiar home deep in your aching channel until his balls rock forward and you feel every inch of his length. “So fucking tight every time.”

He pulls out all the way, leaving you trembling and empty but only for a moment before thrusting back in and burying himself to the root. You cry out, instantly horrified that the entire dinner table can hear you but Sam doesn’t seem the least bit phased.

“Tell me what I feel like inside you.” He grits, one hand reaching around to squeeze your breasts. His hips find a slow rhythm, fucking you deep and steady like he’s got all the time in the world.

You refocus on his eyes in the mirror, watching him watch you as you whimper and twist in pleasure, moaning like a whore.

“You feel big…and deep.” Sucking in a breath you watch as he fucks you from behind. “Sometimes I think you’re going to split me in two.”

Sam groans, fucking a little faster, seemingly pleased with your response.

“I can’t believe I can take all of you inside me, your cock’s so big.” He rewards your confession by grinding deep and holding himself there with the head of his shaft pressed against your cervix. Your eyes roll back into your skull, back arching as you fight to keep breathing. “Fuck Sam, Oh God. It’s too much.”

He doesn’t pull back, just lowers his head to your ear, whispering like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. Like you aren’t alone, locked in a bathroom together. “Have you ever been fucked this deep before Omega?”

“No.” You cry out, trying to move but you can’t. You’re trapped between his massive frame and the marble countertop.

“No what?” His hand in back in your hair, pulling your head back. His cock is unrelenting, your pussy stuffed to the brim as you tighten around him.

“No, Alpha.” Your eyes snap open, taking in the obscene sight of your bare tits arching forward as you squirm on his dick.

“And you’re mine, aren’t you?” He grits at the shell of your ear, still not moving, refusing to give you any relief. “Tell me.”

“Yes.” You hiss as it becomes a long, drawn out moan. “I’m yours. I belong to you, Alpha. Fuck, please just fuck me. It’s too deep like this, I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” He teases, easing out just an inch before pressing right back in to the hilt.

“I can’t take it.” Crying you twist against him, the width of his shaft pulling inside you. It hurts, but it’s a kind of pain that makes you want more. The idea that his cock is this deep and the feeling of him tapping your womb makes you gush around his cock. He really doesn’t need to do anything else, this is enough to send you over the edge. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Like this?” He asks, his tone evening out. He’s not teasing anymore, he’s genuinely in awe of how your body responds to him. Just like everything, he’ll store this information away for later. “You’re gonna come from taking my cock this deep?”

“Ahuh.” You nod, barely able to speak. Maybe it’s the sight of your breasts heaving with every breath or how strung out you look, desperate and writhing on his cock. Maybe he’s the sight of him taking you from behind, how big and dominate he looks standing there. But there’s a swell of carnal pleasure that’s building fast, as you pathetically try to move your hips.

Sam watches in near disbelief, your tight little pussy squeezing and sucking him. He’s not even fucking you, just pinning you against the bathroom counter buried balls deep in your cunt, unmoving and hard as steel as you have, what looks like, an earth-shattering orgasm. He can see the build-up, his beautiful Omega heaving, breathing faster and faster, pussy getting tighter and tighter and then your mouth falls open and your eyes clench shut and you’re cumming around him like he’s just sucked your clit.

“Don’t move.” You gasp, clutching his length inside you, milking his cock.

“You alright?” He whispers, leaning down to press his face against your cheek, still watching. You pant fast trying to catch your breath, hanging on to the counter as if your life depends on it.

“Yes.” Sucking in a breath you keep your eyes shut, still riding out your orgasm. Whatever this is, it’s making you painfully sensitive, your body reacting like it did the first night you were together like you haven’t reached your final plateau and the pleasure is still building.

He shifts behind you, inadvertently pulling out, just an inch, just enough that you feel the drag of his cock but it’s too much and you find yourself plunged into another orgasm, stronger than the first. There are no words, instead, you make a desperate noise, crying out and reaching behind you, trying to hang on to your Alpha as your whole body tightens.

Sam doesn’t wait this time, instead, he fucks you through it, thrusting in and out, pumping with long thrusts while your pussy contracts around him. It doesn’t take long, he comes like a kid on prom night. He barely manages to avoid knotting you in his parents’ bathroom, somehow finding the self-restraint to hold back.

You’re both out of breath, shaking and trembling. The swollen head of his cock is still in your cunt and his seed running down your thighs when there’s a knock at the door.

The handle begins to turn and Sam reaches out to grab it as you stare at each other in the mirror.

“Everything alright in there?”

[super-spearmint]

I Don’t Care if that makes me Gay (Mikey Way x Reader)

I walked down the corridor of my horrible school, thinking 'wow! I sure do love this place!'. I love waking up at 5:30 a.m. to see high school students doing drugs and making out in front of my locker. "School is a place that combines education and fun!" say the teachers. Yeah, I bet. More like "A place of mental, and possibly physical, abuse!" For me, the second statement was correct. I got good grades and all, but school was still very hard. Not to mention the bullying, either.

So, there I was walking down the corridor when one of my favorite people decided to join me. "Hey, dude. How's my favorite man doing today?" he snarled. Of course. My favorite bully. Kolbee.

He and his gang always tormented me on how I 'dressed like a guy' and 'how they all knew what was really between my legs'. Whether it was offensive name calling, or me being used as a literal punching bag, it always took its toll. When people heard that I was apparently transgender, all of my friends stopped talking to me, and no one would talk to me in general. Even teachers turned a cold shoulder to the prejudice happening.

Was I actually transgender? Yes.

Was I going to tell anyone? No.

I pushed past Kolbee and his laughing group of boys and girls to my locker. At least today they didn't decide to use me as a way to practice for boxing. Or so I thought.

The day was a drag so far, it was only third period and it felt like I had been here for hours. "So, when using the Pythagorean theorem, you..."

Blah, blah, blah. Math was so boring. I raised my hand. "Yes, Y/n." The teacher asked.

"Bathroom?" I requested. The teacher simply nodded. He seemed fed up at the fact that I had interrupted his extremely important lesson for my bodily needs, but my body needed to get out of that class.

I got up and took a slow walk to the bathroom. Little did I know someone, or should I say a group of someones, were following me. I went into the bathroom, and went to shut one of the stall doors when none other than Kolbee yanked it back and said, "not so fast."

"Get out!" I yelled, standing up. "This is a women's bathroom."

"Well, you're in here and you're not a woman." he snickered. The group of the three other boys he brought with him laughed along, too. "Speaking of, I think it's finally time to see what is really between those fat thighs of yours."

My eyes widened in fear as I realized what they were planning to do to me. I tried to scream, but one of his buddies clamped their hand over my mouth. Two of the other ones held me right where I was, making my struggling futile. Then, none other than Kolbee himself began to unzip my pants.

I was flailing like a fish out of water. My feet were banging loudly up against the stall doors, which then made loud echoes. "Hold her better," Kolbee said through gritted teeth.

I was praying that I wouldn't cry. I had a horrible urge to do so at the moment, but that was the last thing I needed right now. I continued to thrash around until one of my elbows collided with something that felt like a soft solid. Then, one of the boys screeched, falling to the ground and clutching his area in pure pain.

They weren't going to see what was between my legs without a little pain to theirs.

With my new found freedom, I pushed myself away from the other boy holding me down easily and went running out of the bathroom. "RAPE!" I began to yell as loudly as I could. "RAPE!"

I saw four other boys rush down the hallway. 'I'm so done for.' I thought. But, just as they reached me, they all charged into the bathroom and began to pummel the ones who were attacking me. A teacher came in quickly after that, sending the boys who were attacking me to the office, and made sure I was okay while the other four mystery boys waited out in the hallway.

By this point, the tears were flowing, no matter how hard I was trying to stop them. The teacher approached me. "Did they touch you?" she questioned.

I shook my head.

"Did they hurt you in any way?"

"I mean," I laughed nervously through the tears. "Probably emotionally, but the few bruises will heal in a week."

She took a deep breath, impatiently. "They will call you down to the office to ask you what happened." Then she got up and left. She just left. If those boys hadn't saved me, I would have been in only God knows what state, and she just left.

I sighed, then went out into the hallway, where the four boys rushed over. They seemed to care more than the teacher. One, with thick, curly brown hair was hugging me, while the other three asked if I was okay.

"Are you sure you're alright?" asked a lanky boy with awkward knees quietly.

I nodded. It was just as I had told the rude teacher; I was more emotionally hurt by the exchange than physically. I had always had a hard time coming to terms with how I actually felt about my gender, so coming to school every day and being bullied about it was hard for me. Especially for the fact I was also 'still in the closet', and wanted to tell someone what I was feeling badly.

I took in a large breath then exhaled, letting my back slide down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. Everyone was still in their classes at this point, so it was just the five of us in the hallway.

"I'm Gerard," said an average height boy with thick black hair. "And Frank, Ray, and my brother, Mikey." he finished, introducing the rest of the group. They all waved, except for Mikey who blushed when I looked at him. I smiled, nevertheless, and began to talk to the boys.

They were really nice, and I realized quite early on that they had good intentions and would never hurt me. They continued to comfort me and talk until I was called to the office to recount my side of the story.

~Frank sized time skip until after the office~

I noticed the boys waiting for me by the office doors. They rushed over.

"What happened? Are they getting expelled? If they're not I'll go in and give that principal a piece of my mind..." Frank asked frantically, cracking his knuckles.

"Yeah," I said, kind of dryly. "They are getting expelled."

They all sighed in relief. "Thank God," said Ray. We all continued to walk down the hallway. By this time, it was about ten minuted before the final bell would ring, so there was no use going to class. We decided to wait it out in the library.

"You know," Gerard said, breaking the silence as we walked through the library doors. "You could always hang out with us... we always noticed you were kind of- well, usually... alone."

"Thanks," I said. "And thanks for before. You don't even really know me and you still helped me."

Frank, Gerard, and Ray laughed. " And trust me, I think Mikey knows you," Ray said, through fits of laughter.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Why? Did we do a group project together..." I trailed off, thinking.

They continued to laugh. I looked over to Mikey to see he was reddening quickly. Mikey punched Frank in the shoulder, saying a muffled "shut up", only making everyone laugh harder.

"Go on," Ray said. "Tell her."

I looked Mikey who's eyes were wide, and his face red. "Well, I... well I kind of... a-a while ago b-but... but still, do k-kind of, maybe, have a... cru-crush on you?" he shut his eyes tightly.

As for me, my eyes went wide. Then I realized it was time.

Did I like Mikey? Yes.

Did he know I was transgender? No.

Would it be fair to be in a relationship with him when I fully know that I am transgender, and not tell him? No.

"Mikey," I started, biting my lip. "I am transgender. The rumors are true. I've never told anyone, but I believe that it would be unfair if I knew I was transgender and I didn't tell you. It would just feel like I was lying to myself, and to you. I understand that you won't want me anymore." I flinched.

Why did I do that, why did I do that, why did I do that, why did I do that, why-

"Why would I not like you?" Mikey asked, looking genuinely confused. I opened my eyes, beginning to tear up. "Becuase, if I think I'm a man, Mikey, that makes... it makes you g-gay."

I looked down at the ground, a single tear falling from my damp eyes. I could feel the eyes of all four boys burning into me. Just as I was about to turn and leave, I felt a hand under my chin. It tilted my face up and went around to the back of my neck.

In a raspy whisper, I heard his voice in my ear. "I don't care if it makes me gay."

Then, he kissed me.

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Up in the Air: Part 6

Book Two of That Healing Touch Series

By K.Darblyne

Pairing: Xena/Gabrielle

Rating: Mature

Synopsis: Garrett is five months in to her fellowship, and she and Danni are trying to change the game even more, all the while strengthening their bond. 

The last thing that Danni wanted to do was to leave Garrett’s side. Slowly she slipped her hand out of the surgeon’s as the car slowed to a stop in front of the Hospital.

Karen turned to view the occupants of the rear seat. "You two going to be alright to drive home?"

"Yeah, if you want I could drop you off at your door." Rosie chimed in. Her eyes searched the rearview mirror for any indication of acceptance to her proposal.

"No," Garrett cleared her throat. "I have to check on my patient. Thanks for the offer Rosie."

"Hey, Doc, I don’t care what they asked you today, we’re still friends, right?"

The surgeon nodded her head slowly and then got out of the car. She couldn’t stand to be confined by the vehicle any longer and needed to be out in the open, free without any constraints. Garrett got out and headed into the lobby of the building, so thought of as home.

"Thanks, Rosie." Danni scurried across the seat and stood outside the door, ready to close it. "She’s had a tough day. I think it’s going to take some time for her to get it all together again. I’ll get her home, don’t worry."

The nurse closed the rear door of the car and followed the surgeon’s path.

There was a moment or two of silence in the car before either of the women spoke.

Rosie rolled her eyes then whistled a few notes slightly off key. "So, do you think Garrett is gay?"

"The only one that can answer that is Garrett. How about I let you be the one to ask her?" Mom stared at the driver of the car, challenging her to cross paths with the already emotionally charged woman.

"ME?" Rosie grabbed tightly onto the steering wheel and began shaking her head. "Don’t make no difference to me. She’s not my type anyway."

"Didn’t think you were a fool either, Rosie." Karen winked. "Either way, our Doc’s in good hands with Danni." The older nurse pried herself out of the front seat and closed the door of the car. She waved as Rosie pulled out into the flow of traffic. ‘God, Danni, I hope you get the answer you’re looking for.’

***

Once inside the building, the old façade of the stoic surgeon was pulled in place. The air of arrogance that accompanied it was evident by the aggressiveness displayed in her walk. Reaching the information desk in the lobby, Garrett picked up the house phone and called directly into the Intensive Care Unit that she had admitted Chris to earlier that morning. After a few brief words with Chris’s nurse, the phone was replaced on its cradle and Garrett charted her course for the elevators.

"Gar, wait up!" Danni’s short legs worked double time in an effort do so. The nurse finally reached her as they stepped onto the elevator together. "Is Chris alright?"

Garrett nodded her response, keeping her thoughts to herself.

"I’m sorry for what happened today. You didn’t deserve to be verbally battered by that…" Danni found herself becoming embittered with her resentment of the defense lawyer. "Why I should have just…"

Garrett turned a weary eye at the nurse, "Danni getting yourself thrown out of court would have done nothing to stop him. I’m a survivor, don’t you know that by now?"

