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wiypt-writes · 4 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Chapter 12: Fairy Tale Of New York Part 2- Love In An Elevator

Summary: In the run up to the Festive Period, Katie presents the Publishing Company proposal to the Stark Industries board, and our favourite couple spend their first Christmas together in New York. New Year’s Eve is welcomed in with a bang at a Stark Industries Gala and Steve’s simply happy he has his girl by his side…even when there’s a little mishap in The Elevator

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: SMUT (NSFW!) So over 18s only please. And some teeth rotting fluff… and LANGUAGE

A/N: This part was a smutty one shot written as a request from @icanfeelastormbrewing, but I decided it sits better as a part of the main story line.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 12 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“What are you wearing?“ Tony asked as Katie looked up from where she was sat with Natasha in the main area of the party room, the two of them watching re-runs of Friends on the large holo-screen.

She looked down, “What does it look like?”

“A hoody with a Captain America shield on it.”

“You’re clever…” Natasha quipped. Tony ignored her and continued talking to Katie.

“Did he give you that?”

Steve, who had at that moment walked into the room, sighed and crossed his arms.

“No I didn’t.”

“I’ve had it a while.” Katie shrugged, smiling up at Steve “Hey Soldier. All sorted?”

He nodded “Tony and I did a full sweep of the venue. Evans is keeping an eye on it now until we turn up. We’ll do a final check before we start.”

“Where’s Pepper?” Katie looked at Tony.

“Meeting us there.” Her brother answered, dropping onto the sofa. “Thought I’d get ready here and head down with you guys.”

Katie smiled and checked her watch, giving a start. “Oh, shit, Franco will be here soon to do our hair…then we need to get dressed before make up…Nat, we need to go.”

Natasha and Katie stood up, Katie giving Steve a quick peck on the lips as she passed him. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come up”

“Okay.” He nodded, watching the pair of them as they headed off to get ready.

“Safe?” Tony looked at Steve, and he gave a shrug.

“I’m assuming she means once they’re actually dressed…” His eyes flicked to the TV.

Tony pondered for a moment before he stood up. “Drink?”

“Sure, thanks Tony.” Steve nodded, his eyes turning to Clint as he walked into the room.

“Hey.” The Archer greeted them both, a huge grin plastered on his face.

“What are you looking so pleased at?” Tony asked him as he rounded the side of the bar.

“I am excited!” he smiled “To see this huge New Year’s celebration to End all New Year’s celebrations you’ve been talking so much about…”

“Well, you know I can throw a party.” Tony mused, grabbing a bottle of scotch and three glasses.

They were joined shortly by Bruce, and the four of them sat drinking for an hour, talking about anything and everything, before Tony looked at his watch and decided he too needed to get ready. Following suit, Steve decided to brave whatever chaos was going on in the apartment upstairs and as he walked into the living room he could hear chatter coming from the bedroom.

“Well, it kinda fits, but I fall out of the top a bit.” he heard his girl say. “I only wore it once. You can have it if you want.”

Steve approached the bedroom, to find the door open. He took one glance inside and once he had stopped staring at his girl, he felt his mouth drop open at the chaos the two women had created.

“What the hell?”

Katie and Nat both turned in unison to find Steve leaning on the doorframe, staring wide-eyed at the mess they had created.

“We got side-tracked…” Katie shrugged before turning back to the closet. “Nat decided her dress wasn’t flashy enough after seeing mine so we’re looking for alternatives.”

"Is that supposed to explain why it looks like the closet threw up all over our room?” Steve asked, arching an eyebrow.

Katie smiled as she kicked an errant heel out of the way and reached down to dig something out of the pile of clothes on the bed. “What do you think about this?” She asked, holding the shimmering navy mini-dress up.

“Do you actually own that?” Steve asked, “I’ve never seen it.”

Nat turned to him and raised a single eyebrow. "But you’d like to see it on her now, wouldn’t you?”

“I happen to like the one she’s wearing.” He said, and he meant it. The scarlet-red, number which she had agonised over buying clung in all the right places, but it was the thigh high split up the right side that was setting his blood pumping, as with every move she made he got a flash of her long, delectably toned leg along with a cheeky flash of that thigh tattoo. Her hair was falling in sleek waves around her shoulders expertly framing her pretty face.

“Oooh, now this I like.” Nat said, pulling out a black silk jumpsuit from the closet.

“Yeah that’s nice.” Katie nodded “I got that in London. Try it on.”

Nat turned and looked at Steve, jerking her head to the door. Instantly realising what she meant he held his hands up and hastily backed out of the room.

Once he was gone Natasha stripped off and shimmied into the jumpsuit, turning to look at Katie.

“Nice…” Katie nodded, and she meant it. Nat’s legs looked about a mile long, her waist was tiny, and the deep V neckline at the front flashed her boobs perfectly. “We just need…” Katie moved to her dresser and pulled out a roll of tit-tape, flashing it at Natasha. Once they’d adjusted the front, it looked perfect.

“Very nice.” Katie affirmed before shouting out into the hall. “Steve, come here.”

Steve re-appeared in the doorway, arms folded stoically over his chest, with a rather alarmed-looking Tony by his side.

“You weren’t kidding.” Tony muttered as he surveyed the mess.

Katie ignored him and looked at Steve. "Tell Nat how sexy she looks.”

“Katie!” Nat exclaimed, and for the first time in the history of knowing her, Katie was amused to see Nat’s cheeks burning red in embarrassment as Tony barked out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna tell her that,” Steve sighed, rubbing at his temple in exasperation.

“I think you look very nice, Natasha.” Tony offered, smirking. “For a merciless assassin, that is.”

“Fuck off, Shell-Head.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Rude.” Tony sniffed. “Anyway, I came to tell you your make-up artist has arrived. I sent her to Nat’s.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief and Katie looked at him.

“Okay, we’re done here anyway,” Natasha shrugged. “Let’s go.”

"What? Wait,” Steve stammered, spinning around and following them to the living room. “You can’t just come over and trash the place and then leave.”

“Of course I can,” Nat shrugged. “Watch.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m blocking you from this apartment.”

“Errr technically it’s my apartment.” Katie looked at him as Natasha left, following Tony, and he folded his arms. “Just shove it all on the floor, I’ll sort it later.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled and Katie grinned.

“But you love me. I’ll be back up once my make-up is done.”

He rolled his eyes again before he smiled softly “You look great already. That dress is gonna kill me you know?” Katie flushed slightly before she leaned up and gave him a soft kiss. “I can’t wait to see you a tux again.” “Yeah?”

“Yeah…but I’m gonna enjoy getting you out of it even more.”

******

“Katie looks nice.” Bruce commented.

"Nice,” Rhodey repeated “She looks unbelievable. Mind you I still remember her as an eighteen year old student with blue streaks in her hair…”

Steve smiled as he watched Katie from where he was propped up against the bar talking to Rhodey and Bruce. She was mingling alongside her brother, talking to a group of people from Stark Industries. He saw her throw her head back in a laugh that was ridiculously over the top yet somehow she managed to make it look perfectly natural. He knew his girl was a knock out. But when he had seen her earlier that evening when her and Natasha had been getting ready he had been lost for words. The dress she had agonised over hung to her every curve, skin bare at her back. Her hair was set in soft, thick waves which framed her face. Her lips were painted in a smiliar red to her dress and the thick, smoky shadow and eyeliner over her lids made her green eyes stand out even more. As he watched, the dark haired, slightly overweight man she was stood next to dropped a hand to the bottom of her back and she turned to smile at him, gently patting his shoulder before she glanced over as Steve, rolled her eyes and mouthed “help me.” He let out a chuckle “Scuse me fellas…” and he strode across the room.

“Ah, the man of the moment.” Tony greeted him, “We were just talking about you.” “Oh?” Steve smiled, dropping a kiss to Katie’s cheek. “All good I hope?”

He didn’t even have to shoot Mr Wandering Hands a glare, the man instantly moved away as Katie stepped gently towards Steve, his hand curling around her waist.

“Yeah.” Tony nodded “Sorry, Cap this is Jeremy Saul, Finance Director for Stark Industries. Jeremy was just asking where you were.” “I couldn’t believe for one second this gorgeous lady would be here on her own” Jeremy smiled offering his hand. Steve’s left hand gripped Katie’s hip a little tighter and she smirked into her champagne flute as he shook Jeremy’s hand with his right. “Good to meet you Captain Rogers.” “Jeremy is part of the board.” Katie said, levelling Steve with a look. A look that was blatantly telling him to be nothing but charming as Mr Wandering Hands could veto her proposal. So Steve was. He politely listened to the man, answered questions and nodded along until Wandering Hand’s attention was diverted elsewhere and he excused himself from their company, but only after dropping a lingering kiss to Katie’s cheek.

“Slimeball.” She muttered when he had gone “I swear to God Tony, it’s only a matter of time before someone files a sexual harassment case against him.” Tony snorted “Until he does something outta line he’s staying Kiddo. For one thing he’s good at his job, and for another I don’t fancy the rigmarole and bad press associated with a tribunal.”

“Mr Stark…” Happy called to him. Tony spun round to see the man tapping at his watch and gesturing to the stage.

“Better go before Happy has a heart attack, can’t have my speech being thirty seconds late.” Tony rolled his eyes and he span on his heels, striding over to Happy, placating the man who as making furious gestures with his hands.

Katie chuckled to herself and grabbed another 2 glasses of champagne off a waiter as he passed, dropping her empties onto the tray. She handed one to Steve who dropped a kiss to her head.

“I know I said it before but you really do look incredible.”He still couldn’t believe his luck at times. She beamed up at him.

“And you.” And she meant it. He looked good enough to eat in a well fitted black tux and slightly off-white dress shirt, along with the cufflinks she had given him the previous year. She had watched him before as he looked himself up and down in the mirror and now, looking him over as he stood by her, she felt her stomach flutter again. A wicked smirk crossed her face. “Can you leave the suit on later?”

He was about to quip back that he’d do whatever the hell she wanted if she left those heels on too, but there was suddenly loud music blaring out and the light on the stage all started moving around zooming in and zooming out.

Katie, upon hearing the music gave a loud scoff “Egotistical dick!” She snorted, unable to hide the laugh in her voice.

“I don’t…” Steve began but she shook her head.

“You won’t” she smirked “It’s by a band called Queen- One Vision. Listen to the lyrics and you’ll understand why he chose it!”

The introduction music finished and the screen sprang to life at the back of the stage showing Iron Man flying over the tower in New York, and as the first lines of the song sounded in Steve’s ear he let out a snort.

The video continued, various bits of footage of Tony in the Iron Man suit, in the office, then there were some of Pepper in the office, Katie, the Avengers…it was all very showy for want of a better word, but at the end of the music it abruptly stopped and Tony stepped onto the stage, right hand held up, thanking everyone for the applause that had broken out. Steve noticed that Katie wasn’t clapping, instead she was shaking her head and trying not to laugh.

To give Stark his dues, Steve could see the man knew how to work a crowd. Just like he had seen Howard do many, many years ago. He welcomed everyone, thanked them for coming and talked about the company achievements for the year, the declared turn over, the charity work and thanked everyone for their continued work making Stark Industries a huge success. Katie however had zoned out until she heard her name being mentioned, and Steve nudging her lightly with his elbow.

“Where are you Kiddo?” Tony repeated

Katie’s eyes grew wide “Oh fuck.” She muttered shrinking into Steve a little as the spotlight found them.

Tony beamed, looking at his sister as she was flushing bright red from being the centre of attention. “I’d like to boast for a few moments about my sister if I may. As you will know, Katie and I lost our parents when Katie was only seven years old and some wise guy deemed me responsible enough to become her legal guardian.” There were some chuckles “But I can’t have done too bad a job. She graduated with a first from Oxbridge and worked in England heading up our UK branch, and more recently left to serve if you will, as an analyst for an Intelligence Agency before resigning a few months back due to a difference of opinion with the boss.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Steve muttered, causing Katie to smile a little.

“And, as of yesterday the Stark Industries board voted in favour of a proposal Katie brought to the-” “What?!” She spluttered loudly, glancing at Tony who was on the stage, laughs ringing around the room at her reaction

“Yes Kiddo, they voted in favour of your proposal, which means next year will see the launch of our latest venture, Stark Independent Publishers. This is a great opportunity for anyone in the business who would like a change in direction and we will be opening positions up internally before we advertise. Keep your eyes peeled.” Katie gulped, her eyes wide. They’d accepted her proposal. She was officially in business.

**** The party carried on through the night, and about fifteen minutes or so before midnight Katie, feeling the effects of various drinks grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. A dance with his girl was something he’d never disagree to so Steve allowed himself to be steered into the throng of partygoers. He moved a little closer to her, slightly put off by all the people surrounding them. But as his arms found their way around her waist and hers snaked around his neck he felt himself relax as they began swaying to the music. The song finished and the music changed pace slightly, but their slow rocking motion remained the same and then Steve realised what the song was.

“Hey…” he grinned and she looked up at him with a small smile. “This is our song.”

“I asked them to play it.” she said, a little sheepishly, but this only made him pull her closer so that their foreheads were resting together before he rubbed his nose gently against hers as the music crashed over them. Steve adjusted his and her arms so they were in a proper dancing hold and they swayed to the song, just as they had done those months ago in her living room.

Tony was watching them out of the corner of his eye as he revolved Pepper around the dancefloor.

“Stop it.” Pepper said, laughing at him.

“What?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Watching them”

Tony smiled, not even trying to hide it anymore as he looked over at where his sister was dancing, her cheek was resting on Steve’s chest, top of her head tucked underneath his chin, as she laughed at something he said, tilting her head up to look at him and the smiling captain dropped a soft kiss to her lips.

“I’ve never seen her so happy, Pep.” Tony sighed fondly as he watched the pair of them dancing together.

“I reckon they’ll make great babies.” Pepper teased, causing Tony to choke on nothing and look at her.

“What…why would…is she?” Pepper let out a laugh and shook her head “Not that I know of but they’re in it for keeps. I can tell. He’ll have a ring on it by this time next year.” “Well, so might I.” Tony teased and Pepper looked at him, smirking.

“Yeah, don’t bank on that. I told you, we’re not ready for that yet.”

“Kiddo is fourteen years younger than me.” Tony pouted.

“And fourteen years more mature.” Pepper smirked as the song drew to an end.

“Miss Potts you are breaking my heart.” Tony muttered, dropping a kiss to her lips. She smiled and gently pulled away from him, patting his chest and heading to the bar.

The band finished that song and then there was a loud cheer as the large clock on the screen began to count down, Steve and Katie moved to one of the windows to get a look over the city. As the room erupted as the countdown finished, Steve turned to the woman in his arms and smiled at her gently.

“Happy New Year, Beautiful.” he said softly.

“Happy New Year, Handsome” She beamed, as his lips met hers.

*****

“You ok?” Steve asked Katie as she leaned against the wall of the elevator, letting out a huge sight.

“Yeah.” she said, “Just tired…that was…”

“Draining, I think is the word.” Steve’s hand reaching up to first undo his tie and then pop the top button of his collar undone. “I don’t know how your brother hosts those galas so often.”

“Well, Tony’s Tony.” Katie shrugged, “He’s a show off. I enjoyed it though. Been a while since we held a formal New Year’s party.”

“Yeah, it was kinda fun, and that was brilliant news about the publishers. I’m proud of you, ya know?” Steve chuckled and turned to his girlfriend. “And you looked beautiful tonight.”

Katie smiled and turned to look Steve over, and raised an eyebrow as she took in his now undone bow-tie, the snug white dress shirt, and his expertly tailored black suit which fit his physique perfectly. “You don’t look bad yourself, Soldier.” She grinned, her eyes meeting his and he gave her a smirk.

“I should hope so, the amount this suit cost.”

“Oh stop complaining” she said, “You’re dating a billionaire.”

“Oh, don’t I know it.” He looked at her, arching an eyebrow. “You have no idea how hard it was tryin’a figure out what to buy the woman who has everything for Christmas…”

Katie shook her head with a snort “I thought you did amazingly well, your Ma’s ring was a perfect gift. Plus socks are always a good bet.”

“Yeah, I’m not getting you any more so you can just mix them all up to make odd pairs.”

Katie let out a laugh as her arms slid up round Steve’s neck, “You know I only do that now to piss you off.”

“I’m well aware of this fact.” he looked at her, his hands gently resting on the small of her back. “It’s a good job I love you.”

She grinned as he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips but just as he was pulling away the elevator jolted slightly, and they were plunged into darkness. Steve steadied the pair of them, before the emergency lighting kicked in and he looked at her.

“JARVIS?” She called out.

“Apologies, Miss Stark.” the AI replied “We have a temporary power outage along the left side of the tower.”

“How?” Katie frowned “I didn’t think that was possible with the Arc reactor?”

“It isn’t.” JARVIS replied “This is down to a planned system shut-down. Mr Stark has been running some updates and as a result there has been a temporary outage on the…”

“Ok, Ok.” Katie grumbled, “Don’t need to know. How long till you fix it?”

“Mr Stark is currently aware that the pair of you are…”

“That’s not answering my question, you know what? Just patch him through.” Katie sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as Steve gently rubbed at her back. He knew she didn’t particularly like confined spaces, and whilst the elevator wasn’t exactly small, she wouldn’t be happy at the fact they were stuck.

“Kiddo?”

“What the fuck Tony?” She blazed at him “A System update?”

“I forgot all about it!” Tony chuckled. “I thought I’d postponed…”

“You thought wrong.” Steve chipped in “We’re stuck.”

“Yeah, I know. Want me to send Clint through the air-vents for you?”

“I am NOT crawling through air-vents in a fucking Galliano gown!” Katie seethed “Get it sorted.”

“Update should be done in 20 minutes.” Tony replied. “Sit tight…”

“Twenty…twenty minutes? I swear to God, Tony, when I get out of here you are dead!”

“Yeah, yeah…” Tony replied, sounding bored “If you killed me every time you threatened to I’d never have made my 40th birthday…”

“You’re such an ass hole.”

“Errr, be nice or I’ll make it an hour.”

“Fuck you.” Katie snarled “JARVIS, I don’t want to hear from him again until this is fixed!”

“As you wish, Miss Stark.”

“Why is he such a dick?” She turned back to look at Steve, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

“He’s Tony.” Steve shrugged. “Hey, come on. It’s only 20 minutes. It’ll be ok.”

Katie took a deep breath before she let out a groan “My feet are killing me.”

“Take your shoes off then.”

Katie went to kick them off before she let out an exasperated noise. “Ankle straps…forgot…”

She went to bend down to undo them but Steve gently laid his hand on her arm.

“I’ll do it, Sweetheart.” He offered, dropping to his knees. He gently took her left foot, placed it on his thigh and undid the buckle on the gold leather that looped around her ankle. Once that was off he repeated the process with her right foot, and in doing so the slit on her dress revealed her leg to him once again and he couldn’t help but slide his eyes up her frame, over her tattoo which was peeking through the space in her dress and up to her face where her eyes locked onto his and he flashed her his best cheeky grin.

She arched an eyebrow at him, smirking “Down boy.”

Rising to his feet once her second shoe was removed, his hand traced up the outside of her bare leg through the slit in her dress, and continued underneath the soft material, before he stopped suddenly, hand on her hip and looked at her.

“You’re not wearing any panties.” His eyes were wide.

She shrugged “Would ruin the line of the dress.”

Steve let out a groan as he grabbed at her skin. “Seriously, you’ve had nothing on under there all night?”

“Nope.” she grinned at him.

“Doll.” His voice was a whine.

“What?” She looked at him, innocently “Not like anyone could see.”

“No, but it’s kind of a turn on.” he muttered, his hands moving so they were flat against the wall by her head.

“Yeah?” She asked, her eyes locking onto his.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, his lips nearing hers. “You know, we got 20 minutes.”

“Well, about fifteen now.”

“Good job I only need ten then isn’t it?” He smirked, his lips crashing onto hers. She kissed him back, hungrily as he pressed into her more, his hands creeping down to grab at her dress, hoisting the materiel upwards. His fingers softly caressing the outside of her thighs and his lips moved from hers to the pulse point of her neck and she gave a soft, sultry sigh. Steve couldn’t help but react to her noises and movements by pushing against her harshly, and the noise she made as his crotch rubbed up against her bare core was fucking sinful. His cock twitched but somewhere in his brain his logical mind crashed through.

“Fuck, are there cameras in here?”

“The power’s out, they won’t be working.” Katie mumbled, as her hands went to his belt buckle. “Shut up and stop thinking.”

With a clink she’d undone his belt and the top button of his flies, before she slid down the zip, pushing his suit pants down slightly over his hips. Her hand reached into his boxers and she grasped him in her hand and Steve let out a hiss.

“Buy a guy a drink first, Doll.” he mumbled, his lips returning to hers.

“I bought you plenty, not my fault it doesn’t have any affect coz of your stupid serum…”

“Stupid?” He grinned against her mouth before his lips and teeth skated over her jaw line to her neck “Not what you say after we’ve gone a few rounds.”

“Quit talking and fuck me, Steve.” She groaned, her head rolling back against the wall of the elevator. With a smirk Steve reached down, flipping the waistband of his boxers over before he grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her easily off her feet. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist, arms looped around his neck as he pressed her further against the wall using it to keep her supported as one hand gripped at her waist, the other flat against the cool metal behind her.

She rolled her hips, hard against him, causing Steve to let out a groan as his lips found hers again, hungrily kissing her while his hand skated from her hip over her bare stomach, reaching down to grab his cock before he lined himself up. With a swift drive forwards he pushed into her, a little forcefully, making her cry out sharply, one hand going to grip his bicep, the other against the wall to steady herself.

“Fuck…” she groaned as he pulled back, thrusting again, deeply as her head fell back with a bang against the wall. Steve reached round and unhooked the fastenings of her dress at the back causing it to fall forward, groaning as he found she was also bra-less.

“You’re a fucking minx.” He panted, his thrusts still deep and powerful as he gently circled a nipple with his tongue, teasing her with his mouth as she groaned, pushing down onto him further. She arched her back, the motion made him go deeper inside of her, drawling a loud moan from them both at the feeling.

“Stevie, you feel so good.” Katie moaned and he let out a groan of his own at her words, his thrusts still powerful, jolting her with every move he made. Her hands moved round to his back, clawing desperately at his shirt as her head fell forward and her teeth nipped at his ear drawing a deep rumbling growl from his throat. Her hands moved into his hair, where she pulled sharply back, jolting his lips from their current positioning on her chest so she could kiss him again, sloppily, messily.

He pushed up again, bottoming out once more and she cried out into his mouth and he gave a smirk as he looked at her, utterly wrapped up in the sensations she was feeling, and so was he. This woman was his absolute downfall.

“Fuck, Captain!”

Especially when she said that.

“Jesus, Doll.” his words were broken through his panting, and he watched as she gave another sultry growl, her head rolling back against the wall as her hands clamped onto his shoulders. Steve felt the tell-tale flutter of her clamping around him and he continued his fast, deep pace until she cried out, a loud scream before she dropped her head to his shoulder, moaning his name, again and again whilst he pounded through her orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Katie…I’m…fuck!” His words tumbled into her hair as his movements became desperate and he came with a force he wasn’t quite sure he’d felt before. His knees threatened to buckle but he managed to keep himself upright, pressing into her more as the pair of them struggled for breath. Katie watched him for a second, smiling to herself as those ridiculously long eyelashes fluttered against his flushed cheeks. Her fingers gently skated up his neck and into his hair as he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes remaining closed as he regained his composure.

“You good?” He asked her softly as he opened his crystal blue eyes to look at her, and she gave him a grin, nodding. Gently he set her back on her feet where she re-arranged her dress, and he sorted his pants out, tucking his shirt back in. Grabbing his jacket he gently placed it over her shoulders as he could see she was a little cold now, before he looked at her and gently brushed the tendrils of hair that had fallen over her face back. His hand on her cheek, his lips gently caught hers in a soft, tender kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones they had shared moments before.

“I love you.” He said softly, and he pulled her to him, nuzzling into her hair as he sighed.

“Love you too Soldier” She murmured, causing him to chuckle before the emergency lighting flickered and the main lights of the elevator flashed back on, causing them both to blink.

“We have movement Kiddo!” Tony’s voice rang round the elevator “Told you it wouldn’t be long…”

“It was long enough.” Katie replied back, winking at Steve who gave a snort of laughter as the elevator once more began to rise, before it stopped at their floor. Steve bent to retrieve Katie’s shoes, taking them both in his right hand as he offered her his left. Her fingers linked into his and he led them out of the elevator and into the apartment.

*****

“We all good J?” Tony asked, leaning back in his arm chair glancing at the screen which were projecting out of the coffee table in front of him. The levels seemed ok and everything was back online. He’d completely forgotten he’d scheduled that update and he hadn’t really been planning on dealing with it after he’d drunk so much. Still, even drunk he was a genius so…

“Yes, Sir. Systems are all back on line and Miss Stark and Captain Rogers are safely back in their apartment.”

Tony sighed. “I’ll be getting my ass kicked tomorrow for that.”

“I don’t doubt it sir.” JARVIS replied.

“Thanks J.” Tony smirked “Happy New Year buddy.””

“And to you Mr Stark. Seeing that it is, indeed, a New Year, would you permit me to give you some advice, Sir, to ensure it starts off in the best way possible?”

“Advice?” Tony frowned, before he shrugged, necking the scotch in his glass. “Sure, shoot.”

“May I suggest you delete the security footage from the Residential Elevator.” JARVIS spoke. “Miss Stark wrongly assumed that the power outage would cut the security systems. I’m not sure that the video of the twenty minutes they spent in the elevator should remain on file.”

Tony frowned for a moment, before he understood what JARVIS was implying and let out a low groan. “Gross.” he mumbled “Yeah, yeah, delete it, permanently. And then get someone in there to give the thing a deep clean.”

“Certainly Sir. Goodnight.”

“Night J.” He said, standing up. Tony stretched, looking down at the screens as they turned off before he gave a snort. “Happy New Year Kiddo.” he mumbled, before he headed into his bedroom to find Pepper.

****

The first slivers of the New Year daylight flitted across Steve’s face and he gave a soft hmmm of contentment, rolling over, pulling his girl closer. Nestling his face into her neck he allowed her warmth and softness to wash over him as Katie muttered something, her body soon relaxing again as she continued to sleep. Simply put, he couldn’t remember a time he had enjoyed the holiday period so much. He’d had good times as a kid, even though his Ma had never been able to afford much she had always made Christmas as special as she could, but this…this just felt good. More than good actually, it felt better than anything ever had before.

If Steve was honest he couldn’t ever imagine waking up next to anyone else. Not now, not ever. His Ma had always told him “When you know, Stevie, you know…” and he knew.

If this was how he spent every morning for the rest of his life, well Steve Rogers would die a happy man.

Last night had been their first proper public appearance as a couple at a formal event, there hadn’t been any others to attend really, and he knew there had been a few heads turning their way, but instead of the awkwardness he had expected to feel at all eyes being on him dancing with his girl, he’d hardly noticed. Everything had faded to black except the woman in his arms.

He placed a soft kiss to her shoulder as he continued to doze, feeling utterly relaxed. It was another hour or so before Katie stirred besides him, her legs stretching out, brushing against his and she shifted a little, before she tilted her head, brushing her nose against his.

“Morning, Handsome.” she whispered and he smiled, eyes closed, his lips pressing to hers in a soft, hardly there kiss.

“Morning, Beautiful.” he hummed as she turned in his arms, snuggling closer to him, her face pressing into her chest as his finger-tips brushed up and down her spine, before he gently caressed her neck and cheek. Then the the simple morning cuddles turned into something a little less innocent. Bruising kisses, teasing touches were shared as Steve gently rolled Katie over onto her back, his hands linking with hers as he pressed them into the pillow at the side of her head before sliding home. It was lazy, gentle, loving as he kissed every single part of her he could reach, thrusting up against that spot over and over before he felt the tell-tale signs, heard her breathing turn ragged, shallow as she gently encouraged him not to stop, declaring how good she made him feel, how much she loved him. With a soft cry of his name, that pet name, Stevie, she tumbled straight over the edge she’d been teetering on and with a quiet groan that rolled in his throat he followed, his hips stuttering before he gently fell forward, burying his face into her neck as her hands softly tangled in his hair.

