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allisondraste · 5 years

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Temperance (36/42)

Pairing: Nathaniel Howe/ Female, Non-HoF Cousland

Story Summary: Nathaniel and Elissa were childhood friends, but time and distance tore them apart. In the aftermath of the Fifth Blight, and Ferelden’s Civil War, both Elissa and Nathaniel must attempt reconstruct their tattered lives. As a series of events lead them to be reunited, both are reminded of so many years ago when things were much simpler.

Chapter Summary: A visit to Amaranthine stirs up everyone's emotions, and Liss must weigh her own happiness against concern for others.

Author Note: The last flashback chapter from Liss' perspective has finally arrived. I'm particularly sad about saying goodbye to the Couslands, but did try to tie off any loose ends and end it on a *relatively* happy note. Nothing can be truly happy when we know what happens to the Couslands. Still, thank you all for your patience with update, and I hope you enjoy!!

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

[AO3 LINK]

Fereldan Countryside, 9:29 Dragon

The carriage ride from Highever to Amaranthine was long, the view from the window filled with an endless expanse of dull hills and grey skies that teased of rain that had yet to fall. It was an unusual journey, and one that Liss had made few times in her life, many before she was old enough to remember, none since Lady Eliane had fallen ill. In her mind, Vigil’s Keep was a ruin, torches burned out, cobwebs nestled in every dark, damp corner while ghosts of footsteps pattered down long empty halls. She did not imagine it to be the sort of place one would host festivities, and she certainly could not understand why Arl Howe had so suddenly and graciously offered to host a gathering for Summerday celebrations.

Liss had been unable to provide an appropriate excuse as to why she should remain at home, or at least nothing her parents believed to be suitable. A shame she could not have suddenly caught some highly contagious, yet nonlethal illness that would have kept her in bed for days. It was an even greater shame that she was a grown woman and she still had to do as her parents bade. She loved them, but resented their insistence that she paint on a pleasant face and make political appearances, to ignore the rumors that still spread about her throughout Ferelden, to pretend like she liked Rendon Howe for any reason whatsoever. There was no doubt that she was unfit for such a courtly lifestyle, that she’d been born into the wrong part of society.

“Darling,” her mother spoke up from the seat directly across from her, an unstated plea in her voice, “I know that it might be too much to ask, but perhaps you could try to make it through one party without entirely shattering the ego of every young man who happens to look at you.”

Without turning her gaze from the window, Liss replied numbly, “It would be easier were their egos not so fragile.”

“Elissa.”

“I tried at the last gathering. I really did,” Liss explained melodramatically, turning to face her parents. She smirked when she saw the laughter sparkling in her father’s eyes. “But I simply couldn’t pretend to find Lord Vaughan’s story about slaying a grand and majestic beast compelling.”

Her mother appeared to stifle a chuckle. “It sounded like quite the arduous trial. It is a wonder he survived.”

“It was a ram, Mother. Oren nearly hugged one to death last week, and he is tiny.”

“Pup,” Papa chimed in, seriousness in his voice that she could not quite place. “If you do not wish to be courted, if you never want to marry, your mother and I are not going to make you. We want you to be happy.”

“And to not embarrass your suitors in the process.”

Liss’ fists tightened around the fabric of her skirts, agitated. The only men she had embarrassed were those who thought it appropriate to speak to her as if she were a cut of meat or some delicate trophy to be placed upon a shelf. She’d insulted Vaughan because he made vile remarks about not only one, but several of the servants. Of course she’d refused to tell her parents about such things, and she was not certain if it was because she did not want to worry them or if it was because she did not trust them to view the situation in the same light she did. For all their wonderful qualities, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland were not without blind spots of their own.

“What will make me happy,” she bit back, words sharper than she would have liked, “Is for Arl Howe to leave me alone. Poor Thomas, too, for that matter. If that means I have to marry an empty suit of armor, then I will.”

“You know,” Mother said, shrugging, “Thomas would be an excellent match.”

“Yes,” Liss sighed, throwing her hands up,”Completely good and not at all awkward.”

“Why ever would it be awkward,” the other woman teased, smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

“Mother. Please.”

Her parents both sighed and exchanged knowing looks with one another before turning their gazes back to her, sympathy in their expressions making her skin crawl.

“You know, sweetheart, if you keep searching for Nathaniel in the faces of anyone else who dares get close to you, you will always be disappointed.” Mother leaned forward to place a hand on Liss’ and squeezed.

“I’ve told you a thousand times.” Liss shook her head and offered them a laugh she did not feel. “I’m over him. It was just a ridiculous adolescent infatuation.”

“Whatever you say, pup.” Papa smiled a small, sad smile and leaned back in his seat. “You’ll be lucky to find someone who loves you more than that young man.”

“He doesn’t love me,” she snapped again, hot tears burning in her eyes. “If he loved me, he would answer my letters.”

“If that is what you must believe, then believe it,” he said with a sigh, “But I do not think you are giving the boy enough credit.”

“Can we… stop talking about this,” Liss asked, leaning against the wall of the carriage, eyes drawn back to the window, “Please?”

Her parents exchanged skeptical glances and eyerolls before looking back at her and nodding in unison. She wished she had ridden with Fergus and his family after all. Oren’s million repetitions of “are we there yet,” and fussy complaints of being bored would be far preferable to the oppressive sympathy and understanding with which she currently contended.

Liss knew her mother and father not deserve her cold-shouldering and hostility, that they only worried for her and her happiness. They also knew Nate better than most, and a small part of them must have believed him to be Liss’ person. She had believed it for many years. Still, the longer she waited without a word from him, the more unlikely it seemed that he had the same opinion.

The remainder of the trip was quiet, but comfortable, her father occasionally breaking the silence to hum hsoftly or tell a joke in an attempt to pull Liss from her melancholy. It would have worked had she not been so stubborn. As they arrived in Amaranthine, to Vigil’s Keep, it was not as stark as Liss had envisioned. Large, stone walls encircled the fortress home of the Howe family as well as several small buildings that lined the walls of the battlements, most likely serving as houses for those who worked in the castle. Bright golden, bear-adorned banners hung from doors and decorated battlements and lively, happy people milled about excitedly, brought down only by the downpour of rain that began as the clouds broke open.

Howe guards ushered Liss and her family inside to the main hall. It was large, open, and lined with large wooden beams. Deep red carpeting ran the length of the room, from the entrance to the large pair of thrones at the front. A large brazier stood in the center of the room, unlit yet inviting all the same, and torches burned along the walls illuminating bookshelves and gorgeous portraits. Liss could scarcely imagine that such a lovely place could belong to someone as cold as Rendon Howe.

“Liss,” shouted a familiar voice, excitedly, pulling her from her thoughts, “I am so happy you were able to make it.”

Liss turned just in time to see Delilah embrace her, long, thin arms wrapping easily around her shoulders, before pulling away. It had been over a year since they had seen one another in person, and Liss’ chest tightened to look at the other woman. Delilah was tall, and had always been thin, but not so thin that she seemed as fragile as her embrace felt. Her bright blue eyes were sunken in and sat above dark circles. The smile she wore on her lips did not quite reach the rest of her face.

“Delilah,” Liss finally said, taking Delilah’s hands in her own and squeezing gently before letting go, “Are you—”

“Let me show you around,” Delilah interrupted the question, very deliberately, taking Liss’ arm and tilting her head toward the direction of one of the few doors in the room.

Liss followed Delilah, down the corridors, looking as she showed her the kitchens, dining hall, and several different wings. Ending with the Howe’s specific living area. She’d seemed nervous, frantic the entire time, and nothing like the even, happy girl Liss remembered.

“This is Father’s room, Thomas’, mine,”she explained. pointing at the various doors.

“Delilah.” Liss said her name gently, hoping the concern in her voice would warrant some explanation for the obvious anxiety.

Instead she continued the tour and pointed to the final door on the wing. “That one is Nate’s… or at least it was when he was—“

“Delilah.”Liss grabbed her arm, and she turned, tears sparkling in her eyes. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

Heaving a shaky sigh, the other woman whispered an answer. “Just before you all arrived, Father informed me that I’m… that he’s…” She trailed off, obviously struggling to speak the words.

“It’s okay,” Liss said, placing her hands on Delilah’s shoulders.

“It’s anything but okay,” Delilah stated sharply, sniffing between words, “I am to marry Vaughan Kendells. Father and Arl Urien came to some sort of agreement.”

“You can’t,” Liss said urgently, “Vaughan is—“

“Horrid? Vile? I know.” Delilah took a breath and composed herself, straightening her posture and meeting Liss’ gaze. “Unfortunately, I was not consulted on the matter.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Well, at least maybe now he’ll leave the servant girls alone.” Delilah laughed bitterly and shrugged out from under Liss’ touch. “Father tells me this is only the case because your father refuses to make you marry Thomas. He intends to obtain influence one way or another, I suppose.”

“My parents do not believe in arranging marriages,” Liss explained, pretending not to feel the sting of her friend’s words. Delilah wouldn’t blame her for this, would she?

“So this was your choice?”

“Yes.”

Delilah’s lips pressed into a thin line and she shook her head in disbelief. “Can you not get over yourself?”

The question pierced Liss’ chest as well as any arrow could, and she nearly released an audible gasp. “But I thought—“

“You thought what? That Nathaniel was going to come back at any moment?” She was speaking loud enough that her words echoed down the hallway. “You know, I tried to believe the same. I really did, but it’s been seven years, and he hasn’t said a word to any of us. He’s gone. He’s not coming back, and now I am to pay the price for everyone else’s selfishness.”

How frightened Delilah must have been to become so agitated, so uncharacteristically pointed. Liss didn’t want to cry, didn’t feel as if she had the right, but nevertheless the tears fell, and Delilah flinched. A worried knot formed between her brows and she reached out.

“Maker, Liss,” she said gently, “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have— that was completely unworthy of me.”

“No. I understand why you’re upset with me. It isn’t fair.”

“Nothing is fair,” muttered Delilah, smiling sadly, “But I shouldn’t take it out on one of the few friends I have. Please forgive me.”

“Of course.”

They embraced, and Delilah excused herself to clean up and make herself appear “presentable” again. Liss turned to walk back down the hallway, toward the main hall, hoping to regroup with her family before guests began to arrive. She couldn’t shake the uneasiness in her stomach that lingered from her friend’s words. Was it truly her fault that Delilah was being forced into a marriage with Vaughan? Wouldn’t Arl Howe certainly have made the arrangement regardless of Liss’ decision about Thomas? How many lives did that man intend on ruining to make himself happy?

Just as she neared the staircase that would take her down to the main area, a large portrait that hung on the wall caught her eye, and she moved closer to get a better look. It featured two, young, uniformed men. One had raven hair, blue eyes, and an icy expression. The other was only slightly shorter, with sandy brown hair and a wide smile. It was a portrait of her father and Arl Howe, painted when they were much younger, likely around her own age. She tilted her head and examined the young arl more closely. She had not seen Nate since he was just seventeen, but the resemblance was still striking.

“Ah,” remarked a voice behind Liss, causing her to jump and turn around. It was Rendon himself, and Liss’ stomach twisted back into knots. “Lady Elissa, there you are. Your parents have been looking for you.”

“Delilah was showing me around,” she stated politely, “It has been so long since we visited your home, I had forgotten how lovely it is.”

“You are too kind, my lady,” he replied with a smile that almost appeared genuine. Then he turned his gaze to the painting, smirk forming at the corners of his mouth. “I see you’ve found the one portrait for which your father ever convinced me to sit with him.”

“It is a beautiful piece, my lord.” Liss eyed him skeptically, but his expression was still sincere as he moved closer to examine the painting himself, hands behind his back.

“It was just after my wedding to Lady Eliane,” he explained, “Your parents were the only guests in attendance.”

Liss shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Our wedding was not long after the end of the Rebellion. Despite the fact that my brother’s choice to join the Rebellion turned the tide of the efforts to retake the throne, despite his death in service to King Maric, and despite my own injuries at the Battle of White River, many among the nobility still mistrusted the Howes. We were thought to be cowards and opportunists whose loyalties depended entirely upon who had the greatest odds of winning.”

“And those sentiments remained after the war had passed?”

“Yes.” The answer was abrupt, but Liss could hear the emotion behind the word. “Eliane’s family held that opinion more fiercely than anyone else, and especially regarding me.”

Unsure what to say, and desperate to be out of conversation with the man, Liss helplessly muttered, “I am sorry to bring up painful memories, my lord.”

As if he did not hear her remark, he sighed and continued. “Nathaniel was always so much like Leonas, always skeptical and questioning. My word never satisfied the boy.”

Liss’ chest tightened. Was this his aim, to taunt her with Nate again? “And so you sent him to Starkhaven as punishment?”

“I sent him to Starkhaven for his own good,” Arl Howe said through his teeth, true colors bleeding through the facade of geniality he’d been wearing just moments prior, “I am not the monster he would have you believe.”

“Arl Howe,” Liss stated as boldly as she could, “Nate didn’t talk about you. Not unless it was to explain why he had to pretend I did not exist for days.”

“I see.” He frowned, and stood silently for longer than Liss would have preferred. “You are still quite taken with him, aren’t you?”

“No,” she answered tersely, eyes welling up with hot, angry tears, but she held them back. “In fact, I’m not certain I could even still call him my friend.”

“Well, that is good news, indeed,” he said, still smirking, “You are a lovely young woman, Lady Elissa, and it would be a shame to see you wasted on that fool boy. I hope you reconsider your refusal to marry Thomas.”

Liss’ temper ignited immediately, but before she had the opportunity to snap at the arrogant man, to tell him where he could shove his arrangement, he nodded politely and left down the hallway, toward his quarters. It was alarming and uncomfortable, his last words repeating themselves in her mind, a silent “or else” attached to the end, a vague threat of nothing or anything. While she would have preferred anything to giving him what he wanted, she could not help but wonder if it might be better to appease him. Thomas was kind and gentle, and not similar enough to Nate in appearance or demeanor that it would be too uncomfortable. Would it be so terrible?

When Liss finally made her way back down to the throne room, several guests had already begun to arrive. A handful of lesser lords from the bannorn mingled about, talking quietly, almost drowned out entirely by the boisterous Guerrin family, Bann Teagan in particular making jokes and rubbing arms with Liss’ father. Arl Eamon stood some distance away with his lovely wife and son, speaking to Fergus and Orianna while the two little boys played. They all looked so happy, so contented with this way of life, with stroking one another’s egos and pretending that nothing could possibly ever go wrong.

Liss caught a glimpse of Lord Daerios, across the room, as well. He was surrounded by young women, daughters of other Banns no doubt. His eyes met hers and he winked, causing heat to rush to her cheeks. She smiled and waved, ignoring the pangs of regret that she had been unable to love him.

In the far corner of the room, sulking in the shadows stood the only person who seemed remotely as miserable as Liss was, a kindred spirit among the revelry. Thomas had once been such a cheerful boy, mischievous and fun. She had always wondered how he was even related Nate. However, in the years since his brother had left, Tom had struggled to live up to his father’s expectations for him, turning to the bottle to cope. She approached him somberly, and he nodded when he saw her, a sad, knowing smile on his lips.

“You look like you’ve spoken to Delilah. Or Father. Both, perhaps?”

“Both,” she answered, one persistent tear streaking it’s way down her face.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” Thomas said, patting his pockets until he found a handkerchief and pulled it out, extending it to her. “I’m horribly bad at comforting women.”

Liss took the handkerchief and laughed as he continued. “Come to think of it, I’m not very good at comforting anyone. I can’t even make myself feel better most of the time.”

“Sorry, Tom. I just—“

“Want to go for a walk, my lady?” Tom offered his arm to her. “We could go outside, maybe get some air.”

She tilted her head and laughed again. “But it’s raining.”

“Even better,” he said with a shrug, “It does seem to fit the current mood.”

“You have a point.” Liss smiled and looped her arm through his, and allowed him to lead her out the front door and into the courtyard. For a brief moment she wondered if anyone saw, worried what they might think. Then, she decided she didn’t care. Thomas was perhaps the only person in the world who knew exactly how she felt, who understood, and she refused to give a rat’s about how leaving another party with another man would look. It wasn’t like that with Tom anyway.

Outside, the rain fell with much more force than Liss had expected. It was less of a somber stroll in a drizzle, and more of a dash through a torrential downpour to reach the entrance to the battlements. They ran up the stairs and out to a covered area that looked over the courtyard. Water drenched her hair and clothes, making them heavy. A glance up at Thomas, and she saw water droplets fair from his dark brown curls. He chuckled, tousling his hair as if that would help the situation.

“Well then,” he remarked, staring out at the sky as if it had personally offended him, before sitting down and leaning his back against the parapet.

Liss sat down next to him, and returned his handkerchief, now thoroughly wet from the rain. “Think of it this way: We now have ample excuse not to go back inside.”

“Sorry I missed your ridiculously boring affair, Father, but Lady Elissa and I were lost at sea.” He waved his arms dramatically. “We had to swim for days!”

“I am certain that he would not be amused.”

“Well, no,” he admitted, smile fading, “But what else is new?”

Several quiet moments passed in which she did not know what to say. Thomas stared off into the space in front of him, scowl hardening his soft features. It was the first time she had ever really thought he resembled his brother. Unable to bear it any longer, Liss sighed and spoke. “You know, we could save ourselves and everyone the trouble, and just get married. It wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Yes, the perfect reason to get married: not awful.” He laughed and turned to face Liss. “Besides, I’m content with my father’s unhappiness.”

“What? It would only be on paper, and for formal occasions.” She laughed. “All the other times we could go on as if we were not married. “

“What about when we have to make an heir?” Thomas raised an eyebrow and heat rushed to her face as if she were suddenly modest.

“That’s one of those ‘cross the bridge when you get to it’ sorts of problems,” she replied, waving her hand dismissively.

“It is a bridge I would rather not have to cross,” he admitted, looking down at the floor beneath him.

“Am I that unappealing?”

“You are very beautiful, my lady. Strong, fun, intelligent.” He laughed and shook his head. “It made sense that Nate would like you, but… I don’t, not in that way at least. I’ve never liked any woman in that way.”

“Oh,” Liss muttered, feeling awful for putting him in such a position that he disclosed something so personal to her.

“I’ve not talked about it with anyone except Nate,” he explained, “And now you. Please don’t tell anyone. Not even Delilah.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Anyway,” Tom continued, finally bringing his eyes back up to meet hers, “What I am trying to say is that I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will not be allowed to freely be with whomever I want. Not while father still lives and breathes.”

“Then why not be with a friend, someone who understands?” Liss didn’t want to marry Thomas, now less than ever. Yet she hated the idea that he would be miserable.

“Because you should be with my brother,” he said, seriously, frowning. “You deserve to be with someone who loves you like he does at the very least.”

“Tom,” she argued, “Nate hasn’t spoken to me in years.”

“I know, Liss. He hasn’t spoken to me in years either.” His words were pointed, but not at her. “He’s a ridiculous, stubborn arse, and he’s going to regret that he ever thought he could pretend we don’t exist. That doesn’t make him any less my brother, and it doesn’t make him any less in love with you.”

“I —” She began to protest, but did not even know where to start, or if she even wanted to. She wanted to believe that Nathaniel cared about her, but that made everything more difficult. There were no easy answers if he still cared, no quick and easy solution to locking away her own feelings.

“I could probably have said that more gently, couldn’t I?” He smiled apologetically.

“Just a little,” she joked.

They sat up in the battlements until the rain slowed, and their clothing was dry enough that their return to the main hall would not cause a stir. The guests had all arrived, and music had begun to be played. Everyone danced happily. Even Delilah had cheered up as she twirled around with Fergus while Vaughan stood off to the side grimacing. Oriana watched, eyes glittering with amusement.

It was Oren who first noticed Liss’ return, grinning and flailing his arms excitedly as he ran to her. She scooped him up in her arms easily and embraced him. He wrapped his tiny arms around her neck, hands tangling up in her hair.

“Auntie Liss,” he said, words lilting up into a question.

“Yes?”

“Why are you all wet?” He leaned back, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“We were lost at sea,” Thomas chimed in, pinching Oren’s little nose playfully, “Your auntie here is the only reason we didn’t drown.”

“Thomas,” Liss scolded, but was unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

Oren’s eyes widened and he looked back to Liss, bringing his hands to her cheeks. “Is that true?”

“It’s completely true,” Thomas answered in her stead, “She even had to fight an enormous whale with her bare hands.”

“Tom,” Liss scolded again, words muffled by her cheeks being squished together.

“Oh wow,” Oren exclaimed, “You’re the bestest auntie ever.”

“And your the bestest nephew ever,” she answered, doing her best to hold back the blissful tears that welled in her eyes.

“Oren, let go of Elissa’s face, child,” Oriana said as she approached. She was both stern and gentle at the same time.

“Mama, Auntie Liss and Thomas got lost at sea and Auntie Liss got them back here by fighting a whale.”

Oriana raised her eyebrows and smiled, looking from Liss to Thomas. “Sounds like quite the adventure. Perhaps we can join next time, yes?”

“I love you, Liss,” Tom said, dryly, “But I am not getting lost at sea again for your family’s amusement. Now if you’ll excuse me, I intend to return to my corner to sulk.”

Liss and Oriana both laughed as Thomas walked away, grabbing a glass of wine from one of the servants before doing so. He’d be completely drunk within the hour, and Liss couldn’t say she blamed him. She turned her head back so that she could look at Oren, still gazing up at her in adoration.

“Hey Oren.”

“Hmm?”

“Want to dance with me?”

Oren grinned widely and wiggled down out of Liss’ arms, balancing himself before bowing and extending a hand to her as formally as a four year old could. Liss looked up at Oriana who beamed proudly.

“Well are you not just a proper gentleman,” Liss said, as she took his hand and walked him out onto the dance floor. They spun and laughed and twirled, completely ignoring the steps to the Remigold, or whatever other ridiculous dance the others performed. For the first time in years, Liss felt something she could only describe as contentment. Nothing was perfect. In fact, many things in her life, and in the lives of those around her, were the opposite of perfect. However, they all had one another, and maybe that would be enough.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #dragon age awakening #nathaniel howe #nathaniel howe x cousland #cousland #my writing #temperance #update

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shytalia · 4 years

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A Prince & A Pirate’s Fate - 16

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

Chapter Sixteen

Start at Chapter one here:https://shytalia.tumblr.com/post/611878754309079040/a-prince-and-a-pirates-fate-usuk-fanfic

Also available on my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shytalia

— ♠ — ♠ — ♠ —

Alfred awoke with a throbbing pain in his head.

“Ugh, what the fuck.” He groaned, holding his head as if it would make the pounding in it go away.

“Watch your language. I see Kirkland has left an unfortunate impact on you.”

Alfred jumped at the sound of another voice so close to him, his eyes widening and snapping in the direction of the intrusion. It was the current king, sitting calmly by his side. He stared at him gaping, unsure of exactly where he was or why his father was by his side as he slept. What he did know, however, was that Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

He was beaten to it before he could even open his mouth to ask.

“You disobeyed direct orders and have been visiting that pirate during the night, haven’t you?” There wasn’t much in the way of a question so much as it was just a statement. The king let out a rough huff of disapproval when his son didn’t answer. “As such, I have no choice but to relocate Kirkland to a more secure room. One you won’t be able to break into.”

He took a moment to look his son over. His young features were crinkled in irritation and he could see faint marks on his lower neck from previous private affairs, no doubt left by the captain himself. The image of his son stooping that low was unnerving.

“But upon reflecting your little escapades, I’ve deemed that a more proper punishment is in order. Kirkland will be relocated and put under the most maximum security, but he will no longer be allowed to do anything more than sit and wait.”

“What? What does that even mean?” Alfred growled, moving forward only to realize he himself couldn’t move either. With wide eyes his vision snapped to the side and saw his wrists chained to the bed he was on, allowing him to move only a very short distance. “Y-You can’t do this! Let me go!” He yelled.

“It is a necessity, you’ll see. You will be released on the night of the ball. I think a few days of solitude will prove to be a fitting punishment. No more running around the halls like a love sick puppy searching for its master.” The King muttered, taking the prince’s chin in his hand and twisting his head towards him. He matched the glare thrown at him. “Just so you understand me, son, allow me to be perfectly clear. You should relax and do as you are told. The more you struggle to understand what I’m doing is for the best then the more suffering you’ll bring your poor Arthur. Your actions will reflect his treatment. If you insist on acting out of line, his punishments will be all the worse because of you.”

For a moment hesitation flashed in Alfred’s eyes, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What punishments?” He asked, softer this time as if he were afraid of the answer.

“Anything I see fit. Because of your little adventures in the night, Arthur has already received ten lashings. You wouldn’t want him to get more, would you?” The elder man said easily.

Then, Alfred’s calm exterior was gone, replaced by a hot fury that threatened to eat him from the inside out. His chains rattled against his harsh movements as he attempted to free himself.

“What!” He practically screamed. “You whipped him? For what! He didn’t do anything, it was all me! He was stuck in that damn room day after day, I’m the one who kept visiting him even after he told me to stop!”

Despite his outburst, the king simply waved his hand as if brushing the offensive words out of the air. “It doesn’t really matter. Queen or not, he has to pay for everything he’s done in the past. He’s lucky I’ve been merciful, you know as well as I do that criminals like him do not often get anything less than a noose or permanent disfiguration. Would you prefer I do that?”

“No! I’d prefer if you treated him like my goddamn queen!”

At that, the King let out a small chuckle and stood up. “He will be treated like the queen once he acts like one and not a disgusting pirate. But don’t worry, it won’t take long, I will break him of his filthy habits soon enough.”

And despite the yelling from the younger royal and the screaming of his chains as he tore at him, rubbing the flesh beneath them raw until they bled, the king left his son alone again.

--- ♠ --- ♠ --- ♠ ---

The arrival of the other kingdom’s royals a few days later sent a wave of excitement throughout the entire capital.

Much like the impromptu parade signifying the arrival of Prince Alfred’s return home, carriages of varying colors carried new and foreign leaders towards the castle walls. Crowds clumped together on the streets for a chance to see a Heart, Diamond, or a Club wagon, each decorated as extravagantly as the last.

First came the Hearts, their red ribbons and heart-printed banners clashed brightly against the normal, Spadian blues. Most exciting was the young prince whose stoic face charmed all those he passed, offering them a polite wave but not much more. It didn’t seem to bother the crowd as they gorged themselves on his handsome features.

Next were the Clubs, a cold nation of ice and snow, but their green symbol was an ironic feature plastered for all to see. It was almost a mask, the clover of their nation a sign of luck and prosperity, even in the dead of winter. Despite this, people found themselves ogling the impressively tall, burly man with the gentle smile as he rode down the streets.

Lastly were the fashionably late Diamonds. Bright and warm, covered in gold and jewels, the King of Diamonds flashed his ringed hand enthusiastically to the people surrounding him. Women and men caught the kisses he drew from his mouth, blowing them into the crowd with fervor.

Overall, the arrival of the three foreign kingdoms was a cheerful success. Servants busied themselves making last minute preparations and ran around the castle like bees in a hive.

Alfred could hear the commotion from his room, finally released from his bounds he rubbed at the bruised skin of his wrists with a scowl. His father had never acted this tyrannically before, at least, not to Alfred. Had it always been there and he just hadn’t seen it?

He shook those thoughts away and pulled on his navy coat. It dragged down in the back and he couldn’t help but wonder what Arthur would be wearing. No doubt, they would dress him up like a doll in Spadian nationality and the Brit would loath every second of it. This is exactly what Arthur had been trying to avoid for so long and yet, here Alfred had made his worst nightmares come true.

He mentally cursed himself for it but a soft knock on his door banished those thoughts.

“Your highness, it is time.” A calm voice spoke through the wood. When Alfred opened it, he was greeted with the familiar face of the royal Jack.

“Yao,” Alfred recognized, doing his best to bite back his anger and his anxiety. He had to do this right, for Arthur’s sake. “Let’s get this over with.”

The walk to the ballroom was long and the sound of chattering people exploded to life the second they swung the grand doors open. There were nobles and ladies scattered around the hall, each decorated with elegance and riches. Some were already dancing and others were drinking, gossiping about petty affairs that made Alfred’s head hurt.

The Chinese man pushed him onward and towards a large, stage-like platform at the end of the room. It had chairs, in which already sat the current King and Queen as they watched the people buzz below them.

Alfred ignored any greetings he received as he walked through the crowd, not truly on purpose, but his mind swarmed with different scenarios that could go wrong at any moment.