"But it didn’t make it right, what he did, I mean."

"No, I agree but it wouldn’t have stopped him either. He had a job to do, I was the one in his way." Garrett shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn’t matter anyhow."

"Doesn’t matter! Doesn’t matter, it matters to me and it should matter to you, too." The nurse was letting go of some pent up steam.

"It’s over, Danni." Blue eyes looked into green letting the calm after the storm penetrate the blonde. "It’s over." Her words were but a whisper that gave way to the sound of the elevator doors opening on the ninth floor and the tall woman stepped out onto the floor.

"Gar, I thought you were going to check on Chris?" Danni looked puzzled. "Isn’t she in the ICU on the Fifth floor?"

"Yes, but the best medicine in the world for her, is here on the Ninth Floor."

"Gar, pharmacy is on the…" Then it hit Danni. "This is the observation floor. You’re going to take Marie down to see her, aren’t you?"

The surgeon’s eyebrow rose. "I always thought that you were a smart nurse." Garrett let the corners of her mouth turn upward. "First I’m going to check her out and discharge her. Then, I’ll take her to see Chris."

The petite woman smiled. "Mind if I tag along?"

"No, not at all." The surgeon turned and started down the hall. "I was kind of hoping that you would."

Danni fell in step as they continued down the hall to Marie’s room. The blonde wondered what had gotten into the surgeon, but thought it best not to ask.

"You seem to have a pretty good rapport with her, perhaps you should go in first." Garrett stopped outside the door to Marie’s room. "I’ll go to the nurse’s station and get her discharged."

"Okay, but what should I tell her?"

"You’ll know what to say, you always do." Garrett let the lopsided smile come forth for the first time all day, then went about her duties, leaving Danni standing alone at Marie’s door.

Knocking gently first, Danni entered. "Hey!" She smiled at the woman sitting in the bed. "Care for a little company this evening?"

Marie’s face brightened immediately, seeing who it was. "Nurse Danni, come on in." She looked past the blonde and waited for a moment before speaking again. "You didn’t bring anyone with you? I was hoping you might."

"If you’re talking about Gar, I did. She’ll be in after she gets your discharge papers going."

"Discharge? I’m being let go?"

"Yeah, this is only a 23 hour observation unit. We kept you here just to make sure that nothing was missed last night. Besides, with the blood that you lost it was a good idea to keep an eye on you for a while." Danni studied the face of the older woman. Her hazel eyes darted back and forth in a worried motion. "Marie, is something wrong?"

"Nothing, really. It’s just that I didn’t want to be at home without Chris."

"Hmmm…I think that we might be able to get you in to see her. How’s that?"

"You could? That would be great." Her mood definitely perked up at the possibility of seeing her lover. "Will it be alright?"

"Gar, will make it alright." Danni winked and walked over to the closet in the room. "Let’s see about getting you dressed to leave. What do you say?"

The nurse opened the closet door revealing nothing but empty hangers. "Well, looks like you might just have to stay here until morning with nothing to wear but that "air-conditioned" gown."

"Okay, Marie. You’re all set to get out of here." Garrett came bounding into the room. She was excited about getting the two women back together. "I’ve taken care of the paperwork and all you’ll have to do is sign them."

"Thank you, when can I see Chris?" Marie got up off the bed in anticipation of leaving.

"Whoa, wait a minute. Let me get a wheelchair first." The surgeon motioned her to sit back down. "You lost a lot of blood yesterday, don’t go getting up that fast."

"I’ll be fine once I see Chris."

"Gar, we got a little problem here." Danni motioned toward the empty closet.

"Hmmm…I see." She thought for a moment then held up an index finger. "I’ll be right back." Then as fast as she said it, she was gone.

The nurse just shook her head in total amazement of her friend as a smile slowly stretched across her face.

"She is a beautiful woman. You’re very lucky to have her as a friend." Marie sat watching Danni begin to blush.

"Well, she is fun to be around when there’s nothing pressing that needs her attention."

"I can see that. Well, speak of the devil."

Garrett entered the room with a set of O.R. Scrubs in her hand. "Well, they’re not a brand name, but at least you won’t feel a draft." She handed them over to Marie. "I took a guess on the size. If they don’t fit, I’ll…"

"Thank you, I’m sure that they will be fine." She held them up and measured them against her body. "Yep, couldn’t have picked better if I did it myself." Marie headed toward the bathroom. "I’ll go change."

Danni waited until Marie had closed the door before she pulled Garrett toward the hall. "Gar, I think she really doesn’t want to leave without Chris."

The surgeon puckered her lips and thought for a moment with her index finger tapping on them. "I have an idea. Let me go check out Chris myself. I’ll meet you two up there."

"Okay, but what are you going to do?"

"You’ll see." The tall surgeon winked and took off down the hall.

***

By the time that Danni had wheeled Marie to the ICU, a good twenty minutes had passed since she last set eyes on the surgeon. Stopping at the entrance to the ICU, the nurse picked up the courtesy phone and spoke to the nurse at the desk. Marie watched as Danni’s brow crinkled with lines as she listened to the voice over the receiver.

Starting to worry, the newly released patient fidgeted in her seat. "What’s wrong? Is something wrong with Chris?" The woman’s voice was full of concern.

"No, it seems that Dr. Trivoli thinks that it’s time to move Chris out of the ICU." Danni hung up the phone. "She’s in there ordering everybody around to get your friend moved. They want us to wait and accompany Chris to her new room."

"That’s good isn’t it?"

"Very good." Danni smiled and patted the woman’s shoulder.

No more than ten minutes passed by when the automatic doors of the ICU sprang into action. Danni instinctively pulled Marie’s wheelchair out of the way, knowing what to expect from the demanding surgeon. Marie’s mouth dropped open at the sight. There, pushing the bed herself was Garrett Trivoli. Her mouth spouted off orders as she moved ever-forward stopping for nothing and no one in her path. Danni hid her eyes and chuckled at the sight of the Charge Nurse from the ICU running after her, demanding to know want kind of medicine couldn’t be given in her ICU. The blonde nurse just shook her head as she listened to the surgeon’s reply.

"I told you before," Garrett’s strong voice bellowed, "it can’t be given in your ICU and I’m taking her to someplace that it can."

"I’ll…I’ll…" the flustered nurse was becoming winded.

"You seem to forget who the doctor is here. It’s me and I’m doing what is best for my patient. End of story." Garrett stopped only long enough to cast an evil eye at the ensuing nurse. "Do I make myself clear?" The surgeon’s eyebrow rose nearly into her hairline.

The Charge Nurse skidded to a stop. "Clear, yes, perfectly clear, Doctor Trivoli." She turned around and headed back into the unit, muttering as she did.

"I heard that, Nurse." The surgeon yelled over her shoulder. "The "R" for my middle initial does not stand for Royalpainintheass."

Danni and Marie could hear a muffled scream coming from the unit as the doors closed sealing the unit off from the outside world and found it impossible to keep from laughing.

"She is a card, I’ll say that."

Danni smiled, nodding her head as she started to follow the surgeon and bed ahead of her. "That, she is."

***

The reuniting of the couple was a tender scene to watch as each one greeted the other with whispered words and loving touches. Marie stood, bending over to give a gentle kiss to Chris’s forehead then sat back down letting her hand nestle into her lover’s hand. Just the idea of them being together was the best medicine of all for the both of them. Their faces brightened and the worry lines eased from around Marie’s eyes. They were home with each other and that was exactly what they both needed.

"Chris, you look so pale, I…"

"Now, Marie, you start that babying me and I’ll get Dr. Trivoli to take me back to that ICU." The skinny woman in the bed winked at her lover. "I understand that it was your fault that I got the best damn surgeon in the building to work on me. Thanks, Marie." Her voice softened and she brought Marie’s hand to her mouth and placed a gentle kiss upon it. "I love you."

Marie stood there like a schoolgirl and blushed at the blatant display of affection. The words were as welcome as the touch of her lover.

Garrett and Danni stood by the door mesmerized by the scene that they had brought about. Finally, Danni whispered, "Chris seems to be looking better already."

"Yeah, I guess that handholding is the best medicine that I could have ordered for her." Garrett moved her hand to Danni’s and squeezed it gently. "Providing that it’s with the right person, of course."

The nurse looked up at the tall surgeon and smiled. "You’ve got that right." Danni returned the squeeze with one of her own and turned for the door. "Let’s give them their privacy."

Garrett nodded and followed the blonde, closing the door after they were out. "I’ll just tell the nurses that if Chris needs anything, she’ll ask for it."

"Good idea." Danni winked. "I’ll meet you at the elevator."

The nurse couldn’t believe what she had felt. ‘Was that Garrett who just squeezed my hand or was I just imagining it?’ Either way, it sure felt nice.

***

Danni followed Garrett as they each drove their own cars home. Between the rush hour traffic and the events of earlier that day, sleep was a much-needed thing. The nurse noticed the tired look on the surgeon’s face as she opened the front door of the house to enter.

"Gar, you’re looking really tired. Why don’t you get some sleep? You know, you didn’t get more than a couple of minutes last night at the hospital."

The tall woman smirked then nodded. "You going to tuck me in, too?" It was a feeble attempt at humor.

"Yeah, I might just do that." She feigned swatting the surgeon’s behind stating, "Now off to bed with you. I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in."

"Yes, mom." The tired surgeon pulled her body up the stairs one at a time using the railing to help her. "I’ll brush my teeth, too!" She teased.

Danni grabbed the mail from the box and closed the door. Sorting through it she noticed that most of it was for Garrett. "Hmm…interesting." She put them on the desk and took her coat off.

"Okay young lady, I’m coming up to check on you." Danni announced as she started up the staircase. "You better be in bed and fast…" By this time Danni was standing at Garrett’s wide open door. The woman was stretched out across her bed still completely dressed, but deep in slumber. "Asleep," she whispered. Walking into the bedroom, Danni took the ends of the comforter and covered her tall friend. Bending over, she lightly kissed the tension-lined forehead and whispered, "Sleep well, Gar." ‘I love you.’

Danni walked back to the doorway and leaned up against its framework. ‘How could anyone think you to be a monster of any sort? Why, if he was here right now…’ The nurse thought about what she would do to the weasel of a man who thought himself to be some god-brandishing hypocrite. She’d seen his type before. They do anything to get their clients off, no matter whose reputation they destroyed.

She watched the gentle giant sleeping and her mind began to relive the courtroom all over.

"Doctor, before that unruly outburst, you stated that you don’t have a problem with men, is that correct?"

Garrett glared at the attorney for his jab at her friend’s behavior. "Yes." Her voice was strong and vibrant now. The glass of water that she had found during the chaos helped her immensely.

"Doctor, if you don’t have an issue with men, then are you currently in a relationship with a man?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" The District Attorney stated.

The Defense Attorney smiled at the Judge. "Your Honor, it is my intention to show a pattern that will indicate that the witness does have a problem with men."

"The objection is over-ruled." The Jurist turned a wary eye to the Defense Attorney. "But, Mr. Hanington, don’t stray too far."

"That won’t be an issue, Your Honor." The attorney replied smiling cockily at the jurors. Turning back to the witness, the well-manicured man asked. "Do you have somebody that you date occasionally, say a boyfriend, Dr. Trivoli?"

"I don’t really have much free time for relationships." Garrett glared at him wondering what right he had to pry into her life. She wasn’t the one on trial.

"NO?" He looked puzzled for a moment, and then a look of revelation came over his face. "Are you married?"

"I object, Your Honor, relevance?" The quick voice of the District Attorney could be heard.

"The objection is again over-ruled. We have to give the Defense the opportunity to prove the point he stated that was his purpose for questioning the witness."

The Defense Attorney was getting smug. "Doctor, please answer the question. Are you married?"

"No."

"Doctor, is there ANYONE in your life now? Are you perhaps living with someone?"

The look on Garrett’s face indicated that she was taken aback by the question. She eyed the blonde in the back row. "Yes, I currently share a house with a friend."

"Have you slept with your ‘FRIEND’?"

The surgeon paled at the question, it was as if she was struggling to answer the question. "Yes, we have shared a bed if that is what you mean."

"So, Doctor," he strolled over to the jury box, "is your FRIEND a man," he adjusted his tie, "or a woman?"

"A woman, but it’s not the way you are implying." Garrett gazed at Danni while she was answering the question.

The blonde woman thought about the look she’d seen on Garrett’s face when their eyes had met for that brief second or two, it was almost apologetic for some reason. ‘No use in speculating, Danni, it’s her past and you weren’t part of it.’ Her mind drifted back to the courtroom.

"Doctor, what is it exactly that you think I am implying?" He looked, at her wide-eyed and innocently.

"It appears, sir, that you are implying that we were intimate, which isn’t the case. We were stranded at a ski lodge due to the weather. There was only one room left, and it had only one bed."

"Thank you Doctor, but it appears that you are rather defensive on this issue. Have you ever been in intimate contact with one of your ‘FRIENDS’?"

"Only as far as giving one a massage after a particularly hard day at work."

"Let’s be honest here, shall we? Isn’t it true that the real reason you aren’t in a relationship with a man is because you don’t WANT to be with a man?"

"No!" Garrett let her eyes dart between the two attorneys. "As I stated before I don’t have time for ANY relationship right now with my career."

"Career, yes, your career…" he thought out loud as he planned his next attack. "Doctor, do you think that the so-called ‘Glass Ceiling’ actually exists?" He smiled coyly at the jury stand. "You do know what I’m talking about don’t you?"

"Yes, that women only rise to the point of the ‘Glass ceiling’ in the workplace while men continue to rise above it."

"Why is that?" The Defense Attorney slowed his step and looked directly at her.

"It seems that there continues to be the ‘Good Ol’ Boys Network’ in play for all areas of the workforce."

"Does that bother you, Dr. Trivoli?"

"Of course it bothers me."

"Isn’t it because you feel that men are held in higher esteem than women?"

"To a certain extent, yes."

"Isn’t that the reason you got the position of Flight Surgeon on your deployments to sea? They thought that by the sound of your name that you were a male."

"I didn’t make that decision."