An hour or so later, after a shower they were sat on the sofa eating breakfast when Katie heard her phone going off. Reaching for it she frowned and then smiled a little…before she smiled a lot.

“Stevie, look.” She said gently, handing him the phone. He took it from her and blinked a little before he too felt the grin spreading across his face as he looked at the photo. It was one taken of them the previous night as they had been dancing. His girl looked good, as always, but Steve felt his eyes drawn to his own face, the look of unadulterated love on his features was something he wasn’t overly shocked to see, but at the same time it surprised him a little. He had no idea he made himself that easy to read.

“Who took that?” he asked, his eyes flicking to Katie.

“Tony said the photographer did.” she smiled “He just emailed it to me along with the message, and I quote ‘Thought you might like to see this one. Pepper thinks its cute but the puppy love eyes Spangles is giving you make me wanna barf.’”

Steve snorted and rolled his eyes, although he couldn’t give less of a shit about Tony’s starkasm if he tried.

“They’re looking at ones to put on the Stark Industries website, they always publish a gallery you know for people to see and stuff.” Katie continued “Do you mind if they use it?”

“Why would I mind?” he asked, handing her the phone back.

“Well, I know you’re a private person…well, behind all the Star Spangled man bullshit that is.” she shrugged.

“It’s fine Doll.” he said, “On one condition.” “What’s that?”

“Can I get a copy?” he asked, “I’d kinda like one for my apartment.”

She grinned and placed her phone back down on the coffee table. “I already emailed Tony back asking for two.”

Steve chuckled and leaned over to place a kiss to her cheek. “I love you.”

“You too.” she smiled, turning her lips to catch his.

***** Chapter 13

**Original Postings 1 2 3 ***

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #steve rogers smut #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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sushiandstarlight · 4 years

Text

Lockdown Voicemails

Read this story on AO3

There was an extremely annoying sound blaring outside his cocoon of blankets. No matter how much he growled and hissed at it, the sound wouldn’t cease. In fact, it was only getting louder.

Crowley reached out and grasped his phone, swiping the alarm off without even looking. He drug his now-cold arm with the phone back into the warmth of the blankets and sighed. Maybe five more minutes. What was five more minutes after months of sleeping?

He gave up on it two minutes in, an antsiness spreading out into his limbs making them want to move and slither. He pulled the phone up in front of his face and blinked a few times to clear his vision only to startle and sit up, throwing the blankets back.

There were 24 missed calls, all from Aziraphale. His heart started racing, thinking something had gone horribly wrong while he slept. But, really, if it was something so bad surely Aziraphale would have popped over and woke him up, right? He jabbed the first voicemail:

“Ah, I see I did miss you. I had hoped, well... I had hoped to catch you before your nap,” and here Aziraphale’s voice waiver and lowered a bit, “It is just a nap, I hope. I hope you won’t be gone until July. Just... er, just call me back when you get up, I suppose? Okay.”

Crowley stared at the phone. So, Aziraphale had been okay on May 2nd. That was good. He tapped the second message:

“I guess you were telling the truth about your nap until July. That’s okay, really. I mean there’s not much to do, is there? I was enjoying my baking... The whole process and, of course, the tasting. I don’t know. It’s lost a bit of it’s shine, I’m afraid. I thought about leaving some of my cakes on the neighbor’s stoops. Not sure how well that would be received. Is that a thing humans do anymore? Unprecedented times, they keep saying,” there was a long pause where Crowley could hear him breathing, “I suppose that’s it then. I hope you’re resting well.”

He scrolled down a few voicemails and tapped the one from the last day of May.

“I spent some time reading human accounts of ‘ancient Rome’ today,” Aziraphale began without preamble; Crowley thought he sounded tired, “not all accurate, but they do a pretty good job for what information they have. Doesn’t quite capture the feel of the time. You can’t capture the feeling if you haven’t experienced a culture though, can you? Do you... do you remember the oysters? I thought they were divine, but I remember your face when you tried them.” There’s a soft chuckle and then, “I miss our dinners. Ordering in isn’t the same, even if I can get whatever I want these days.” There was another pause and then a click.

Crowley’s heart was doing a funny little sideways wobble. That was the end of May. He was a little afraid to click the next few messages. Maybe... maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to leave Aziraphale behind just to skip a few months. He scrolled past a few more voicemails and tapped one for the middle of June. There was hardly a sound at first, but an occasional soft sigh or the creak of floorboards gave away that someone was there, pacing. Crowley held the phone closer.

“... the thing is, as you say... I miss you, Crowley. I don’t miss our dinners so much. I can order in what I like. I don’t miss the plays; I can ‘stream’ those. A lot of museums are putting so many interesting things on the internet for me to visit. I can have the majority of the world right here in my bookshop with me. Imagine, human ingenuity,” Crowley swears he can actually hear Aziraphale swallow hard over the phone, “But you’re over there sleeping and I miss your company. Which is silly, isn’t it? We’ve gone longer apart, I know...” there’s another near-silent pause before Aziraphale seems to collect himself, “Do give me a ring when you wake up, dear.”

Crowley rubbed his eyes with his free hand because they were itching from being closed for so long. It’s the brightness of the phone, that’s all. Still, his chest is aching solidly now. There were a couple more messages before the last one and he skips those, opting to listen to the one from two days ago.

“It’s- It’s nearly July now. I find myself a bit excited to hear from you. I hope you don’t hit the snooze,” the laugh that follows sounds hollow and a bit forced, “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, though. Especially if you check the news before your phone. Things are not... they’re not as far along as we’d hoped. I mean, the world is trying to open back up. Humans treat economies like living things, you know. Some of the sellers on the street have lost their shops. And, one of them got sick. She’s still in hospital. I would like to visit her... maybe help... but they aren’t allowing visitors due to the infectiousness of the virus...” there’s another one of those long, painful pauses that gnaws at Crowley’s chest before, “When you wake up you’re more than welcome to come here now. I should have... I should have let you pop over to begin with. It’s still hard to remember, sometimes... that there aren’t rules for us now. Not even human rules, really. You can drive as fast as you like in London. We can’t get sick. You can come here. I wish. I wish you’d come here. Call me when you’re up, won’t you?”

Crowley tossed his phone and the blankets aside, sliding to the edge of the bed and rubbing his face with both hands. Taking a nap had been a mistake. He should have insisted and tempted the angel into giving in. That’s what he always had done, wasn’t it? Spin words differently until something that had sounded impossible started to sound like something allowed. It was just that, after everything, he had wanted Aziraphale to invite him willingly. But, what had that stubbornness really accomplished? With a snap of his fingers he was clean and dressed. He grabbed a few of his things and a bottle of wine and headed for the Bentley.

Strangely, a knock at the door of the bookshop door yielded no answer. Crowley had seen plenty of humans out and about on the streets on his way here. Maybe the angel had gone out at last. Still, it was being advertised as a bad idea, so he didn’t think that was the case. He snapped open the door and crept inside, locking it again behind him. The bookshop was dark and still inside. He kept walking through the maze of books and the collected clutter of all the angel’s lifetimes.

He found Aziraphale in a pool of light in the back room. He was curled up at the end of the sofa where they’d spent so many nights talking and drinking. A blanket was draped over his lap and a book that had been in his hands was now on the floor. He was sleeping, unbelievably. Crowley had never seen him sleep before. But, here he was: asleep with his silly little glasses still on.

Crowley set the wine down on a side table and stooped down to pick up the book, closing it gently and setting in on the sofa beside Aziraphale. He didn’t stand back up, instead crouching there and observing his friend: his face was lax in sleep, all the fussy lines smoothed out. Crowley found he would rather have those lines back if it meant he could see his eyes. He reached out and gently shook the angel’s knee.

Aziraphale startled which made Crowley jump, losing his balance and pitching backwards to sit on the floor.

“Crowley!”

“Yes, it’s me!”

“Oh!” Aziraphale flustered, going about straightening his bow tie and his collar, “How did you... Did you really pop over here?”

“You were asleep.”

“Nonsense, I don’t sleep.”

“You rarely sleep.”

“I don’t sleep at all. You sleep. For months.” There was a hurt edge to his voice that cut where the voicemails had ached. He had. He had left him alone here for months.

“Okay, you weren’t asleep. I just snuck up on you. Very sneaky, me.” He was back up on his knees now, unsure what to do with his hands. He wanted to touch, but that hadn’t seemed so welcomed a moment before.

“That isn’t much better, is it?” Aziraphale was fiddling with the edges of he blanket in his lap, “Did you have a good nap?”

“Nothing to speak of, really, I was unconscious,” Crowley wanted to rest his hands on Aziraphale’s knees at least, some form of grounding connection, instead he tried to use words, “I’m sorry-”

“I do apologize-”

They shared a long look.

“I’m glad you didn’t oversleep,” Aziraphale swallowed glancing from Crowley’s eyes to his own lap, “It’s been a long couple of months...”

Crowley placed a hand on one knee and when that wasn’t met with more than a cautious gaze he grasped the other and gave it a squeeze.

“I would rather have been here. I’m glad to be here now, with you.”

“I’m relieved you’re here. I missed you terribly, Crowley.” Soft, impossibly warm hands covered his own and Crowley’s heart gave a lurch.

“Next time,” Crowley watched more lines cross the angel’s face, “if there is a next time, I mean. Next time I’ll set my phone so you can ring through.”

“Oh, would you?”

“Anything, Angel, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Maybe next time- if there is a next time,” Aziraphale pulled back his hands and fussed with them in his lap, “Next time you could just sleep here. So I... So I know where you are.”

“I could do that, too,” Crowley’s voice sounded rough even to him. The distance between them, though scant, was still unnerving him. He stood slowly and sat beside Aziraphale, knee pressed against his thigh, “You sounded so sad on the phone. I should’ve been there to answer. I won’t make that mistake again, I promise.”

There was a pause.

“You believe me?”

“I do. You haven’t lied to me yet.”

Crowley felt his shoulder’s relax for the first time since he’d started listening to the messages on his phone.

“So, tell me: you’ve been here all this time wishing I was here, yeah? What would you like to do? I brought some wine! We could play some board games. Promise not to cheat... overly much.” Crowley smiled at him, hoping to draw a smile from the angel.

Aziraphale smiled a little and then a worried shadow crossed over his face.

“Whatever you want, I’m at your disposal: a fully charged demon.”

“I... you don’t have to, you know? It’s okay if you don’t want to,” Aziraphale was rambling on like Crowley usually did and that was unnerving to say the least, “Could I... well, could I hold you?”

Crowley’s brain fizzled to a stop.

“You can say no,” Aziraphale’s breaths were coming faster now and he was blinking rapidly, “you don’t have to.”

Crowley sat up and threw a knee over Aziraphale’s lap so he could settle into it.

“Oh.”

“Whatever you want. I meant it.” Crowley watched for a moment as Aziraphale took him in, drinking him in really. Then the angel was reaching for him and pulling him into a tight hug. Crowley snuggled closer to him, burying his face in the angel’s shoulder.

“You’re what I want,” one warm hand was on Crowley’s back while the other was stroking up into his hair, “I missed you and now I only want to know you’re here.”

“m’here,” Crowley murmured into the shoulder he was pressed into, arms looping around Aziraphale’s neck, “Not going anywhere.”

Aziraphale squeezed him again and Crowley felt the tension in the angel’s body drain out, taking his along with it.

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens #good omens fic #ineffable husbands #good omens lockdown #star light-reads

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geekgirles · 3 years

Text

Your Heart

Chapter 8 -- Aftershocks

Word Count: 13482

READ ON AO3

Margaret’s quarters had to be one of the most glamourous in the entire manor. Designed to be a duplex, it consisted of two different spacesーthree, if you count the bathroomーthe lower floor held the living room, and the higher one was where the Council member’s actual bedroom was.

The living room resembled that of a wealthy family’s. A deep red velvet hue gave a touch of colour to the walls, which were decorated by several portraits revealing pieces of contemporary art. Now, Sam loved going to museums and culture in general, but she couldn’t identify what the artists had tried to portray to save her life. When asking about the meaning of one of the paintings, Margaret once told her it was an allegory to the passage of time. How could a smear of red, a blue smudge, and a black, straight line mean any of that she had no idea.

Questionable taste in decor aside, Margaret’s quarters also consisted of a parquet flooring that always seemed to have been recently varnished, so shiny and clean one could eat from it. Just from a small glimpse at her room, one could guess the older witch had a weakness for rococo furniture; a set of golden couches and chairs with cream upholstery was scattered around the place. A backless seat was in front of the piano at the far corner of the room, a loveseat could be seen located under a particularly large painting, Sam and Margaret were both seated, one in front of the other, on two chairs…

Ironically for someone as elegant and graceful as Margaret, all her plants were made of plastic. Grandma Ida had once told her in confidence the clan’s best spellcaster was also the worst gardener she’d ever seen. According to her grandma, when Margaret was still just a witch in training her teachers ended up forbidding her from getting near to their supplies of mandrake; she always killed them all and the plant was very difficult to find.

At the far corner of the room, to the side of the piano, a white staircase with a golden banister led to the Council member’s room. What secrets her bedroom held, however, Sam didn’t know. Margaret was very particular about who she let in on her personal life, and bedrooms were extremely personal.

Which was enough of a hint to understand she hadn’t been called just to chat and have some tea with her. “Your Majesty,” Margaret broke her out of her musings and from inspecting her personal chambers, “I understand you already know why I have summoned you here, correct?”

Even when she was about to scold her, the older witch always looked like the epitome of grace and dignity. They were currently seated on two of her rococo chairs, which Sam had to admit, were pretty but not necessarily comfortable; a coffee table with a porcelain tea set alongside different types of biscuits, scones (a favourite of Margaret since she spent some time abroad in London in her youth), and sandwiches were in full display in between the two.

Knowing how seriously Margaret took table manners, Sam put her teacup on its respective plate before delicately placing both down on the coffee table. “I have an inkling as to why that might be.”

The African-American woman’s perfect posture never faltered. “In that case, I will get straight to the point: sending Miss Baker and Miss Zhou back home while you were left alone with the Ghost King was unbelievably unwise.”

Sam couldn’t help but wince when Margaret’s forest green eyes laid on her, an icy quality to them. “I understand your concern, Margaret, believe me, I do, but…”

“‘But?’” Margaret cut her off, raising an eyebrow as her cup of tea was halfway to her mouth. “Your Majesty, in case you forgot, you are our queen. Amity Park clan’s leader. Dozens of women depend on you for guidance. Your sole presence keeps us from going to war over the throne!”

Unable to hear the same things over and over, the young queen turned her head to the side, as if pained by her words. “I know, I know.” She raised a hand to silence her. “Margaret, you needn’t remind me the very reason why I even stepped up to become queen. Keeping the clan from succumbing to chaos and honouring my grandmother are my main motivations for everything I do.”

“You and me both know that, my Queen.” Margaret conceded, stirring her second cup of tea. “But that does not change the fact that what you did was foolish. However, I also know that you never do anything without reason, so I am willing to hear it.”

With a gesture of her hand, she motioned for Sam to explain herself. Sighing, the violet-eyed girl did just that. “I know my life is precious, but the circumstances were dire and even now I can’t shake the feeling that it’s a miracle I’m even alive.”

“Forgive me, your Majesty. But I fail to see how that is helping your case.” The green-eyed woman pointed out. Deep down she knew Sam probably had a good reason for doing what she did, but as second-in-command, it was her duty to ensure their queen never made a mistake like that ever again.

“I’m getting there, I promise.” Sam hastily said.

With a nod, Margaret gestured for her to continue. “I don’t feel comfortable putting my safety before others’ just because of my position.” She finished, and even Margaret’s stoic mask cracked a little at the revelation. “Stephanie and Susan were with me, Margaret. They were in as much danger as I was, I couldn’t risk their lives like that.”

“Miss Zhou and Miss Baker both volunteered to escort you to your visits to the Ghost Zone, your Majesty.” Her fellow Council member reminded her in between sips. “Had anything happened to them, they were just doing their job.”

“And I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing their loyalty would force them to pay such a high price.”

Margaret was about to take another sip of her tea when Sam’s solemn words made her eyes widen. Looking over at her, she noticed her tense posture, her stiff shoulders, her slim fingers clutching tightly at the fabric of her black and purple plaid skirt...And the resolution in her eyes. The older witch could’ve sworn she saw the same fire that was so characteristic of her grandmother in Sam’s violet gaze.

Unaware of the reaction she’d caused to the woman in front of her, Sam went on. “I’m the queen, Margaret. It’s my duty to make sure our people are safe. How do you expect me to just leave them behind, not knowing if they’ll even make it alive!? Even if the black hole had been taken care of without my assistance and they would’ve been safe from it, how do we know the ghosts wouldn’t have taken advantage of the chaos to attack them?!

“Even if I have a feeling King Phantom would’ve tried to protect them, it was still too risky. I would never have been able to live with myself if anything had happened to them because, somehow, my life’s more important than theirs!”

Setting her now cold teacup down, the African-American witch clasped her hands together on her lap. She regarded the young queen with a face that betrayed no emotion. “Your Majesty, you do realise every single one of your points can also be applied to your own situation, right? Just like Miss Baker and Miss Zhou could have been in danger at the hands of the ghosts, so could have you. Except an attempt against your life would be grounds for going to war.”

Knowing she was right, Sam averted her gaze to the side. Suddenly that one painting with the impossible-to-understand analogy on the passage of time seemed much more interesting than ten minutes ago.

Margaret sighed as she stood up. Her high heels clicking against the parquet, she hovered over Sam, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Samantha, I know choosing what is best for our people is hard, especially if it comes into conflict with our personal beliefs and desires, but duty must come first.”

The young sorceress started at the sound of her full name. She really hated being called ‘Samantha’, but knew that was the most personal Margaret would ever get with her, so it'd only be rude of her to complain. “I know,” she sighed dejectedly. “I know, it’s just...I can’t just do that to them! Susan is still just a teenager; no matter how good of a potion-maker and warrior she is, she’s still too young. She has so much to live, I can’t afford to make her miss out on all that for my sake…”

“But what about Miss Baker? I believe you two are the same age; you both still have so much to live, as well.”

“You mean Stephanie still has so much to live for. I gave up on that a long time ago…” Sam couldn’t resist the urge to scoff.

Even if all witches had to make compromises to balance their lives inside and outside of the coven, Sam’s entire life had revolved around giving up on one passion after the other. Growing up she couldn’t make friends because other girls weren’t allowed to go near the queen’s granddaughter. Her world was reduced to the manor and her house, to her family and her teachers, to her lessons and the very scarce moments where she could pretend she was a kid like any other. After her grandma died, under the threat of her coven falling into anarchy until they found a new leader, she sacrificed her one chance at a relatively normal life in exchange of being elected the future queen. For four years her extensive studying and isolation were self-imposed; the only times she allowed herself to take a break where her birthday ーso her dad wouldn’t get suspicious as to what was so important she couldn’t celebrate her own birthdayーand the anniversary of her grandma’s death; because there was no way she’d ever have the energy to work on the most painful day of the year. And now that she was queen, every waking moment was dedicated to looking after her people.

Stephanie was just a shy girl who loved books. Between the two of them, she was the only one who really had a chance at experiencing life outside of the manor’s walls. And Sam refused to be the reason why she lost that chance.

Understanding dawning on her, Margaret’s face softened. “Your motives were noble, my Queen, and I am sure the Baker and Zhou families are extremely grateful for having their children returned to them. Just try to keep in mind that with great power comes great responsibility, and more often than not, that means making sacrifices for the greater good.”

As the spellcaster went back to her chair, Sam could only stare after her like she’d just nonchalantly revealed the meaning of life to her. “...did you just quote Spider-Man?”

Picking her teacup back up, she just chuckled in amusement. “I am a woman of culture, your Majesty. Now, pour yourself another cup of tea or help yourself to some snacks, before it gets cold.”

Reaching over for the kettle to pour some more tea on her cup at the same time as she started munching on a vegetarian sandwich, a comfortable silence settled between them. The only sounds disturbing the quiet atmosphere were the occasional sound of sipping and of plates clattering. In the midst of the silence, Sam’s mind couldn’t help but race back to the moment right after Phantom stopped the blackhole.

She wasn’t lying when she told Margaret she believed he wouldn’t have let anything happen to Susan and Stephanie, for her own protection seemed to be one of his top priorities. That and their last interaction before she returned to Earth had been replaying inside her head over the last several hours.

As she and Phantom stared at each other, unbeknownst to them, both thinking that they could indeed make things work as long as they worked together, Sam’s mind unexpectedly wandered to uncharted territory. Now that she was looking at him up close, a part of her had to agree with all the fangirls who’d squeal every time Phantom appeared on TV; he was quite handsome.

It was undeniable that the Ghost King’s defined physique was anything but hard on the eyes. She didn’t know what it was, but something about himーmaybe the inches he had on her, or maybe the way he’d pressed her close to his chest earlier when he was trying to put her to safety, or maybe the intensity of his neon green eyesーmade her feel safe.

Now that they weren’t separated by a large table and a few feets of distance, Sam could appreciate his chiseled jaw and how his Adam’s apple moved up and down when he gulped, sending a heatwave straight to her very core. His intoxicating eyes no longer looked at her with suspicion and disdain, but with gratefulness and with a candour whose origins she couldn’t quite identify, and at that very moment she was sure nothing would’ve been able to get her to tear her own violet gaze away from them. His shock-white hair alongside his characteristically ghostly glowーthat glow she used to interpret as a warning sign; a reminder of his true natureーall of a sudden made him look ethereal, otherworldly. Like a guardian from beyond sent to protect everyone from evil. Like...Like…

Like an angel.

And his lips...Oh, God. They were so inviting. The mere thought of kissing those lips was incredibly exhilarating. From where she stood, Sam could already imagine his lips on hers, coming together in a slow, passionate dance; their touch so rough and yet so gentle; both breathing her to life and leaving her breathless; and the way he was moving them at that very moment only helped in further cementing her beliefsーwait a minute. They were moving?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” Sam exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, shaking her hands before her and already feeling the scorching heat on her cheeks. She barely resisted the urge to facepalm herself. What was she thinking?! Drooling over Phantom? Fantasising with kissing him?! Did she lose her mind?! Maybe he wasn’t as bad as she originally believedーshe was still debating on itーbut he was still a ghost. And ghosts and witches didn’t mix, especially like that. Hell, not even when they were still allies did a ghost and a witch ever end up together!

Noticing the Ghost King staring at her quizzically, the witch cleared her throat in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly.

Phantom’s eyes shot open at that. “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Sam told him, missing the way his eyes softened at her words. She put a little distance between the two, ready to cast the spell that would send her home, when Phantom’s voice stopped her in her tracks. Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of herself, the young witch couldn’t help but give him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

The relieved expression he sent her way sent her heart aflutter. Feeling the blush coming back, she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!” Again, she was getting ready to leave when Phantom’s voice stopped her.

“Wait, Lady Arcana!”

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

Against her better judgement, Sam’s expression softened. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

She could almost feel how every individual cell in her body separated before being rearranged again. The tingling sensation was similar to when she’d phased through Phantom’s lair, except it was warm rather than chilly. Spellcasting felt like being cocooned in a thousand blankets inside your home during a particularly cold winter night, while the sensation brought by ghost powers was akin to sticking your head into the freezer when it was 104 º outside.

Both experiences were incredibly pleasant, albeit drastically different from one another.

When Sam opened her eyes, everything was mayhem.

She’d arrived in the middle of the Grand Hall inside 917 Maplestreet, and every single witch present was looking straight at her. Judging from their positionsーsome had risen from their seats, their hands slamming the tables; others had their arms raised as if making suggestions or waiting for their turns to speak up; a few were arguing amongst themselves…ー, she’d just interrupted a council meeting. Most likely to discuss her current situation.

Oh, great.

“Your Majesty!” A voice cried out, and Sam almost fell back upon impact, for someone had slammed into her chest with great force, almost knocking the wind out of her.

Looking down, she realised the iron grip she suddenly found herself in belonged to none other than Susan. The poor thing was sobbing and hiccuping uncontrollably against her chest. Automatically, Sam put her own arms around her in an attempt to sooth her. With how fierce and disciplined she usually was, it was easy to forget she was, technically, still a kid. She had much to learn before she became completely desensitised to the world’s horrors.

“It’s fine, Susan.” The queen soothed, caressing her hair. “I’m fine.”

Right at that moment, the room erupted in a row of applause and cheering, alongside many questions directed her way. Before Sam could so much as tell them to speak one at a time, she felt something being discreetly slipped under her dress. Turning her head to the side in surprise, she found herself face to face with Stephanie. “Welcome home, your Majesty. I am so glad you have returned.”

When the strawberry blonde winked at her, Sam understood everything. Steph had taken advantage of the current chaos, and of her tied up skirt, to return Arcana’s Grimoire to her. Sam couldn’t help but smile; she was worth much more than people often gave her credit for.

Paulina and Star almost tripped over themselves trying to reach her. Rushing to her side, both simultaneously looking panicked and relieved beyond belief, the moment they reached her side they started fussing about her personal care, promising to prepare a warm bubble bath immediately.

“Your Majesty!” Paulina exclaimed in between pants, “You have no idea how glad we are that you’re back!”

“Totally,” Star agreed beside her friend, nodding but equally winded. “One minute Pauli was trash-talking Ms. Gorilla, and the next news reached us that you hadn’t returned from the Ghost Zone!”

“I’m sorry,” a sultry voice from behind startled them, while Sam shook her head in pity, anticipating what was to come, “you were doing what?” Delilah asked the two ladies-in-waiting sharply, her unforgiving eyes narrowed on them.

The Witch Queen could only roll her eyes knowingly at the way Paulina and Star flinched upon noticing the shapeshifter heard them. ‘Ms. Gorilla’, as Star helpfully supplied when they were assigned to her upon becoming the clan leader, was a moniker Paulina had come up with at the height of her jealousy towards the stunning Council member. Sam, despite her love for animals and nature, hadn’t noticed until they pointed it out, but Delilah shared her name with the famous Purple Back Gorilla that was discovered to be female by a high school student working on extra credit back when she was fourteen.

The thing is, as good-natured and laid-back as Delilah could be, she did not appreciate being compared to such a majestic creature. “I’m waiting, Miss Anderson. What did you say you were doing before you heard the news?”

From where she stood, still being held by Susan’s iron grip, Sam could see how Star was beginning to sweat. The blonde usually didn’t have trouble saying what she thought of others, even if it was mean-spirited or uncalled for, but even she knew it was foolish to anger another witch, especially when her position was much higher than hers.

Squirming under the shapeshifter’s harsh glare, the handmaiden couldn’t do anything but stutter. “Uh...um...w-well...we...we were…and the...the gorilla...b-but then...” She trailed off, luckily for her, Paulina chose that very moment to jump in on the conversation.

“We were just talking about the new gorilla-inspired fashion collection!” The Latina lied and, if you listened closely, you could hear the way her already pronounced accent thickened. Paulina was a good liar, but even she sometimes had trouble working under pressure. “It’s absolutely fabulous! Almost as much as your blouse,” she complimented as she reached out to touch the fabric, “Is it new?”

Unamused, Delilah decided against pushing the issue...for now. Gently swatting the Latina’s hand away from her clothes, she directed a much kinder expression towards Sam. “It’s good to have you back, my Queen. We were worried sick for your safety.”

The violet-eyed queen smiled in return. “It’s good to be back.”

Suddenly, an imposing voice made itself heard from the other side of the room. Heads snapping to the origin of the sound, everyone’s eyes landed on Margaret standing with her hands behind her back by the entrance. She looked as poised and collected as usual.

Somehow, Sam knew she was in for a world of trouble.

“Your Majesty,” Margaret began, and her voice commanded such respect a pin drop could be heard in the middle of the previously loud room, “you have no idea how grateful we are for your safe return. If what Miss Zhou and Miss Baker told us is true,” both witches at her side sent their queen an apologetic look, “then you must be exhausted. Please, after you’re well-rested, come tomorrow to my personal chambers.” She ordered, because she didn’t even ask for an answer, before turning away. Just as she was about to leave the room, she called out over her shoulder, “We have much to discuss.”