He took his place in a chair, it was high up where he could see the entire room clearly. It was more often than not used for his parents and their more esteemed guests to lounge during parties such as this one. When they weren’t dancing around the ball room, they sat perched and watching like hawks to a bustle of prey.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Yao called after Alfred was seated, earning looks from all across the room. “I am proud to introduce our guests, who have traveled far to come and greet our new Queen and congratulate the young, Prince Alfred. So, without further ado, please welcome your majesties...”

The short man took a quick bow, pulling the doors of the ballroom open, and gestured for those outside it to come in. As he did, he dutifully introduced each one.

“Prince Ludwig, of the Hearts. King Ivan, of the Clubs. And King Francis, of the Diamonds. Welcome to The Spades.” Yao bowed to them once more.

The three took in their surroundings, obviously sizing up the room, its decor, and its occupants. At once, three pairs of eyes set sharply on the three, Spadian royals sitting on the other side of the room.

King Ivan was the first to speak. “Ah, it is nice to meet you, your highnesses.” He gave a small bow of his own, but even his crouched stature was far taller than anyone else in the room. “However, I am not seeing the newly found queen. I was told we would get the chance to meet him and I was looking forward to it quite a bit.” Something sparkled in his lavender eyes that made Alfred want to hurl, or punch him in the face, whichever came first.

The creepy Club did have a point, however. Where was Arthur? This ball was supposed to be a celebration of him coming to the castle, surely his parents weren’t going to leave him locked up throughout the entire thing!

As if on cue, the door creaked open once more and each curious face glanced to it. Standing with guards at his sides was Arthur, dressed in the finest clothing Alfred had ever seen him in. His blue eyes widened slightly, watching carefully as his betrothed strut into the room looking nothing less like complete, Spadian royalty.

“Arthur!” Alfred jumped up. As much as he told himself he would behave, the sight of Arthur finally out and free of chains made his heart beat erratically. The only thing that brought him back down to earth was his father’s cough and a harsh grip on his wrist, preventing him from jumping off the stage and towards the other blonde across the hall. Looking back, his eyes met the cold, warning glare of the elder royal and he swallowed.

Relaxing and standing up straight, he stared ahead at the man he adored so much just to find him looking right back up at him. There was something swimming there in those wide, green orbs that Alfred couldn’t quite place and it worried him to no end. So, without thinking, he grinned widely and outstretched his arms to address the room loudly.

“Welcome! Now that everyone is here, let’s get to dancing!” He bounced off the platform in a single leap, landing on the hard floor below and practically racing towards the petite, shaggy-haired man with open arms. “What do you say, Arthur? Can I have this dance with my future queen?”

Arthur’s eyes widened in disbelief, unsure if Alfred was trying to get them in trouble again or not. But, here in front of so many people, what could his father really do? So, he smiled and nodded, reaching out and allowing his hand to be taken.

“Of course.”

Within an instant, he was pulled close against a warm chest and an arm snaked around his waist, drawing him ever nearer.

“Good.” Alfred breathed, softer now that he had Arthur so close against him. He pulled the shorter man towards the middle of the room, ignoring the people that shifted to get out of their way, and immediately started twirling their bodies together to the music that flowed gently through the air. “I missed you.” He whispered.

Arthur only made a small sound of agreement, but his stiff limbs relaxed the longer Alfred held him close. He did his best to ignore the obvious eyes that were boring into them, even if they were being discrete, Arthur knew better than to think they weren’t at the forefront of everyone’s gaze.

“I’m sorry...for what happened. You didn’t deserve that.”

Green shot up and met blue. Arthur wavered at the look of sincerity and regret that twisted the younger man’s sweet face. It wasn’t a look that fit Alfred, he was meant for smiles and laughter, not worry or anger. The Brit shook his head and offered a small smile.

“Don’t worry. It’s far from the worst thing I’ve ever endured.” He assured.

His response only seemed to make Alfred’s brows furrow further together and his frown deepen.

“That’s not the point. I don’t want them to hurt you.” The prince voiced, removing his hand from Arthur’s in favor of pulling down at the other man’s sleeve. He could see the darkness of bruises lingering there from his binds, much like he had on his own, but Arthur’s looked even worse. Not only that, those familiar metal, bracelets encircled his pale wrists. It seemed even during a ball his father couldn’t trust Arthur not to kill him. For once since he returned, he thought the king actually got something right. “I promised you that I’d be your hero.”

“I don’t expect you to keep all your promises.”

As much as he wished he didn’t, Arthur couldn’t shake that feeling of betrayal he had when he realized Alfred was the man he had spent years loathing. No amount of sweet words and gifts would change that overwhelming ache in his chest at being lied to for so long.

Alfred frowned more at that but didn’t press the issue. He knew he had a lot to prove to Arthur and he wouldn’t stop until he made everything up to him and then some. But for now, he was content to have his lover close and to twirl him around the room to the sound of music.

Several dances later, Arthur opted to take a small break and convinced the young prince to grab a drink instead of just showering him in open affection. Alfred had pouted but agreed, running off to find the nearest butler with a glass of wine.

“It is nice to meet you, your highness.”

Arthur nearly jumped out of his own skin when a low voice ghosted past his ear. He turned to find a very tall, very intimidating man looming over him with a gentle grin. He nearly looked like he could pick him up and break him in half over his knee if he wanted. Arthur sincerely hoped he didn’t try.

“Hm? Did I say something wrong? You’re looking at me as if you’ve seen a ghost.” The large man’s face morphed into something of a pout, if one could truly call it that.

“O-Oh, no, my apologies. I didn’t hear you come up.” Arthur dismissed quickly, taking a small step back. He may be a pirate with incredible magical abilities and a talent for weapons, but at the moment, he had neither of those things. It didn’t help that he had gotten quite the thorough instructions from the king before being dressed for this horrendous dance that if he were to act out of line, his brother would not go unpunished. Thus, he had to play nice.

His explanation must have been enough for the tall man because he smiled again and nodded. “I did not mean to scare you.” He told him, accent thick on his tongue. “I am King Ivan, from the Club’s Kingdom. I would be honored if I could have a dance with the future Queen of Spades.”

He held out a large hand and Arthur hesitated to take it. He wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to be manhandled by a very powerful stranger, but he didn’t have much reason to refuse either.

“Of course...” The Brit muttered, slowly lifting his own hand and placing it in the much bigger one. Without a moment to reconsider, Ivan pulled his smaller body close and was turning around in time with the music. Arthur barely had enough time to register what was happening as he was shoved, almost surprisingly snug, against the smothering body.

“I’ve come to meet you, Queen Arthur. I wanted to see you for my own eyes, it’s been quite a few years since we first heard about you. We weren’t sure you would ever actually come take your place.” Ivan talked casually, spinning Arthur around in circles as he did so, arm firmly planted against his lower back to keep him secure.

“Yes, well, I didn’t think I would either.” The pirate replied, almost bitterly as he spared a glance towards the platform the current monarchs sat on. He could see the King’s icy stare even from where he was moving in the middle of the dance floor.

“We Clubs have been watching these silly Spades run around trying to catch you for so long, it was most amusing. I’m almost sad the fun is now over.” The Russian sighed, his conversation moving as if Arthur hadn’t spoken at all.

What a particularly odd thing to say to the next queen of said kingdom.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow and looked up at the man who held him, taking in his childish frown of disappointment now that his apparent ‘fun’ was over.

“But, I get the feeling a new game is going to begin soon and it is exciting to finally meet the most interesting player. You’re not like the rest of these stuffy Spades.” Ivan’s smile once more tugged around the edges and, to Arthur, it almost resembled more of a smirk. He felt the hands around him tighten, as if drawing him closer to tell him a well-kept secret.

“I do believe most of the other people here are not murders and thieves.” Arthur replied easily. He may be put off by the other male, but he was not one to back down because of a little intimidation. He had his pride and he would keep it, as much as he could in this damned place anyway.

“I’m not so sure. But, perhaps your brand of depravity is a little bit different than theirs. That doesn’t mean there are not some similarities in the ruthlessness.” Ivan offered after a bark of laughter. He seemed genuinely pleased with Arthur’s answer. “Oh, but your dear prince...he’s not like the rest either, is he? Just look at him now, he’s glaring at me as if I’m about to rip your throat out. That is funny, da?”

Arthur ignored the low chuckle that emanated from the bigger man and twisted his head enough so he could see past his large arms. Sure enough, there was Alfred, two wine glasses in his hands and narrow eyes. He didn’t look jealous so much as he looked purely predatory.

“I think he and I will become very close friends. That would be great, yes?” Another deep laugh fluttered out of the Club’s chest, but something in Arthur told him that ‘friends’ was not exactly the right word to describe the thoughts Ivan was having at that moment.

“Of course. It would be lovely to have a good relationship between the Spades and the Clubs. I look forward to it.” The Brit announced, a tad too loud, but he felt the need to get out of the man’s grasp as quickly as possible. “Please, excuse me. I believe the prince has retrieved our drinks.”

Slowly, Ivan pulled back his arms and released the shorter man with a content smile.

“Thank you for the dance, your majesty. You are very fun.” He said.

Arthur gave a short bow, “And to you as well, King Ivan.” He told him, before turning on his heel and speeding off towards Alfred. Taking one of the beverages offered, he brought it to his lips and wasted no time drinking it down.

“What did he say?” Alfred asked lowly, cold eyes still hovering on the tall form retreating off the dance floor.

“King Ivan? Not much. Just that he thought our little game of cat and mouse had been rather amusing for him.” Arthur mumbled. It seemed he underestimated some of these other lands. He was a wanted man in each kingdom, including Clubs, and yet the King was content in watching them for his own amusement instead of trying to capture him for his crimes. “I believe he rather liked seeing you upset as we danced.”

Alfred’s gaze was still narrowed when blue eyes turned to him instead, softening immediately when they finally landed on Arthur’s gently, smiling face. Slowly, the prince brought his free hand up and ran his fingers across his lover’s cheek and cupped his face. “Of course I was upset. How am I supposed to feel with someone else holding you like that?” He asked, but his voice was somewhat amused. “More so, I don’t entirely trust him. Ivan isn’t exactly known for his good intentions.”

“Ohoho, gossiping already?”

The pair turned at once, finding a smug looking Francis standing not far behind them.

“It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, soon-to-be Queen Arthur.” The Diamond royal grinned, reaching out and grabbing the Brit’s hand. Without a moment of hesitation, he bent down in a bow and placed kisses upon the back of the pirate’s hand. He failed to notice the look of disgust that crossed the pale man’s face as he did so. “You’re far more lovely in person, might I say.”

“I appreciate the thought.” Arthur muttered, pulling his hand away and instead wrapped it around one of Alfred’s arms.

The Diamond stood tall again, his eyes scanning over the pair for a moment, before another grin plastered his face. “I must congratulate you two. This has been a long time coming, and we have all been patiently waiting for your arrival. We were all shocked to hear that the Prince of Spades had gone missing. It had been so long that we all began to assume the worst. But, it is fortunate that you were in safe hands the entire time after all, hm?”

The blonde king held a strange look on his face that Arthur did not like very much. He looked like he knew something but was holding back, whatever it was.

“It is very fortunate. I was lucky to be under Arthur’s care.” Alfred spoke up, his gaze unwavering as he stared at the other man with a silent dare to question him.

“Ah, as I said. Safe hands.” The Diamond chuckled, lifting a glass of wine he plucked from a waiter’s tray and raising it to the couple before him. “Not many of us marked find happiness with their chosen half. It is a game of wars and lying that we play, there is not much room left over for love between the likes of us.”

That was true. Most kings and queens did not care for one another, tolerant of the other more often than not and friends at the best of times. If he remembered correctly, the Prince of Hearts found his to-be queen more of a platonic companion than anything. And while that was fine for him, it wasn’t what Alfred wanted for himself. It had been a true fear of Alfred's entire life. He wanted an actual relationship with his betrothed, not just a political one.

He had found that with Arthur.

“But,” The young king began again before either of them could reply. “It is nice when it happens. I wish you two the best of luck, you are a rare exception indeed.”

Francis smiled from behind his glass before taking his leave, walking towards a group of well dressed noblewomen with flirtation on his lips.

“Diamonds always were strange.” Arthur muttered, twisting his body so he was standing in front of the taller man now.

“You would think it was the Hearts that were so sappy.” Alfred offered, earning him a small chuckle from the shorter male as he wrapped his wine-free arm around his slight waist. Their bodies pressed together without hesitation.

“Do you believe what he says?” The Brit murmured softly, his lips grazing the soft skin of the other’s neck. “About us?”

“You mean that we are a rare exception? I mean, yeah...kind of. We are, aren’t we?” Came the prince’s soft reply, pressing his own lips into that pale hair. “I love you, more than anything. I can feel it in every part of me. Every time I look at you, I am overwhelmed with just how much I adore you.”

He grinned a cheesy smile against the other’s scalp, feeling the way the smaller body warmed up against him.

“So you say.” Arthur replied after a moment, pulling his face away and looking up at his betrothed with a questioning look.

Alfred just laughed, the sound ringing out into the space around them and lighting up the room in an instant. Several people turned and looked, only to be greeted by the sight of their prince staring warmly down at the man before him.

“It’s true, and I’ll keep telling you every day if I have to. I really do love you, sweetheart.” He grinned down at him knowingly, easily picking up on the light dusting of pink that tinted his queen’s face.

Arthur looked to the side, feigning interest in the dancers on the floor spinning in circles, as he sipped his wine.

“I could do for another dance.” The pirate said quietly, but that was all that was needed since they were pressed so intimately close.

“Whatever you want, honey. I’ll give you anything in the world.” The royal laughed again, softer this time, before he finished off his glass and beckoned a butler over to relieve them of the cups. With that out of the way, his newly freed hand intertwined with the slender fingers of Arthur’s as he pulled him back towards the dance floor.

Once more, eyes were on them.

It was almost normal now, all things considered. How each curious glance pointed their way, laced with fake acceptance. Arthur was beginning to almost revel in the disapproving stares.

Let them look.

Let them see how he was twirled around and dipped, kissed mercilessly upon his cheeks and neck as laughter fluttered from his chest.

Let them see how Alfred looked at him, and only him, proving the golden boy of The Spade’s Kingdom was all his.

Let them watch as their arms tightened as they grew closer and whispered together like young kids sneaking out together into the night.

It was scandalous. It was exciting. It was everything Arthur yearned for.

They twirled their way around the dance floor until the ball began to disperse, guests filing out slowly but surely as the night grew later. Some guests lingered, drinking one too many glasses of wine or attempting to coerce a fellow partier to be their bed mate for the evening.

Alfred and Arthur, however, stayed pressed close. The closer they got to the inevitable end of the ball, the sooner they would be separated. If they just danced a little more, drank and laughed just a bit longer, maybe the party would go on.

“I don’t want them to take you.” The prince whispered against his queen’s lips, his large hands enveloping his pale face on either side. “When I think of you all alone, chained up…gods I want to kill them.”

Arthur leaned his head slightly into one of the hands planted gently on the sides of his face, closing his eyes for a moment just to enjoy the feeling. “Who?” He asked quietly.

“Anyone who hurts you.”

A small chuckle rumbled out of the Brit and he opened his eyes again. Green blinked up to meet blue, silent for a few moments until a third voice broke the peace.

“Your Majesty and your Grace.” Blinking and looking to their side, both blondes were shocked to find the Prince of Hearts standing near them. “I wanted to introduce myself to the future queen, as I did not have the chance earlier. I am Ludwig, I hope we have a good relationship in the future between our countries.” He stated and it sounded so rehearsed it almost hurt to listen to. Still, he sounded sincere, in his own way.

“Oh hey, Lud. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. It’s been what? A couple years or more, at least?” Alfred chimed, a sunny grin growing on his features. “How have you been?”

For a moment, the stern look on the pale, blonde’s face softened a bit. “I have been well, thank you, Alfred. I am glad to see you back home safe and with your future queen. Things have not been easy for you, I know.”

The two continued to talk remarkably casually for two rival kingdom heirs, but Arthur hardly listened to a word they said. Instead, his gaze was hard and unyielding as he kept it on the young Heart.

It took a while for either of the two taller males to take notice of the odd silence, but when Alfred prompted for Arthur’s input on a funny joke he had just made and received no answer, he glanced down to find his lover stiff and peering darkly.

“Artie? Baby? What’s wrong?” Alfred asked, tightening an arm around his waist to pull the lithe body closer.

Still no answer, but now Ludwig’s attention was focused on the other man whose look was unwavering towards him. There was an unreadable expression in his eyes that Ludwig had been trained all his life to avoid.

“Your Grace,” Ludwig started slowly, eyes watching carefully. “Is something the matter?”

There was no reply for a moment, just blues on green, until Arthur opened his mouth without moving anything else.

“How could you?” His voice was surprisingly soft, a mere whisper between his lips. But his eyes hardened deeper and his face contorted into an angry sneer.

“What?” Ludwig blinked, confused.

Alfred’s arm tightened again, protective in its brace as he leaned slightly forward and towards the smaller man to look him in the face. “Huh? Artie doll, I think you’re confused. What do you think Lud did? He just got here.”

His concern was lost upon deaf ears, however.

“How could you?” He repeated, twisting his way out of Alfred’s arms so he could storm the short distance to the foreign leader with malice clearly written on his features. He only stopped when he was right in his face, scowling at him. He threw his hands in the air as if his question were obvious. “Just because of what he is! He is still your brother!” He yelled, shocking everyone left in the ballroom, including Alfred and Ludwig.

“My brother? What do you know of my brother?” The Heart Prince reached out and latched roughly onto Arthur’s upper arms, gripping him in such a vice it caused him to twist slightly to ease the pain. “If you know something then tell me!”

“Ludwig, let him go!” Alfred was by them in an instant, pushing between two colliding planets as he pulled them apart. He pried the foreigner’s hands off of his fiance and sandwiched himself between them, glaring daggers at the other man. “Hands off, Lud.” He growled, the warning clear in his voice.

By now, the commotion had stirred up the curiosity in the room. Every face was turned towards them, some excited to see the events take place between such high ranking individuals, others afraid for the aftermath of what could come from such an ordeal.

Not that they cared, the only eyes that mattered were the narrowed ones of the king as he stood up from his seat.

“Guards.” He spoke gruffly, motioning towards the three. “Seize the future queen and take him back to his room. Everyone else, out.” He ordered, watching as the armored men moved across the hall to do just that. The remaining guests did not need to be told twice and were bustling to get out of the room and away from the scene.

“Wait! It was just a misunderstanding, we can talk this through.” Alfred bellowed, instantly circling around to pull Arthur against his chest to shield him from the oncoming soldiers. “I’m not letting you take him there again, he doesn’t deserve it!”

He missed the confused and worried expression that crossed Ludwig’s face at that. What did that mean? More importantly, what had Arthur meant?

“Now, now, son. We’ve been through this.” The King said, his voice feigned innocence, but the venom dripped from each syllable. “I have been through this with your…beloved as well. He knows the consequences of his actions. It is such a shame, causing a ruckus in front of a crowd like that? What will your poor brother think knowing you caused him so much pain for something so trivial?”

Without hesitation, Arthur stiffened in Alfred’s arms. He had forgotten....how could he have forgotten? He let himself slip, he had told himself he wouldn't make a mistake. That he could do this right, for his brother! But his tongue was too ready to slice through egos and his hands too poised to strangle stuck up throats. He had let Peter down.

“Please, please, no, I’m sorry.” The Brit’s knees felt weak and he might have fallen down and begged for forgiveness, had Alfred not been holding him up so tightly. “Please, I can be better. I will be better. Just don’t hurt him!”

The arms around him pulled him ever closer and a warm breath fell onto his neck. He could hear the prince’s nervous breathing against the shell of his ear. His pleading must be hard for him to listen to.

“My, it’s too late for that, isn't it? You were told what would happen and yet you still acted out of line.” The elder royal’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “Escort both the future queen and the prince to their rooms using any means necessary. Take Prince Ludwig back to the guest quarters, ensure he is treated with the utmost respect.”

With that, the guards advanced once more, but this time there were more than even Alfred could fight off alone. Arthur hung loosely, visibly devastated, in one arm as the other fought uselessly to keep the numbers off them.

The pirate hadn’t even put up a fight. Why should he? He would only make things worse for his brother if he did. He allowed the guards to drag him away, listening numbly to Alfred’s shouts growing dimmer and dimmer as they were forced apart once more.

#my writing #its a whole thing #shit is messed up #aph america #america #aph england #england #aph germany #germany #aph france #france #aph russia #russia #fanfic #fanfiction #hetalia #aph #usuk #cardverse

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jimiyoong · 6 years

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anon submitted: Hello Doris, I’m writing this as a submission because it would probably result in several asks, and we all know Tumblr likes to eat them sometimes. This is a little rant about how the merchandise lines were organized. I do NOT blame BTS or BigHit for this, but the Mercedes-Benz Arena and its poor attempt to “make sure everyone is safe” — as well as their utter ignorance about how k-pop concerts work and their lack of informing themselves about it prior. • My concert was on the 17th, so my friend and I decided to get merch already on the 16th for the sake of having a more relaxed concert day. We’ve arrived around 2am at the venue, took pictures with/of the huge BTS banner and then walked around where Hobi took a couple of pics. Around 3am we went back to see if anyone arrived and some fans approached us to tell us where they started to line up, as we weren’t allowed to be at the venue. All fine and good, I’ve met some amazing fans there, we talked, waited, listened to music and at some point started with numbering in order to honor the fact that some people waited so long. Around 6/6:30am we were told that we’re allowed to line up in front of the barriers things — for merch and the express booth. We had a decent line organized, everyone was happy with it, no one pushed and people kept on getting numbers. Around 7am we were then suddenly told to “get rid of the line and leave the area”, which we did but no one of the securities could give us a clear answer on where or when we could line up. So we kept on trying to make lines around the area, because it would obviously be dangerous if a mob of 400/500 people runs all at once to the merch booth at 9am (that’s when they opened the barriers line up). However for some reason security kept on telling us they’ll call the police if we don’t stop lining up, if we don’t leave. Several different girls tried several times to tell them how incredibly dangerous it’ll be to keep all these people in a crowd instead of a line, but security didn’t give a shit at all. So what happened at the end? People who decided not to sleep and wait since 2am in the morning to get merchandise got pushed further back (don’t get me wrong, I still got merch and all, but it’s still unbelievable to me that this wasn’t considered even for a second) and some people who arrived around 8am were suddenly in the front. It was pure chaos and those of us who had been there for hours were exhausted, cold, hungry and just overall disappointed in how unorganized all of this was. I hope they’ll do things differently next time, but somehow I doubt it. The only positive experience I’ve got out of all this was that I’ve met some incredibly nice and talented fans. • I’m sorry for the long text, but this has been bothering me pretty much since the 16th. Thank you for everything you do and please have a nice day!

Hello~ Oh wow, I didn’t know that happened with merch line. The truth is, their organization was a little messy. They were literally changing info every 5 minutes and numbering was also a mess on 15th. I mean, it was organized to a certain level but it was still messy. They tried. And hopefully they’ll do better next time, because now they saw what they need to do. I was actually there at 7 something am on 16th and I saw the long line for merch but I really didn’t know that happened. I was standing in a line for express booth and that line was shorter of course and there were no problems. But I gave up on getting the merch since that line was soo long and I was so done with waiting.;; Don’t worry about the long text and I’m sorry you had to go trough that mess. :/ But I’m glad you managed to get some merch and have some fun with other fans.😄

#anon #replies #submission

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page-of-tales · 6 years

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Story: Peace After War

2K words. Time skip and conclusion

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War is easy, peace is hard. And peace after war is hardest of all.

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The end of the Second Jollan Federation War brought uncertain times. The war had started after an Federation force attempted to extradite a war criminal, Sovereign Prince Avakor for crimes in the Striated Ridge, and had been forcefully repulsed. By the end of the conflict the Federation were looking to capture several dozen more individuals. The Princes had conscripted large swathes of their own population to grind against the human war machine. Plunging their own planets into chaos as they escalated further onto the stage of war. Thousands died, and millions starved. By the end of the war many planets were devastated. All semblance of order lost.

The conflict had only ended when the Federation had captured the Jollan homeworld, Jol. Seizing the war faction leader Sovereign Prince Avakor in a speedy raid. With the head of the Chorda war faction in custody the Bidae peace faction took power. Peace negotiations soon began signaling the end of hostilities. The successive government struggled to contain growing chaos in their own ranks, becoming all too willing to let the Federation take the burden of responsibility and dictate their actions. The Federation immediately initiated reconstruction efforts.

A year after the conflict’s end a mandatory review of ongoing reconstruction efforts was initiated. As part of this examination, interviews of randomly selected Jollans were included for reference.

[A singular Jollan alien looks into the camera lens. After a moment it turns to greet an individual entering out of view. The camera is jostled slightly and takes a second to refocus. The alien is now looking at between both the camera and the interviewer.]

“Should I look at you or the camera.”

It speaks English, with just a slight accent. More emphasis on certain vowels, and with a tone that doesn’t convey a question.

“You can look at whatever you are comfortable with.”

The interviewer replies. The Jollan relaxes ever so slightly, deciding to focus on the interviewer. After a sound of shuffling papers the interviewer continues.

“Please state your name for the record.”

“I am called Hindor.”

“Can you please describe your life in the Jollan Principalities, before the war?”

“Before the war I was a line worker at the freighter factory. No family, no lands. Just my job, and my drinking buddies. When the conflict began most of us simply ignored the news. We didn’t realize our Prince had thrown in his lot with the Chorda.”

The Jollan paused before the interviewer made a gesture to continue.

“I was conscripted during the second week of the war, after the Battle of Hukol. Our planet was home to the largest starship yard in the Jollan Principalities. That was why the Federation went there first.”

Again Hindor paused.

“I was stationed to guard a fortification overlooking the city. We were bombarded from afar and in the chaos I took the opportunity to run. I hid for a few days in the fields watching the Federation charge and seize the city and the yards. It was pretty clear we didn’t stand a chance. Soon after that my rations ran out and I had to return. I ran into one of the Federation patrols outside the city. I still had my weapon with me but I hadn’t even fired a shot. I just turned myself in when the Federation came up to me. My weapon was taken away and I was brought to where the Federation were staging all the other prisoners they had captured.”

“I and some 3,000 others were captured in that fight.”

[Note: Jollan conscripts were poor in equipment and morale. Mass capture of entire battalions was not uncommon.]

“So you were a prisoner of war? What was your treatment like?”

“They gave us a medical examination and then interrogated us briefly. Name, rank, identification was all they asked for. They separated the (close match: political officers) and conscripts. They sent the (political officers) off for special consideration. They put the rest of us in a holding camp. There was quite a large amount of fear, rumors spread by the prisoners. Many feared the Federation would exterminate us. If it was a Jollan Prince who had captured us we could expect to be eradicated for opposing them, why would the Federation have been any different?”

Hindor chuckled, a low whistle escaping his mouth.

“Lucky for us the Federation was different.”

“We spent only a day in the holding camp before they brought in the transports. We could watch from behind the fences as they would offload the Federation soldiers before loading up on prisoners. There was a panic, people were now convinced the Federation would jettison all of us into space as a method to get rid of us. Some of the prisoners rioted, desperate to escape. We were quickly subdued by a sonic weapon they turned on us. Even then the panic only calmed when they brought fellow Jollans who had been on the journey to come speak to us.”

“The ships were crowded but everyone had a place to sleep. It was my first time in space. To my disappointment there were no windows and I could only tell we were moving by the vibration of the floor. We journeyed for several days. At one point we were transferred to another ship and then to another. Soon after we arrived at our destination. We had landed on a strange alien world. I would later learn we were in the Striated Ridge. We were marched and joined with several thousand others to a prisoner camp. A camp which they had fabricated right on the planet. We were all assembled and given a welcome by a Federation officer. He described our condition, our rights, and set out rules. It was incredibly unreal.”

[Note: Jollan conscripts were considered a low threat risk and imprisoned in accordance with the Sol Conventions (The Sol Conventions are Federation treatise describing guidelines for the treatment of prisoners of war. An update from the Geneva convention and similar treaties.) Conscript prisons were constructed in the Striated Ridge as a means of securing them away from the conflict and to ease the process of managing them. The so-called POW planet had several abnormally large POW camps constructed in order to facilitate the massive numbers captured.]

