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outroshooky · 6 years

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riptide | ksj

⇢ genre: series (some angst, fluff)

⇢ pairing: kim seokjin x reader

⇢ word count: 2.2k

⇢ warnings: slight angst, a near drowning experience, fluff.

this work is based on the song riptide by vance joy. listen here.

I was scared of dentists and the dark

I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations

You were never sure how you became friends with Jin. It was one of those relationships where you’d been in his life as long as he could remember, and he had been in yours even longer than that. You could drop off the face of the planet for a month and pick up right where you two had left off thirty days prior.

There was a conversation you’d had ages ago on your basement floor, surrounded by rows of Polaroid pictures. He’d gotten a new camera for his birthday, and you both obsessed over it like there was no tomorrow.

“What are you afraid of? I mean, you’re practically not afraid of anything, but you’ve got to be afraid of something.”

He laughed, placing another image on the rug. “Snakes. I’ve always hated them. Legless bastards.”

“Okay, but what else are you afraid of? You’ve gotta be afraid of something else.” You poked his cheeks and he flushed pink.

“You when you’re hungry.”

You snickered. “And?” You replied, drawing out the word.

He took a deep breath. “Failure.”

Oh, all my friends are turning green

You’re the magician’s assistant in their dream

You were cuddled under his arm, watching some mindless soap opera in the dorm. It was his guilty pleasure, but frankly, it bored you to tears.

Your eyes were just about to close when someone hollered behind you and you were hit squarely in the face with something soft and downy.

You screeched, Jin jumped, and Hoseok hopped the back of the couch to get better aim at you two. Jungkook popped up from behind the couch arm, whacking Jin in the nose with a throw pillow.

“What the hell!” Jin yelped, nearly falling on top of the younger boy in surprise.

“Oh, it’s on!” You scrabbled backwards, toppling off the couch, barely missing the coffee table in the process. “Both of you are so dead!”

Oh, oh

And they come unstuck

Feathers and pillows flew across the room as you and Jin marked a defensive line behind the table. Soap opera forgotten, you fought long and hard, nearly hitting a lamp, the television, and an amused Yoongi leaning against the doorframe.

The room was trashed like you four had been drinking. The furniture was crooked and blanket fort trenches criss-crossed the carpet. As soon as you saw the lean rapper, you froze.

Jungkook’s arm was already halfway through its swing, and the projectile soared, Yoongi catching it with one hand. He cocked an eyebrow at the scene before him, folding his arms over and clucking his tongue. “Hobi, Jungkook, leave the two lovebirds alone.” He chucked the pillow at Jin, who dodged it. “And don’t forget to clean up afterwards.”

Lady, running down to the riptide

Taken away to the dark side

I wanna be your left hand man

He had taken you down to the beach for your first date, to a little inlet you’d always called your own. When you were younger, you’d challenge him to swim out as far as you both possibly could until you got scared and came back in. He’d always won, but that didn’t stop you from begging him for a rematch again and again.

You almost drowned that day. You’d joking suggested to play your old game and you had been in the lead for once, beating him by a good ten yards. A cross current wrapped itself around your legs, and you were dragged to the side and underwater by the sudden rush. You choked, salt water pouring into your lungs. It burned and you choked more, air bubbles rushing to the surface. You thought you were going to die.

Then there was someone yanking you to the surface, and he was yelling, and you were coughing and spluttering seawater. He turned you on your back and pulled you to shore, dragging you up the sand. Tear tracks mingled with sweat and he knelt over you.

You turned on your side, threw up saltwater all over his feet, and raised him a thumbs-up.

I love you when you’re singing that song and

I’ve got a lump in my throat, cause

You’re gonna sing the words wrong

Your second date was at a karaoke club, where you thoroughly embarrassed yourself and he thoroughly enjoyed watching you get flustered. You’d never sung in front of him, and he didn’t believe you when you said you couldn’t sing.

“I can’t keep track of the lyrics and stay on pitch at the same time. I’m not good at multitasking,” You explained, setting your beer down on the bar counter.

“Of course you can! I’m sure you’ll be amazing.” He flashed that killer smile, and your resolve went weak with your knees.

“Fine,” you caved. “Let’s give it a shot.”

As you sang in front of him, he thought you had the prettiest voice he’d ever heard. Never mind the professionals he performed with daily, you were your own kind of special. Yes, sometimes you did forget the words to a song, but you always remembered the melody.

When he stepped up to the machine with you for your final duet of the evening, he leaned over and kissed your cheek.

“I love you.”

There’s this movie that I think you’ll like

This guy decides to quit his job and heads to New York City

You stopped on the stoop after your third date, arms sneaking around his neck, standing on your tip-toes to come to his eye level. He gazed into your eyes, hands coming to cup your face and stroke your cheeks with his thumbs. “There’s something I have to ask you.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re already dating, and it’s a little soon for marriage, but what’s up?”

He glanced at his feet and blushed, one hand slipping into his back pocket and pulling out a silver key. “Would you move in with me?”

This cowboy’s running from himself

And she’s been living on the highest shelf

You were brushing your teeth after a late-night shower, getting ready to go to bed. He rested his forearms on the counter, hands folded over the sink. “Jagiya, do you think I’m too fat?”

You nearly spit toothpaste all over him.

“Jin, where is this coming from? You’re undeniably perfect in every way. You’re not overweight at all, and even if you were, who cares? You’re beautiful, oppa.”

He slid his hands down your arms, coming to rest at your wrists. “Thank you.”

Oh, and they come unstuck

You dozed fitfully, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. You hated being sick, and the flu was a bitch. The bed dipped with his weight as he sat down next to you. Your eyes flashed open instantly.

“How’re you doing? I brought your next dose of antibiotics.” He placed the pills on the nightstand next to a glass of water.

“Thanks,” you croaked. He smiled, leaning down and kissing your forehead.

“You’re cute.”

“No I’m n-“ you were interrupted by a bout of coughing.

“Mm, yes you are. Take your medicine and I’ll cuddle you.”

You couldn’t have taken the antibiotics any faster.

Lady, running down to the riptide

Taken away to the dark side

I wanna be your left hand man

I love you when you’re singing that song and

I’ve got a lump in my throat cause

You’re gonna sing the words wrong

He bolted upright in bed beside you, screaming a name you barely recognized through the crack in his voice. You were awake instantly, jolting up and wrapping your arms around him. “I’m here, I’m here, it’s okay.”

He cried into your shoulder, arms around you, body racking. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“What?”

“In m-my dream, you jumped off of the rock at the end of the cove and- I couldn’t stop you-“

“Shhh, Jin. I’m okay. I’d never do that, you know that. I will never let you go, okay? I’ll always be here. It’s okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.” You ran your hands through his hair, soothing him enough to stop the tears. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here in the morning.”

I just wanna, I just wanna know

If you’re gonna, if you’re gonna stay

I just gotta, I just gotta know

I can’t have it, I can’t have it any other way

You stood in the foyer of your apartment, head on his shoulder, arms around you. His suitcases were packed and waiting by the door. He pulled back and looked down at you. “Listen, baby- you don’t have to stay with me if you don’t want to. There are people out there who are around more, who can give you everything I can’t.”

This was a conversation you had with him every time he left to tour or perform. He’d be away for more than a month- the longest period of time you’d ever been apart. You were scared, but he was terrified.

“You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more in a human being. Don’t tell me there’s someone out there who can give me everything, because he’s standing right here in my arms.”

He bit his lip and hugged you tighter. A car horn honked outside. He kissed your cheek. “I love you babe, text me.”

I swear she’s destined for the screen

Closest thing to Michelle Pfeiffer that you’ve ever seen, oh

You were watching Scarface with Jin over Skype, the twelve hour time difference taking its toll on him. You shook your head as his favorite character came onscreen. “Why do you like Elvira so much? She’s just so- weird. And kind of slutty.”

He shrugged, munching popcorn absentmindedly. “She reminds me of you.”

You nearly fell over. “Sorry?”

“You’re both sexy. And sensual. Just sayin’…” His voice trailed off.

You shook your head. “Jesus.”

Silence answered you from your laptop. “Jin?”

He had put his head down on the hotel pillow and instantly fallen asleep.

You sighed, inwardly melting at how utterly adorable he was. You paused the movie and hovered over the end call button. “Goodnight, hun. I love you.”

Lady, running down to the riptide

Taken away to the dark side

I wanna be your left hand man

I love you when you’re singing that song and

I’ve got a lump in my throat cause

You’re gonna sing the words wrong

He was on tour when he had the nightmare again, except this time, he woke up screaming with Namjoon by his side, trying to quiet him down.

“Jin, Jin, calm down. Holy hell, I didn’t know you could scream that lo-“

“Call her,” he gasped at his messy-haired roommate, gesturing wildly in the direction of his phone, somewhere in the sheets.

Your ringtone went off while you were at work, and your throat tightened. He only called this late if it was an emergency.

“Hello?”

“Baby, help, please. It came back-“

“Jin-“

“I’m scared-“

“Jin. Take a deep breath. Close your eyes. What are five things you can touch?”

“Um-“ You could hear someone in the background talking. “The mattress, the phone, the duvet, the lightswitch, my headphones.”

“What are four things you can hear?”

“You, Namjoon, Jungkook hollering through the wall, and- the shower running.” His voice was beginning to calm from its frenzied tone.

“Are you okay now?”

“Yes. I think. I don’t know.”

“Listen to me, okay Jin? You’re fine. I’m fine. Nobody is coming for me, I’m not jumping off of any rocks. I’m okay. We’re okay.”

He sniffled on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, jagiya.”

You shook your head, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “It’s what I’m here for. Don’t ever be sorry.”

Oh lady, running down to the riptide

Taken away to the dark side

I wanna be your left hand man

I love you when you’re singing that song and

I’ve got a lump in my throat cause

You’re gonna sing the words wrong

With Jin away, you spent your anniversary night alone, but you didn’t mind it as much as you thought you would. You had an idea, and thus set out across town until the familiar flickering neon sign came into view. Weaving through people past the bar, you found an empty room and locked the door. You pulled out your phone and queued up Skype. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi, babe,” He peered closer towards his laptop screen. “Where are you?”

You flipped the camera around. “Take a guess.”

He grinned widely and proudly. “Are you at the karaoke bar?”

“I figured since you couldn’t be here to sing it to me, I’d sing to you the first song you ever sang to me,” you explained.

Jin’s cheeks dimpled and he blushed. “Oh, you. You’re too cute.”

You positioned your phone just so and selected a song from the karaoke list, clearing your throat. “This is going to be utter shit, and you have been warned.”

He bit his lip, heart melting, eyes welling up. “It’s okay if you can’t quite remember the lyrics, babe. You’ll never forget the melody.”

Oh lady, running down to the riptide

Taken away to the dark side

I wanna be your left hand man

I love you when you’re singing that song and

I’ve got a lump in my throat cause

You’re gonna sing the words wrong

I’ve got a lump in my throat cause

You’re gonna sing the words wrong

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robinine-blog · 7 years

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Della's treasures

I needed something fluffy, so heres Della and Donald on their way to a little family gathering.

Grandma Duck nearly always hosted family gatherings. Della and Donald had missed them desperately, attending from the other side of a video screen wasn't the same. Those years had been the hardest, separate even when stationed only a few miles apart.

It had been strange learning to live apart, and stranger still learning to live together again, it was too easy to fall into their old routines and roles, like they had never been apart. New skills and experiences, a few more sharp edges, but still Della and Donald.

There was a bundle of presents in the trunk, little things they had picked up in their travels, but the most important treasures was secure in the back seat where they both could keep an eye on them.

Della drove, while Donald fussed. It had been another easy agreement between them, Donald was too easily distracted while Della wanted the extra control.

Della watched her brother, her twin, a small smile on her face. She had been worried and stubborn and terrified he would walk away as well, even knowing in her heart that Donald never would.

The shadows in his eyes seemed lesser now. His feathers glossy after months of dullness. He smiled more, a sad sort of smile compared to before, but so much better than the empty ones.

She had made the right decision. She was sure. Terrified but sure.

This wasn't like flying through enemy fire, or one of Uncle Scrooge's treasure hunts, no, this was going to be the hardest thing she's ever done, but Donald had her back.

She turned onto the rocky path leading up to the farm, and Donald half jumped out of his seat so he could hold the little treasures steady. Della slowed and tried to avoid potholes.

Then they were there. Cousin Gus was waiting for them, to all appearances asleep on the porch, his wide brimmed hat pulled low over his face. Della shook her head in amusement, while Donald grumbled about lazy cousins sleeping through anything.

Della raised an eyebrow, and Donald blushed, scrambling out of the car and popping open the trunk.

Della stretched as she exited the car, glancing towards the barn and spying a brand new and shiny red sports car trying to hide. Oh, Donald wasn't going to be happy Gladstone beat them there.

Still, Gladstone wasn't going to be the center of attention this time. That should please Don. It was definitely going to please her.

Della passed the treasures to Donald, who settled them in the carry basket. They seemed so small and delicate as Donald handed the basket to her.

"Don…"

"Grandma will love them." Donald reassured her, pulling Della and the basket into a hug.

Della laughed self consciously, and tugged the blanket over them, guarding the little treasures from the chill in the air.

Donald took her elbow, and they walked in step up to the farmhouse. Donald snorted at Gus on the porch, but didn't say a word.

The door was unlocked, and as Della stepped in she was somehow unsurprised that both Gladstone and Fethry were sitting with tea and cake, while Grandma buzzed about the kitchen.

"Della! Donald!" Grandma Elvira exclaimed, coming in for a hug. Donald intercepted her before she could get to Della. This was why he was her favourite brother.

"Grammy?" Della said, holding her ground despite wanting to flee. "I have a bit of a surprise…" she tugged the blanket off the eggs. "May I introduce your Great grandchildren?"

"What?"

Della had to grin, as the word was exclaimed three times, a plate dropped, tea split, a quiet bang from outside, she always did love surprising her family.

"They are beautiful, my darling girl." Grandma said, gentle pride lighting her face.

Then her cousins were there, trying to look. Fethry with his quiet amazement, Gladstone with concerned amusement, and Gus with curious delight.

Donald grumbled, stopping Fethry and Gladstone from crowding too close, Gus already keeping a respectful distance.

Grandma laughed, "Boys! I'm sure Della would be happy to put them on the table so you can all see, won't you dear?"

"Gladly." Della agreed, gazing around her family and seeing none of the judgement and disapproval she had expected. Only interest and excitement.

She still had to tell Uncle Scrooge and Aunt Matilda, but this? This was enough for now.

#ducktales #della duck #donald duck #fanfic

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thatshighlyoffensive · 6 years

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That’s Highly Offensive: 2018 Golden Globes

Y’all know I only wear all black all the time, so I find the fact that Hollywood is "uniting" against whatever tonight by wearing all black to be kind of a stupid way to pussy foot around the issue, but who asked me? This should have been a night when the carpet looked the way I think it should at all times, but honestly, a lot of stuff looked makeshift and cheap to me. And WHAT was with all the skirts-over-pants nonsense?? I thought that was over. Also, forgive the overuse of the funeral garb schtick but what choice did I have?