Oh, yeah. She was indubitably, thoroughly screwed.

Her instincts were proven correct the moment she was given the third degree by the woman in front of her. As she pondered Margaret’s previous words, however, a question materialised itself inside Sam’s mind.

Furrowing her brow, she called out to her fellow Council member. “Margaret?”

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“You said we more often than not have to make sacrifices in the name of the greater good, even if it goes against our personal beliefs and desires…” she started carefully, looking down at her cup. “Have you ever had to sacrifice something you cared deeply about or wanted desperately for the sake of the coven?”

For a moment, the silence had returned, only it now hung heavily over them, when just a few minutes it’d been comfortable. After a few minutes had passed and she still received no answer, Sam was about to ask again when Margaret finally answered. “Yes, I have.”

Her head shooting at her uncharacteristically lifeless voice, Sam almost gasped. Before her, Margaret wore the saddest expression she’d ever seen of her face. Her deep, green eyes, usually so vibrant and full of colour, were now bleak and devastated, reminiscent of a forest after a wildfire. The otherwise calm and collected Council member now looked heartbroken and desolate, like a piece of her was missing. Margaret certainly wasn’t crying, but she seemed so miserable Sam could feel tears of her own stinging her eyes.

“I...I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh...right! O-of course. Don’t worry.” The lavender-eyed witch hastily said, too shell shocked to be more eloquent. Margaret never used contractions when talking to her.

Margaret acknowledged her with a respectful nod of her head. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Then she went back to drinking her tea.

Deciding it’d be best to imitate her and pretend nothing had happened, Sam couldn't help but wonder what might’ve happened to Margaret to make her so miserable. But above all else, she could only hope she’d never have to sacrifice the same thing. Somehow, she had a feeling death would be less painful.

...........

The forest in the outskirts of Amity Park could be described as anything but a walk in the park. The tree trunks knotted and twisted, forming shapes made out of the stuff of nightmares. The wind rustling the leaves sounded like a ghostly wail, not unlike Danny’s, albeit much quieter. That only made it more sinister. And the sound of twigs, dead leaves, and fallen tree branches crunching beneath had him frantically looking around for the slightest sign of danger. Since it was mid-October, nearing Halloween, the weather was beginning to change as well. For instance, temperatures were starting to drop from the cool yet warm ones that reigned during late September, and the first fall rainstorm hit the town just the night before.

And since it’d just rained the night before, that meant Tucker was now stepping on mud. He was stepping on mud with his new boots on. He was stepping on mud and getting his new boots that cost him a fortune, mind you, dirty. Already irritated and spooked beyond belief, he called out to the person walking in front of him, “Care to remind me why the fuck I didn’t turn you down on your invitation to, and I quote, ‘a fun fieldtrip?’”

Stopping momentarily to look over her shoulder, Jazz scolded him, “Language.” With that out of the way, she turned her head back around and kept on walking through the forest. “And to answer your question, you agreed to come with me because you want to help Danny as much as I do.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, taking advantage of her back, turned to him, and followed her close behind. “Yeah, that I know. What I mean to say is, how is hiking aimlessly around the woods going to do anything to help Danny?!”

They’d been trekking around that damned forest for three hours, with absolutely nothing to guide them but an old, probably outdated, map some ranger had given to Jazz back at the information booth. Three hours wandering around a forest that was creepier than Mr. Lancer’s ‘sculptured summer physique’ back in summer camp, and the most resting they’d done was when Jazz would suddenly halt to check the map or crouch down to get some samples.

Just like she was doing at that very moment. “Look at this, Tucker. Ocimum basilicum!” She reached her hand out to show it to him before putting it inside a little glass jar. She brought the jar close to her face. “Did you know in Christianity this plant is said to have sprouted when Jesus’ blood fell to the ground?”

“No, I didn’t know that.” The technopath said, unimpressed. “What I do know is that Ocimum basilicum and basil are the exact same thing! Care to tell me why you’re so transfixed on a mere spice? As much as I love myself a good pizza, even I have to admit this is just ridiculous.”

Sliding her backpack across her shoulder, the redhead put away the basil. With that taken care of, she sent her friend a bored look, standing up from the floor and coming to stand beside him. “It’s important because it’sー.”

“‘It’s going to help Danny.’” Tucker finished for her, doing a poor impression of her voice. “You said that over a million times already! Can you at least tell me how it’s going to help Danny?”

Jazz looked away, sulking. “Because...because it just is, okay?! Trust me, Tucker, I know what I’m doing.”

But the African American young man wasn’t buying it. That answer was far too childish, especially coming from someone like Jazz, who’d been acting like someone twice her age for almost as long as he could remember. Something was definitely off.

“But what could it be?” He asked himself as they resumed their march. She said she knew what she was doing, and that was all great and dandy, except he had no idea what they were doing! He was the technician of the team, his specialty were computers, viruses, and thwarting technology-dependent ghosts’ plans! He was not made to hike, looking for God knows what, in the middle of a forest!

And Jazz?! He barely held back a scoff. No matter how much more physically adept than him she was, the eldest Fenton was no field agent, either. For years, her way of assisting Danny in ghost-hunting had been through research, bringing back-up,helping work out the tricky details in their plans, now she was obsessed with finding out more about the witches…

Wait a minute.

Tucker stopped dead in his tracks, fists curled at his sides and a very angry glare directed at the back of the head of his best friend’s older sister appeared on his face. “You dragged me here to help you research witches and avoid Danny’s wrath.”

It wasn’t a question and she knew it. Wincing at the, accurate, accusation, the redhead turned around slowly. “I...I have no idea what you’re talking about…” She tried playing dumb.

In an instant, Tucker got in her face, wagging a chastising finger at her. “Oh, don’t you dare play innocent, little missy! You might have been able to fool your parents all these years, but that’s only because they’re surprisingly gullible. You can’t fool me; we’re here to research witches aren’t we?”

Looking down on the floor, Jazz ultimately gave in, sighing. “Yes, we are.”

“And I’m guessing Danny knows nothing about this which is why; first, you went out of your way to organise this on my free day, which, for the record, also happens to be the day Danny’s schedule is packed; second, you wouldn’t tell me why we’re here; and third, you’re just picking random things up, because not even you know what you’re looking for.”

She bit her lip, knowing she’d been caught. She always forgot how observant Tucker could be. “Maybe?”

“Jazz!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?!” She snapped. “I know I shouldn’t have lied to you or Danny, but I just can’t sit idly by and watch as he enters the lion’s den, completely unprepared!” She stepped closer to Tucker, looking him dead in the eye. “You know Danny, Tucker. He shoulders everything and refuses to let us help. Please, you have to understand; I have to help my little brother.”

Looking down at her pleading eyes, the techno geek’s own teal orbs softened. He did understand. He really wished Danny would let them help more often. It was just painful watching him come back looking like death, knowing he’d been sticking his neck out for a town that didn’t always appreciate him, and not being able to do much because even then he was protecting them.

It was maddening, really.

Sighing, he grabbed Jazz by her shoulders, trying to show her just how much he understood her plight. “Listen, I know how you feel. You know I know how you feel. But we gotta make sure us going behind Danny’s back will really be for his own good. We can’t just wander aimlessly with no real plan in mind! Never mind how good our intentions are.” Seeing as she only stared at him, unblinkingly, he sighed and let her go. “Face it, Jazz. We’re about as lost as Danny when it comes to witches.”

He was sure what he said would be discouraging, hence why he didn’t understand the way her eyes lit up. “That’s where you’re wrong!” She exclaimed just as she started rummaging through her backpack. After a few seconds, she pulled a book out. “This is a book on plants, arthropods, and other ingredients traditionally used by witches in folklore. If we find a place where many of said ingredients grow or inhabit, we might know where to find them!”

“Right…” he drawled, he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to keep Jazz from her goal. “Because there’s no way a group of women from the 21st century have learned to grow or breed those things from the comfort of their homes.” He deadpanned in response. “Is that why we’re here? To look for a bunch of plants and insects?”

Her right hand still clutching the book close to her chest, the other hand fisted on her hip, Jazz sent him an irritated look. “As a matter of fact, I was thinking the witches’ lair could actually be around here.”

Tucker’s brows shot up at that. “What makes you think that?”

“Because it’s tradition!” She exclaimed, before pulling her phone out of her pocket and shoving it in his face. “Did you know Baba Yaga was said to inhabit the Russian forests?”

Glaring at her, he carefully got her phone out of his face. “Yeah...She was also said to be an old hag, with a blue nose, and a bone leg. Pretty sure the Witch Queen Danny meets up with is supposed to be quite the looker. So, try something else.”

Jazz pouted, before trying to come up with a theory that would please him. “Well, what if there are Russian witches in Amity Park? Maybe they stayed true to tradition, taking advantage of the locals’ ignorance to remain inconspicuous.”

“Nice theory,” he clapped sarcastically, “only one tiny, itsy, bitsy detail, though. I doubt the Cold War made it easy for Russian witches to move to the USA. Instead of putting them up to trial for being witches, they’d have been accused of being spies.”

She was beginning to get frustrated with Tucker’s lack of cooperation. Groaning, she snapped. “What do you suggest we do, then?!”

“How about get back to civilisation and forget all about this silly quest, huh?!” He snapped back, dramatically flailing his arms in the air in exasperation. Seriously, were all Fentons supposed to be stubborn to the point of idiocy? Didn’t they understand some things weren’t worth falling-outs and even their lives? He loved that family to death, but if he was going to die for them, he at least would like it to be because of something useful.

Jazz just kept staring back at him, frowning in annoyance, before turning away from him in a huff. Tucker was about to call her out on her behaviour when she beat him to it. “I know I’m being difficult. I know I’m looking for things that aren’t there, but I just need to help Danny!” She whirled back around to look him in the eye, desperation clearly laced in her voice. “Please, Tucker. You have to understand.”

“Uh, no. Not that! Anything but that!” He cried, frantically covering his eyes with his hands. She was pleading, giving him the trademark Fenton, sad, puppy-dog look. The damned thing was so effective he was genuinely surprised it didn’t count as a persuasion technique. Peeking through his fingers, he chanced to look, only to close his eyes shut not long after. Nope, she was still doing that look.

With a dismayed moan, he gave in after a while. “Fiiiiiine!” He groaned, only to subsequently send a glare at Jazz’s direction when he saw her fist-bumping from the corner of his eye. He quickly squared his posture, jabbing his finger against her chest. “But if Danny busts us, you’re explaining things to him!”

He so hated the way she was beaming at him, completely ignoring his threat. “No problem!” She then slapped his hand away, causing him to let out a sound of complaint. The grin had been replaced by an irritated frown. “If you ever touch my chest again, though, I’m going to blast you with the Fenton Ghost Peeler until your skin falls off and only your non-existent muscles remain.”

“Hey!” He began to protest against her comment, only to back-pedal when she sent him a withering glare in warning. “No touching your chest ever again. Got it.” He smiled sheepishly at her. When that seemed to please her, she turned her focus on her book, prompting Tucker to ask. “So, what now?”

“Now we look for evidence that proves the witches of Amity Park visit this place.” She replied, not looking up from her book.

“No, I got that. I mean how are we going to do that?”

“Well, if witches really do need certain ingredients for their spells and potions, then I’d suggest we look for things that could possibly grow around here.” Jazz kept reading the paragraphs detailed in her book, turning pages at the speed of lightning. Stopping at a certain page, she tapped her chin with one finger as she pondered their options before showing the book to Tucker. “Do you think we could find some newts around here? They’re said to have been highly demanded as an ingredient for their eyes.”

Taking a look at the slimy creature pictured in the book, the techno geek recoiled in disgust. He couldn’t hold back a shudder before regaining his composure. “First of all,” he lifted his index finger in the air, “the closest lake in the area is Lake Eerie, a good three hours away from here. So I highly doubt we’ll be finding any newts any time soon.” He fiddled with his PDA before showing it to her, a map appearing on the screen. “And second, even if there were any lakes around here, there’s no way I’m gonna touch an amphibian. I’m a techno geek, not a biology geek. If you want help collecting those little guys, you’re going to have to ask Sam for help.”

That perked the redhead’s interest. “You mean the Manson heiress?” She asked, not missing a beat. Even if the topic of conversation had changed greatly, her focus was still on her book. If newts weren’t an option, something else had to be. She just had to find it. “Is it me, or is there something going on between her and Danny?”

Not one to resist some good gossip, especially when it was related to Danny’s love life, Tucker leaned in closer to Jazz, as if he were about to share a conspiratorial theory with her. “Oh, something is definitely going on. I haven’t seen Danny act so comfortably yet bashful around a girl since Valerie. As for Sam, let’s just say I don’t usually see her with other guys. Period. As a matter of fact…” Eyes snapping open, he trailed off. What Jazz had said about Sam finally catching up to him.

The psychology understudy looked over at him in concern. Unlike her friend, she wasn’t one to gossip, but her little brother’s mental health and social life was something she cared deeply about. Moreso because the two aspects tended to go hand in hand. “Uh, Tucker? Is everything okay?”

“What did you just say?” He practically mumbled in a voice so low Jazz had to strain her ears to hear him.

“Um,” she stammered, “I said, ‘is everything okay?’”

“No, no.” The African American man shook his head and hands, indicating that wasn’t what he meant. “Before that.”

“I literally said ‘uh, Tucker.’” She repeated, looking at him like he’d grown a second head or something. Did a branch fall on his head while they were hiking and she hadn’t noticed?

Oh, for the love of God...This was getting ridiculous! Did he have to spell it out for her? Scrubbing his face with one hand, growing frustrated, he tried one last time. “No, Jazz.” He gritted out as gently as possible. “I’m asking what you called Sam earlier.”

“You mean when I said ‘the Manson heiress?’” She raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, that!” He exclaimed, before returning Jazz’s confused expression with one of his own. “What do you mean by that?”

“You really don’t know?” She asked in disbelief. Considering that, no, he really had no idea what she was even talking about, the technophile could only shake his head and wait for answers. “Oh! Wow...So turns out Danny isn’t the only person in Amity Park who doesn’t know!” She meant to mutter that part to herself, but her disbelief was so great she forgot to lower her voice, causing Tucker to hear her just fine.

He didn’t know why, but the moment the Fenton girl’s aqua eyes landed on him, Tucker couldn’t help but feel he was being regarded with pity. The fact that she nervously rubbed her arm holding the book up and down while avoiding his gaze didn’t help matters any. “Um, you see...You know Sam’s name, right?”

That made him furrow his brow, not quite following. “Obviously,” he scoffed. “Her name’s Sam Manson. But how come her ID makes her an heiress?!”

“Because she’s not just a Manson,” Jazz corrected him gently, “she’s the only child of the Mansons.”

“Are you saying she’s related to that psycho serial killer?” He squeaked, rightfully freaked out. Deep down, however, he knew that couldn’t be right. Sure, Sam had a spooky taste in...everything, really. But she would never hurtーno, wait a minute. She could definitely inflict pain on others through elaborate and well-thought schemes. But she just couldn’t be related to a serial killer!

...or could she?

“What?!” The redhead gasped. “No, of course not! I’m saying she’s related to the Manson family,” when he was about to comment further, she stopped him with a raised hand, “as in, the descendants of Izzy Manson,” she stressed, annoyed; “the creator of the cellophane-wrapping machine used for chopsticks.”

Growing frustrated at Tucker’s blank face, she made an indecipherable sound at the back of her throat before snapping. “Darn it, Tucker! Rich, I’m saying she’s filthy, stinking rich!” She rolled her eyes when the techno geek’s jaw almost touched the floor. “Gosh! I swear, you’re even more hopeless than Danny!”

“Wait a minute, Sam is rich?!” He all but screeched. “How come she never told me?!”

Feeling sorry for him, she could only shrug in response, her previous aggravation gone. Honestly, she’d only met the girl once, and not even a prodigy like her would’ve been able to determine her thought process with just one session. “I don’t know. If I’m being honest, I’m a bit more surprised you never figured it out.”

That gave him pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...” she crossed her arms. How could she put this gently? “I mean, you’ve known her for a while, haven’t you?” Slowly, he nodded. “And you’re way more into the wealthy and powerful than Danny, and, come on, Sam’s an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian Goth.” She sent him a pointed look. “Goth clothing and vegetarian food aren’t cheap, you know.”

Tucker could only grimace, knowing she had a point. “I know who the Mansons are, but I’ve never seen Sam in any of the pictures taken of her family’s sophisticated parties. And, really, would you seriously take a look at her parents and go, ‘Yep, no doubt. These preppy, cheerful folks are definitely related to cynical, brooding Sam Manson.’” He defended himself, and judging by Jazz’s expression, he knew she concurred. Then, he added, almost as an afterthought, “And honestly, I legit thought she basically ate grass and mud, so…”

Sympathising with him, Jazz put a soothing hand on his shoulder, smiling kindly at him. At first he returned the gesture, before furrowing his brow in concentration. Something wasn’t right... “Wait, how do you know any of this? How do you even know Sam?”

“Ah, Danny and I ran into her and her dad last Saturday at that new Vegetarian Mexican restaurant.”

The bespectacled young man couldn’t do much but blink in astonishment. Then, suddenly, he let himself fall to his knees, crouching down before crossing his arms over his chest, pouting. “How can I possibly be that out of the loop?!”

Jazz flashed him a meek smile in response as she lowered herself to his level; literally. The tug in his lips turned into a full blown smirk as a devious thought came to him. “Was there UST between the two?”

The older girl let out a loud cackle at his question. “Oh, you have no idea!”

With a ‘hm’, he settled for a content smile that Jazz knew was only half-hearted. “That’s enough for me...for now.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Jazz, trying to joke, but the way she was looking at him made it clear she didn’t buy his attempts to lighten up the mood.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself, huh?” She offered softly. “You speak so fondly of her, and she seemed to know you well enough when we talked about you the other day. I’m sure she’ll come clean to you if you let her know you feel hurt over not knowing who she is.”

Normally he hated when Jazz psychoanalysed the situation, more so if it involved him. But now he couldn’t help but feel grateful for having the eldest Fenton’s advice and support. “Yeah, I...I think I’ll do that.” He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

She smiled back, “You’re welcome.” The quiet atmosphere soon dissipated when she got back up on her feet as she dusted herself off. “Well, we’d better find something that’ll hint us on the witches’ hideout!”

Getting up from the ground as well, Tucker watched as Jazz pulled out the map from her backpack at the same time as she leafed through her book using just her thumb, that girl’s ability to multitask was both impressive and unnerving. She was clearly searching for a clue to get them started on their quest. Rolling his eyes fondly at her, he started fidgeting with his PDA, looking for clues of his own through the best way he knew; technology.

Printed books and maps were fine and all, but it didn’t take long for them to become outdated. With the Internet and his trusty PDA, Tucker always had the latest information in the palm of his hand. Literally. As his eyes scanned over dozens of articles from the day before to several decades prior, his eyes landed on one story in particular.

Gasping, he called out to Jazz. The girl looked up from her own research to see Tucker motioning for her to come closer with his hand. Curious, she did just that. The moment she was within touching distance, he handed the PDA to her. “Look!”

She squinted her eyes on the screen. What appeared was an old newspaper article, around thirty years old. When she read it over, however, her eyes widened. “Is this what I think it is?” She whispered in disbelief, as she turned to Tucker, who was smirking.

“You’d better believe it!” Snatching the device from her hands, he began scrolling down and zooming in on certain fragments of the article. “It’s a news segment dedicated to two rangers’ retelling!” He exclaimed, his eyes not once looking away from the screen. “According to them, a few days before the interview with the newspaper, they were patrolling around the woods when they came upon what appeared to be a garden entirely made up of mandrake! Which took them aback because, first, that was a restricted area to the public; and second, mandrake usually grows in Mediterranean weather!

“Since it was getting late, they decided to investigate the following day first thing in the morning. But when they tried getting to the garden, they found they couldn’t. Somehow, whenever they thought they were getting closer, they kept getting lost and further away, something that was odd because they’d both been working as rangers, walking through the woods, for more than twenty years!” He finished, looking far more excited at the prospect of their research than he’d been before. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Her hands clasped in front of her beaming face, Jazz could only nod eagerly. “Mandrake is one of the plants that are most popularly associated with witches and magic, and the rangers kept getting lost because they’d found a patch of mandrake and the witches wanted to keep them away in order to protect their secret!”

“And you said Internet searches were only going to lead us to Satanist sites.” He flashed her a shit-eating grin, feeling proud of himself.

“Ugh, knock it off!” She playfully shoved him away, before growing serious again. Her joy being replaced by uncertainty. “Just a question, though?”

“What?”

“How are we going to find this mandrake patch? It’s been over thirty years! And if the witches were able to make two seasoned rangers wander aimlessly through the forest, what chances do we have of finding it ourselves?”

Tucker opened his mouth, only to close it again, realising he didn’t have an answer to her question. Yep, that could definitely be a problem. “Well, the rangers didn’t know they were facing off against a group of spellcasting women; we do.” He tried steering the conversation in the right direction. “What do we know about witches?” She was about to speak when he cut her off, “ Aside from the obvious.”

Bringing a fist to her chin, Jazz began to revise everything she’d learned on them ever since Danny shared his latest plan with them. “Hm, Danny said witches used to be able to summon ghosts from the Ghost Zone and make them cross over to Earth. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Hm, it might.” Tucker replied, the gears already turning in his head. “You know how every ghost has its own ecto-signature?”

“Yeah?”

“What if the witches have something like that?” He suggested, his mind already focused on the possibilities.

Jazz gasped, her eyes widening at the possibility. “Then maybe we could create our own version of the ghost radar, except that instead of ghosts, it’d latched onto a witch’s own signature!” She added, practically bouncing up and down.

“That way, we could lead the radar to someplace with a particularly strong magical signature, and therefore guide us to the mandrake patch without getting lost!” Tucker continued, equally excited.

“Which would then allow us to track any witch that comes to the garden.” Jazz said.

“And eventually lead us to their hideout!” Tucker finished. The two of them high-fived the other, reeling from the revelation. They were so hyped they almost forgot to address the most important part of the plan.

“So,” Tucker started, slipping his PDA back in his pocket. “What about Danny? Do we tell him about this?”

Against her better judgement, Jazz shook her head. “No. I believe it’d be best if we don’t.”

“Are you sure?” Tucker raised an eyebrow. “Arguably, this affects him much more than it does us.”

“I know, but we need to give him an edge over the witches. An ace up his sleeve! Something to use as leverage if the queen ultimately turns against him.” She explained. “Telling him of our plan before we even have a clue would only make things more difficult for him.” Noticing Tucker’s unsure expression, she rushed to reassure him. “I promise, the moment we know where they gather, we’ll tell him. Okay?”

Tucker didn’t look convinced. Excluding Danny in something this important just felt wrong! But, on second thought, Jazz was his older sister; she’d been taking care of and protecting him long before she learned about the accident. Jazz was always looking out for her baby brother’s best interests. Sighing, he gave in. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Tucker.” She grinned in appreciation before she looked down at her phone and noticed the time. “Now, come on! We still have to get back before Danny finishes his classes and notices we’re nowhere to be found. We don’t want him to get suspicious, do we?”

As he followed her back through the way they’d come from, Tucker could only hope their decision wouldn't bite them in the ass.

..........

“Remind me again why we’re here?”

“Because we needed to meet up and the You Mocha Me Crazy was closed today.” Tucker smirked smugly at her from the seat across from her; a mixture of grease and sauce dripping from his fingertips. “My, what a tragedy!” He lamented in mock sadness.

Her body leaned forward and her elbow propped up on the wobbly table, Sam sent him a nasty look. “Knock it off! You like the café and you know it.”

The techno geek shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll admit, they make good sandwiches. But nothing can beat my love for the Nasty Burger. It was about time I dragged you here for a change.”

Danny was sure the Goth girl was about to deliver a very colourful string of words their friend’s way hadn’t he intervened. “Remember, Sam,” he warned, putting a hand on her shoulder, making her look at him instead, “this is a kid-friendly space.” He took her huffing and crossing her arms over her chest as she slumped on her seat as a victory. “Look on the bright side,” he pointed at the trail of food in front of her, “at least they serve vegetarian menus.”

“It was a pleasant surprise.” She admitted, looking down at the tofu-soy melt she’d been served. “I honestly thought their only options would be a bunch of so-called salads with more meat than lettuce.” Picking the sandwich up, her face wrinkled in disgust when she brought it to her face. Averting her eyes, she promptly set it back down, before sliding the trail away from her. “That being said, that thing’s soggier than a quarterback’s socks after a football game.”

“Then it should be just like you like it!” The techno geek quipped, causing Sam to fling some of his own fries at him in retaliation. Tucker could’ve tried shielding his face from the assault, but that would've meant dropping his burger, leaving him no choice but to become an easy target. “You’re gonna pay for those fries.” He deadpanned, his scowl only deepened when the Goth girl blew him a raspberry in response.

“I believe it’d be more accurate to say football players’ socks are stiff after a game, giving the poor hygiene of the guys at our high school,” Danny pointed out matter-of-factly, trying to keep the peace between the two, before noticing the possible innuendo thanks to the help of Tucker and Sam’s meaningful looks. “But I get what you mean.” He finished lamely.

Changing her position so she was looking directly at him, her face leaning on the hand resting on the table, Sam raised an amused eyebrow in his direction. “No offence, Danny, but teenage boys aren’t exactly known for their impeccable hygiene.” With a noncommittal shrug she leaned back against her seat. “There isn’t much of a difference between you guys and pigs; you’re both more voracious than a pack of hyenas and your body odor is arguably stronger than a pig-pen’s stench.” She pinched her nose with her fingers for emphasis, the smirk never leaving her face.

Both guys seated with her shot her matching glares. “I resent that.” They said in unison, making her laugh.

“FYI, Sam,” Tucker said between bites of his Mega Meaty Nasty Burger, “Danny and I had to learn the wonders of personal hygiene much sooner than any other guy at our school.” Setting the remainder of his burger down on its trail, his arm resting close to it, he leaned closer to Sam, as if he were about to share a secret. “For all the cruel things the girls said about us behind our backsー”

“Or to our faces.” Danny reminded him with a pained mumble.

“Or to our faces.” Tucker agreed. “Despite everything, they never, not even once, complained about the way we smelled.” He leaned back against his seat with a triumphant grin, the burger already in his hands. “That’s way more than the jocks ever got.”

“Now that you mention it, Tuck,” the blue-eyed boy started, “I think the closest we ever got to a compliment from the A-list girls was when Paulina, grossed out by Dash trying to flirt with her all sweaty after P.E., screeched, ‘Get away from me! Not even those losers of Foley and Fenton smell nearly as bad as you!’” He mimicked in a very whiny, high-pitched voice.

While Danny’s imitation got him and Tucker in stitches, it got Sam thinking. Did he say Paulina? She didn’t want to just assume the Paulina she knew was the only one in town, but she couldn’t help but think of her. “Uh, guys?” She waited until they gave her their full attention. “Um, sorry if this is weird, but I just realised I never got around to asking you; which high school did you go to?”

“Casper High.” They replied at the same time. “Why?”

Okay...so they were talking about the Paulina she knew. The Latina wasn’t kidding when she said she used to be the queen bee at Casper High when she and Star studied there, if Danny and Tucker’s retelling, as the lowest end of the food chain, was anything to go by. “Um...no reason, really. I was just curious, that’s all.” Not feeling up to compromising her, for once, plausible answer, she quickly tried changing the subject. “If what you’re telling me is true, though, how come you were such prodigies in the art of not smelling like garbage that’s spent way too much time under the sun?”

“Ghosts.” Tucker replied simply. Panicking, Danny discreetly kicked him in the shins, the only reason his best friend didn’t yelp in pain was the warning glare the raven-haired boy was sending him. He was about to ask him what he wanted when Sam supplied the answer.

“Ghosts?” She echoed, tilting her head to the side.

Flinching at the realisation of what he’d just said, he immediately tried to cover his slip-up. “Y-yeah! Ghosts!” He vaguely registered Danny rubbing his temple with two fingers from the corner of his eye. “You...you remember Danny’s a Fenton, right?”