“There was bedding, food, and shelter. Once we assured we weren’t going to be exterminated it became rather boring. That didn’t last”

“The Federation said that any who would work would be paid. The wages they offered were meager but the work they offered was easy. Many of us took them up on that offer if only to stave off boredom. They set the majority of us to working the planet’s farmland. It became apparent that the foodstuffs we were growing were suitable for Jollan diets. An oddity or perhaps an error by the Federation.”

[Note: Jollan POW were tasked with sustaining agriculture in preparation for the upcoming reconstruction and food shortages.]

“No one wanted to fight anymore, and most of us didn’t even consider escaping. The entire planet was deserted except for us prisoners and our guards. The only times prisoners disappeared was because they got lost returning from the fields. They were never lost for very long though. The Federation had these specially bred animals which would find anyone. Think they were called doges.”

The interviewer interrupted Hindor. Attempting to bring him back to the topic.

“How would you describe your treatment as a prisoner? Were you mistreated or otherwise harmed?”

“What? No… There was this one thing maybe you can explain it to me. There was a new camp being constructed and most of the prisoners there were living under tarps. I accidently walked into the guards section because the dividing fence wasn’t complete. I noticed that the guards were also living in tents as well. I couldn’t help but notice that this mirror image persisted when I looked at my own encampment and the guards there. It was rather strange.”

The interviewer took a moment to consider the question.

“In line with the Sol Conventions the living quarters of prisoners are kept to the same standards as their guards. If prisoners had to sleep in tents while their quarters were constructed, so did their guards.”

[Note: See Sol Convention Article 9 and 10]

“Ah is that so? That’s rather strange..

Deciding to move on the interviewer presses forward.

“Can you describe the end of the war?”

Hindor took a moment to recollect his thoughts.

“It took a few months before the Federation won. We learned of the news when they did their routine morning roll call. They announced the war was over and we were to be freed. I think they expected us to cheer, but many of us were unsure what our fates would be. I half expected them to open the gates and leave us alone on that planet. But the Federation had more surprises in wait.”

“We were again processed. Camp by camp, building by building. Possessions seized during capture were returned except for weapons. The wages we had earned were paid in full and transferrable to Jollan currency. We were given a list of locations that we could return to. I chose to return to my home planet. Within a week I was back on that familiar soil. But the war had devastated the planet. Our Prince had set the entirety of his people against the Federation, and they had paid the price dearly. The Prince himself had disappeared, hunted by the Federation for what they called war crimes. My planet had been abandoned, and the (close match: jackals) came to ravage the scraps. I almost missed prison.”

“It was the Federation who saved us.”

“My planet was one of the few not to fall into complete chaos. Held together by the occupying Federation who cracked down on the growing banditry. They also began delivering food and medical supplies for the people and rebuilding infrastructure damaged in the war. But they could not be everywhere, so they called upon us. This time when I took up a weapon it was under a Prince’s banner but the Federation’s banner, and I did so voluntarily.”

[Note: The Federation military had only operated on 12 planets. However the Prince’s drove their people to the brink in fueling their military machines. Many planets cracked and by the end of the war a total of 48 planets were categorically in a state of complete anarchy. Volunteers from the Jollan population were recruited to assist in restoring order.See Sol Conventions Article 13]

“Is that where you learned English?”

The Jollan shook his head.

“I learned back in the camp. They held classes on a variety of subjects. There were also movies they would show, human films. I chose to study.”

Hindor took a moment to retrace his thoughts.

“We set off from the planet, and this time there was a window for me to watch. We journeyed around the Principalities. We restored order, doing the same as we had done on my planet. Repairing the damage of the war, feeding the hungry, tending the sick, upholding justice. It worked, the black markets vanished as the food shortages ended. The bandits melted away as security increased. A new normality was forming.”

“What are your thoughts on the Federation now?”

“We owe them everything, I owe them more than most.”

There was a momentary pause as that statement hung in the air. Hindor looked a little embarrassed at himself.

---------

With the topics covered the interview was over. The interviewer made a couple notes on the file tags before getting ready to leave. The Jollan spoke up, seemingly emboldened.

“I’ve answered your questions, can you answer another of mine?”

The interviewer took their hand off the camera.

“I will try.”

“You mentioned the Sol Conventions. Why do you have them?”

The interviewer took a moment to consider the question.

“To preserve lives I suppose.”

The interviewer left the room, leaving the Jollan still sitting there with a stunned expression.

#hfy #story #writing #sci fi

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foxofthedesert · 6 years

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OGA: Ch2

Chapter 1 – Flames on the Horizon

From her seat at the head of a massive oaken table, Queen Regina smolders with tentatively restrained fury. She sweeps her eyes over the room, taking in a dozen familiar faces, all pinched with discomfort.

In a futile attempt to calm herself, she breathes slowly through her nostrils then averts her gaze to the banner draped across the far wall bearing her family crest. Once it was the black and silver of her father's house, a rearing stallion bearing a sword wielding cavalier. Five years ago she abandoned that link to a lineage she has as little use for as her fellow members do for her. Xavier's spawn hold her father in contempt to this day for allowing Cora's poison to spread unchecked through the kingdom, having banished him after his conniving wife took her schemes too far. Regina, naturally, was caught in the crossfire. She has not been welcome in her paternal ancestral lands since she was seven winters of age. The estrangement did not prevent her from shamelessly using her father's coat of arms as an additional means to solidify her hold on power after Leopold was treated to his just desserts. When marrying Red presented her an opportunity to finally erase the bitterness of being disowned by her royal grandfather and many uncles by founding a kindred all her own, she leapt at it. Together, she and Red designed a new coat of arms – upon a pitch sable background, a crimson crescent moon hung over a sprawling apple tree. A most fitting emblem for their new house, she thinks.

The walls of the council room, a sprawling stone-constructed space large enough to host a party of forty with ease, is decorated by twelve such crested banners. Each represents one of the houses belonging to the Council of Nobles, one of few carryover cabinets Regina did not disband upon assuming power. The council has diligently and wisely advised the monarchs of Misthaven for more than five hundred years, and she had seen no reason to hastily eliminate a body comprised of highly influential individuals that would only help her maintain control of her realm so long as she exerted the right amount of leverage over them. Since attaining and retained leverage is one of her specialties, they have been kept in check and thus served her well over the years. Mostly. And when they have failed in that, such as today, she does not hesitate to remind them of their place.

Other than the banners, the chamber boasts a row of thin rectangular windows set into shallow alcoves against the outer wall. All six are taller than they are broad with matching panes divided by exquisitely engraved brass. Pure, unfiltered light streams in through the clear glass, the crimson and black curtains tied off by thick golden cords. Were it night, the numerous gold-plated sconces containing fat beeswax candles would provide illumination along with the polished brass candelabras tucked into each corner of the room which feature inverted conical cups whose tops are fashioned in the shape of a many-bladed diadem.

The grand table at the center of the space, also rectangular in shape, is so thick and dense that it could likely survive a ceiling collapse. Spanning three quarters of the chamber, it dominates the area and provides ample room for councilors to spread out notation parchments along with various reports, ledgers, and reference tomes. Regina commissioned it a year after taking the throne, having disliked the old table, a perfect square that projected an equality between the nobility and the Crown she was unwilling to abide as her doddering former husband had. So enormous and heavy was the magnificent piece of furniture that it had to be brought in unassembled then painstakingly reconstructed and reinforced on site, which rendered the chambers unusable for a week. Encompassing the whole width and length of the midsection is the centerpiece, a master artwork fashioned by the most skilled jeweler in Misthaven. Formerly it was a giant onyx carving detailed with silver displaying the stallion and cavalier capped with transparent crystal. It was installed to provide a gleaming focal point punctuating the realm's extravagant wealth and did that job admirably for many years, stunning a plethora of dignitaries and royals from abroad. Having it replaced by another onyx carving with ruby representations of the new family coat of arms and similarly sealed with crystal cost a pretty penny. But the cost was worth it if only for Red's reaction upon getting her first glimpse of the finished product.

If only the memory of that moment was enough to curtail the steep spiral of frustration Regina is currently descending.

The dozen men and women assembled around the gargantuan table are currently holding her hostage, further fraying an already anorexic tether with each passing second. Their scheduled business was supposed to have concluded with the unanimous passage of security measures to bolster defenses near the border with Drakkenhall, where they are by far the weakest. Misthaven has a longstanding affiliation with that nation that she renewed upon usurping the throne, so there has been no need to reinforce the region until recently. Alarming rumblings have surfaced that a number of villages in Stefan's realm located close to Misthaven have been attacked by some unknown assailant. Excessive caution being far preferable to unanticipated disaster, she thought it wise to cover her bases in arranging reinforcements in the region. The council readily agreed.

To that end, she assured them that she would dispatch General Mulan to inspect the relevant outposts and would bestow upon the General whatever latitude, including the redistribution of troops from elsewhere, was necessary to shore them up. There is no one she trusts more to perform this task. That the council shares that opinion shows how adept Mulan is at her job. Since she was promoted to Chief Military Commander, she has greatly streamlined the deployment capacity of the realm's forces and has by all accounts doubled their combat effectiveness. The army has never been in as good a shape as it currently is. There is little doubt in her mind that under Mulan's capable leadership, the southern corps – previously left largely ignored at Regina's insistence, a potentially catastrophic mistake in hindsight – will be operating at peak efficiency in no time.

The reason for her poor mood has nothing to do with the potentially dangerous state of the southern region and everything to do with having looked forward to retiring early for once. With Red having decided to delay until tomorrow her plans to visit Waldeck, the densely populated town located around the base of the mountain the Dark Palace was built upon, they were supposed to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening together. This past month has been busy for both by any standard of comparison, leaving them with little in the way of interaction outside of an unsatisfying few minutes before retiring to catch up on a shared lack of sleep. With that being the case, she is of a mind they are both long due a recreational allowance to spend as a couple.

Sadly, it isn't to be. As if sensing her anticipation at the many pleasurable activities she could potentially indulge in with her wife late this afternoon and evening, the Council decided to it was an appropriate moment to test her faltering patience. Her mood sours even further as the spokesperson chosen to broach whatever topic they felt could not wait until next week stands and haughtily clears her throat.

"My Queen, please forgive my boldness, but there is one last matter we must discuss before convening," Lady Tremaine says, tone conveying as much criticism as possible without subverting the respect her sovereign is due.

Regina has long fostered a hearty disdain for Tremaine, and being chosen as the mouthpiece for what is bound to be bad news is doing the shrewish woman no favors. Nonetheless, Regina waves her permission to continue, which Tremaine immediately seizes upon.

"I mean no disrespect in informing you that the Council is in agreement on the longstanding concern of the kingdom lacking a legitimate heir. We must insist that you provide one with all due haste. Too long now we have mediated on your behalf with our fellow Lords and Ladies without providing them the assurances they require to continue their longstanding, incredibly generous support for the Crown. Two days ago via official written form, they unanimously demanded results from us on this issue. As sympathetic to your unique situation as are all within these chambers, we can no longer stem the tide of unease. If something is not done promptly, those with the means and influence to do so will surely intervene and seek their own solution."

With each condescending phrase, Regina feels her blood pressure elevate. "What you mean to say," she sneers, "is that the brazen demand is meant for me alone and that if I don't cow to them, they will commit treason and go behind my back to procure an heir favorable to them. Only they lacked the spine to face me directly." Rising, she leans over the table imperiously, hands splayed out over the finely polished surface of a furniture piece that weighs as much as a small horse. "Well, you can tell those yellow-bellied, blue-blooded bastards I won't stand for it. If they really feel so strongly, perhaps they should level those threats in person tomorrow morning. Rest assured, I will answer them with extreme relish!"

Though she has not spoken to the Council so harshly in many months, she is impressed by her ability to contain a seething rage that threatens her carefully constructed self-control. She had wanted to do so much more than verbally rail against them, even though this situation is not wholly their fault. They are merely the messengers of a faction of powerful nobles who simply refuse to let this exhausted topic die. Honestly, she should have slaughtered them all for their insolence years ago.

The last time she was confronted about her lack of a viable heir, she and Red had been together for barely more than a year. Although her life was sweeter than it had ever been, she began growing ever more irritated about the increasingly conspicuous looks of disapproval from the Council. As the body of representatives that maintained equilibrium between the Crown and the nobility that underpinned her political authority, it was imperative she at least lend a perfunctory ear service to their concerns. As much power as she wielded, they served a purpose she couldn't afford to overtly undermine.

Also, she knew without needing a formal declaration the reason for their intermittent censures. She wasn't getting any younger, and without an heir the future stability of the kingdom was in increasingly serious jeopardy. Added to that, she had taken a woman as her partner. With natural procreation eliminated as an option, her advisers began to murmur in discontent at what must have seemed to them a potentially dismal future. That disquiet was a symptom of an underlying illness among the entire upper class, noble and gentry alike, which left untreated would eventually fester into borderline rebellion. Which is precisely what is happening right now because she was, at the time, unwilling to confront it with her typical finality.

One day during an otherwise routine meeting, the Council confronted her directly. To the last member, they insisted she should take a husband to sire an heir – they hadn't known at the time that she was barren, not that it would have mattered as insistent as they were. It was for the good of the kingdom, they argued, with Snow in permanent exile and Regina otherwise childless. They even had the gall to suggest that she could keep Red as a lover on the side if she so wished after the farce of a wedding. Just so long as she put the welfare of the realm above her own personal desires, they didn't care what 'seedy activities' occurred behind closed doors. Enraged past the point of logical response, she disbanded the Council for an entire month on the spot and then issued an insistence of her own that if anyone dared to denigrate her relationship with Red in such a way ever again, they would be roasted on a spit in the square as an example. She had wanted to do so much more but held back out of respect for Red's more sensitive scruples.

The threat worked insofar as it put an end to the open sedition, though Regina knew it would not stop the nobles' discontent. However irate she was at them for daring to pose such a disgusting solution to the glaring problem of her lack of a suitable heir, their worries were legitimate if viewed from an objective lens. The power of the nobility depends upon the favor of the monarchy, a monarchy whose succession was by no means secure. So long as she remains childless, their futures are uncertain. Uncertainty breeds anxiety. Anxiety produces paranoia. Paranoia begets recklessness, which if left unchecked usually erupts into violence. It is a vicious progression the kingdom cannot afford to reach its natural conclusion. Thus the nobles' implied threat. Regicide is not off the table for those whose vested interest lies in the continued stability of the realm. It has happened before, many times. History books are littered with examples of kings and queens whose refusal to play the game pushed the nobility to the limit and then paid the ultimate price for their obstinance.

The problem was not that she was, or is to date, wholly indifferent to their restlessness so much as she felt such conviction about the subject that she could honestly say she prefers death to the alternative. However desperate the kingdom is for an heir, she will be no one's broodmare. That she is incapable of becoming pregnant and that there are possible fixes for her self-inflicted infertility is beside the point. She will never, ever betray Red and had assumed that sentiment was reciprocated.

To her immense shock, upon being informed of the council's suggestion later that night, Red actually agreed with them. To a degree, anyway.

"The kingdom does need an heir," Red said sorrowfully, plucking absently at her skirts as they sat at the emptied dinner table. Regina had waited to broach the subject until they had eaten, believing the ensuing discussion would likely ruin both of their appetites. Sadly, as usual she was correct. Her stomach curled into a knot at Red's next statements. "They're not wrong about that. The nobles need to know their future isn't insecure and so does everyone else. For that reason alone, their point isn't unreasonable. Before you go telling them a second time where they can shove their suggestion, you should give it some serious thought. And besides, you not having an heir negatively impacts the entire kingdom. I'm not worth sacrificing the welfare of so many innocent people over."

"You are sure as hell are to me," Regina insisted, perturbed that Red was defending the absurdity in the first place. She didn't care a lick that the kingdom would undoubtedly be plunged into chaos should something happen to her before she could somehow produce an heir. "Don't you realize by now that nothing else is more important to me than you? The crown, the sniveling nobles incessantly pandering for my favor, the unwashed masses I've no practical use for...they are meaningless in comparison."

"That's not true," Red passionately countered. "You care, you just won't – or can't – admit it. How many times have I seen you intervene on behalf of the helpless? When there is a famine and people are starving in some remote corner of the realm, you send grain and corn from the castle's surplus reserves. You have lightened the tax load on the common folk, transferring much to those who can more ably bear it. Real justice is being dealt now. Corruption is being weeded out everywhere. The people's voices are being heard again. You are becoming a champion of the disenfranchised, and it pains me that you can't see how far you've come. Your people are learning to love you, and I know you love them, too. You can deny that until you're blue in the face and I won't stop believing it."

Regina had sighed and stood to briefly turn away from her wife's insistent gaze. "Even if that were accurate, and I'm not saying that it is, to keep the throne and concede to these absurd demands would mean losing you." When Red began to protest, Regina hushed her with a raised finger. "I know you think you could bear sharing me, but I assure you sooner or later the strain would break you just as surely as it would break me. I would just as soon relinquish the throne and keep you than the opposite. My feud with Snow is no longer my primary reason for living, so I've no need anymore of the power and reach the crown affords me. You make me happy, which is all I've ever really wanted. I won't give that up just to appease a flock of gluttonous, honking geese who've been fed too much for too long by my apparently excessive generosity."

"I'm glad I make you so happy," Red said. Rising herself, she sidled up behind Regina and slid her arms around her waist. She then pulled Regina back flush with her body so that she could rest her chin on her shoulder. "I'm also glad you've stopped hunting Snow. And while I agree the council needs to be put in their place on some issues, I think you're wrong about not needing the throne. You do, just not for yourself. The people need you."

When Regina scoffed and tried to extricate herself, Red pulled her back and fixed her with a stern gaze over her shoulder. "You don't believe me, huh? Well answer me this: who would replace you should you abdicate? What would happen to the kingdom under the care of someone bound to be made of lesser stuff than you? In my unsolicited opinion, things would go back to the way they were where the poor had no voice and no power and were used and abused on a daily basis by nobles and rich merchants who only care about furthering their own agendas. You're changing things here, slowly but surely making them better so that this kingdom exists not just to serve the wealthy but all of its citizens. So as much as I hate to agree with the council on this, they are right that you have to do something. This is my home and these are my people, too, and I love them. I want what's best for them, and that is you being their Queen. For that reason alone, you should listen to what they are trying to tell you."

Shaking her head in the negative, Regina swiveled in Red's arms and grasped her lover's face between gentle yet unyielding hands. Her face stern, she said, "Absolutely not. I will not allow anyone in my bed except you. Should the need for an heir prove urgent, we can discuss other means such as adopting, but I won't entertain any further debate on the matter of me marrying anyone else. You are mine and I am yours. End of discussion."

The definitive nature of her assertion concluded the argument for the time being. Red enjoys many liberties with her no one else did, but she also knows when it is unwise to press her luck. That was one such occasion. Two weeks after, Regina proposed marriage to seal the deal, forever ending any further schemes of the nobility to import a pliable husband of station for their unwed Queen.

That decision garnered a fair share of opposition, even from her most trusted advisers, who could see only the negative ramifications of a triply taboo union. Not only was their Queen slumming so low as to crown a peasant, but she was doing so strictly for love and that with a member of her own sex. The outrage lasted well beyond the wedding, which took place less than a year later. Some of it has yet to die down to this day.

For the most part the nobles came around, if not due to Regina's sincere threats than to how competent a co-ruler Red proved herself to be. All the same, the rumblings over the lack of a suitable heir are beginning to grow audible again, which indicate she is facing a potential crisis lest she address the unrest with all due haste. The nobles have shown remarkable restraint in failing to confront her head on, but they won't wait forever for her to solve the problem at her leisure. There is simply too much power and wealth riding on its successful resolution. If she continues to drag her feet, they will more than likely attempt to resolve it for her, resulting in a lot of unnecessary drama. Perhaps they may even foster a spark of rebellion she cannot afford to quash with a heavy hand as she would have in the past. The Dark Days, which has become the preferred appellative for her reign of terror as the Evil Queen, of her ruling primarily through fear and violence are over. She's shown everyone her soft underbelly, now she's reaping the bitter harvest.

That said, as Red pointed out so many years ago, the expectation for her to provide an heir is not unreasonable. However annoying and unfair, it is her duty as sovereign not only to secure the kingdom's present prosperity but to do so without sacrificing its future. As much as she'd like to maintain the current situation indefinitely, doing so is no longer feasible.

Deny it as she might, she is not getting any younger, nor is Red, though no one can tell Red has aged a day in the seven years they've been together. Regina is not so lucky as to escaped the ravages of time. The subtle hint of crow's feet around her eyes and the plodding escalation of fragility in her joints offers irrefutable evidence that she is a woman frightfully close to cresting over to the wrong side of the hill. The time for raising a family is about to pass her by and everyone – especially the nobles – is painfully aware of that undeniable fact.

On a positive note, now that she and Red have settled nicely into their marriage, the concept of adoption no longer seems all that impractical. Their little family is rock solid. The trust they have built day-by-day is only surpassed by the soaring heights of their mutual devotion. No one knows her like Red does and Red can say the same. Their relationship has usurped the maniacal drive for vengeance as the foundation of her very being. It is unshakable and strong and able to weather just about any storm life can throw at it. Adding to it a feeble, needy, greedy human being who doesn't understand the concept of privacy or quiet will not break them. Will a baby hamper them in other areas? Undoubtedly, but she is confident they can handle any hurdles that come along with becoming parents.

The only barrier remaining is Regina herself. Unfortunately, that is a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. There are less minutes in a day than reasons she is not fit to be a mother. Not that the Council should be made privy to those well founded insecurities.

"There is no need for such dramatic measures to be taken," Tremaine says, ignorant of Regina's internal dilemma. "I am positive granting a few minor favors, perhaps extra tax allowances for the year or budgetary increases to relevant districts, along with a simple declaration of your intent to expeditiously resolve the crisis will suffice to allay their fears."

Regina's eyes narrow dangerously. Is the woman seriously trying to blackmail me? In the middle of a Council session? Has she lost her mind? Perhaps, she muses to answer her own rhetorical, little Drizella is leeching more than just milk from her mother's breast as she feeds. The thought of Tremaine losing invaluable brain cells with every wanton suckle of her infant daughter is so amusing she almost cracks a smile. Almost.

"Have you, like your dissident fellows, forgotten who wears the crown, Tremaine?" she asks aloud voice as sharp as her glare as she leans intimidatingly in Tremaine's direction. Tremaine visibly pales. Good, Regina thinks, that conniving hussy needs to be reminded of her place. "Do not presume you have the subtlety or the intelligence to manipulate me. Like me, you won your title with what lies beneath your skirts as much as with a willingness to bloody your own hands. But that is as far as our similarities go. Trifle with me at your own peril. I've outmaneuvered far more brilliant minds than yours. I should also remind you of the warning I issued the last time this subject was referred to me. My opinion on the matter remains unchanged, as do my promises to punish those disrespectful enough to suggest I peddle my wife's dignity for the sake of insuring their purses stay as fat as their bellies."

That was essentially what they were attempting to strong arm her into doing, and though they will never openly admit to it, their aim is the same at present. In royal circles, anything short of natural reproduction is regarded as a last ditch emergency resort to securing the viability of the next generation. As the council has, since the first confrontation concerning this subject, been made aware that she cannot conceive, their focus has shifted. Now they have their sights set on Red, who is in the flower of her youth and whose reproductive anatomy is fully functional. None of the craven members present today possess the spine to state their wishes directly, but it is an unspoken certitude that they would much prefer for her to pick a suitable nobleman that would pass muster and then allow him to impregnate Red. Seeing as Red is a werewolf, she is nearly guaranteed to be of robust fertility and even more so during Wolf's Time. Thus in all likelihood it would only take one encounter to bear fruit.

Logically, it makes a certain perverse sort of sense to permit this travesty, but that does not mean it is ever going to happen. Whether or not Red would be willing to make such a repugnant sacrifice is irrelevant when Regina is not. No, if she is to assure the future of her line, it will be adoption or nothing at all.

Upon registering the Queen's threat, Tremaine returns to her seat without another word as if afraid her legs can no longer hold her up. Regina's victorious grin tragically does not last more than a few seconds.

"With respect, Majesty, Lady Tremaine's suggestion is not wholly without merit," Lord Villeneuve-Beaumont pipes up. A man of some heft, he was an incredibly wealthy merchant who purchased his Lordship by defeating the Ogres during the most recent in an age old series of wars. That he gave up his only child to the Dark One in the process only made the deed all the more impressive, or reprehensible depending on one's point of view. Regina is ambivalent toward him personally, though she has always respected his opinion. Their interests often align, particularly since Red befriended his gobliniphilic daughter. "You know if I agree with the good Lady, it is only out of extreme necessity." This is true. Lord Maurice dislikes Lady Tremaine almost as much as she does, which is why she does not immediately eviscerate him for coming to Tremaine's defense. "The nobility is concerned, deeply so, and I fear if the line of succession is not guaranteed soon, they will have cause to escalate their dissatisfaction. Your Majesty has many enemies of the surrounding kingdoms. They will not have any trouble finding allies with which to conspire."

Regina fixes him with an ugly sneer that does not perturb him a bit. "Let them commit treason if they dare. I'll crush them like the pathetic ants they are!"

"I have no doubt Your Majesty could do precisely that. But what would be left when an accounting is made after that reckoning?" Maurice counters calmly. "We here count ourselves fortunate to be in your good graces, but that attitude does not extend to the majority of our fellows outside this council. As Your Majesty well knows, the nobility is, in general, populated by snakes in the grass. They may betray you with a bite as soon as leave you be, but they do serve a purpose in keeping the vermin at bay."

Aside from his disgust for the common folk being unbecoming a man whose status proximity was much closer to them, he has a point. The nobility plays a critical role in maintaining the stability of the realm's social order. Without them, law and order would break down. Taxes would quickly dry up. Soldiers would soon go unpaid. Factions would soon form and divisiveness exponentially increase. What then? Civil war, that's what. The opinion of the ordinary citizen where the Crown is concerned may have improved dramatically these past seven years, but even their vastly superior numbers could not protect Regina from a violent uprising of the upper classes. Make no mistake, she would send multitudes to the grave before they subdued her, but her magic and skill with the blade are not without limitations. She would be either dead or exiled before any organized resistance could form that might save her.

Worse yet, in the least acceptable scenario involving her assassination Red would likely be captured and kept alive to be sold as chattel for whatever brute the nobles import to sit upon the throne. Regina being betrayed to her death is one thing. Red being condemned to a fate she knows firsthand to be worse than death is another altogether. If she were still unattached, she would have already dealt with this head on, and viciously, but she is not and thus cannot. There is someone she loves more than herself now. Red's safety and happiness is preeminent over her own, which means she is going to have to make concessions, and that galls her to the ragged edges of nausea.

"You're right," she says with a forlorn sigh, collapsing into her chair. "I...I am aware something must be done. I know it seems otherwise, but I am not insensitive to the concerns of the nobility. I have put this off too long and have only myself to blame for being cornered. I should not have put my discomfort over the good of the kingdom. That said, I require more time to come up with a solution that works for both me and my wife. They have waited this long; they can wait another year. I would appreciate if you would confer my decision to them, Lord Maurice, along with this message: my concession is not without conditions. If I so much as suspect they are plotting behind my back again or if I hear a solitary whisper regarding their unspoken but evident desire to turn my wife into a broodmare, I will descend upon them with a wrath that Zeus himself cannot equal."

"I make no promises, but I'll see what I can do," Lord Maurice says, actually showing the sympathy Tremaine had claimed the other members of the council felt for her dilemma. Unlike the rest of the lot, he understands what it's like to actually be in love with a spouse. As a merchant, he was afforded the luxury of marrying for love instead of having settled for a politically beneficial arrangement as virtually all the other nobles did. It's a pity his wife passed away before his ascension. From her infrequent encounters with Belle and the glorified maid's scant descriptions, Regina thinks she would have liked the lovely Lady Colette a great deal. "Perhaps," Maurice adds delicately, "I could make more headway if I had a solemn oath that you will make a decision within that time frame."

Regina nods, all of her energy having drained out of her. It was not easy to admit her responsibility in this boondoggle. "You have it. In front of these witnesses, I swear by the power vested in me by my crown. Calm the waters for me and within a year's time I will produce a viable heir."

At her declaration, the entire council breathes a sigh of relief. Lord Maurice, having taken charge, gives her an encouraging smile. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will relay the news promptly and inform you as to the response."