Wow. It's rare that the first look I see ends up being the worst dressed of the night, but Debra Messing has just taken the cake, eaten it, made another cake, eaten that, made another one, and took that too. I know it's cliché but MESSing says it all. #thefacesofmeth That emerald eyeshadow and those Elvira for Family Dollar false lashes!! And WHAT is that dent in her forehead?? I’ll tell you what it is… bad Botox. Or Juvaderm. Or whatever expired baby bunny cartilage her dermo found in Karen Walker’s dumpster. Oh and also, she’s wearing the dress version of Liza’s putty kkk hood shoes and it’s all HIGHLY offensive.

Kelly Clarkson- "From Justin to King Midas" if King Midas was a lizard...

Kristin Cavallari went as 1999 Oscars Angelina Jolie but with a ballerina's bun and I'm not ok with it.

I honestly have nothing bad to say about Tracee Ellis Ross’s outfit. The phrase ‘Charmin Noir’ comes to mind, but let’s not bc you know how much I love a turban/wrap!

Meryl Streep: You bore me to tears. I like your glasses.

It seems to be literally KILLING Giuliana Rancid that she can’t ask “Who are you wearing?” bc she is incapable of NOT pointing out the fact that she’s not asking that question to every person she's interviewed. And as always, she looks like the Queen from Antz but this year her skin is a particularly orange shade of Oscar Meyer all beef frank. She also has one of the most bulbous horse hair dino ponytails I’ve ever seen. She's like the anorexic version of Starla from Napoleon Dynamite. AND HER TAN LINES! I didn't know you got those from bottled self tanner...

Catherine Zeta Jones: I am still obsessed with CZJ even after recently rewatching Ocean’s Twelve for the first time since Cat and I fell asleep in the theater. Her face, her body, her dress, her earrings, her love for her thousand year old father in law… I am fully behind all of it!

Penelope Cruz: See above. #stunning

I don't know who this woman from Outlander is but I do know she better be on her way to audition at Tweetsie Railroad.

Connie Britton: NO.

Jessica Biel and J. Tim- don’t NO ONE CARE. I don’t know one person who watched ‘The Sinner’ (most people didn’t even know what I was talking about when I asked if they’d heard of it), so the fact that she is nominated is a testament to that Sexy Back money and nothing more. Just her talking about being a producer of the show is like… We get it…you’re the only one who would pay you to be an actress anymore. PS, your arms are fabulous.

Mandy Candy Moore: Olé!

Holy shit Diane Kruger looks amazing.

Unfortunately, Sarah Paulson is one of those I feel looks like she's in something cheap. Really cheap. Like she stole a leotard from the Xanadu Mourning collection and wrapped a table cloth around herself. And I can't say I love the choppiness of her bob.

Michele Williams- I’m still not over how ridiculous you looked on Dawson’s Creek, but your pixie has grown on me over the last few years but OHMYGOD what is that shelf in the back? Lloyd Christmas called…

Seth Myers looks like the singing sword and a foot had a baby and named it Cheremy.

Jamie Chung- First of all, why are you here? Secondly, you look like the winner of a ‘Grunge Bride’ themed stripper contest sponsored by Hefty in 2002. Those shoes….

Alexis Bledel- Let’s get this out of the way: I can’t stand you. You’re a mumbler with creepy Kewpie doll eyes and mouth. But as for what you’re wearing, GASP you’re not wearing solid black so you obviously don’t care about women!! But also, you must not care about yourself either because you look like one of Ariel’s sisters and Dionysus had a baby and it came out haunted.

Why is Dave Franco wearing so much rouge????

Alison Brie- Ok, you can channel Audrey Hepburn, I guess. Although her dress does resemble my senior prom dress from Cache. Oh wait- there’s a pants leg. You’re trash.

William H. Macy: Did Grubby die? That’s the only reason I can think of for Teddy Ruxpin to show up to the Golden Globes in all black…

Gal Gadot is clearly going to an audition for "A Chorus Line" after the Globes. Why else would she steal a maitre'd's jacket and cut it in half?

Saoirse Ronan looks perfect all around. I need all of it immediately, even though I’d look more like Bruce Villanche dressed in drag doing a David Bowie tribute than her svelte awesomeness…

Eva Longoria looks like a pregnant Sharpie.

It took me a solid 3 seconds & a glance at the caption to figure out I was looking at Halle Berry and not some mixed berry bag of Skittles from a prom themed episode of the CW’s Gossip Girl revival. And her bangs look gross and ridiculous. #whywontsheage??

I take it back: Reese Witherspoon looks like the pregnant Sharpie. Or maybe her daughter has decided to become a fashion designer and this was her first foray into an origami—inspired collection? #blacktobasics

Nicole Kidman (or Nicky Kickin it in the Moulin Rouge, as Jack McFarland calls her) looks flawless, as always. The one negative thing I will say is that I find flutter fly cap sleeves to be among the most offensive things in adult female fashion (mainly because the only humans that can pull them off are pre-teens, anorexics and Kate Moss (not that she’d ever wear them).

Viola Davis wins everything. Omg that hair and makeup and jewelry and dress. ⚰️⚰️⚰️

Did Zac-without-a-K Efron want people to mistake him for Milo Ventimiglia? Is that the reason for the mustache? Why is he even there? GASP! Are they already remaking High School Musical (because you know that’s in the works…) with him starring as Troy again?!? #prayerhands

Why exactly is Naomi Campbell at the Golden Globes, must less in a piece from the never-to-be-seen sketches Vivienne Westwood did for Guy Richie’s new pandering remake starring Madonna as Herlock Holmes?

Lily James- You are gorgeous perfection and I mean that because anyone that stars in a live action Disney remake is automatically on my shit list (I’m looking at you, Emmas Stone and Watson…) but what the actual hell are you wearing? You look like a Project Runway contestant’s submission on the theme “Maleficent’s entrance to the party.”

Octavia Spencer looks like the teacher who got to play Glinda’s role in a #metoo fundraising, high school production of Wicked after the lead was stricken with mono.

Greta Gerwig- I’m tempted to allow it, but only if you’re intentionally channeling Marchesa Luisa Casati.

Angelina Jolie- oh. my. god. I know I’m biased (as one of her long lost, adopted children she’s never acknowledged or heard of) but I cannot say one bad thing about this, especially since I’ve been in 100% Bombshell Manual mode lately and anything with feathers or frills or femininity is giving me LIFE. #bestdressed

Elizabeth Moss: from Polly to Pollyana. Anyone that gets that is my lifelong friend and anyone that doesn’t please never talk to me again. But seriously honey, that waistline is not your friend.

Jessica Chastain- I think I love everything about this but am i crazy or does it make her look a little bulky? Tell me I’m crazy. I’m crazy. (Narrator: She was definitely crazy.)

omg Maggie Gyllenhaal is wearing the same Castle Greyskull, droopy-sleeve of wizard-vagine garment as Debra Messing! Is this a thing?? Gross. And those earrings are stupid too but I don’t know why.

Emilia Clarke is perfection (minus the bow but moving on) and I don’t even love GOT.

Geena Davis stole one of CZJ’S costumes from Chicago and i can’t say that I’m angry. I will say that I’m angry that the head designer at LOFT got hold of it and added a few of those filthy lace panels before she walked the red carpet, but since she still looks pretty flawless…I’LL ALLOW IT.

As always, Lena Headey looks like the drunk, badass aunt who was a groupie before falling into acting so I love her even more than when she gets drunk and sets people on fire on tv. The dress does look like something a goth would make to wear to a Renaissance fair, but who cares when she looks that cool in it?

I love Margot Robbie more than almost anyone in Hollywood today (even though she stole my life’s dream of playing Tonya Harding. Seriously, I’d started writing a short right before they announced that movie and I’m not even kidding), but I can’t say i know exactly what she was going for with this look… an Elsa-possessed mistletoe over her womb to subtly announce she’s expecting? A tribute to the portion of Fantasia where fairies ice skate to ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ as a nod to the ice goddess she plays in ‘I, Tonya?’ I’ve been staring at it for a few minutes now and can honestly say I have no clue.

Gwendolyn Christie- I have no idea what you are wearing but I do know that I am obsessed with your GOT character so you have my permission to do whatever you please.

Kerry Washington unfortunately looks like some anorexic basic at her junior prom. And those floral net booties are what a leprechaun wears to a funeral. wtf. Oh but her hair is on point.

Kate Hudson- Je refuse.

Chris Hemsworth can do no wrong even in a suit made from a brocade table cloth and VELVETEEN shoes so don’t even worry about it, honey.

Michelle Pfeiffer- omg i am heartbroken over how matronly you look!! As anyone who knows me knows, my mother could pass as your identical twin, so I take it kind of personally when you show up on the red carpet dressed as Marian the librarian’s widowed sister, Ovarian.

Zoe Kravtiz- Sweetie, it’s already been done and its name was Natalie Portman. A chunky, funky emerald earring does make you look like Audrey Hepburn's edgy cousin though. Whatever- you still look gorgeous and I love you.

Kendall Jenner- There are so many things wrong with your look, much less your existence, but I’ll just sum it up with this: T. STRAPPED. POINTY. TOED. SHOES. Also, lay off the brow botox before you look like Debra Messing, or worse, Kylie Jenner. #gasp

Sarah Jessica Parker literally went as her character from Hocus Pocus attending a funeral.

Isabelle Huppert wins the night! Nope, spoke too soon. Her dress has those damned flutter sleeves on it too! What IS that? It’s trash, is what it is…

Roseanne Barr forgot to put a dress over her Spanx…

Ok, that's all I got. I barely watched any of the actual show bc I can't with most of those self important a-holes, so I can't comment on anything "exciting" or "interesting" that might have happened. Let me know if I missed anything highly offensive🥂

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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years

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Fic: Love is a Layered Cake (3/10)

Summary: Summer has come, and with it, the Great British Bake-Off. Sheep farmer and spinner Rum Gold is one of twelve contestants competing for the crown in the latest show. In addition to navigating the perils of televised baking, ridiculous challenges and his fellow bakers, he also has to contend with his undeniable crush on one of the judges, the beautiful and talented Belle French…

Rated: G

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[Week One: Cake] [Week Two: Biscuits]

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Week Three - Bread

In which Gold can’t sleep but can bake, and Belle gets some encouragement from an unlikely source.

Also, Jefferson creates a new formula for superglue.

====

There was something therapeutic about breadmaking. Gold had been making bread for the family for as long as he could remember, long before Bae had ever been on the horizon. Aunt Elvira had taught him when he'd been a child, a staunch proponent of home-baked bread over anything bought from a shop, and even now, years later, Gold still found it to be the best way of working through his thoughts. Kneading a good strong rye dough helped him to get everything in order. If he wanted to forget, then he would spin, but if he categorically did not want to forget, then he would bake.

Luckily, Bae was still a growing lad and would eat his weight in bread if he could, so there was never a surfeit in the house, even with all the extra that Gold had been making recently to practice for the competition. This was where he would come into his own, and although he was not the kind of person who was ever really confident in his own abilities, Gold didn't think that he would embarrass himself completely. Bread was practically in his blood, along with wool and cheese.

Bae came into the kitchen in his pyjamas to find him kneading and raised an eyebrow.

"Dad, it's gone one in the morning and you're at the competition tomorrow. Get some sleep. I don't think you're going to be able to improve your technique much more in the next seven hours."

"I know. This isn't for the competition, this is just for me."

Bae sat down at the table. "Nervous?"

Gold scoffed. "Always. But not as nervous as the previous two weeks. Of course, it could all go horribly wrong and on this, the one day I think I've got a chance, I get thwarted."

"You'll be fine. Belle will love your loaf." There was a pause. "I didn't mean that to sound as dirty as it did."

Gold rolled his eyes and put the dough into a tin for its second prove, grabbing his now-cold tea and sitting at the table beside his son.

In a way, he wasn’t sure how he should be feeling. He had told Bae that he was less nervous than he had been before, which was true. He was on familiar ground and there wasn’t really a lot that could go wrong with bread, all he had to do was trust his instincts and go with it. It was something that he was comfortable with. At the same time, he knew that if he was going to impress Belle at any point during the competition, then it would be this week. Part of him didn’t want to peak too early and for her to be disappointed with him for the rest of the competition – however long that might be for him. Part of him was worried that she wouldn’t be impressed at all, that what he thought was good was not going to be good enough for her. He sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“You should be in bed,” he remarked to Bae, who just gave him a look, one inherited from Aunt Elvira.

“So should you.”

“What are you two doing up?”

Aunt Elvira poked her head around the kitchen doorway, her hair in rollers and an expression of mingled fury and incredulousness on her face. “What kind of time do you call this… Are you baking, Rum? Now?”

“All the best bread is baked at night, Aunt Elvira. Get some of the magic of the moon into it.”

Aunt Elvira just gaped at him. “What on earth are you talking about, boy? Come on, both of you, you’ve got a big day tomorrow, Rum. I will not have you falling asleep at your mixer because you decided to bake bread at silly o’clock in the morning. And you.” She pointed accusingly at Bae. “Don’t you encourage him. You’re a teenager, you need all the sleep you can get.”

Bae sighed and got up from the table but Gold stayed put. Aunt Elvira folded her arms, one eyebrow raised. Gold hadn’t thought that it was physically possible for one’s eyebrows to be quite so expressive; if she wasn’t careful they’d be in her hairline, and finally he caved under the force of her ire. The bread could bake in the morning. She and Bae were right, he did need to be at least vaguely compos mentis, there was no use in sabotaging himself on what could well be his best week in the tent. All the same, lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, Gold could not drop off. Thoughts of Belle kept swirling through his head, thinking about the conversation that they’d shared the previous week and hoping that it could be repeated, and maybe that he could acquit himself slightly better than he had done before.

“Ah, bread. My one true nemesis. Well, that and pigeons.”

Gold raised an eyebrow as Jefferson entered the break room and grabbed a banana from the fruit platter, brandishing it like a sword in front of him as he came over to Gold and Emma.

“You know, I’m not even going to ask about the pigeons,” Emma said, taking a long sip of her coffee and watching the newly-arrived tailor over the rim of her mug. “In fact, I’m not even going to ask about the bread.”

“I mean, I can just about manage it,” he continued, tossing the banana from hand to hand but showing no signs of actually eating it. “I just don’t understand why it has to be rye. It’s just so… temperamental. What do you think, Gold? You said that you were a bread man.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever had a problem with rye fighting back,” Gold said dryly.

“I’ve had terrible trouble with mine. I was practising two days ago and I had to get Grace to help extricate me from the stuff. It had turned into something akin to superglue, I swear. It was not normal. We managed to unstick it all in the end but I’m sure there’s still some on the ceiling. It’s eating through the paint.”

“What are you putting in your bread?” Emma asked. “I’m not sampling it, however good it might look. I want no part in you accidentally poisoning the judges.”

“They don’t eat it if it’s not cooked properly,” Jefferson said, waving an arm airily. “They’ll be fine.”

“I’m not concerned about raw dough, I’m more worried about the mixture corroding my insides.” Emma drained her coffee and closed her eyes. “Uff, I’ve been on night shifts all week and now my brain keeps telling me that I ought to be going to bed. I’m going to be as bad as Aurora today.”

“Join the club,” Gold muttered. He couldn’t have got more than a couple of hours in total, tossing and turning in fits and starts throughout the night, and by the time the light was coming up it wasn’t worth trying to get back to sleep before it was time to go and let the sheep out, so he’d got up and finished baking the previous evening’s loaf. It hadn’t come out too bad, all things considered.

“Morning, darlings.” Ella sauntered into the room, sunglasses on, and poured herself a large cup of coffee. “I don’t suppose anyone’s got any gin?”