“Yeah?” She raised a quizzical eyebrow, while Danny’s head shot up at that, wondering what his best friend was up to.

“You see,” Tucker said with the same tone of voice a teacher would use when enlightening his students on his subject, “since Danny’s folks are ghost hunters, ever since the spooks started haunting Amity Park, Mr. and Mrs. F. have been a little...say, trigger-happy. So every time they thought a ghost was near, we’d accidentally end up covered in whatever goop they were developing. Hence, why we were always taking showers.”

Catching onto what he’s best friend was up to, Danny was quick to add. “In fact, my sister used to have long, flowing hair, but ended up cutting it to a pixie cut after one too many accidents.”

“That’s...weird as fuck.” Sam said, and for a moment the two men feared she’d seen through them. Until she bobbed one shoulder up and down as she readied herself for round two against her tofu-soy melt. “But I guess it makes sense.”

“It does?” Danny asked, before Tucker’s foot painfully stomping on top of his brought him back to his senses. “I-I mean! Of course it makes sense...well, it shouldn’t, but that’s my family for you!” He made a helpless gesture as he shot her a sheepish grin her way.

Their antics made her frown in suspicion, “Are you guys okay? You’re acting weird, and that’s saying something.”

“We’re perfectly fine!” Tucker rushed in to say, at the same time as Danny tried with, “Just tired!” They shared furtive glances at each other when the dissonance registered in their brains. Then they tried again, only for Tucker to squeak, “Just tired!” at the same time as Danny assured, “We’re perfectly fine!”

A little creeped out by what was taking place right in front of her, the girl munched on her sandwich painfully slowly. “Uh huh…” She drawled, not buying it. She swallowed her food before addressing them again, her hazel-eyes strained on the two nervous-looking boys. “So, which one is it? Are you perfectly fine, or are you tired?”

Gulping loudly, Danny chose to speak for the two of them, seeing as their usual ‘bronnection’ was failing them. “Come on, Sam. We obviously mean we’re a little tired, with all our assignments and whatnot, but overall, we’re perfectly fine!” The halfa tried alleviating the tension with a motion of his hand. “That’s just your usual college student life. What’re you gonna do? Right, Tuck?” He elbowed his bespectacled friend, urging for support.

The African American young man started, “Oh! Um...sure” He stammered at first. “Totally. Nothing going on but your typical college life problems.” He let out an awkward laugh.

Sam just kept staring at them just as intently as before, her intertwined hands resting on the table. With her eyes narrowed on them like a gangster deciding whether to kill or torture a snitch that’d ratted them out to the cops. The pair of best friends could barely contain the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. Finally she shook her head and, for a moment, they were sure she’d made her choice; they were dead. “We definitely can’t come back here. The food’s so bad it’s rotting your brains!” She shook her head in mock concern. “And it’s not like you had many to begin with…”

“Wait a minute!” Tucker protested while Danny let out a relieved sigh, “You leave the Nasty Burger out of this!”

“I just say it as I see it.” Sam countered in a sing-song voice. It was so easy to get a rise out of him, she just couldn’t resist.

As his two friends started bickering, Danny limited himself to watching them, amused and content to have them in his life. A part of him still couldn’t believe how easily Sam had filled the space he didn’t even know was empty. His whole life he thought Tucker’s companionship was all he neededーexcept for his early high school days when he dreamed of being part of the A-listers, but he’d since wisened up. With ghost-hunting overcomplicating his life, he’d long given up on expanding his social circle outside of his sister and best friend, and serious girlfriends were an all-time no-no, but in just a few meetings, the Goth changed that.

Her individualism and strong moral compass were the perfect addition to his dry sense of humour and awkwardness, and Tucker’s optimism and desire to do something big. It was like they balanced each other out. Sam’s own sense of justice aligned itself nicely with Danny’s own need to do the right thing and protect others, while she shared the need to stand outーalbeit in different waysーwith Tucker, as opposed to his efforts of blending in. Even their differences were a great addition to their friendship, for they forced them to open their eyes to new possibilities they might have overlooked.

Danny wished Clockwork would just stop time right at that very moment. There, in the middle of the crowded and not always sanitary Nasty Burger, surrounded by teens complaining about the struggles of high school and underpaid workers, everything was perfect. Being there with Tucker and Sam, watching them bicker and mediating when things threatened to get out of hand, felt like things were as they should have always been.

They weren’t even there to talk about witches! Somewhere along the way hanging out with Sam just became normal; the right thing to do. And to think not that long ago he didn’t even know she existed…

Watching her bring a hand to the shaved half her face, as if she were about to push away some hair blocking her view only to stop in mid-air and sheepishly put her hand back down on the table when she remembered there was nothing to push awayーmaybe she still wasn’t used to missing half of her raven locksーwarmed his heart. For a moment, she redirected her focus on him, probably sensing his eyes on her, and she flushed prettily, causing heat to creep up on Danny’s own cheeks as a result.

They immediately averted their eyes and focused on something else; Sam looked back at Tuckerーwho was trying very hard to keep his impish grin off his faceーand Danny found himself looking at the ceiling. He’d never noticed there were pieces of gum up there...

For someone who’d sworn off romance after sophomore year of high school, he was doing a very poor job at steering clear of it. Just like the route his treacherous mind had taken the other day as he locked eyes with Lady Arcana…

The halfa could feel his heart squeezing in his chest just by looking into those heliotrope orbs of hers. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, he knew not even his glowing gaze could compare to them in uniqueness. Regrettably, the usual frostiness he found in them hindered their beauty. But now that she was staring at him with great esteem and, dare he hope, a hint of admiration, it was as if spring had finally arrived and had defrosted her gaze; revealing the field of lilacs hidden underneath.

The content smile tugging at her lips illuminated her entire visage, accentuating that tantalising beauty he chose to overlook due to the rocky nature of their relationship. In all his years coming back and forth between the Ghost Zone and Amity Park, he was sure he’d never met anyone who represented the beauty of both worlds quite like she did; and he was a halfa!

Her amethyst eyes and her paranormal nature made her stand out even in a dimension populated by powerful entities, each possessor of a unique gift. The way the eery light coming from the ectoplasmic swirls around them reflected on her slick, black hair gave her an appropriately otherworldly glowーso beautiful it eclipsed anything he’d ever seen before. It was almost like she belonged in the Ghost Zone.

But her personality wasn’t like any he’d ever encountered before, let alone in a spirit. He hadn’t realised it until now, or rather, he hadn't allowed himself to see it, but there was no denying the glimpses of something incredibly humane within her. As unusual a sight it might be, her love for her carnivorous plant wasn’t any different from that of a little girl playing with her puppy. The care she felt for it was evident in the curve of her smile whenever she glanced down at her little, potted friend. Her love and loyalty for her people were admirable as well. He’d been lying if he said he hadn’t been taken aback by her insistence of staying behind in order to protect her two subjects. As vain as it sounded, he’d only seen that kind of dedication and sacrifice in himselfーright when he took off to take on Pariah Dark. She’d even saved him, a ghost! Her alleged worst enemy! And all because she saw him in need and couldn’t sit idly by and do nothing.

He could see it now. Lady Arcana represented the best of both worlds. It was like she belonged with him…

Eyes widening in shock, he quickly tried to shake off the strange feelings taking residence in his core. Maybe he’d been too quick to judge Lady Arcana, but she was still a witch! It’d be incredibly foolish of him to ignore centuries of beef between their people just for a pretty face. Besides, even if ghosts and witches weren’t enemies, he still could never date her. It’d be too dangerous.

He had to snap out of those delusions, pronto. “Lady Arcana.” He called out to her. A few seconds passed and she said nothing, causing him to worry. Now that he looked closely at her, she seemed a little flushed; what if something was wrong with her?

“Lady Arcana, are you okay?” Phantom asked, even though, unbeknownst to him, he looked a little out of sorts himself. “Your face is a little red. Should we have someone check it out?”

“No!” She exclaimed a little too quickly and a little too loudly, which only made him worry more for her sake. She was frantically shaking her hands before her and her cheeks only took on a deeper shade of red.

Looking at him like she’d been caught doing something bad, the witch cleared her throat, although it looked a little forced. “I mean, no; I’m fine, really. Probably just a little affected from all the excitement.” Averting her gaze, she jerked her thumb behind her. “I, uh, I should probably go back to my people. They’re probably recruiting an army to come and save me as we speak.” She laughed it off weakly.

The halfa’s eyes shot open at that. Duh! What was he thinking!? Of course not seeing their queen return from the Ghost Zone would cause an uproar among her clan! “Oh, right! Yeah, it’ll probably be for the best. Wouldn’t want to start a war over a misunderstanding…” He rubbed the back of his neck as he, too, looked away. “I...I’ll let you be.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for saving me.” Lady Arcana said softly, and Danny could feel his heart swelling at her words. Unbidden, his expression fell a little when she put a little distance between the two. She was about to cast the spell that would send her home when his voice acted before his brain had time to catch up to it. “Wait!”

Turning around, she raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

“Are there going to be any more meetings after this?” He asked. “I mean, after this whole fiasco, I wouldn’t blame you if you decided to call it quits…”

In spite of himself, he couldn’t keep the seed of hope from being planted when she gave him a small smile. “We still need to solve the portal problem, don’t we?” Then, she smirked. “You won’t get rid of me that easily, Phantom!”

Danny was pretty sure he’d just smiled appreciatively at her, which was why he didn’t understand when she hastily turned around once more, ready to leave. “Well, until next time!”

“Wait, Lady Arcana!” He called out to her once more, hating how desperate he sounded.

“Yes?”

“I...u-uh,...well…” He stuttered before taking a deep breath. “Thank you for saving me, too.”

The way her expression softened was enough to bring forth emotions he long believed dead and buried. “You’re welcome, Phantom.” Finally, she focused on her anima, willing a purple light to engulf her as she chanted, “Omnes viae Romam ducunt.”

And with that, she was gone.

The snow-white haired ghost kept staring off into the distance even after she was long gone, his mind still trying to process the day’s events. But there was something that, hard as he might, he just couldn’t make sense of. She’d been able to grab him while he was intangible, but how? At first he thought it was a specific spell or something, but that theory was soon proven mistaken when not even Lady Arcana seemed to know how she’d been able to touch him.

Only one thing was for sure; he needed answers. And he had a pretty good idea where he’d be able to get them.

Danny’s musings were abruptly interrupted by the sight of his best friend pointing a fry accusingly at Sam, “When were you going to tell me you’re rich?”

A heavy silence suddenly filled their booth. It was like someone had forced a horrible screech out of a vinyl disc by scratching on its surface. Looking over at Sam, the halfa was sure she was about to drop her food, too stunned to even move. The way her eyes had popped open would’ve been comical, hadn’t it been for the tense atmosphere.

Shaking her head lightly, the Goth girl finally regained her senses, her shocked face morphing itself into a scowl. “Say it a little louder, Tucker.” She grumbled. “I don’t think they’ve heard you all the way to Siberia.”

Now it was Tucker’s turn to scowl. “Uh, no. You don’t get to be mad at me for saying it aloud.” He slumped back on his seat, turning his head away from her. “Not when you never even told me yourself; I had to find out through Jazz.”

“Jazz?” Danny repeated, confused. “When did you talk about this with Jazz?”

“Uh...we were texting each other and it came up.” He shrugged his concerns off. “But that’s not important right now. What matters,” he said hotly as he shot the brunette a pointed look, “is that we’ve been friends for over a year and you never told me! How come Danny and Jazz get to know you’re part of the Mansons but I don’t?!”

The youngest Fenton was about to try and explain things to the techno geek when Sam beat him to it, “Tucker, it’s not like I planned this! I was just having dinner with my dad when Danny and his sister appeared at the restaurant.” She explained, exasperated. “And honestly? The only reason Danny knows is because Jazz already did. It’s not like I saw them come in and waved at them like, ‘Hey, guys! I’m here with my Hella wealthy father! You wanna come with to our yacht in the Mediterranean?’” She droned in an overly cheery, sugary-sweet voice, her lashes fluttering excessively.

“You have a yacht in the Mediterranean?” Both boys asked, incredulous.

Her scowl deepened. “That’s irrelevant.”

“Yeah, well..,” His shoulders slouched, Tucker could only sulk, hurt. “Could’ve still told me. I thought we were friends, Sam.”

His words were like a knife piercing through her heart. They were friends, weren’t they? Despite their differences and some of his most obnoxious flaws, Tucker was still the first person to ever approach her without ulterior motives in mind. Even after they’d made it clear they could never work as a couple, he stayed with her. Annoying he may be, he was still the first friend she’d ever made on her own, and she loved him for it. He was right; he didn’t deserve to be hurt due to her secretive nature.

With a sigh, she scrubbed her face with one hand, feeling remorseful. “Tuck, I’m...I’m really sorry.” She confessed, earning the techno geek’s full attention. “You’re right, even if the secret was mine to tell, I should’ve let you know sooner.” She sighed once more, unable to meet his eyes. Sam hated allowing herself to be vulnerable in front of others; growing up, she’d learned to depend on no one but herself, therefore, showing her helpless, weaker, side to others was incredibly hard to do. “Listen, you’re the first friend I’ve made in a very long time. I was afraid of losing you.”

Although his posture was still guarded, Tucker couldn’t deny her words piqued his interest. “What do you mean, Sam? How is me knowing who you are going to lead to you losing me?”

“I sort of agree with Tucker.” Danny commented. “If anything, it’d bring you two closer.”

“Right?”

Chuckling mirthlessly, the Goth shook her head. Both boys flinched when they saw the pain reflected in her hazel eyes. “Look, being me isn’t easy, okay? I’m not saying life in general ain’t shitty, because that’d be lying, but my life is especially complicated.

“I grew up trying to live up to insanely high expectations, a childhood no kid should ever be forced to go through. I was constantly reminded of the near impossibility that was me making real friends, and I guess, once I reached puberty, it just made me cynical.” Sam admitted quietly, not looking up from her trail of food. “By the time I could try making friends of my own, I was already convinced the moment they learned of my family’s wealth, they’d start seeing me as their personal credit card, instead of my own person who deserves to be loved and accepted just for being who I am.”

Although she desperately tried to hide it, Danny and Tucker immediately exchanged concerned glances the instant she sniffled. Their hearts broke in two for the girl sitting with them. Sure, they’d been Casper High’s laughing stock from the beginning to end of their high school experience, but they always had each other. Sam...Sam spent the majority of her life alone. It was impossible not to feel for her.

“In...in the end,” God, how she hated the way her voice shook! “I decided hiding that part of me was easier. I wanted friends who liked me for me, and having a Black MasterCard was surely going to make things difficult.”

“You have a Black MasterCard?” Tucker accidentally let out. When Danny’s neon green glare started burning a hole in his skull, he backtracked. “I’m sorry, Sam. I mean...I guess I mean I’m sorry.”

“You are? But I’m the one who’s kept you in the dark this long!”

“Yeah, and it hurts.” He admitted. “But it’s obvious you had your reasons and after hearing them, man, I can’t blame you. I would also hide all that cash if I were you. Even though the temptation of flaunting my own private jet in front of all the asholes who used to shove me into lockers would be too great.”

Despite herself, his joke made her laugh. “Thanks Tuck. Friends?” She rubbed her eyes to wipe the imaginary tears away. She was relieved to know she didn’t cry; crying was something Sam Manson just didn’t do. It would’ve been mortifying.

He leaned over to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re still friends. But you’re paying for our next meal.” That earned him a playful punch on the arm from the Goth, but the smile on her face betrayed her true emotions.

Shaking her head good-naturedly, she scoffed. “Deal.”

After that, the three kept talking amongst themselves. About everything and nothing. Nearing the end of their meal, Danny and Tucker were too engrossed reminiscing about their high school days per her request. Admittedly, just hearing the traumatising experiences they’d been through made her feel suddenly grateful for never attending the dreaded place herself. Still, after the tenth story retelling how some jackass had forced Danny to eat his jockstrap after losing a betーew!ー her mind wandered elsewhere.

Her last encounter with Phantom sent her reeling. The way they both complemented each other when they worked as a team was astounding. It reminded her of Grandma Ida’s tales of how things used to be before the ghosts forced them into hiding, when the two species were practically symbiotic of each other.

For the first time since she received his letter, she found herself trusting him. Most importantly, a part of herself came to wish she could indeed trust him. Perhaps all the centuries apart and resentment had clouded their people’s minds. Maybe they were really better off together than separated. She had to admit her knowledge on ghosts was very limited aside from what she’d been taught her entire life, and if there was something Sam was, that was inquisitive. She never took anything by face value, so why did she do just that with ghosts?

She needed to learn more about them. She needed to act like an individual, rather than a bee awaiting orders from the queen, and do a little research of her own.

She needed answers and, crazy as it might be, she knew where to find them.

“Hey, Danny?” Her voice stopped short Tucker’s retelling of his hellish experience dating the second most popular girl in school. When Danny’s baby blue eyes met hers, she almost lost her nerve. Almost. “Um, would you mind taking me to FentonWorks?”

#Danny Phantom #dp #dp fic #my fic #your heart #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #Paulina Sanchez #star dp #Amethyst Ocean #ghost king! danny #ghost king au #witch queen au #witch queen! sam #enemies to friends to lovers

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whitewoodbosca · 3 years

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it's the most wonderful time of the year [1]

With Elis, Christmas was nothing more than an opportunity to make money - it didn't change even when she went to Hogwarts. After two days of having the castle to herself (and a few students who also stayed back), she was visited by none other than Ash White, who decided that she should come to her house on Christmas.

pairing: ash white (hphm mc)/penny haywood/chiara lobosca, minor elis pames (hpma mc)/cassandra vole/ivy warrington in later chapter

note: yes i'm writing christmas fic in march. also hello people apparently i haven't died yet. this is set in the first year of hpma

The cold was merciless.

“I thought you wizards can teleport or something.” The annoyance in Elis’ voice was muffled by the scarf Ash lent her. She was used to walking more than just a few miles back in the days, but she would never be able to withstand this frozen weather, not when she was still dressed in two thin layers of uniform. In front of her, Ash White did something that vaguely resembled a half-hearted shrug.

“I can Apparate, but that means leaving you behind. The Floo Network at this time of the year is… unstable.” The witch grimaced, before pointing at a house at the end of the road. “That’s our destination, so move your legs quicker.”

Eventually, they reached the porch, dusting snow out of their clothes. As Ash knocked on the door, Elis took her time admiring the neighborhood. It was not too far from the center of London, but the quietness seemed out of place, especially during Christmas.

"Oh, you are back." A woman in her late twenties opened the door for them. Her blonde hair was tied into a neat ponytail, though a few strands managed to escape, brushing against the side of her face and nape. She was beautiful, unbelievably so, especially with the way those blue eyes sparkling full of warmth, compared to Ash who looked more of a grizzly bear wearing a clown mask.

"With our guest." White smiled cheerfully, purposely pushing Elis forwards with one hand behind her back. "Jun isn't home, is she?"

"She said she was going to visit some friends." The woman shrugged, head cocked to one side as she observed her carefully, as if Elis was a stray kitten showing up in front of her house, which was, technically, not wrong. "Now come in, I don't want any of you to catch a cold."

No way Ash lives in this place. That was the first thing popping up in her head the moment she stepped inside - deep yellow walls with flowers patterns, bright wooden furniture, not to mention extremely tidy. The holy smell of fresh baking goods (from the kitchen, she presumed) only made Pames feel like she was home, despite knowing that her actual home was thousands of miles from here.

"Chiara is napping upstairs." The woman led them into the living room, where they could have a nice view of the garden through the large windows. "Apparently there was a tough case yesterday. So whatever you try to do, keep it down, alright?"

"You know I would never disturb our lovely Healer's beauty sleep, right Penny?" Ash replied with a cheeky grin, pulling the woman into a quick kiss, before nodding towards what Elis would guess the kitchen. "Not after she baked those delicious chocolate chip cookies."

"You should thank her later. I told her to rest early, but she insisted on making some since you were coming." Penny gave White a slight nudge to her ribcage as they settled down on the sofa. Actually, it was two of them sitting on the sofa and Elis taking the armchair, not wanting to get in the middle of whatever sappy romance in front of her eyes. She tried to distract herself by focusing on the surroundings. There was a flat-screen TV opposite them, one of the most modern types, and the girl wondered whether it was a way to make the house less suspicious among Muggles. Most of the families she worked for all had a TV, and if she was lucky enough, their children would let her catch a glimpse of those kid-friendly programs or movies with the worst visual effects she had ever seen. A bookshelf was mounted next to it, but the titles were all too small to read. I doubt they would put magical books up there.

"Let me go get some tea and cookies." Her head swirled back to Penny and Ash. "Can you drink green tea, honey?"

Elis could feel her face heat up at the word. It was so obvious that she was not immune to beautiful women referring to her like that.

"Green tea or matcha? People nowadays always mix the two of them up." She pointed out, mentally praying it was the former. The bitterness of it would clear her head up for sure.

"Vietnamese green tea, kid." Ash replied, a smug smirk spreading on her lips. "By the delightful look on your face, I feel like I should have answered matcha."

"No bullying in the house, White." Penny flicked one finger against her temple, before turning to Pames and giving her a reassuring smile. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back soon."

As the blonde woman made her way down the hall, Elis turned to Ash, puzzled and confused.

"You have a wife? I thought she was married to Mrs. Lobosca."

"I don't." She shrugged, leaning back on the sofa as she stretched her arms over her head. "Chiara and Penny got married while I was still busy traveling all over Europe." White explained, her fingers drumming on the arm of the sofa. "I am more of the person who sometimes drops in with food and drinks."

"Sure." Elis thinned her lips, her eyes squinting at the older woman. There were more to the stories, she could feel it, but the last thing she needed was to have another person mad at her for prying at their secrets.

"You said that, but curiosity is showing all over your face." Again, Pames wished Ash could be less observant. White made her feel like the emotionless act she had spent years to perfect was a child's game. "I've made enemies, so putting my name next to them is like giving those bad guys a big, red arrow on where to hurt me most."

"Sounds like it is more about your self-destructing nature." That brought a smile to her face, rather satisfied with Elis' deduction.

"Oh, do elaborate, Miss."

Two can play this game. She took a deep breath, racking her brain for clues. Ten years ago, Ash was in Europe messing things up, and at the same time, Voldemort had his army terrorizing people, which eventually led to the Battle of Hogwarts. An entry in the History book she borrowed from Daniel said that there was a massacre of Voldemort’s subordinates before it, caused by an unknown, powerful being. “It is said that the Ministry of Wizards is still seeking that person nowadays.”

“You made enemies with the Dark Wizards.” Elis clenched her teeth, feeling her hand tremble at the idea. “They are still on your ass for the massacre in early 1998.” She muttered those words in disbelief, gaping at Ash. The 36-wand incident, that was what people called it, because the day after the Battle of Hogwarts ended, someone dumped a bag of 36 wands in front of the Ministry of Magic, all belonging to The Dark Lord’s underlings. Pames used to think people often exaggerate White’s ability, but to do such things… Her body involuntarily shuddered.

“The girl is smart,” Penny emerged into the room, a teapot and some cookies in her hands. The smell of green tea calmed Pames down, though her heart was still beating like a drum, “and she is a first year?”

“Kids nowadays grow faster than us.” Ash took the tray from the woman and put it on the coffee table. She handed Elis a half full mug, ignoring the way her fingers were shaking as they wrapped around it. “Back in first year, I was busy swooning over you and Chiara.”

So apparently her Prefect had three mothers, one was the greatest Healer in England, one was the Wizard World’s golden girl, and one was an Unspeakable who could obliterate an army on her own.

What was she even doing here in their house?

“But I can’t spoil too much.” Ash took a sip of her tea, and Elis mirrored her action, savoring the light bitterness as hot water ran down her stomach. “Gotta wait for Jun to come back, so I can tell the story of that one time she almost blew up the house while trying to find her textbook.”

The idea of Jun Haywood-Lobosca, the grumpiest person in the history of Hogwarts, the Prefect who could talk about rules and manners for days, scrambling on the floor and probably crying certainly made Pames’ eyebrows raise in fascination.

“Well, color me interested, then. Finally have something to add to the tales of Demonic Ravenclaw Prefect.” She laughed, watching the snow falling outside the window. Maybe this Christmas wouldn't be too bad.

#hphm #hpma #this is rather random fr #i was on the bed last night about to sleep then 10 mins later i was writing until 1am #ash white #penny haywood #elis pames #my fic

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gwoongi · 4 years

Text

best years

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: best friend au, bff-to-lovers au, fluff, angst, guk is pining rating: general words: 2.6k warnings: its a short little fic, sort of like one chunk of a big chocolate bar and im gonna slowly feed u one chunk at a time until you’re sick and full a/n: a squint into the mind of bff jeongguk who will star in an eventual “idol best friend” series that i routinely dream about but have always felt it disrespectful to write about but at the end of the day everything i write is fiction and jeongguk would probably be less offended by a “canon divergence bff au” than he would reading my drug addicted rockstar au so :-) read it & weep folks

Jeongguk’s always been scared of the rejection he might receive from you. He might be a dream for fans across the world, but there’s a split second where Jeongguk feels like he might not be good enough for you. He’s the world to other people. But you deserve the whole galaxy, and he’s afraid that’s something that he might not ever be, even with the money, and the fame, and the doubts he tries to hide.

Jeongguk was taking a pretty big risk, he knew that. It was risky taking any step out of his house at any moment, even on the days where it was pouring outside; he’d think he was safe until he made it to the end of the road, earphones snug in his ears, and the flash of a camera behind the shrubs in the corner of his eye blinds him back to his front door in a twisted shame.

Granted, he’d expected it to be worse as he booked a plane ticket and made a rather hasty, in-the-moment journey to the airport and on a plane with no layover. Usually when Jeongguk takes a journey overseas, there’s at least one or two fans hiding in the corner of the suites waiting for him, or someone on the plane who’d recognise his face. For this, he’d suck it up and take a photo. It was better to have good PR, and be a little bit pissed off that he’d been discovered, than to have bad PR and to be known as the member of BTS who didn’t give a damn when the ‘real’ reasons for travel were taken away.

But Jeongguk thought the risk was worth it this time. The plane touched down in Manchester, and from there, it was an hour long train journey to a station he didn’t know anything about to meet a friend of yours he’d only seen in Instagram pictures. You were at University now, a face he saw on a screen rather than a face he quite literally woke up next to months before. It had been four months since Jeongguk had seen his true best friend, and fuck anybody who was going to make him wait a second longer before seeing you again.

You were his greatest risk, but it was worth it. You were worth it.

“Fuck, it’s insane to actually be meeting you right now.” Frank is a good guy, ginger with circle glasses rested on the end of his roundish nose. He led Jeongguk out of the train station, offering to pull his suitcase for him. “I mean, I’m a huge fan.” Followed by a sigh and a quiet, “Who isn’t…?”

Jeongguk smiled at him, squinting in the sun as it hit his eyes in the direction of Frank’s face. “Thanks. I hear a lot about you, too.”

Frank grinned, whipping his head towards Jeongguk. “All sexy and scandalous things, I hope. You know, none of us believed Y/N when she said she knew you. We thought the pictures were Photoshopped, you know how she is.” They both paused by the side of the road going one way only, “Shit, she’s gonna freak out when she sees you.”

That was three minutes ago, but Jeongguk’s still playing that sentence on a loop. He walks alongside Frank down one of the streets, past a redundant furniture store that quirks his brows. A man stands in the doorway, a cigarette out of his mouth and ash dropping to his toes bare in sandals. It smells like doughnuts, and weed, and he smiles brightly. He’s missed the UK, and how unbelievably shockingly awful it is when you’re not looking at picturesque photos of London online.

“I thought you’d know that Y/N’s my best friend,” Jeongguk says thoughtfully. He pauses as Frank does as a car zooms past when they’re about to cross. “I mean, people know. The photos got leaked, all of them.”