"But you did make the decision to ask for the Rape Kit, because you felt that this was a way to get back at a man, for all the injustice that happens to women. Didn’t you?"

"No!" The surgeon was distraught, her hand playing nervously with the contents of her pocket.

"Your Honor, I object to this line of questioning. The Defense has yet to get to his point."

"The objection is sustained. You have had plenty of time to make your point, Mr. Hanington, that’s enough. Either move on or dismiss the witness."

"Your Honor, I will only be questioning this witness for a short time longer."

"Mr. Hanington, this is your final warning." The Judge settled back into his chair, his eyes stern and full of admonition.

"Yes, Your Honor." The Defense Attorney turned to the witness. "Isn’t the real reason you left the Navy because you couldn’t stand the fact that it was predominantly men?"

Garrett smiled slowly. "I never left the service, sir. I’m still an active member of the U.S. Navy for the next two years." The twinkle in her eyes danced in delight as she leaned her elbows on the railing of the witness stand and rested her chin in her hand waiting for his reaction.

The Defense Attorney looked like a deer in front of headlights. He was in shock. Defeated by his own line of questioning, he swallowed hard. "No more questions for this witness."

The Judge smiled at the witness. "You are excused."

Sighing, Danni shook her head. "If looks could have killed, I think both of us would be up for murder right now, Gar." She thought aloud in a hushed tone, not wanting to disturb the sleeping woman. ‘How does he know what you are like. I do. I’d trust my life in those hands of yours a million times over.’

Lost in her dream of Garrett’s hands, Danni jumped when she heard the sound of the ringer on the phone. Racing down the stairs, she grabbed it on the end of the second ring, not wanting the sleeping woman to be disturbed.

"Hello," she hoarsely whispered.

"Danni, are you feeling alright? Are you sick?"

"Brie! No, I’m fine…well, actually I’m a little sick to my stomach right now but I’m getting used to that. Why do you ask?"

"Your voice, why is it so hoarse?"

"I was…a little vocal at the court case today. I must have…"

"Court case? What court case?"

"Brie, nothing for you to get worried about. It was a case that Garrett got summoned to. It was a rape trial."

"Rape trial? Was it someone you know?"

"No, a patient that we worked on together. They really grilled Garrett though. You would have thought Gar was the one charged with rape the way the questioning was directed from the defense attorney."

"Danni, it was good that you were there for support. That sounds like it was some kind of hell."

"Yeah, well, it still plagues us now. We were up all night with a disaster and Gar was in surgery until the early hours of the morning. It didn’t leave much time for us to sleep." Danni let her voice trail off. "Sis, was there any reason why you called?"

"Oh, I was…was going to be in town tonight and I thought that maybe I could meet that surgeon of yours."

"Gee, Brie, I don’t know. Gar is sacked out across the bed too tired to even get in it. Another time might be better." Danni sighed. "This court thing really got us both pretty beat."

"Danni, you are taking care of yourself, aren’t you. I mean, you don’t want to be losing any weight right now."

"No way, Sis. I’m starting to fill out that Flight Suit quite nicely. I’ve been getting enough exercise to carry those few extra pounds of muscle that I’ve picked up since I teamed up with Garrett."

There was silence on Brie’s part as she thought of what few extra pounds her sister might be talking about. ‘The baby or certain parts of Garrett’s anatomy?’

"Hey, Brie. I think I really need to sit down and rest for a while, I’ve been on the go for the last 36 hours or so."

"Danni, get off your feet and rest. You take care of yourself and Garrett, too, mind you."

"Sure, Sis. Talk to you soon. Bye."

"Bye!" Brie hung up the phone. "I’ve really got let Mother know about Danni’s situation otherwise, she’s going to have a bird getting two grandchildren in the same year. Good thing I’m meeting her for lunch next week. This may go over better in person." Brie rubbed her own extended stomach. "Yes, my little one, you’ll have a cousin your same age. I can’t wait to see Mother’s face when she finds out that her precious Danni is going to give her everything that she wants…but in the wrong order." There was a gleam in the pregnant woman’s eye with that thought. "I’ll be your favorite for sure then."

***

Garrett woke up with the weirdest sensation that she had ever had. She felt like a mummy that had been left out of its tomb, alone, after it was sealed. Ready to fight the material that surrounded her, she slowly found her freedom from the confining wrap. With one eye opened, she looked for something that would tell her where she was. It was dark, darker than most mornings when she got up. Then she saw the illuminated digital readout of the alarm clock. It was 2300. She was nowhere close to morning, yet her body was telling her that she’d slept long enough.

Letting her fingers sweep over her body she realized that she was still fully dress, sans her shoes. "Damn! I must have been so tired that I didn’t even get changed." She rolled over and pushed herself up off the bed, scanning the nightstand for her beeper. "I wonder if…" fumbling with the beeper she found that it was still turned off. ‘I guess that wasn’t what woke me then. I wonder if Danni told them we were available for flights? Guess not!’ The surgeon flopped back on the bed. "I’m up now. Guess I’ll go call us back in service." She sat up and let her legs slide over the edge, then down onto the floor. The carpet felt good under her stocking feet as she made her way into the hall.

‘Looks like Danni is still awake, the light’s on in her room.’ Garrett touched the door lightly with the back of her knuckles and it opened slightly. Shrugging at the door, she pushed it more fully open and stuck her head in. "Danni?" She spoke softly. "Danni, did you…" She stopped and peered in at the sleeping woman who was sprawled under the covers, her fingers tightly clenching onto her journal. "I guess you didn’t."

It was a beautiful sight, the petite woman looking more like a child than anything, lost in the confines of the queen size bed. ‘It didn’t seem that big the other night when I slept in it with her.’ Garrett thought about how good it felt to wake up beside this woman the next morning. It was almost like she had done it hundreds of times before. It was such a natural thing to do.

‘Mom, is this what you were laughing about when you told me all those pot o’gold stories when I was a kid?’ Garrett wished she could turn back the hands of time and have her mother here to guide her. Just this one time she wished for someone else’s wisdom to guide her life. It was so easy when she was a child. You just did what you were told. But now, as an adult, no one told you how to live, you had to do that for yourself. And contrary to her beliefs as a child, those decisions didn’t get any easier with age. In fact, they just got more complex and compounded by the reaction that they would have on the world around you.

How could she give up her friendship with Danni in the hopes of having something more? She knew the friendship was strong but would it be strong enough to withstand an invitation for love on a higher plane? Especially if that was not what Danni was after.

Then her mind began to wonder. ‘Could I still be friends with her if she didn’t want to pursue that type of relationship?’ She thought of David and the gnawing pain that she felt each time that she pictured the two of them together. No, to Garrett Trivoli, the names of Danni and David did not belong in the same sentence let alone the same lifetime together.

The surgeon entered the room and crossed the floor to the side of Danni’s bed. She stared down at the woman sound asleep, gauging the space left in the bed. ‘There’s enough room. I could just lie down beside her and…’ Garrett shook her head and let a lung full of air escape out of her mouth. ‘What are you thinking, Trivoli. Don’t be stupid.’

She picked up the journal from Danni’s hand and tucked the covers around the young woman’s body. "Night, my friend," she whispered and smoothed out a stray lock of hair on the blonde’s forehead. Turning to the nightstand, she flipped over the journal and started reading the lines on the page where Danni had left off before sleep overtook her.

The two bodies seemed to morph from one into two and then back again. Each time, a little more of one became part of the other until after a while they could no longer be seen as two distinct people but rather only as one soul, housed in two bodies.

Garrett set the book down, but the words kept running through her head. Her blue eyes drank their fill of the woman in the bed. The surgeon started taking stock of herself and how much she had changed in the last eight months since meeting Danni. It seemed to be funny, as she was changing, so was the nurse who now took chances that she would have walked away from before. The surgeon looked back to the journal and the words came to haunt her again. ‘No longer be seen as two distinct people but rather only as one soul…’

Wasn’t that what they had become when they responded to a call for assistance? The Flight Team was the embodiment of their soul and even though they were two distinct people, they acted more like a single unit with one mind.

Garrett closed her eyes, trying to calm her fast-paced mind. She felt like the walls were going to crash right in on her. It was time to get out into the open and let her mind think about the whole thing without being pressured. Without the woman that tormented her soul being so close at hand. The surgeon turned off the light on the nightstand and let the light from the hall be her guide away from this Garden of Eden that was so ripe for the taking.

***

The nurse stirred as she heard the sound of the front door closing and the locks clicking into place. Gazing over at her bedside clock, Danni saw that it was only 2330. She put her head back down on her pillow and began to burrow into it when the sound of Garrett’s Blazer being started made her sit up. Leaving her bed and looking out the window, Danni could just make out the set of taillights as they drove off down the street.

The young woman sat back down on the bed, her heart sinking with the pain that her friend must be in. "Please, keep her safe and help her to weather this storm," she prayed to any deity that would listen. "Let her eyes be opened to what is in my heart. But most of all, let her find what is true and right in her own." ***

Driving around aimlessly in the night, the surgeon found herself at the one place that she always considered as her domain. She was the authority figure here and that never changed. It was one world of hers that had not been rocked by the turmoil she now was confronted with.

Throwing her Blazer into park, she jumped out, leaving the vehicle haphazardly placed in one of the on-call spaces right outside the door to the E.R. Striding with an air of purpose in her steps, Garrett breezed by the waiting room and the nurse’s station on her way to nowhere. She needed time to think, and people, well, they would only get in the way and confuse her all the more. The surgeon made her way to where she always thought the best, the O.R.

Changing into a set of scrubs, she stepped into the first empty surgical theatre and just let the aura of the room seep into her being. She thought about her many hours spent in rooms just like this one and all the patients that had benefited from her skills, her confidence in her own judgement. From that first simple appendectomy when she was just a budding Medical Student, to the woman she had worked on the night before where all of her experience was needed to keep her alive. What would they think of her now if they were privy to her mind? If only there was someone that she could talk to. Then it dawned on her. Perhaps it was time to check in on her patient, Chris.

***

Garrett stopped in at the nurse’s station, taking time to check Chris’s chart. She made every effort to act more like a doctor than she could admit her mind was presently capable of. The few minutes that she spent perusing the chart afforded her the time to muster her courage for what she intended to do. With a steady gait and a determined purpose, the surgeon strode to the patient’s room, where she knocked first before entering.

The short curly ringlets of hair stood every which way on the head of the woman in the bed. Her thin wiry build gave her a comical cartoon look.

Garrett was nearly to the bed before her eyes opened and she greeted her savior. "Hey, Doc. Thought only those students keep these late hours. You didn’t have someone up in the O.R. did you?"

Garrett shook her head. "No, just came in to check on you." The surgeon fiddled with the I.V. line acting as if it was customary for her to do so. "Besides, I didn’t want anyone else to come in her and disturb you and Marie."

"Hmmm…sounds to me like you got some things weighing on your mind." Chris watched Garrett’s expression as it changed to one of almost startled disbelief. "I guess that just goes with the job, though. Don’t it?"

The surgeon cleared her throat. "Ah…yes, I believe it does." She smiled weakly and then motioned to Chris’s abdomen. "Mind if I take a look while I’m here?"

"Heck, Doc, you know me inside and out." She giggled and looked over to the sleeping form of Marie in the chair next to her. "Almost as good as her, except she’ll tell you that she don’t know me at all sometimes." The thin lips of the patient pressed together and formed into a smile.

"I guess that comes from living so closely with someone. My friend says that she seems to know me better than I know myself, then out of the blue I do something that completely baffles her." Garrett drew in a breath. "Say, Chris, how did you and Marie ever get together? You seem so different from each other."

"I just held my breath and waited her out. I wasn’t the kind to strike up a conversation. I guess she knew it, too. It took her nearly a whole month before she spoke those first words to me."

"What were they, something philosophical?"

Chris looked over at Marie and stroked her hair. "No, she asked me what I was using for bait."

"Bait?" Garrett raised her eyebrow in response. "Was she referring to you cologne or your style of dress?"

"Neither, I was sitting out in the morning sun with my feet dangling over the edge of the wharf with a fishing pole in my hand." They both smiled at each other for a moment while Chris waited for the next question from the surgeon.

"Was it love at first sight or did you have to think about it for a while?"

"Hmm…now that’s a tough one. In my heart, I think it always was love, even before we talked. Now, my head, well let’s just say that I could have known her more closely for a lot longer if I’d listened to my heart."

"You’d choose going with your heart, then?"

"Every time! It has a funny way of knowing what it needs."

"Then you never regretted…"

"Life’s too short for regrets, Doc." The thin woman motioned to her own body. "Look at me. I don’t regret you being here yesterday. Why should you regret something that reaches out and acts like a life preserver?"

"Life preserver? I’m not following you."

"Love, Doc, love. It can get you through the low times and help to keep you grounded when the world keeps pushing you higher." She winked and nodded toward Marie. "She’s my anchor. Keeps me from running aground in high seas, and stands waiting for me like a homing beacon when I’m running off on a tangent."

Garrett cleared her throat as she made an attempt to look at the incision site. "Well, that seems to be healing nicely." The surgeon hoped that Chris would welcome the change of subject. "Maybe in a day or so we might be able to get you two home. What would you say to that?"

"Grateful, that’s what I’d say. Truly grateful."

Garrett smiled and put the bandages back in place. "Thanks, Chris. You’ve been a wonderful patient to take care of. You and Marie, both."

"Well, it wasn’t our doing to be in here but I’m glad that if I had to, it was you and that little blonde nurse…"

"Danni." The surgeon smiled just saying her name.

"Yeah," she smiled, "Danni took care of us. Marie was telling me about how you each stood watch over us last night. I appreciate that."

"I only do it for special patients, you know." Garrett winked and laughed with the older woman. "Thanks for talking to me. I’m going to think about what you said."

"Don’t mention it, Doc. You’re a good woman. I’m sure that you’ll know what’s right if you just follow your heart."

"You," the surgeon pointed directly at Chris, "get some sleep now." Garrett patted her hand. "I’m going to go listen to my heart."

The surgeon stepped away from the bed and out the door leaving the two women to bask in the love that had filled their hearts years ago.