The presenter was met with a unanimous negative and she sighed heavily.

“Never mind. Can’t have everything, I suppose. Are we all ready to get kneading? I’m hoping to see some extreme bicep action, you know.” Gold couldn’t tell exactly where she was looking through the dark glasses, but he had the sneaking suspicion that she was eyeing up Lance’s arms. Well, truth be told, he was eyeing up Lance’s arms as well. The man’s muscles looked hard as rock and Gold wondered how his own measured up in comparison. Kneading bread only went so far in terms of exercise. He shook himself out of that train of thought, it wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Evidently Ella had decided to lose that train of thought as well, and she came over to their little group, looking at Jefferson’s banana, which he was still holding like a weapon rather than eating.

“Were you trying to inspire a really terrible and only slightly appropriate for pre-watershed television joke, Jefferson, or are you actually going to eat that banana?” she asked.

“Well, I was going to eat it but now you’ve put me off somewhat,” Jefferson said, and he relinquished the banana to the presenter, who subsequently began to eat it without any self-consciousness.

“Heaven help us if the judges decide to get us to make banana bread at any point,” Emma muttered.

“It’s been banned,” Ella said, and there was a touch of forlornness in her voice. “They decided that there was too much potential for unbroadcastable innuendo. No banana bread for the foreseeable future. Of course, then they decided to have an entire week devoted to pies and tarts, so I think we’re going to be able to get our own back.” She gave a happy sigh. “Please let someone make banana tart next week. Please….”

Emma, Jefferson and Gold all looked at each other, exchanging an unspoken question as to what they’d be baking next week if they were all still there. From the expressions on the others’ faces, it was clear that bananas were not going to feature.

“All right, all right, sorry I’m late, we had a problem with one of the amplifier things, it kept retuning itself to a radio station.” Astrid raced into the room with a box of mics and rushed over to the nearest person to get them wired up. “I mean, I can sort of understand it picking up the radio, but it was picking up a local station from northern Germany, which was what made it worrying. Still, we’re all here now and we’re still on schedule, so let’s go!”

Gold couldn’t fault Astrid’s optimism, however frantic it might be, and he had to smile when he saw Leroy go over and give her a peck on the cheek before getting his mic attached to him. He wasn’t feeling quite so confident himself, but all he could do was take a step back and rely on his years of breadmaking experience. This was his time to shine, and he couldn’t fail now.

“I love bread week.” Granny gave a satisfied sigh, and Belle had to laugh as she blew on the surface of her first cup of tea of the day to cool it. She wasn’t a morning person at the best of times and the long hours on filming weekends really took it out of her. Mind you, she couldn’t spend too much time feeling sorry for herself, after all, all the contestants had to travel as far as she did or further, and then had to bake on top of it all. Aurora was doing incredibly well, all things considered. Still, despite the early start, Belle had to agree with Granny’s sentiment about bread week. Bread was always one of the staples of the show, along with cake, and practically everything that the bakers made could come down to either cake batter or bread dough in the long run. As time went on their challenges became more and more intricate, but if they couldn’t make it through this one fundamental week, then… Bread week was really the week where people started to come into their own, since it required such a different set of skills to baking cake and biscuits. Cakes required a steady hand and an artistic flair, a head for flavour and colour. Bread required strength, precision, good judgement and excellent timing. A few minutes too long in the prove or too few in the oven could be the difference between a great loaf and a completely inedible one, and in the short time frame that the bakers had, there was no room for any error. Granny was more of a bread baker; Belle preferred the more intricate side of baking.

Astrid finished attaching their mic packs and began to chivvy them down towards the tent, ready for the competition to begin, and they paused outside as they always did with Ursula and Ella whilst the tent was set up ready and the contestants found their respective workbenches. Ella was still bemoaning her hangover, and was receiving absolutely no sympathy from Ursula.

“Ella, take those off, you look ridiculous and I’m sure you can’t see a thing in them,” Granny said plainly, indicating Ella’s sunglasses and the grey, overcast weather that surrounded them, a typical British summer.

“I can see perfectly well,” Ella grumbled, taking off the glasses and shoving them in an inside pocket somewhere. “I can see that there is no gin in my hand and that this is a problem.”

“You know, if you mention gin once more, people are going to start thinking that you’re an alcoholic,” Ursula pointed out.

“I’m not going to mention it in front of the cameras.” Ella seemed rather affronted at the notion. “There are impressionable children watching at home.”

Ursula raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you cared about the impressionable children?”

“Since now. Come on, they must be ready in there now.” Ella peered into the tent, hopping about from foot to foot in her impatience to get started, and Belle just laughed at her antics. No matter what was going on in the tent, or indeed outside it, Ella could always be relied on to lighten the mood, however unintentionally she might be doing it.

Finally the runners called them into the tent and the day’s filming began in earnest.

“Good morning bakers,” Ursula began. “Welcome to bread week, where we hope you will rise to the challenges facing you. Honestly, who writes these, they’re terrible.”

“If you’re all able to ignore the awful puns for a moment, then Granny and Belle would like you to make, for your signature challenge, twelve rye rolls. You can make them in any shape or finish that you choose, but they must be made with rye flour and they must be identical. You have three and a half hours on the clock.”

“On your marks.”

“Get set.”

“Bake!”

They were off, and as always Belle and Granny took a few moments at the front of the tent to let the contestants get going without interruptions. It was even more important for them to get off to a good start on bread week, with their creations needing so long to prove and rise. The beauty of the long waiting times meant that they could move around the tent and talk to the bakers in the pauses, without distracting them from what they were doing too much. In some of the quicker challenges that required more finesse and attention to detail all the time, Belle did feel somewhat guilty about talking to the bakers when they so clearly needed to get on with what they were doing. She let herself gaze around the tent taking everything in, looking at the layout and who was where. Having lost two of the men already, the remaining ones looked hopelessly outnumbered, sandwiched right in the middle. Gold had ended up in front of Zelena again, but thankfully the redhead was too absorbed in what she was doing to be paying any attention to her fellow bakers. Everyone was showing an intense concentration, and Belle had to linger a little on Gold. This would be his week, she was sure of it, and she thought that he looked a little more confident than before, the slightest smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She hoped that he would do well, and that she would get the chance to speak to him in private like she had done the previous week. Still, there was no time for daydreaming now. Ursula and Ella were starting to make their way around the workbenches and Granny was pulling her along to go and speak to Regina, who was at the front on the right-hand side, across from Mal, who seemed to have got off to a good start for once. Perhaps her fortunes were going to change as well.

“What’s up with you today?” Granny asked in a low voice, out of reach of the cameras. “You’re in a complete world of your own.”

“Yes, I am. Sorry Granny, I’ll try and be a bit more with it from now on. I shouldn’t be mooning about when there’s judging to be done.”

“Well, there’s no judging to be done just yet, love, so I think you’ll be ok. As long as you’ve woken up in four hours’ time.”

Belle nodded, and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Once she got back into the swing of it and was talking to the bakers and learning about their breads, she came back to herself fairly quickly, but the same impressions remained in her mind. Bread week was always a pivotal week, and Belle was certain that this year, it was going to be a good week.

Once he was inside the tent and the clock was counting down, Gold felt a lot more at ease. Ignore the cameras and just get on with the main event. Rye bread he could do. He’d been doing it for years. He hadn’t even had to practice specially, just make a few fancy rolls instead of his usual loaves. He kept glancing up as he weighed and measured, watching out for the judges so as not to be caught out by them again. He was getting wary to the way they moved around the tent, and he hoped that he could anticipate their arrival. Some unkind person up there had decided that it would be a good idea to sandwich him between Zelena and Mal in the middle of the tent. He had no problem with Mal, although her explosive outbursts when something went wrong in her bake might yet give him a heart attack. Zelena, though, was a different matter. To say that she was persistent would be putting it mildly. He could feel her eyes on him, or more specifically his arse, and he kept expecting to turn around and find her right behind him. The workbench between them really didn’t seem like it would be adequate protection. A nice wall would be better. Or a moat. Filled with boiling lava. Or sharks. Or both. The sharks would have to be wearing fireproof suits though. The thought made him burst out laughing and Mal turned around, raising her eyebrows.

“Everything all right there, Gold?”

He nodded, trying to compose himself and pressing the back of one flour covered hand over his mouth.

“Long train of thought,” he managed to get out eventually.

“Right…” Mal didn’t seem entirely convinced of his sanity and Gold sighed. Well, at least Jefferson wouldn’t be alone in having a reputation for eccentricity in the tent. He glanced over at his friend, who was holding up sticky dough covered hands with a despairing expression. Jefferson caught his eye then and mouthed at him. “Help!”

Gold just chuckled and Jefferson narrowed his eyes, setting about trying to clean his hands with his bench scraper but only succeeding in getting the tool stuck to him. Gold was so caught up in watching his predicament that he almost didn’t notice Granny, Belle and Ursula coming over to him. Ella had gone to investigate what was going on with Jefferson, and for a while the four of them at Gold’s bench, plus the cameraman and the boom operator, were all transfixed.

“I’m being betrayed by my own dough!” Jefferson exclaimed mournfully. “I’m terrified that it’s going to set like concrete and I’ll never be able to get out! I’ll be stuck with bread hands forever!”

“Do you think we ought to do something?” Belle asked, unable to tear her gaze away. Granny shook her head.

“No, he’ll be all right. If he’s still in a pickle in ten minutes we’ll consider hosing his hands down or something.”

Ursula gave a snort and they finally turned their attention to Gold.

“So, tell us about your rye rolls.”

“Well, this is a tested rye and spelt recipe that I’ve been using for years,” Gold said, giving the dough a final pull and setting it in the bowl for proving.

“Another of your Aunt Elvira’s?” Belle asked, and Gold nodded.

“You want to be careful, she’ll probably start demanding commission,” Ursula commented.

“Well, if she ever brings out a cookbook then I think I’ve provided her with enough publicity,” Gold said. He hoped they cut that part out before it aired, coming to think of it; he didn’t want Aunt Elvira getting any ideas. He wouldn’t put anything past her.

“Well, she hasn’t let you down yet, and I’m sure that she won’t this time.” Belle was smiling brightly. “How are you going to shape them?”

“A classic plait,” he said. “I didn’t want to be too adventurous. Bread has to speak for itself, you know.”

Granny gave a sage nod, regarding him with an expression wasn’t quite impressed, but was certainly admiring. “You know your bread, Rum.”

“I bake a lot of it.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to the results.”

As if that hadn’t just heaped the pressure on even more… Gold sighed as they went away, checking up on the dough. There was no visible rise to it yet, but it would come with time. For now he could take a break, and he glanced over at Jefferson again. He’d managed to unstick himself from the bench scraper and most of the dough was now on the table rather than his hands, but he’d never seen the immaculately put together man look quite so messy. All the same, he was still smiling through it all, and he had to admire the man. Even when things weren’t going well, he could still put a brave face on it instead of crumbling.

“Please work, please work, please work…” Mal was muttering at her proving drawer, her eyes level with the counter as she watched the closed door with fierce concentration.

“Mal, I really don’t think that’s going to make it rise any quicker or any bigger.” Regina had come over and was leaning on the other woman’s workbench with a cup of tea.

“I know.” Mal sighed, resting her forehead on the counter. “That’s what I hate about bread. There’s just so much waiting involved.”

“I know. Give me apple turnovers any day of the week. Something. Anything that I can do whilst I’m waiting.”

“Well, there are probably a few things I could suggest. Not sure any of them would be entirely appropriate on primetime family TV though.”

Regina bit her lip, trying to hold back a giggle, and Gold pretended to be very interested in cleaning up his workstation. That the two ladies got on very well was a given, and there was certainly a mutual something between them. It wouldn’t be the first time that a relationship had begun in the tent, but the cameras usually discreetly avoided it. He’d never thought of one occurring this soon into the proceedings though. Still, they did say that opposites attracted. Regina was precise in her baking, very neat, never making a mess, and her creations were always beautiful. Mal was more haphazard, her language colourful and her baking even more so. She hadn’t expected to make it to the end of the first week, and now it seemed that she was simply grateful for every reprieve that she got and every new chance she had to prove herself. Gold completely understood the feeling.

“We should have a juggling contest,” Jefferson suggested from the other side of the tent. In front of him, Emma rolled her eyes in despair, staring down at the proving drawer in her workbench, obviously itching to open it and check how the dough was getting on, but not wanting to jinx it by looking too early.

“It’s like Schrödinger’s Cat,” Lance remarked. With nothing to do for a while until the dough had finished proving, the bakers were all congregating again for a while, gravitating towards Mal and Gold’s benches where most of the conversation seemed to be centred. “As long as you don’t look, there’s still the possibility that it might be all going fine, but the moment you know for certain…”

“Curiosity killed the roll, that’s a new one on me,” Emma said. She glanced over her shoulder at her bench again as Jefferson came over to join the little group. “And now, of course, we have the psychological waiting game of who’s going to break from this little huddle and go back to their dough first. Weirdest game of chicken I’ve ever played.”

“Juggling contest. I’m telling you.” Jefferson was still picking flakes of dough from underneath his fingernails; the front of his apron was covered with sticky smears.

“Yes, but why, Jefferson? And what with? I don’t think that your fellow bakers would be too pleased with you using their unbaked rolls as juggling balls.” Ella had come over to join in the fun, leaving Ursula to chat to Zelena, who’d had similar stickage problems to Jefferson and was taking out her frustrations on the dough. Somehow the sight of her pummelling the thing into submission made Gold even more nervous in her presence than he had been before.

“Well, I’m not at the stage of juggling knives yet, but I can do oranges.”

“That’s great, Jefferson, but I don’t see any oranges around here. Only kitchen utensils and bread dough that everyone is guarding with their lives.”

“Oh, I can’t take this anymore, I’m going to check mine.” Emma raced back to her workbench and opened the proving drawer, giving a disappointed sigh when she saw that her dough did not appear to have increased in size at all. “Dang it!”

The waiting was definitely the worst part. At home, Gold never noticed the proving and baking time because there was always something else to do to take his mind off it, and since he proved at room temperature, it always took longer and he could just forget about it for a while. Now, he had absolutely nothing to do to fill the time. It would be better if it was a cake of some kind, where he could work on the decorations or icing or what have you, but no, he was doomed to just wait. He eased himself onto the high stool beside his workbench, stretching out his leg. He really couldn’t be doing with his ankle complaining today, not on this most important of days.

“How are you holding up?”

It was Belle’s voice beside him, and he was ashamed of how much he startled when he heard her. She grinned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. How’s your leg?”

“I’ll live. I’ve managed this far.”

There was a quirk to Belle’s lips, as if she wanted to say something else, but she shook her head, thinking better of it and moving away. “Well, I’ll let you get on. Can’t be doing distracting you from your masterpiece. But do let Astrid or one of the other runners know if you need anything to make you more comfortable.”

“Thank you.” He was touched by her concern for his wellbeing, even though he knew that she’d make the same offer to anyone in the tent with disabilities. Still, it was time to see how the dough was doing and turn his thoughts away from Belle. It wouldn’t do to be distracted by her beauty on the one week he had a chance of doing really well.