“Hey, give me a break,” Frank says dramatically. “I only became a fan three months ago. And yeah, I figured. Finally, I understood why all the white girls studying Korean here wanted photographs with her and to be her best friend…”

Jeongguk frowns. “Is it bad? She doesn’t tell me this stuff on the phone. I mean, they go crazy on Twitter when she posts pictures and we interact, but I didn’t…”

Frank shakes his head and grins at Jeongguk until the words die out. “Nah, don’t panic. It’s not that bad. If anything, she might get a kick out of the fame. Trust, there’s always gonna be the girls who hate her because she’s friends with you and that’s like, what, threatening to their fantasy? But she loves you a lot, and a friendship like yours...it’s kinda like family, you know?”

Jeongguk feels his stomach flip, kind of like butterflies. These butterflies are sour, his heart racing that extra bit quicker. He likes the sound of family. He doesn’t like the way Frank implies it, because if Jeongguk is ever going to consider you as family, it won’t be as his sister. You’ve never been his sister, even when you were part of his family growing up. There were times you came to all of his Korean family events, the times his family called you their own, but you were never his sister. It was different to that, you both knew it but never acknowledged it.

Frank makes small talk until they make it to the student accomodation you currently live at, and because Frank knows basically everybody, a student comes to the gate to let them both in. They’re nice, big and pretty-skinned, wearing an Aston Villa shirt that Jeongguk remembers looks a lot like your Dad’s back in the day. Might be the same, might be a vintage.

He smiles at him, because maybe this guy knows Jeongguk, but the guy just turns back into the common room and doesn’t come out again. Frank doesn’t live here, he lives in a flat of his own around the corner, but Frank might as well be a resident here. He lets himself in towards the lift and shoots a text to one of your flatmates.

“Apparently she’s in the shower,” Frank says casually. He locks his phone, taps his foot as the lift rises, “Let’s hope she doesn’t stride out completely stark naked as you’re in there.”

He almost blushes, “Ha, yeah.” He declines to mention the times you two have showered together, the time you went skinny dipping together when you were fifteen. Those were things that might end up getting misunderstood, and those are his memories he’d like to keep hidden and secret. He says nothing, nothing but a thank you when he enters your flat with Frank and takes a different turn to the left as Frank goes right, towards the kitchen.

Your room is at the very end, your name on the door in stickers from a set you got from the 99p store, and from inside, he hears the music in the bathroom. The door opens silently and closes with the same volume, and Jeongguk manages to wheel his suitcase to the end of the bed and plonks himself down. As expected from pixels on the screen, your room looks better in person- white walls and a bed set that’s white with a peony pattern. Above your desk, Jeongguk recognises all your photos together, new polaroids of you and the friends you’ve made at University who Jeongguk always felt kind of threatened by. He smiles to himself, and rests his neck at a strange angle against the wall your bed is literally attached to. From here, he can see the bathroom door in the mirror on the opposite wall, but he knows you’ll only see his feet when you come out.

Speaking of which; the Fleetwood Mac song ends suddenly and the shower water has stopped running. Jeongguk hears the toilet flush and his heart starts to race. Four months of falling asleep on Facetime and texting when there was no time left in the day, and now, here he is, on your bed, waiting for you to step out and...and, then what?

Maybe you didn’t even want him here. Maybe you were happier now that Jeongguk was in Korea and you were still at home, in a new city with new friends and a new life. Maybe the memory of Jeongguk was burdensome. Worse, maybe he was something you felt you had to remember but didn’t really want to.

The bathroom door opens and in two seconds, the light is shut off and he hears you sigh.

“Frank, you gotta stop letting yourself in here without telling me,” your voice says. “Good thing I’m semi-decent. Usually I’m not.”

“No fun,” Jeongguk teases, and silence follows. There’s a pause in the room, and Jeongguk cocks his head with his left cheek on his shoulder, waiting for you to click and appear in front of him. Suddenly, there’s small but quick thuds across the carpet and Jeongguk feels his chest tighten with a nostalgic feeling as you come into view with wide eyes, damp hair and nothing but a bra and those stupid black worn leggings you refuse to throw out.

The grin that reaches Jeongguk’s eyes now aches as he laughs at you, at the way you gape in his presence. It takes a moment, a moment of what feels like could be the rejection that Jeongguk absolutely fears, but then you smile so wide that Jeongguk feels it in his stomach.

“Holy shit!” you exclaim loudly, bringing a hand to your mouth as you hurry towards the bed. It dips beneath your knees and Jeongguk rises up to a sitting position. “What the fuck!”

He laughs out loud, and when you’re next to nothing away, Jeongguk wastes zero time in bringing you into his arms, tightly hugging you.

“Careful, my hair’s all wet,” you squeak.

“Don’t care.”

He really doesn’t. There’s probably going to be a damp spot on his clothes after, but that’s okay. You groan loudly with happiness as you hug him in return as tightly as he is hugging you, your weight on his lap and your arms around his neck. Jeongguk smiles so wide, sighing with content into your neck. Here, he smells the marshmallow wash on your skin, the fragrance of your hair that kind of reminds Jeongguk of cabbage patch babies.

“You smell good,” he mutters. You laugh quietly, squirming when his nose sniffs across your neck like one would kiss. “I don’t.”

“You do, you always smell good,” you reply. One sniff, he laughs, “See!”

“Mmm,” he plays along, “the sweet smell of planes and trains and jetlag.”

That makes you laugh, and at the mention of jetlag, Jeongguk realises he could probably fall asleep like this given the chance. He has missed this, missed you, so fucking much. The emotions are overwhelming.

Jeongguk kisses behind your earlobe, and just underneath your jaw. That’s new. Jeongguk was a cheek-kiss kind of best friend, but never this. You’re not complaining. Your head drops to one side, almost giving him more access to the space free, and he occupies it. Those fucking butterflies; Jeongguk feels sick with nerves as he kisses you, under your chin and across your neck, on that spot on your collarbone you found out tickled after Seven Minutes in Heaven in Year 8. Maybe your fingernails in his hair are a way of you telling him to stop- it’s something he can think about tonight if he can’t fall asleep, something he doesn’t care to think about when he kisses on your actual jawline, to your cheek and the corner of your mouth, your cupid's bow.

He moves away with a blush that matches your own, but maybe you can’t see his in the colour of your fairy lights. He plays with the confusion as he moves the hair that's across your face around your ears, smiling and raising his eyebrows. Jeongguk convinces the role of casual to perfection and bites back a sour taste when he notices you’re the same. Casual, unmoved, maybe even like it didn’t mean a thing.

“Your hair is so fucking wet,” he sniggers boyishly.

“I told you,” you shrug. You shrink, relaxed, “Fuck, Guk, why are you here? I mean, I’m literally so happy, but...Are you gonna get in trouble for this?”

“I dunno,” he admits. “Maybe, probably. I mean...the guys know I’m here. Hoseok drove me to the airport with Jimin.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Jeongguk sighs loudly. “Yeah, I know. Frank told me all about the girls.”

“Little fucker. Is he here? I’ll punch him for mentioning it to you. It’s honestly fine. Girls will be girls.”

“You’re my best friend for life, it’s important to me that you’re not uncomfortable by it-”

“I’m not,” you assure him, hands trapped in his hair. “Damn, this got long. Didn’t look long over the phone.”

“Was growing it out,” Jeongguk replies. “Heard you fancied Keanu Reeves, couldn’t handle the competition.”

“Ha!” you retort. “Simp.”

“For you,” frowns Jeongguk dramatically.

Conversation fizzles comfortably, to the point where you both forget that Jeongguk’s underneath you and your legs are wrapped like a koala around his middle. The fact that this is normality for you both is ignored. You’ve done worse things together. Jeongguk even knows that the bra you’re wearing now is one he bought for you. That could be why Jeongguk feels the way that he does, why this confusion wraps around his body and traps him. Jeongguk knows that the butterflies in his stomach don’t just appear because you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in a while. He knows what they mean when they flutter when your name pops up when you’re calling him, when an interviewer tries to catch him out by bringing you up in another interview that you don’t need to be mentioned in.

Jeongguk knows that coming here was worth the confusion, and the nerves, and the fact that this will be a headline when it gets out. JEON JUNGKOOK GOES TO UK TO VISIT HIS BEST FRIEND...BUT ARE THEY MORE? Or worse, NETIZENS HAVE PROOF THAT BTS JUNGKOOK IS DATING HIS BEST FRIEND Y/N…

He doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s how he feels scared. For you to be scandalised by an article online that caught him out in his feelings, he knew it wasn’t fair. Jeongguk might be too afraid to say he’s in love, and too afraid to find out if you feel it too, but he’d risk those feelings and the headlines if it meant spending one more day with you.

Jeongguk’s got a week and a half with you. Something’s gotta give within this week. He doesn’t want to go back to Korea with more regrets than he came with, and for now, he’ll just have to swallow those butterflies back down when they pour out of his mouth. Right now, he can’t afford to be caught out. It has to be known on his own terms, when the timing is perfect. It has to be perfect, because it’s what you deserve. It has to be perfect, because if it isn’t, then Jeongguk doesn’t think it will be worth it.

Losing you to a headline and a butterfly is out of the question. One tries to escape when you hop off him and shrug on a jumper from out of your wardrobe. If you noticed his unease you didn’t mention it. He wants to cry, wants the confusion to go away for the night so he can enjoy it.

Fuck.

For now, he thinks as he follows you with an arm around your shoulders out of your bedroom and towards the kitchen to meet the others, he’ll just have to fake it til he makes it. Just like always. Put on a face, put on a show, until it all feels worth the spillage. He can’t let the butterflies escape yet.

It has to be perfect, and he’ll have to be patient.

#jeongguk scenario #jungkook imagine #bts imagine #bts #bts scenario #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk imagine #jeon jungkook #jjk #jeon jeongguk #bts x reader #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #best friend au #idk what this is its shit

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smallheathgangsters · 5 years

Text

Wait For Me | T.S.

A/N: So proud of this one! Please enjoy and leave some feedback! ❤️ Btw, I hope this is want you wanted, Anon. :)

Request: “Hey! Could you write some angst with fluffy end (with 30,23,21 or 34) where Tommy and the reader were in a relationship before the war and she had to leave small heath and could only return years after they got back. They still love each other but she's keeping her distance in the beginning? And his family are the first who see her and welcome her and he just sort if walks in and falls in love again? Sorry if this is too detailed. I LOVE your writings :)” by Anon

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @tranquility-or-chaos

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 2841

Type: angst, fluff

Summary: Y/N breaks the only promise she made to Tommy before he went off to war. Will there be any hope left for them after he returns to Small Heath?

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“Are you being fucking serious?” you gasped speechlessly. Thomas was giving you a sad and guilty look. His hands were fidgeting with the ring on his right middle finger you had bought him about a year ago. It wasn’t meant to be a promise ring, simply a sweet gesture to show him how much he meant to you, but you knew from the moment he put it on, he started wearing it as one.

“Are you actually being serious, Tommy?” you repeated, looking at him bewilderedly with your eyes teared wide open.

“John and Arthur volunteered as well …” he mumbled, while his hands kept on working on the ring.

His response made you grab him by the hem of his jacket. “That makes no bloody difference, don’t you understand?”

His icy blue eyes were starting to get teary when he locked his gaze with your hurt one. You tried your best to not get soft by his reaction, tried to talk about his absolute stupid idea reasonably and even a tiny bit sternly, but you failed miserably, tears building up behind your eyes as well. “Are you trying to push me away? Are you trying to make it as hard for us as possible?”

You let out a desperate sob, making Tommy finally let go of the ring and cup your face into his hands lovingly. “I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there to help my brothers and friends in this unbelievably hard time. I would feel like a coward, letting them die while I’d be hiding here.”

“But you wouldn’t be hiding! There are enough men volunteering, it wouldn’t make a difference if you went or stayed here!” you sobbed, the tears that had been gathering now running down your rosy cheeks.

“It would to me, Y/N …” he said quietly, caressing your cheek with his thumb, catching a few of your salty tears.

“Please don’t leave me, Tommy …” you cried. You leaned your forehead against his chest, your whole body erupting into even more violent sobs and hiccups, making you gasp for air. Tommy gently caressed your back. “I’m not leaving you. I could never leave you, love. My thoughts will always be with you.”

But his words did nothing to calm you down. “Please, love. You need to breathe.”

He wrapped his arms around you even tighter, swaying you softly. Then he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll write you every day, if I can, I promise. I’m sure, everything will be over sooner as you think.”

Finally, your crying quieted down. Tommy didn’t stop stroking your back. His big, warm hand gave you the comfort you needed in this moment, even though you knew it would be the last time for a long while. You sniffled and lifted your head from his shirt, which was now stained in your tears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, Y/N. I promise,” he ensured, kissing your forehead and giving you a weak smile, trying to lighted up the mood a little bit, even though there really wasn’t anything to be happy about right now. “Can you promise me something too?”

You nodded. “Anything.”

“Promise you’ll wait for me?”

His question made you break out into sobs again. “How could I not? How dare you even think I wouldn’t wait for you. Of course, I promise, Tommy.”

***

You broke your promise. The only thing Tommy had ever made you promise. The one promise that meant so much to him, you broke.

You tried telling yourself that it hadn’t been your fault that you had to leave Small Heath. Your parents ran a small business in London, but when all the men were collected or volunteered for the war, they lost their bookkeeper and desperately needed help. They had called you and naturally, you packed everything right away, leaving Birmingham.

But in the end, it didn’t matter who’s fault it was. You weren’t there when you heard about the brave men coming back from the war. You weren’t there when Tommy came back.

Polly even sent you a letter, telling you that they had all made it back alive. And you were so incredibly happy for them and Polly. Still, you never answered her letter, you never even called.

You felt like you didn’t belong to their family anymore. You had let them down, but in particular, you had let Tommy down. It made your heart shatter into a million pieces knowing that you hadn’t been there when the train arrived, waiting for him on the platform. That you hadn’t been there to hold him in your arms, welcoming him back home, peppering him with thousands of sweet little kisses and telling him how much you’d missed him.

And it was true. You really had missed him so much. There wasn’t a day that went by, that you didn’t think of him. His icy blue eyes were the only thing on your mind every single evening you went to sleep. It was the only reason you were even able to find some rest.

While you were overjoyed by Polly’s news, it also made you sick to the stomach. Hearing about Tommy coming back made you feel twice as guilty about the fact that around two years into the war, you stopped answering his letters on a regular basis. You felt as if you were betraying him, knowing very well that you had left Small Heath only a year after him joining the tunnellers. Eventually, you stopped writing him completely. You couldn’t bear telling him that you had left, but you also couldn’t keep on writing him with this secret weighing you down.

Losing Tommy was your own fault. In the beginning, you tried blaming him, out of frustration. You had blamed his decision to volunteer, him risking his life every day, accepting the fact that he may never return alive. But it never made you feel better about the situation you were in. Because deep down you knew, there was nothing to blame him for. The outcome of your relationship, the shatters of what you were left with had all been your doing, not Tommy’s.

It had been a year since Polly’s letter. But still not a day you hadn’t thought of Tommy. Your family had finally found somebody to take over the bookkeeping and suddenly, it was time for you to return to Small Heath. No matter how much time you spent in London, you never really felt at home there and you knew the only place you’d ever be happy was Birmingham. The only problem was, moving back to Birmingham also meant moving back to Tommy. And that was something you dreaded.

In fear of crossing his path unintentionally, you rented a tiny apartment as far away as possible from where Tommy had lived before the war. It wasn’t much but it had everything you needed for now.

Only a few days after returning home, you reunited with one of your best friends, meeting up at a small café. While it felt good seeing a familiar face, you knew it wouldn’t take long for her to ask about Tommy.

“Have you seen him yet? I’m sure he missed you so much,” your friend said, blowing away the steam from the cup of tea and then taking a careful sip, trying not to burn her tongue.

“Uh, no. Not yet,” you mumbled, stirring your spoon in your tea, avoiding her nosy gaze.

“What? Why not? Did you break up?” she asked confused.

Her question made you think. Tommy and you had never officially broken up. It was you who decided for yourself to break off the contact. And because he never reached out to you, asking why you hadn’t been writing him letters anymore or why you hadn’t been there when he came back from France, you assumed he had accepted the fact that your relationship had sort of dissolved itself.

“Not exactly …” you said insecurely, “but it’s been too long since we’ve had contact. It would be ridiculous of me to expect him to still care about me.”

“Oh, shut up,” your friend exclaimed. “You’re being stupid. Tommy Shelby was head over heels for you, there is nothing in the world that could make him lose interest or stop caring about you.”

You scoffed. “Was. Tommy Shelby was head over heels.”

Your comment made your friend groan. “You’re being annoying and self-pitying.”

“Excuse me?” you huffed. Nevertheless, you knew very well that your words had sounded whiny and as though you were sorry for yourself.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said, lifting up her teacup to her lips and raising her eyebrows at you.

Just as you opened your mouth to let out a sarcastic reply, you heard a voice behind you shout your name.

“Y/N! Oh my gosh, is it really you?”

The voice was all too familiar to you and made you squeeze your eyes together, hoping it would go away. But of course, it didn’t. Only a second later Polly was standing next to yours and your friend’s table. You opened your eyes again and moved them slowly to the elegantly dressed woman, a cigarette between her index and middle finger.

“As pretty as ever!” she exclaimed, leaning down and pulling you into a friendly hug, pressing you tightly against her chest. “How long have you been back?”

“O– only a couple of days. Just started settling back in,” you mumbled, feeling absolutely awkward and uncomfortable.

She widened her eyes. “Why didn’t you come by? Tommy’s changed a lot since the war but I’m sure he still misses you and would be very happy to see you.”

Hearing her mention Tommy so casually made you gulp. Was he really not upset about you leaving and ignoring him? Or was Polly just not realising how complicated yours and Tommy’s relationship was, if you could still call it that? On the other hand, Polly was a clever woman. She would be the first to notice something being off.

“Are you sure …? I mean, a lot has happened since then.”

“Oh, of course! We all missed you very much, Y/N, even Finn!”

Sweet little Finn. How was it possible that even he remembered you?

Suddenly, you felt Polly grab you by your wrist, pulling you out of your chair. Then she gave your friend an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, miss, but I need to steal Y/N away from you.”

You knew exactly that your friend didn’t mind at all, considering the topic of your previous conversation and simply nodded at Polly, smiling cheekily.

Outside, Polly pushed you into a taxi, herself following right behind. She told the driver the same address you remembered the Shelby Home having before you had left. Tommy and his brothers had built up this betting shop and you thought back to when Polly had to take over the reins when the boys left. Suddenly, so many memories popped up in your head, making you feel slightly overwhelmed. Polly seemed to notice you tensing up.

“Everything alright, love?”

You gulped and nodded. “Just feeling a little nervous.”

“Nervous?” she asked surprised, “Why would you be nervous around us? We’re family.”

“Tommy and I, we … you know, we–“

Polly cut you off by grabbing both your shoulders and looking into your eyes intensely. “Y/N, darling. Stop worrying about Tommy, everything’s going to be fine.”

You sighed. “Okay.”

The driver stopped the car and Polly payed him, getting out of the vehicle quickly onto Watery Lane. “Come on, then.”

You slid off of the back seat as well and followed her to the front door of the house. Your heart started racing and your palms got sweaty, making you wipe them on your dress. Unfortunately, it didn’t do much and they stayed uncomfortably clammy. Polly sensed you not feeling very well and grabbed your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Then she pushed open the front door to the betting shop, a wave of loud masculine voices coming your way.

“Look who I found!” you heard Polly shout over the voices, drawing all the attention towards the two of you.

“What the fuck!”

John was the first to react. A huge smile was plastered onto his face. You saw him rushing over to you and pulling into the biggest, tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. “What the bloody hell are you doing here? I thought you’d never come back!”

You nuzzled your face into his chest. All of a sudden, all your nervousness and insecurity was gone, replaced by the feeling of finally being at home. It made you realise how much you had missed all of them and how stupid you had been to avoid them. They really were family.

Immediately after John pulled away, Arthur wrapped his slender arms around you. You couldn’t say whose welcome was more heartfelt.

“You look amazing, Y/N,” Arthur complimented when he finally got to examine your face more closely.

“Thank you,” you said, blushing. “I really missed you all.”

“We did too, very much.”

After you hugged Finn as well, commenting on how much he had grown in the years you were gone, your eyes scanned the room in hope to find Tommy standing somewhere in the back, waiting for his turn to pull you into an embrace. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You felt a soft hand being placed on your shoulder. “I’m sorry he’s not here. I’m sure he’ll be over soon.”

You nodded and gave Polly a weak smile. “Don’t worry. Maybe it’s better this way.”

“Quit being so negative,” Polly told you off. The tone in which she said it wasn’t angry though. It sounded almost hopeful.

Suddenly, the front door behind you flew open, making you flinch. You whipped your head around, staring at the person standing in the doorway.

“Tommy …?” you whispered, as if you had to be careful to not scare him away.

He was just as handsome as the last time you had seen his beautiful face and his breathtakingly gorgeous eyes. He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit, making him look as if he were in charge of everything and everyone in Small Heath. There was nothing that didn’t make you fall in love with him all over again right then and there.

You felt all the other family members slowly backing up towards their offices, giving you the space, you needed.

At first, Tommy didn’t say a word. He just stared at you with an expression you weren’t able to make out. Was he happy to see you? Or did he want you to leave?

The silence made you feel uneasy. Your heart was beating uncontrollably fast in your chest and you felt heat wander up to your cheeks, making them flush.

This encounter was embarrassing. It was not at all romantic or even pleasant. It made you want to push past Tommy and run down the street, as far away as possible. You guessed he probably felt the same. You couldn’t imagine him feeling positive emotions when it came to you, especially not when you suddenly stood in his shop unannounced after not hearing from you for years.

“Look … I’m sorry, I– I shouldn’t be here,” you stammered nervously, your eyes jumping around in the entrance, avoiding his intense stare at all costs.

You wrapped your coat around your body and stepped towards Tommy, planning on squeezing past his muscular physique when you suddenly felt his arms around your body. His actions took you by surprise, making your freeze in his embrace. Your breath hitched at the back of your throat and you were unable to return the gesture. You worried that your reaction would make him regret hugging you, but he didn’t let you go. It seemed as though when he felt you unable to move, he pressed you even harder against himself.

“Don’t leave … please,” you heard him whisper pleadingly. You held your breath in shock when you thought you heard his voice being shaky.

“You promised …” he breathed, a silent sob escaping his lips. He placed a hand on your cheek, and you felt something cold. The ring.

That was when you broke. Your legs gave up on you, making Tommy catch you when your body collapsed. His strong arms supported your body, holding you up against his chest while his scent surrounded you.

Your cries filled the air and time seemed to have stopped, only for you and Tommy. It was a moment that nobody was able to take away from you. It was when you realised that life meant nothing if Tommy wasn’t there. And that nothing you had done had ever changed that. It was also the moment you realised that Tommy had never forgotten or stopped caring about you. He still loved you as much as you loved him, and not even war was able to change that.

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

So Henry, you want to start a YouTube channel? - Chapter 1

Summary: Twenty five year old YouTuber Sandy Choi has no idea that one of her five million subscribers is the one and only Henry Cavill. When he asks her to help him out with starting his own YouTube channel, she falls more and more in love with her. But she should’ve known that dating one of the most desirable bachelors, does come with a prize.

Henry Cavill x Sandy Choi (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: If you want to be on the taglist, please let me know xx

Masterlist // Channel introduction // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It is finally done. I somehow finished the final edits of my newest novel. I mean, I love the book with all my heart and I do think that it’s one of the best books I’ve ever written so far, but if I have to read it one more time, I’m going to scream. In about a week, the advanced reader copies will go to the first beta readers. It’s a nerve wrecking part, but it does mean that the moment my book is going to be on the shelves, is one step closer.

To celebrate this glorious event, I decide to go my favorite cafe and edit my next YouTube video. Other people meditate, do yoga or get some exercise in to relax. For me editing is my form of relaxation.

Never in a million years would I have imagined that I would have five million subscribers. Five million people around the globe enjoy watching my vlogs, while I highly doubt I’m that interesting. Sure, I nowadays do photoshoots, some editorials and I still dance quite a lot, but besides that, I’m homebody, who writes a lot and to get out of the house, visits cafes.

I grab my backpack and start packing my laptop, the charger and my AirPods. I’m tempted to bring my Nintendo Switch with me, so I can play some Animal Crossing (I’ve been kind of neglectful of my island, sorry Tom Nook), but I leave my Switch in its charger.

Before I leave my apartment, I take a quick selfie, to upload for my Instagram Stories. It’s just a simple mirror selfie, showing off my outfit. Since it’s pretty hot outside (it’s July tenth and London has been trapped in a very intense heatwave), I opted for some high waisted denim shorts, a simple white crop top and some matching white sneakers. I do bring a white blazer with me, since the cafe usually has its air-conditioning on and I don’t want to freeze to death.

To be honest, before I got famous on YouTube, I never was impressed with my looks, my style or my life really. I had to celebrate my twenty first birthday alone, to realize I was pretty much wasting my life. Because of the weather, my plans to travel back to my family were cancelled and when I was staring at the cupcake with one candle on it, I realized I barely had memories from my time in college and I was already in year two.

I started to document certain moments in my life, but with all the footage I had of one whole week, I could make a two minute video out of it. But everything I filmed, had to be extravagant and then I asked myself: why does it have to be extravagant to be important enough to film? I should live my own life like I’m the main character, not a side character. I should romanticize life more. All of the sudden, I began noticing how beautiful the sky would look when I went outside for a walk, how the flowers start to bloom when it’s spring and how cozy certain cafes are.

When I uploaded my first YouTube video, I barely had subscribers, but all of the sudden more than thousand people thought my life was interesting enough to watch and a whole year later, I had 200k subscribers. I always figured that it would stay around that number, but once I graduated, published a book and moved to London, my subscriber count went up with a rapid speed. My 500k subscriber hit was unbelievable, my one million subscriber hit was beyond me, but hitting five million subscribers… It’s weird and thank God I have now reached a certain plateau, because seeing my subscriber count going up with the speed that it went back in the day, scared the living shit out of me.

Once I’m at my favorite cafe, I order a cappuccino and some vanilla cake, before I sit down and get ready for some editing. I used to spend way too much time on editing my videos, but now I finally have found a way to be more efficient.

Time ticks by. I see multiple people leave, I order some ice tea and another soda to keep hydrated and finally I take my AirPods out and put them in their case. I’ve been here for a few hours now and I maybe should leave. I don’t want to overstay my welcome here.

Before I can get up, my phone rings and I pick up when I see it’s Lacey. We met on the plane to London. She went to UCLA, but moved back to England after she was done with school. She told me about what she was going to do in London—becoming a librarian and honestly, that’s a dream—and somehow we hit it off. She was my first and only friend here in London. Of course, through her I met multiple people that I like, but I’m always a bit awkward around them, just like I’m shy around practically anyone I have never met.

‘Hi La—’

‘I have a new fling and he is having a party tonight,’ she simply interrupts me.

‘So much for a hello,’ I chuckle. ‘What fling was this again?’

‘This is the guy I met at the zoo.’ For someone who is a librarian, she meets an awful lot of guys. When I think of a librarian, I think of an older lady with a pencil skirt and grey hair in an updo, but not Lacey, who rocks short skirts like no other. She usually has a new guy every week, but the guy from the zoo… I don’t know if I remember correctly, but I think he is around for more than a week.

‘Hasn’t he been around for like two weeks?’ I ask her.

‘Yes, he is.’

‘And you aren’t tired of him yet?’ I start to pack my bag, while I clutch the phone between my ear and shoulder. ‘What was his name again?’

‘His name is Jackson and he is such a handsome guy, so you want to join us for the party? You can say no, Sandy, because this guy has parties every other week.’

‘I just finished my deadline for the new book,’ I say. ‘I think I just want to chill at home, to be honest.’

‘Totally understand. You are one a hard working woman and I know that parties can be pretty stressful for you.’ I can hear her smile through her voice. ‘I’m really proud of you for finishing that book, always remember that.’

‘Thanks, Lacey. Say hi to Jackson from me and tell him I’ll meet him soon. If he is still around then, of course.’

Lacey starts to laugh. ‘Oh, this one will be still around. I really like this guy and every morning, he sends me a good morning text, including a bad joke.’