***

The chilly air of the predawn hours did wonders to clear Garrett’s head as she got into her Blazer. It was always darkest before the dawn and the surgeon was hoping that with the rise of a new day, her last twenty-four hours would be her darkest for years to come.

Perhaps it was the quiet of the late night hour or the solitude but Garrett could sense that things were going to become easier for her, especially after talking to Chris.

She turned the key in the ignition and put it into gear as she charted her course for home. ‘I’ll call command when I get home and tell them to put us back on as of 0700. Danni needs the rest.’ It amazed her, how many times she thought about the nurse lately. It seemed to be the one thing that she honestly could say was a constant in her life.

"Okay, Trivoli, now all you’ve got to do is listen to your heart. Well, that’s as soon as you find it."

The tall surgeon pulled out into the sparse traffic and headed home, still searching for her pot o’gold.

Chapter 10

With the warm weather moving into the area sooner than usually anticipated, the Flight Crew was being utilized more and more. The gentle rains of April had moved into the picture making the roadways hazardous to drivers of all skill levels. There was hardly a day that the helicopters didn’t fly and the number of their call outs was increasing drastically.

Danni found herself pressed for time to even take care of the mandatory things in life like shopping for groceries, house chores, and keeping up with her nursing journals let alone the things that she thought she needed to do. It was playing on her mind, ever since the court case in March that she needed to talk to David. She’d finally made her mind up and wanted to take care of some things before she would feel comfortable to move on in the direction that she had chosen. The several attempts to get in touch with David never seemed to pan out. She’d call him and leave messages at his apartment and the hospital but in like manner, his replies ended up the same way. Talk about playing phone tag with someone, but this was getting down right ridiculous.

With all of the technology present in the year 2001, you’d think that it would be easier. The life style that each party had was a major contributor to their own unavailability. The nurse had often thought of using the computer and sending him E-mail, but never liked the idea of using it for something as delicate an issue as this. Besides, it just wasn’t her style. She was more a "look-you-in-the-eye" kind of person when things of this importance needed to be discussed. It had always been her trademark. Danni would just have to wait for the next time she could get a day off and drive herself down to West Virginia. Once there, she’d let David know exactly where he stood in her life and in her heart. There would be no more time for misconceptions if she were to try to do what her heart was telling her to do. June would be here soon enough and she still wasn’t sure what Garrett was thinking of doing come the first of July when her year of Fellowship would be over.

Danni thought about her tall, raven-haired friend. She seemed more contemplative now than before. It was as if she was weighing a great choice in her mind. Perhaps it was what to do with the next year, or where to go with her career. The only thing that the nurse prayed for was that somehow, someway, she would be a part of it. Most of the Residents and Fellows at the hospital were talking about where they would be working come the first of July, but Garrett hadn’t said a word. She’d never even mentioned it in any way. It was as if she only existed for that day, that Flight, and the rest would take care of itself when it got there.

The nurse looked at the stack of envelopes with Garrett’s name on them. What had started as only one or two in February was now adding up to a large handful. She could only speculate what they were about, since the surgeon had chosen not to even open them and read what they were offering her. Danni fanned through the handful of sealed letters letting the return addresses flash before her eyes. It amazed her that so many large institutions wanted a shot at Dr. Garrett Trivoli.

Now what would it take to entice her to stay? Danni knew what she was willing to throw into the pot, but would that make the surgeon stay on here in Pittsburgh or run like hell to get as far away as possible? The surgeon could name her price anywhere she wanted to go, but could she possibly find what she really needed away from Danni? These were all questions that the nurse knew were soon to be answered, whether she liked it or not.

Putting the stack of envelopes back where they belonged, she climbed the stairs to bed, wondering if they’d even get to sleep until morning before they would once again be summoned with a call for help.

***

The clock read 0202 when the sound of the beeper woke the surgeon. Throwing back the covers, she sat up and scrubbed her face trying to get the sleep from her eyes. She picked up the pager and read the alphanumeric read-out on the display screen. The cryptic wording only added to the puzzle. "MVA – Man in Tree." "What the hell?" She pushed off the bed and started getting her Flight Suit on. "Danni!" The surgeon opened her door and yelled out into the hall as she rounded the corner to the bathroom. "Danni, we’ve got a flight. Time to get up."

Garrett closed the door in what seemed like seconds later. Then, the sound of a flush could be heard, followed by running water. She came out of the bathroom zipping up her suit as the sleepy-eyed blonde opened her door.

"I’m coming, I’m coming. I don’t know why we just don’t sleep in these suits anymore." She grumbled as she crossed the hall to the bathroom.

"Because they’re too hard to get off to go to the bathroom." Garrett yelled back as she picked up the phone to call into the command center.

"Oh, yeah, right!" Danni picked up the pace as she went about her abbreviated ritual that she had begun calling the "splash and dash routine." She had it worked out to a precise method. While seated on the commode, she would splash the water on her face from the sink and dry it with a towel helping to wake her up. Stepping into her Flight Suit she would pull it on, zipping it up and then wash her hands. Stepping into her boots at the bottom of the stairs, she would quickly tie the laces and dash to the already warmed Blazer with Garrett ready at the wheel.

The drive at this time of night was a quick one and within ten minutes they were standing at the helipad waiting to be met. The wash of debris-filled air picked up the closer the helicopter hovered to the pad. Protecting their eyes, the Flight Team waited patiently for the craft’s skids to touch down.

With the go-ahead signal from the pilot, Danni and Garrett scurried under the whirling blades of the helicopter toward the door. The surgeon quickly released the handle, opening it and the nurse entered and took her seat. Once Garrett was onboard with the door shut, Danni was alerting the pilot that they were preparing for take-off. The ease with which the surgeon maneuvered her tall body in the tight quarters of the ship always amazed the nurse. Her friend could be in the ship, and buckled in her seat within seconds.

"One of these days, you’re going to have to show me how you do that."

"Do what?" The surgeon looked surprised.

Danni shook her head, "Nothing, don’t worry about it." The nurse held her thumb up and the surgeon copied it for the pilot to see. They were lifting off.

Cowboy had made the quick ascent that was his usual approach to any of the trips when he rode with the Flight Team. He had already charted out the trip and was ready to convey any information that he had to the women in the back. "Morning, ladies. We’ve got to quit meeting like this or some people are going to think that the three of us have a thing going." He laughed casting a wayward eye over his shoulder to catch their reaction.

But there was none, the women were busy doing the preflight checklist of drugs and equipment. They could do it in their sleep that’s how often they were being called out. As a matter of fact, they had only been off of the ship for three hours this last time. They were beginning to have the look of drones as they went through the motions.

"We’ll be there in about twelve minutes." Cowboy warned them, then turned his attention to the sky ahead.

Any minute that could be, was used for sleep and if it was going to take twelve minutes to get to the scene, then that meant at least 10 minutes of snooze time. Garrett was used to the sporadic segments of sleep. It was a part of her training with long hours on call and surgeries to all hours of the morning. It was just like an old shoe that felt comfortable when you slipped it on. She folded her arms over her chest and set her head to a comfortable tilt, ready for sleep.

The nurse just watched, amused at how quickly the snores would come from the body of the surgeon. It amazed her to no end that anyone could just decide to go to sleep that fast. Danni sighed, looking out the window at the darkness of the night. She was one, that unless her petite body was exhausted, the comforts of bed would be the only place for her to sleep. Randomly the nurse let her eyes stray, finding herself gazing on the restful form in the seat opposite her.

"Rise and shine, ladies! Looks like every darn emergency vehicle in the county is parked down there." Cowboy shook his head. "Looks like a bad one, Doc."

That was all she needed. The simple sound of a voice stirred her out of her state of sleep. The surgeon rolled her head and stretched, trying to work out the kinks before they touched down. Having done all that she could to limber her tired and sore body, she waited for the craft to land.

"Have a good nap?" Danni smiled.

"You get used to it after a while. You know, you should really try it sometime."

"Not my style," the nurse giggled, "bed, covers, something warm, soft and plush to cuddle up to, that’s what I need."

Garrett looked at her kind of strangely, then slightly shook her head. "I don’t remember seeing you with any stuffed animals in bed."

Danni just smirked, thinking to herself. ‘I guess not when you’re the something warm, soft and plush to cuddle up to.’ "I guess you will just have to look a little harder the next time you see me in bed."

"Hmmm…I just might have to." Garrett let the corners of her mouth turn up as she allowed her eyes to gaze into Danni’s.

"Whoa, doggies, look at that!" The pilot was amazed at what he was viewing. "Doc, Danni, look out your window back there. You ain’t going to believe this one."

Garrett craned her neck trying to see out the window to the scene below. "I can’t see anything but a red glow."

"Gar, that glow is coming from all the vehicles down there. Where’s the…" Danni moved trying to find the best view of the unfolding rescue below. "Jeez, I hope they don’t expect us to get to him there."

"What?" The surgeon stretched trying to see.

"I don’t think I’m up for this one." The nurse mumbled in amazement.

"I’m starting descent." Cowboy informed his crew. "We’ll be on the ground in less than a minute."

"Where? What?" The surgeon was puzzled at her friend’s mumbled thought. "Danni, give me some idea of what we’re going into here."

"You’ve got to see this one for yourself."

The helicopter landed outside the ring of emergency vehicles. Cowboy had done his job well positioning the craft in such a way as to have the doors for the patient compartment in direct line with the scene. Garrett was pleased with his timesaving effort for the loading and liftoff but slightly miffed that she still had no idea of what they were walking into once she threw open the doors of the crew compartment.

Loaded with gear, Danni got up from her seat and waited patiently for the strong arm of the surgeon to open the door. Throwing the handle to release the locking mechanism, Garrett slid the door open and emerged to her first sight of the precarious rescue.

There, perched halfway up a huge tree, was the small compact vehicle. From the looks of the scene, the car had gone off the road at the top of the hill were it curved to the left and by some unknown force, became airborne, thus landing in the tree. By the looks of it, the only thing keeping the car in place was the long branch that had skewed it through the front and back windows. The car teetered like a hanger hooked on to someone’s finger.

Garrett took in a deep breath and let it out. "Well, standing here ain’t getting our job done. Let’s go find the Scene Commander."

Danni nodded and they trooped off together in the direction of the man in charge.

***

It was only a matter of ten or fifteen minutes before the bloodstained body of the small vehicle’s driver was lowered out of the tree. The use of an aerial ladder raised to the side and above the treed vehicle afforded them the vantage point that they needed. They rigged their rope and pulley assembly there to lower the victim secured to the backboard down to the ground and into the waiting hands of the medical personnel. Surprisingly, the victim was alert and oriented to his plight. His anxious cries for help tore at the young nurse’s heart. It was her nature to care and comfort, not stand around, waiting for the patient to come into your reach.

"He’s going to be full of glass, Danni. You’d better make sure to have your heavier gauge gloves on." Garrett thought out loud as they stood there watching.

"Yeah, got them right here in my pocket." The petite nurse touched first her right then her left side leg pockets. "Never leave home without them." Then she began to pull them from her zippered pockets. In the process a small vial of solution started to emerge with them. ‘What the…oh, forgot I had that in there from yesterday in the E.R.’ She pushed it back into her pocket, pulled the zipper shut and stood ready for the patient as she pulled the gloves onto her hands.

Within minutes the lowered form was disconnected from the rope system and carried across the rough terrain. The group of litter bearers never stopped until they were well out of the danger zone, and the patient placed on the framework of the helicopter’s stretcher.

The rescue worker in the lead looked directly at the Flight Surgeon, his eyes pleading for help. "He’s bleeding from somewhere on his face and we just can’t get it to stop."

Garrett glanced quickly at the blood soaked clothing of the rescue personnel then to the patient himself. If something weren’t done to stop that bleeding soon, there would be little blood left to keep him alive on the inside. She caught a glance of the lone I.V. site in his left arm. The fluid chamber of the regulating gauge was dripping so fast that it was almost a steady stream.

"Danni, get another I.V. line established and hang Ringer’s Lactate wide open." The surgeon muscled her way into the group of concerned E.M.S. personnel. "Shine those lights on his face. Let’s get a look at this wound." She reached into the pile of gauze and absorbent dressings, carefully lifting them from his face.

Garrett grabbed the offered gauze from the Medic’s hand and used it to try to wipe some of the blood from the patient’s face. As fast as she blotted the area, more blood appeared. It seemed to be gushing out of his very pores, all concentrating in the area around the right eye. After a few more handfuls of fresh gauze, it appeared that she was making a little headway. The long jelly-like masses of coagulated blood clung to the gauze like a baby to its mother’s nipple. Now, the injury could be seen much clearer.

Danni noticed the quietness at once as the voices around her halted. She looked up from her ministrations with the I.V. tubing to see several shocked faces on the rescuers. "What’s wrong?"

Her question was meet only briefly by the blue eyes of the Flight Surgeon as Garrett looked up from the brutalized flesh, then, continued examining the right side of the patient’s face.

The nurse looked directly at the traumatized patient’s face. Even from where she stood an arm length away, the injury was horrendous. The right eye was protruding from its socket and grossly misshapen. There wouldn’t be much that they could do for that eye now. Stopping the bleeding was their major concern. Knowing that head wounds have a tendency to bleed more due to the vascular nature of the body, Danni was not appalled by the site like many of the rescuers were. She just kept moving along about her job.

"Artery?"

Garrett shook her head. "No, the blood just keeps coming from that whole area." She blotted the raw flesh again trying to see it better. "Danni, we don’t carry Lidocaine with Epinephrine in our drug bag, do we?"

The nurse handed the bag of I.V. solution for a rescuer to hold. "I.V.’s in and running wide open. Lidocaine with Epi, not likely. They only use that in Plastic Surgery." She moved out of her position and joined Garrett at the head of the patient. "We don’t carry that in our bag," she smiled as she remembered the vial in her leg pocket, "but I know where we can get some."

Danni quickly produced the vial from her pocket. "Would 20cc be enough?"

She held the bottle up with the label facing the surgeon.

The lopsided grin spread like a bolt of lightning across Garrett’s face. "Yes, that just might be enough." Her eyes twinkling with delight at the sight of the drug she needed. "Get me a syringe and a few needles, 25 gauge if you have them. Were going to use an old plastic surgery trick to stop this blood loss."