She gestures aimlessly at the councilors downwind from her. She is fed up with their presence and wants to be left alone. "Very well. If there is nothing else, you are all dismissed until next week."

Lord Maurice gestures to the rest of the council, who stand and then bow in unison with him before filtering out of the chambers. Once she the last member exits and closes the door behind them, Regina stuffs a fist into her mouth and screams with all of her might. Can't they just let me be happy? Will my efforts never be good enough?

It's just like when she was a child. Everything she did her mother criticized. She clamps her eyes shut against the haughty derision from years gone by ringing in her head.

"Stop slouching, child. You weren't raised to behave like an ogre!" is followed by, "That's the wrong fork for an entrée, young lady. Leave the table at once and go to your room. You can do without dinner tonight." Next she hears, "Are you trying to set a record for most mispronunciations in a minute? This tome is of basic difficulty! I simply don't understand where I went wrong with you. Perhaps we should restart your education at the alphabet." And finally, "Must I tell you a thousand times? You always lower your head and then slightly bend it forward before dipping into a curtsy. Honestly, how am I to ever present you in court? You're an embarrassment to me, your father, and the rest of our house!"

Like with her mother, she's grown tired of having more and more and more demanded of her by people who should frankly be groveling at her feet for the privilege of drawing another breath. Were they unaware that she could snuff them all out in their sleep with a snap of her fingers? Have they so soon forgotten who she used to be? Sometimes she thinks they have, and that makes her want to break out her old wardrobe to go along with a convenient reappearance of her malevolent streak. If she's being honest, the chances of that happening have increased exponentially over the last ten minutes. If the nobles possess any sense of self-preservation, they will accept the peace offering from Lord Maurice and be grateful she has agreed to put up with their nonsense another year rather than deal with them as the Evil Queen would have.

Now, if only she can figure out why she has lost her edge in the first place. Regina heaves out a forlorn, weary sigh. Her mother was right. Love has made her weak. Presently, however, she has no time for self-recrimination. There are urgent matters she must attend to.

#ouat fanfiction #red queen #regina x ruby #it's not always good to the be the queen...

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mayquita · 7 years

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Call Me (19/30) Emma’s Decision

A new chapter is here! Again, I apologize for the delay in the update, but in my defense, I've been busy with the cslb thing, and it's a super long chapter, the longest thing I've written so far. And also one of my favorites, so I hope you like it too. As always, thank you very much to my beta @ladyciaramiggles for her amazing job, to my savior angel, @saraswans and to @suwya who made the banner as a birthday gift

And all my gratitude to all of you for your patience and support :)

Summary: Emma loses her phone after a chase, but she finds a phone in a cafe just when she needs it most. Killian forgets his phone in a cafe when he is about to take a flight to Ireland. Killian makes a call to his own number hoping someone answers on the other end of the line. What will happen when Emma answers the call?

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12Chapter 13 Chapter14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18

FF.net Ao3

Saturday, June 17, 2017

I'm bored, Jones, distract me.

Don't tell me you've gone on that stake-out in the end.

I found a clue I had to follow.

It's Saturday in the middle of the day, not ideal conditions for being stealthy? Let's just say your vehicle is a bit striking.

I have my resources. But while I wait, I'm bored.

Music? Junk food?

Both covered.

I’d love to help you, but both David and Liam are glaring at me.

Oh, sorry, I forgot that you had a soccer and beers afternoon. Have fun! Say hello to them from me.

Be careful, love.

Killian locked the phone's screen and left the device on the coffee table. Although he felt the inquisitive glances of both David and his brother through the screen, he ignored them and instead took a swig of his beer.

"Can we continue with the game or do you think there will be more interruptions?" Although David's voice sounded a bit like a reproach, the funny look he was exchanging with Liam said otherwise. He suppressed the desire to roll his eyes and simply nodded.

This was another of his traditions back in Boston. Whenever he had Saturday afternoon off, he and David had a video call with Liam to watch some football game. It didn't matter if there was no competition on that date, they had a collection of memorable matches kept on external hard drives, both in Killian's apartment and in Liam's house. Such was the case today. They had decided to watch the Champions League Final from last year. However, not even five minutes had passed when David had to stop the player when Killian's phone began to buzz insistently. Once David and Liam had synchronized the recorders, and now that the conversation with Emma was over, the excited voice of the sports commentator resounded in his living room again.

His gaze was focused on the television screen. His mind, though, had other plans of his own and it decided to ramble on, bringing back memories of the previous day, when he first visited Emma's apartment.

The development of the events of the previous night had been unexpected, especially considering the rollercoaster of emotions that he experienced in a short space of time. From his confession about the world map, which left his wound exposed once again, to the indescribable feeling that meant holding Emma asleep in his arms.

That feeling lingered a day later, the slight tingling each time he remembered the feel of her arms around his neck, or the vanilla scent of her shampoo that had pierced his nostrils and settled into his brain, like a continuous reminder of her golden hair. The fact that today he would have to settle only with texts and with their daily call did nothing to mitigate his need for her. Bloody hell.

Killian shook his head slightly, in an attempt to stop the escalation of thoughts and feelings towards Emma. Instead, he did his best to keep his attention on the television screen. He got it. For the next hour and a half, he managed to focus only on the game and on the camaraderie shared with his friend and his brother. It was a fun thing, that despite the distance, the Jones brothers could still experience these moments together.

"How are things going since your return? How about Emma?" Liam wasted no time in asking as soon as the referee gave the final whistle. Killian suppressed the urge to raise his eyes to the ceiling, since his brother had asked him the same questions every day since he and Emma decided to make the deal.

"Fine, everything's fine, just like yesterday." He said simply. Although that was not true at all. Every day his feelings for Emma grew, but his brother did not need to know, not at least for now.

"What do you think David? You are my eyes there." Liam insisted, not caring that Killian was also present in the room. It was a little irritating, to put it mildly, the behavior that Liam sometimes had towards him. He understood, really, but that instinct of protection towards him sometimes became too overwhelming. He was not a child to be cared for.

"I like Emma, she's been a breath of fresh air, really." David was being honest, both he and Mary Margaret had already told him that several times. His friend continued speaking after giving him a sideways glance, as if asking permission. "In addition, Mary Margaret has taken her under her wings, and she's going to drag her into one of her endless shopping sessions next Monday."

I hope that doesn't leave her scarred for life and decides to end the deal ahead of time . The words half sarcasm half sincerity burned the tip of his tongue. What is wrong with me today? His family and friends were just trying to help and he was behaving in an ungrateful manner not usual in him. Fortunately, his sister-in-law popped up on the screen, and prevented him from saying anything he could regret.

Elsa was holding a sleeping baby Brian in her arms. "Hi guys, I guess by your chat that the game is over, right?"

"We are perceptive today, aren't we?" Liam teased his wife getting an eye roll in return.

"Oh shut up! And now that the guys' evening is over, it's your turn to take care of our children." As she spoke, she passed Brian to her husband. "By the way, I'll never understand how you do not get bored of seeing the same games over and over, where's the emotion?"

"I have to remind you that you've watched Titanic like a million times, sis?"

"And still she cries every time Jack dies." Liam added, allying himself with his brother, while David chuckled silently at his side.

"Oh please, that's not even comparable." Elsa replied with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I already know that Mary Margaret thinks like me but I wonder what Emma would think about it.”

"Are we going to turn this into a sexist conversation or what, sis?" Although Killian gave a slightly reproachful tone to his voice, Elsa had managed to catch his interest regarding Emma's supposed choice.

"Now I want to know." Elsa ignored him and instead grabbed her phone and started typing.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" Killian watched in alarm as Elsa continued typing what he assumed was a message for Emma. David chuckled while Liam moved his eyes from his wife to the screen with an amused expression.

"Oh my god." After seeing Emma's supposed response, Elsa burst out laughing, increasing Killian’s interest in what Emma might say.

"What?" Killian asked unable to hide his curiosity.

Elsa raised her index finger and waved it, in a sign of refusal. "If you want to know you're going to have to ask her."

He resisted for a moment, but after a few seconds, he let out a huff of annoyance and grabbed his phone.

What have you chosen?

I don’t know what you're talking about.

Swan…

Okay… Only because I’m bored. Watching Jack’s death for the millionth time or seeing how a handful of hot and sweaty guys run behind a ball? My choice is quite clear.

I'm pretty sure you don’t even know the rules.

Who cares about the rules?

A quiet chuckle escaped his mouth as he directed a knowing glance at Elsa.

"I like her, you better keep her by your side, Killian." Although her voice sounded like a warning, her lips drew a soft smile as she looked sideways at her husband.

"I'm glad you found her, mate." David made a poor attempt to imitate his accent while giving him an affectionate squeeze on his shoulder. "It's obvious that she has a good effect on you."

Killian gave a smile of gratitude to his friend. The truth was that, in spite of all his demons of the past, he should feel lucky not only to have found Emma but to have a family and friends who cared so much for him.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

When Emma arrived at Killian's office that Thursday, she was surprised to find him alone, so engrossed in whatever was on his computer screen that he did not even notice her arrival at the beginning.

There was no sign of either Belle or Will, so Emma took the opportunity to watch Killian silently for a few seconds.

He was staring at the screen, a small wrinkle of concentration between his eyebrows, while his fingers slid gracefully over the keyboard. The short-sleeved T-shirt he was wearing exposed his biceps and she enjoyed herself for a moment with the slight movements of his muscles as he typed.

"Swan! I didn't hear you arrive."

Emma flinched at the sound of Killian's voice as she pressed her lips together to close the mouth that had fallen open as she watched him. "Lunchtime." She stammered, raising the hand that held the food bags, while she felt how her cheeks blushed, betraying her even more.

"Very good." His face split into a broad grin, as he gestured for her to come closer. "Will and Belle won't be long."

"Where are they?" Emma asked curiously, surprised not to see them there now that lunchtime had arrived.

"Will decided to invite Belle on one of the ship tours as we had a last-minute vacancy."

How romantic , she thought sarcastically. She liked the couple, though. Once his initial reluctance had been overcome, Will had quickly accepted her as one more in the group and she was also quite comfortable with Belle. They had a somewhat atypical relationship but it was clear that they understood each other perfectly, and most importantly, there were feelings between them, if the looks they shared were an indication.

"In fact, it is at least by Will's standards." Killian's grin widened as the flush in her cheeks became more pronounced, as she realized that she had expressed her thoughts aloud.

"Anyway," she shrugged and then, in an attempt to change the subject, she pointed with her chin to the computer screen, looking over Killian's shoulder. "What were you doing so focused?"

"Oh, I was checking the schedule for the next few days and making some adjustments, nothing important." Killian answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Is that the Jolly Cruises website?"

"Aye, do you want to take a look?" Killian offered through a small smile.

"Sure." She leaned even closer to watch attentively, trying to ignore the overwhelming feeling of having him so close and focusing instead on the screen. It was not a bad design, she had to admit, although a few ideas to improve it began to form in her head.

"What do you think?"

"It's... I think it's fine." Emma shrugged. "It's just that... I might go for a more attractive, impressive and innovative design. The current one is maybe a bit classic."

"A bit classic." Killian echoed her words, as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, his eyes narrowed, studying her. "I didn't know that you were an expert in website design."

Emma shrugged again. "It hadn't come up in conversation yet, and besides, I'm not an expert, I only took a couple of classes several years ago, it's not a big deal."

"Could you improve my website?"

"Maybe..." Emma looked away, somewhat overwhelmed by the way he was looking at her, as if she had discovered a vaccination that would save thousands of lives or something. Her gaze went unconsciously to the map hanging on the wall and what she saw there did nothing to ease that feeling.

A new yellow thumbtack was stuck on the map pointing to Boston City. A thumbtack that represented her. The two together, actually. Without thinking, Emma approached the map, barely aware that Killian was following in her footsteps. She reached for the thumbtack almost touching it. "You chose a new color." She muttered, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Aye, I chose the yellow one because it's the color of your car, but if you prefer another color, just say the word and we will change it." Killian's soft and promising voice caused a spark to ignite inside her. With those simple words and that little gesture, he was telling her, without further words, that he was determined to fill that map with more yellow thumbtacks.

"I like yellow." Emma looked away from the map, searching his gaze. The corners of Killian's lips lifted slightly, while he scratched behind his ear. A tug of determination settled in her stomach, as she made a silent promise that she was going to do everything possible to add her own destinations. And she was going to get it, at least if Killian's hopeful look and determination was anything to go by.

The arrival at that moment of Will and Belle prevented her from doing something really stupid like kissing him. Still, the little voice in her head —she wasn't sure if it was her angel or her inner demon — kept wondering if that really would be such a bad idea. Emma dismissed those thoughts for the time being and instead, she offered Killian one last soft smile before greeting the newcomers.

Will went straight for the bag of food, and everyone took their seats. Emma and Belle took the couch while Killian and Will pulled up chairs. Emma was amazed at how normal everything seemed, they may only have done this once before but it felt as if they had been having lunch together for years. It warmed her heart how readily these people had accepted her into their lives.

But, as was usual with her, not everything was happiness. Her mind —or her inner demon— had other ideas and decided to betray her in that moment, raking up some of her worries, due to the possibility that all that bubble would burst at some point, making her return to her lonely life before meeting Killian. The thought alone caused a chill to run through her body.

"Everything okay there, Swan?" Of course Killian, as perceptive as ever, immediately noticed her uneasiness, a slight wrinkle of concern adorning his forehead, his inquisitive gaze searching for hers.

"Yeah, this can of coke is too cold." She raised the hand holding the drink to justify her words, while shaking her head subtly, returning those thoughts to the hidden corner of her mind to which they belonged. Then she focused on her grilled cheese to avoid Killian's penetrating gaze. "By the way, how was the boat trip, Belle?" She asked before taking a bite of her sandwich.

"Oh, it was really fun, the tourists were very participative this time." A small smile danced on Belle’s lips. "I love accompanying them every time I have the opportunity. It's quite an experience." She assured, still excited, as she shared glances with her boyfriend.

"You should join us someday, love. I'm convinced that The Jolly Roger will make a good impression on you." Will winked at her and then he looked sideways at Killian, who blushed slightly, much to Emma's delight. Will was about to take a bite of his sandwich when something seemed to come to mind. "Since everyone has their task aboard you can take care of the food supplies."

"Well, since I'm the ship's captain, that would be my decision, don't you think, Scarlet?" Killian's voice came out in a slightly authoritative tone, though the amused glint in his eyes said something different.

"Aye, aye, captain." Will replied in a mocking tone, getting everyone to laugh at once. It was a refreshing, liberating laugh, with the ability to drag any vestige of worry that had been lurking moments before. It was also contagious, since, when it seemed that they had calmed down enough, just a sidelong glance from one of them, a snort or a humming were enough to make them laugh again, to the point that Emma's stomach started to hurt, although she did not care in the least.

When they finally calmed down and the laughter was just an echo in the room, they continued eating. The peace was short-lived, though. "Since we've started talking about sailing, I've been making some small adjustments to the schedule." Killian began to speak, the vestige of the previous laughter still present in his voice. "And we all have Saturday afternoon off to go sailing. What do you say, Swan? Are you up for a sailing day and stargazing evening?" While he spoke, his eyebrows danced suggestively, making it impossible to reject the proposal. "And no, you don't have to bring the food, we take care of it. You would be the guest of honour on my ship."

"Uhm, if you put it that way, I'd love to go sailing with all of you." Emma didn't even let him finish, eager to let him know that of course, she was interested in the plan.

"That's great, Emma, I'll love that there will be one more woman on deck so we can control or ignore these two guys."

"Oi, you cannot complain, love, we'll do all the hard work."

"Oh, shut up Will, you're the sailor, we're the guests, right Killian?"

"Even though I would love to have two beautiful ladies enjoying themselves on the deck of my ship, and, believe me, I would love it very much." His gaze sought hers as he grinned. "I made the promise to someone that I would teach her how to sail."

Emma pressed her lips together in an attempt to suppress the grin that threatened to form. "Yeah, and I remember that someone promised to make me his first mate."

"What?" Will's eyes widened as his lips drew a pout. "You're choosing The Swan Girl over me? Again?” He put his hand to his heart in such an overdramatic gesture that Emma couldn't help but laugh again, passing it on to both Belle and Killian, and causing the laughter to echo again in the office, while Will looked at them with a sullen expression. Finally, Belle took pity on him and without a word, sat on his lap and began to tickle him, getting him to also join their uncontrolled laughter.

While she wiped away the tears caused by the hysterical laughter, she made a mental note to enjoy as much as possible of that day at sea. She had the impression that it would be an unforgettable experience.

Saturday, June 24, 2017

Killian was nervous. The whole idea of going sailing had kept him excited the last two days, after Emma's immediate confirmation. Still, it was the first time she visited his ship and he wanted to make a good impression. For that reason, on Saturday morning, he put Will in charge of the two tours they had organized and he dedicated himself to tidying up both the deck and the cabins. He also hoped that hard work kept him busy enough not to let his worries torment him.

He had not succeeded in keeping his thoughts at bay, though, but at least this time his mind decided to give him a break and chose for him some more pleasant memories. So, while he was scrubbing the wooden floor of the deck thoroughly, the memories of the previous night, on their Fringe Friday , kept him company.

This time Emma had not fallen asleep in his arms, to his disappointment, though he would never admit it out loud. Nor did they have another deep conversation, but it was evident from her body language that she felt more than comfortable with his presence there.

There were several beers, a lot of jokes —he could spend hours listening to her refreshing laugh— some scary moments — He was grateful to the show for causing Emma to cling to his knee during the scenes of tension—, and also some innuendo on both sides — Emma’s seductive gaze and the way she bit her bottom lip innocently had the ability to drive him crazy.

He smiled when he remembered Emma's reluctance to him leaving at the end of their Fringe marathon. He hadn't set a time to leave, but when Emma suppressed a yawn he took it as a sign. He gave her a hug, and she clung onto him a little longer than necessary, suggesting that she didn't want to let him go. He hoped these nights would continue beyond their trial period and with every moment shared, his confidence grew that Emma would make the right decision. He was a patient man, he could wait.

Once satisfied with the appearance of the Jolly Roger he returned to his apartment to take a quick shower and prepare the supplies they would need. Finally, he made his return to the ship choosing to walk while admiring the views that the city offered, allowing himself to be caressed by the sea breeze. His nerves were building, so he hoped that an invigorating walk with the view of the horizon would calm him enough.

When Killian came aboard, Will and Belle were already there, behaving like the two lovebirds they were, despite their small differences.

He watched them for a moment, entertained with the way his insolent friend behaved in front of his girlfriend, following all her steps with puppy eyes. Killian shook his head pressing his lips together in an attempt to suppress the grin that threatened to form. Then he cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

"Hey! I see you've worked hard on the deck, Captain. It's spotless." Belle greeted him with a warm smile.

"Of course he has, love, he has to impress someone, doesn’t he?" Will gave Belle a high-five, the two sharing the same amused grin, making Killian roll his eyes. He was about to reply, when a voice from the pier attracted his attention.

"Ahoy! Is there anyone there?"

Killian cursed inwardly when he realized that Will and Belle had distracted him, causing him to miss Emma's arrival. He hurried to the railing, his gaze searching for her. The sight he found took his breath away.

Emma was stunning, looking over her sunglasses, a shy smile adorning her lips. A backpack slung over her right shoulder while her hair was pulled back in a braid that fell over her left one. Killian swallowed hard as he saw how she was dressed, a tiny white tank top that showed off a bikini, and shorts that revealed her long, slender legs. He was in serious trouble, unsure of being able to survive this day.

"Hey there, sailor. Permission to come aboard?" Emma asked as she pulled her sunglasses over her head, exposing her hypnotizing green eyes.

"Uh, I'm not sure, love. Since you seem not to recognize my rank, how will I know that you won't commit some kind of mutiny on board?" Killian leaned his elbow on the railing, resting his chin on his hand, as he raised an eyebrow in question.

Emma started up the access ramp, ignoring him. The mischievous gleam in her eyes did not bode well —or maybe it was the omen of something too good —"Would you make me walk the plank..." She paused for a moment, arching one of her perfect eyebrows. "...captain?" Her tongue darted out to wet her lips the moment she uttered the last word.

A chill ran down his spine, while an almost irrepressible urge to replace her tongue with his own and taste her lips threatened to make him lose any composure. But two could play this game, so, after taking a deep breath and suppressing his momentum, he took a few steps towards her offering his hand to help her bridge the distance that separated them. When she was only a few inches away, his head tilted slightly, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Or maybe I could lock you in the brig. I can think of a couple of appropriate punishments for your insubordination..."

Although he didn't wait for an answer, moving away from her instantly while gesturing to Will and Belle to come closer, his lips drew a wide smirk of satisfaction after seeing how she was also affected by this game between them, at least according to the spark of lust that flashed through her eyes, making her green color almost disappear.

In front of his friends, he plastered an innocent smile, in an attempt to pull himself together even though his blood was still running hot at the mere presence of Emma by his side. During the brief talk they had with Will and Belle, he was able to keep his composure, managing with great difficulty to look away from her. Even so, he could not help but glance at her from time to time, their eyes crossing over on more than one occasion while he noticed, to his satisfaction, that she still seemed affected, her cheeks colored with a faint pink tinge.

Their little tour while he showed her the ship was not much better in terms of controlling his emotions. First, because his hand slid down the small of her back to guide her over the deck, that little touch sending electric waves all over his body. Second, because he suddenly began to feel nervous and anxious to know Emma's opinion. He was proud of his work, of turning four ramshackle timber planks into this little ship, his humble personal project, but Emma's recognition became of vital importance. Although she had already admitted that she had no knowledge about ships, he at least hoped that she could assess all the effort he had put into the restoration.

For the first few minutes, Emma's lips remained sealed, while she was just watching and listening to Killian's explanations. Slowly, however, her expression began to change, her eyes widening slightly as he explained how he lifted the mast as her hand slid smoothly over some of the polished wood surfaces.

"So, you did all this work?" She waved her hand in the air, her head tilted slightly as she gave him an intense look. His heart swelled a little when he detected a flash of something crossing her gaze, perhaps admiration? He pressed his lips together in an attempt to suppress the smile of pride that was beginning to bloom.

"Well, I helped a little." Will was quicker than him to respond, a smirk on his face as he swayed slightly back and forth, with his hands in his back pockets. His smile vanished immediately the moment he caught Killian's glare, though. "I mean, yes, Killian did most of the work, but I did collaborate, didn't I, Belle?" Will sought the support of his girlfriend with an imploring voice.

Belle rolled her eyes, ignoring Will as she directed a confident smile to Emma. "You should have seen the state of the ship when Killian acquired it, four wooden planks barely keeping afloat. But he spent days working under the sun or the rain. There were even days when we had to come and keep an eye on him to prevent him from dying of exhaustion."

Belle gave him a look full of affection that he accepted with a faint smile, suddenly unable to speak due to the lump forming in his throat. Old memories of his first months in Boston came to his mind, while his heart was pounding, recalling how he put so much effort on the boat as a way to keep his mind and body occupied, with the aim of falling unconscious in bed and avoiding in that way that nightmares torment him.

David and Mary Margaret were just neighbors and Belle was only his secretary in those first months in which he had to acclimatize to a new country. But luckily, they cared about him enough to support him in his project and make sure he did not faint from exhaustion. Little by little, although his old demons were still around, he focused on his work and not as a means of burying those painful memories but as an opportunity to create something beautiful from them. And that's how The Jolly Roger resurfaced from its ashes.

"We even brought him food sometimes." Will pointed as a reminder. His friend's words brought him back to reality, redirecting his thoughts, something Killian felt instantly grateful for.

"No way, mate." Killian raised his index finger, waving it in denial. "Those meals don't make up for everything I've bought for you two. I think you've both been rewarded enough already, right?" He pointed to the two intently, while they exchanged sidelong glances, Belle with flushed cheeks and a huge grin adorning Will's face.

"Wait a moment." Emma broke the spell between the two lovebirds. "So, you two..." Emma then turned her head towards Killian. "They are together because of you?"

Killian shrugged. "I hired her, didn't I?"

"And we spent a lot of time together in the office while the business was developing, and then here, watching Killian, we got to know each other little by little." Will added without taking his eyes off his girlfriend.

"And the spark ignited." Belle confirmed through a smile that matched Will's. Killian rolled his eyes, these two could sometimes be so cheesy... but the corners of his lips rose slightly, glad that they had found each other. They made a good couple, atypical, but good anyway. Will had found the perfect person for him, someone able to tame his rebellious personality, and Belle in exchange had gotten an admirer and a totally loyal companion.

"You guys are so cute." As she spoke, Emma pulled out her phone and pointed at them, capturing the moment. Then she turned back to him, her lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Do I have to add matchmaker then to your list of qualities?"

"Oh, you've made a list of my qualities? I'm flattered, love." His eyebrows waved as he winked at her. This was new. And good, he thought delighted.

"Oh shut up." Emma snorted. "There is a quality that will never be on that list, buddy. Modesty."

"You want modesty, I can show you modesty, Swan." Killian challenged, taking a step toward her while his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes, a gesture he found increasingly adorable. "And what would you do with all that ego of yours?" Her gaze moved from his eyes to his mouth, as she also took a step forward, causing his entire body to vibrate in anticipation.

"And that's how the spark ignited again aboard the Jolly Roger." Will's words broke the spell, fortunately for him, because he had been about to do something as stupid as kissing her senseless right there.

"Will!" Belle chided her boyfriend. "I was about to take a picture of them."

Killian had to suppress a groan of annoyance because he would have loved to see that moment immortalized. Emma did not seem to think the same, though. She backed off, averting her gaze, and focusing again on the ship.

"Can I take some pictures?" She asked.

He did not give up. He was not sure if with his attitude he would win her heart, but having her here, in a place so beloved to him, sharing memories, while she teased him constantly made his ability to think clearly evaporate at times. For that reason, he could not help teasing her back. He arched an eyebrow as his lips curled into his trademark smirk as he addressed her. "You like what you see, eh, Swan?"

Her mouth opened and closed instantly, as if she was considering her words. After a few seconds, Emma's lips twisted in an expression of approval. "For the record, I have no intention of feeding your ego even more, and I’ll probably regret these words." She paused again, her intense gaze causing him to hold his breath in anticipation. "I may not have knowledge of boats, but I can appreciate the effort, the dedication, and the work well done, and this boat is proof of that, good job, Jones."

His heart threatened to come out of his chest while he repressed the urge to hug her. Instead, his gaze drifted from her hypnotizing green eyes to her lips that were drawing a smile too tempting for her own good. "I appreciate your words, really." He commented with a slight tilt of his head as he held her gaze, unable to look away from her.

It was Emma who broke the spell, finally diverting her gaze to the helm. After clearing her throat, she asked. "Well, are we going to sail or not?"

"Of course, milady." Killian turned to Will. "Let's take out the old lady, Will, and let the lasses enjoy the ride."

The afternoon was being a torture, a sweet and delicious one, but torture nonetheless.

At least he had a distraction while maneuvering the ship to leave the docks, all his senses focused on handling the boat to ensure the safety of passengers and other ships. However, when they entered the sea and their only companions were the sea breeze, the warm sun and the sound of the waves as they broke against the keel, his sweet agony made an appearance. The person to blame had her own name, Emma.

While they were cruising the sea, she stood on the side of the deck next to Belle, leaning on the railing in such a way that he could only see her profile. Sailing was doing wonders for her, some unruly strands had come loose from her braid, dancing to the rhythm of the breeze, while her tank top waved slightly and pressed against her body in the right places, giving him a perfect profile of her chest. She was stunning with her cheeks slightly flushed and a placid smile on her face.

But the worst part —or the best, he could no longer think clearly— came when Belle decided it was a good idea that, while the boys were driving the ship, the girls would take advantage of the pleasant temperature to sunbathe. He had to suppress a chill, his sweaty hands clinging to the helm, while his blood ran hot to the south, at the moment when Emma undressed, keeping only that tiny yellow bikini that left little to the imagination. The fact that she turned her head, seeking his gaze on purpose while biting her lower lip did not help to relieve his inner turmoil, quite the contrary.

His mind decided to betray him too, imagining everything he could do with her body, how he would worship her, and how much he longed to caress her creamy skin or tangle his fingers in her golden curls, while his lips traced a path of kisses all over her body… Bloody hell! If he continued down that road he would have to leave the helm to take care of himself. She was a bloody siren that had trapped him in her spell, robbing him of the ability to function properly.

He looked away to the horizon as he took two deep breaths and began mentally reciting the schedule for next week, in an attempt to distract his mind enough to forget Emma's presence for a while.