‘That is oddly adorable.’ I wave to the barista’s as I leave the cafe. Shit, it’s hot. Like I’m stepping into an oven. Thank God I packed my white bucket hat and I put it on, to prevent my dark hair from frying my brain.

‘It is. Oh, he is calling me. Love you, doll.’

‘Love you too. Have fun tonight.’ I hang up the phone, while I move slowly through the streets of London. I’ve never really been a party type. For me it’s always a chore, never a pleasant event.

Being heavily introverted as I am, I enjoy my time reading on the couch, being by myself. Sometimes I wished I had an animal to keep me company, but my landlord is an asshole and prohibits any sort of pet. Maybe one day I can finally move out here, find myself a better place and become happy there with a nice dog.

Maybe tonight I can film my newly updated evening routine. I haven’t done that in ages and a lot has changed since the last time I did it. For a second I’m doubting my earlier decision of not going to the party with Lacey, but I shake off that thought.

Tonight I’m staying home.

As usual.

⟢⟡⟣

Who needs an alarm, when the sun can wake you up, nearly blinding you in the process? I roll around in my bed and am about to drift away again, continuing the beautiful dream of me being wrapped in Henry Cavill’s thick arms on this Sunday morning, when my phone rings.

Groaning I push myself up, grabbing my phone from the nightstand. I sigh deeply when I see it’s Lacey who video calls me. ‘Why on earth do you want to video chat with me?’ I ask her with a sleepy voice, still groggy from just waking up. I rub my eyes, hoping that that will wake me up. After I filmed my summer night routine, I fell fast asleep and when I look at my alarm clock, I slept a whole nine hours.

Well done, Sandy.

‘I have been trying to call you since five a.m.. Why aren’t you picking up your phone?’ Lacey asks impatiently, looking genuinely annoyed.

‘Sometimes I wonder if you even hear yourself. I was asleep at five a.m., as a normal person does.’

Lacey rolls her big doll like eyes. She actually looks like those porcelain dolls, the same ones that my creepy neighbor back home collected and put on display for the entire neighborhood to see. Blonde curls bounce around her face and for someone who partied the entire night, she actually looks really good and is way too awake. ‘I have a story for you and normally I don’t want to talk you into feeling guilty, but for this occasion I’ll make an exception.’

‘That doesn’t explain why you want to video chat with me.’

‘Just wait.’

I sit up straight in bed, placing a pillow against my back, so I can lean against the headboard. I pull my knees up to my chest, to lean my arm on. ‘Tell me, Lacey, what happened?’

‘So, I arrived at the party around eleven and Jackson was waiting for me at the door. He was being a true gentleman, kissed my cheek and when we walked inside, he kept introducing me to people, saying how at the end of the night, I was going to be his girl. To spoil the end for you: I am his girl now and we had steamy sex back at his place.’

As fantastic as that may sound for her, why does she the need to share this with me? I mean, I am happy for her that this Jackson guy is a nice guy and if she is actually going to date him, that’s great, but I don’t want to hear it. It’ll make me feel even more single.

‘Anyways, while Jackson is introducing me, I feel someone is staring at me. So I look around me, only to find one guy watching me. I try to squint you know, to see who that guy is and I think to myself: wow, that guy looks an awful lot like Henry Cavill.’

I start to chuckle. ‘How much did you have to drink at that moment?’

‘None, totally sober. Jackson pulls me with him and eventually introduces me to his friend Henry Cavill.’

Oh my God, I think I forgot how to breath. ‘You are telling me that the guy who you met at the zoo, who is probably more than just a fling to you and threw a party last night, is friends with the Henry Cavill?’

‘The same Henry Cavill you refuse to follow on Instagram, because you can’t handle that much gorgeousness on your feed.’

No need to attack me like that, I think to myself. I just woke up and was hit with the realization that I could’ve met Henry Cavill last night, but I didn’t want to go to a party. Tip for next time: always say yes when this Jackson guy is throwing a party.

‘Moving on with the story, Henry—yes, I’m on a first name basis with him—kept gawking at me and finally he asked me if we knew each other. I shrugged, telling him how I’m just a simple librarian, that usually doesn’t mingle with hot celebrities. Later on, I don’t know how exactly Jackson, Henry and I got to that topic, but I casually said something along the lines of that I’m friends with the Sandy Choi. Henry nearly loses all the color in his face and Jackson starts to laugh his ass off.’

Where is this story going? What the hell is going on?

Lacey starts to laugh out loud and manages to add: ‘Jackson tells me that mister Henry Cavill is a huge fan of yours and literally drops everything whenever you post a new video and how he had an almost heart attack when you mentioned him in your July first vlog. According to Jackson, he has been questioning your comment saying that you haven’t had your fair share of Henry Cavill today ever since.’

This isn’t happening. This honestly can’t be happening right now. Lacey is totally messing with me. ‘Sure.’

‘I can see you are questioning my fantastic story, so let me show you this then.’ She shares her screen with me and shows me a picture of her, this Jackson fella and Henry fucking Cavill, looking insanely handsome as he usually does. His hair is slightly growing out, revealing some lovely curls of his and he is wearing a white blouse. The buttons are hanging on for dear life. I’m mentally kicking myself. Why didn’t I go to this party? I mean, I would’ve probably embarrassed myself, but still: I could’ve admired him from a far. In real life.

Lacey stops sharing her screen with me and smiles widely in the camera. ‘And Jackson mentioned something about pressuring him into following you on Instagram and sliding into your DM’s, but mister Cavill is petrified of doing such thing, so… I decided to give him your number and I think he already texted you.’

I swipe the video chat away, while I start looking through my Whatsapp chats. I see I have some messages from my manager, my editor, my dad and an unknown number.

‘Did he text you?’

I click on the chat, ignore what it says and press on his profile picture. ‘It’s him,’ I say. ‘It’s really him.’ I admire the photo for a second. His thick and strong arms wrapped around his dog. God, I was dreaming about something like that just minutes ago and now all of the sudden, he has my number?

‘What did he write?’

I check the chat and see that the man wrote a paragraph, instead of multiple tiny texts. That is absolutely adorable.

‘I can see you and your grin,’ Lacey says, reminding me that I might’ve swiped away the video chat, she can indeed still see me. ‘Come on, Sandy, read it to me. I deserve to know what he wrote, since I’m the reason he has your number and texted you in the first place.’

She has a valid point and to be fair, I’d probably share it with her anyways. Best to do it now. ‘Hi Sandy, I swear I’m not a creepy stalker. I’m Henry Cavill and I met your friend Lacey at the party last night. She was kind enough to give me your number. I have no idea what she told you about last night, but I just wanted to let you know that your vlogs really help me to get through my days and that you are truly an inspiration to all young people out there.’

‘This is legit the cutest thing that has ever happened!’ Lacey squeals.

Though I agree, I keep staring at the text. This is what he thinks of me? He thinks I’m an inspiration to all young people out there? My videos help him through his day? ‘I’m going to hang up,’ I say to Lacey, ‘and figure out what to text him back.’

‘Wait,’ she says, ‘you’re not going to tell me what you texted back to Henry fucking Cavill?’

I pull up our video conversation again and shake my head. ‘No, I’m not. Thank you for giving him my number, Lacey, but please don’t make a habit out of it. Thank you. Love you. Bye.’

Before I can hear what she has to say, I hang up on her and look at his text again. My heartbeat is finally normalizing again, though my palms are still sweaty. I need to text him back, because that is a polite thing to do.

But what do I text back to a man like him, especially after he told me such a nice and lovely things? I mean, how do I top that? I can tell him the things I told Lacey whenever we would watch something that he starred in. I could say that I thought he was hot in the Witcher or that they should’ve included shirtless scenes of him in Mission Impossible. I could—

Oh my God, he is online!

I nearly die of panic, throwing my phone away from me on the bed. Maybe hanging up on Lacey was the dumbest thing I could’ve done. I need her help. She knows what she could say to him.

Lord knows how long I’m thinking about a response and I know that I should text him back. I finally wrote something and before I can regret it, I press send.

Sandy: Hi, Lacey indeed told me about last night. I honestly can’t believe that you watch my vlogs and that they help you get through your days. Hearing kind words like these from any subscriber honestly means the world to me 😊

And now we wait. He wasn’t online when I pressed send, so I probably won’t get an answer from him any ti—

Ping.

He already answered? Oh no, no, no, I have to let this moment sink in for a second. He can’t already texted me back. Please, let this be my mother, telling me I need to take my cod liver oil, please let this be her.

Henry Cavill: Do I want to know what she told you?

This sounds cheeky, I can handle cheeky. I can answer to this. I’m an adult woman, who is just texting with someone who is a fan. I can handle fan encounters.

Sort of.

Besides, I can think about the right response, so this is only in my advantage.

Sandy: Just that you are a big fan of my vlogs and drop everything when I post a new video.

Henry Cavill: Right, that’s not too bad, I guess.

Sandy: And that according to your friend Jackson, you almost had a heart attack when I mentioned you in my vlog and you have been questioning my fair share of Henry Cavill of today comment.

Henry Cavill: Great…

Sandy: It’s kind of flattering to be totally honest with you.

Henry Cavill: I’m just dying of embarrassment, give me a minute.

I can’t help but to chuckle. It’s weird, that I’m actually talking to Henry Cavill right now. Who would’ve ever thought that that would happen to me? I decide not to share the Instagram and sliding into my DM’s story that Lacey shared with me.

Sandy: I hope that Lacey haven’t told any embarrassing stories about me.

Henry Cavill: Just that you went to Mission Impossible: Fall Out three times in the cinema and that you commented all those three times that there wasn’t enough of me in it.

Okay, now it’s my turn to die of embarrassment. I feel like he is sparing me the need to fall into a deep hole of embarrassment, since he doesn’t mention Lacey adding to it that there wasn’t enough ass and the lack of shirtlessness on his part, because I said that all those three times as well. I know my friend and I know that she told him that.

Sandy: Right… I’m sorry.

Henry Cavill: It was pretty flattering and good for my ego 😉

⟢⟡⟣

Henry—yes I’m on a first name basis with him now as well, but I have yet to change his name in my phone—and his texts have caused tiny disasters around my apartment.

I burned my pancakes, because he kept distracting me with texts, causing the fire alarm to go off. Because I wanted to shut the thing up, I had to stand on a chair, but my brain was still with those texts, so I nearly broke my neck when I fell off it.

While I was filling the kettle with water, I forgot the tap was still running, causing the thing to overflow with water. I stubbed my toe not once, not twice, but three times on the same table leg.

But despite that, talking to Henry has been such a nice thing all morning and the first half of the afternoon. He keeps on complimenting me on my editing, saying what his favorite moments are in my vlogs, while I on my term share about the favorite moments of his interviews, his movies. It’s obvious that we are fans of one another, so having it out in the open, doesn’t feel weird or uncomfortable.

But nothing prepares me for his latest text.

Henry Cavill: I’m going out for a walk with Kal, since it’s cooling down now. You want to join us?

I know I should answer him and I should answer him now, but I keep pacing around my living room. Going out with him on a walk, means talking to him. Like using my vocal cords to communicate with him, talking to him. Am I ready for that? What if I disappoint? I’m probably going to disappoint.

I take a deep breath. You didn’t went to the party last night, so you should go now, Sandy, I tell myself. You can do it. He is inviting you, meaning he wants to hang out with you. That is a good sign.

Sandy: Sure, I just need to get ready. I think I’m ready in about thirty minutes.

Henry Cavill: I’ll share my location, so you know where to go to, okay?

Taglist: @flhorah // @henrythickcavill // @toomanystoriessolittletime

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #so henry you want to start a youtube channel #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x sandy choi

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stargazing-dreamer-girl · 3 years

Text

Royalty

Fandom: The Irregulars

Pairing: Billy x female!OC, Leopold x Bea, unrequited Leopold x female!OC

WC: 17k (You can also find it on ao3 here)

Summary: Mary-Belle has always been like family to Leopold. The only one who stuck by his side and rather stayed inside with him than to go outside. That was, until he decided to leave the palace for an adventure and found new friends there, a new family. But, of course, Mary-Belle was still worrying about her friend, the one she had been in love with for years. She watched as he fell in love with Beatrice and still tried to keep him out of trouble, getting pulled into it herself by doing so. With the end of the world near she tries her best.

A/N: This has taken me so long to write and it's the longest one-shot I've ever written. I put a lot of work into this and I hope you guys like it as it is my little baby xD I also posted this on ao3 and linked it above since reading longer stuff on tumblr can be a pain. So, Enjoy!

Whenever she moved through the castle, Mary-Belle carried herself with grace. Her back straight, her head held high, so as to proclaim her status without uttering a single word. Nobody stopped her on her way to Prince Leopold’s room. Somebody knocked on the door for her when she came to a stop in front of it. It was opened right away for her to enter. She gave the servant a small nod in thanks. They knew not to enter after her, so as soon as she was in the room the door was closed behind her.

“You’re back,” she spoke the obvious. Leopold was standing in front of the mirror that looked just as expensive as anything else in the room. He met her gaze through the reflection. She had moved to the middle of the room, hands on her hips and eyes glued to him. He let out a sigh and gave up on arranging his clothes before turning around, feeling the whole weight of her disapproving stare. “You can’t keep disappearing on me. I don’t care if you run away from your family, but not me. You tell me where you go. I worry too, you know. We don’t keep secrets from each other.” She had stepped closer, her hands on his coat, adjusting it to sit right with harsh movements.

“I know, Mary. I’m sorry.” Her touches got softer adjusting his collar before she took a step back when he looked presentable. “But you don’t have to worry. They probably hate me for leaving again and there’s no way I can go back with the soiree taking place tonight.”

She went to sit on the sofa by the foot of his bed, patting the spot next to her, so that he would sit down as well. “Tell me what happened since the last time we saw each other.” So, he sat next to her and told her about the woman who had stolen people’s teeth and tried to assassinate the duke of Winchester and about the mansion they were trapped in and the tarot cards. “If you were anyone else, I would not believe these stories at all,” she laughed softly. Stories about magic certainly were quite unbelievable. On the other hand, the danger Leopold seemed to be putting himself in was very real and believable. “Is there anything else?” She knew that there was. Having known him since childhood she had learned how to read him like an open book. All his mannerism and quirks, she knew about.

“I kissed Bea.” She ignored the way her way heart seemed to constrict at the statement. The way he smiled and the gleam in his eyes let her know everything she needed. The girl, who she had hoped would just be of short interest to him, had made its way into his heart and taken it over. There was no way now for her to find her place there. So instead, she smiled and placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. “But right after, I left. I heard the bells and was about to be late for the weekly breakfast with my mother. I did miss it actually and now Daimler is onto me. He’s the one who talked to my mother, so that I would be allowed to go to Louise’ birthday soiree. All that so he can keep an eye on me.”

“You are helpless, Leo,” announced Mary-Belle. “You cannot kiss a girl and then just leave. Imagine how she must feel.” His gaze moved to the floor. His thoughts had been about how he would make it back in time and not how Bea would be feeling in this moment. He wanted to hit his head for his ignorance. “But there is nothing you can do about it now. Let’s just enjoy the soiree. You might actually like it.” She stood and walked towards the door, not waiting for Leopold. He would need another moment to gather his thoughts before he would attend, so she made her way down to the room by herself where everyone already appeared to be having a good time. There were couples dancing and people talking. A lively atmosphere filled the room. A servant offered her a glass. She lifted it off the tray, her gloved fingers gently holding on to it. The sweetly bitter taste filled her mouth when she took a sip. It took some getting used to before she actually enjoyed the drink.

Rather quickly she was able to find Louise between all these people and made her way over to the girl to wish her a happy birthday and talk to her. “Have you seen Leopold’s entrance? He is already rather popular,” noticed Louise, gesturing towards the dance floor where Leopold held a blonde girl close while they swayed to the music. Mary-Belle hadn’t even realized he was present. “Although he does appear to be a rather inept dancer. I thought the two of you had practiced.”

“Ever since we were little, yes,” confirmed Mary-Belle, “his thoughts are elsewhere tonight which seems to be translating into his dancing. He is quite competent at other times.” The two girls watched as Leopold once again stepped on his dancing partner’s feet, but fortunately the song came to a close and they moved off the dance floor. He apparently didn’t lose his appeal to the girl either since she led him over to a group of people and introduced him. “He seems to be doing well enough for himself,” she pointed out.

Louise agreed before her attention was taken up by another person. “Oh, I almost forgot, there was someone I wanted to introduce you to.” She grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her along past the group Leopold was sitting with, coming to a stop in front of two men. They were quite handsome but didn’t seem to have much to offer other than that. They appeared to have grown up with the idea that having good looks made a personality unnecessary. She entertained them for a little while for Louise’ sake before she wandered off on her own.

She noticed Leopold leaving the room with the girl he had been dancing with. She considered following them but decided against it and let herself get distracted by her surroundings. Louise got ahold of her again, pulling her to another couple of girls whose behavior was already influenced by the alcohol. They were laughing loudly, holding each other up while they filled Louise and Mary-Belle in about Eleanor Margot, the girl Leopold had been spending his evening with. Like how she only cared for herself. A trait she shared with many people present tonight. It came with the upbringing.

But when Eleanor Margot returned, Leo wasn’t by her side anymore. An uneasy feeling filled Mary, so she excused herself and approached Eleanor. “Where is Leopold?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I left him upstairs somewhere.” She waved her hand dismissively, rolled her eyes and turned away from Mary-Belle who was equally as irritated by the short exchange. Making her way upstairs to look for Leopold she passed some people who had separated themselves from the happenings of the soiree and a passed-out girl. She checked one room that was being occupied by a couple that didn’t even realize someone had entered. She quickly left.

The next room was barely illuminated. She entered cautiously but there were no noises coming from the direction of the bed this time. But, through the thin curtains hung in front of the windows she could make out two figures out on the balcony. Curiosity took over. When she came to a halt in front of the window, she moved the curtain slightly, just enough to look through the opening, but hopefully not enough to be noticed. On the balcony, Leopold and Daimler were in the middle of what looked like a very intense conversation with Leo standing on the other side of the railing.

Before she fully realized what was happening Leo had jumped. A shocked gasp escaped her. She moved away from the window, the curtain slipping from her hand. Her shaking hands came up to cover her mouth. What had he done? She hurried to the door to the balcony. Daimler was already gone and when she looked down, Leopold was nowhere to be seen either. She hoped he was alright, that he hadn’t hurt himself and was on the way to his friends. She would have to go look for him herself to make sure of it, but for now she would return home. Too many thoughts filled her head, worries about Leo’s wellbeing.

She made straight for the doors, taking one of the awaiting carriages and drove home. As she looked out onto the streets of London her thoughts were on Leo who had to be out there somewhere. Once again, he had left her without a word. It had been just by coincidence she had seen it happen. She didn’t want to think that she would never be as important to him as Beatrice and his new friends were even though they had known each other almost all their lives and he had just met them. It hurt too much, so she pushed that thought away. She wouldn’t think that way. She would find Leo and he would have a reasonable explanation for it all. Or at least she hoped he did.

Her plans to look for Leopold had to be moved to the day after because after waking up the next morning her mother announced that Mary-Belle had to accompany her. It was a rather annoying thought to be stuck by her mother’s side all day when she could be out. She’d rather use the day to find Leopold than to attend boring meetings with other ladies who would just end up talking about themselves, their husbands or their children. But she complied. They went to a tea house first. If she weren’t as worried, she might have actually enjoyed it. The place was quaint with only a few tables for guests to sit down, the food looked delicious and the tea smelled even more so. The woman who served them the tea always had a friendly smile on her round face that put Mary-Belle at ease. She was quite certain that that woman would provide better company than her current one. But she couldn’t leave. It would put a bad reputation on her family. How ironic life could be. That she had more sense for keeping up her family name than Leopold did. And he was the Prince of England! If she were more like him, she’d just stand up, walk out and search the streets until she found her friend.

She stayed. She stayed and listened to the conversations that were always the same with a small smile on her face that was as fake as the friendship between her mother and the other women present. When appropriate she chuckled. When it was expected of her, she told an anecdote that didn’t happen the way she said but that didn’t matter. Not to these people. Not to her. She could come up with anything as long as it was a story that fit the picture her family painted of themselves in public and what was demanded of her.

The sun was already setting when they returned home. Going out now would be a lost cause. She wouldn’t find anything, even if she didn’t get lost. It had to wait until tomorrow. Maybe she could study a map. Her father had to have some of them. She would ask at the dinner table. Most of the time she got what she wanted, so she was hopeful. It might make it easier to find Leo. And, like she had expected, her father let her into his study after dinner, rolling out a map on the desk. He asked her what she needed it for, but she waved him off with the explanation that she was just curious about London’s infrastructure which – even in her ears – sounded like a weak excuse, but her father believed her. He left her alone with the words that she can stay there as long as she wanted. She just had to be careful and put everything away when she was done.

When the door closed, she allowed herself to relax a bit more. She wasn’t exactly sure how the map would help her now, but she had hope. Leopold did mention some stuff when he told her about his new friends, so she just had to look for some of those markers. It couldn’t be that hard to do. She could find the cellar somehow, she was certain.

The Duck and Quiver. That’s what she needed to look out for. It had to be around here somewhere. She had followed the roads the map had told her to take and she was sure she was in the right place. She had to be. She took a turn to get off Baker Street. It was already a lot different from the environment she was used to, but it was oddly nice. The way the people interacted here out in the streets felt a lot more genuine than she’d ever experienced with people of the royal court. A man was shouting at another, shoving him before they both broke into laughter. Two women sat off to the side watching some kids kick an old can around in the middle of the street as they talked with each other with genuine smiles on their faces.

She took another turn and, in the distance, saw the sign she was looking for; the Duck and Quiver, it read. A relieved sigh left her. She had been looking all morning and finally found it. She made her way over and even before she got there, she saw Leopold. He was up on his feet, so he wasn’t hurt too badly, she concluded. He actually looked happy standing there with the crowds of people passing him.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him further to the side before he knew what was happening. But, when he saw her there, he smiled at her. “You found me!” he announced happily.

“I did! But I only went searching because I saw you jumping off the frigging balcony! Do you know how dangerous that is!” She shoved his shoulder. “I was so worried! I mean, you jumped off a bloody balcony, for fuck’s sake! I thought you wouldn’t put yourself in danger like that. We had just talked about it and then you go and do that. I can’t believe you!” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Leopold tried the same by putting his hand on her arm but she shook it off. “Are you hurt?” she asked. For the first time she completely took in his appearance. His clothes were clean and the patches of skin she could see seemed unharmed.

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry,” said Leopold.

“Well, I do worry because you’re my friend,” she explained, hitting him in the side this time. He hissed at the contact. His face scrunched up trying to fight the pain. “You have got to be kidding me! Leopold! You are not fine. How bad is it?”

“It’s fine, really.” She wanted to protest and look at the wound but Leopold didn’t let her speak or pull up his shirt to reveal his side. “I was hurt a little. There was no going around it, you know that. But I have been lying in bed since then to heal and it’s gotten a lot better. I can move, no problem.”

“That didn’t look like it was fine though,” she argued motioning towards his side.

“Well, yes, but you hit me! It’s fine if there is no one purposefully hitting me there. See,” He stood straight, opening his arms and jumping a little, “completely fine again.”

“Fine.” She gave in. There was no way she could convince Leo to rest anymore now. She has had to deal with his injuries before. He never stayed in bed for long. She looked around the place again, watching the people walking by, wondering if any of them were his new friends. “So, they forgave you?” She didn’t need to say which ‘they’ she was referring to for him to understand.

“They did.” He nodded. He noticed the distaste in her face, correctly assuming that it wasn’t aimed towards the people around, the place itself or his new friends. She was still mad at him for leaving. “Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean to leave like that. It was just all getting too much. That life,” He gestured towards the general direction of the castle, “it’s not what I want. I can’t keep living like that, if it means living a life of unhappiness. I wasn’t meant for that kind of life. All my life I was being locked away in the palace. It’s not what I want anymore. It wasn’t ever what I wanted, but I didn’t have a choice. I was born into that life, but now I found a way out. I found another life for myself with friends who like me for who I am and don’t just try to get close to me because of my family.”

“So, you think I’m not a real friend, that I don’t care about you and just want to spend time with you because – what, because you are the prince?” Leopold reached for her hand but was once again shaken off as she took a step back, tears collecting in her eyes out of both anger and sadness. “I was always there for you. Always. And not because of your status or your family but because of you, Leo.”

He tried again to reach out and pulled her back towards him before she could run off. “That is not what I mean. You are my friend, Mary. You are one of the few people in that place I actually care about and leaving you behind wasn’t easy. I never thought you were just there because of my status. Hell, you wouldn’t be here now if you didn’t care about me. You mean a lot to me, Mary, and me leaving that life has nothing to do with you.” He wiped the stray tear that had escaped off her cheek, his voice soft. “I told you everything about how I felt in that place, how trapped I felt. I often thought, you might even know me better than I do myself, but you can’t say stuff like that. It’s simply not true.”

“I know,” she admitted in a small voice. “I don’t know why I said that. I’m sorry. And I’m happy you got out, really, and that you made things right with your friends. I’ll be here for you no matter what. You can always count on me.” She looked up at him. They both calmed down and stepped a little farther apart. The close proximity felt too intimate all of a sudden.

“Well, uhm, do you, maybe, want to meet them?” He asked, unsure of what else to say, but she shook her head no.

“No, thanks. I… should probably go home before my parents notice and everyone thinks we ran away together.” She laughed, even if she didn’t quite feel like laughing having to leave Leopold again shortly after finding him, but it was true. She had to get back. “But I will come back tomorrow, if that’s alright.” At least now she knew where to find him.

“Yes, of course!” He nodded excitedly. But then his attention was caught by something behind Mary-Belle. She turned to follow his line of sight. There stood a girl with a round face that was framed by her long dark hair. She was beautiful. By the way Leopold looked at her, that had to Beatrice. Bea, for short. Mary-Belle wouldn’t call her Bea. She didn’t know a lot about her. Leo had told her that all of them were orphans. Beatrice had a sister, but Mary-Belle had forgotten her name. And of course, Beatrice was the one Leo was in love with. She was looking right back at the pair, confusion clear on her face. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” said Mary-Belle and went in the direction of the Baker Street to find her way back from there.

“Mary-Belle!” Leopold called after her before she had gotten far. “And don’t tell anyone where I am!”

“Of course not,” she reassured him. “Just… be safe.” He promised her to be, but given what they had already experienced, he would probably not be able to keep that promise. He would try though. Or at least not tell her if he weren’t. They exchanged a last smile before they each turned towards where their life was taking place.

All the while they had been watched by Billy and Spike who had been sitting in the perfect position to see when Mary-Belle had pulled Leo to the side, catching Spike’s attention. “Hey, who’s that girl with Leo?” he asked his friend pointing towards the two of them who seemed to be arguing. Spike flinched when Leo was hit in the side, imagining the pain that must have caused him.

“I don’t know,” said Billy, taking in the situation with suspicion. “Looks like another rich girl who wouldn’t look our way twice. Just another one thinking they’re so much better than us. Just look at her.” The distaste on her face supported his argument. “Maybe he used to have something going on with her.” He shrugged. The situation interested him. Her presence alone and the way the both of them seemed to be close spoke against everything Leo had told them. When Leo cradled her face, Billy was convinced that what he had said was the truth. The way that girl looked at Leo held a lot of emotions.

“But what about Bea?” asked Spike. “I thought Leo liked her?”

“Maybe Leopold is a wanker, like I’ve been telling you guys. He doesn’t deserve Bea. Especially not like that.” He looked on, like Spike did, until they went their separate ways. “I’ll be right back,” he let Spike know before walking after her.

When Mary-Belle stepped out onto Baker Street the scenery changed immediately. Men were walking by in expensive suits and the road wasn’t as dirty. She let out a yelp when she was pulled back. A blond boy was towering over her intimidatingly, staring her down. With every step he took, she moved back, away from Baker Street and the people who might intervene in this situation. “Who are you and how do you know Leo?” he basically barked at her. Mary-Belle felt more at ease at his statement, not backing away anymore. Her searching eyes stopped to look at his face. This guy knew Leo. Not a lot of people did, so he had to be one of his friends. She hoped he was. Her change in composure didn’t go unnoticed by him which aggravated him even more. His chest heaving heavily, his fists clenched by his sides.