The dough had risen well and he began to shape it; and the memories of Aunt Elvira and Aunt Miriam teaching him how to make bread plaits when he was very small and had to stand on an apple box to reach the kitchen table made him smile fondly. It was a tradition that he had passed on down to Bae, using the self-same box to help his son get his hands into the bowl of dough and create his own haphazard shapes. Bae’s happy little facing beaming up at him, hands sticky with dough but so proud of his achievements, flashed across his mind as he continued to shape, carefully partitioning out the dough so that the finished rolls would all be the same size and weight. Aunt Elvira had always maintained that the most potent secret ingredient in any of her recipes, be it simple bread or the sticky treacle ginger cake that she still made for his birthday every year, was love, and Gold hoped that some of the love that he felt for his family would make its way into the bread today and give it that extra something. He’d always taken the words with a pinch of salt, but right now he would take all the help that he would get. He was baking things that he made ordinarily for his family, things that they enjoyed, and that had to account for something.

Time continued to tick by, agonisingly slowly, and Gold had never been so grateful for Ursula yelling that the challenge was over. He looked at the basket of rolls on the end of his bench, and took a moment to look around tent at what everyone else had come up with. It was clear to say that some people had definitely fared better than others, and Gold did feel sorry for Jefferson, who seemed to be covered in dough. A small part of him, long since hidden and tamped down, began to flutter with hope and excitement. He was no judge, but he would definitely say that he was on the upper end of the scale when it came to success.

Still, only Granny and Belle could decide whether or not he’d passed this first test of his bread making credentials. There was agonising silence for a few moments as the judges considered the bake, but then Belle smiled.

“Aunt Elvira’s done it again,” she said. “These are really good; perfectly proved and baked and very flavoursome. They’re very well presented as well, nice and neat.” Gold bit his cheek to stop a laugh escaping since most of the other bakers had been criticised for their work looking untidy - especially Jefferson, who thanks to the stickiness of the dough had been somewhat unable to form his rolls into shapes other than vague blobs. Aurora and Elsa had both ended up with similar issues, probably as a result of using too much water in their mixture. Rye bread used a lot of water and was meant to be soft and dense, but it was possible to get a bit carried away when adding liquid to the dough. Still, Gold wasn’t really concentrating on the other bakers too much, not when Granny and Belle were singing the praises of his rye rolls and he was certain that he had got off to a good start.

Unfortunately, this did mean that come lunch in the break room, he was the centre of attention. Thus far he’d always managed to take some of his baking home with him for the family to sample. Not that they really needed to, since they’d been sampling all the practice bakes that he had been making for the past however many weeks and were probably sick of it, but Elvira had been adamant about tasting ‘the real thing’. This time, though, everyone had wanted in on his rolls and there was nothing but crumbs left to take home. Thankfully everyone else’s opinion seemed to echo the judges’, and Gold felt a little smile begin to creep over his face as he received compliments from Lance, whose signature rye and cardamom knots had also been highly praised by the judges. For the first time, he felt like he did actually deserve to be here, rather than having got in on some kind of fluke and being an imposter to be recognised and turned out at any moment. He had proven himself worthy of his place in the tent, and with any luck, he could keep it for another week to come.

He was actually quite glad when Astrid pulled him out of the room for his piece to camera, giving an update on how the day was progressing so far. Hopefully by the time he got back in there, everyone would have moved on to a different pet topic and he would have five minutes to himself.

“So, how are you feeling after the first challenge?” Astrid asked brightly. “Everything seems to be going very well for you so far.”

Gold nodded. “It’s been a really good morning. I’m amazed at how positive the reaction was, to be honest. I mean, I hoped they’d like it, but I was certain that they were going to find something wrong with the rolls. I suppose all I can do is hope that this success continues this afternoon.”

“Cut, thank you!” Astrid walked him back to the tent as Walter the cameraman set about trying to remove a particularly stubborn fly from the lens of his camera. “So, do you think you can win this week?”

Gold didn’t know. If he was going to stand a chance of winning any week, then it was going to be this one, which didn’t really give him a lot of hope for the rest of the competition. He’d got off to a good start, but the technical challenge could still flip things completely...

Soon enough, it was time to return to the tent. Gold was feeling quietly confident about this, because when it came down to it, bread was bread and there wasn’t all that much variation in method of ‘make dough, prove, bake’. Unless of course Granny had decided to throw them a complete curveball and have them make something ridiculous that no-one had ever heard of, but bread was generally a difficult but not completely impossible technical. Last year’s had been ciabatta. Gold had never made a ciabatta himself but at least he knew what it was and what it ought to look like. The judges gave their final pieces of advice and were shooed out of the tent, and Gold returned his attention to the presenters and the forthcoming challenge. He made a lot of bread. Please let it be something that he had made before…

“Good afternoon, bakers.” Ella had put her sunglasses back on and Ursula fought them off her head with a sigh, but the cameras kept rolling in spite of their antics and they continued. “For today’s technical challenge, Granny and Belle would like you to bake four identical baguettes. You have two and a half hours on the clock. On your marks.”

“Get set.”

“Bake!”

Baguettes. He could do baguettes. By some miracle he had actually made one before, but it was a long time ago and he’d vowed to stick to rolls and bread that could be made in loaf tins afterwards. Still, he wasn’t going in completely blind. The main problem would be getting the bread to hold its classic shape during its second prove, especially since they would be using the traditional cloths provided rather than anything resembling a solid baguette mould. Still, time was ticking away and he could deal with that when it came to it. Timing was going to be crucial here; with only two and a half hours on the clock, it was going to be down to the wire to get the dough sufficiently proved and baked in time, which meant that the basic dough had to be created as quickly as possible. He could hear the other competitors talking to the presenters and the camera crew as they worked their way around the tent, and he focussed on what he was doing, trying to tune them out. He wondered if Zelena would be up to her usual tricks today or if the fact that she was now about as far away from him as the tent would allow had dampened her ardour somewhat. He sneaked a quick glance over in her direction, hoping that she wasn’t doing the same thing and would take his warning reconnaissance in the wrong way. Thankfully, like the other bakers, she was too absorbed in her own work to pay him any mind. Since her escapades last week had not borne fruit, perhaps she’d toned it down a little in the hopes of doing better in the competition.

A cameraman had since snuck up on him surreptitiously, almost giving Gold a heart attack when he turned to see the man there.

“You’ve got to stop doing that,” he muttered, but nonetheless started talking through the baking process. The recipe that Granny had given them was somewhat sparse, with no indication of proving and baking times so they were having to do everything by eye. Once again, the waiting game was agonising, especially with so little time to waste. Every minute that the dough proved was a minute less in the oven for its final bake. Over in one corner of the tent, Regina was talking to Ella about whether or not the baguettes needed steam in the oven in order to go as crispy as they were intended, and it was quite clear that all the other contestants were trying desperately not to look like they were listening in.

Ultimately Gold decided that patience was a virtue, leaving his baguettes to the last minute before putting them in the oven and winging up a prayer to whatever was up there, or perhaps just sending some vibes to Aunt Elvira in the hope that it was all going to go all right. All too soon it was time for the challenge to end, and once the clean-up had been done and the contestants were arranged in the centre of the tent as usual, the judges reappeared.

Gold was sitting on his crossed fingers, which earned him a strange look from Mal beside him, but over the course of the two and a half weekends that they had spent together, Gold had come to the conclusion that absolutely nothing shocked Mal at all, and she made no mention of his nerves.

The judges produced a variety of comments about the baguettes; it seemed that no-one had managed to get them perfect but they’d all failed in different ways. Gold’s offering was among the better ones, deemed underbaked and not crispy enough, but well-proved, so he thought that his excessive hanging around waiting for the dough to rise wasn’t entirely unjustified. In the end, he came third, behind Regina and Lance. Jefferson and Elsa were at the bottom; their own baguettes had been almost rock solid, and the two of them came over as the production began winding down for the day.

“You know, I’m beginning to lose confidence,” Jefferson said, although his outward appearance was as cheery as ever. “I knew that bread was going to be my downfall. It’s dough, I swear it doesn’t like me. If I survive this, then heaven help me if I make it to advanced dough week.”

“You and me both,” Elsa muttered. She wasn’t quite as caked in flour as she had been in previous challenges, and Gold wondered if trying to be cleaner had had an adverse effect on her baking skills.

“All the same, our woeful performance aside, you ought to be very proud of yourself,” Jefferson said. “I think that you’re getting closer to winning lovely Miss French’s heart by the second.”

Gold raised an eyebrow. “Really, Jefferson?”

“Relax, there aren’t any cameras around, your secret is safe with us.”

“It’s not if you broadcast it around the entire tent, even if not around the entire country,” Gold muttered

“So you do have a little crush on our favourite judge then?” Emma had come over to join them and there was a cheeky smile on her face.

“Oh, for goodness sake!” Gold threw his hands up in defeat. “What am I going to do with the lot of you?”

“Just love us.” Jefferson patted Gold on the back. “We’re all on your side, you know. I think that would be the perfect bake-off romance. It should really come with some kind of warning, that you might lose your heart in the process of losing your dignity. I swear I’ve still got rye dough in my ears.”

“I’m not even going to ask how it got in your ears,” Emma said. “You know, I think you’re making this stuff up half the time.”

“Only half?”

The banter had thankfully moved away from the topic of Gold’s crush on Belle, and he glanced over to her, where she had just come back into the tent having done a piece to camera. She caught his eye and smiled at him, mouthing well done. A small part of himself allowed a little time to preen at the attention, but then his usual, painfully embarrassed self took over and he ducked away out of sight.

Lying awake that night in his hotel room, Gold thought about the next move in their little… what was it? It wasn’t really anything. It couldn’t really be called a flirtation in all good faith, there hadn’t been any flirting, at least not on his part. And considering his track record when it came to communicating with women, there probably wouldn’t be any flirting on his part for the foreseeable future. In the past he’d found it far easier to take a back seat and let his partner take the lead in the relationship, but on the other hand, when he thought about his failed marriage to Bae’s mother, maybe that wasn’t the best course of action. For now, he decided that the best thing to do would be to just wait it out and see what happened. There wasn’t really anything else to be done. But if they could keep exchanging those secret little smiles, then he would certainly be happy with that.

Sunday dawned bright and early, the showstopper challenge looming ahead of them. The contestants were somewhat subdued in the break room, even Jefferson, who seemed to finally be feeling the toll of his difficult week. With many of them having had problems the previous day, there was even more pressure than usual on the showstopper, and even though Gold had fared well, he knew that he couldn’t afford to be complacent.

The quiet made him uneasy. When everyone was talking, it was much easier to fade into the background, to be on the periphery of a conversation and not really noticed, but with no-one really talking, there was nowhere to hide, no space for polite nods and affirmations. He kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone and trying to evoke the image of a little hedgehog curled up into a ball. He wasn’t trying to be anti-social and aloof, but instigating conversations had never been a strong point of his.

Thankfully they did not have to wait too long for the runners to come in and start attaching mics and shepherding them down to the tent. It was a cold rainy day, typical of the British summer, and the weather seemed to reflect the general mood in the tent. Even Gold’s confidence was waning by the time he got behind his workbench, and he wondered if the thing that he had been counting on to curry favour with the judges was actually a terrible idea and he ought to think up something else at the last minute. That was going to be slightly difficult considering that the ingredients were already out on the workbenches and it was too late to call for any more.

“Good morning bakers,” Ella began. “Well, as good as it can be considering that it’s absolutely bucketing it down outside and the production team are worried that the tent roof will cave in under the weight of the downpour.”

Granny shot her an unimpressed look. “Ella, don’t make trouble before they’ve even begun.”

“All right, all right. There is no danger of the tent falling in on our heads. I still reckon that I’m going to have to go around with buckets catching drips though.”

“Ella, you know full well that the tent has never leaked and we’re wasting the bakers’ valuable time here.” Ursula gave a long-suffering sigh, and Gold had to wonder how the two of them had got together. “Bakers, for your showstopper challenge today, Granny and Belle would like you to make a filled centrepiece loaf. It can be in any style or shape that you like, sweet or savoury, and use any type of filling, but it must be a full, family-sized loaf. You have four hours on the clock. On your marks!”

“Get set!”

“Bake!”

They were off, and Gold immediately left his work station to check that one of his ingredients was still in the fridge. Yes, there it was, the thing that would win him the crown, his secret weapon. Well, in Bae and Elvira’s opinion anyway. A large block of homemade sheep’s cheese was sitting there in pride of place and Gold felt a keen sense of pride in his and Elvira’s craftsmanship, even if the finished bread turned out to be a disaster. Elvira had joked that it would be an excellent advertisement for their little business and would hopefully drum up a lot more custom when it finally aired. Gold doubted that. There was the small matter of the judges, and if they said that his creation was terrible, then they were unlikely to have buyers flocking to sample one of the key ingredients.

There was no time to be lost in staring soulfully at cheese, however. There was bread to be made.

The dough he was using was a fancy variation on the simple rye he had used the previous day, adding walnuts for flavour and crunch. It was one of his more ambitious pieces even if he did say so himself, a loaf made of pinwheels of alternating dark and light dough, each one filled with a hopefully tasty mixture of cheese, nuts, and dried figs, and he managed to mask his nervousness at the gargantuan task ahead of him when the judges came around and he explained his thinking.

“Is this cheese from your sheep?” Belle asked, indicating the creamy white block that he was now crumbling up ready to create the filling.

“Yes, it is. Handmade.”

“Could I try some please? If you’ve got enough for me to have a little taste.”

“Erm, of course.” He handed her a spoon and Belle took a crumb of cheese out of his bowl, giving an appreciative nod.

“Yes, that tastes wonderful. I can’t wait to see how it pairs with the other ingredients in the finished product.”

“No pressure there then,” Ursula said as the judges moved away.

“Nope,” Gold muttered. “Would you like to try some?” he added.

“No, I leave tasting privileges to the judges,” she said. “And to Ella, but then, trying to get free samples of all the baker’s unfinished works is something of a prerogative for her. Honestly, sometimes I think that she’s only here for the free food and has no interest in actually hosting the competition at all.”

“I heard that!” Ella’s voice, from the other end of the tent, was affronted.

“And are you going to dispute its accuracy?” Belle asked her.

“Well, no, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still be offended!”

The atmosphere in the tent was lightened by this, and with the attention on the presenters rather than the bakers, it seemed that the air of confidence had increased. Elsa was happily making a full English breakfast loaf, Zelena had once again managed to include green in her bake with the addition of pesto to a mixture that Gold didn’t really trust to be edible, and behind him, Mal was humming to herself as she shaped small dough sausages for the petals of the ornate flower that she was creating, carefully filling each one with a chocolate and dried fruit mixture. All in all, things seemed to be going rather well until Gold heard what he was sure was a muffled sob from the other side of the tent. Checking that nothing would imminently go wrong with his loaf, which was safely in the oven and unlike to catch alight or anything similarly dramatic, he looked over at the source of the noise, which had also attracted Mal’s attention.

Aurora was crouched on the floor in front of her oven, her oven-mitted hands pressed over her face and her eyes wide with horror.

“Rory?” Mal hissed. “Rory, what’s up?”

“Oh no,” Rory moaned. “This can’t be happening… Why is this happening? It’s never done this before… Oh God…”

Whatever had happened, it was clearly something far more dramatic than the usual small mishaps that caused Mal to swear in frustration, and they exchanged a look before going over to Aurora’s workstation.

Looking into the oven, it was immediately clear what the problem was. Her bread was leaking. The filling (which looked to be an unusual shade of pink) was pouring steadily out of the dough, which was deflating into a sad and soggy puddle in the middle of the oven.

“It’s meant to be a strawberry cheesecake brioche,” Rory said, choked. “Not… whatever that monstrosity is.”