That worked, as the sea always did, acting as a balm while he closed his eyes and guided himself by instinct, feeling the slight vibration of the helm before his grip and the swaying of the boat beneath his feet. The sea breeze caressed his face and the hypnotizing sound of the sails dancing to the rhythm of the wind reached his ears, finally getting him calm enough. This time the thoughts that went through his head were less lustful, reveling in the idea of sharing a sunset alone with Emma aboard his ship, with the sea and the sky as the only witnesses of their blooming relationship.

"Hey, Killian!" Belle's voice from the other side of the deck brought him back to reality. He opened his eyes again, following the direction of the sound checking that Belle was waving her hand to get his attention. "It's too hot to sunbathe, why don't you anchor and let us fish for a while?"

The corners of his lips rose slightly at the suggestion. Belle had also become a person who loved everything the sea and sailing could offer her. However, she always opted for quieter activities while leaving hard work to the boys. Some days she could spend whole afternoons sitting in her favorite corner of the deck while devouring one of her books. Other days, she opted for fishing or even on occasions she combined her two hobbies, while one hand held the fishing rod, the other held one of her books.

"Good idea mate, while they fish we can have a few beers, I'm thirsty." Will added as he began with the maneuvers to stop the ship.

"What do you say, Swan?" Killian offered, putting all his effort into keeping his gaze from going all over her body. At least she'd had the decency to put on her shorts again, but her upper body was still bare except for the tiny bikini.

She looked at him over her sunglasses as she shrugged. "I haven't fished in my entire life."

"Oh, but that won't be a problem at all. Killian will be happy to help you, right?" Belle's lips drew the most innocent smile but her mischievous look betrayed her.

Before answering, Emma put the glasses back on her head, her penetrating gaze holding his. "Okay, let's do it."

Killian swallowed, while he nodded slightly, his lips pressed together in a tight smile, as his heart hammered against his chest. He did not stop feeling impressed and also felt a slight panic for the power that woman had over him. Definitely, he was not sure of surviving this day, but he had already surrendered to this sweet torture to which he was being subjected, willing to maintain the agony of having Emma by his side.

He shook his head trying to keep his troubled thoughts at bay, leaving the helm and helping Will get the refreshments while the lasses went in search of the fishing tackle.

"How is this supposed to work?" Emma asked while holding the fishing rod in her hand. Her ignorance seemed genuine, but a mischievous gleam in her eyes said otherwise. Belle's not entirely subtle strategy had worked on both sides, since Emma seemed willing to let herself be guided and Killian, of course, was not going to miss the opportunity to get close to her, even if it was on the pretext of teaching her how to handle a fishing rod.

"It's pretty easy actually." As he spoke, Killian opened the jar where the bait was kept, grabbed one of the pieces and showed it to Emma. He had to stifle a laugh as he watched Emma wrinkle her nose in revulsion. "You just have to put the bait on the hook, grab the rod and throw the line, like that." When the hook made contact with the water, Killian handed the rod to Emma.

"Well, I think I'll leave you the part of the bait ... that's not my thing." She grabbed the rod decisively, but immediately her forehead creased. "And now, I just have to wait and that's it?"

"That's the idea, love, wait for some fish to take the bait."

"Okay, and if that happens, I have to roll the reel, right?" Killian nodded, but Emma did not seem convinced. She bit her lower lip before asking him. "Can you, you know, show it to me?"

His lips drew the ghost of a smile and he stood behind her, hoping that his heartbeat didn't betray him. He felt intoxicated every time he was so close to Emma, especially on an occasion like this, in which he could almost touch her skin and smell the coconut perfume of her sunscreen lotion. His hand settled over hers as he guided her movements. "It's simple, Swan, when you notice a pull in the line, you'll have to start rolling it up like this."

"Okay, it seems easy, although I doubt I'll catch anything anyway." Emma shrugged and turned her head slightly to give him a sidelong glance, "Thanks for the lesson." His hand lingered over hers, reluctant to leave so soon. "And now, maybe it's time for me to practice alone, don't you think?"

"Sure." He pulled away from her, feeling the loss of contact immediately. He pointed to Will, sitting in a part furthest from the deck. "We'll be there, having a beer in case you need something."

"I think we manage, Killian, it's not the first time I’ve fished. Now go entertain my boyfriend before he comes over and scares the fish away." Belle dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

Emma gave him a small smile before focusing her gaze on the sea. Although she seemed determined and committed to fishing, he suspected that she would get bored soon, especially if Belle also concentrated on her task. That did not seem to be the case, he observed with relief, as before turning he could see how Belle engaged her in a conversation, causing Emma to burst out laughing.

As he walked towards Will, he thought how well the two of them seemed to have got along. He could not be more grateful to see how Emma had fit perfectly into his small group.

It was a hot day so he rushed to grab a bottle of beer before dropping down next to Will, reveling in the icy contact of the glass against his skin. He would also need a cold shower to quell his agitation, but for now, he would have to settle for just the drink. He had not even had time to take the first sip when Will interrupted him, snapping at him through a huge smirk.

“I told you, didn’t I? The Swan Girl was going to fall fast for you.”

A sigh escaped his mouth as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He was not going to have that conversation now. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Will.”

“Oh, come on! It can’t be that difficult to grab a fishing rod. She was acting like that on purpose.” Will insisted. It was as if the couple had agreed to act as matchmakers between them. He really appreciated it, but he preferred to take his possible relationship with Emma on his own terms, without intermediaries.

Even so, he couldn’t deny it, the connection between the two of them grew stronger each time. The attraction he felt towards her was hard to hide, but what did surprise him was that her feelings were so evident that his friend detected it. That was a sign that the deal was on the right path, wasn’t it?

“Besides,” Will continued, “you’d better keep The Swan Girl around, especially if it’s going to become common practice for her to bring us food at least once a week. That girl suits you.”

Killian let out a snort as he shook his head. Will was incorrigible about food, and if someone got him free food, he would promise eternal loyalty. Just as he was about to reply, a shout from Emma caused them to turn in her direction.

"Killian! I got something! Something is straining the line!" Emma cried excitedly, bouncing in her place while trying to handle the rod. Killian jumped out of the seat and hurried to her side. Without thinking twice, he stood behind her again, holding the rod tightly and helping her roll up the reel. He could feel how her whole body vibrated with excitement, but he tried to ignore all the sensations that were taking hold of him, focusing on the task at hand. They were not going to let that fish escape in any way.

After a few seconds, a fairly large fish emerged from the water kicking. "Hold on, I'll get it.” Killian handed Emma the rod and went to the other end of the line to unhook the fish. Then he showed it to Emma, his face splitting into a giant grin, unable to hide the pride he felt. "Well done, love."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it!" Emma then lunged at him and wrapped him in an unexpected hug, causing both of them to almost fall to the ground. Surprised by her action, he took a few seconds to react but then he wrapped one arm around her waist to keep them both steady, while keeping his other hand outstretched, holding the fish. He was overwhelmed with sensations as his heart hammered inside his chest. He could still feel Emma buzzing with excitement against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in tighter. The increased closeness started a fire in his veins, and made his stomach flutter. He dearly wished he could wrap his other arm around her, to return the embrace but the little fish, the cause of her excitement, remained quivering in his hand.

He tried to keep the hug a little longer but Emma broke apart after a few seconds. He searched her gaze to make sure she was not upset for her unexpected reaction. To his relief, although she seemed a little troubled, her lips curled into a shy smile before turning her attention to the fish.

"Now I feel bad. The poor thing is suffering. I don't want to fish anymore." Her lips twisted into an adorable pout while she waved her hand. "Go and return it to the sea, Jones."

This woman was full of surprises. A moment before she vibrated with excitement after having got the fish to take the bait. The next moment, she looked at him with pleading eyes asking him to keep the poor fish alive. And of course, he was going to do it, not that he was very fond of fishing anyway. "As you wish."

He approached the railing, followed closely by Emma and threw it into the sea, hoping that the fish would stay alive, at least until the next fisherman arrived or the law of nature took its course. "It's a shame, because that was going to be our dinner." He said, trying to keep a straight face.

"Are you serious?" Emma turned to him, giving him a suspicious look.

Killian chuckled quietly, "I was just kidding, Swan. In fact, there's a picnic ready for later. How about instead of fishing, I give you your first sailing lesson?” He offered, extending his hand towards her and ignoring the butterflies in his stomach caused by thinking of a new opportunity to keep her by his side.

After a few seconds of hesitation, she took his hand. "Aye aye captain." He intertwined his fingers with hers, as he pulled her gently guiding her to the helm.

"Just so there's no doubt, Emma, I'm still the first mate on this ship, huh?" Will warned from his side of the deck, but he was quickly silenced by Belle.

"Shut up, Will, leave them alone for a while and keep me company here, I'm bored." She had also stopped fishing and had lain in one of the hammocks furthest from the deck.

"Keep walking and ignore him." Killian whispered in her ear. "Belle will keep him busy for a while." Emma giggled by his side, in response, while they kept walking.

Her first lesson was aimed at making her familiar with the use of the helm. This also meant that his sweet torture not only continued but became more intense. For the next few minutes, he stood behind Emma, his hands on hers as he guided her movements gently. The warmth of her body against his, and her intoxicating scent, a mix of the vanilla of her shampoo and the coconut of her sunscreen made his head spin. But he simply closed his eyes and let himself be carried away, cradled by the swing of the ship. While whispering instructions in her ear, he felt delighted by the effect of his soft breathing against the skin of her neck, leaving goosebumps on its path.

The next two hours flew by. They sailed for a while, taking advantage of the good weather. When the sun was about to set, Killian took command again while suggesting Emma watch the sunset, indicating the best spot on the deck to enjoy the show.

She soon joined Will and Belle, who were also leaning against the railing facing the horizon. One of the greatest pleasures he found when sailing was to contemplate the effects of nature, to see how the sun, both in its ascent and its descent, used the sky as a painting filling it with multiple colors. But no spectacle could be compared to the vision of seeing Emma, her skin bathed in the last rays of the sun, her rebellious locks more golden than ever dancing to the rhythm of the sea breeze and a serene expression on her face.

There was something Killian was even more pleased with, something more important than contemplating her beauty, and it was the satisfaction of seeing that Emma was enjoying this new experience of sailing. She participated enthusiastically in any suggested activity and did not hide her curiosity about everything related to the ship, asking multiple questions that he answered patiently.

Just when the sun ended its descent disappearing on the horizon, they decided to take a light dinner, sandwiches, soft drinks and beers were shared among all, sprinkled with casual conversations in order to get to know each other better. It was evident that Emma was at ease, that she had gotten along well with his two friends, handling well Will's impertinence and sharing looks of complicity with Belle.

That was the moment when Killian and Will decided to entertain the ladies, telling them of the adventures they had while sailing. Their experiences at sea were far from as exciting as the pirate adventures he loved so much, but they did make Emma's eyes sparkle with excitement as she listened intently. That was more than enough for him.

When the night finally fell over them, it was time to indulge in another of his favorite activities on the high seas, stargazing. It's not that he intended to impress her with his knowledge of the subject — the fact that Emma looked at him enraptured while he told stories about the different constellations did not cause his chest to swell with pride, not at all — He simply wanted Emma to live her first experience on board a ship to its fullest. Yes, that was it.

The night seemed to have calmed his inner turmoil, replacing it with a warmer feeling. The fact that the temperatures had dropped and Emma no longer tempted him with her perfect body had something to do, it was obvious, but the connection between them, was not only physical attraction, his feelings towards her were much deeper and the more time he spent with her, the more attracted he felt. He hoped that she was feeling the same.

They reached port a little later, all smiles and camaraderie after their little outing. Will and Belle said goodbye shortly after disembarking, both walking by the docks holding hands. Killian and Emma watched as they walked away while a quiet silence fell over them. It was at that moment when he realized this was the first time the two of them were alone in all day. Also at that moment, all his determination seemed to evaporate, being replaced by a hesitation that prevented him from deciding what his next move would be.

"So..." He instantly hated the faint faltering in his voice. "Do you want me to escort you to your car?" He suggested tentatively through a half smile.

Emma looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I'm a big girl, Jones, I can take care of myself. Or is this a poor excuse because you don't want to let me go yet?"

"Perhaps..." He scratched behind his ear as he grinned at her.

She rolled her eyes but her lips drew a small smile as she extended her hand in clear invitation to follow her. They walked in silence, in no hurry to reach their destination. However, the yellow bug was soon in sight and with it the moment to say goodbye.

Before entering the car, Emma looked around. "Where's your car?" She asked with a slight frown.

"I walked here." Killian shrugged, he had walked to the docks on countless occasions.

Emma tilted her head, giving him a questioning look. "If I remember correctly thanks to David's explanations, your apartment should be half an hour away from here."

"Aye, but I like to walk. Exercise clears my mind."

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then she nodded subtly, as if convincing herself. She searched his gaze with the determination marked on her face. "Get in the car."

"It's okay, Swan, really, I don't mind walking."

"I thought you didn't want to let me go yet? Get in the car, Jones." She insisted stubbornly. So who was he to refuse?

"If the lady insists." He made a slight bow with his head as he schooled his features so as not to betray his excitement. Only a subtle smile remained on his lips by the time he met her gaze again.

The only words they shared on the way to his apartment were the directions that Killian offered Emma to reach their destination. Emma's eyes were focused on the road while Killian directed his gaze to the window, watching the city pass at full speed. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but rather a sense of tranquility. Killian allowed himself those few minutes to recall the unforgettable moments experienced throughout the day.

The journey didn't last long, a few minutes later Emma parked in front of his apartment complex. The time to say goodbye had arrived, but he was still reluctant to let her go. Maybe that's why, or maybe because his bravado seemed to have returned in all its glory, he played the last card that would allow him to move away from the moment they had to separate.

"Do you want to come up for a coffee or something?" He offered in a nonchalant tone, no trace of seduction in his voice. Against all odds, he did not find it appropriate to use one of his innuendos at this time. Although a tug of anticipation had settled in his stomach, he didn't want her to feel pressured or do something that she did not feel comfortable with yet.

Emma raised an eyebrow before answering. "Is this another of your excuses for not letting me go yet?"

"Perhaps..."

This time, Killian could not read Emma's expression, even though he could detect a flash of hesitation in her eyes. After a faint sigh, she accepted. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, but only because I'm thirsty and because I'm curious to see your house." Emma was quick to warn, though her flushed cheeks might indicate that she was also reluctant to let him go.

"Sorry for the mess." That was the first thing he said after opening the door and standing aside to let Emma in. "I did not expect, you know ... any visitors." He continued as he took off his hoodie and hung it on the rack next to the front door.

"You think this is messy?" She questioned in disbelief as her hand waved pointing to the living room. "I wonder what you must think every time you go to my apartment."

Killian chuckled softly, grateful that the mention of the untidiness had served to break the ice and thus prevent her from feeling uncomfortable. "If it was messy I did not notice it." He assured winking at her.

"Yeah, sure." Emma shook her head slightly as her gaze began to wander over the room.

Although his apartment was a little larger than Emma's, it was still a tiny one, an open space that included a living room and kitchen, a small hallway leading to his bedroom and bathroom and a spiral staircase that connected to the upper floor, where his favorite rooms were, his little studio and the rooftop, the area he was most proud of. Although he spent most of his time on the ground floor, the upper floor offered him refuge at times when he needed to disconnect.

"Make yourself comfortable while I get our drinks. Hot chocolate?" He offered, glancing over his shoulder as he made his way to the kitchen.

"Uh huh..." She answered absently, as she looked around.

The corners of his lips rose slightly as he noted with satisfaction that Emma seemed comfortable in his apartment. When he looked back at her before going to prepare the chocolate, she was settling on the sofa. A warm feeling spread through his chest, to see how well she fit in, not only with his hobbies, his ideas or with his life in general, but now with his home as well.

After preparing the hot chocolate he poured it on the mugs, not forgetting the whipped cream and cinnamon, something he had learned to appreciate thanks to Emma. Killian shook his head as she smiled at the thought, once again, of the effect that amazing woman had on him.

When he went back to the living room carrying the two mugs, the image he found made his heart melt a little more. Emma lay asleep on his couch, clutching one of his cushions, a placid expression on her slightly tanned face and the ghost of a smile on her lips. He smiled fondly, the feeling that she belonged to this place growing strong inside him.

Sunday, June 25, 2017

Emma awoke the next day well rested, with the feeling of having slept peacefully for several hours. Still reluctant to abandon the sleep, she kept her eyes closed as she snuggled into the cocoon formed by the sheets. Just as her mind began to navigate between the world of dreams and consciousness, she detected something different, a smell. Killian's scent. She smiled at the thought that a dream might seem so real that she was able to feel his intoxicating scent penetrating her nostrils. It felt so real... maybe too real...

She sat up with a start as she looked around frantically unable to recognize the place. A sense of panic began to creep over her as her brain, still clouded by sleep, tried hard to remember what had happened the night before.

Her eyes then detected a framed photo on the bedside table. A photo of the Jones family. The corner of her lips lifted subtly as she exhaled deeply in relief, the memories coming little by little to her head. She lay down again, burying her head in the pillow and feeling once again how Killian's lingering scent caused her a slight feeling of dizziness. She must have fallen asleep on the couch, exhausted from their intense experience at sea. It seemed that this was going to become a habit, Emma falling asleep on the couch and Killian carrying her to the nearest bed, which in that case happened to be his own.

Just as she was beginning to wonder where he had gone, she noted that her cell phone was on the nightstand, along with a paper note. Emma smiled again, reveling in Killian's elegant handwriting.

Hello Sleeping Beauty. Do you know that when you fall asleep there is nothing that can wake you up? I'll be sleeping on the couch. Make yourself at home.

He was such an idiot... and cute, and handsome, and a little sassy, and he gave off such self-confidence as he captained the ship. And those eyes, his very blue eyes... God! She had a serious problem, the bastard had gotten under her skin in such a way that he now occupied all her thoughts. And being in his bedroom, lying on his bed and between his sheets, in the same ones he would have been wrapped in the night before, did not help in the least, quite the contrary.

Even so, before getting out of bed, she buried her nose in the pillow, inhaling deeply, while thinking that this was one of the great advantages of not being separated by an ocean. Now she could smell, touch, feel... She let out a groan as she covered her face with her hands. Since when had she become a teenage girl with her first crush instead of a grown woman? Since she met damned Killian Jones.

It was her bladder that forced her to get up. Once the bathroom was located and after relieving herself, she tried to untangle her hair with her fingers. — "Where do you keep a comb, Jones?" Finally, she gave up, putting her hair up in a sloppy bun. She washed her face and used some of Killian's toothpaste to freshen her breath. She needed to be presentable enough for when it was time to face Killian again.

It was strange, to walk through a house she had never been in while its owner was asleep. Well, it was not really strange, a strong feeling of déjà vu came over her as she thought about her one night stands. But with Killian, it felt so different...

She was not walking on tiptoe to avoid awakening the guy in question and having to explain. She did it because it was Sunday, and she didn't want to disturb Killian's sleep. Not yet. When on other occasions she would have left the apartment without even looking back, she was now in his living room, reveling in how Killian had managed to make the place seem cozy, tastefully decorated, but at the same time maintaining a slightly masculine line. Every little detail reminded her of Killian. And, above all, this place looked dangerously like something she could call home...

A chill ran down her spine, though she was unsure if it was solely caused by the low morning temperature. A slight sense of panic tugged at her stomach, clenching it in knots. She deliberately avoided looking at the couch, afraid that feeling would get stronger. Instead, she grabbed the hoodie Killian had hung on the rack the night before and wrapped herself in it, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply, letting his scent invade her again.

She felt hopeless about Killian. After a few more minutes roaming the room, she finally gave up and, resigned, looked at the figure lying asleep on the couch.

Her heart began to beat faster, while a warmth spread all over her chest. He looked so young while he slept... His long lashes caressed his flushed cheeks, his lips were parted slightly, his face relaxed. He had his right arm bent under his head while his other arm rested on his stomach. The t-shirt he was wearing had slid up slightly, exposing part of his belly and a hint of his torso hair on its way to disappearing under his sweatpants...

Emma suddenly felt suffocated, as she repressed the urge to reach out and touch his exposed skin... She needed some fresh air. Immediately.

She looked away and noticed the spiral staircase in the corner of the room. She approached as she remembered that Killian's apartment also included a rooftop.

Her need to know everything possible about Killian made her climb the stairs ready to satisfy her curiosity. What she found not only did not disappoint her but her sense of home increased. The staircase led to a small room, just a studio with minimal furniture, a desk, an armchair near the door to the rooftop and a shelf full of books, a small sofa and a table for television. But all this was dotted with nautical details, decorated with warm colors and several pictures of his family hanging from the walls. She could not help but reach out and brush her fingers delicately over one of the photos, probably taken recently, since Killian appeared with his two nephews and niece. It was adorable and also a menace to her, as the butterflies of her stomach began to flap furiously.

She sighed in surprise as she reached the small rooftop area, expecting it to be much larger. Instead, the roof was more like a large balcony, with a garden set of table and chairs on one side and several plants adorning both the floor and the walls. Emma walked over to the railing to watch the view as the cool morning breeze caressed her face.

The roller coaster of emotions that she was living since yesterday — to be honest, since she found the damn phone — seemed to have no end. But she tried to ignore her feelings and instead focused on Killian. It was unfair in a way, she thought with some bitterness. This man still carried a high burden on his shoulders, despite having left his homeland trying for a fresh start, his demons of the past had not yet left him. However, he had been able to build a life here, surround himself with friends, create a home.

Emma however, had lived in Boston for two years, could hardly consider her apartment a home and she had begun to open up to other people only at the moment when Killian appeared in her life.

He had all the ingredients to keep moving on, he just needed a little push and determination to do it. And she was sure that Killian Jones would get it.

The idea that she could, not only accompany him on this path but be in a way the catalyst was too tempting, but also overwhelming. Emma was aware at that very moment, that there was no turning back, that thanks to Killian she was experiencing for the first time what it was to live, not just to exist. She was opening, letting people in, she was living new experiences, her walls were almost completely gone. And that was what scared her the most, the power Killian had over her. If she let the last bricks fall apart, that also meant that if, for some reason, things did not go right between them, she would be totally destroyed after having lost her armor. The mere thought of having to return to her pathetic and lonely past life made her stomach tighten into knots.

Emma shook her head, returning those thoughts to the depths of her mind. She still had a week to continue experimenting with Killian and she was not going to waste it.

The first thing Killian noticed when he woke up was a sharp pain in the back of his neck radiating to his right shoulder. He grunted in pain as he brought his left hand to his nape and massaged it trying to stretch his muscles. Bloody couch ... His mind was still clouded from sleep and he was reluctant to open his eyes, but little by little a thought began to wander through his head. The moment he processed the reason why he was sleeping on the couch he sat up with a start, his heart beating frantically against his rib cage. Emma!

Not even in his best dreams — well, maybe in some of his wild and unspeakable dreams — would he have imagined that the day would begin like this, with Emma sleeping in his bed. Maybe for that reason, he sat up suddenly and went to his bedroom. Maybe he wanted to check that, in effect, what had happened was not the product of his imagination.

The smile on his face disappeared the moment he opened the door to his bedroom and found that his bed was empty. He felt his heart drop to his stomach while utter disappointment washed over him. It had been too good to be true, he thought with some bitterness.

He was about to close the door again when something caught his attention. Her backpack was still there, just like her phone. He let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he should get used to the fact that with Emma Swan, his heart would never be calm again.

Where was she? He wondered as he returned to the kitchen, noticing that the bathroom door was open so she wasn't in there. Killian noticed then that his hoodie had disappeared, and only one person could have borrowed it and that person might need it right now. Smiling, he glanced at the ceiling realizing that Emma was likely on the roof above. He decided to leave a few more minutes of privacy to Emma, and went to prepare some coffee. Although they would go out soon to meet the Nolans for brunch, he needed caffeine. He suspected that Emma would not refuse a cup of hot coffee either.

He made his way to the rooftop in silence, holding both mugs in hand. When he arrived, Emma did not seem to notice his presence. She had her back to him, leaning against the railing. She was wearing his hoodie, and the same shorts from the day before, those that revealed her legs in a somewhat sinful way. Her hair was pulled back in a bun that exposed the back of her neck. She was a vision.

Killian carefully set down the mugs on the garden table and sidled toward her, his stomach fluttering in anticipation to know what her reaction to his presence would be.

When he was just a few inches away from her, he whispered in her ear. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

"Shit Killian!” She cried out with a shudder as she turned her head slightly. "I almost had a heart attack." She scolded, a small wrinkle of annoyance adorning her forehead.

"I'm sorry, love." He suppressed a laugh. "I brought coffee." He offered, pointing to the table.

Emma looked over her shoulder, but then returned her sight to the city. "Thank you." She murmured.

Killian noticed she was shivering slightly. Although she wore his hoodie, it was an unusually cold morning despite being a day in late June. Tentatively, he placed his hands on both of Emma's arms and began rubbing them gently, in order to provide her with some warmth.

To his surprise and total delight, Emma not only did not reject the touch but she reached into his arms and wrapped them around her shoulders, snuggling against him. He closed his eyes trying to calm his breathing and his agitated heart, not quite sure that he was not still dreaming.

"It's cold." She justified, arching her back a little more against his chest.

"So you're using me as a kind of human heater, eh? Have you already added it as one of my qualities on that list of yours?"

"Maybe."

Killian chuckled. The fact that she used the cold as an excuse was perfectly fine with him. Any excuse to hold Emma in his arms was worth it to him. He could get used to that, get up in the morning and share a cup of coffee on the rooftop, together. A sense of vertigo seized him, as he tightened his embrace and buried his head in the hollow of her neck and shoulder. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

Monday, June 26, 2017

Swan! Tell me you haven't stolen my favorite hoodie.

I haven't stolen your favorite hoodie.

It's not funny. It's the one I wear when I go sailing, it's like my work uniform.

It's just a hoodie.

It's my hoodie.

And what would you say to me if you knew that I am wearing it now? With nothing underneath?

Minx.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Did you catch your jumper?

I did.

That's my girl! Do you fancy a drink to celebrate?

Okay.

Your place or mine?

Mine, 7pm, don't be late.

As you wish.

Thursday, June 29, 2017

On my way to your office. Ask Will and Belle if they have any preference for pizza. And no, I'm not going to order pineapple.

Of course not. That's sacrilege.

And no anchovies either.

Swan...

I'm paying today, buddy.

Friday, June 30, 2017

Even though it had been almost a week, Emma had not been able to stop thinking about her first experience aboard a boat. She wouldn't tell him, for fear of sending his ego into overdrive, but that first experience had surpassed all expectations. In fact, she sometimes was enthralled by recalling the mixture of feelings that had taken over her that one day, the feeling of freedom as she surfed the waves, all the ocean at her disposal, the sea breeze and the rays of the sun caressing her skin, the laughter and complicity shared with both Will and Belle. And Killian, his confidence, his skills, his ability to tell stories and his appeal that seemed to increase when he showed signs of his command and knowledge.

And the next day in his apartment... Despite having that overwhelming moment on the rooftop, the mere presence of Killian behind her had been enough to calm her down. Which was somewhat contradictory, because he had also been to blame for her inner turmoil.

Something had changed between them from that moment. The physical contact between them was now more usual, either through a casual brush of their fingers when they were going to grab something, or the kiss on the cheek that he gave her every time they met, or the little hugs they shared to say goodbye. Her inhibitions were disappearing little by little, being replaced by an almost constant need of Killian. They needed to see each other every day and any excuse was good for it.

"Earth to Emma."

Graham's voice brought her back to reality. She realized then that, although her hand remained on the computer mouse, she had not paid attention at all neither to the screen nor to her boss, apparently.

"Are you back with me?" Graham had approached her desk, leaning toward her, his hands on the smooth surface and an amused expression on his face.

Shit. All this was Killian's fault. The bastard had got under her skin and prevented her from concentrating even on the simplest tasks. Emma cleared her throat and straightened her back. "Sorry, I got distracted." She murmured apologetically.

"I can see that." Graham grinned. "And I guess your distraction has something to do with a certain Irishman, am I right?"

Emma felt her cheeks flush, suddenly very interested in what appeared on her computer's screen. Was she really that obvious? Even so, she decided to ignore her boss. "What do you want?"

Graham raised an eyebrow in question, but after shaking his head slightly, he explained. "I was asking you if you need company for this morning's surveillance."