“I’m Mary-Belle, Leopold’s… acquaintance,” she said studying the face in front of her. His blue eyes stared right back at her. His dark-blond locks were cut short. She crossed her arms over her chest. “And you are?”

He ignored her question. “That back there didn’t look it was between acquaintances,” he argued. Mary-Belle’s eyes left his face shortly to look back to the direction she’s had her conversation with Leopold.

“I fear, that’s not any of your business. Why should I tell you anything anyway? You won’t even tell me your name.” She smirked. His face turned red, his muscles flexing. He looked a lot more intimidating like this. Maybe that was a mistake, maybe she shouldn’t have provoked him.

“What are you doing, Billy?” called Leopold’s voice. Mary-Belle let out a sigh of relief when ‘Billy’ backed away from her. She looked to where his voice came from. He was making his way over quickly, followed by Beatrice and two others. A pale girl with long dark hair that was pulled back into a braid, who she assumed must be Beatrice’ sister, and a boy with brown skin who focused on getting between Billy and Mary-Belle and talking the former down.

All eyes were on Leo and Mary-Belle when he came up to her, asking if she was alright and if Billy had hurt her. “Yes, I’m fine. I was just surprised. Not hurt or anything.”

“Who is that, Leo?”, asked Beatrice, her arms folded in front of her chest and an eyebrow raised. The other three were standing behind her as if to back her up, metaphorically and literally. Billy had seemed to calm down, but his eyes never left Mary-Belle even when Beatrice addressed Leo.

“I’m Mary-Belle.” She answered in his stead. “And I can speak for myself, thank you.” She smiled sweetly at them. “I’m a childhood friend of Leo’s.” This answer had to satisfy her because she couldn’t think of much else that wouldn’t reveal Leo’s identity this quickly but she was already thinking about a believable story. She’d stick to the truth as far as she could. It would make it easier.

“And what are you doing here, Mary-Belle?”

“Well, Beatrice,” if it affected Beatrice in any way that Mary-Belle knew her name, she didn’t show it, “I knew that Leo had run away from his home situation, so I was worried. But now that I know where he is and that he’s fine, I’ll be leaving. Which, by the way, had been my plan all along, hadn’t your friend here stopped me.” She eyed Billy up and down once more who was still looking back at her. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I’m gonna take my leave now.” Instead of going around the group to get to the street she moved straight forwards. Beatrice moved out of her way, but Billy remained where he was. She ignored it, shoving him lightly with her shoulder as she moved past him. This time they let her go, but the questioning wasn’t over. Now they focused on Leo.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any friends,” said Jessie. Her tone was not accusing in any way, just curious, different from all the looks he got from the others.

“I did say that. I lied,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. She’s the only friend I have. This is the truth, I swear. She’s the only one at home who ever really cared for me. She cares enough to know that I couldn’t stay there, that I had to get away from that life she’s a part of. That’s also why she came, to check up on me, to see if I was alright. I swear to you guys, that’s the truth. I didn’t tell you because…” He stopped for a second. Why hadn’t he told them about Mary-Belle? “If you had known that there was this person at home that cared about me like she does, you wouldn’t have let me in, we wouldn’t be the way we are now.” And he had wanted to keep her a secret. She had stuck by his side all their life. He never understood why she had decided to stay inside with him when there was so much to see outside of the palace. She did go outside, partly due to his request, but she’d always come back and tell him about what she’d seen. Even if it felt wrong, she belonged to a different part of his life. A life that didn’t fit into this group.

The others were still unconvinced, but let it go for now. He had broken their trust, but his reasoning was understandable, so they would forgive him soon. But now they had things to do. They huddled together revising the plan they had made the night before on how to efficiently shadow Watson before they started the operation.

The next day, Mary-Belle followed the same way she had taken before. Now that she knew where to find Leopold, she didn’t have to stop and overthink whether she should have taken that turn back there or the one up ahead, whether she walked in the right direction or should turn around. The streets were just as crowded as before but a familiar sight made her stop in her tracks.

Men of the castle, dressed in their uniform, were roaming the streets. As she took a closer look, she recognized one of them as Daimler who had been responsible for Leopold for as long as she could remember. They talked shortly with each other, three in total. Then they parted ways. But none of them walked back towards the castle. Rather they seemed to stroll down the streets, their gazes moving over the people. It took her a second to understand what was happening, but when she did, Mary-Belle hurried, taking a different way to get around them and to Leopold before Daimler did.

She kept looking behind her to reassure herself she had lost them or that she at least was in front of them. She had just thrown another look over her shoulder when she bumped into someone. She was about to apologize and move on when the voice of the person she had run into reached her ears. “What happened that you look so panicked, Mary-Belle?”

Leopold looked at her questioningly when she grabbed his arms and looked at him with wide eyes. “Daimler is out looking for you. I saw his men stopping people who resembled you. He’ll be here soon.” She looked back over her shoulder seeing one of Daimler’s men already down the street. “There is one of them!” She pointed him out to Leo. “I’ll distract him,” she offered. “You go hide!” Leopold thanked her quickly before he turned on his heel and ran in the other direction.

She did her best to regain her composure taking a deep breath before she moved into the path of Daimler’s man, looking as much of a fine lady as she was born to be. Her mother had taught her well. “You’re looking for Prince Leopold, have I heard correctly? Did something happen to him?” She faked a surprised gasp, leaning in conspiratorially. “Did someone take him? I had thought my eyes were deceiving me when I saw him in Acton, but it seems he indeed left the palace. He must still be there. It hasn’t been long since then.” She was lucky this man didn’t recognize her as he thanked her for her help and ran off. Not even the fact that she knew of Leopold’s existence threw him off.

While that man was now going to look for Prince Leopold in the wrong part of the city, she remained in the right one. Since she didn’t know where exactly he went to hide, she walked on towards the place she had talked with him in yesterday. He wasn’t to find there either, but she recognized two of his friends standing around there. One of them was the brutish one who had rudely confronted her the day before. Billy, if she remembered correctly. The other one she hadn’t caught the name of but he was the one walking up to her now with a friendly smile on his face. “You’re Leo’s friend, aren’t you? I’m Spike! Nice to meet you! I actually wanted to apologize for this lad’s behavior yesterday.” He pointed his thumb back over his shoulder at Billy who was eyeing the two of them skeptically. He leaned in and whispered, “He can be nice too, y’know, just doesn’t show it in front of new people.” She chuckled. He seemed the type.

“I understand. I guess, I would be reluctant too if a stranger showed up all of a sudden. My name’s Mary-Belle, but you can call me Mary if you want,” she offered.

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I remembered your name. How could I forget? Grumpy over there wouldn’t shut up about you last night.” This caused a real laugh to bubble up in her throat. Spike laughed with her and led her over to mentioned Grumpy.

“Always a pleasure, Billy.” She smiled at him. His expression turned even sourer. She hadn’t known it to be possible hadn’t she seen it with her own eyes. She turned back towards Spike who seemed to be more willing to engage in a conversation with her. “Have you seen Leo by any chance? I was looking for him.”

“Haven’t seen him since he left the cellar this morning, but he’s supposed to meet us here soon. You’re welcome to wait with us.” Spike sent another one of his charming smiles her way which she returned.

“Thank you. I think I’ll do just that.” Turning towards Billy she cocked her head to the side. “So, Billy, harassed any girls already today?” Spike moved to stand between the two of them before Billy could do anything.

“Don’t you think that takes it a bit too far?”, he asked her.

“No, I don’t actually. He cornered me and wouldn’t let me go until you guys came around. That’s not alright, so no, I’m not taking it too far. I was lucky he was actually your friend and not a random person. Who knows what would’ve happened otherwise!”, she argued. Her voice remained calm, but her eyes gave away the storm of feelings inside of her. Spike looked taken aback, so was Billy. They hadn’t thought of it that way.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing she ever heard Billy say without any menace lacing his words. Their eyes met for a moment before he looked away again and went back to being quiet.

Spike looked from one to the other, wondering if there would be any more or if she had made her point and that’s it. She didn’t say anything either. Rather she opted to lean against the wall they had been standing next to. Spike followed her move to stand next to her.

“So,” broke Mary-Belle the silence, “what have you guys been up to?” Spike and Billy shared a glance, their uncertainty about what to say evident on their faces. “Leo has told me all about the monsters, so don’t worry about that.”

“He has?”, blurted Billy.

“He has,” she confirmed. The boys shared a look, the meaning of which remained unknown to Mary-Belle, but the moment was over quickly and Spike turned towards her. Billy went back to watching the people who passed, seemingly uninterested in the conversation.

“Just boring things, really. Nothing you have to concern yourself with. But we barely know anything about you. Why don’t you tell us something?”

“There is not much to know, to be honest. I’ve lived a fairly easy life, everything dictated by my parents, much like it had been for Leo, but I always had a roof over my head and a warm bed. Whenever we were together, I felt free, like I could just be myself without having to behave the way everyone expected of me.” She stopped talking quickly, thinking back over her words and let out a chuckle. “That was probably not something one should share in their first conversation with someone. Anyways, my favorite colour is blue.”

“Oh, that’s Billy’s favourite colour as well!” Mary-Belle let out a relieved breath that Spike chose not to focus on the first part but kept the topic of conversation light. Her eyes met Billy’s for a second before he looked away again, ignoring Spike who had grabbed his shoulder. “Mine’s orange. You know, when the sun’s almost down but still colours the water. That orange.”

“I don’t even remember the last time I saw that, but it sounds nice,” she admitted. She probably had never seen that, having been held in carriages if they were out at that time. They barely went near the water either. Most of her travel was between her home and the castle.

Billy opened his mouth to add something to the conversation, but stopped himself when someone called out to Mary-Belle. Leo made his way over and asked to speak to her alone for a moment. “Thank you for keeping me company,” she said to the two boys, “both of you.” Her gaze went from Spike to Billy. Then she walked a few steps with Leo until they were out of earshot.

“Daimler found me,” he came right to the point.

“What? Then why are you here now? And not on your way back to the castle?” She tried to keep her voice calm, but failed as it was slightly raised.

“Mother wasn’t informed of me running away. He would lose his job if she knew he let me, so he won’t bother me again.”

“Are you sure? He’s smart, whether you like it or not. He will probably come up with another way to get you to come back. He knows where you are now.”

“He won’t be a problem. I know it.”

“If you say so.” She wasn’t convinced of it.

“I actually have to go now,” he noted. Over her shoulder he could see that Bea and Jessie had joined Spike and Billy and were now just waiting for him. “We will talk soon, I promise,” he adds at the hurt look that flashed across her face. She nodded and watched him go with the others.

Spike turned and waved at her as they were leaving. She raised her hand and gave him a wave as well. A small smile had made its way back onto her face. Another pair of eyes watched her before his focus was taken by Spike prodding him with his elbow. “Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart, Billy!”

Early the next day Mary-Belle heard word that Prince Leopold was to entertain his cousin Helena with a possible marriage in the future. Her mother had mentioned all that off-handedly during breakfast, making Mary-Belle choke on her tea. “I shall meet with him afterwards.”

“I’d assume they already count on you showing up on a day like this. Just be safe, your father had mentioned rising disturbances in the streets.”

“Of course, mother. I will be on my way shortly, then.”

Now she was walking the grounds, having been too late to show Leopold off to his meeting or talk to him about what had transpired the day before and too early since he was still having tea with Helena. Her mind was racing with thoughts about what might have happened, whether Leopold had come back willingly which she doubted but it was an option. Or maybe her worries had been legitimate and Daimler had found a way.

She got distracted by a commotion ahead of her. Palace guards stormed over to a person who had seemed to have jumped the wall. She neared cautiously which turned into confident steps when she identified the person being escorted off the grounds as Spike. She held herself high to convey as much authority as possible. “Let him go!”, she ordered, her voice not giving away the nervousness she was feeling as she stood up to the guards.

“But Lady-“, one of the guards who seemed to be in charge of the rest tried to argue.

“I said to let him go. He will come with me.” The guards who held onto Spike looked from her to their superior who nodded after a moment of consideration. They reluctantly let go of Spike who dusted off his jacket and reorganized his clothes. “And now you should go back to your posts.”

“Yes, Lady Mary-Belle!” They left, but not without wary side glances at Spike whom she turned to next.

“And you, follow me!” She started walking towards the castle. Spike easily fell into step next to her.

“That was amazing! I didn’t know you had it in you to have palace guards tremble in their knees. Thank you!” He looked back over his shoulder to watch the retreating guards.

“You don’t need to thank me. I’d rather you tell me what happened yesterday that Leo is back now.” Her brain seemed to just now catch up with her actions and the fact that Spike had tried to actually break into the Buckingham Palace. “And how you knew to come here! And why you did it. You just risked imprisonment or even a death sentence! Do you realize that? A lot of bad things could have happened, hadn’t I shown up.”

“Yes, but this is important! I had to come here and get Leo. He needs to come back with me.”

“Why? What happened?” She stopped next to the door she had used to enter the gardens. Her hand was already on the handle before she put it down again. This conversation was better to be had out of earshot of nosy palace personnel.

“Didn’t he tell you?”

She shook her head no. “I didn’t get the chance to speak with him yet.”

“Some guy told Bea who Leo is. He was in the cellar when we came back yesterday. She threw Leo out after. But we need him for what’s to come. She doesn’t know I’m here, but I know it’s what needs to be done.”

“I understand. Alright, come with me. He’s doing something right now, but I will make sure he speaks with you.” She led him through the palace halls, ignoring the hushed whispers of the people they passed at the sight of him. “Why did you come alone?”

Spike hesitated. “Bea doesn’t want to see him and I don’t know where Jessie is. Her and Bea had a fight.”

“What about Billy?”

He hesitated again. “He was imprisoned because he accidentally killed Vic Collins,” he admitted.

Mary-Belle stopped abruptly. Spike almost walked into her but caught himself before he did. When she turned towards him her eyes were widened in shock. “He did what? Wait- how… wha- how do you kill someone accidentally? And who is Vic Collins?”

Spike started to feel uncomfortable under her intense gaze and with the questions. He looked around before leaning in and whispering, “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” She realized they were out in the open, easy for anyone to listen in to their conversation.

“You’re right.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the next room. A quick look around told her that they were alone, so she put her attention back on Spike. “Explain!”

“Well… don’t you want to sit down?”, he asked gesturing towards the chairs standing in the middle of the room.

“No, I don’t want to fucking sit down, Spike! Tell me what happened!” Her voice came out louder than intended. She tried to compose herself again with a few deep breaths but couldn’t help the anxious thoughts of all the possible things Spike might tell her now. Even though she hadn’t been particularly friendly with Billy, she never would have thought him a killer.

“Vic Collins was the master of the workhouse Billy and the girls were at. I don’t know everything that happened to them there but it wasn’t pretty. Billy saw him the other day and then last night… I don’t know exactly what happened but he told me it was an accident. Billy hit Vic. His head hit a pile of bricks and that was it. But Vic was one of them, so even if this was an accident…” He didn’t like speaking those next words. Luckily, he didn’t have to because Mary-Belle understood him anyways.

She knew how important these people were for Leo, so she made a decision rather quickly. “Where is he being held?” Spike told her. “I will take care of it,” she promised. “Leo will get out of his meeting shortly. Until then, I will leave you in good hands.” She once again led him out of the room. He was too perplexed to say much more. She was different than what he had imagined, doing that for a person she barely knew. Billy would be surprised, he thought.

She opened the door to the room she knew Louise would be occupying. She introduced Spike to her who was already charming his way into her heart when Mary-Belle left. On her way out, he called after her to meet them at Baker Street 221B, whether she succeeded or not.

Her first stop was her father’s office. The door was adorned with a plaque announcing the name of the person within. She entered after a voice from inside told her to come in. Her father was not a scary person. He might look the way with his stern gaze and his broad-shouldered physique and if Mary-Belle didn’t know him she would certainly be intimidated by him, but the person in front of her was her father who had never shown her anything but kindness.

“Mary-Belle, what a nice surprise!” His features softened as he recognized his daughter. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be at the palace.”

“I was.” She neared the desk her father was sitting behind. It was a big one, elegant, dark, something conveying his status. “I need your help, Father.”

“What is it, Mary-Belle? Come, sit!” He came around the table and led her to sit in one of the comfortable chairs he had standing by the wall. He took a seat next to her, taking in her troubled expression. “What can I help you with?”

“There is this boy…”, she started, but was interrupted.

“Are you in love, darling?”

“No, no, that’s not it.” She had to laugh a little at the absurdity of the thought. “He is a friend of mine, but something happened. He… There was an incident. He defended himself, but while doing so the other man… he- he died. And now my friend is going to get a death sentence because he is poor and the man he killed was a master at the workhouse. But he is not at fault, Father! It was in self-defense! He does not deserve this, so I need to get him out. Please, Father, will you help me?”

Her father hummed understandingly. “That is quite the situation your friend has gotten himself into. But I might be of help. If he is important to you, he is important to me.”

“Oh, thank you, Father!” She couldn’t hold back the smile as she threw her arms around him. When she let go of him, he walked over to his desk and pulled a piece of paper out of one of the drawers. She watched as he wrote something down on it, put it in an envelope and sealed it. He did the same thing a second time, putting names on both envelopes.

“Now I need you to do something. I do not have the time to do it myself, so I’m leaving this task to you.” She nodded, already reaching out for the envelope her father held towards her. “Bring this to Governor Jameson. If he does as it says in the letter, he will give you one as well. Then this one,” he handed her the second envelope, “you bring to the Chief of Police. As well as the one you will get from Governor Jameson. It will probably not be enough, so,” he opened another drawer. Two little sacks were put onto the desk, the content clinging as they were moved, “here is some money. He may not let him out just by the words of some important people, but I know the man. He is as greedy as they come. Give him this. Save some coins to give to the ones working where your friend is being held. I can’t do any more than this, but I hope it is enough.”

“Thank you so much, Father!” She grabbed the coin bags and put them into the pockets of her skirt before she turned to leave.

“I hope you can get him out, darling. And take care!”

“Of course! I will see you tonight!” She held onto the letters as tight as she could without damaging them as she ran through the streets of London. Governor Jameson’s office was not far but the streets were rowdy. She let out a sigh of relief when she entered the house.

The governor wouldn’t speak with her right away. She was told he was in an important meeting, so she waited in the hall. Every now and then someone passed her but they usually didn’t pay attention to her. As she waited, she thought about what was happening at the palace right now, if Spike already had the chance to speak to Leopold and what he had said. Maybe he went with him. She hoped he did. From what Spike told her they needed him. He had become a part of their group. And now she had to work on getting the last member of that group back.

Now that she had time to think, the pressure she was under sank in. She was responsible for getting Billy out of jail and through that saving his life. If she failed, what other options would he have? Would it be over for him then? She didn’t like to think about that outcome. This needed to work. If not, she wouldn’t know what to do anymore.

A young man came towards her. “Governor Jameson will see you now, Miss.” He showed her the way, knocked and opened the door for her to enter.

“Ah, Lady Mary-Belle. How is your father? I would believe he has much to do with the way people seem to be acting at the moment.” The man behind the desk had a round face. He usually tried to hide his receding hairline with a hat which was now hanging from the hat stand next to the door. He invited her farther into the room before he asked what he could do for her.

“My father sent me. He gave me this letter for you,” she explained and held the envelope out to him. He took it with a smile that couldn’t quite hide his surprised expression. It was unusual for anyone to send their daughters for business purposes. He opened the envelope, intently reading the letter inside, nodding along as he read. “I see,” he muttered when he put it down. “That’s quite the dilemma. I will support this, but tell your father he owes me.” He picked up a pen and pulled a piece of paper from a drawer.

“Of course! Thank you, sir!” He quickly scribbled some lines down before he sealed the letter into an envelope. “I believe you have somewhere else to go now, so I won’t keep you any longer, but remember that this won’t come without a price.”

“Yes, thank you again, sir. I will be on my way then.” She took the envelope from him. Now that she had the letters whose content she was unfamiliar with she felt like half the work was done already, but she was unsure of how the conversation with the Chief of Police would go. He might be the biggest obstacle in her way.

Even getting an opportunity to speak with the Chief of Police turned out to be quite the deed. The whole building was bustling with people running around. There were shouts and clamoring. Everyone was restless. She tried to go about it as usual, walking up to the reception and waiting for someone to offer their help. But even behind the reception desk there was no one who spared her a second glance as they went about their business, frantically looking for things and calling people’s names. She stood there for what felt like forever just watching them ignore her. The door kept being opened and closed, the slam filling the air each time it fell shut. And each time it did, Mary-Belle jumped a little. When the loud noise of the door closing sounded again, she decided she would not wait around any longer. Since nobody paid attention to her anyways at the moment, she used it to her advantage and tried to find her way through the hallways to the one person she needed to speak with.

She never thought it would be this easy to get inside the Headquarters without being stopped, but there she was reading the signs by the doors that would tell her which room she had to enter. She blamed it on the current situation with all that negative supernatural energy or whatever it was in the air. It might’ve helped to ask more about that, but now it was too late. The thumping footsteps came and went, but they never stopped next to her.

When she finally found the right room, she was out of breath. The building was larger than it looked like from the outside. But she was also incredibly nervous. Now was the moment that would decide Billy’s future. She fumbled for the two letters in the pockets of her skirt. The paper got scrunched a little by how tightly she held onto it. This was it. This was possibly the only chance.

She knocked. She wanted to knock with force, letting the Chief know that she was no person easily intimidated, but it was a faint, polite knock. A knock in the way her mother had taught her. Still, it was heard, even over the commotion happening all around and she was asked to enter.

The midday sun illuminated the room, its rays finding their way through the big windows behind the desk the Chief was sitting behind. He watched intently as she entered, curious as to what a young girl was doing there at a time like this. “Please, sit down. What may I help you with, miss?”

She did as she was told, sitting down in one of the two chairs facing the desk. It was uncomfortable, not meant to be sat on for a long time and Mary-Belle felt utterly unwelcome even though the Chief of Police gave her a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes though which were accentuated by the dark bags under them. She once again made use of the mask of confidence she put on at the palace. “Hello, sir. My name is Mary-Belle Heavensforth, daughter of Lord Aaron Heavensforth. I come to you regarding the case of a young man who is now in confinement. I may answer any question you have, but first, you should read these letters.” She handed them over, surprised at the fact that her hand was not shaking.

He broke the seal of the first letter quickly, scanning over the lines before he turned his attention to the second letter. He held one in each hand, his gaze darting from one to other, humming in acknowledgement. The content of the letters was unknown to Mary-Belle, so she had to assume her father only gave information he had known from her. He might have left out some details – the letter wasn’t long enough to have the whole story and the plea – so it was on her to fill in any information he might still need and to do anything it would take to get Billy out. “I see,” he said before he looked over the brim of the papers at her. “So, you believe this boy to be innocent.” She nodded. “Explain to me then what transpired and why you think we should let him go.” So, she gave him the story that Spike had told her, about the master at the workhouse, his history with Billy and his friends and what had happened the night Vic Collins died. “And were you there that night? Did you see it with your own eyes?”

She faltered. What was the best way to go about this? “I was not.” She chose to stick with the truth. “But,” she followed up, “I do know this boy. He would not consort to this kind of violence if he weren’t defending himself or the people he loved. And he would never kill someone with intent. In front of you, you have the testimonies of two highly educated and sophisticated men with power. They speak out for his release and vouch for him.” At least she hoped that this was what was written on those pages her father had sent with her. “I vouch for him as well even though my word might not mean much to you. I will see to it that such thing will not happen again and that you may not hear of him badly anymore.”

“It does say here that your father will see to it that the boy may be put under his supervision. I do believe that your father is a man of his word. I have not been proven to think any less of him yet.” The Chief put one of the letters down to scratch his beard in thought. “But I can’t just write you a release form for this boy out of nowhere.”

“My father had guessed you might say something like that, so he gave me this for you.” She reached into her pockets once again and pulled out one coin bag. She sat it on top of his desk, making sure the coins made a sound as she dumped it on top of his papers. He snatched it up immediately, opening it to look inside at the shiny coins.

“That is indeed a compelling argument,” he pondered. He weighed the bag in his hand eyeing the coins with great interest. “Alright, I will write a release form for this boy, but do have your father contact me again in a few days. I need to speak with him.”

“Of course.” She could barely suppress her smile. She did it! She actually did it! Billy would get out and not die by judge’s rule. She looked on as the Chief shouted for someone. The door swung open revealing a rather young-looking man. His hair was disheveled and he seemed to be just as busy as everyone else in the building.

“Please, show this young lady to our front area,” he addressed the man. Mary-Belle felt panic rush in. If he had just betrayed her, taken the money and the letters, she would have lost. She would have fought for Billy’s life without success and would have to leave him to his destiny. As much as she had thought about it, there was no other way. She would be back on the streets with no trumps up her sleeve and the impending death of a boy weighing down her heart. But, the Chief turned back towards her as she lifted herself off the chair. “I will have the letter brought to you shortly. Just wait down there and that boy will be free as soon as you get the letter to the according office. That is, if your father follows up with his promise that the boy will be put under his care. He will be responsible for the boy’s actions, so he better behave or it will be over with your father’s good standing.”

She recognized his words as they were. A threat. As easily as he could get Billy out of prison now, he could put him back and take her father down right beside him. “Yes, Sir!”

She had to wait in that front area for way too long. People passed. She watched the same people that would enter the building leave it again. A cycle that seemed to find no end and still no release letter in sight. The doubt crept in slowly again. He could just take the money and act like nothing ever happened. She would have nothing against him. And who would believe her? She had no such standing as he did. She was already thinking about how to break the news to Leo and Spike and their other friends. She wasn’t even able to do that. She was quite useless apparently. And replaceable. Leopold had shown it clearly. Each time it seemed so easy for him to leave her and just run off to his new friends and go on adventures with them. Compared to them she had nothing to offer, except for her love but even that he didn’t want.

When the letter finally arrived, given to her by the same man who had led her out of the office, she just took it without another word and left. He would probably not care enough to take the story of her rude behavior back to his superior. She had somewhere to be now and she didn’t care about other people’s opinions at the moment. She felt troubled enough, torn between her love for Leopold and the selfish wish of having him back at the palace with her, away from his new friends and the fact that they were nice people who did nothing wrong. They offered Leopold some form of family, something he couldn’t find at the palace. Something she apparently couldn’t compare to. And now one of them had his life on the line. No matter how she felt towards them she could not just let someone die who didn’t deserve it while knowing she could do something about it. And apparently, she could. Or rather her father could. For the first time ever, she realized how far connections and money could get someone. It opened doors and gave you leverage. She had always been amazed by her father. Now even more so. Even though she didn’t spend that much time with him, she’d always admired him, his hard work and how far it had gotten him.

The scene outside had changed since she had entered the building. Where before the streets seemed quite deserted and eerily quiet, there was now clamoring coming from every corner, frightened screams, angry yells, shocked cries. She dared a quick glance down the first alley she passed on her way to where Billy was held. Two men were rolling in the dirt, their shirts already speckled with blood that dripped from their respective faces. Dirt covered all their clothes as they held onto each other, throwing punches mindlessly. As long as they made contact, they seemed satisfied. She hurried to get away from there and stayed away from small alleys the rest of the way.

She was stopped right after entering the building. An arm shot out, followed by a body that moved in front of her. The burly man sneered at her. “This is no place for a little girl like you.”

She brushed over the comment, choosing to stay professional. “I am here on business,” she announced, handing over the letter from the Chief of Police. “I am to get a boy you are holding here.” He snatched the letter from her hand. He took a quick glance over the written words before he let out a groan. “Fine. Jackson,” he screamed into the room he had previously come out of, “get that orphan kid from the cell. We’re letting him go.” He didn’t seem pleased about it as he looked back at her. “You should be careful. He’s dangerous.”

“I am aware,” she answered nonchalantly before she pulled the second coin bag out of her pocket and put it into the hands of the officer. “For your troubles.” She smiled politely. His eyes narrowed onto the bag, intrigued by the weight in his hand. His demeanor changed drastically in a split second.