“Hey, it’s ok, don’t cry, I’m sure that we can pull it back,” Mal said, but Rory was shaking her head.

“There’s no way I can salvage that; how am I going to get the filling back into it? Fuck it all, it’s ruined and I don’t even know what I did wrong. It’s never done that before!”

By this point it was clear that the entire tent’s attention was now focussed on Rory and her cream cheese induced breakdown, including the cameras. Luckily, Ursula and Ella were on hand to head them off at the pass, and Ella leaned casually on the workbench, calmly spouting a torrent of profanity that would be completely unairable, thus shielding Rory from being filmed whilst crying over her doomed bread.

Gold had to admit, he really didn’t know what could be done to save this one; if it stayed in the oven any longer without intervention it would certainly continue to become a soggy mess, but at the same time, if they took it out and tried to do anything with it then it probably wouldn’t bake in time and would be judged as both dangerously inedible and extremely messy, and he advised Rory to keep it baking accordingly.

“The filling will catch and burn on the outside though,” she said mournfully, then gave a long sigh. “Well, I suppose that presenting something ugly but edible is better than presenting something ugly and inedible.”

“Hey, Rory.” Belle’s voice was soft as she slipped past the protective barrier that was Ella and crouched beside Mal. “It’s all right. These things happen. Don’t let it get the better of you. We’d far rather that you presented something than nothing. Don’t give in.”

Rory gave a weak smile. “Thank you, Belle.”

Once it became clear that there was really nothing that could be done for the loaf other than to let it keep cooking, with Rory watching it like a hawk to make sure that nothing caught alight, the other bakers went, a little reluctantly, back to their own stations to ensure that no similar catastrophes occurred in their own bakes. Gold glanced over his shoulder to where Aurora was sitting in front of her oven, a despondent expression on her face. The tent was quiet apart from the mutterings of the runners and the camera crew as they went about their usual work, and it seemed that this incident had shaken everyone a little. This was the first huge problem that someone had faced in the tent and it had really driven home just how quickly and easily something could go wrong and completely turn over their chances of succeeding in the competition.

Checking that his own bread was in no immediate danger, Gold thought about Belle and her brief intervention in the scene. Once again, he was struck by her kindness and thoughtfulness, her concern for the bakers’ wellbeing outweighing everything else. Gold had admired Belle from afar for many years now, but his attraction had always been based in the main off the impression of her that he had received from the TV screen. Now that he was getting to know her and see what the real-life woman was like, he was finding even more reasons to fall in love with her. Gold sighed. He really shouldn’t be thinking about these things, especially not when there was so much at stake - namely the chance of returning to the tent and to Belle’s presence next week.

He decided that it would be a good idea to put some foil on the edges of his loaf to prevent them browning too much and busied his mind with that for a few moments, but all too soon, the waiting game had begun again. No last-minute panics here, not when the only thing to be done to present the bread was to take it out of the oven and put it on a plate.

So simple, and yet so incredibly nerve-wracking. Still, once the time was up, the loaf made the transition without mishap and Gold breathed a sigh of relief, confident in the fact that there was nothing he could have done to make his offering any better, and that whatever Belle and Granny thought of the finished product, he had done his utmost.

The clean-up began in earnest, and a far more nerve-wracking wait for the judging was underway.

Belle didn’t think that she had ever seen Ella so excited about a judging. The woman was practically bouncing up and down and she wondered if it was something to do with the extra strength Anadin that she’d been popping all the previous day to counteract her hangover, and Belle could barely keep a straight face as the contestants began to bring their works up to the front. Aurora had put a brave face on her disaster as she carried up the sunken mess, swimming in melted cream cheese, but her smile was watery and forced, and Granny and Belle tactfully made no comments on the appearance. There were some things that spoke for themselves, for better or worse, and there was no use in drawing attention to the fact that her bake had so obviously not gone as planned; it would be rubbing salt into the wound.

The other bakers had all had varying degrees of success. Elsa’s full English loaf was particularly delicious and the level of detail that had gone into Mal’s work was universally admired not just by the judges. Jefferson had managed to pull himself back from the brink with a well-baked plait; keeping it simple had worked for him in a week that could not play to his usual strengths of artistry and attention to detail. But Belle had to say, without any shadow of favouritism creeping in, that Gold’s work outshone them, and she could tell that Granny felt the same way. It was clear that this was his favoured method, this was where his strengths definitely lay and he had swallowed his fears and let his talent show. Belle gave him an encouraging smile, and she could have sworn that he grew an inch taller under her gaze.

It was time for judges and presenters to retire for more deliberations and for the tent to reset, but Belle knew that the competitors would not be kept waiting for long.

“I don’t think that there’s any doubt, really,” Granny said to Belle once they had finished their piece to camera in which they had been, as usual, cryptic as to who would be wearing the crown and who would be sent home. “Gold’s certainly been hiding his light under a bushel for these past couple of weeks. He’s really hit it out of the park, today and yesterday. We’ve found his niche.”

“Yes.” Belle smiled. “We definitely have. Hopefully this will boost his confidence in the coming weeks as well, knowing how well he can do.” She had really enjoyed seeing Gold come out of his shell this weekend, showing the pride and confidence in his bakes in a way that he had not shown before. There was less nervousness in his manner and it made for far easier conversation in front of the cameras. Hopefully it would last.

“And on the other end of the scale…”

Belle gave a sad nod. “I know. As sad as the situation is, I think it’s something of a foregone conclusion.” She glanced over at the tent. “Ready to face the music?”

Granny nodded. “As we’ll ever be. Come on. Let’s gather Ella and Ursula and deliver the news.”

As they entered the tent, Belle could see that Gold had clasped his hands together in his lap tightly, trying to mask just how much they were shaking and unfortunately failing.

“Well bakers, a decision has been made,” Ella said. “This week’s star baker has shown fantastic flair throughout all three challenges and has brought a new-found love of sheep’s cheese to the tent. Our star baker for bread week is Raymond.”

Gold blinked. Although this was what he had hoped for, now that it had happened, he couldn’t quite believe it. Elsa threw her arms around him, almost knocking him off his perch, and the others were looking at him with admiration. He’d done it. He’d really done it. At least there was no doubt in his mind any more that he’d managed to impress Belle.

“Unfortunately, as you know we can’t take everyone with us, and it’s with great sadness that I have to announce that the baker who will not be joining us next week is Aurora.”

The young woman shrugged, accepting the consolation of the presenters and her fellow bakers, and Belle went over to join in the commiserations. Granny was already giving her a pep talk and encouraging her to keep baking in spite of the mishaps she’d suffered during the weekend.

“The trouble with bread is that you only get one chance at it,” Rory said with a sigh. “If it goes wrong you can’t just whip up another batch. With all the proving and waiting and resting that goes on… It’s not like cake. If you mess up a sponge you can get a new one out in ten minutes and no-one need be any the wiser. Oh well. I’ll see you all again for the grand finale. I’m expecting great things from whoever makes it there. And signed copies of the inevitable recipe book from the winner!”

It was sad to see Aurora leave the tent, the youngest and most fresh-faced of the bakers. Perhaps she might have had a better time of it if she hadn’t been perpetually tired throughout the baking days, but that couldn’t change the facts. Belle wished her well and moved on to talk to the other contestants, congratulating and commiserating where appropriate. It was always easier to talk without the cameras on them, and Belle liked to reassure all the competitors that she was human too, that she had the same baking disasters as they did on occasion, and she was more than just the judge on the other side of the table who could make or break their day with her criticism. Eventually her rounds took her to where she really wanted to be: speaking to Gold. She hadn’t deliberately left him till last, but she had tried to make her rounds look nonchalant. Although she had Granny’s blessing, it would really not do for any of the other contestants or crew to accuse her of favouritism towards Gold and result in either one of them having to leave the competition. This week she felt a little less trepidation - Gold’s win was well-deserved and the feeling in the tent was unanimous in this regard.

“Congratulations.”

Gold looked over at her and smiled, a bright, confident smile, which was so wonderful to see after all the little half-smiles that had she had received from him during the past couple of weekends. He had really come into his own this week and he deserved every minute of his success.

“Thank you. I’ve already called my son and Aunt Elvira to tell them. I was too excited to wait till I got home.”

“And so you should be. It was a triumphant performance, and I’m sure that we’re going to continue to see great things from you.”

Gold raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I’m well aware of the Star Baker curse.”

Rumours of the curse had sprung up during the last couple of seasons, as there had been a worrying trend of star bakers being eliminated - or at least performing poorly - in the week after their crowning. Belle herself didn’t set all that much store in it; she felt that it was probably down to the format of the show and the way the bakes were scheduled - often a dough week would be followed by a more artistic week, and she’d already espoused at length on how the two required such vastly different skills.

“Well, Jefferson and Regina haven’t suffered from it particularly,” she said, trying to reassure him. “There’s no reason why you should succumb now. Perhaps this year the curse has been broken.”

“You don’t think there’s a curse, do you?”

“Well, no.”

They were prevented from any further conversation by Astrid running over to tell Gold that his taxi had arrived and would he mind sharing a lift to the station with Mal? Anxious as he was to get back to his sheep, Gold took his leave of Belle and was soon gone from the tent. Belle watched him leave. She hoped that he was anxious to get home and celebrate his victory, not that he was anxious to get away from her.

The other contestants were leaving in dribs and drabs, and soon only Belle and Ella were left with the skeleton crew of production runners who were cleaning up from the day’s filming. Ella was sitting on one of the workbenches, devouring leftover baguette bread from yesterday. Where she’d got in from was anyone’s guess, but at least it wasn’t going to waste.

“Another one bites the dust,” she observed. “Now we get onto the trickier stuff. Do you think he can hold his own?”

“Who, Gold?” Belle came over to the bench and perched beside Ella.

“Yes. I always feel like he’s going to run a mile whenever he sees me. I can’t be that terrifying, can I?”

“You’d be surprised, Ella. I think he’s got a somewhat nervous disposition. But he’s getting on all right so far. There’s inner steel in there.”

“He’s a lot stronger than everyone gives him credit for. Including himself. I think that Mr Gold might come out of the woodwork and surprise us all.” She paused, then leaned in towards Belle, pulling down her sunglasses a little way and giving her a knowing look over the top of them. “If I didn’t know better I’d say that you were more than a little enamoured by our sweet little sheep farmer.”

Belle blushed bright red and looked down at her shoes. “Did Granny tell you?”

“No, I’m incredibly observant, even when I am wearing sunglasses, no matter what Ursula might say.”

“Oh no…” Belle pressed her hands over her face. If Ella had picked up on it then who knew who else might have done? “Do you think it’s caught on camera?”

“Nah.” Ella stuffed another hunk of bread in her mouth as Ursula came over.

“Are you sure you don’t want any jam with that?” she asked, and Ella shook her head, ignoring her partner for a moment in favour of continuing to make Belle squirm.

“You’re fine on camera, and they’ll edit out anything that looks weird. I mean I’m pretty sure we’re going to get Mal and Regina necking behind the freezers before the series is over. No, I just get the impression when you’re talking to him one on one when everything has stopped for the day.”

Belle continued to stare at her shoes. So, her attraction to Gold was something of an open secret.

“Mind you, you’ve got competition.” Ursula sat down on Belle’s other side. “Zelena worries me. There’s something about her that I really don’t trust. They normally screen out the ones that they think are going to be problematic during the auditions.”

“She’s a good baker,” Belle said, thinking back to Zelena’s creations over the weekend. “We can’t get rid of her because we think she’s creepy. Even though I think we all think she’s creepy.”

“Maybe Gold could file a harassment suit against her,” Ursula suggested.

“He’s too nice.”

Belle sighed. “Something’s got to give. I can feel it, it keeps simmering.” She slipped off the table and made to leave the tent; they were the only ones left and it was clear that the runners wanted them to leave. “We’ve managed to avoid major scandals on the show so far but I get the terrible sinking feeling that this year we won’t manage it. We’ve always been safe and polite and quintessentially British, and I really don’t want to lose that reputation because we get some petty drama going on.”

The three women left the tent, making their way over the carpark, with Ella and Ursula getting into Ella’s ridiculously melodramatic vintage car.

“You know, Belle,” Ella called out of the driving seat. “If it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure that your feelings are not at all unrequited!”

Belle stopped with her hand on the car door, and she smiled. Whilst she had enjoyed talking to Gold and she had got the impression he reciprocated that enjoyment, she hadn’t yet considered the possibility of him feeling the same way towards her as she did towards him, it was still too early. But now Ella had pointed it out, and she thought back over their little chats. Perhaps she hadn’t picked up on it at the time because of his inherent shyness, but now that she thought about it…

Even with the threat of Zelena looming over the production, Belle began her drive home with a wide smile on her face.

=====

Next time: The bakers tackle pies and tarts, Gold hides under his workbench again, and Leroy delivers up a bake-off first.

=====

Baguette recipe here

(It says you need a linen couche for shaping the baguettes but a few tea towels work just as well.)

Gold’s showpiece loaf is loosely based off this recipe

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #Fic: Love is a Layered Cake

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pricescigar · 1 year

Text

Cursed Ocean

(Pt. 5)

Elvira did get some rest as Adler advised her to, only for a couple of hours though, yet it didn't satisfy her enough. She had her usual same old nightmares, her tossing and turning in the bed sheets and nothing more. Sometimes she could easily fall back asleep, but this time it wasn't the case… When she woke up, all she could see was the sea endlessly. Not even a single island in sight. This was the most beautiful, and scariest part about all the oceans in the world. Sometimes there was no sight of life in sight, but sometimes the beauty of complete nothingness was there as well.

It was rather strange to not hear Stitch playing his organ in the morning, afternoon, evening, and night. The same old song he used to play, was so haunting and powerful at the same time. She remembered how the tune played in her head, sometimes she found herself humming to it too. Now she could no longer hear it. All that Elvira was met now was the silence of the Ocean, the waves crashing onto the ship as it sailed. Rocking back and forth ever so gently. Thanks to the high gust of winds recently, Adler's crew managed to escape from the Flying Dutchman with no problems at all. It had been a long day after all, give or take, rather even full. Sometimes it would take days for Elvira to process what happened to her. Thankfully she had been given her own space to be left alone with her thoughts. The good and bad.

None had ever been able to tell the tale about how they endured the Flying Dutchman, hell. Maybe Elvira got a little too lucky on her part, maybe too lucky. Did she really deserve to live? Did she really deserve to go on that ship, while at the same time Elvira watched her crew mates die? So many thoughts and feelings were going through her own mind, she didn't know whether she actually deserved to have survived or not. Even now… Elvira was having a hard time getting used to the fact that she only survived because one of Stitch's men pointed out that they needed a cook.

Even when Adler's crew was now accommodating her, they were heading over to the Iala Cruces, in order to get Stitch's heart. She didn't like where this was going, not only just she got saved from them… But now Elvira was only bait, to get Stitch out of his hiding place so they could kill him. If only there was a way that she could tell him… Maybe Stitch already knew? She didn't know.

Most of all… She missed Stitch as well. More than she'd liked to admit it herself, It hurt her. She missed the crew too. Even if they were a little annoying at times. Despite the circumstances she experienced three months ago, this whole thing that happened to her… It almost gave her purpose? She always knew that there was never a place in the world for her, she knew she wouldn't really belong anywhere. Even in her home that she grew up in. Her father sought to do that from the day he abandoned her when she was a baby. And only for her to be left in the hands of her godfather and godmother, even though he tried his best to make her feel special, a little princess, treating her like she was his own daughter. Of all the gold, books, arts and crafts supplies there could ever be in the whole world. Anything she could ask for, Elvira always got it! As she grew older… Elvira craved something different in her life.