With needles and syringes procured, the Flight Team worked to arrest the bleeding by injecting small amounts of the drug under the skin. It was a way of keeping the very vascular regions of the face that were filled with multitudes of capillaries, small veins and arterioles from bleeding while the plastic surgeon would do the tedious job of stitching up any lacerations through the layers of nerve sensitive tissue. It would allow plastic surgeons a lengthier time to work at the tiny hair-fine stitches that were necessary. Garrett finished the last of the injections, using up the last of the drug. "There, that should give us a chance to get him to the Trauma Center and replace some of his blood." She straightened up and rolled her shoulders trying to release the kink that was forming already. "What’s his pressure now?"

The medic took another reading while the surgeon studied the exposed globe and placed moist gauze then the domed plastic shield over it for the protection of the once sighted organ.

"BP is 100 over 76, Heart Rate is 108, and Respirations are 24."

"Okay, let’s get him loaded for transport, there’s nothing more that we can do here."

The Flight Surgeon’s words were like gold taken at face value. The group of rescuers hastily carried the helicopter litter into the receiving door as Danni slipped inside the craft to direct the stretcher into place and lock it down. The surgeon brought up the rear, as she gathered the equipment bags, bringing them with her. Once the bags were stowed inside, Garrett slid the compartment’s door closed, locking it in place. She promptly took her seat and buckled herself in for the ride. A quick visual check assured her that Danni was in place and ready for flight. Garrett gave the thumbs up sign to the pilot and they were on their way.

The sound of the whirring blades picking up both speed and power for lift off were a welcome noise. It would mean that they were at best, only twelve to fifteen minutes from the hospital and an awaiting ophthalmologist to whisk him into surgery. That was, if there was any hope to save the eye.

The surgeon continued on with her secondary assessment of as much of the patient as she could reach while Danni monitored his vital signs. With the abbreviated survey giving her no additional speculations of injury, the surgeon called in her report. With that out of the way, the Flight Team settled into their seats and waited for the familiar sights of the City of Pittsburgh to come into view.

"Danni," the soft voice of the surgeon could be heard over the helmet radio, "that was a nice assist back there. Where did you come up with that Lidocaine with Epi?"

The nurse shrugged her shoulders rather tiredly. "Sometimes it pays to help out in the E.R. when we’re waiting to be called out. I was assisting the Maxillo-Facial Surgical Resident yesterday and just happened to pick up an extra vial." She let the smile spread across her face, content in the thought that she had everything that Garrett could possibly want.

***

With their patient turned over to the Trauma Team at the hospital, Garrett and Danni waited to see what the ophthalmologist could report after his close scrutiny of the traumatized globe. It wasn’t looking good in respects to being able to save the eye even cosmetically. The lens was ripped out of its place and the cornea, what little there was left to it, was trashed. Even though the loss of the eyesight would be a permanent thing, the patient still had his life, which was lucky considering the nature of his accident. It could have been so different an outcome if the car had propelled itself a little more to the right.

Wearily, Danni and Garrett replaced their supplies and bid Cowboy farewell and safe flying, as they themselves headed back to their home. It was almost morning now and sleep was still nothing more than an allusion to them.

***

The ringing clamored so close to her, that Danni initially thought it was coming from inside her head. The blonde woke to the sound of the phone. There it was again. Her single eyelid opened as the tired green orb tried to find the source of the racket to stop it from ringing another time. Her jumbled mind fought from dominance over sleep. ‘What’s the phone doing in my room anyway?’ There it was, starting all over again. She reached out her hand and swiped it from the table next to where she lay.

"H...Hel…lo," she croaked, her voice husky from sleep. The nurse tried to push herself up from her warm pillow but the effort was too much as she sank back into it.

"Danni? It’s nearly 1 in the afternoon. I thought you didn’t work the night shift anymore."

"Don’t…" she mumbled into the receiver. "I’m with Garrett now."

"You’re still in bed?" Brie was shocked by the openness of her sister. She hadn’t even tried to hide the fact. "Are you feeling alright, I mean, you’re not sick are you?"

"No, Brie, no queasy stomach today. I haven’t had one since the last time we spoke." Danni laughed softly, as she grew more awake with each exchange of conversation. "Gar and I were up and down so many times last night, I never thought I would get to sleep."

"Danni, is that good right now?" The concern was coming across loud and clear from her sister.

"Yeah, they said that the call to action would grow steadily before it would level off and then slow down later in the season. Everybody tells us to enjoy it while we can."

Brie thought of her own family and the limited times that were available for sex once her son was born. "I got to admit it, Danni, they’re right. Is that snoring I hear in the background?"

Danni pulled her head up off the pillow and tried focusing her eyes on her surroundings. Much to her surprise, she was on the couch in the living room and her pillow was none other than one very worn-out surgeon still dressed in her Flight Suit. The nurse looked down to her own body stretched out along the length of the couch. She, too, was dressed in a very similar fashion. "Yeah, Brie, that’s Gar snoring."

Images ran through Brie’s head of her sister in bed with a man and she fought hard not to go there. "Are you happy with this, Danni?"

"I’m finding that I’m liking it more and more. You might even say that I just can’t seem to get enough of it." The nurse turned a loving eye to the woman sleeping next to her. "It’s really wearing Garrett out, which is surprising because that surgeon can usually go all night long without a problem. I guess it’s a little too much right now."

"You know, sis, you could just kick back a little and skip a time or two."

"Are you kidding me?" Danni laughed joyously. "That little signal goes off and I know that Gar will be coming in any minute, banging on my door trying to get me up and ready for action. Hmmm…I guess we’re getting more physical than Gar is used to, just standing around in that Operating Room all day." She thought about her friend and how peaceful she looked at rest.

Brie was no prude, but she never expected these kind of explicit details from her older, unmarried sister. ‘I wonder if knowing that Mother is listening in on this conversation would make a difference?’ Casting a watchful eye to her mother across the table, one daughter wondered about the other.

"Hey, Brie, I’m like really tired. If you just called to chat, can we do it later? I’d like to get some more rest before we’re up and at ‘em again."

"Okay, I’d better say goodbye. Talk to you later."

"Bye!" The blonde turned off the phone, laying it back where she had found it. Likewise, Danni did the same with her head.

Brie disconnected the line and stuffed her digital phone back into her purse. Mother’s face was becoming more stern and tight-lipped then ever. Her narrowed eyes resembled black holes that would suck you right in and lose you in her wrath forever.

"Now, do you believe me, Mother?" Brie sat with a smug look on her face. "I told you they were living together. Now I’m sure of it. Danni’s pregnant. First the morning sickness at Christmas time and now the unbridled sex urges. Why, by my pregnancy book, she’s right in step with her second trimester."

Mother looked shocked. ‘Where did I go wrong? She knows my wishes…find a doctor, get married and raise children.’ "Get the check for lunch, Brie. We’re going to Pittsburgh. I’ll see for myself."

"Ah…Mother I’m not sure that would be a prudent idea right now. I mean, they didn’t sound like they were receiving company any time soon." Brie motioned for the waitress. "Besides, Mother, if Danni is pregnant you don’t really want to go getting her all upset do you?"

Mrs. Bossard had anger building up inside of her that equaled the power of the atomic bomb. "You’re right, Brie, Danni would never be the one responsible for this. I’ll take my anger out on the real culprit, Dr. Garrett Trivoli." Her eyes glowed with the fire of hell and brimstone. "Who does he think he is to turn my eldest daughter into a little trollop? I’ll not accept any bastards in this family. He’ll marry her alive or posthumously. It doesn’t matter to me."

The matriarch breathed deeply, trying to calm her outraged emotions. "I have a meeting in Pittsburgh next week. I’ll just stop in at that hospital of theirs and talk to him without Danni being around. We’ll see who’ll have the last laugh here." She pushed herself up from the table. "Come, daughter, we have things to take care of."

The young woman watched her mother turn and walk away. ‘Yeah, Danni, you can have fun with your surgeon, but I’m the matriarch-in-training now.’ She doled out several bills from her purse to pay for lunch and followed in her mother’s footsteps as she gently rubbed her own ever-expanding with new life stomach.

***

Shades of evening were drifting in the windows as the sun slowly sank in the west, when Garrett first started to stir. Her long frame draped over the comfortable couch had received more sleep in the last eight hours than she had in the last five days. It was a miracle that they got any sleep at all. For once, in a string of days, the beeper remained quiet. She dreaded moving for fear the tired and aching muscles of her body would scream in protest to the punishment that she was causing them to endure.

What was supposed to be a year spent in learning the techniques of Trauma Surgery was becoming a year of learning more and more about herself than she ever realized existed. The once cut-and-dried approach that she had meant for her life was now crumbling around her. She was feeling things that made no sense to her and for the first time in her life, she felt like she was losing all control. Control, wasn’t that what had ruled her life before? She thought about how she was the controlling party in the orchestra of her life’s work. It was she who had put in the long tedious hours of mastering her surgical skills. No one else had made her practice the fine motor skill movements that her hands and fingers could perform now without her even giving them a second thought. Now, when all of her hard work was about to be paying off, she felt her life spiraling out of control with a petite blonde at the center of it all.

The surgeon slowly rolled her head from side to side, easing out the stiffness in her muscles. She let her body take its time in waking up. Yawning, she opened her eyes and saw where she was, the living room. She’d never even made it up the stairs. Now that was tired. ‘Good gosh, if I was this tired, I can only imagine what Danni must be feeling like.’

It was then that she felt the strange sensation of movement, as something stirred against her body. The tiniest of sighs came dancing on her ears and the surgeon knew that Danni was not far away. Lifting her weary head, Garrett could make out the blonde hair that fell so haphazardly in her lap. The woman’s body warmth had melted her heart. Garrett rested her head down on the back of the couch and moved her arm so that her hand was laying gently upon Danni’s head, the blonde tresses weaving themselves in between the long sinewy fingers of the surgeon.

***

Danni had awakened, surprised to still be in her Flight Suit. But the bigger surprise was being on the couch with her head on Garrett’s lap and the surgeon’s hand playing with her hair. Wow, was that a surprise! The blonde felt her heart racing and her mind clouded with thoughts. ‘By the gods, if it could only be like this forever.’ The nurse nestled in enjoying the closeness of the woman she loved and letting all of her senses drink in their fill of information to keep the moment fresh in her memory. Now, this, this was something to write about in her journal. Danni made a mental note to do just that the minute the large, soft hand was no longer holding her.

***

The warming days of April had settled in and now the rain descended down upon them. The medic crews that came into the E.R. this night were dressed in their slickers and dripping with the elements from outside. Rain was always depressing but even more so to the hospital staffs, especially the nurses in the E.R. With rain came slippery road conditions and with the darkness falling, that meant more accidents than normal.

The trauma beeper had been going off on what seemed to be a regular basis.

At least that’s what Karen thought it to be. She looked up to see the doors open, allowing another group of medics to wheel in their patient. "It’s going to be another one of those nights." She shook her head. "Okay, Medic 4 we got your report. Knee injury, right?"

The young, skinny medic nodded his head. "Yep, minor fender bender and no seat belt. His knee hit the dashboard. Nothing else hurts and his vitals are fine."

"Okay, let’s see," the Charge Nurse looked at the board, "Take him into room 10. I’ll have the Doctor see him in a minute or two." She turned and looked around for an available nurse, "Rosie, can you take this one?"

"Not really, Mom, we just got a report of two more coming in from an MVA, a Level One and the other one is a rescuer."

The older nurse nodded to the patient and medic combo, "Come on, I’ll take you myself." Leading them to the room, she prepared the patient to be seen.

Rosie stepped out of the way of the medics as they wheeled in past her. Within seconds, the perky nurse was headed for the back hallway and the Trauma Rooms. Passing the assignment board, the auburn-haired nurse looked at the names, longing to see that of her friend’s up there once more. She missed Danni like she missed a sister. The two women had worked side by side since the blonde had come to the E.R. and now, with being on the Flight Team, Rosie seldom, if ever, got to see her. ‘What I wouldn’t give to be working with her tonight.’ The nurse hastened her pace to assure that the room would be ready and she in it when the patient arrived.

The tired team assembled and took their places ready for the next trauma to roll in the doors. As each one prepared themselves, they thought of things ranging from home and family to what to do and where to stand. The evening was a long one and with each new trauma coming in, it became even longer still.

Dr. Rene Chabot rounded the corner into the Trauma Room as the loudspeaker announced the arrival of his patient. "Traumas in the department, Traumas in the department."

"Okay, everybody ready, eh?" The French Canadian was in a chipper mood even though the day had been busy. He looked from face to face as he grabbed the lead apron and put it on. "Dr. Kreger, you’ve got the second patient. I understand that it’s one of the rescuers. I’ll take the Level One."

The Chief Resident nodded his head and moved out into the hallway. "I wonder what happened?"

"Don’t know…they never said what the injuries where, just that they were both coming in the same ambulance." Rosie was hoping that it wasn’t too bad, it was never a pleasure to work on someone that you knew.

Just then the first sight of the ambulance crew came into view and all eyes were on them, eagerly anticipating the report. The Medics wheeled the stretcher into the room but instead of a deep male voice giving the report, a familiar female one was heard instead. Rosie looked up, surprised to see Danni dressed in casual clothing consisting of jeans and a pullover top.

"Fifty-two year old male unrestrained driver of a single car into a utility pole accident. We initially found him unresponsive on our arrival at the scene." Danni watched as they transferred the man from one stretcher to another. "Heart rate was Sinus Brady at 56, showing some PVC’s with occasional runs of bigeminy lasting for a minute or so. His BP was 110 over 82 and Respiration was at a rate of 12."

"Okay, thank you Nurse Bossard." Rene looked questioningly at her. "New uniform?" he teased.

"This?" Danni looked down at her clothing, "No, just out shopping when we saw this accident happen in front of us."

"Us?" Rene looked behind the blonde woman. "Where is the rest of the ‘us’ at?" He knew that Garrett would not be far away.

Danni tried to hide a knowing grin. "She’ll be here in a min…"

"I told you that I don’t need this!" The sound of Dr. Trivoli’s commanding voice traveled down the hall to the Trauma Room. "I can walk perfectly fine."

Danni wrinkled her nose in response to the voice. "There she is now." Then turned to see the hallway filled with the presence of the Flight Surgeon.