“Of course. It is our duty to be here for the people of London. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to get back to work, but you will be brought to the boy shortly.” Mary-Belle refrained from rolling her eyes, but gave him a polite smile and nod instead. At least until his back was turned towards her. She doubted he would work now. He will probably go to sit down in private and count the coins in the bag.

Another man appeared in the door. “Please, follow me. He is being held in the back.” The smile on this man’s face seemed way more genuine than the old man’s. He couldn’t be more than a few years older than her. He led her down the narrow hall and down some stairs into a gloomy basement that held the cell. It was packed to the brim with all different kinds of people. She couldn’t find Billy at first glance, the many bodies obstructing her view. The man, Jackson, walked over to the guard by the door telling him what was about to happen. His eyes wandered over to her figure shortly before looking back at Jackson and narrowing his eyes. It took him some more talking to before he turned around and focused his gaze on someone. “You, orphan boy,” he called out catching the blonde’s attention, “you’re free to go.” The barred door rattled as it was pushed open. The surprise on Billy’s face was obvious as he stepped out of the cell. “You have that lady over to thank.” The guard gestured over to you.

A look of confusion washed over Billy’s face as he saw Mary-Belle standing at the bottom of the stairs. He never expected to see her there, especially not to get him out of jail. He was too shocked to say anything as he neared her. Mary-Belle quickly grew tired of his non-reaction. She grabbed his wrist and led him out of the shabby cellar and out onto the street where the people were still clamoring and screaming at each other. A different picture than what she was used to seeing in the streets of London.

Billy got ahold of himself quickly after they made it outside. The fresh air helped him focus his thoughts. As soon as they got to the street, he jerked his hand out of her hold, making her turn to look at him expectantly, eyebrows raised and hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”, he asked, still in that tone like he hated her guts and was spitting accusations.

“You know, you should be nicer to the person who got you out of a trial that would most definitely have ended in your death.” That shut him up, at least momentarily, but he also did not deem it necessary to thank her. He glared at her for another moment before he left her standing there. She watched after him in bewilderment at his audacity. But Billy rethought his decision when he saw at least five people in a fistfight happening over a dead body. It was already worse than he had thought. He walked back over to her, grabbed her wrist like she had his before and dragged her along with him, past the fighting people.

“We are supposed to meet Spike at Baker Street 221B,” she told him after they had walked in silence for a minute. Billy wondered shortly how she came to know this, what happened while he had been in that cell that now this girl he barely knew got him out of his certain doom, but he kept quiet and led her to Baker Street 221B.

They were the last to arrive. The whole group was already present. Bea and Spike were happy to see Billy out as a free man and greeted him happily, enclosing him in hugs. They thanked Mary-Belle for her help before they turned their attention back to him. When the three of them and Leo moved to the other room, she didn’t know whether to follow them or leave. Eventually, she took some steps to follow them but stopped in the doorway. There, in the room, a dark-haired girl was lying unconsciously on the sofa with the others gathered around her. It seemed an intimate situation that she didn’t want to intrude on, so she made the decision to leave them now. She had done her part and was not needed anymore.

A tall man walked towards the room the teenagers were gathered in when Mary-Belle was about to open the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her. His gaze followed her arm to the door handle. “You shouldn’t go out there now,” he advised. Joyful sounds came from the adjacent room. The girl must have woken up. “Come with me,” he ordered and so, she followed him back to the room.

The girl that had been previously unconscious was sitting upright on the sofa now and told this man about a place they needed to go to. He nodded sternly and told the boys to follow him, leaving Mary-Belle alone with the two girls. She felt entirely out of place and didn’t know what to say or do. She couldn’t even look at them, so she walked over to the window and looked outside while the other two were speaking in hushed voices among themselves.

Outside was a mess, people running around, swinging weapons of all sorts, handmade, bought or just using whatever was available to hurt others. Just outside the window she was looking on as a man bashed in the skull of another, his teeth fletched. He even seemed to be growling at the man who was lying at his feet, blood flowing out of his fatal wound, coloring the sidewalk a dark red. Mary-Belle covered her mouth with a shaky hand at the barbaric act that had occurred in front of her eyes. And when the man looked up, his crazy eyes staring right into hers she let out a gasp and took a step back. She had seen pure rage in his eyes, no clear thoughts, just the urge to hurt and kill.

Her eyes were still fixed on the curtain. It had fallen back into place but she still had the image of the open skull and the look in the man’s eyes on her mind as if she was still staring at it. A hand grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Her gaze travelled to the person who sat her down on a chair far away from the window. She was still shaking. It was Billy whose place was quickly taken by Leo. He had looked out the window to see what had left you in this state. The crazy man was gone, but the body was still lying there on the sidewalk. Leo kneeled down by her side. His hand rested on her knee as he talked to her reassuringly. Her breathing calmed after a short while as the others looked on. She found words to answer Leo’s worried questions in a quiet voice.

As it was clear that she would be fine the other’s attention shifted. Beatrice and Jessie shared a look that had a clear meaning. They had to go. Now. Beatrice announced it to the group that immediately moved to the entrance. Bea stayed back a moment longer with Leo and Mary-Belle. “She’s coming with us!”, Leo insisted, looking up at Bea from his kneeling position.

The girl did not have the time to argue with him right now. They were in a hurry, so she agreed. “As long as she doesn’t get in the way.

“I won’t,” Mary-Belle promised and stood up to join the rest of the group.

When they left the building, warned by Watson to stay together, she threw a glance in the direction of the window she had been standing in. The body looked different now. Pieces of the skull and brain were scattered around it. Bile rose up in her throat, but she forced herself to look away and keep moving. She promised not to be in the way and so she wouldn’t. And she wouldn’t slow them down either. She hiked up her skirt – which was a very inconvenient choice of clothing for the occasion – and hurried after the others.

She was filled in about the whole situation by Leo on the way. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. “I thought you said you’d be safe!”, she exclaimed in frustration and anger. “That is not ‘being safe’! It’s like the opposite of safe. We are literally running towards the danger!”

“The danger is all around us!”, he retaliated. “We have to stop this! We’re the only ones that can because we know what is happening.”

They came to a stop in front of the entrance to Aldgate Station. Watson tried to open the door, unsuccessfully. It was jammed. It only took him a moment to come up with a different plan. He showed them another entrance, through the sewers. All of them stood around the hole looking down into the dark. Even though it was the only way to get to the Linen Man and Sherlock, a shudder crept down Mary-Belle’s spine at the thought of going down there.

Billy nudged Spike to tell him to go first, but he refused. There was another moment where none of them moved a muscle but then Mary-Belle heard distant noises which made her overcome her fears for a moment and announced, “Then I’ll go first!” She quickly climbed down before she could change her mind again but the growling and yelps coming from up there just helped to reassure her in her decision. Her skirt tore on the way down. She didn’t complain though as it gave her more freedom to move although it was a bad day to have worn one of her favorite dresses.

Surprisingly, the sewers were lit well enough to see without any additional gadgets. It only took Mary-Belle a moment to get used to the dim lighting. By the time she was able to see completely fine, the others have found their way down. Watson instructed them to stay together and to be quiet. It would be over for them if the Linen Man knew they were there. In moments like this Mary-Belle regretted tagging along. She was pretty certain she would die today. How could a bunch of teenagers save the world? Especially from some supernatural Rip that’s threatening to absorb this world? She still didn’t quite get what was actually happening. It was all a bit hard to wrap her mind around.

She kept close to Watson while moving through the tunnel. Sticking close to the only adult seemed like the most reasonable decision. He gave the impression he knew what he was doing which made her feel a little safer.

Nobody noticed the moment Beatrice stopped moving with them. Only when she cried out in agony they realized and quickly rushed back to her. Panic washed over Mary-Belle as she remembered the words Watson said about what would happen if the Linen Man found out they were there. Watson covered her mouth to stop her screams, hoping against all hope that the Linen Man and Sherlock hadn’t heard them yet and thus knew that they were close.

They started moving again after Beatrice had calmed down. It hadn’t taken long but time was precious now. With every second passing the world was closer to its end. Mary-Belle still remained close to Watson while she kept stealing glances at Beatrice to gather whether she would be alright. Every single sound had her on edge.

That the boys were not behind them anymore was suddenly realized when they started crying out. Beatrice did as well, clutching her head and sinking towards the ground. Tears were streaming over her face and she mumbled, “No, no, don’t go! Mum! Mum!” Mary-Belle tore her gaze away from Beatrice when gunshots were fired right next to her. The loud sound left her ear ringing. She only saw a flash of white before it was gone, scared away by Watson’s gun. Jessica ran after it and left them to deal with Beatrice who would not calm down.

The boys’ cries could still be heard as well, Leo’s standing out to Mary-Belle the most. She couldn’t bear hearing that and doing nothing, so she ran towards him. Watson shouted her name after her, telling her to not walk off alone, but she didn’t listen. If he didn’t have to take care of Beatrice, he would’ve gotten up to stop her, but he couldn’t leave the crying girl on the ground alone there.

Mary-Belle ran back down the path they had taken, following his outcries, she quickly found Leopold. He was sitting on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest and his head between his hands. He screams and cries out. Each cry tore more at her chest. He removed his hands from his ears to stare at them as if he could see something on them that she didn’t. She dropped down next to him and tried to talk him out of it like he did with her back at Baker Street, but she couldn’t get through to him, so she just sat there, quiet tears rolling down her face at seeing the boy she loved in this state.

And then it stopped. From one moment to the next, his screams quieted down. He looked up from the ground and towards her in confusion, not grasping what had just happened. Relief flooded her system as she threw her arms around him. It took a moment, but then he returned the hug, desperately holding on to her.

Billy’s voice called out to Leo prompting them to let go off each other. He appeared in front of them seconds after and helped Leo off the ground who in turn helped Mary-Belle. His movements were still slow and staggered like he didn’t quite have a grasp on reality. Billy then called out to Spike who called back immediately. The three of them moved towards where his voice was coming from, finding him on the ground as well. He was already back on his feet when they came to a stop by his side. They made sure he was unharmed, physically at least, before continuing on the way they had gone before this happened, hoping to reunite with Beatrice, Watson and Jessica.

When Beatrice and Watson were already in sight, just down the tunnel, the earth began to rumble, debris falling down, dust collecting on their heads and clothes. Leopold pulled Mary-Belle back before the ceiling of the tunnel collapsed in front of them, separating them from Beatrice and Watson.

When most of the dust settled and she could see clearly again she saw Billy lying on the ground. His leg was pinned under two big stoned and he knew that it was wrecked. “Billy! Leo!”, Beatrice shouted from the other side of the rubble as Leo and Spike helped Billy up. He couldn’t put weight on the leg without crying out in pain, so Spike supported him. They let Beatrice know that his leg was probably broken.

A short argument broke out since Beatrice wanted them to go back to the cellar but Billy refused to leave them. “Be reasonable, Billy,” Mary-Belle chimed in. “The tunnels aren’t safe and you wouldn’t be of much help anyway with your leg. You should rest before it will get even worse,” she argued.

Billy was about to retort when Beatrice spoke up again. “Listen to her, Billy!” She sounded desperate. “And promise me… Promise me that you’ll keep each other safe.” Silence overcame them for a moment as they thought about what they were going to do before Spike agreed and gave her the promise. Leo followed suit. For Billy to agree it took some more demands from Beatrice. Her voice still sounded strong despite her desperation and in that moment Mary-Belle realized what Leopold saw in her. “Mary-Belle?” Beatrice called out to her as well, this time a bit calmer. “Will you promise me, too?” She was surprised that Beatrice wanted her to give the promise as well. After all, she was not a part of their group.

“Of course,” she replied nonetheless, never having thought of doing anything other. “I promise.” With those promises made they went on their way, Leopold going to Billy’s other side to support him as well. Mary-Belle walked behind them. Still feeling uneasy, she kept throwing glances over her shoulder like something would appear there at any moment. Thankfully, it didn’t and they made it out of the sewers without any more incidents.

“Mary-Belle, here, take over!”, Spike instructed you, so that he could move in front of them to protect them. She took his place at Billy’s side. He slung his arm over her shoulder begrudgingly. He didn’t have much of a choice now about who would help him move. He just needed to get home and off the streets, so he would have to get used to the idea of Mary-Belle supporting him on the way.

The streets were ruthless. Never had she seen anything like this. The people had turned crazy. The ones that hadn’t either fell victim to the ones that had or hid out in their homes behind barred doors and windows. Having to basically carry Billy through the streets slowed them down immensely. Each time they came upon someone she tensed but kept moving in the strong believe that when it came to it, Spike would protect them. Most of the time they were ignored though. Maybe they were not interesting enough for those who found liking in eating someone’s intestines. The things Mary-Belle had already seen today were nightmare material for the rest of her life, but she doubted that it would be all. The day wasn’t over yet, the world hadn’t ended yet. There was still time to be traumatized even more.

With each step Billy hissed in pain. He tried his hardest not to scream but some steps were even worse than the ones before and he couldn’t stop the screams that escaped him.

The sight of the ‘Duck and Quiver’ sign was a relief. They had made it. Mary-Belle was out of breath. Her body was hurting from having to haul Billy all the way through the city but she did not dare compare it to the pain he must be feeling. He had to sit down for a moment on the stairs across the street from the pub, groaning and hissing. They had tried to stabilize his leg. It didn’t do much but was probably better than just leaving it without.

“Watson was right,” said Leo, “the city’s turning. With the Rip the way it is every time someone prays for help or wishes, that’s all it takes now.”

“We should’ve stayed and found a way through. We’re useless here,” added Billy.

“You would have been useless there, too,” Mary-Belle remarked, growing tired of his behavior. “I mean, look at you. You can barely stand. What would you have done there? Going back was the best option whether you choose to believe it or not.”

“You-“ Billy’s answer was cut short as what looked like blue lightning soared through the sky. It rumbled, crackled and sissed as it came down from the sky and connected with the building that held the pub. Blue lines danced along the walls as the magic – there was no other way Mary-Belle could describe it – made its way into the building.

“Jessie still hasn’t closed the Rip,” observed Leo. “It’s nearly over. It could be too late now.”

Spike rushed them to get moving again, so that they could find shelter in the cellar and hope for the best. Mary-Belle moved back to Billy’s side and helped him get up as Leo took his other side. They stopped again shortly after as terrified screams came towards them and a bunch of people came running from behind the corner, a weapon-swinging attacker after them. They tried to stop him as he had a nun cornered against her door but without any luck.

Spike didn’t hesitate as he lunged forward and knocked him out with his rifle. The man fell to the ground having lost his consciousness. Spike was rather excited about the fact that he succeeded in taking him down. “I rifled him! I rifled him!”, he announced in disbelief. Leo, Billy and Mary-Belle moved over to him as he helped up the nun who had been cowering on the ground. She told them how the man came after them in the church. She was desperate as she told them that they had nowhere to go. Billy immediately offered that they could come with them and so, they made their way to the cellar together.

Mary-Belle let out a sigh of relief when Spike closed the door behind them and barred it. With walls surrounding them she felt a lot safer than out on the street. They set Billy down on a chair. Without him weighing down on her she stood up straight again and rolled her shoulders to get at least some of the tension out. It barely worked. The stress and anxiety just made her more tense. No rolling her shoulders would help with that.

Sister Anna, as Mary-Belle had found out the nun was called, moved to the back of the cellar with the other two they had taken in while Billy, Spike, Leo and Mary-Belle stayed more in the front. She went to stand with Leo. “How are you feeling?”, she asked.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. That was close back there. You do realize you were almost crushed back then, don’t you?” His gaze was fixed on her, worry in his eyes.

“Don’t turn this on me now,” she scolded. “I asked how you were doing. I am fine, thanks to you, but the Linen Man got into your mind. What did you see? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I- There was blood, so much blood. I-I don’t know. I thought I was about to die.” His eyes glazed over as he thought back on the visions he had. “I was all alone and I thought I was dying.” He didn’t say anything else, stuck on that feeling. Mary-Belle wrapped him into another hug bringing him back into the moment. “Thank you!” He smiled at her softly before his gaze moved over to Billy who was breathing heavily from the extortion that getting to the cellar had been for him. “How did you get Billy out of jail anyway?” She recalled the story for him, stressing that it wouldn’t have been possible if she had done it without her father’s help. “How did he take the condition that he would be under your father’s supervision?”

“I didn’t tell him yet,” she admitted, avoiding the reproachful look he gave her. “How am I supposed to tell him? I can barely be near him without him hating every moment. That doesn’t really make me enjoy his company either. He hates me. I’m sure of it.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Leo argued. “That’s how he was with me at first as well. Now we’re friends. New people are not really his thing, I guess, especially rich ones.”

“Leo’s right.” Mary-Belle jumped at Spike’s sudden appearance by her side. “It may be hard to believe for you, but Billy is actually quite nice and a good friend. He cares. More than he admits himself sometimes. And I bet he doesn’t hate you. You two just got off on the wrong foot.”

“So, you’re saying…”

“You should talk to him.” Spike and Leopold both rolled their eyes at the groan she let out. They kept looking at her expectantly as she waited to see who would give in first.

“Ugh, fine.” She was the first to break. She turned towards Billy and even got a little shove from Spike to get her to move. She shot a sour glance at him over her shoulder but went to sit down next to Billy. He looked up from what he was doing to focus on her. She couldn’t quite decipher the way he was looking at her. It might be hatred, might be intrigue, might be disgust.

“What are you doing?” He asked after she did not speak up after sitting down.

“I just wanted to sit,” she replied but she could feel Spike and Leo watching her, their gazes boring into her and giving her the motivation to talk a little more. “How are you feeling?”

“Still think we should’ve stayed, should’ve been there for Bea and Jess,” he grumbled.

“Look,” she tried to explain once again, “I told you. With your leg like that, you can barely move. Just getting here already took such a strain on you. If it had come down to it, if we had to get out of there quickly, you would’ve held everyone back. You can’t do much with your leg like that. And if we hadn’t come here, who knows what would’ve happened to Sister Anna. It was the most reasonable decision. I am sure, Beatrice thought the same. Otherwise, she probably wouldn’t have sent you back. She wanted you to stay safe and I bet she won’t let herself get hurt either. You will all be together again.”

He considered her for a moment. “I guess,” he agreed begrudgingly. They sat in silence for another minute or two. Both of them looking anywhere but at each other. “Thank you,” he finally mumbled. At her confused gaze he groaned once more. “For getting me out of the trial, I mean. You’re right. If they had gone through with it, it would have ended with my death sentence, so thank you. I appreciate it.”

“How about we start over?”, she proposed, turning so she could properly face him.

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. Start over.” She paused for a second before giving him a bright smile and extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mary-Belle.” Throwing all the things she had learned about etiquette out the window she introduced herself with only her first name.

Billy seemed surprised at that. He looked thoughtfully at her outstretched hand before he grasped it. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he pressed her hand gently. “Billy. The pleasure’s all mine.” He laughed a little as he let go of her hand. It brought a genuine smile to her face as she chuckled along. “So,” Billy stated. His gaze was on Leo and Spike who were looking over in a manner that was not very inconspicuous, “do they think I would murder you or is there another reason they are watching us this intently?”

She followed his gaze. The two boys weren’t bothered by the fact that their attention was now on them. “They might. Or they think I would you. We do not have the best history after all.”

“You’re different from what I thought,” Billy admitted which took her by surprise.

“Elaborate.”

“Do I have to?” His eyes found hers again. A teasing smile adorned his lips.

“You do,” she insisted.

“I guess, we met you at a time I was also very suspicious of Leo. For good reason, I might add. He lied to us. I have forgiven him for that, don’t worry,” he added after he saw the look that she gave him before he continued, “But my experiences with nobility hadn’t been very good. I didn’t trust him, so I wouldn’t trust you either. I was rude and I scared you. I’m sorry about that. I thought you’d be just like the others who are well-off, up-tight with a stick up your arse and thinking you are better than everyone else, especially those living like we do. But you are… not like that.” He didn’t explain any further.

“I take that as a compliment, so thank you. You’re not as much of a rowdy as I thought you were.” She squeezed his shoulder as she got up as a way to end the conversation, before she walked over to Leo and Spike.

“He seemed to have taken the news well,” noticed Leo.

She just sighed, hanging her head in shame. “I couldn’t do it. We got along for once and I didn’t want to destroy that right after.”

“You have to tell him at some point.”

“I know. Let’s just survive the night first and then I will tell him. I promise.”

They were shaken out of their conversation when a rattling sounded from the door. Someone was trying to get in. They came together at the bottom of the stairs, ready to defend the cellar. Somehow, Mary-Belle ended up next to Billy who noticed the way she watched the rattling door. Each of them grabbed a weapon. Billy handed her one as well. “Scared?”, he asked.

“Of course. Unlike you apparently, I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“I’m scared, too,” he admitted quietly before chaos reigned down upon them. Surprisingly it didn’t come the way they expected with the door splintering and bloodthirsty people storming in but with the Sister finishing a prayer. They hadn’t been able to stop her from saying that last faithful word. They barely moved fast enough to watch her turn. Her eyes turned black, no light shining in them, no life, no recognition. The dark lines crawling over her skin made her look monstrous, inhuman. But even as her appearance had changed into something not quite human, her voice remained calm as she spoke to the two who were kneeling in front of her and had been praying with her. They too were overcome with the magic of the Rip, not moving away from her, not screaming as she broke their necks.

She then turned her attention to the four of them, calling them heathens as she neared. Her skin was pale, a stark contrast to the dark veins and her black eyes. Mary-Belle was terrified. The feeling only deepening when the bullet Spike shot at her did her no harm. Mary-Belle was pulled back and down some stairs until she moved on her own. Leo supported Billy again as they ran from the cold-hearted monster that had once been a loving person filling people’s hearts with warmth. Spike stopped to reload his rifle. Even if the bullet might not do damage, it might slow her down. But before he was able to target her, she grabbed the rifle out of his hand and threw it to the ground. Her hands gripped the front of his shirt and threw him into a corner. He didn’t move or make a sound, worrying his friends. Mary-Belle could just watch, frozen in place, as Billy attacked the monster. She flinched with every punch and kick he got before he too was thrown across the room. His body slid on the ground until his head bumped against the wall and he fell unconscious.

Her feet were frozen. No matter how much she willed them to move they wouldn’t. She stood there and watched as the monster came towards her. In the corner of her eye she still saw Leo trying to get between her and the monster before she felt her hands on her, felt a dull pain and everything went black.

She came back to when her body was shaken. Slowly opening her eyes while trying to ignore the searing pain behind them she saw Leo towering over her. The worry on his face changed into relief when her eyes found his. She groaned as she sat up, holding her pounding head. Leo helped her up, holding onto her arms tightly. “It’s over!”, he explained. “It’s over! Jessie must have closed the Rip!” She felt great relief as she clung onto Leo.

“Is Spike alright?”, she asked after pulling away from him.

“Am fine, love,” the boy called over having heard her ask the question. Her face lit up as she realized that he was indeed alright. She rushed over and gave him a hug as well, surprising him, but he didn’t complain. Near-death experiences did bring people closer together. Either way, she had always liked the charismatic boy. In her mind they were friends. In his, too. She just didn’t know.

“And you?”, she asked Billy who was sitting down again. The fight could not have been good for his broken leg.

“Not much worse than before,” he answered honestly. Apart from the throbbing in his head, his leg gave him the greatest pain, but it had done that before, too. She nodded at that. They were well and alive and the world wouldn’t end today. She looked around the cellar once more, noticing the absence of the Sister and the bodies. They must have already taken them out while she was unconscious.

“I should probably go, then,” she started, but was stopped by Billy.

“You should at least wait until Bea and Jessie come back and tell us what happened. You deserve to hear the story, too.” The other two boys agreed. It didn’t take much convincing to get her to stay a little longer. They sat in silence, much needed after everything that had happened. It was interrupted after a while by the door opening. Steps made their way down into the cellar. The two girls appeared, covered in dirt with sad looks on their faces that were replaced by happy and relieved ones at the sight of everyone being there.

Mary-Belle watched the way Leopold and Beatrice looked at each other as they got closer and enveloped each other in a hug. It was adoring, loving, in a way Leopold had never looked at her, but she understood now. Understood how she could never compare to Beatrice who was so adventurous and brave. More hugs were exchanged while Mary-Belle just sat there and watched on. There was a short moment Beatrice and her held eye-contact. The black-haired girl nodded at Mary-Belle as a sign of respect and as a thank you for keeping the promise she had made. She couldn’t justify not liking Beatrice anymore after today, but she didn’t know if that made it harder or easier to let go of her feelings for Leo.

She stayed seated as the girls found their own seats and the boys went back to theirs before they started telling what had transpired. Jessie filled them in about her mind battle with the Linen Man and together they told them about their mother who had appeared from the Rip. It was a heart-wrenching story. Mary-Belle’s eyes filled with tears that she didn’t want to let fall in front of the others but the story and the expression on the sisters’ faces made it hard. She admired them even more now. Having to make such a decision wasn’t an easy weight to bear and then having to live with it.

Soon after everyone filled the others in on what they had experienced the groups dispersed. Mary-Belle took that as her cue. There was just one more thing she needed to do before she left them. She walked over to Leo and Beatrice, hesitant to interrupt their conversation but doing it anyways to get it over with. “Excuse me,” she butted in, “Leo, can I talk with you outside for a moment?” His gaze fluttered over to Beatrice who agreed silently before the both of them climbed out of the cellar and onto the street that had already gone back to some sort of normalcy. People were bustling around, going after their business, others were in charge of picking up the dead bodies and cleaning up after them.

They came to stop a short way away from the cellar when Mary-Belle turned to face him. “What are you going to do now, Leo? Are you going to return to the palace? What is your plan?”

“I… would like to stay here. These are my friends and I belong here, not in the palace,” he announced.

She nodded, a sad smile on her face. “I understand, but I’m certain the Queen will have people looking for you when she notices that you are missing. You can’t stay away from your responsibilities forever.”

He let out a desperate sigh. “I know, but… I want to enjoy this time for as long as I can.” She nodded and squeezed his arm briefly before she watched him descend into the cellar again to live this life for a bit longer.

She turned to walk away, home, back to a life so unlike the one Leo chose to live, but she didn’t get very far before she was stopped by a hand hesitantly reaching out to her. Jessica stood there. She quickly retrieved her arm after gaining Mary-Belle’s attention. “We were actually going to get fish and chips later. You, um, you should eat with us. After all, you’ve helped us.”

“I didn’t really do anything actually. I was probably just in the way most of the time, but thank you. You guys should enjoy your evening by yourselves.”

She wanted to walk away again, but Jessica spoke up once more to stop her. “That’s not true! If anything, you got Billy out of jail! The others told me. You didn’t have to do that. You barely know us, but you did! Please, I would really like it if you would eat with us.”

In the end, Jessica had convinced Mary-Belle and when they were all sitting together that evening eating fish and chips she felt content and happy. Looking around at their smiling and laughing faces she could understand how Leo found his family in this group of people.

She caught the expression on Billy’s face when Leo and Beatrice walked past him to get up to the street. It was a sour one, full of jealousy. So, she walked over and sat down next to him. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”, she noticed quietly, following their retreating figures with her eyes until they disappeared outside and closed the door behind them.

Billy’s head whipped around to eye her suspiciously. “What would you know about it?”, he asked.

“Well.” She let out a sigh. “I’m in love with him,” she revealed, “so, I guess we’re in the same boat.” The two of them shared a mutual understanding that the people they loved, loved them too, but not in the same way.

“Should we do something about it, then?”, Billy asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What are you thinking of?”, Mary-Belle asked with a smile, before Billy grabbed her face and pulled her close. His lips hovered over hers for a moment, enough time for her to pull away if she wanted too, and then he kissed her. A gasp sounded which pulled the two apart. As they looked over to the source of the sound, they found Spike staring at them, his hand dramatically on his chest which made them all laugh. Billy threw a chip at Spike to get him to stop with his antics. He had a carefree smile on his face again. Even as he looked over at Mary-Belle, which he used to do with such a dark gaze, it didn’t falter and maybe, she thought, she could find her place here as well.

#the irregulars #billy x oc #billy x female!oc #bea x leopold #unrequited love #leopold x female!oc #leopold x oc #angst #billy chisup #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot

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