Elvira knew she was in love with Stitch, deeply in love with him in fact. Of all the people there were in the world, she had to fall in love with the one Captain who had to forever operate the Flying Dutchman. She was an observer of all things— From the legend it was all true, Stitch didn't want to find anyone else to love again. He made a promise of that when he ripped his heart out. And how he also said women are the most dangerous creatures on earth, part of her wished she could take all the pain away from him. But that would never happen, he is a man without a heart.

She knew this love would forever be one sided, she could see that… Nothing could ever change that, it was one of those things that can't be changed after all.

It was another day of hard work, like any other day. Elvira took the chance to help out a little, thankfully… Elvira didn't have to cook for once. And it felt good to something more physical, rather than just standing there watching food boil and serve it to everyone. She chose to work in order to keep her mind occupied, it did work a little.

Adler's crew had their dinner early. Adler had this strange feeling Stitch would return, quicker than he would like to think himself. The Flying Dutchman could go under sea and rise up again in a completely different location with no problems, it did bring quite a scare to Elvira once. Which did get a laugh out of Stitch and his crew, alas Elvira didn't die. What was there to worry about?

"At least eat a little Elvira, please… I'm worried for you." Adler placed a plate down on the desk for Elvira, he noticed that she didn't want to leave his Cabin half of the time, when she wasn't helping out on the ship. Maybe she wanted more time alone? Either way, the man was understanding.

"I will…" Elvira muttered softly and she began to eat dinner, she knew Adler would want to kill Stitch. Both of the men had a long old rival, and even if it resulted in her getting injured… She would protect Stitch with her life. Even if she had to go against Adler's wishes.

Meanwhile on the Flying Dutchman …

Stitch himself eventually got used to Elvira's presence during the three months he took her on his ship, at first he saw her as a simple cook and nothing else. That's how she saw her. He didn't care if she was the captain of the Wolff's ship, those kinds of things never mattered. Until the time she rescued the team with such bravery… Then, Stitch saw things differently. Elvira saved all of them, she caught the enemies off guard and shot all of them before they could even do anything to them. Since then, Stitch has been grateful ever since. And the time she mended his wound as well.

And there was that feeling again… Stitch tried to ignore his feelings, he didn't want to fall in love again. Elvira… She's different. Different from Calypso. But… He vowed to not to fall in love again, why does this have to happen again?! The last thing Stitch wanted to do was fall in love.

Stitch observed the waters closely to see if it was safe enough for the ship to go under sea in order to get closer to Adler's location. He may not be able to walk on land right now, yet he would order his men if necessary, when things do go south. Luckily enough for them, the seas were in good condition to do so.

"Captain, are you sure she's worth all the trouble in getting her back? She's just a cook after all, I mean… We could always get new cooks, like we always did ages ago, you know?" Naga negotiated with Stitch and crossed his arms. He didn't understand why his Captain was so hellebore ob getting Elvira back, he suspected a little bit that she may have caught feelings for her. Just a little maybe.

"We found her just like how we found all the others, especially you, Naga. She's part of the crew now. And I'll be working hard to get her back either way. I do not want to put another soul in her place. I see it as a waste of my time." Stitch replied firmly, he wasn't in the mood for negotiations. Not now.

Naga simply nodded and he left Stitch to his devices before they would set off to find Elvira, Stitch watched Adler's ship to see in what direction they sailed off too…. And he knew where they were going. Lucky for them, the key is always in the place where it belonged. Around Stitch's neck.

"You won't get far, Adler… I'll make sure you'll never see the light of day again." Stitch placed the telescope down on his desk, before turning his heel and walked out of his Cabin. All of his crew was waiting for his orders. "You know what to do, men." He ordered.

Back at Adler's ship. . .

The sun began to rise down upon the horizon, and she still remained on Adler's ship. She isolated herself in the Cabin, Adler easily assumed she was still a little shaken up from being on the Flying Dutchman for all that time. But in fact it was something much more different than this… With Elvira being in love with Stitch, it entirely didn't help her feelings either.

Adler himself wished he could do something to help her, but at the end of the day… He could only do so much himself.

In the distance the Flying Dutchman rose from the sea, the water falling down from all the sails and wood, Stitch removed his hand from his hat, his clothes were wet but he didn't mind. He pointed over to Adler's ship in the distance.

"There." Stitch said. "Elvira is there." The men set the seals against and the ship began to slowly approaching over to Adler's ship. Old rivalry never dies it seems…

"Boss, the Flying Dutchman can be seen in the distance, seems he is serious about getting Elvira back." Sims gave Adler the telescope, and Adler took a look through it.

"Stitch wants a battle? Then we give him one. Stop the ship." Adler looked at Sims, Sims looked at Adler a little surprised. But he did what he was told, he and another pirate manned the anchor and the ship came to a stop, at that point they were by the Isla Cruces. All Adler needed to do was get that damn key from Stitch

The Flying Dutchman caught up easily, Stitch found it odd that Adler stopped his ship so willingly… Stitch could only grin, the order for his ship to be stopped beside Adler's ship, Stitch and Adler faced against each other. It had been a while since both parties had been against each other like this…

Elvira was walking around the Cabin, trying to keep herself occupied before she heard the commotion outside, she took the chance to look through the small Window. Hell even seeing Stitch's face again… It did make her smile a little.

"I believe you have Elvira, please, bring her back here, then I will no longer bother you." Stitch asked Adler, looking at him. "I won't even get my Kraken out this time to damage your ship this time."

"You destroyed her ship, killed her crew and now you want her back?" Adler glared at him. "Find another soldier to take over her place?" He replied firmly.

"You know how tedious it is to do that…" Stitch muttered before huffing. "This is your last chance Adler, hand her over so she could fulfil her time here."

"No chance." Adler shook his head in disagreement, his men got their pistols and swords ready just in case Stitch's men retaliated.

"Suit yourself then." Stitch shrugged, he quickly got out his pistol and he shot Adler in the shoulder, which caught him off guard. And that was the signal for Stitch's men to get on the ropes and swing over to Adler's ship in order to attack.

#call of duty #black ops cold war #cod cold war #black ops #vikhor stitch kuzmin #vikhor kuzmin #oc #ocs #elvira wolff #kuzvira

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pricescigar · 2 years

Text

Frank Woods x Elivra Wolff

Prompt: "I am happiest, when I'm next to you."

Requested by: @chrystallenex

GIF ISN'T MINE BELONGS TO: Frankwoods

Usually Elvira was the first one to always wake up, and the last to fall asleep. With Frank hearing the small shuffles, and slight movment in their bedroom. Hearing Elvira crawling into bed with him, going on her side of the bed. He would immediately wrap his arms around her, as she would with him too. Neither of them letting go of each other. Both of them falling asleep together. He didn't mind if she stayed up late sometimes, and she didn't mind if he stayed up late either. Yet most times, the two would simply go to bed together. Being in each others arms and falling asleep, for them it was the equivalent to having a warm glass of milk before bed. Obviously Frank loved being the big spoon most nights, wrapping his arms around his beloved Elvira. Making sure she was secure, safe and warm within his arms. However he loved Elvira being the big spoon also, as cute as it was. Frank loved it, almsot a soft spot for him. Whatever position they was in. They would sleep soundly regardless.

Luckily for today, both of them had some time off for once. So they could do whatever they wish. Recently they haven't been able to spend time together, with Elvira constant stuck with office work, or going on missions. Meanwhile Frank had to deal with oversea missions, and mission in country too. But requesting time off wasn't a problem at all. Both of them had deserved it, and what they would do was up for them to decide.

Maybe the two would go and watch a movie together at the Cinema? Going out into town? Bake together, there was so many things they could do. The latter would also be including; Spoiling Elvira, or the other way around. Elvira spoiling Frank, for sure he would love to take her over to Burger Town as he always would. It was a Friday luckily, so Frank had any excuse to.

Frank was the first one to wake up for once, he glanced down to Elvira who was still asleep in his arms. Her arms were securely wrapped around him, her hair a little messy. But it wasn't too bad, her chest softly going up and down as she slept; Whenever she slept in Frank's arms, she slept like a baby. He was surpsied to still see her asleep, but nevertheless. He knew she was extremely tired, he didn't dare to move an inch. He just took the time to admire her, which made him smile softly at the sight of her.

Elvira slowly woke up rubbing her eyes a little, before wrapping her arms back around Frank. Snuggling onto him, her eyes stayed closed momentarily before they opened again. Her eyes soon gazed up to Woods, who was still watching her she couldn't help but smile at him.

"Hm good morning darling... Is there something on my face?" Elvira asked in her sleepy tone, staying ever so close to him. Which Frank smile more at her cute and sleepy voice shaking his head.

"No, not at all. You look beautiful my love, as you always do. Did you sleep well?" Woods would ask her, his fingers slowly going through her curly hair gently.

"Ja I did, you know me dear. I always do when I'm beside you, you make me feel safe. Just as I keep you safe too. No nightmares at all." Elvira mused to him, as she chuckled softly.

Woods smiled and nodded in agreement; While her nightmares may have not been as frequent, that doesn't mean they've fully gone away forever. Fortunately, they still remain. "Well– We have our time off, don't we? I'm happy enough to stay in bed with you." He said pulling her even closer to him, so they was pratically entangled together.

"We'll have to get up soon you know, and have breakfast as well... And other things." Elvira said laying her head on his chest, even if she had time off. Having a schedule had always her in line, just so she had something to do in her time.

"I know my love, but were not going anywhere till you're relaxed. I might not ever let go, ever." Woods teased smirking at her, his signature and cheeky smirk she first fell in love with.

Elvira couldn't help but laugh, placing her hand on his cheek softly. Gently caressing it before placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "Alright then darling, you win. I'll relax, just for you." She would say, laying back down on his chest.

"Besides... I am happiest when I'm next you, always..." Woods whispered to her, as they cuddled together once more. Gradually they may have fallen asleep together again, just for a little while; But who cares, the love birds deserved their rest.

#call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #cod cold war #black ops #call of duty cold war #frank woods #frankvira #oc #ocs #elvira wolff #brooke's requested writings

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pricescigar · 3 years

Text

What if Perseus brought up Elvira Wolff?

Photo credit to the amazing @adlerboi

"You know what to do men, kill Dietrich Wolff and get Elvira Wolff out of that place and back to me."

The clock striked midnight on a cold January night in 1971, the silhouettes of four men appearing at the doorstep. A home that was supposed to be safe, secure, happy, filled with so many memories. No. This wasn't your typical home, not by a longshot. They could tell the moment they forcibly opened the door, and walked into the house together. All they could see that moment when they walked in: It was bland colours, no sense of brightness, positivity. A few family photos, but all of it remained desolate, no further decorations added... Sometimes when you walked into the kitchen, a faint smell of iron, could brush against your nose. And you'd inhale it. Others wouldn't seem to take much notice of it, and would just leave it as it is. But that smell of iron, seemed all too familiar. To the only two people who remained in the household anyways.

"Wolff, should be upstairs. Alphonso and Klaus, you get the kid. Stefan and I will deal with him." Jürgen quietly advised to the group, to which they replied with a simple nod.

With every creak that could be heard up on those staircases, getting louder and louder each time their footsteps were placed to it. Which caused and immediate squeak of a chair being pulled away and, footsteps approaching to the sound. The door opened to what seemed to be an office, the only form of light there was upstairs. Out came Dietrich walking over by the banisters to the stairs, approaching over to another door.

Placing his hands on the door handle, Dietrich opened the door. His eyes quickly laid onto the sleeping Elvira who was in her bed, fast asleep and cuddling her Teddy bear. The door finally closed, and Dietrich finally walking back to his office and shaking his head in disagreement. "I really need to get rid of that bear, she's far too old for it." He mumbled to himself, the door to his office finally closing.

There the men finally resumed, Alphonso and Klaus going to get Elvira. Jürgen and Stefan going over to Dietrich's office, to finally end him once and for all.

The two individual doors opening in sync, Elvira still asleep and Dietrich looking up immediately to the two men standing before him. "Jürgen... Stefan, what the hell are you doing here?! Is this a sick joke or something you got planned?!" Dietrich harshly whispered, of course he would act different around others. He would put in the persona as the caring, loving and affectionate father. To where other people, and strangers were concerned on his mind.

"Elvira? Elvira, wake up it's us. Alphonso and Klaus. We need to get out of here..." Alphonso spoke in a soft tone.

Elvira woke up with ease, rubbing her eyes while her hand was cuddling her Teddy bear. She sat up from her bed, looking around a little confused. A yawn escaping her lips, finally looking over seeing Alphonso and Klaus. "Klaus... Alphonso... What are you doing here? It's so late... And vater will be mad at you two for coming here." Elvira said looking at them. Of course she known them for a couple of weeks now, to see them here so late confused her.

"We're sorry Dietrich." Jürgen said immediately stabbing him in the middle of the throat, quickly pulling away as Stefan and Jürgen stepped back. Watching Dietrich chojekon his own blood, falling onto his desk. The test of the blood falling onto the paper as he bled out.

Alphonso and Klaus were left to pack most of Elvira's things, she didn't have a lot. But enough for now. They was too busy and too distracted to see Elvira slipping away from them, walking around to look for her father. The least she could do was say goodbye, he would get mad otherwise if she didn't say anything...

"Vater where are you?" Elvira's soft voice would be heard, as she approached over to her father's home office. Going up on her tip toes and reaching up to grab the door handle, and opened the door.

Jürgen and Stefan turned their head in sync, looking at each other. Hearing Elvira's voice before they both stood in front of Dietrich's dead body, just to make sure her young eyes wouldn't see the destruction these two had done.

"Elvira what are you doing back here? You should go back to Alphonso and Klaus?" Stefan said looking down at her, mentally he was panicking trying to hide a dead body from a child wasn't easy.

"But I wanted to say goodbye to Vater..." Elvira looked up at them, keeping the bear to her chest. At this moment of time she was confused in what was going on, everyone rushing around frantically. More or less, it did scare her a bit how everyone was rushing around.

"Oh we already did young one! We explained the whole situation to him don't worry!" Jürgen said to her in reassurance, and smiled to her.

Luckily Alphonso came to the rescue, he was walking around the hallway and found Elvira quickly walking in. "Elvira! There you are! Come we have to go, please don't run off like that again..." Alphonso replied to her in the most gentle tone as possible, lifting her up walking away from the room. Klaus walked out of Elvira's room, keeping it how it was. But without all of her clothes, books and little notebooks she had.

"Do you have your bear?" Alphonso said looking down at her, he didn't want her to lose her bear. Especially when they was going back to Russia, and would never return here again.

Elvira nodded as she showed him her bear smiling proudly to him. "He's here!" She said happily, Klaus and Alphonso walking out of the house. Going over to the car that was parked put not too far from the house.

Jürgen and Stefan quickly rushed out of the house, trying to remain at a normal and calm state they approached to the car. With Jürgen driving, and Stefan in the shotgun seat, they began to drive over to the airfield.

Elvira at this moment of time was confused, scared and tired all mixed together. Suddenly being woken up, dressed in her jacket, her things packed. Not being able to say goodbye to her father. She stayed in Alphonso's arms occasionally fidgeting and feeling unease.