Emma was going to answer when something caught her attention. She shifted her gaze to the front door noticing his presence even before he made an appearance. Of course, Killian Jones had chosen that moment to pay her a visit.

Graham turned his head following the direction of her gaze. "Seriously?" He muttered looking at her again, while he shook his head in a gesture of resignation. Although his tone had a slight hint of reproach, his amused expression didn't disappear from his face.

Emma ignored her boss and focused on Killian, who had stepped into the office as if he owned the place, despite having passed by only a couple of times in the last two weeks. He carried a cardboard tray in his hand, with several cups of coffee to go.

His face split into a wide smile the moment their eyes met, but before reaching her desk, he handed a cup of coffee to Leroy and chatted with him for a few seconds. Emma could not help but be surprised at how well Killian had fit into her small group of acquaintances. Even the usually grumpy Leroy was able to soften his temper in front of him.

Killian performed the same action with Graham but their conversation was somewhat more extensive. It was evident they got along well. Having common interests helped in that regard since they could spend hours talking about Europe and sports.

Finally, he approached her desk while shooting her a beaming grin, causing her heart to skip and her stomach to flop. Bastard!

"Good morning, love." He handed her one of the cups as he grabbed a chair and sat next to her. "Here you go, your hot chocolate, with whipped cream and cinnamon." Then he pulled a package out of the bag he was carrying. "And this is for later, for your surveillance session."

Emma almost tore the package from his hands, eager to know its contents. Her mouth watered as she unwrapped the package and found two delicious bear claws. God! How was it possible that he knew her so well in such a short time?

"Two, why two?" She asked before taking a bite of one of them.

"Because I was pretty sure you would eat one of them now." He grinned at her raising one of his eyebrows. "And from what I see, I wasn't wrong." Emma rolled her eyes but she didn't have time to counterattack with a retort as Kilian got ahead of her. His eyes went wide as he patted his forehead with one hand, as if he had just remembered something.

"I almost forgot. Do you have any plans for tonight, love?"

Emma leaned against the back of her chair, arms crossed over her chest and an arched eyebrow. "It depends. If I remember correctly today is Friday. Fringe Friday , right?”

"Aye, but maybe you prefer something different tonight." He slid two pieces of cardboard in her direction, appearing to be some kind of ticket.

Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened in surprise when she read the contents. Indeed, they were two tickets for an outdoor concert of a Queen tribute band . Just tonight.

"Oh my God, really? For tonight?" Emma had to suppress the urge to scream excitedly or pull him into a kiss or both, because the truth was that she hadn't attended an event of this kind in, well, ever. She could feel herself getting overwhelmed, and instinctively resorted to teasing him in self-preservation. "I wonder if Ruby will be free tonight, or maybe Graham."

Killian blinked, his smile faltering, as his hand reached behind his ear. "Well..." He trailed off, the disappointment written all over his face.

"Just kidding." She reassured him, getting the desired effect, since he let out a sigh of relief. Did he really think that she would want to go with someone other than him? "By the way, how did you get them?"

"I have my contacts." His lips curled into a wide smirk, showing he had regained his confidence. Then he patted the desk and stood up. "I gotta go now. Shall I pick you up at seven?"

Emma nodded, her lips drawing a smile of gratitude. "Thank you."

"Anytime love." He winked at her. After saying goodbye to her two coworkers, he finally disappeared through the door.

She leaned against the back of her seat, sliding the two tickets between her fingers. It was at that moment when she realized that today was the deadline, tomorrow she would have to make a decision. Her heart had decided practically from the very moment that the deal was established. And that decision was reaffirmed day after day. Her mind, however, was still struggling. Whatever would happen, she couldn’t think of a better way to end this almost perfect month than by listening to her favorite songs live with the best possible company. She would have time to decide. Tomorrow.

Emma paced up and down her bedroom, in an attempt to calm the nerves that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

The previous stake-out had given her a lot of time to think, maybe too much, making her increasingly nervous. The reason was not to spend more time with Killian, not even the end of the deal. She had become a bundle of nerves because of the event itself.

It was a silly thing, really, but when you have spent most of your life alone, without going to social events, you feel like the child who is going to school for the first time. At least that was happening to her right now. It was an absurd thought since she was going to be surrounded by a crowd, no one would pay attention to her. But nerves had left her paralyzed to the point of being unable to make a decision as to the outfit. She let out a groan of frustration as she cursed herself for her pathetic former life.

But she was not alone anymore. She had a small group of friends she could count on. And desperate situations would require desperate measures. Ruby could be of help in the wardrobe department.

Emma: I need help. What should I wear to go to a concert?

Ruby: What kind of concert?

Emma: Queen tribute band. Outdoor.

Ruby: You going with Killian?

Emma: What does that have to do with my choice of clothes?

Ruby: That has everything to do with, honey.

Emma rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. Time was racing and she had not even got dressed. After letting out a sigh of resignation, she slid her fingers down the keyboard, typing her answer.

Emma: Okay, yes, I'm going with Killian.

Ruby: Great! You have to choose comfortable clothes and shoes, but with a sexy point, that will drive Killian crazy.

Emma: Could you be more specific?

Ruby: Tight jeans and something sleeveless. Don't wear heels.

Sleeveless...Yes! Emma remembered a black halter top with a scooped neckline that she had bought a couple of years ago. Not just sleeveless but backless. It was sexy but still comfortable. And Killian wouldn't know what had hit him. First problem solved.

Emma: Thanks, Ruby, I owe you one.

Ruby: Anytime. Have fun! Be a very bad girl. And tell me all the details tomorrow.

Emma locked the screen of her phone and hurriedly searched her closet for the chosen outfit. She also opted for low ankle boots and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. When she was applying the final makeup touches, someone knocked on her door. Emma took two deep breaths and looked at the mirror for the last time. Her reflection offered a reassuring smile. After nodding subtly, she picked up her purse and went to meet Killian.

All her worries evaporated the moment she saw Killian. His eyes widened slightly as he gave her an appreciative look, stopping perhaps more than necessary at her cleavage.

"You look perfect for the occasion, Swan."

"Thank you, you are not so bad yourself." And it was true. He had chosen jeans and a printed shirt with the iconic image of Freddie's silhouette with his fist held high. — What a nerd — It was evident that he had made an effort to comb his hair, but even so, she felt the impulse to run her fingers through it. Instead, she closed the door behind her. "Shall we?"

Killian nodded, offering his hand, and they both walked toward his car with their hands clasped as her heart threatened to slip out of her rib cage. Her mind —the devil part— tried to betray her by screaming that this was a proper date. She decided to ignore that little inner voice although her worries made their appearance again at the time she got into the car.

During the drive, she stared out of the window, feeling increasingly ridiculous to be nervous because of something as banal as a concert. She could feel Killian glancing at her from time to time, even though she couldn't see him, and that in itself made her more nervous.

"I can hear you think, Swan." Killian broke the silence nonchalantly, although she detected a hint of concern in his voice.

It wasn't fair. They were supposed to go out and enjoy their favorite music and yet she was not only a bundle of nerves, but she was also worrying Killian unnecessarily. With a sigh, she decided to confess.

"It's silly, really, it's just that I feel a little stupid, because..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to collect her thoughts. "I've never been to a concert. Well, that's not quite true, I was once, with Lily. We went to a concert when we were just girls, I don't even remember which artist played because I was terrified that someone would catch us." Her lips drew a bitter smile, remembering her old friend Lily and how in the end she too had let her down, like everyone else. "Afterwards, with Neal, we were too busy making other stuff to think about going to concerts, and then..." She was aware that she was rambling but she found herself unable to stop. "And then I was left alone and it's kinda pathetic to go to a concert for yourself, isn't it?"

When she finished her self-pity speech, she held her breath and looked back out the window, waiting for Killian's reaction. When she thought Killian was going to remain silent for the rest of the trip, he surprised her with his voice full of determination.

"Well, we have work to do then. We have to make up for lost time. There's a music festival near here in two weeks. I'll buy the tickets tomorrow."

A wave of gratitude washed over her as she swallowed the lump growing in her dry throat. She blinked a couple of times, preventing the tears from spilling down her cheeks. "I would like that." She muttered, offering Killian a small smile, while she wondered if she would ever be able to compensate him for everything he was doing for her. One thing was sure, she was more than willing to help him overcome his old ghosts of the past.

He returned the smile and gave her a reassuring look, which hid a meaning full of promise. His piercing eyes were telling her, without needing words, that he was going to make sure that, if it depended on him, she could fulfill all her little dreams. "And now, since this is going to be your first real experience, we're going to make it worth it, aye?"

Killian was right. The experience was totally worth it. For the next two hours, Emma allowed herself to be carried away, enveloped by the music, joining the crowd and singing loudly until she almost tore her throat, moving to the beat of the music and sharing looks of complicity with Killian. It was an adrenaline rush, her body vibrated with excitement as a sense of self-confidence spread through her veins, making her feel capable of accomplishing everything she set out to do.

There was a small moment of weakness, though. When the first chords of "The Show Must Go On" began to sound, a wave of memories came over her. This song had been her motto for many years, something she clung to so as not to collapse when it seemed that the burden over her shoulders was too heavy.

Killian, as perceptive as ever, seemed to notice her agitation, as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, whispering the lyrics of the song in her ear along with reassuring words. "It's okay, Swan, let yourself go, enjoy the music." She closed her eyes, melting in his embrace as the two slowly swayed to the rhythm of the song.

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies

Fairytales of yesterday will grow but never die

I can fly, my friends

For the first time, she felt that she actually could fly.

When the concert was over, Killian grabbed Emma's hand and pulled her gently, guiding her through the crowd. Their hands remained intertwined even after leaving the outdoor area, while her heart beat hard due in part to the adrenaline that still ran through her veins and to the effect of his thumb gently brushing the palm of her hand.

The temperatures had dropped a little and as they moved away from the crowd she began to shiver slightly, while cursing herself for having forgotten her jacket at home. Killian was more foresighted, of course, and even before they got into the car he offered her a leather jacket that, according to him, he always kept in the back seat for emergencies. Emma did not hesitate twice and quickly wrapped herself in it, feeling the warmth spread over her body instantly.

They didn't talk much on the way back home. Kilian set the radio selecting a station with slow music while Emma settled into her seat and wrapped herself even more in his jacket. Little by little, she felt her muscles relax and her eyelids grow heavier. She didn't want to fall asleep, not at all, but maybe she could close her eyes and enjoy the trip, the comfort of the seat, the warm atmosphere, the soft rock, and Killian's humming, his voice reaching her ears like a lullaby. She would only close her eyes for a few minutes...

"Emma..."

"Swan, wake up."

Emma opened her eyes when her ears detected Killian's voice saying her name softly. She felt disoriented at first, her mind still clouded by sleep. Little by little, she became aware of her surroundings. A groan escaped her lips when she realized that they had already reached their destination. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, blinking away the last vestiges of sleep.

"Are you with me, Sleeping Beauty?" Killian asked, his eyes glittering with amusement.

Emma nodded silently, her still dry throat preventing her from uttering words aloud.

Kilian chuckled at her side. "If I didn't know you better I would think that my presence is so boring as to make you fall asleep."

Emma massaged her forehead as she let out another moan of embarrassment. "Oh god, I'm sorry, it's just that your damn car is too comfy."

"I'll take it as a compliment." He commented as he grinned at her.

She had to hold back the retort hanging on the tip of her tongue in order to suppress a yawn. She was so exhausted that her mind could not function properly. It would be better if she went to sleep before she embarrassed herself again.

Killian, as usual, seemed to read her mind. "Go to sleep, Swan, we'll talk tomorrow." At that moment his eyes widened subtly, a shadow of what seemed to be disappointment crossed his gaze. "I almost forgot I have a very busy day tomorrow and the guys and I are going out at night." He paused for a moment holding her gaze, a spark of something similar to hope appearing in his eyes. "See you on Sunday to have brunch?"

Emma then realized the meaning hidden in his words. The deadline expired today, probably had already expired, she was not even sure what time it was. If she accepted that they would see each other on Sunday, in the same way as on previous Sundays, that would mean at least that she was not going to run away. But she still had not expressed her decision out loud. She had not even made a decision yet.

"Sure, I'll call you." The words came out of her mouth before she had time to stop them, but the spark of hope in his eyes became more evident, causing her not to regret having said them. Her lips drew a reassuring smile as she held his gaze. "By the way, my first real concert has been a unique experience. Thank you, really." She felt the need to express her gratitude in some way.

"It has been a unique experience for me too, I assure you." The smile that tugged up the corners of his lips was full of affection. His gaze dipped from her eyes to her lips causing Emma to be paralyzed for a few seconds, unable to tear her gaze away from his mouth as her entire body vibrated in anticipation. When Killian leaned toward her she felt her heart stop in her chest as she closed her eyes instinctively. A slight dizziness came over her as his lips pressed gently to her cheek, dangerously close to the right corner of her lips. "Sleep well, Emma." He breathed against her skin before pulling back.

Before opening her eyes, Emma let out the breath she had been holding. Her throat had suddenly gone dry, which made it impossible to utter any words. She needed to get out of there right now before doing something that she would later regret. After smiling weakly and offering a timid nod she finally got out of the vehicle.

As she walked towards the entrance of her building she felt her knees go weak and a lingering tingling in her cheek. She realized then that she was still wearing his jacket, but she did not feel like returning and facing him again. That meant adding one more item to the list of his belongings that were now in Emma's possession. First was his phone, then his hoodie, and now his jacket. " And his heart ." Her inner voice — she wasn't sure if this time it was her inner angel or demon — didn't hesitate to remind her. " You have his heart in your hands ." She ignored that thought deliberately, but when she turned around before disappearing into the building and found that he was still waiting, that thought became more real than ever. She was holding his heart, but he had already taken hold of hers a while ago. It was a terrifying feeling in both senses.

Saturday, July 1, 2017

Despite having a busy day, Killian found a moment, between a tour with the Jolly Roger and some sailing lessons to make a video call with his family. No matter how busy he was, those conversations had been included in his daily routine a long time ago and today was not going to be an exception.

He loved talking to his family. The funny conversations with Connor and Eileen always had the ability to lift his spirits, although they left him with a longing that persisted for hours. He also loved talking to his brother and Elsa, but sometimes Liam's constant concern was hard to bear. Even so, he never failed. There would always be room for his family in his life, no matter how far away they were.

"You look good, little brother." Killian was pleasantly surprised to hear his brother, to the point that he did not even bother to correct him. It was at that moment when he realized he was smiling broadly. In fact, that smile of contentment had not disappeared from his lips since he woke up that morning.

"Does that mean everything went well yesterday with Emma?" Elsa asked without bothering to hide her excitement. Suddenly, her eyes widened in surprise. "Wait a minute, the deadline expired yesterday! Emma has already made a decision, hasn't she?"

He cursed himself internally for having the stupid occurrence of having confessed the content of the deal to both Liam and Elsa since the beginning. From that moment on he had to endure Liam's expressions of continued concern and the glimmer of emotion in Elsa's eyes every time they spoke about Emma.

"Is that true, Killian? Is that why you look so happy?" Liam asked, his voice charged with anticipation.

Killian had to suppress a groan and instead he pressed his lips together drawing a tight smile. "No, she hasn't made a decision yet." He admitted reluctantly.

"But the deadline is over, right?" Liam insisted, a frown of concern appearing on his brow.

He sighed as he squeezed his eyes with his hands. Then he looked back at the screen. "Yes, the deadline is over, but we haven't spoken about it." Before his brother could reply, he continued. "Everything is fine, though. We are going to see each other again tomorrow."

"What if Emma doesn't make a decision? What if she doesn't give you an answer?" Although Elsa maintained a soft tone, her voice hid a bit of worry while offering a tentative smile. Great ! She had always been on the pro-Emma team, but it seemed that Liam had infected her with his concern.

Killian shrugged. "That itself is a kind of decision, isn't it?"

"You're not going to ask her..." Liam's words didn't come as a question but as an affirmation.

"No, I'm not going to ask her. I'm not going to pressure her to make a decision. I don't care if she doesn't make any decisions at all. As long as she's comfortable with me I'm going to stay by her side." Although he had already raised that possibility, his speech came unexpectedly. However, as the words came out of his mouth, he was feeling increasingly confident, more determined.

"You really care about Emma." This time Liam's voice did not hide a tone of reproach or worry. It was as if he had first realized the intensity of his feelings towards her.

"I do. She makes me happy, that's all I need right now." He affirmed with determination. Her by my side it's all I need to move on. I don't care if it's as a friend or as a lover. I only need her.

"I'm so happy for you, Killian for real. And I'm sure Emma is going to make a decision soon, and that will be good for you." He thanked Elsa's words, which had, as always, a balsam effect on his agitated heart.

"I hope you know what you're doing, brother. But it's obvious that she makes you happy, that's enough for me." The barest hint of a smile crossed Liam's features, but for Killian, always used to his expression of perpetual concern in everything related to him, it meant the world.

Killian spoke a few more minutes with his family before saying goodbye with the promise that he would keep in touch and inform them about any news related to Emma.

After the talk with Liam and Elsa, he felt as if he had passed a test. However, the continued mention of Emma reminded him that they would not see each other today. He had decided last night, after seeing her disappear into her building with a flustered expression on her face, that he would bury any possible worry about her decision in the depths of his mind. Now, his whole body craving to see her, to hear her, to lose himself in her eyes. The day was going to be very long without her by his side.

Emma stirred her hot chocolate absently as she reminisced about the previous day.

"I gather from your bemused expression that the concert went well." Ruby's amused voice took Emma out of her trance. She straightened her back and pressed her lips together, schooling her features so as not to betray her emotions.

"It was alright." She commented in a nonchalant tone, suddenly very interested in the contents of her cup.

"It was alright." Ruby echoed her words with a mocking tone. "Okay, if the concert was alright, then the good part came after the concert."

Emma glared at her friend as she felt her cheeks begin to burn due to her insinuation. Even so, she lips remained stubbornly sealed.

"Oh, come on!" Ruby raised her hands in surrender. "I had to make you react in some way." She said, clearly amused by the situation. Still, she remained in silence as she took a sip of her drink. "How was your date?" Ruby insisted, this time with a softer tone.

"It wasn’t a date." Emma commented without bothering to look convincing.

"It wasn't a date." Ruby's habit of repeating her words using a different intonation was driving her crazy. "Are you aware that what you have been doing this last month it's in fact, dating?"

Emma rolled her eyes, regretting having decided to go to Granny's. She should have stayed in her apartment, in her bed, sleeping until Sunday and the possibility of seeing Killian again. "No, not like that, we go out just as friends." She insisted. She was not having this conversation now.

"Whatever..." Ruby waved her hand in front of her. "Then you prefer to continue in this way? With your " not dating "?

"It's safer." She shrugged.

"It's boring." Ruby counterattacked placing both her hands on the counter.

"Killian is not boring."

This time it was Ruby who rolled her eyes at her failed attempt to change the subject. "Okay, he is not, but think about how things could improve if you do more interesting stuff. You know what I mean." Ruby raised her eyebrow so obscenely that Emma’s cheeks blushed again.

She contemplated the possibility of running away right then and there without bothering to look back. That was something the previous Emma would have done. Run away from your problems and avoid making decisions that could affect your heart. Instead, she sighed and offered a weak explanation to Ruby. "That other stuff could complicate everything."

"Maybe... Or maybe it could make you the happiest woman on the planet. I have the impression that we could add amazing in bed to Killian's list of qualities."

Emma groaned as she covered her face with her hands, her mind playing tricks on her and imagining Killian in those kinds of activities. Damn Ruby! She didn’t need this, not when she almost fainted from a simple kiss on the cheek or when her whole body tingled, craving his touch every time they were together.

"For real now. I know that our friendship is still new, but now that I know you better, you’re like an open book, your emotions are written all over your face. I suspect that you prefer to take no decision, go for the sure way to keep him by your side but without committing to anything else. But you have to decide, Emma, he deserves it, and you deserve to give yourself this opportunity too." Ruby reached for her forearm and gave it a squeeze of encouragement.

Emma could only offer a small smile of gratitude as her heart beat frantically in her chest. Ruby was right, she had to make a decision. Tomorrow, she would talk to Killian tomorrow.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Two o'clock in the morning. Emma scrambled uneasily on the bed, pounding on the pillow to make it more comfortable and adjusting the sheets in an attempt to invite sleep. It was in vain. Still, she suppressed the urge to grab her phone for the hundredth time to check her notifications. And she succeeded. For five seconds. With a sigh of defeat, she gave up and reached for the phone. Nothing, the same as the previous times, not a single notification coming from Killian.

Emma dropped the phone on the bed and rubbed her face with her hands. She needed to sleep, desperately. Only then her mind would stop playing tricks on her, imagining different scenarios that would explain the absence of communication from Killian. Maybe he has forgotten his phone at home, or maybe it has run out of battery, or it has been stolen, he may be busy with his friends, he may have met someone ... She tried to ignore that last scenario, but for some reason, that idea remained stuck in her head. He was a single, handsome man after all…

As if that weren't enough the Angel and the Demon of her conscience decided that now was the appropriate time to have a debate. Sleep was clearly not happening any time soon.

Demon: See? If she is in this situation, only she is to blame. Angel: What are you talking about? Don't listen to that demon, Emma. Demon: She could have broken the deal before, confessing her feelings. Angel: She just wanted to be cautious. We cannot blame her considering her past. Demon: Oh, sure. That is why she is now all jealous and unable to sleep. Angel: It's not jealousy, it's just worry. Demon: Whatever.

"Enough!"

A groan of frustration escaped her mouth. She was so pathetic... She turned around once more on the bed, wrapped herself in the sheets and closed her eyes stubbornly, trying by all means to leave her mind blank. She needed some rest, not only to curb her overflowing imagination but to be able to face the decision she would make the next day.

A few hours later, Emma woke abruptly with a muffled sound that she could not identify at first. She only felt able to open one eye, the light filtered through the window telling her it was already midmorning. Her mind was still clouded by sleep so she ignored the sound and buried her head down the pillow in an attempt to go back to sleep.

The sound continued, though, this time also accompanied by a voice.

"Emma." Knock knock. "Emma." Knock knock. "Emma." Knock knock. Seriously? Was the nerd imitating Sheldon Cooper? Emma let out a groan as she tried to decide if the person on the other side of the door was actually Killian or she was in the middle of a dream. Or a nightmare.

She took two deep breaths as she tried to gain the determination needed to face Killian. She had not expected the conversation to happen so soon in the morning, when she had not even had the chance to ingest her dose of caffeine. But after the awful night she had spent, she had convinced herself that it was not wise to postpone the decision any longer.

"Here we go..." she muttered in an attempt to cheer herself up.

The first thing she noticed after opening the door was his smile, a brilliant flash of white teeth and curved lips. It was unfair, he had probably had few hours of sleep and yet here he was, looking fresh, without a hint of weariness on his face. Even worse, his eyes sparkled making his blue even more intense. Great. Just great .

"What are you doing here?" She snapped in a tone perhaps too sharp, but in her defense, neither her throat nor her mind seemed to be functioning properly yet.

"Good morning to you too, Swan." Killian ignored her abruptness and instead raised his hand holding a paper bag. "I brought breakfast." He offered with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Her brain did not work properly today, that's for sure. It's Sunday today, isn't it? Emma cocked her head slightly as she narrowed her eyes. "Breakfast? What about our brunch?"

"Oh, that." Killian's bottom lip caught between his teeth while his hand reached behind his ear. "I'm afraid there won't be brunch today. Little Leo felt a bit unwell this morning, so his parents decided it was better to stay at home."

"Oh!" Her eyebrows furrowed in concern as she stepped aside to let him in. "Poor baby, I hope it's nothing serious."

Before answering, Killian gave her a look she could not identify, but it was something akin to tenderness, perhaps? He cared for the little one, no doubt. Maybe he appreciated that she also cared? "He'll be fine, Swan, it's just a cold." He reassured her as he squeezed her arm gently. "But, I didn't want us to lose our little tradition, so as I woke up surprisingly early today despite being Sunday, I thought it was a good idea to have breakfast here."

Emma shrugged nonchalantly, although the idea of having breakfast together, in her apartment, on a Sunday morning, did nothing to calm her inner turmoil, a slight sense of uneasiness settled in the pit of her stomach. She masked her feelings, though. "You better have brought coffee, I need my dose of caffeine."

"Uh..." Emma noticed then that Killian looked away, scratching behind his ear in a nervous gesture, his cheeks in a light pink tint. "Don't think this is a complaint, because it clearly isn't, rather on the opposite, but you, uh, maybe you would rather put on some more clothes."

Her eyes widened in horror at the same moment that her brain processed what he meant. "Oh my god!" She babbled as she crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a flush creeping up from her neck to her cheeks. The moment she realized that not only had she forgotten her bra but that she was also exposing her bare legs she wanted a hole to open under her feet and swallow her. "Just ... hold on a sec." She muttered in a mortified tone, avoiding his gaze as she ran to her bedroom.

"Holy shit." She closed the door behind her quickly, leaning for a moment against the smooth surface, while covering her face with her hands. Once her breathing had calmed down enough to make her look like a normal person, she grabbed some leggings and a bra and finished dressing.

She contemplated for a moment the possibility of remaining locked in her bedroom until Killian got tired and left, but finally decided to behave as an adult and mature person. But before, she needed to make sure that she was presentable enough.

The reflection in the mirror did nothing to mitigate her embarrassment, though, rather the contrary. Her hair was a real mess and she had dark circles under her eyes due to lack of sleep. Emma grunted in annoyance, feeling increasingly ridiculous. After putting her hair up in a bun and washing her face and teeth, she finally felt confident enough to come out of hiding.

Before leaving her bedroom, she grabbed Killian's phone and held it for a moment against her chest. A kind of strange melancholy washed over her as she thought that this would probably be the last time she would hold the device in her hands. After closing her eyes for a few moments and taking two deep breaths she finally opened the door and headed towards the living room.

In her absence, Killian moved to her kitchen where he was preparing breakfast as if he owned the place. He looked up when he noticed her presence, his eyes glittering with amusement.

Before he had time to comment on anything, she shook her head, raising her index finger as a warning sign for him to keep his mouth shut. He raised an eyebrow as he opened his mouth, but Emma cut him off again. "No, don't say anything, let's pretend like what happened before..." Her voice trailed off as her hand waved in front of her. "Just forget it, okay?"

Killian raised both hands in surrender, although the funny expression didn't disappear from his face. "I was just going to say that you've got a lovely shirt, Swan."

She huffed as she grabbed the first object she caught on hand — which luckily was a kitchen towel—and threw it at his face. He easily caught it in the air, his laughter echoing throughout the kitchen.

"Come on Swan, don’t feel bad, you have nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you. It was a bit unexpected, that's all."

Emma approached the counter with a reluctant step, still not daring to hold his gaze. When Killian put a cup of steaming coffee in front of her, she finally dared to raise her eyes. Emma shook her head while an unexpected giggle came bubbling up from her chest. "You can't complain, you got quite the show, didn’t you?" Emma laughed, feeling more relaxed.

"Believe me, the best show a man could dream of." Killian said arching his eyebrows seductively. Then a chuckle escaped his lips, joining her in laughter.

Once the laughter subsided, they sat down at the kitchen counter, enjoying a quiet breakfast and a light chat. She had to admit that although this domestic scenario terrified her in a certain way, it also made her feel safe. It was a contradictory feeling, which she supposed she would have to deal with later.

"So, how was your guys night?" Emma tried to make her voice sound carefree enough, while pretending to keep busy picking up the leftovers from breakfast.

"Oh, we had a good time. You should have seen Will, he ended up singing on the bar counter." Killian grinned. "I would have sent you a picture, but I forgot the phone at home."

Oh god, I'm such an idiot! So that was the reason why she had not received any messages from him. She suppressed a sigh of relief as she made a mental note to keep all her worries at bay. She couldn't stay this way, continuously on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. If she was willing to start a relationship with Killian her fears should be left behind.

"Emma? Still with me?"

"Yeah, sorry.” She bit her lip, feeling the need to teasing him for a while.”So it's common practice for you to leave things behind, uh, especially phones... and wallets."

"Come on, Swan." His lips twisted as if he felt aggrieved. "The wallet was your fault."

"Whatever you say..." Emma decided to change the subject, still embarrassed by her behavior four weeks ago. Now that they had brought up the subject of the phone, perhaps it was time to face her decision once and for all and end the deal they had. She took two deep breaths, trying to get the necessary determination. "Speaking of phones..." She slid Killian's phone over the counter, placing it right in front of him. The moment of truth had arrived.