"Sure you can Doc." The medic pushing the wheelchair just rolled his eyes and laughed. "Just humor me, okay?"

"Humor you! You want me to humor you? How about you humoring me and let me out of this thing." The surgeon was twisting and turning in the chair as she ranted and raved.

Danni just sheepishly grinned, "They always say that doctors make the worst patients." Then shrugged her shoulders and left the patient from the car accident in the hands of the Trauma Team. "Looks like I’m needed elsewhere."

Rosie shook her head. "I’m glad that I’m not the nurse to get her out of those clothes." There was a subdued chuckle coming from the members of the team with that comment.

"Okay, everyone! Let’s get to our jobs, eh?" Rene urged them on as he thought. ‘And I’m glad that I’m not the physician to treat her. Ah…But Danni will keep her from killing anyone…I hope.’ The Trauma Fellow turned his attention back to the MVA patient before him. "Let’s get a 12 lead EKG and draw some blood for labs."

***

The Charge Nurse passed by the room with the mutterings of anger casually spewing out into the hall. The patient was obviously upset and blaming everything from the rain to landmines as the cause of his or her misfortune. Curious of the voice, Mom stuck her head into the room. "Is there anything that I can do to…Dr. Trivoli?" Karen’s eyes bugged out to see the surgeon trying to get her pants off over the swollen left ankle.

"What?" The voice was loud and irritated. "Can’t you see that I’m busy?"

Karen had now let her face reflect the Charge Nurse that she was. "I’ll get your nurse to help you with those, Doctor. Now, could you just stop with the cursing out of the world? I mean…what kind of example are you setting for the rest of the patients?" Mom’s hands were on her hips by now and her right foot tapping to the cadence of her words. "Now, who’s your nurse? I’ll go get them."

The blue eyes of the surgeon lifted to meet Karen’s. The raging sea in them only worsened with the mention of calling her nurse for help. "You call that perverted little man back in here and I’ll send him off on another wild goose chase again. I’m not having him take my jeans off."

Mom had to laugh; Garrett was right. She thought for a moment and could hear the stories in her head already that would boast of John’s ability to get into the tall, dark, and deadly-with-a-scalpel, surgeon’s pants. It would read like something out of a romance novel of wanton lust. The seductive power that the male nurse possessed to land the great and all-powerful Dr. Garrett Trivoli would be told again and again.

"Come on, let me give you a hand." Karen closed the curtain to shield the woman from any wayward eyes. "You know, I bet Danni would just love to help you out of these. Where is she anyway?" The nurse looked at the swollen ankle and asked rather shyly, "What the heck did you do to this…use it to beat that lawyer over the head when no one was looking?"

"No, I was going over to the accident scene after parking the Blazer and all of a sudden, I was almost knee deep in a blasted puddle in the middle of the lanes of traffic." Garrett sighed pointing to the other trauma. "So Danni’s over there filling out the report with the Medics."

The Charge Nurse laughed trying not to let it show. "Garrett, welcome to Pennsylvania. You’ve just been sucked into one of our famous potholes."

"Pothole, damn it! It felt like a crater in a minefield."

"Well, we’ve been known to have small cars swallowed whole in them." Karen shook her head, "Come on now, let me help you with those jeans."

"Why would they let them get that big? Doesn’t anybody see them when they start out little?" The surgeon winced as the older nurse gently eased the stiff denim material over the injured limb.

‘Should I? Hell, I might as well try! Danni, here goes.’ "You know, Doc, not everyone sees things the same. It takes some little feeling or emotion to let some people know that things are different about a person while another may be pretty dense to the activity going on around them." Karen watched for any sign that she was being understood before she continued on. "Take the way that you and Danni have become friends over the last few months. Most people might think that you two are very close friends."

"Well, of course we’re close. You work with a person long enough you get to know them."

"I don’t mean in that way, Doc. There’s something different about the relationship that the two of you have." Mom felt like she was sticking her neck out on the chopping block and hoped that Garrett would know what she meant.

Garrett looked down at her discolored ankle. "Hmmm…" she wasn’t happy with the way it looked "That’s because we live together. We both know what is going on in the other’s life."

Mom’s eyes rolled at that statement. "Sometimes, Doc, I think you’d need to be hit with a railroad tie to wake up and see what’s going on." Karen set the jeans down on the foot of the stretcher as she prepared to let the steam out of her boiler. This was getting her mad now. Who would believe that the skilled surgeon in front of her could not know that Danni had feelings for her? "Doc, you can be so observant of the tiniest imperfection in someone’s anatomy and not see the giant good that your being here does for her. I don’t get it. I just don’t get you." Karen pulled the sheet up, covering the surgeon to her waist. "You better start thinking about what’s going to happen when this year is all over. I swear, Garrett Trivoli, if you just leave without so much as a goodbye, I’ll…I’ll…" The Charge Nurse saw the puzzled look on Garrett’s face. "Well, just don’t! I don’t know what she sees in you, but then again who does when they’re in..." Mom ended her thought without finishing when she heard the footsteps at the door.

"Hey! There you are. How’s the ankle? Ouch!" Danni stuck her head into the curtained off room, her face showing pain at the sight of the surgeon’s ankle.

"Yeah, too bad it ain’t as thick as her head, she’d be just fine then." Karen bustled out of the room. "I’ll go get an attending to come look at that."

"What’s up with Mom?" The petite blonde motioned toward the door.

"I’m not sure. She was telling me about the car-swallowing potholes and then started to talk about…" Garrett stopped short of finishing her thought out loud. ‘Our friendship and saying goodbye.’ "Ah…my ankle and how bad it looks." The surgeon studied Danni’s face. ‘Could Mom be right? Is there more than just an everyday friendship between us?’ This was something that she was going to have to think about and this just wasn’t the right time or place.

"It does look kind of nasty, Gar. Are you going to be able to walk on it?"

The surgeon tried to move her ankle in any easy direction. Each way that she tried, her action was met with pain. "Maybe you better call the Command Desk and notify them that we’re out of service for a while." A scowl was on her face as she handed over her cell phone to Danni.

The nurse accepted it and began the round of phone calls that would be necessary.

*** Being a medical professional, especially one that is known for her demanding nature, helped to hasten Garrett’s time in the E.R. It wasn’t long after the customary examination, X-rays, treating, and teaching that the petite blonde assisted the crutch-using surgeon to the door of the Blazer in the driveway.

Using crutches was something new for the surgeon and she found herself feeling a little like a baby bird does going out for its first flying lesson. The tall woman was in no mood for joking as everyone within earshot could tell. The faint mutterings under her breath hinted at first of the pothole but were now turning in the direction of the crutches instead. The surgeon always thought of herself as striving for perfection while now all she was striving for was to go home and rest, away from the staring looks and pity-filled faces of those who saw her.

Garrett looked up into the compartment of her Blazer. She’d never seen it from this angle, the passenger’s side. "How’d you get the…"

Danni smiled graciously. "The Medics dropped me off when you were having your X-rays done. I figured that it was better then taking the bus."

The nurse’s eyes were hopeful. "Now let’s get you home."

The surgeon nodded her head. "Thanks. Guess you’re driving, huh?"

"I’d say so, at least for the next few days." Danni smiled. "I’ve got the written orders to prove that, too!" She held out the yellow discharge slip from the E.R. "All signed and sealed by Dr. Kreger and Dr. Porter. Besides, when I talked to Dr. McMurray about your injur…" she stopped short seeing the intense eyes of the surgeon, "ah…incapacity for the next several days, he suggested that I take some time off, too. You know, to relax a little. Now, get in before I have to have John help you in."

"I’m going...I’m going!" Garrett picked up her crutches and maneuvered her body into the seat of the Blazer. Once settled in she turned toward the driver’s seat waiting for Danni to climb in. "Home, James." The surgeon giggled. "You know, I always wanted to say that."

The petite nurse rolled her eyes and shook her head, then cautiously pulled out into traffic.

***

Danni was trying her best to be a good nurse to the injured surgeon. She had brought her breakfast in bed and helped her assemble her clothing for the day, even drawing her bath and having everything ready for it, all within Garrett’s reach. She’d even made the corner of the couch into a comfort zone for the beleaguered woman with the edition of extra pillows for her to rest and elevate her foot on, while the close proximity of several surgical journals that had just arrived in the mail completed the zone. She would check in on Garrett from time to time, asking if she needed anything or wanted something to eat or drink. By the end of the supper, the nurse could sense that the injured woman was in need of some space of her own. The pleasant smiles had, over the course of the day, dwindled to forced smiles and annoyed mumbling after she left the room. The surgeon had taken care of herself for so long that it felt too confining having someone look after her almost every need. Danni had to agree coddling was not the surgeon’s style.

It was with Garrett’s best interest at heart that she decided to let the surgeon have some time to herself. After all, they were together as the Flight Team day and night; she didn’t have to be with her in their down time too. Perhaps some time away from each other would let the surgeon feel more in control. Besides, this was the perfect time that Danni had been looking for to go talk to David face to face. And with that idea in mind, the petite woman would set her plan into action the next morning.

Danni rose early, getting herself ready for the day ahead. All night long she thought about what she would say to David. It was still on her mind as she began to make breakfast, a rather large one that would last the surgeon all day if necessary. She knew the eating habits of her friend if she was not around to reminder her to eat. Garrett would go without food before she’d think to make some.

The petite woman’s thoughts drifted to her tall friend. ‘What if Garrett doesn’t accept me in a more involved relationship? Could I live with that?’ The nurse flipped over the pancakes and sighed. ‘Danni…you know that you could live with anything as long as she stays in your life.’ She turned from the stove and was startled by the long lean figure that was staring at her. "Gar, I…I didn’t hear you come down the stairs."

"I’m getting better on these crutches than I’d like." The dark-haired woman motioned with her head toward the stove. "What are you making? It sure smells good." Her eyes were eager, like that of a child.

"Pancakes and sausage. I thought that I’d make you a good breakfast since I’m not going to be home for the rest of the day." She hesitated to see her friend’s reaction.

Garrett looked at her for a moment then let her eyes move downward to the floor. ‘I can’t blame her, I wouldn’t want to be around me either, especially now.’ The surgeon played with the handles of her crutches trying to console herself. "Going anywhere special?"

It was now or never, Danni knew what she had to do. "Yeah," she nodded, "I’m going to drop in on David, we’ve been playing phone tag just a little too much lately."

"Oh…." Garrett felt as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. ‘She’s got a life of her own, Gar. She’s a big girl and can do what she wants without you in tow.’ It was David again and for the life of her, the surgeon couldn’t fathom why she felt the way she did.

"You…you didn’t want to do anything special today, did you?" Danni had picked up on the shift in moods. "I just thought that you might like to have some time to yourself, maybe get some reading done."

"Yeah, I guess just because I’m the one that’s hurt, you should take advantage of the down time." Garrett nodded as she moved toward the seat at the kitchen table now. "You should go and have a good time. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine." ‘What am I saying?’ She sat down and thought about it. ‘Why am I giving her my blessing to be with David when the mere thought of them being close to each other sends a chill down my spine?’ Garrett stared at her plate as Danni placed the food on it.

"I don’t know how long I’ll be down there." The petite woman fixed her own plate and then sat down. "Will you be alright here alone?"

"What am I going to do but read and keep my leg elevated? You go ahead, I’ll be alright." Feeling the need to say something, the surgeon mumbled out her words. "Maybe I’ll give some time to planning a few activities for the Lone Survivor’s Group." Garrett started to cut her food into small bites. "When were you thinking of leaving?"

"I thought that I’d throw a few clothes into a bag and leave after I clean up the breakfast dishes." Danni took the food on her fork and chewed it until she swallowed it. "Hey, Gar! You told me before that you liked figuring out puzzles. Why don’t I give you my journal to read? Maybe you can make out what all those pieces of dreams are about."

The surgeon thought for a moment, she did make that offer several months ago. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. It will keep my mind occupied for a while."

"Good, I’ll bring it down for you before I leave." The petite woman dug into her piled-high plate of food, now relieved that Garrett would have something to keep her busy while she went down to see David. ‘David, now that is still the question here. I wonder how he’s going to take it when I tell him that I have no feelings for him other than as a friend.’

The rest of their breakfast was spent in silence, each with their own agenda on their minds. Their eyes each taking turns to steal glances from one to the other. Once finished with the meal, the women set about their courses, each with thoughts and plans for the day to come. Danni pushed herself to finish the dishes, knowing that her resolve was quickly fading to leave the side of the surgeon. With great haste, she assembled her bag and came down the stairs to the living room. "Gar, I’m leaving now. Don’t expect me home ‘til late, or more likely tomorrow." The nurse knew that if she spent one more minute in the house that she would never leave it…leave her friend.

Garrett looked up from the surgical magazine that she was reading. There was no logical reason to stop her, so the surgeon just let her go with a simple "Goodbye." All the while, the voice in her head was screaming ‘NO!’

The rush of air on her back and the sound of the door as it closed were the last sensory things that her body could feel as Danni’s presence faded from the room. The muffled sound of the Malibu as it started up in the parking space in front of the house and then slowly pulled away left a gaping hole a mile wide in the heart and soul of the woman sitting there on the couch. The essence that was Danni still clung to the air and that was all that Garrett was left with in the house, all alone.

***

The several hours that it took Danni to drive to West Virginia gave her ample time to reason everything out in her head. She knew that she was doing the right thing and that David would just have to understand how she felt, not only about him, but about Garrett Trivoli as well. The nurse wasn’t looking forward to the talk with David but there was no other way to deal with her heart. He had to know and it had to be before she said a word to Garrett. ‘This way she’ll know that I’m sure…sure of what I want.’

Danni hoped that David would understand that love was just not something that could be turned on or off. It had to come from the heart. She was sure as she ever would be that one tall, dark and deserving surgeon in Pittsburgh was the only one that had ever made her heart stir, had ever made her aware of love and would forever hold her heart in the palm of her hand.

***

The surgeon put the medical journal down and rubbed her eyes. It was quiet with no one here. Finished with the first one, Garrett laid it on the coffee table and picked up the second magazine. Her eyes caught sight of the glass of water and piece of fruit that was on the table next to the magazine. She could feel the smile creeping across her face as she thought of the petite blonde who had left them there as a reminder. "You always know what I need, don’t you?" Danni was on her mind now and she looked around the room almost hoping to see her walking through it.