"What's going on... I wasn't able to say goodbye to Vater..." Elvira said to Alphonso looking up at him.

"Don’t worry, you'll be here with us. We'll protect you I promise... It's that..." Alphonso became hesitant, thinking of his words carefully before then smiling softly at her. "How about an early holiday?"

"Ooh! Ok Where are we are we going?" Elvira asked in excitement, this definitely interested her now.

"You'll see!" Alphonso kept the excitement up, to keep Elvira more at ease. An hour or so had passed, and the group had arrived at the airfield. The plane was already there, and men were putting a few cargo on there. Meanwhile Jürgen was on the phone to Perseus before they would leave to go back to Russia.

"Elvira is uneasy, confused... And all of those things. Luckily Alphonso is distracting her, he's better at taking care of children than we are." Jürgen said, shaking his head.

"Well keep her entertained then, she still needs to sleep though... Let Alphonso tell her one of his stories." Perseus simply suggested.

"Oh god, not his stories... Please... Any but that." Jürgen groaned in annoyance, Alphonso was known to tell such weird and bizarre stories. It always left people questioning it all, rather strange at times especially. Always in the worst of situations when everyone tries to be serious, then Alphonso decides to tell everyone his famous bear story. At any given time, and at any opportunity he had to tell the story in the first place.

"Yes. His stories, just let him tell one. She'll probably fall asleep anyways, and good luck on your journey." Perseus kept the conversation short as possible, so no one could ever possibly track them.

Jürgen ended the call immediately and sighed in annoyance, and looked over to Alphonso who was keeping Elvira company. She was in his arms, absolutely refusing to sleep. Alphonso even sung a lullaby to possibly help, but that didn't work either. The rest of the workers got the last preparations done, it wasn't long before they all left the airfield on the plane. Finally on their way to Russia.

"Still can't sleep Elvira?" Jürgen asked, to which Elvira replied by nodding her head feeling tired and unsettled. And with that it gave Alphonso the greatest idea.

"How about I tell you the story about the hairless bear?" Alphonso asked looking at Elvira, to which everyone in sync groaned in annoyance.

"No! Anything but that!" Stefan replied, completely disagreeing.

"We all heard this a thousand times over Alphonso, choose another one." Klaus advised to him.

"Shush! Elvira hasn't heard this one though." Alphonso added, with a smile across his face.

"Hairless bear...?" Elvira looked at Alphonso in curiosity, but also with slight confusion.

Alphonso nodded as he blared his throat, before he would begin to tell the story to Elvira. "This is the story of a bear named Honey. Because he liked to eat honey, it was his favourite dish. But he had no friends because he was scary. He had no hair. No one knew why, until one day the donkey named waffle decided to investigate. He noticed that Honey was eating so much honey that he was putting it on him, the honey was sticking to the leaves, rocks and it pulled out his hair. The donkey decided to go and help him by bringing him pots and spoons. So that he can eat properly! Since his hair has grown back and in addition to having a best friend who is the donkey, the bear has been able to make friends again! The end!"

Jürgen has his hand against his face, shaking his head in disappointment. The remaining three had blank plastered faces, unamused of the same old story they'd always hear. Elvira however just looked up at him, she was a little confused but the story did put her at ease.

"Poor bear..." Elvira said softly feeling bad for the bear, she looked to her own stuffed grey bear. Looking up at Alphonso as she huffed her very own bear with care and protection. "Well I won't let Smokey do that so he won't lose his hair..."

"Oh but don't worry! He has friends now!" Alphonso replied to her, he wasn't going to stop there. He made sure he would extend it, until she would finally fall asleep. Hearing her talk about her own bear made him smile, if his jobs were so dangerous sometimes... The thought of having his own family sounded nice.

The story went on and on before Elvira would finally all asleep. Jürgen and Stefan both individually both bet she fell asleep out of boredom, the latter Alphonso was happy that the story made her feel better. Elvira fell asleep in Alphonso's arms, hugging her bear closely. Before he would lay her down in one of the seats gently, they had a spare pillow and blanket for her too. He made sure she was tucked in well, and would be warm. By the time they would get to Russia the weather will be cold. The group hoped to an extent, that she would still be asleep for the whole journey.

"She better not have a nightmare about this damn hairless bear, that'll be your problem to deal with." Klaus looked at Alphonso.

"Oh she won't! I promise, she didn't look scared at all. I think..." Alphonso muttered as he smiled at them.

The remaining of the journey, Elvira still perfectly stayed asleep. Even through the odd turbulence, it didn't bother her an inch. Even when they landed and got back into the car, beginning the journey back to Perseus' safehouse. The girl was still asleep, of course she must've been exhausted. Finally arriving to the safehouse, the car doors opening and closed behind them. Heading into the safehouse, still with little Elvira in Alphonso's arms.

"Ah you four are finally back... And you got her... Elvira, to finally see her safe puts me at ease." Perseus would say approaching over to them, staring at her still seeing her asleep. He hoped Elvira still remembered him, it would've only been a couple of weeks or so since he had seen her. He wanted to get her out of there immediately, and so his wish had been granted.

"We'll put her in one of the bedrooms to let her sleep a little longer." Alphonso said walking over to one of the bedrooms, whole the others stayed behind.

"How did you two kill Dietrich?" Perseus asked, turning over and looking over to Jürgen and Stefan. He was well aware that he was dead, how they did it. That's what he wanted to know most.

"Stabbed in the throat, we wore gloves. No finger prints left behind. No doubt the police, or even the CIA or even the damn MI6 would most probably get involved in this." Jürgen replied.

"If you wore gloves, then you four have nothing to worry about... It is the child I'm worried about if we become aware of them, they'll most probably look for her." Perseus explained, he remained calm and collective surprisingly. He remained hidden for years long enough, then he could easily hide the Wolff's child from the nasty Americans.

"You seem a bit too calm about this, we just took a child away from her home and into a country she doesn't even know. Yeah she already met you, but you know children and their curiosity..." Stefan would say, raising a brow a little.

Perseus simply scoffed, shaking his head looking at Stefan with a dead and serious look. "The way that man talked about his own child, his flesh and blood... I couldn't tolerate it. That child lost her own mother, Wolff lied what actually happened to Mia. Volkov told me everything as well. She was far too quiet, shy, and scared around others. Dietrich changed himself around others... So no one else would batter an eye... Her being here will be good." He finally finished his small lecture, putting his arms behind his back. At least now she was safe and sound.

"Well yeah... He did treat her badly... She was either in her room studying a lot, Dietrich teaching her things, with her piano tutor or Russian tutor." Klaus finally spoke up.

"See? All work and no play... That man didn't know how to be a father... I'll give her the childhood she deserves, that is my final word." Perseus added.

Alphonso was seen walking back after putting Elvira into the bedroom, and now finally standing beside the others once again.

"Still perfectly asleep... She might wake up soon, but we have to go back to work now. We'll be back at the KGB if you need us." He said to Perseus, he had grown attached to the little girl. But the four KGB agents would always be there for her, to think of them as older brothers that Elvira could look up to.

"Good work you four you did good today, see you all soon." Perseus would say his final goodbyes, watching them walk put of the door. He would resume his work for a little bit, to keep him distracted before the little one would wake up.

And of course the hours had passed, Elvira woken up from her sleep. Rubbing her eyes, looking around to be in her new surroundings. The bag that Klaus had was placed in the room also, left untouched and the same as it was. Elvira removed the blanket from her body, her teddy bear still close to her before moving her body and getting out of the bed. Curiosity strike her as ever, approaching over to the door and reaching up to open it and walking out of the room. The ever expanding of the narrow hallway, it had bland colours of a darkish green for the walls. Plain flooring, a few propaganda posters upon the wall, darted information and texts in Russian various different pictures containing members of Perseus, the Spyring alone. Her eyes looked up to the pictures, the first one her eyes laid on was the one of her father. The off thing was, the picture had a large 'X' Across his face in red, whatever it meant to Elvira? She didn't know.

Perseus had the urge to check how Elvira was, just to see if she was still asleep or if she had finally woke up. Walking down the hall, his blue eyes darted to the small girl who was staring up at the various pictures. At least she didn't go to far, though he would've panicked a little if he had ever opened the door and she wasn't there at all. He stopped within his path, keeping his distance not wanting to scare her or make her nervous in the slightest. Perseus was a rather tall and broad man after all, keeping himself in shape. It was no easy job. But any child would be scare of a man whom was quite large and muscular, to be seen as a giant or maybe a huge monster or some kind. Clearing his throat gently, before kneeling down to Elvira's height to not intimidate her.

"Elvira? How are you? Did you sleep well? Its’ me Perseus, you remember me don't you?" Perseus said looking at her, he softly spoke to her in a calm tone. His voice was calm and anyone could be, she was all but a child after all. He didn't want to scare her, he didn't want to make her cry, he didn't want her to shy away or anything.

Elvira looked over to the footsteps, they were unfamiliar but how quickly she turned as of the fight or flight kicked in within the child. But easily recognising his face, she seemed less tense now. She seemed less nervous about meeting Perseus, rather than the first. "Hallo Perseus, I'm ok danke... And I slept ok! How are you? And where am I? Vater will get mad because we left unannounced, I wasn't able to say goodbye also..." She explained to him.

So sweet, so innocent and so polite. Perseus found it more sad rather than cute really, if Dietrich wasn't such a cockroach and so cruel to her. Maybe then and there he would find it more adorable, he listened to her as he nodded. How the hell was he supposed to answer? Perseus would have to think something quickly, and that something would have to be less suspicious to the girl as well.

"At least you had a good night's sleep, that is good Elvira... Mad you say? I wouldn't think so, last I heard he seemed to be ok with it. But you don't need to worry about that anymore young one." Perseus added, with reassurance in the tone of his voice. As much as he hated lying, but he wouldn't bluntly tell to her that he was responsible for the death of her own father.

Elvira looked at him a little confused, she recalled very well her own father would always get frustrated at the silliest of things. That indeed did scare her a couple of times, for someone so little and for someone so young. She knew what to do whenever her father would be mad, and not what to do whenever he's mad also. But she nodded to him in agreement. "Oh I understand, well along as he isn't mad then. I never liked it when he was mad..." Elvira admitted, holding her bear closely to her. She overheard many times he wanted to take the bear away from her, with his own excuse saying 'She didn't need it anymore, as she was far too old for it.' Maybe that now Elvira would be here for now, maybe all of that would change then?

"Well you'll be here for now, you'll be under my care. Remember Solovetsky? We're here, like I showed you in the pictures." He reminded her, hanging his hand out to the young girl. Perseus kept his eyes on her, though the look in his eyes were so gentle and so kind. Of course his agents and no one else would ever see him like that, Elvira was a child after all the last thing wanted to do was scare her.

Elvira gently took his hand, and holding her bear in her other hand securely. To which Perseus slowly stood up and still holding her hand. Finally standing up straight, he was ready to show Elvira around her forever new home.

"Ready to walk around Elvira? I'll show you everything, and then I can make you something to eat ok?" Perseus replied looking down to her.

"Yes I'm ready!" Elvira replied to him, looking up at him. It was the first time Perseus saw her face lit up with excitement, it tug on his heart strings a little. She wasn't shy, she wasn't scared genuinely the look Elvira had, filled with such curiously. Perseus began to show her around the safehouse, and outside as well for most of the morning.

Perseus spent the morning showing Elvira around the safehouse, and outside where guards resided. Patrolling around while Perseus happily had Elvira with him, holding her little hand gently showing her around much more. Before then making breakfast for her, there he would spend the rest of the day with Elvira. Completely ignoring his work, soon it became evening the two spending the whole day together. His father instincts and fatherly side showing much more, for her to get used to the sudden timezone change. Perseus put Elvira to bed early, hoping she would sleep.

Elvira however struggled to sleep, she didn't know what to do and didn't want to disturb Perseus either. Fearing he might get frustrated if she ever did, the door then opened and Perseus walked into her bedroom just to check up on her.

"Oh... You're not sleeping... Something the matter?" Perseus asked, he was worried a little approaching over to her bed sitting at the end of it.

"... I can't sleep Perseus... I'm sorry..." Elvira spoke softly, part of her was scared and nervous pus not knowing what could happen next. But she was confused fused as to why he wasn't mad at her for such a thing, however she didn't let it get to her too much and stayed where she was.

"Hm... Would you like me to tell you a story then? A story to calm you down? It may help you sleep." Perseus suggested to her, to which Elvira nodded. Now, Perseus wasn't good at telling stories, yet alone to a child. He had to think long and hard, but maybe not so much. Anything that could pop up into his mind, maybe he should tell her?

"I'll tell you about the Baba Yaga." Perseus said.

"Baba Yaga?" Elvira looked at him confused, she looked at Perseus as he would begin to tell the story.

"Hmm well. She is usually personified by a witch known for her cruelty and horrifying appearance. Sometimes she appears as a young and beautiful woman in some stories. Hair in battle, she does not wear the traditional headscarf on her head, what was once rather frowned upon, even scandalous for Russian peasants." He began to explain, he used his hands as expressions to keep it interesting and much more expressive for such a story. "She also claims to be the guardian of the water fountain of life and death. According to legend, she would age by a year each time she was asked a question, which does not prevent him from rejuvenating by drinking a decoction of blue roses. She is considered a devourer of human beings (especially little girls.) It is said that this effect is due in particular to its mouth stretching from the earth to the gates of hell and embellished with tearing steel teeth. Despite her ferocious appetite, she is rather skinny, even skeletal. She moves by flying squatting in a magic mortar, using a grinding wheel (pestle) as a rudder and she meticulously erases it's traces with a silver birch broom. In some stories, she is also considered a wise man helping pure hearts or heroes by offering them magical gifts."

Elvira listened to the whole story, with such interest. Best part was she didn't seen scared at all, not one bit. Which Perseus found odd, but he continued to tell the story anyways.

"Baba Yaga lives in a home. She moves forward with her two chicken feet, and that is the end of Baba Yaga... A very short but simple story." Perseus finally finished, seeing Elvira settling down and slowly falling asleep. Perseus tucked her in, making sure she was comfortable. He couldn't believe when he saw that she wasn't scared, it was interesting. "Sleep well, young one." He said softly.

Meanwhile back in Germany, Berlin, the police, The CIA and MI6 were now finally crowded around the Wolff household. The multiple flashing flights, various people taking photographs of Dietrich's dead body. The house itself was a mess, excluding Elvira's own room.

Helen Park the MI6 agent, strategic, intelligent and sneaky as ever. Specially investigating Dietrich Wolff, and occasionally when it came to the Russian arms dealer, Anton Volkov came into it as well.

"This is a nightmare... Who in the world would want to kidnap a child, no DNA traces to be found." Park spoke, looking at the knife that was in the bag. The many thoughts running through her mind, if could only mean one thing. Perseus.

#Perseus #oc #own oc #call of duty #black ops cold war #cod cold war #black ops #cod #call of duty cold war #elvira wolff #dietrich wolff

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 3 years

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Saint Jude's Miracle: A Javier Peña x OFC (Isa) Fanfic (Chapter II)

Summary: Chapter two is a little plot heavier than Chapter 1. Javier wakes up the next morning after the raid he had attended as a consultant for the DEA and the questions he avoided during the night are still very much unanswered and Isa, his wife, needs to know more about what’s going on. The second part of the chapter is in the past so we get to know how Javi got to be a consultant and how this affect his family life.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Domestic Javi!, fluff, implied sexy times. Spanish and thoughts in cursive, translations are between parenthesis right after the dialogue line.