Killian didn't react at first, looking confused at the phone first and then at her. Little by little his brain seemed to process the information. His eyes went wide as if he were in shock and then he looked back at the phone, a shadow of hurt crossing his gaze.

"Killian..." She tried to reassure him, but he seemed lost. Shit! She was delivering this in the worst possible way. She noticed then how his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed but he continued to stare at the device, as if unable to react. "Killian, look at me." She tried to catch his attention by gently squeezing his arm.

Finally, he seemed to get out of his trance and his gaze strayed from the phone looking for hers. She had to suppress a gasp by checking the utter disappointment written all over his face. "It's not what you think." She hastened to reassure him. Her shoulders sank slightly, all the confidence she had felt a few minutes ago now vanished. But she had to do this, she owed it to him. "I'm aware that the deadline is over, and here's my answer. I'm returning your phone, but..." She paused to make sure she had his attention. "In return, I want your Fringe t-shirt and..." Her voice trailed off, as she checked to see if her words had any effect. To her relief, a spark of interest appeared in his eyes. "A date."

Emma held her breath, waiting for his definitive reaction. He still looked confused, moving his eyes from the phone to her again. "A date?"

"Yeah, you know,.. going out to dinner or something."

She could see the moment when his brain finally processed the meaning of her words. His face split into a giant smile and a new spark appeared in his eyes. Where before there was hurt and disappointment now she could only see hope and emotion. And relief. He let out a deep sigh while shaking his head. "Don't play with me like that, I almost had a heart attack, woman." He rebuked her, but the joy didn't disappear from his features.

The corners of her lips rose and her shoulders sank slightly, unable to hide her relief. "So, do you accept the deal?"

Killian closed one eye while wrinkling his nose. "I'm not sure about the t-shirt..."

"No t-shirt, no phone. It's a ransom payment, buddy, no negotiation possible." She put her hands on her hips for emphasis.

A quiet chuckle escaped his mouth. "Okay, we have a deal, but in return, I'll be in charge of organizing the date."

"What? I'm the one who asked you!"

"Aye, but I already have an idea in mind. I intend to make our perfect virtual date come true." He winked at her as he offered her a smile full of promise.

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "Are we going to relive our first date? For real this time?"

"That's my intention." He nodded.

"When?"

"Tonight?"

Emma felt her heart race, her stomach fluttering in anticipation. "Tonight." She agreed. While her eyes darted to his lips an idea came to her head expanding a liquid heat all over her body. Reliving her virtual perfect date also meant making the best kiss she had ever experienced come true. If the sensation had been so intense at the time when even their lips weren't in contact, she didn't even want to imagine what would become of her when his lips finally touched hers.

"And now, Swan, I better go, I have a date to prepare." He raised an eyebrow as his tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth in an exercise of seduction that she should already be used to. The butterflies flapping furiously in her stomach indicated otherwise, obviously.

Emma accompanied him to the front door, feeling a little dazed as she hadn't expected the date to take place that very day. And even less that they were going to relive their wonderful first virtual date. At least I won't have problems with the choice of the dress , she thought relieved as the corners of her lips lifted slightly.

Killian opened his mouth and closed it instantly, as if thinking better about what he was going to say. "See you tonight, Swan."

She nodded while offering a shy smile. He was about to turn around, when he stopped as if he had changed his mind. He approached her and, without her having time to react, his lips brushed her cheek. "Thanks for trusting me." He whispered, sending a chill down her spine as his velvety voice caressed her cheek.

Before she could react, though, he had already turned around walking down the aisle, while she stood stunned against the doorframe, feeling a lingering tingle on her cheek and an overwhelming sensation burning through her veins towards her heart, spreading warmth in her chest.

Her eyes remained fixed for a few seconds in the place where he had disappeared until she finally shook her head waking up from her trance and went back to her apartment.

A date. She had a real date. Tonight. The moment she realized the true meaning of what had just happened, she felt the beginning of a breakdown settling in her stomach. This time she wasn't alone, though. She took two deep breaths and grabbed her phone, typing furiously.

Emma: Help! We have a date!

Ruby: A date-date or a friendly date?

Emma: A real one.

Ruby: So you made a decision, didn't you?

Emma: Yeah.

Ruby: It was about time! I'll be there in ten.

A sense of relief and gratitude spread through her body as she drifted back into the kitchen in search of a new dose of caffeine. However, she stopped short when her eyes detected the object placed over the counter, a laugh bubbling in the back of her throat. "Seriously?" The idiot had left his phone again. His story repeats itself , she thought as she grabbed the phone and held it protectively against her chest.

Hopefully, the next chapter will be shorter, because it will only include their date. Well, and maybe something else... We'll see...

Thanks for reading :)

@rouhn @couldnthandleit @teamhook @malec4everr @ijustwantyoucaskett-always @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan au #call me #cs au ff #mayquita writes #my cs writings

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gloves94 · 6 years

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La Vie En Rose [Bruce Banner] 13

summary: An uncontrollable, green beast trapped inside a humble doctor. The key to this control: the white eyes of a pompous, materialistic jewel thief. Oh- and also, the world is ending. Best of luck to you both and the rest of the Avengers.

warnings: none words: 3,217 pairing: Dr. Bruce Banner x OC

“I’m sure you all must be wondering how long you’ve been in here-“ Focus spoke as she opened a door wide and stepped inside of a dark room. This had been the 4th door in which they walked through...

“Just a couple of eternities.” Of course Stark couldn’t hold his tongue.

Focus shook her head and rolled her eyes while looking back at him.

“Actually,” she began in a matter of fact tone. It has been but mere milliseconds. Your physical bodies are still free falling in the real world.” “How is that possible?” Natasha asked almost on behalf of everyone. “You forget this isn’t a physical reality... It’s almost like a dream. You are never sure how it first starts or how it ends. All you know is that it happened.”

Suddenly the attention of the Avengers was grasped by a pale light at the end of the room.

“Where are we now?” Thor asked as they approached the light. As they did they realized it was a massive cinema screen and that the light was actually a film projecting against it. “Is this- a cinema?” Steve asked perplexed.

As they approached the screen they noted that the cinema room even had velvet sofa seats for its guests. There was another embodiment of Merrill watching the film with a bored expression on her dull face.

Bruce eyed the woman sitting down carefully. All of these entities, they were fragments of Merrill. Not wholesome nor incomplete, simple two-dimensional characteristics of what composed her id. “Almost- it’s a way we can understand how memories are viewed inside of the mind..” She nodded her head towards the sitting woman in the room. “That’s Nostalgia.”

Nostalgia yawned at what appeared to be clips of Breakfast at Tiffany’s and clicked what appeared to be a control remote. The scene turned into a plate of beignets and French pressed coffee.

They all sat and observed snippets of St. Paul’s life. A birthday cake. Death of a pet. The first day of school-

“Wait-“ said Natasha suddenly. “Is that-?”

There was a woman in the film. Actually- It was an image of her.

“You came out really well,” the woman spoke. The film they were watching was made from St. Paul’s perspective.“Just remember- you can do better than 4thplace. Try harder next time.”

The photograph was a family picture. There was a young girl that appeared to be in her first years of elementary school. Behind her standing was a woman with light brown hair, opposite a dull man with tired eyes and a scraggly beard. Suddenly the photograph shrunk away and replaced was the woman’s face.

“St. Paul’s mother. There is no record of this woman.” Natasha continued. She observed the peculiar features the woman had and attempted to memorize them. She noted the poor resemblance between the woman and her daughter. She noticed the way her dark eyes watched her child's reaction. “No record?” Banner asked both of his eyebrows furrowed. He also noted that there wasn’t much of a resemblance between them.

“All we know of Merrill’s family is that she was raised by a man with questionable paternity named: Michael St. Paul, he worked at a photography studio in Providence, Rhode Island. There is nothing particularly remarkable about his life."

The scene suddenly changed and Tony appeared on the screen. The screen showed Tony spraying a bottle of champagne on what appeared to be a luxurious private cruise. The ocean blue stretched beyond the horizon. Stark wore sunglasses and a broad grin on his face as he laughed. St. Paul's laughter could be heard too. All eyes turned to look at the Iron Man who was watching himself on the screen with a serious expression.

"What?" He scoffed in a defensive tone as he turned to face the rest of the group. "I was under a trance," he excused while crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, you do look pretty happy…" Focus muttered under her breath.

"We're just wasting our time here!" Steve suddenly rose to his feet. "And where do you reckon we should go, Einstein?" Stark retorted, his eyes gluing themselves to the screen once again. "She could be in any of the other doors," Thor added.

"Can you keep it down?" Nostalgia turned around and glared with an annoyed look on her face.

The group stopped and looked at her for a moment. They proceeded to ignore her.

"There have got to be at least hundreds of doors in this place. It's a maze." Banner reasoned. He ran a hand over his hair anxiously. His brain was rattling the probabilities and algorithms of these doors. Certainly, there had to be a way out. "So what do you reckon, we split up and look for clues? This isn't Scooby Doo," Tony bit back. Banner rolled his eyes at his fellow scientist. "We should-" Natasha began.

"Can you please shut up?" Nostalgia snapped. The screen didn't stop playing. She turned around and glared at the Avengers with a scowl on her face.

Once again she was ignored, and her voice was drowned out by the group's bickering in the theater. Loki simply sat on the edge. He paid no mind to the arguing and instead kept his attention on the screen before him. He scrutinized every detail he could about this woman's life.

"Who is this Doo you speak of?" Thor whispered to Hawkeye who simply shrugged off the Scooby Doo reference. Loki rolled his eyes at his older brother. "Oh, Scooby Doo is a television show-" Focus began elaborated for the Nordic god.

"Goodness!" Nostalgia stood on to of the navy blue cinema seat. "Can I watch my movies in peace? You all are the worst type of people to watch a movie with!" She exclaimed clearly aggravated.

"What are you going to do about it?" Focus asked with both of her eyes starring sharply at her other self. "You know what-" Nostalgia said walking towards the screen. The projector light above reflected on her eyes as the cruise vacation continued. "I can't stand having you all inside of here. And neither can the others. It's overwhelming." She huffed. Bending down she pulled on the projector screen and it jumped to the roof revealing a door behind it.

Unlike the other doors, this one was brown and looked old and used.

"She's behind there. Now get out of my theater!" Nostalgia screeched. Her face red and both of her fists round. Everyone stood silent. "Out!" She repeated in an angry shout pointing the direction.

"She really hates it when we disturb her movies," Logic muttered as she followed to the door.

"This is it," Hawkeye said.

Captain America lead the group and reached for the handle. He tested the cool brass on his hand, so far it was safe. He opened the door and before him was nothing but darkness. Taking a deep breath, he stepped in. The Avengers followed so did their prisoner Loki and the embodiment of Focus. As soon as the door was shut behind them it vanished into thin air.

The group stood in silence for a minute. Despite the darkness, they could see each other illuminated clear as day.

"Now what?" Stark echoed into the darkness before the group. "Is this what your girlfriend thinks of on an average day Banner?" "She's not my girlfriend!" The other protested, despite this, the pink tint on his cheeks was noticeable. Focus chortled, something about the situation appeared humorous to her.

Just as she did the floor beneath them began to quake. The Avengers assumed fighting position. However instead the floor tilted in a horizontal position. The group was sent sliding until they were in mid-air. With a harsh landing, it seemed as if they were all crashing into an alternate reality.

They landed in three different groups.

Iron Man, Thor, and Captain America were trapped together. Inside of a separate box were Hawkeye, Natasha, and Logic and in the last were Loki and Bruce.

"What is this?" Thor shouted his thunderous voice boomed and echoed the maze.

The others wondered the same question. It appeared that each group was trapped in its own cleverly crafted maze.

"How do we get out of here?" Focus asked concerned as she eyed the walls around her. Her glimmering eyes trailed up where another maze formed in the roof of their heads. A bead of sweat formed on Clint's temple. Natasha's jaw clenched.

"Isn't that-" Bruce commented as he looked up, or down, at the figures in the maze below them. There they were, Tony, Steve and Thor already bickering.

His mind ran wild. There seemed to be no time, reason or logic in this place. What was this place? A mental state? Another dimension? This wasn't real. There had to be a way out of here. He was sure of it. With the combined knowledge of his many Ph.D's, he would figure a solution out.

"We should go this way," Tony said as he headed down one way. "No. Rules dictate that in order to find a way out of a maze one must stick to the right." Steve argued. "Halt and hold your tongue. We must stick together." Thor attempted to convince the disputing duo.

Bruce noticed that Loki simply shrugged and sat on a corner of the squared room. The walls were dull and made of black marble, so was the floor. There was no smell and the ambiance was cold. If there was no time, then that meant the laws of physics did not apply to this space. The God of Mischief appeared to be enjoying by the bickering and the struggle everyone had to endure. He didn't want to bother with Loki, the way he looked at him gave him the creeps.

Natasha, Clint, and Focus began venturing their way through the dense maze. When suddenly they heard something rumbling next to them. Both managed to duck before a ball of fire blasted above their head. Focus vanished before their eyes.

"Watch out for the traps!" The Black Widow warned.

Tony heard something zoom past him, the Captain pulled him to the side as a dozen arrows shot out from the wall. Bruce peeked out of the hallway. There didn't seem to be any traps. Loki remained behind in the cube enjoying himself. Bruce walked the dark hallway alone.

If there were no physics in this room… He glanced at the wall next to him. Could he perhaps- He leaped towards the wall hoping to prove his hypothesis and walk horizontally. Instead, he slipped and hit the back of his head. He lay in the floor aching. This had been a bad idea. He decided to shut his eyes for a brief moment. The marble floor felt cool under his touch.

"Ouch," he painfully moaned at the former impact.

He lay in the floor for a moment taking in the coolness beneath him when suddenly he felt a rumble approaching. The floor beneath his prints trembled; by the time Bruce realized what was coming it was too late. Tripping on his jump he looked back over his shoulder and pumped his legs to run as far as they could take him. Rolling behind him was a ghastly marble spike ball, at least the size of three elephants. The Spiked ball covered the hallway and was engulfed in flames. He could feel the intense heat creeping on the nape of his neck. Sweat built on his temple, his breathing was ragged. Loki was nowhere to be seen.

"Banner!" Shouted Natasha from one of the sides of the maze. However, when she did the hallway shut blocking off an entry and exit way. Spikes appeared and the walls came zooming in. The same happened to the Captain's group. However, there were no spikes.

"Everybody! Stay calm!" He called out.

Moments after he said those words they became concrete. The words in heavy, glossy white covered slammed next to him making him jump. The marble floor had been dented due to the overbearing weight of his words. "In Odin's name-" mumbled Thor. "Woah," added Stark.

Before long, both of their words materialized cramming the small space where they stood.

"Everyone. Quiet!"

Even the exclamation point materialized before them.

'There is no way that this can be real!' Dr. Banner thought as he ran for his life. He swerved and slid in every corner with every opportunity he had. He quickly dove into a hole in the wall and avoided the flaming ball. Stepping out he exhaled. He couldn't remember when had been the last time he had been under such a heavy amount of stress. Fortunately, there would be no turning involved.

He glanced up at the bickering trio and saw how their loaded words crowded the small room where they stood. He saw how Natasha and flint were attempting to climb up the closing room. He saw the flaming ball returning down the hallway.

'Not again!'

Bruce missed a step, slipping on the trail of sweat he left behind and tumbled to the floor hitting his head. He looked back and managed to crawl before becoming death loomed just around the corner.

He shut his eyes tightly and braced himself. It was what he had wished for countless of times. Death. Yet, for some reason, he wasn't ready to welcome it, and it didn't come to him.

Not feeling the painful blast of heat or the painful feeling of his bones being grinded. He opened his eyes and blinked twice perplexed as to how he had survived that encounter. Where was he now? Once again, he was in a dark room. There was barely any light in this one. The floor beneath him was made of old wood and there was nothing besides a darkness which appeared to stretch infinite before him.

Then something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. In the nearby distance stood a man he was holding something. He looked closely. It was Loki. Merrill St. Paul lay limp in his arm. Caught off-guard Bruce gave a step backward in hesitation, which was when the god of Mischief turned to face him. Was he imagining this? When he saw the crooked grin that made way to Loki's thin lips, that's when he knew.

"Loki!" he growled.

The man in the green robes simply tossed the body to the side. Without thinking it twice he rushed to St. Paul's side.

"Stay away from her!" Bruce lifted the groggy woman whose eyes narrowed as she glared at the Asgardian god.

"Enchantress, join me," Loki said stretching out a hand towards the woman. "Together we will unleash the fury of a hundred Ragnaroks on this vermin of a species."

"I am part of that 'vermin' you Norse idiot." she scoffed before rising to her feet with the help of Dr. Banner.

"I will grant you superhuman abilities," Loki continued his bribe. His gray eyes gleamed as his smirk grew wider. Bruce looked at St. Paul's angry features. The way her nose crinkled and her eyes buried under her scowling eyebrows.

Regardless, the woman considered it.

"I know what your deepest wants and desires are Midgardian… You will be a queen whose power and glory will stretch beyond the realm of this pitiful world."

Merrill saw it. She saw the perfect world at her feet. Loki by her side ruling with a strong and stern fist. Her eyes momentarily met Bruce's if he hadn't been able to do it-

She approached the god.

"Merrill, don't do it." She felt Bruce's sturdy hands reach for her arms. One held her arm in a firm grip, the other wrapped around her hand. She refused to look at him. Loki's grin widened as he stretched his arms to welcome the woman who would be his queen to his side. "It's all a trick." Banner licked his lips anxiously. "And even if it isn't. You're better than that. Than him!" "Leave me alone!" The woman pulled her arm away from him. Regardless he didn't release her hand from his grip. "You missed your chance, Bruce," she tossed back still struggling. "I won't let you!" He said in a more stern tone. He pulled the woman to him and wrapped his arms around her body holding her still. Loki observed curiously. Part of him was annoyed, but the other part enjoyed the dramatic situation.

She squirmed and struggled. "Let me go!" She stomped on his foot with the bottom of her heel. In pain, he emitted a hissing noise. However, his grip didn't loosen.

"Are you done?" He asked as he shook her body. "With you? Yes!" She spat back with a frustrated huff. "I meant with your childish tantrum" His dark eyes were sharp as they glared into her naturally icy blue ones. She felt vulnerable under his intense gaze and his menacing tone. Her body relaxed in his arms his grip didn't.

"Merrill, I know you're not wholly selfish. You've done wrong. See it. Acknowledge it. Please… stop before thing get worse."

She avoided his gaze and looked down at her feet.

"It's not too late to undo what you've done," Bruce added in a softer tone. She looked at him carefully. Her free hand reached for his face and she stroked it gently. He didn't even see when she leaned in and planted a firm kiss on his cheek.

"Really?" Loki droned from across the room. Uncomfortable by the public display of affection.

"Stay out of my head!" She suddenly roared as she marched towards him. She could hear his voice in her head, murmuring temptations, playing on her deepest wants and fears. She didn't know what she was going to do to him when she reached him.

"I am already in your head," Loki chuckled as he stepped forward.

He was quite literally.

"All of us are," Captain America suddenly added as he stepped into the picture. "Loki!" Thor called.

"How?" Bruce asked perplexed. "We figured it out," Natasha said. "The moment we gave in and stopped fighting, that's when we passed through."

It made sense. The minute that Dr. Banner had been abolished. Well, that's when he suddenly appeared in the core chamber of St. Paul's mind.

"Merrill. Let us go." Tony said. His eyes were hard. His usual wistful tone was gone. The Avengers approached her, circling around her. She backed into Dr. Banner's side. His hand wrapped around hers once again. His gaze remained focused on the Avengers. In the absence of her touch, he turned and saw that she was stepping away from him.

"No more running," Natasha said. "No more hiding," Clint added as they both approached the woman with a threatening gaze.

St. Paul's eyes darted around the room for an escape. There was none. Her mind raced thinking of a Plan B, C, D all the way to Z. There had to be a way out. There was always a way out.

She snapped her fingers and in a blink of an eye, the impact was real. St. Paul felt the impact of the cold marble floor beneath her right cheek. At the same time, the Avengers resumed their free-falling positions and crashed back into reality.

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swagchaosarcade · 4 years

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How to remove Apple Warning Alert from Mac?

What is Apple Warning Alert?

'Apple Warning Alert' is a fake error messaged displayed by a malicious website to which users are redirected by various potentially unwanted programs (PUPs). These programs are known to infiltrate systems without consent. In addition, they continually record user-system information relating to web browsing activity and deliver intrusive online advertisements.

The 'Apple Warning Alert' error states that the system is infected with a type of spyware/malware. It also states that this virus poses a direct threat to privacy (logins/passwords, banking details, etc. might be stolen) and users must eliminate the risk immediately by contacting 'expert engineers' via a telephone number ('1-800-796-7125') provided. These 'engineers' then supposedly guide victims through the malware removal process. Be aware, however, that 'Apple Warning Alert' is fake and has nothing to do with Apple. This error is a merely a scam - cyber criminals claim to be computer technicians and attempt to monetize 'services' that are not required by users. The malware does not exist and, therefore, 'Apple Warning Alert' error should be ignored. You can remove it by closing the web browser. Furthermore, PUPs continually record browsing activity by gathering various user-system information that might be personally identifiable. PUP developers collect IP addresses, website URLs visited, pages viewed, queries entered into search engines, and other similar data. They sell this private information to third parties (potentially, cyber criminals) who also aim to generate revenue by misusing personal details. This behavior can lead to serious privacy issues or even identity theft. Another downside is display of intrusive online advertisements. PUPs employ various tools that enable placement of third party graphical content on any site. Therefore, displayed ads (pop-ups, coupons, banners, etc.) often conceal underlying content, thereby significantly diminishing the browsing experience. In addition, the ads might run scripts that download and install other PUPs or even viruses. Therefore, even accidental clicks can result in high-risk computer infections. For these reasons, all PUPs should be uninstalled immediately.

Threat Summary:Name'Apple Warning Alert' virusThreat TypeMac malware, Mac virusSymptomsYour Mac became slower than normal, you see unwanted pop-up ads, you get redirected to shady websites.Distribution methodsDeceptive pop-up ads, free software installers (bundling), fake flash player installers, torrent file downloads.DamageInternet browsing tracking (potential privacy issues), displaying of unwanted ads, redirects to shady websites, loss of private information.Malware Removal (Mac)

To eliminate possible malware infections, scan your Mac with legitimate antivirus software. Our security researchers recommend using Combo Cleaner. ▼ Download Combo Cleaner for Mac To use full-featured product, you have to purchase a license for Combo Cleaner. Limited three days free trial available.

The Internet is full of deceptive websites that display fake errors similar to 'Apple Warning Alert' including, for example, YOUR MAC HAS BEEN BLOCKED, Critical Security Warning!, and Internet Security Damaged. All state that the system is infected, missing files, or damaged in other similar ways, however, they are designed only to scare and trick victims into paying for services that are not required. All PUPs are virtually identical. By offering various 'useful features', they attempt to give the impression of legitimacy, however, their only purpose is to generate revenue for the developers. Rather than providing any significant value for regular users, PUPs promote malicious websites, deliver intrusive advertisements (using the 'Pay Per Click' advertising model), and record user-system information.

How did potentially unwanted programs install on my computer?

To proliferate PUPs, developers employ the aforementioned advertisements together with a deceptive marketing method called 'bundling'. Developers know that users often rush the download and installation processes. Therefore, they conceal bundled apps within the 'Custom' or 'Advanced' options. Skipping this section and clicking various ads exposes systems to risk of infections and compromises users' privacy.

How to avoid installation of potentially unwanted applications?

Macbook Air Malware Scan

PUPs are distributed using intrusive ads and the aforementioned bundling method. Therefore, be cautious when downloading/installing software and browsing the Internet in general. Carefully analyze each download/installation step using the 'Custom' or 'Advanced' settings and opt-out of all additionally-included programs. Third party software download/installation set-ups often include additional programs - we strongly advise against using them. Note that cyber criminals spend many resources designing intrusive ads and, thus, most look genuine. Therefore, no matter how tempting the ads may seem, do not take the risk of clicking them. The main reasons for computer infections are poor knowledge and careless behavior - the key to computer safety is caution. If your computer is already infected with PUPs, we recommend running a scan with Combo Cleaner Antivirus for macOS to automatically eliminate them

Pop-up of 'Apple Warning Alert' scam:

Text presented within 'Apple Warning Alert' scam:

Apple Warning Alert Malicious Pornographic Spyware/Riskware Detected Error # 0x80027ee7 Please call us immediately at: 1-800-796-7125 Do not ignore this critical alert. If you close this page, your computer access will be disabled to prevent further damage to our network. Your computer has alerted us that it has been infected with a Pornographic Spyware and risk ware. The following information is being stolen… > Financial Data > Facebook Logins > Credit Card Details > Email Account Logins > Photos stored on this computer You must contact us immediately so that our expert engineers can walk you through the removal process over the phone to protect your identity. Please call us within the next 5 minutes to prevent your computer from being disabled or from information loss.

Instant automatic Mac malware removal:Manual threat removal might be a lengthy and complicated process that requires advanced computer skills. Combo Cleaner is a professional automatic malware removal tool that is recommended to get rid of Mac malware. Download it by clicking the button below: ▼ DOWNLOAD Combo Cleaner for MacBy downloading any software listed on this website you agree to our Privacy Policy and Terms of Use. To use full-featured product, you have to purchase a license for Combo Cleaner. Limited three days free trial available.

Quick menu:

STEP 1. Remove PUP related files and folders from OSX.

STEP 2. Remove rogue extensions from Safari.

STEP 3. Remove rogue add-ons from Google Chrome.

STEP 4. Remove potentially unwanted plug-ins from Mozilla Firefox.

Video showing how to remove adware and browser hijackers from a Mac computer:

Potentially unwanted programs removal:

Remove PUP-related potentially unwanted applications from your 'Applications' folder:

Click the Finder icon. In the Finder window, select “Applications”. In the applications folder, look for “MPlayerX”,“NicePlayer”, or other suspicious applications and drag them to the Trash. After removing the potentially unwanted application(s) that cause online ads, scan your Mac for any remaining unwanted components.

Combo Cleaner checks if your computer is infected with malware. To use full-featured product, you have to purchase a license for Combo Cleaner. Limited three days free trial available.

Remove 'apple warning alert' virus related files and folders:

Click the Finder icon, from the menu bar. Choose Go, and click Go to Folder...

Check for adware-generated files in the /Library/LaunchAgents folder:

In the Go to Folder... bar, type: /Library/LaunchAgents

In the “LaunchAgents” folder, look for any recently-added suspicious files and move them to the Trash. Examples of files generated by adware - “installmac.AppRemoval.plist”, “myppes.download.plist”, “mykotlerino.ltvbit.plist”, “kuklorest.update.plist”, etc. Adware commonly installs several files with the same string.

Check for adware generated files in the /Library/Application Support folder:

In the Go to Folder... bar, type: /Library/Application Support

In the “Application Support” folder, look for any recently-added suspicious folders. For example, “MplayerX” or “NicePlayer”, and move these folders to the Trash.

Check for adware-generated files in the ~/Library/LaunchAgents folder:

In the Go to Folder bar, type: ~/Library/LaunchAgents

Check for adware-generated files in the /Library/LaunchDaemons folder:

In the Go to Folder... bar, type: /Library/LaunchDaemons

In the “LaunchDaemons” folder, look for recently-added suspicious files. For example “com.aoudad.net-preferences.plist”, “com.myppes.net-preferences.plist”, 'com.kuklorest.net-preferences.plist”, “com.avickUpd.plist”, etc., and move them to the Trash.

Scan your Mac with Combo Cleaner:

If you have followed all the steps in the correct order you Mac should be clean of infections. To be sure your system is not infected run a scan with Combo Cleaner Antivirus. Download it HERE. After downloading the file double click combocleaner.dmg installer, in the opened window drag and drop Combo Cleaner icon on top of the Applications icon. Now open your launchpad and click on the Combo Cleaner icon. Wait until Combo Cleaner updates it's virus definition database and click 'Start Combo Scan' button.

Combo Cleaner will scan your Mac for malware infections. If the antivirus scan displays 'no threats found' - this means that you can continue with the removal guide, otherwise it's recommended to remove any found infections before continuing.