Garrett picked up the orange and began peeling it, the sweetness of its fragrance filling her nose. She broke off a piece and divided it into the smaller segments that it grew in. With each division of one segment from the other her mind drifted to how much like oranges that she and Danni were. Each one a part of the whole while being an individual, yet coming together and fitting each other as though they were meant to be that way for life. After a minute or two, the surgeon just shook her head wondering what she was thinking. ‘Danni is in love with David. She’s your friend, be happy for her, she’s found that someone to love for the rest of her life. Why else would she be headed down to meet him?’ Her mind kept telling her, but deep in her heart she was still bothered by it. Sighing, the surgeon opened the magazine on her lap and started to read, hoping that her mind would let her.

***

The casually dressed blonde woman in jeans and blazer stood before the information desk in the lobby of the hospital. She knew the ins and outs of finding a medical professional when she needed one in particular and even though this hospital was in a different state, they all worked pretty much the same. Danni waited for the older woman to finish her phone call and turn in her direction. Smiling politely, Danni looked at her. "I’m a friend of Dr. David Beckman, I was wondering if you could page him to let him know that Danni Bossard is here?"

"Dr. David Beckman," the older woman nodded and returned her smile. "If you’d like to have a seat over there, I’ll let you know when he returns the page." She motioned to several chairs in the lobby.

"Thank you." Danni smiled once again and took a seat from which she could see the information desk.

Within minutes the woman had motioned for Danni back to the desk where she was told of David’s involvement in a surgical procedure. "He asked me to direct you to his office for you to wait there for him." The older woman attempted to repeat his message word for word.

Danni agreed and was given directions to his fourth floor office.

Following the directions, she soon came upon a large wooden door with a shinny new placard on it reading, ‘Dr. David Beckman, General Surgery.’ Danni smiled realizing that the young medical student that she had first met was now known as a surgeon. It was all those years of growing in knowledge and skill that had brought on the friendship that they shared. The blonde woman closed her eyes wishing that she would still have his friendship when she came back out of the office after they had talked.

The nurse knocked gently then opened the door to the empty office. She looked around and could sense the man that used it. His love of cars was evident by the models that decorated his shelves and the calendar emblazoned with the Porsche emblem on the wall. "He may be practicing in West Virginia but he’s got a New York state of mind." Danni shook her head as she sat down to wait for him. The seat was comfortable and it soon conformed to her body as the minutes turned to hours waiting for his appearance. Waiting for David’s appearance reminded her of the many times that she sat waiting for her own surgeon, Garrett Trivoli, to meet her for the ride home.

***

The surgeon was restless. She’d sat in one position longer than she ever cared to and now it was time to get up and move about. Garrett gingerly lowered her leg, letting it hover just off the floor as she positioned the crutches under her arms for support. ‘How long did I sit like that?’ She looked at the clock on the hall stand. "It’s 1700 already?" Garrett couldn’t believe that she was missing the constant chatter and helpful interruptions of her roommate already.

The tall woman worked her shoulders before she started on her way roaming aimlessly around the first floor of the house. Each room reminded her of some moment in time that she had shared with Danni as they all came rushing back into her mind. The laughter, the joking, the stark reality of their profession when one of their patients didn’t make it, in fact, all the words, the thoughts, but most of all, the face of the blonde was what haunted her soul.

Garrett sighed considering what to do next to keep her busy. Then it came to her, ‘The Journal…Danni asked me to read it.’ She looked around the living room for it, then the hall stand. It was nowhere in sight. "Hmmm…I bet she forgot to bring it down." The woman smirked and shook her head. "Well, I guess it’s time for a bathroom break any way." She slowly turned around and headed for the stairs.

The slow and tedious ascent to the second floor was met with feelings of relief as she emerged from the bathroom, ready to sit down once again and begin to read Danni’s journal. She had faith that she’d be able to solve the puzzle of the young woman’s dreams if given enough time. She made her way to the nurse’s room and stopped before the door, hesitant at first to enter. "This is crazy! She said that I could read it. So what if I have to go into her room to get it?"

Garrett pushed open the door and was immediately hit by the fragrance that was Danni. She closed her eyes and savored it, letting it settle in her mind and soon she swore she felt her presence in the room with her. It was subtle but there, like the petite woman herself. As the surgeon entered the room, she eyed the journal on the nightstand and a wonderful thought came to her head. ‘Why not, perhaps it will help with the puzzle?’ The corners of her mouth gently turned upward until the open smile could not be controlled.

She made her way to the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. After getting herself comfortable, she reached for the book and turned on the small reading light. Settling into the pillows, Garrett reclined on the bed and began reading the small handwritten book filled with the bits and pieces of Danni’s dreams.

***

Between the lack of sleep the night before and the long drive to come to see David at his place of work, Danni had nodded off waiting for her friend to finish his surgery. It was one of the rare occasions where exhaustion overwrote her need for a blanket and pillow. Her petite body relaxed in the chair like it had been designed specifically for her comfort while wisp-like dreams of dark hair and the hint of leather came dancing across her mind. So engulfed in them was she, that the nurse didn’t even hear the door as it opened.

David stood looking at the blonde woman whose face was graced with love. There, in his very office, was the woman on whom he had carried a crush for his entire medical career. How peaceful she looked. He hoped that it was himself that she was dreaming of.

Without a noise or word, he moved to her side and gently placed a soft kiss upon her head, then leaned back waiting for her to wake up with his image in her eyes.

The quiet stirrings of eyelashes heralded the moment as the loving expression remained on her face. The softness of her voice immeasurable of the love that it carried with the single syllable that it uttered. "Gar?" Then slowly her eyes opened, revealing not the woman of her dreams but the man whose friendship she had shared for many years. It took her a minute before she realized where she was.

His brown eyes were transfixed to her form. He stood there wondering what she was thinking. Then slowly he realized that his likeness was not the one in her dream as the more she awoke her expression of love changed to one of mild embarrassment. He swallowed hard to choke back the emotion, then began to speak as if he had not seen the look on her face. "Danni, I’m sorry it took me so long in surgery. I…I lost track of time there for a while."

She pushed herself up into a more alert position letting the fog clear from her head. "That’s okay, I’m used to it. I know that nothing is ever predictable once you start a surgery."

David smiled at her, his eyes beaming with love. "Always the understanding one, aren’t you Danni?"

She blushed with embarrassment, the red color rising from her neck and up over her cheeks. "I try David. That’s all we can hope to do, is try to be understanding of one another."

"Say, why don’t I make up for it over dinner tonight? Let me take you out to the best restaurant in town here. We could do a little dancing to start off the night. What do you say? You don’t have to be anywhere, do you?" His eyes looked deeply into hers, pleading to be given the chance to make it up to her.

"David, I…"

"Come on, Danni. Hey, maybe we could take in a show if you don’t want do go dancing. Or maybe you just want to have a long, leisurely dinner filled with candlelight and conversation. Anything you want, just name it."

Danni smiled at his boyish charm then she bit back on her lip as she readied herself to speak. "David, I really just came to see you and talk. I don’t really think that dinner would be such a good idea. At least not right now." Her eyes searched his for understanding, then she ventured forward toward her goal.

"I was hoping that you might be…"

"Hiring?" His eyes lit up. "Are you thinking about coming here to work? I could talk to the Director of Nursing for you." He was delighted at the thought. "Have you seen our E.R.? I could show it to you right now."

"David I’m not interested in leaving Pittsburgh, at least not right now. I’ve made a commitment to the Flight Surgeon’s Team until the end of the staff year."

"You’re teamed up with Trivoli." David studied her face. "She’ll have offers from everywhere. So how about at the end of her Fellowship instead of teaming up with a new surgeon, why don’t you come here and team up with me?" He stared into her eyes, hoping for his eagerness to be returned. "We could see more of each other then, who knows we may even find out that we," David wiggled his eyebrows, "like each other better than friends."

Danni felt the realization of his words. Yes, he was right, Garrett could go anywhere she wanted, leaving the nurse and moving on in her career and life. She could feel the tear slowly spill over her eyelashes and roll down her cheek. The petite woman closed her eyes in an effort to stop the tears from continuing and to arrest her fears of losing the one thing that she had truly come to love, Garrett Trivoli.

"But I don’t want her to leave. We have so much going on with the Flight Team and the Lone Survivor’s Group that we started this year. I can’t…I don’t want to try to carry on without her by my side." Danni’s voice crackled with emotion. "I know that I can’t force her to stay, but I know that she would if she knew how much it means to me. How much she means to me."

David stood frozen in place. He’d never seen the blonde in front of him so emotional about anyone in all the years that he had known her. He saw the pain of anticipated loss etched on her face and immediately knew that he didn’t like what he was seeing. He had always thought of love when he thought of Danni. Now, seeing her on the edge of emotional upheaval brought a tear to his own eye as he reached out to her and wrapped her in his arms. He rocked her gently and talked in hushed tones trying to soothe her agony over events not charted yet. It was in this space of time that he saw what she was truly trying to tell him. She was in love with Garrett Trivoli!

Holding her at arm length, he studied her tear-streaked face, then mustered the courage to speak to his friend. "You love her, don’t you?" He waited to hear what her answer would be, already knowing it in his heart.

"Yes," she nodded slightly, "she’s touched my heart and my soul like no one has ever done before. David, I’m sorry. I know that you thought we…"

"Danni, what I thought and what is in your heart can be two totally different things. You have to choose what is right for you. No one else can, only you."

The nurse wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I never had feelings of love for anyone in my life, David. Friends, yes, but love," Danni shook her head and wiped away another tear. "I never dreamed that I’d have them for another woman. It’s taken me a little while to figure them out. I’m still trying to figure it all out. You’re not angry or mad because of my choice?"

"Danni, I had a friend in college who realized that she was gay. It’s not something that you wake up with one day and just decide from there. It’s something that takes time and a lot of rationalization to come to terms with. I know you, and I know that you only speak what is in your heart." He held open his arms and found them immediately filled with a blonde, quivering nurse. This time her tears were tears of joy at being accepted for what she was and hoped to be. "How could I be angry that you didn’t choose me?"

He paused then added, "Well, maybe just a little bit, you know, I had this God-awful crush on you the whole time I was in school and my residency."

She looked into his eyes, taken aback by his last statement. "I’m sorry." she whispered, "I never realized."

"All I ever wanted was for you to be happy. If Garrett Trivoli makes you happy then, that’s all I can ask for."

"If I told you that I want to have her in my world for the rest of my life, loving her and sharing myself with her, that wouldn’t upset you?

David swallowed and fought back the urge to plead his love for her one last time. "No, I’m just sorry that it couldn’t have been me."

"Thanks for being so understanding, David." The nurse felt the load on her shoulders lighten and the path was set for yet another person to know what was in her heart. Her only wish now was for Garrett to know.

[miasswier]

miasswier’s ultimate glee ranking: no 17

17: Trio

Written by:  Rivka Sophia Rossi Directed by: Ian Brennan

Overall Thoughts: This episode has one weak spot, but otherwise it’s awesome. It’s hilarious, it’s entertaining, and manages to feel like it’s actually accomplishing something, even if it’s part of the eternal filler that the first ten episodes of season five comprised of. Plus, Blaine, Sam, and Tina are my favourite friendship on the show, so obviously I’m going to love an episode all about that.

What I Like:

How every time Tina cries Sam and Blaine are instantly comforting her, and how they each have a different style of comfort (Blaine instantly reassures her, whereas Sam tries to stop her from fully giving in, but when that fails he just hugs her)

The whole scene where Sam and Blaine are trying on their graduation robes (particularly Sam suggesting they sneak a cow into school)

Tina sobbing on the floor when they cancel the lock-in

Blaine’s adorable smile when he’s like “it’s the last time I get to wear it! Unless I join some creepy fetish club!” what a fucking dork

Blaine’s ridiculous overreaction to finding Sam and Tina making out. He’s such a fucking drama queen oh my god

Becky saying they have to drink an 11-hour energy every time they fall over and Sam going “Becky, we’ll die”

Elliott telling Rachel he doesn’t like being called “best gay” and also refusing to listen to her entire set

When Santana is like “you’re such a traitor!” and Elliott literally says “well I barely know you”

The entirety of “Gloria”

Kurt kicking Rachel and Santana out of the band and forming a trio with Elliott and Dani

Sidenote on that, the flyer for their gig cracks me up – Kurt Hummel, Elliott Gilbert, and Dani

The guy shouting “WHAT” and “Shut up and sing” when Kurt is on stage

Rachel and Santana actually getting to have a decent, mature conversation that doesn’t totally fall apart within seconds, even if it doesn’t end up solving anything

Blaine at the end saying how the year they’ve had has been so hard and weird, like damn that hits in the feels

What I Don’t Like:

Essentially everything about the Will and Emma story. I think it’s cool they want to have children, but like dear lord why did their conception attempts take up so much episode time oh my god. Also, there is like zero scientific basis for the whole “relax or you can’t get pregnant” bullshit like you think the semen and the egg are like “NOPE SHE TENSE ABORT MISSION” like okay.

Going a little off of that, why can’t Emma come to LA? She’s gotta be like a month pregnant MAX at this point. I think you can fly until you’re about eight months or so?

And on that note, is the Will and Emma story happening on a different timeline than the rest of the episode? Or do the men writing Glee really have that little knowledge about reproduction and women’s bodies that they assume you can have sex and that very day know that you’re pregnant? Taking biology into account, you have to assume the first test that Emma took was a false-negative, because there is no way she could have had sex on day 1, taken the pregnancy test and seen it was negative based on that same-day sex session, then had sex again on day 3 and found out she was pregnant from the day 3 sex session on day 4. Give me a break.

Becky’s casually racist comments. Ew.

Becky in general in this episode just feels like, I don’t know. She didn’t really need to be there.

The whole “a trio is 25% less powerful than a quartet” is so fucking incorrect like I’m terrible at math and even I know that how did that get on the air.

Songs:

Jumpin’, Jumpin’: This is such a fun number and such a fun song. A great way to start off the episode!

Barracuda: This song is good, but feels a little unnecessary, especially considering how awesome “Gloria” is.