A/N: Hey, thanks to everybody that liked and reblogued. I was a bit weary of uploading this ‘cos this fic feels more like a characters study than any other thing. I’m just fascinated by Javi, from this chapter plot will move faster. S.

Chapter 1

Double life

"Daddy, wake up" Elvira grabs her father's arm that rests languidly at the side of the bed and shakes it until he answers:

“Morning" his face smashed against the pillows and his brown hair disheveled

"Good morning" she kisses him on the cheek and stays really close to his face, still pretty much asleep Javi starts snorting softly again “Daddy wake up!”

"You're hungry?" Javier clears his throat and opens widely his eyes as to convince his body that it has to get up. Elvi grins at him, with those honey eyes and that crooked smile she is the cutest creature on earth.

"You lost another one" he points at her mouth

"Yeah, yesterday, it was moving really funny so mami convinced me to get it out. I didn't even cry!" She tells proudly

"Such a strong girl! Let's get you a good breakfast then, what do you want?"

She smirks devilish and looks over Javier’s shoulder to make sure her mother doesn’t hear, but she finds her laying on bed completely naked and she seems puzzled for a second

"Why is mummy naked?"

"Oh" Javier pushes the covers over Isa that sleeps soundly. "You want those sugary things...the captain..."

"Cap’n Crunch!" Elvira raises her small arms excited

"Yeah, let's get those"

Javier adjusts his underwear under the sheets making sure everything is in place and gets out of bed. He lifts Elvira to his chest while she giggles.

"I love you, daddy" she holds his face on his little hands and he thinks his heart is about to explode.

"I love you too" Javier kisses her forehead, resting his child's head on his just for a second. He feels how the tangles around his heart become undone with her small, warm body against his. Everything seems kinder, happier, like if all of the sudden sunshine had pierced him deep inside where he hid his fears, regrets and pain.

He smells her hair for a second and then leaves her gently on the ground

"Let's eat"

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The light between the curtains is like a knife to her eyes even under the covers. Her body is exhausted, her muscles relaxed and unwilling to cooperate to get her up. Isabel had heard her daughter’s laughter but thought that Javier could handle the situation and make up for the time he had expend who knows where the day before.

She doesn’t complain about being busy all the time with Elvira, she actually really likes it and is dreading the moment when summer will be over and she’ll have to spend the day alone with Elvi being at school. But every day she finishes the daily routines tired and instantly falling asleep when she goes to bed, after juggling between doing the chores and entertaining her daughter. It has been months since Javier’s head was elsewhere.

Knowing she is not gaining any more sleep, she gets up. The heat of Texas comes through the glass windows and she feels that even as naked as she is she could melt.

Isa puts on one of the big, old, soft t-shirts that Javier rarely uses and a pair of his shorts. Wearing his clothes, with his scent still lingering on them, is one small solace she finds when he’s away. She takes her nightgown and panties and throws them in the laundry bin, seeing Javier‘s clothes from last night, she grabs them and inspects the pockets before throwing it with the rest of clothes. She finds a few coins, a pen and a half emptied Marlboro packet that she squeezes on her hand. Maldito veneno (Damned poison)

At the kitchen table, Elvira is telling every single detail of her pool day at the neighbor’s house that Javier had missed. When Isa arrives, she hugs her daughter from behind and kisses her head before grabbing a cup of coffee from the kitchen counter.

"Look, daddy prepared breakfast" she says stuffing her mouth with those multicolored cereals.

"Oh, I see, he grabbed a bowl, poured the cereal and the milk and voilà." She kneels beside her but is smiling directly at Javier. “Daddy of the year” she raises her cup and Javi smacks his lips but says nothing.

"No me diste los buenos días, princesa" (You didn’t say good morning to me, princess) Isabel holds Elvira’s hair and starts to untangle her mane with her fingers.

"Buenos días, mami" she kisses her leaving a sticky mark on her skin.

"After that you will eat a piece of fruit, me oiste?"

"Sí" she smiles engulfing another full spoon too big for her little mouth .

"And I don't get a good morning?" Javier adds looking at his wife over the cup of black coffee.

Isabel walks slowly towards him and brushes her lips on his forehead. She opens her right hand in front of him, the Marlboro packet squished inside.

"Morning"

With a dramatic gesture, she opens the trash can and throws the plastic packet angrily. Javi observes her but says nothing.

"You're mad at daddy?" Elvira asks looking between the two her little face concerned.

"A little" Isa responds

"Why?" Her little voice breaks

"I misbehaved. I didn't listen to your mother" Javier answers and pinches his kid chubby cheek softly “That’s why you have to listen to her always”

"Have you apologized?" Elvira leaves the bowl aside as to fully focus on this pressing matter and crosses her arms over the table

"I have, many times" Javier faces his wife with a smirk

"Twice" she clarifies “and they're not enough"

"Never" Javier sips coffee from his cup and winks at his wife. Elvira looks at them confused.

"Mami if he has apologized I think you have to forgive him"

“Yeah, I guess I have to" Isabel takes a sit at Javier's right side and holds his hand on hers. The simple golden ring in both their hands makes her feel a pinch on her heart, she was so young and so scared when they got married not knowing what she could expect from him and, and on top of that, having a newborn baby that demanded all her attention.

Now, 6 years later she can even begin to express how fiercely she loves her daughter and how all the sacrifices she made were all worthy for her beautiful baby.

Javier is another thing. Sometimes she thinks of him as the sea, something you can see, touch and be submerged in, but in the end there is a depth you are not able to understand. There are things that lie on the bottom of his heart and mind that she is not welcome to visit. And she loves him, and has an ardent passion and need for him but she feels as if he’s slipping through her fingers every time she tries to hold him.

"Can I finish breakfast watching TV, please?" Elvi’s question gets Isa out of her thoughts.

"Yes, but grab an apple"

The little girl jumps out of her chair already chanting some song she knows from her favorite cartoon show.

"So what was the operation that you had last night?"

Isa usually asks him about his job every morning and Javi always answers briefly without many details, mainly because he is not that interested but when he decided to counsel for the police, she started to insist more, trying to calm her worries, but Isabel grows more and more anxious with his vague answers. She had met him after leaving the DEA, and though he hadn’t told her about his life in Colombia, she knows that Javi was a broken man, lost in dark memories. In those six years of marriage he had been better, he was still the same, but he smiled more, was kinder, more open. But the shadow of his old self lurks through the house and Isa feels how her anxiety twists her stomach watching his husband crumble before her eyes.

"There were a few trucks passing the borders, they suspected they were hiding drugs” he finished his coffee and casually eats cereal from the box

"Why on earth would you be there at the moment they caught the transport? I mean, why were you on the raid?"

"You’re asking if I was ever in danger. The answer is no, I'm here, am I not?" Javi took her hand that still holds him and kisses her knuckles.

"Yes, you are, but my question is..."

"But" he sighs

"You're smoking again; you are not sleeping quite right. You think I haven't noticed? What is going on?"

"I'm fine"

"You're stressed"

"I said I'm fine"

"Then why are you back to the old habits?"

"You really are going to just drink a coffee for breakfast?"

"Don't change the conversation, Peña"

"Look, there's nothing to worry about. I was just there to help them out since I’m experienced” he turns the chair closer to her and poses his hands over her knees softly caressing her with the pads of his fingers “But everything is fine”

"Alright" she concedes "so is it done? The operation?" She looks at him from under her eyelashes

"I don't know, maybe they need me a few more times"

She’s about to say something when he presses his lips against hers and gets up saying "I'm going to see if I can repair the AC, it's fucking hot in here"

"Language" Isa says before he leaves the kitchen.

She finishes the coffee her gaze fixed on the trash can where she has thrown the cigarettes. Too nervous to eat anything she starts cleaning up the kitchen. The lasagna from last night still intact on the counter, the repetitive songs on the TV is loud and she feels the headache coming.

“Elvi turn it down, please!” The girl ignores her the first time, and a second...and a third time.

“¡Elvira Peña, baja la tele ahora mismo!” (Elvira Peña, turn down the TV right now!) She screams coming to the living room.

The kid pouts and turns it down looking angrily at her; the apple she took is still intact by her side “And eat your fruit!”

Gosh, this is what I’ve become, the annoying wife and the tiring mum

Javier doesn’t know many things, but one thing that is always true is that shit follows him like a dog after a bone at every step of his life. After all the chaos that occurred with Cali and him leaving the DEA, he had spent a few month with Chucho back in Laredo. But soon enough, the atmosphere grew thicker consuming the air in his lungs and he woke up every day sweating and out of breath. Dreams of blood were leaking from the darkest parts of his memory polluting his nights.

“Mijo, ¿qué pasó allá?” (Son, what happened there?)his father asked every time and he found himself out of words. Not because he hadn’t them in him, but out of fear that if he began speaking the words would choke him and the disappointment he’d see on his father’s eyes. If they only knew he thought. If they only knew the things I did.

So after a time, he had to leave home again. It was better for both of them to be parted. Javier found the most boring job out there with his skills: Consulting companies that imported and exported things from Latin America. He translated documents, made calls in Spanish, and basically died a little every day in an office job, with bad coffee from a machine and many cigarettes each day to cope with the absolute weariness.

But again, shit followed him. StarsTextile Exports INC, nothing more than a normal company that passed, apparently, textile goods from South America to the US but you just had to dig a little to see the shady numbers they managed, a tangled list of companies’ names and banks in various tax havens. When he untangled all that mess what was left was a clear link to the biggest Cartel in Mexico. Shit. He even thought for a moment to let it pass, to just turn a blind eye like everybody did. But after many sleepless nights, he made the call.

“Agent Murphy”

“Hi, Steve, it’s Javier” he said softly suddenly feeling a little embarrassed of the time that had passed without calling his friend.

“Jav?!” Steve exclaimed “it’s been a long time...H-h-ow are you?”

“Fine, fine, you?”

“Great, I’m in Miami. But why you call me at the office? You alright?” he asked with a concerned tone.

“Yeah, it’s...well, maybe it’s nothing. But I need you to take a look at something”

“What exactly do you want me to check?”

“Some documents, I’ll send them to you”

“Great. Where are you now? Still at your pops?”

“No, well. I’m in Texas but I live with my wife.”

“Wait! what! you said wife?!” he exclaimed

“Yeah, yeah. Long story”

Javier had to hear his old college laugh for a good five minutes before he could say another word.

“I need to meet her. Gosh, I can’t believe it. Connie is gonna die when I tell her”

“Yeah...”

“Listen, I know you didn’t want to talk about you getting out and everything but I’d love to talk if you want. You know that...”

“I’ll send the documents right away, okay? You can call me at this number whenever you have any conclusion” he interrupted.

“Alright, Javi. It’s good to know from you. I’ll check those out”

Immediately after hanging up the phone, Javier felt like shit. He hadn’t contacted Steve, a good friend, in a long time. He knows his big out of the DEA would be a matter of a long conversation with him, a conversation he doesn’t want to have as he doesn’t want to tell all that to Chucho or Isa. Those days were gone, that crap was far away, he repeats to himself knowing that his memories have dark claws that hang on him like his shadow, reopening wounds he thought were healed.

After that brief phonecall, more followed. Steve and Javi found a perfect hour to talk when both Connie and Olivia and Isa and Elvi were asleep. They chatted about the documents, clearly there was something weird and Steve, though he could not confide anything to a former agent, agreed to disclosure tiny details. The DEA was behind StarsTextile Exports from months, but anytime they came close, they would hide again with dubious moves like changing company names, CEO’s and corporate headquarters.

“I see your instinct is still intact, Jav. You should still be with us” lamented Steve in one of their midnight conversations

“Yeah...but what can we do? nothing” Javi huffed

“We’ll see, I keep you informed”

“Yeah, thanks” he agreed but a little voice inside him replied why do you care? why do you still care?

“So, can you tell me about your wife? Connie keeps asking me for more information” Steve asked

“Her name is Isabel. She’s younger than me”

“Nice! Is she pretty?” the agent jested

“She is. We met at a bar; she was bartending for the summer while she was off college. I had just arrived after Cali” he explained

“She must be quite special. I mean, Jav...you left another at the altar” Steve replied shyly

“Well, that was another time and yes, she is...she is...a good woman and a good mother” Javi lay down on the sofa and turned his face towards the aisle, he could see the dim light of Isa’s nightstand lamp still on. She was always waiting for him to come to bed.

“How long did you wait to have the kid?”

“We didn’t. She got pregnant unexpectedly and then we got married” Javi sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh! I don’t want to be indiscreet, but that’s why you married her?” Steve muttered

“Kinda, but as I said she’s an amazing woman”

“Are you happy?” Steve cut him

“What is this? Are you my therapist now?” Javi chuckled

“No! no! just Connie, well, Connie and I, we worried, we wanted to know if things were okay with you. It’s been a long time, Javi, and the things we saw... well, we’ve been through some shit”

“I’m fine” his voice cracked, the more he said those words the less meaning they got

“Fine, God, Javi Peña, a family man, I still can’t believe it”

Javi smiled

“Yeah me too”

“But it’s nice, it keeps you grounded. Now you have a place to come back”

“Right...”

And also thousands of questions, expectations, and nowhere to hide when all I want to do is be alone, he thought but didn’t say another word.

“It’s late and I don’t want to wake up the girls” he said before biding goodbye to Steve and promising to keep in touch.

A week after that conversation, Steve told him about the operation that the DEA was preparing at the frontier near Laredo. And last night, he rejoined the agents just as a consultant. But again shit followed him and they asked him to be present and advice in case they needed him.

Even though he was far up on a hill with a few other agents waiting for the transport to arrive, he heard clearly the gunshots and they left him with a terrible headache and a familiar yet horrible ring in his ears. He felt his heart beating hard and fast inside his chest. The rush, the thrill and the fear all very well-known to the old Javier and he could sense a part of him suddenly awake, begging for more, the tingling sensation on his muscles that he was doing what he was made for. It scared him. He had decided that he was through it all. He could not be back, but there he was, lecturing those agents, finding evidences where they looked clueless. He was made for this, and though he didn’t like the praise, he hadn’t felt as good about himself until that night.

But the DEA asked for more, always does. He had given them his all and they paid him with lies. But again he said yes to keep on going with this partnership and teach the field agents and give some advice on how you take down a cartel. Like if we actually won the war on drugs, like if we actually made things better

With all these, he kept Isa in the dark, giving just vague answers about who call him late at night and about what was going on at his job.

The look in her amber colored eyes breaks his heart with each lie he tells her. She had met a broken man in Laredo many summers ago, he never said anything really specific about his time in Colombia, but Isa was perceptive enough to see his cracks and shadows and everything he wanted to hide. She had lighted his life like a timid candle in the night, opening the darkest rooms of his mind and inundating them with her presence and comfort and domestic life.

There was no space for the old Javi, always running and burying his demons in alcohol, sex and cigarettes, in this new reality there were bills to pay, school supplies, family duties and morning conversations.

And at that moment, “family guy” Javi and the “ex-DEA but again working for the DEA” Javi were battling inside his mind making him feel like he was living a double life.

Half of him wishes to stay, go to the pool with Elvi, Sundays at his father’s house and hold Isa tight every night; but there again, the air grows thicker, the days are long and he misses the rush, the thrill, the only way of life he had known for so long.

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