After removing files and folders generated by the adware, continue to remove rogue extensions from your Internet browsers.

'Apple Warning Alert' virus removal from Internet browsers:

Remove malicious extensions from Safari:

Remove 'apple warning alert' virus related Safari extensions:

Open Safari browser, from the menu bar, select 'Safari' and click 'Preferences...'.

In the preferences window, select 'Extensions' and look for any recently-installed suspicious extensions. When located, click the 'Uninstall' button next to it/them. Note that you can safely uninstall all extensions from your Safari browser - none are crucial for normal browser operation.

Free Malware Removal Mac

If you continue to have problems with browser redirects and unwanted advertisements - Reset Safari.

Remove malicious plug-ins from Mozilla Firefox:

Remove 'apple warning alert' virus related Mozilla Firefox add-ons:

Open your Mozilla Firefox browser. At the top right corner of the screen, click the 'Open Menu' (three horizontal lines) button. From the opened menu, choose 'Add-ons'.

Choose the 'Extensions' tab and look for any recently-installed suspicious add-ons. When located, click the 'Remove' button next to it/them. Note that you can safely uninstall all extensions from your Mozilla Firefox browser - none are crucial for normal browser operation.

If you continue to have problems with browser redirects and unwanted advertisements - Reset Mozilla Firefox.

Apple Malware Removal

Remove malicious extensions from Google Chrome:

Remove 'apple warning alert' virus related Google Chrome add-ons:

Open Google Chrome and click the 'Chrome menu' (three horizontal lines) button located in the top-right corner of the browser window. From the drop-down menu, choose 'More Tools' and select 'Extensions'.

Free Macbook Malware Removal

In the 'Extensions' window, look for any recently-installed suspicious add-ons. When located, click the 'Trash' button next to it/them. Note that you can safely uninstall all extensions from your Google Chrome browser - none are crucial for normal browser operation.

Macbook Air Malware Removal Downloads

If you continue to have problems with browser redirects and unwanted advertisements - Reset Google Chrome.

0 notes

commander-yinello · 7 years

Text

Jumin’s Birthday Party

A fic for the @juminzenweek mini event to celebrate our awesome CEO and cat lover! I’ve been sick lately so hopefully there are not too many errors in this. I hope you enjoy!

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY JUMIN!!”

The CEO got showered in confetti the second he stepped through the door. Saeyoung had made sure to add a whole bucket of glitter as well, making Jumin’s dark hair sparkle like the galaxy. Yoosung was so kind to give him a decorative napkin while Zen snorted and Jaehee facepalmed.

“This was not necessary, my birthday is not something unique compared to other days,” Jumin commented, attempting to wipe the glitter off his suit.

Of course that riled up Zen. “We went through all this trouble to host you this party, at least appreciate it, you jerk!”

The redhead continued to act like the host, ignoring it the two. “Games, cake and gifts await in this fun-tastic evening!” He waved his hand at the scene. The RFA had decided to use their party HQ to celebrate Jumin’s birthday. It was decorated with every possible streamer and balloon they could find, together with a large banner with HAPPY BIRTHDAY on it. In his mind, it was perfect.

While Jumin accepted his fate and allowed Yoosung to lead him to the table laden with purple cupcakes, MC gently poked his side.

“Psst, Saeyoung!” MC whispered. “There’s a problem!”

“Houston, we have a problem! What kind?”

“We don’t have a gift for Jumin.”

Saeyoung gasped. That was a problem indeed. “What happened to buying the super deluxe gold-plated bowl?”

“Too expensive. Also Yoosung said Jumin might have it already.”

“Good point.” Saeyoung pondered. “You guys think of something, and I’ll distract him in the meantime!”

“How?” MC immediately knew she said a silly thing as Saeyoung pranced towards the large plastic crate in the corner. When he found his treasure, he ran to the middle of the group, once again grabbing all the attention.

“As promised, the fun and games! Jumin, as the birthday boy you’re expected to participate.” He held up the color box for all to see.

“Twister?! Are you serious?”

Why was Zen forever the party pooper? “Why, think you can’t win? And here I thought you exercised so much,” he grinned, defying the albino.

“Please! I’ll win with my eyes closed!” Zen already discarded his jacket and his shoes while Saeyoung put the plastic tarp on the floor, grinning. Tsunderes were so predictable.

Jumin watched Zen with fascination as the actor stood proudly on the tiny tarp.

“How does one do this… twister?” he asked as Yoosung and MC took off their shoes as well.

“When I call out a body part and a color, it is everyone’s duty to put said body part on the right color dot. You can only move that body part if it is called again, otherwise you must keep it on that dot. If you fail to do so or fall, you lose,” Saeyoung explained.

It was doubtful that Jumin understood, but he dutifully followed the others. No matter how much MC begged, Jaehee refused to participate, conveniently excusing herself to check on the birthday cake. Naturally, as the game master, Saeyoung didn’t join either, leaving four of the RFA to battle it out.

Saeyoung spun the wheel before anyone got to change their mind. “Right hand red!”

Yoosung and MC took the easy route by kneeling but Zen had to show off and touch a red dot further from him, grinning smugly as his body stretched over the tarp and giving the other contenders are harder time reaching things. Jumin wasn’t deterred and grabbed a dot close to Zen. That caused the actor to drop his grin.

“Dude, personal space!” he said as Jumin’s crouched body hovered near him.

“Seriously Zen?” Yoosung remarked quite aptly.

Saeyoung watched the scene unfold and a wicked idea came to mind. He pretended to spin the wheel. “Left foot yellow!”

MC got mixed up and accidentally moved her foot to the wrong dot, taking her out of the game early. Being on the edge of the tarp, Jumin had no choice to move his foot over Zen’s leg to reach the yellow dot. Zen wobbled upon this yet impressively held his balance.

“I thought dancers were supposed to be agile,” Jumin sassed the younger albino, who was turning red.

“Your shittiness caught me off-guard! I’ll still win this!”

“Left hand blue!”

Yoosung misplaced his hand and ended on his butt, though no one noticed as everyone was focused on the last two. Jumin was now hovering above Zen’s body, his body a suspended bridge to match Zen’s reversed one. It was so hard for Saeyoung not to laugh, Zen’s emotional battle between saving his dignity or wanting victory displayed on his face.

“You’re doing this on purpose!!” the albino screeched.

“Come now Zen, you know I’m not the game master.” Jumin didn’t seem to mind this predicament at all. The redhead found this very interesting.

“Shut up, shut up!!”

There was one more thing he could do to get the bickering duo to move even closer. How could he not choose that? “Right hand green.”

It was a lovely thing when people did exactly what he predicted. Jumin moved the hand that was near the edge to the one on the other side of Zen’s head, causing him to perfectly lean over Zen. Zen’s brain short-circuited, staring only at the CEO, his face redder than the dots underneath him.

“No protest this time? I guess you don’t mind this, do you?”

“H-have you gone mad?!” Zen yelled, but his arms gave way and he fell flat on his back.

“Hurray, Jumin wins!” MC cheered.

Saeyoung pouted. Couldn’t Zen have held on a little longer? There were so many more compromising positions he wanted to put them in!

“Cake’s here!” Yoosung pointed to Jaehee entering the room with a large cake in her hands. The assistant took one look at the group and looked relieved to have missed the ‘fun’. Zen hastily scrambled to get away while Jumin calmly got up and put on his shoes.

Soon most RFA members were busy with the cake, preferring to eat it over singing the standard birthday song, some of them still shoe-less. Seeing Zen sitting on the floor angry and grumbling how Jumin didn’t play fair, gave Saeyoung another brilliant idea. He tapped MC on her shoulder.

“I know what we can give Jumin,” he whispered.

“Oh?” she asked and followed Saeyoung’s gaze to a certain man. “Oh! But won’t that just make them both really angry? Especially Zen?”

“Maybe. Maybe we’ll have to run for our lives. But it’s worth it.”

“Agreed.”

They both cackled and rubbed their hands together as they approached the unsuspecting albino.

***

“Tada! Enjoy!”

Jumin had already been suspicious when Zen, Saeyoung and MC had gone missing while Assistant Kang had cut the cake. Even more when two of them returned, albino-less. Tripling when they asked him to follow them to a unique, RFA-only gift.

The moment he stepped into the side room, the two closed the door behind him and locked it, giggling like maniacs. In the room Zen sat on the couch, his body wrapped in a large red ribbon, accompanied with a big curly bow on his head.

Jumin couldn’t help but smile. A unique gift indeed, albeit a little silly.

Zen faintly struggled with his ribbon bindings. His blush had dissipated a bit since the twister game. “I did not agree to this!”

“But you do look very good.” Jumin joined Zen on the couch, gingerly putting a lock of hair behind Zen’s ear. Zen’s blush returned, but this time there were no fake glares. “Does this mean Saeyoung and MC know?”

“I doubt it, but you’re doing a very poor job of hiding your feelings,” Zen said, following Jumin’s hand as it trailed down from his head towards his thigh. A quiver ran through the actor’s body.

“I can’t help it. Besides, Saeyoung obviously rigged the game.”

Zen frowned. “When we get out of here, I’m going to punch that little pervert.”

“Fair enough. In the meantime, how about I make the most of my ‘gift’?” Jumin leaned in, hearing Zen’s breath quicken.

“Don’t you want to save this for tonight?” Zen whispered, his body language telling Jumin not to stop.

“It’s my birthday. I can indulge.”

Zen agreed in the form of a heated kiss, and Jumin smiled.

Later when they were released to eat the last slices of cake, they didn’t see a piece of ribbon dangling from Zen’s pants.

#juzen #juminzen #zumin #jumin x zen #jumin's birthday #of course I had to write juzen for his birthday #drabble #fanfiction #mystic messenger

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thatonekawaiigirl13 · 7 years

Text

Who Said Death Was Easy? [Death Note] Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Unraveling

Keiko’s POV:

Keiko followed closely behind her boyfriend as he stepped out of the hospital’s elevator. Her stomach was in knots. The night before, after Matsuda had finished taking her home, she had received a phone call from Light, explaining how he heard his father recently had suffered a heart attack. Keiko didn’t have the heart to tell him that she unfortunately witnessed it as it was happening.

Instead, she didn’t say a single word, and just continued listening to Light. He further told her that he had attempted to try and visit him in the hospital, only to be turned down by the nurse who insisted that visiting hours were over, no matter how hard he had tried to persuade her to bend the rules for him.

Light then mentioned that he wanted to try and visit him again that day, and asked if Keiko wanted to tag along with him. That way, he wouldn’t have to go alone, and his father would finally be able to meet his girlfriend, which Light explained he hoped would make his father happy.

Keiko also didn’t have the heart to explain to her boyfriend that she had already met his father a while ago, almost two months ago, to be exact. While she knew that it would be risky to go with Light to visit his father, she couldn’t turn down her boyfriend’s request. She would have felt too guilty had she said no to him, considering that she was secretly spying on him and that she had been there when his father collapsed.

Now, there they were, out of the elevator and heading towards the room where Soichiro Yagami was laying down in his hospital bed. She hoped with all of her might that somehow neither she nor Light’s father would give away the fact that they had already met before. Or the fact that they had been investigating Light together with Ryuzaki and the rest of the Task Force for the past two months.

“Hey, dad,” Light said as the two stepped inside of the hospital room. He took a seat in the chair closest to his father, and Keiko took a seat in the chair right next to his. “I’m really glad to see you’re stable. I was so worried last night, but the nurse insisted I wait until today to visit...so I did...and I hope you don’t mind; I brought a guest with me.”

Keiko watched as Mr. Yagami’s eyes flickered open. His gaze first focused on his son, then drifted over to where she was sitting. There was a blank look on his face which gave away nothing as he stared at her, and she let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Light’s father then coughed a little, and he looked back over at his son. He said, “no, no. That’s fine, Light. Any friend of yours is welcome here. It’s nice that you two came, it was getting rather boring doing nothing here...”

Light chuckled, “I’m sure, but it’s also a good thing that you aren’t doing anything right now, dad. The reason that you’re in here is because you stressed yourself out too hard, hard enough to give yourself a heart attack. You need to take a good break.”

“I suppose that’s true. However, Light, you should know by now, with my line of work, one never gets a break. Crime doesn’t sleep, so neither do I,” Light’s father replied, and focused his attention back onto Keiko, “but I digress. Anyway, who is your friend?”

Light smiled at his father, and Keiko’s heart gave a lurch as he grabbed her hand, interlocking her fingers with his, “actually, dad, she’s more than just a friend of mine…you see, I’ve been meaning to tell you but because you’ve been so busy lately, I never got the chance. This is Keiko Kagami...she’s my girlfriend.”

Keiko watched Mr. Yagami’s carefully, scrutinizing his every move for something that would give away that the two had already been introduced long before. It appeared that Light’s father was quite a good actor so far. Or perhaps he was just too tired to properly show any deep emotion. On second thought, given his father’s personality, she figured it was probably the latter.

Mr. Yagami offered Keiko a half smile, “Keiko-chan, it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you too...I, uh,” she started to say, and almost choked on her next words. She mentally cursed herself for being so dumb and hoped that Light didn’t think she was being suspicious, “um, I heard what happened. How are you feeling?”

“Well, last night wasn’t pretty. However, today I’m feeling much better,” he replied, and turned towards his son, “I’m hoping that they will let me out of here soon.”

“Not too soon, I hope,” Light said, “as I said before, you need to take a good rest.”

Keiko nodded, “yes, Yagami-san, just rest here for a while, and try to clear your head. Your son tells me you work pretty hard, so you deserve it.”

Mr. Yagami looked back over at Keiko, and gave a little sigh, looking defeated. She knew that he wished he could be anywhere else but that hospital. While he was exhausted, he was also clearly restless, but that hospital bed was best place for him at the moment.

The rest of the visit went by pretty fast. Light spent the time telling his father stories about Keiko and him, like how she was over to study with him, how he had officially asked her out, and about how both she and Light had received perfect scores on To-Oh’s entrance exam. All things his father already knew about.

The whole time she sat there, Keiko wished she could just disappear. It was awkward enough working with Light’s father under his nose, but it was even worse sitting there with Light visiting his father and having to pretend she only just met him. She was relieved when the nurse had finally popped in to scold them, saying that visiting hours had been over ten minutes ago.

/timeskip/

Later that evening, Keiko was curled up in her bed, skimming through the different channels on her television, stopping when she heard the word Kira on Sakura T.V.. At the top of the screen she could see there was a banner that read “messages from Kira, in the form of four videos”.

Even though she knew she was supposed to also be taking a break from the investigation, she couldn’t ignore something like this. There was also a chance that it was probably just a hoax but she just couldn’t take that risk.

Keiko decided to keep on watching, grabbing her notebook full of investigation notes and a pen.

“-in other words, all of the reporters and staff here at Sakura T.V. are Kira’s hostages. Aside from that, we have a professional obligation to share this message with you. I assure you that this is not a hoax and that Sakura T.V. is not airing this tape for the purposes of sensationalism,” the news anchor said, and there was a serious look on his face, as well as on the faces of the other news anchors sitting next to him.

He continued on, “a few days ago, our director here at Sakura T.V. received four tapes, and after a thorough examination, there are no doubt that they are from Kira themself. The first tape we received contained a prediction regarding the time of death of two suspected criminals who had recently been arrested. As predicted, at the exact time that Kira had specified, both men died suddenly of heart attacks yesterday morning.”

What? This isn’t like Kira...he’s never pulled a stunt like this before, so why is he doing this now? There’s no way this could be real...could it?

“Kira has instructed us to air this second tape today at exactly 5:59 p.m., and we do intend to comply with his demands. This tape should offer proof of his powers by predicting yet another death. Beyond that, we understand that it contains a message to all the people of the world from Kira….and now, the video.”

There was a shuffling noise heard in the background, but soon, the screen switched over from the news anchors faces’ to a gray background, in the middle of that was the word “Kira” written in gothic letters. As soon as the video started to play, Keiko noticed that it was of pretty poor quality.

“Ah, hem...greetings. I am Kira. If this video is being aired on April 18th at exactly 5:59 p.m. as I requested, then the time now is 5:59… and 47 seconds...48...49...please change the channel to I.O. T.V., news anchor Mr. Kento Tamura will die of a heart attack at exactly 6:00 p.m.”

As soon as the clock near Keiko’s bed turned to 6:00 p.m., she did as “Kira” instructed, and changed channels. She gave a yelp, covering her mouth as, indeed, the news anchor was hunched over in his chair, dead.

Keiko kept on watching. Now that she was sure it wasn’t a hoax, her eyes weren’t going to leave the screen until the broadcast was over. However, once the broadcast was over, she knew exactly where she was headed next, whether she was supposed to be on break or not. She couldn’t rest now, not with this. She quickly changed the channel back, feeling a little sick to her stomach.

On screen, Kira predicted the death of another news anchor, but this time Keiko didn’t change channels. She couldn’t bear to see another news anchor hunched over, and instead waited until he was finished making his predictions.

“Now that you have seen proof of my powers, you should have no trouble believing that I am Kira. People of the world, please listen to me, the last thing I want to do is kill the innocent.”

At this, Keiko couldn’t help but to snort.

“Sure you don’t,” she muttered bitterly. On the inside, her her stomach was churning, and there was a buzzing in her ears. She had to do something about this soon.

“I hate evil and love justice. I have always thought of the police as allies, not enemies. I intend to create a new, perfect world that is free from evil. If you were to join me in my mission, together I know we can make it happen...and as long as no one tries to catch me, the innocent will not be killed. Even if you don’t believe me or my ideals, as long as you do not publicize your views in the media, you will be spared. All you have to do now is be patient. I will create a better world, one that is free from evil, that we can all enjoy. Say goodbye to the world as you know it. Soon we will have a new world, a world only filled with people that are kind and honest....try to imagine it, a world where people can roam the streets, no matter what time, and not have to worry about getting mugged or shot. A world in which no woman will have to worry about being sexually assaulted on the streets after dark. No more robbers, no more murderers...you have to admit, even if you do not support me, this is what an ideal world looks like to you.”

There was a pause, and Keiko gave a sigh. While she could easily say that she would love to live in a world like that, she also knew that such a world could never exist. No matter what, criminals would continue to be born. Also there was the fact that, no matter what, murder was still murder. What Kira was doing was wrong, it didn’t matter how pure he thought his intentions were.

The broadcast wasn’t over yet, but she couldn’t sit for much longer. Especially when she saw that the view switched from the Kira video tape to a video feed taken from a camera outside of the Sakura T.V. building.

“Breaking news!” the news anchor said, “we interrupt the video tapes to bring you news that a police officer that was trying to enter the building has just collapsed, dead on the scene...this is clearly the work of Kira. Is he sending a message to people out there, telling them not to publicly oppose him? Keep watching, and we will continue playing his video soon.”

Her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest. In the middle of the screen there was a body lying on the cold, hard pavement in front of Sakura T.V.’s main entrance.

Although she had only known him for almost two months, she still felt the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Hirokazu Ukita, a dedicated and loyal member of the Task Force, was dead. Her heart ached. She bolted from her bed, and headed towards the hallway outside of her bedroom.

“Keiko-chan!” her mother called after her as she dashed out of her room and towards her front door, “you know there’s no running in the house! What on earth has gotten into you?”

Keiko stopped a moment to explain as she slipped on her tennis shoes and a light spring jacket, “sorry, mom, it’s an emergency. I have to go, I’m not sure when I will be back, so please don’t wait up for me.”

Keiko’s mother, Kotoko Kagami, gave her a strange look, “I see, you’ve been leaving me home alone an awful lot lately. I know you’re usually busy but it’s been even worse as of late...is everything okay?”

“No,” Keiko replied, a hard look on her face, “but hopefully one day, it will be...as I said, don’t wait up for me...I love you, mom.”

With that, she sprinted out of her house and onto the sidewalk. Keiko could hear her mother yelling several things after her, but she didn’t listen. She had only one goal in mind: to get to the Task Force as fast as was humanly possible. Luckily enough, the hotel that the Task Force was staying at this week was only a few blocks away from her own neighborhood, so getting there didn’t take her too long.

However, it was only when she arrived at the door to the hotel room that she realized she had left the key card, which would allow her to enter the room, at home. She resorted to banging on the door, her heart thumping like mad in her chest as she did so.

Keiko could feel herself starting to shake, she was so desperate to get inside, and she knew that she was going to burst if she had to wait any longer. All the emotions she had been holding in up until that point were now spilling out all at once. She had lost her cool composure. Her thoughts were racing. It wasn’t just Ukita’s face that was flickering through her mind, it was also that poor news anchor, and those FBI agents...all of the innocent people who had died because of Kira’s evil actions.

“It’s me!” she called out, “p-please, o-open up! I c-can’t just sit here and d-do nothing while more and m-more innocent people are d-dying!”

Fortunately, a few seconds later, she was greeted by Watari opening up the door for her. She sighed heavily in relief. As she stepped into the room she instantly felt the burning gazes of the four active members of the Task Force and the great detective.

“Kagami-san,” L snapped at her, a little too harshly for her taste. Keiko could see the determined look on his face as he walked towards her, and she closed her eyes, bracing for the lecture that she figured was about to come.

Except...it never came.

There was silence for a few seconds instead. Keiko slowly opened to eyes only to realize that she was now face to face with L, who was holding an unreadable expression while studying her face. She was sure he was scrutinizing every inch.

But why? There’s more important matters than how my face looks right now! Kira’s on the loose, probably still broadcasting who knows what to the people of the world and we just lost Ukita to him! We can’t afford to lose anyone else or waste any more time!

She opened her mouth, about to speak, when all of the sudden L tentatively reached a finger out towards her face, causing the words she was about to say to die before they even had a chance to reach her lips.

“You’re crying,” L murmured matter-of-factly, and for a moment, Keiko swore she saw a flash of genuine emotion cross his face. It left almost as quickly as it came and she watched as his finger hesitantly came closer and closer towards her upper cheek. He slowly and gently, as though she were made of porcelain, touched her face, picking up a stray tear that was rolling down her left cheek.

Keiko felt herself freeze up as the detective touched her. He inspected the teardrop, watching as it now rolled down his finger and onto the palm of his hand.

“H-huh?” Keiko stuttered out, trying to wrap her mind around what had just occurred between the two of them. One of her fingers traveled towards her face, and she caught one of her tears herself, closely examining it.

I’m...crying…? I hadn’t even realized...

Aizawa cleared his throat, breaking the sudden silence that was filling the hotel room, “uh, Ryuzaki-san…I hate to break this up...but now really isn’t...uh, we’re wasting precious time.”

“Right,” L looked up from his hand, and gave another quick unreadable glance at Keiko before focusing his attention on the stern looking police officer.

Just like that, he was back to business. The moment was over. Keiko released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

He walked back over to his desk, “please, I know that this has been an emotional night for all of us, but it would be best if we could all just remain as calm as possible. Initially, I deduced that Kira needed both a name and a face to kill. However, judging from what we’ve just seen, I’d say that it’s not entirely impossible that Kira can kill with only a face. All I know for sure is that Kira is in that T.V. station or he’s somewhere close by, in a place where he can watch everyone who enters the building. Perhaps-”

“If Kira is in the area, then isn’t that why we should get down there?” Aizawa interrupted, heading towards the door near where Keiko was still standing, his hand hovering over the handle.

L sat in his chair in front of the multiple T.V. monitors that had been set up for the investigation, “if we rush down there now, there’s a good possibility that we will all be killed. So sit back down, Aizawa-san, unless you want to become one of Kira’s victims yourself.”

“Wasn’t it you that said we would have to risk our lives to catch Kira?!” Aizawa demanded, his face now turning a deep reddish purple.

“I said what I said, but risking my life to catch Kira and doing something that I know will cost me my life are two entirely different things,” L emotionlessly replied.

“H-he’s right,” Keiko softly spoke up, drying her face with the edge of her jacket. She was no longer crying.

She took a step closer to Aizawa, staring him straight in the eyes as she said, “we already lost Ukita-san, we can’t lose anyone else. If we go down to the T.V. station, I know that we will ultimately share his fate. Instead we should stay here where it’s safe and try to formulate a new course of action.”

Aizawa sighed, taking his hand off of the door handle, and walking back towards his spot on the couch. Keiko followed him towards the couches and took a spot next to Matsuda.

The Kira recording started to play once more on the news station, “I am now awaiting a response from the police. They must decide whether or not they will help me create a better world, one free of crime. Please announce your decision on the 6 o’clock news in four days. I prepared two videos; one is to be aired if the answer is yes, one to be aired if the answer is no.”

With that, the broadcast finally ended.

However, that still wasn’t the end of it. As soon as Kira’s video tape was finished, another news report was being thrown at the viewers, “a vehicle has just driven through the front doors of the station!”

“Well...that’s one way to get into a building without being seen by Kira,” L commented.

“...but who would…do that…?” Aizawa murmured, standing up to get closer to the T.V. screens. The rest of the Task Force, Keiko included, stood up as well, trying to get as close as possible.

“Huh,” the news anchor said, and the image of the station’s broken glass doors filled the screens, “we are still outside of Sakura T.V., as you can see, a police car has just arrived.”

“So we’re not alone,” Matsuda announced, “it appears that there are other police officers out there willing to stand up to Kira.”

“Aizawa-san,” L said, “you know Deputy Director Kitamura’s cell phone number, right? Please give him a call.”

Aizawa looked a little confused, but did as he was told and dialled the number. He was about to put the phone up to his ear when L grabbed it out of his hands, “yes, hello? This is L speaking. There’s something I need you to do for me. Watch the news and you will see the police officers who are fighting hard to bring Kira to justice, or so they think they are. If you don’t take control of them as their superior, we’ll have a tragedy on our hands.”

L paused a moment, probably listening to the deputy director’s response as the anchorman visibly gasped on the news, showing yet again the scene outside of the broadcasting station, “the two police officers who rushed forward to help have suddenly collapsed on the sidewalk. I think we may be in danger ourselves! We are moving away from the scene.”

All of the sudden, there was a ringing noise from the back of the room. Keiko and the rest of the Task Force looked back to see that it was Watari’s cell phone, “it’s from Chief Yagami,” he announced.

L lifted Aizawa’s phone away from his ear and reached his hand out behind him, “please give me the phone immediately.”

Watari handed L his cell phone, and L spoke into the receiver, “Yagami-san, it’s me...so that was you in the police van….yes, but what about your condition, are you alright?...please hold the line for a second.”

He switched back to Aizawa’s phone, “Deputy Director, it was Chief Yagami that just drove into the building. Are your preparations complete?...good.”

With that, L hung up Aizawa’s phone and handed it back to him. Afterwards, he held Watari’s phone up to his ear again, “Yagami-san, please wait five minutes, after exactly five minutes have passed, I want you to walk out of the front entrance...I understand your concern, but please, trust me, you will be in safe hands...yes, see you soon…”

L closed up Watari’s phone as well, placing it on the tray Watari had left near his desk.

“There you have it,” the anchorman announced, “the police have refused to cooperate with Kira. Instead, they have shown that they are ready to fight. And, as much as I fear for my own life in saying so...this is right! And it must be done! Kira has become a threat to our very constitution and as its citizens, we must fight back.”

L swiveled his chair back around so that he now faced Keiko and the rest of the Task Force, a determined look on his face.

“And now, we wait,” he announced.

/timeskip/

“Yagami-san!” Matsuda called, jumping up as Watari helped the worn-down chief into the room, leading him over to the couches.

As he was sitting down Light’s father said, “Ryuzaki-san, I’m sorry for acting out on my own like that. I have to admit, I got a little bit carried away. Here-” he shoved a brown paper bag towards L’s chair, “the tapes and envelopes that Kira sent are all in there.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” L responded, picking up the bag and emptying out its contents.

Mr. Yagami settled into the seat, “ahh, I better rest for a minute.”

“Take all of the time you need, Yagami-san,” Keiko said, offering her boyfriend’s father a smile, “what you did just now was both reckless and brave.”

“The postmark is from Osaka,” L mused as he rifled through the stuff, “hm...interesting...Aizawa-san, could you please take these papers to the crime lab right away? I will review the tapes here with the rest of the group, and we will see if they reveal anything.”

“Yes, of course,” Aizawa said, helping L stuff the envelopes back into the bags, “I still have a couple friends down in the labs, I will make sure that they check, and then double check, everything thoroughly. You have my word.”

When Aizawa left the room, L turned to the rest of the Task Force, “now, let’s get to work. There’s a lot of investigating we have to do…”

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Thirteen

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