Don’t You (Forget About Me): I love the scene and all the shenanigans, but to be honest I’m not that big a fan of this song.

Danny’s Song: I forget about this song every time I watch this episode, and every time it’s an unpleasant surprise like yes hello why

Gloria: I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG. One of my all time fave Glee covers, and the scene is hilarious. For some reason I much prefer Spotlight Diner performances to choir room/auditorium performances

The Happening: Look at Kurt Hummel, in a fucking band with Demi Lovato and Adam Lambert. Actually getting to sing part of the song. Interesting how as soon as Santana and Rachel are out he is now allowed to sing in his own band.

Hold On: Such a good closing number, and I freaking love the outfits that Blaine, Tina, Sam and Artie are wearing! And those weird flowy things that they didn’t make nearly enough use of.

Final Thoughts: This episode is pretty funny, and one that I enjoy watching as a one-off. I love the Blamtina combo, and Elliott is a babe. If they cut the whole Will and Emma thing and subbed in literally anything else, it would be perfect. (Seriously. If they cut out that whole story and instead just filled the time with clips of Marley and Kitty painting each others fingernails I would be so fucking happy).

[everydreamtilldawn]

Endgame Thoughts *Spoilers obviously and a whole lot of venting*

OK Endgame, here we go! The absolute disrespect to the audience, the actors, the characters, and all the other creators who put so much work and care into building characters and stories for the other movies and shows which led up Infinity War and Endgame. The Russos are so far up their own asses with how good they think they are. I'm so done with their pure spoiler free excuses. Not letting actors know what scenes they're in, who they're with - wasting oscar winning actors on their own bloated egos insisting adults can't be trusted not to cause a PR scandal over their fanfic. Those assholes put themselves into the canon as "the first canon gay character". Oh, Mr. Unnamed Guy 32 is the first gay character out of all these hundreds of people on screen? Oh Mr. Russo well we all better get on our knees and kiss your gay dick in thanks then you ass faced worthless shit for brain. What a fucking insult. Who has the actual nerve? Who actually has an ego so big they don't actually see the lgbt community and their issues as something to take seriously within their narrative - its like their heads have been under a rock the past few years thinking of only their wonderful, unbeatable movie that they have no idea gay people are main characters now and have their own movies elsewhere in the world. We're not nameless, background characters you dicks. The fact that 10 years led up to this is like spitting in the face of your audience and telling them exactly how little you actually care about them except for their money. Every bit of Endgame highlighted and emphasized the flaws that was the monstrosity that was Infinity War. Starting there - I will never get over the fact that the end battle of Endgame so clearly shows how awful the previous movie was. I think I've told you all the problems I have with IW before but to emphasize again - the "we don't trade lives" concept is still something I'm furious over. The fact that grand old captain america wasn't willing to kill Vision for the UNIVERSE but was ok with a few hundred Wakandan's dying for Vision to maybe live? Bullshit. AND that final battle? WTF so we're supposed to believe that in the... five?... ten minutes? after being snapped back to life all those people got off their asses? I can't even. They expect us to believe that when you put all those geniuses, warriors, battle proven tacticions, strategists and spies in a room that they still make all those obvious mistakes when they know the UNIVERSE is at stake? Where was that army of sorcerers in battle one? Why did Wong or whatever his name is really HAVE to protect that one sanctum even knowing the fate of the UNIVERSE was at stake? They had hours to plan. HOURS. If not days?!?!?!?!?! They went to different countries, they had time to sit and plan. They had time to call in the world's resources to prepare, to gather armies. Instead they fought with Wakanda and a handful of superheroes - why??? They literally knew the stakes, the only reason they didn't have the huge army battle scene in Infinity War is because Marvel wanted another movie. They wanted to make billions on Endgame cause they knew audiences would come back if they shock value killed half the universe and then brought them back for battle two but uhhhhhhh.... On your left was a great badass scene and all. But they had max like ten minutes to gather forces who legit just came back to life. Who sent out that distress call btw? Why did all these people NOW have a plan of attack and were gathered in preparation to fight?

Was it badass? Was the shot of Captain America alone against an entire army not iconic? OF COURSE. I loved that scene. I loved the women gathering around Peter and racing to fight against the army as one. It was legendary. There were some really funny, badass, and wonderful moments. But it was a bad story. It was bad writing. Working my way down from character murders that least upset me to most. Black Widow. She finally came to life in this movie. She was a leader, she had emotions, she was more than a catsuit, a sexy smile and a witty comment. I adored her. I despise her death. I hated that in the end she was still another pretty face lying sexily at the bottom of a pit for the life and will of a man. I’m half okay with her death, because it was almost justified. In this story where she was finally a fully-fledged and fleshed out person – she had wants and goals and those centered around protecting her family. The character she was in this movie didn’t even begin to exist until Endgame and it’s a tragedy that she was murdered before she even reached her full potential. But she did want to sacrifice herself so the universe could live again. She wanted Clint to go back to his family. She wanted to give her life for the only thing she loved. BUT Clint was the true perfect mirror for this narrative. Thanos sacrificing Gamora will never be okay. Gamora said it herself – that wasn’t love. That was glorifying abuse. Thanos never should have been given the soul stone under the ridiculous and unclear rules of the soul stone. Honestly, I’d believe Red Skull is just fucking with everybody at this point with how ridiculous those rules are. No way is what Thanos did love. I will come back to the Russos glorifying and being okay with child abusers when I get to Tony and his father. Clint would have been the mirror to Thanos in that moment. Instead of a father killing his daughter, it would have been a father dying for his daughter. His relationship to his daughter is even highlighted at the start of the movie and in his time travel moment. Clint hated who he’d become, he was ready and willing to sacrifice himself for his family and at that point he deserved it. As shown later with Tony – the theme of fathers sacrificing themselves is a relevant theme. So why Natasha in that moment. Why not the father? Why not the narrative mirror? Why the only woman on the team, the one who has grown to be a real person in the narrative and one who is now LITERALLY IMPORTANT TO THE STRUCTURE OF THE WHOLE WORLD AND THE UNIVERSE? She became the leader of the Avengers and expanded their reach across galaxies by communicating and coordinating with Rocket, Nebula, and Carol. She had a world to rebuild by coming home. It’s not like they’re going to give Clint his own redemption movie where he makes up for his half assed arc to becoming his Ronin character arc. I’m half okay with it, but I also think it was the completely wrong choice of which character to sacrifice.

THOR. The insult to Taika Waititi. The insult to Thor, Thor: the Dark World, and Thor: Ragnarok. The insult to Thor the character. Hell, the reversal on Thor -2.0 from Infinity War. Years of movies, years of work building this character. Them saying that not only does Thor, who finally learned to be the God of Thunder without his hammer, who took up Odin’s role and finally accepted his place as King, needed to be.... fixed?!?!?! They gave him back his eye for starters which reverses the whole meaning of him losing it in the first place. Of assuming the role of Odin, of King, of being Thor. Then they give him the axe and then the HAMMER. Thor moved on. Thor accepted himself. Thor in Ragnarok is proven to be stronger without the hammer than he was with it. Giving him the axe, making him obsessed with getting his hammer back, reverses three movie of character development. AND THEN. Making him FAT. Making him STUPID. Making him threaten children, abandon his people, abandon his duty, fall into a depression completely unlike his character who is a hardened warrior with deep emotional depth and understanding – a fucking soft hearted genius in his own right who was able to easily give forgiveness to Gamora and understanding that being the daughter of an abusive monster isn’t her fault. They have the audacity to spend a whole movie making fat jokes about him and decide to reverse him back ten year’s worth of character development. Oh hardy har, we’re such good writers. We understand posttraumatic stress and the mindset of heroes – look he’s drinking beer, and an alcoholic, and eat a salad you fat fucks. WTF. It wasn’t funny. It was mean. It was unnecessary. It was out of character like the Russos came up with it high on crack and refused to let it go. Thank god Chris H is a good enough actor not to show how insulting it must have been to have his character be paraded around in bad cgi and treated like he’s an idiot. Did the Russos not watch the other movies in the canon? Did they not care that Thor had become this deeply complex character who loved his people, would do anything for them, was ready to be King and lead – NO I guess they just don’t care. Like everyone who sat on their asses during the battle in Wakanda. It would have been amazing for Thor to have gone back in time to see his mother as the true and worthy King at last, if his final arc had been around idk his apprehension at how to lead his people after failing them, after them dying down to a few hundred. Having everything he could have been overshadowed by the Russos need for a running joke the entire movie is so very insulting. It shows just how little they think of the audience’s intelligence.

CAPTAIN AMERICA. The insult to women’s agency. I truly at this point think the Russos are lying fucks who have no respect for women. They’re sexists assholes. The insult to the entire team of Agent Carter. The insult to Peggy fucking Carter, the most badass woman who built herself up, who built Shield, who moved on, who had a life, a husband, children, who died in peace and was put to rest. Nope. Forget about everything she did. The Russos plot line is more important. Steve Rogers started out the movie saying how important it was to move on, and what does he do? Not move on. Lets highlight the insult that throwing in “the first gay character” is when facing the cowardice of switching Steve Rogers from being so obsessed with protecting Bucky Barnes that he threw away the shield, became a fugitive, and left the family and team he’d built in the future to chase after Peggy Carter who he HAD MOVED ON FROM. He kissed that one random blonde girl he had no chemistry with. He said goodbye and buried Peggy. Peggy had a life, she was happy. Did she miss Steve? Was she sad he “died”? Yeah. But now she doesn’t get a choice between the future she could have had and the one where Steve buts in and I guess Bruce didn’t have a discussion with Steve about splitting the path of time into multiple realities cause the Russos decided to fuck their own established logic and leave Steve in a new version of the past – where almost all the infinity stones are returned in their non-original forms, loki is fucking off with the tesseract and Thanos/his entire army/and Gamora are all in the wrong time never to forge the original war in the first place? They didn’t put a single scene between Steve and Bucky reconciling the past few years, Bucky’s dusting or the fact Steve was gonna go and never come back after ALL THAT. After Winter Soldier and Civil War, Steve said fuck Bucky, fuck the avengers, fuck this future that doesn’t have Iron Man, I want to go dance with a woman who HAD A LIFE WITHOUT YOU YOU ASSHOLE. I was touched by the old man Steve returning to give Sam the shield. I thought it was wonderful, I cried a little. But what about Peggy? What about the timeline? What about the rules????? Fuck it, there’s a gay character now and Thor is fat, the rules don’t matter anymore I guess.

Tony Stark.... deserved better. He is the true, real hero. The only hero. I don’t care about anyone else. Excluding his own 3 movies and Homecoming, Tony’s character was done so wrong in the Avengers movies by the writers, the audience and the other characters. So many people wrote him off as the person he pretended to be instead of the person he was. They saw selfishness and ego instead of the amount of sacrifice, the effort he gave into making the world a better place. He was such a good person. He grew so much. He gave his life for a world that never loved him, but that he never stopped loving. Natasha and Tony were the only people with something left to lose, but they were the ones who sacrificed themselves for a cold, uncaring universe and they deserved better. Tony finally had everything he never thought he would deserve – a wife, a daughter, a peaceful life at rest. All his wars were finished. He had everything to lose and he went into the endgame with the one condition that he would not give up what he had gained. And still they killed him. It was the only acceptable death for a hero like Tony Stark, but that doesn’t mean he deserved it. That doesn’t mean his daughter grows up without her father. That doesn’t mean its okay for that abusive, negligent asshole that was Howard Stark to get a last hoorah and be “redeemed” by a final conversation with his son. No. Tony had multiple arc, multiple points in his life where he had to rise above Howard and all that Howard stood for, all the ways Howard had hurt him and held him back. He was better than his father – going to be a better father than his father. Thanos and Howard will never, ever be men who should be looked upon as having loved their children enough for them to die in exchange for the greater good. It was so very satisfying for Tony to finally have it out at Steve for everything and I wish that scene had been longer. Tony deserved to live.

Final points. The timeline stuff, again, was bs. They insisted on not messing it up and still they messed up everything. The greater implications of all that is... astoundingly idiotic. Along with, why not just have Tony’s life ending snap send Thanos right back to the past along with the infinity stones to their rightful places and memories erased? If the infinity stones can do anything, such as kill half the universe, why not correct the flaws of the plot? I thought it was stupid that the only reason the time heist failed was because Nebula didn’t think about mind melding with her past self. The fact that’s even a thing... that happened. Really. The whole movie shouldn’t have existed let alone be three hours. They set such a great tone with the opening scene. It was tragic and heart wrenching and then seeing Natasha finally realized and the world broken. I can forgive dues-rat-machina bring Scott back cause I love Scott, but the time heist threw out all the tension. I didn’t feel the stakes, I felt like they stepped sideways into a whole different genre. That middle plot didn’t feel like a movie worth ending an era on. It felt cheesy and underdeveloped. Again – they had forever to plan. There was no time limit pushing them to go to the past immediately. They could have taken the time to think this out, cover every possible option – and they did. They’re shown doing that. So how, for the second time in these two movies, do these brilliant geniuses, tacticians and strategists believably fail to predict the outcome. And uhhhhhh did snapping all those people back account for the post snap casualties? Cause we saw helicopters flying into buildings, cars crashing, we were told that wars broke out and people went kinda crazy as they had a right to. The snap resulted in post snap causalities by the billions across the universe – had to have. So did all those people come back? What happens to the people who moved on and now have a 5 years younger mother/father/sister/brother/friend/loved one/wife/husband/etc to deal with who just blinked and suddenly half the people they care about are now five years older and the whole world is different? The sheer amount of housing and food crises that are about to begin post “snap 2: the snappening” are insane. And I get that its no fun to think about that in the fun of a big super hero battle and all that. But next movie will probably have zero mention of all that as shown by Peter’s entire class just moseying along on a European vacation in the next Spiderman. So Peter’s entire class got snapped, came back, and went on with their lives? The rest of the world’s infrastructure repaired itself in the time frame of Peter still being in High School? Yeah, right. But still – the fact that there’s an hour and a half of the movie that pauses all the tension and drama to be a comedy is just... whatever fine. It was funny. It was kinda cool, but it didn’t belong and it wasn’t necessary. Ok, I think I’m done.