#and i hope my client at least doesn’t fire her before this next weekend

[twistedappletree]

lmao so i think the other girl working for my client is about to get fired for trauma dumping and making out of pocket passive aggressive comments constantly akdnakjds why can’t anyone just be fucking N O R M A L

**also pls excuse the typos in my tags omfg i’m so annoyed that i can’t type ahahahHAHAHA

[littlestarofthewest]

Title: Boss Ass Bitch | Word Count: 2645 | Rating: Explicit (18+!!!) 

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader (in this chapter)

Tags: modern AU, mechanic AU, work in progress

Chapters: [1] [2]

Your first week in your new job flies by quickly. Molly's got so much to teach you that you can't focus on anything else. Only during your breaks, you have a moment to look through the huge window that lets you watch the boys in the garage. 

Most of the time, they're busy with their work, but sometimes you can hear their laughter through the wall when they're joking with each other. Once in a while, one of them comes into the office to talk something out with Molly, but you're too busy to pay attention.

By the time week two rolls around, you feel confident to be on your own. Molly leaves her number just in case and assures you that you can always ask the boys if you have more questions. You smile and nod while thinking that you'll try to avoid that option.

Come Monday, you get to the shop almost an hour early, but you're still not the first there. The door is open, and the lights are on. When you make your way to the office, Charles comes along the corridor that leads to the boys' changing room. 

Surprise graces his face when he sees you, but then he smiles. "Good morning."

"Morning."

"You're early."

"I thought it might be a good idea to get a headstart," you say, suddenly feeling stupid. You're a grown woman, after all, you shouldn't be so nervous. "You're early yourself."

Charles shrugs. "I get up with the sun most of the time. Just can't sleep any longer."

"I wish that was me," you sigh. "I don't mind sleeping in."

"I hope you'll still have a good day."

"Thank you," you say, warmth spreading in your chest. Unlike most people, Charles sounds genuine, and you can do with the encouragement. You still smile after Charles when he walks over to the car he's working on, but then you put yourself together and disappear into your new office.

The first two hours go by quickly, and you have a good feeling about your work. So far, you know exactly what to do, and you're confident you can make it through the day without messing up. Thanks to the big window, you can see that Arthur and John arrived as well. 

You watch the boys for a bit while all three of them bend into the same car, involved in a serious discussion. Compared to your first day, they are moderately dressed for once. Charles and John both wear blue overalls, and while John's is so dirty that his one appears black, he at least closed the buttons. 

Arthur's wearing blue pants as well, with a simple gray shirt, and you're once again pissed because they can look this good without effort. With a sigh, you go back to an email you've started when the office door opens.

"Hey Molly, we need-" Arthur says while coming in but stops himself when he sees you. "Sorry, I was looking for Molly."

"She's not here today," you say, getting nervous again. "In fact, she's not coming anymore. She put me in charge."

"Oh good," Arthur says, and just like Charles, he seems pleased. "I just need the schedule, and then I'm out of your hair."

The nervous feeling wanders from your chest up into your throat. "Schedule?"

"Yeah, so we know which cars to finish first. Or the 'yeet sheet' as John likes to call it."

You remember Molly mentioning that as well, and a light turns on in your head. "Yes, of course. Molly prepared it on Friday."

You see the sheet in front of your inner eye, but then nothing. Arthur walks up to your desk, rubbing his hands. "Great, can I have it?"

"I, um, don't remember where she put it," you admit. "I can call her."

"No need, you can just print out a new one," Arthur says, rounding your desk. "I've done it a few times when Molly was busy. Let me show you."

Arthur leans over your shoulder, pointing to the folders you need while you sneak side-glances at him. You already found him attractive from afar, but up close, it's way worse. He has lovely blue eyes with sort of a golden ring in the middle, and his beard looks so soft, you have to fight the urge to rub your face against his. 

Arthur's scent doesn't help either. There are strong undertones of the garage, like motor oil and metal, but also something fresh like recently washed sheets. You take a deep breath and try to focus on what Arthur is showing you, but then he leans in even closer to read the folders' names.

"That must be it," he says, pointing to one of them.

A shiver runs down your spine when his breath ghosts over the skin on your neck, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. You wish you could turn around and bury your face in his chest but instead, you print out the file he needs, your eyes hefted to the screen.

"There you go."

"Thank you, my lady," Arthur says. He walks over to the printer and waves a little goodbye with the piece of paper before leaving you alone in your office. 

You use the next few minutes to stare blankly at your screen, trying to stomach what just happened, from Arthur casually calling you 'my lady' to you feeling like a cat in heat just because a guy stood a little too close to you.

Over the last few weeks, you've been so busy with the job change that you didn't even think to take care of yourself. Being confronted with three good looking guys every day clearly doesn't help your situation. You decide to battle your horniness the second you get home today and go back to work.

You manage to get through the rest of the week without any more hiccups, and aside from some annoying or unfriendly clients, this might just be the best job you've ever had. In the mornings, you often run into Charles, getting your first smile of the day. Then you exchange some small talk with Arthur while he's getting his caffeine fix in the break room, and John's usually the one to stay late, closing up with you.

They're all so nice that you consider yourself spoiled. Still, you deserve a treat, so you use the weekend for some intense self-care. At first, you feel a bit guilty when the boys enter your mind as you pleasure yourself, but you can't help it, and it does wonders for your body and soul.

You go back to work on Monday with a big smile on your face, and time flies by. You're not even tired when it's time to go home again. As your last act of the day, you do a little inventory check. It's your job to stock up the break room and buy necessities like toilet paper and cleaning supplies.

When you come back from the kitchen, the garage is dark. Arthur's been the last of the boys, but it seems that he went home by now, so you grab your clipboard and head for the guy's changing room to see if they need anything refilled.

You should have noticed that the lights are still on, but you're busy writing down what to buy the next day. After waltzing into the room, you look up and freeze on the spot.

Arthur is standing in front of the lockers with a towel over his head to dry his hair. The problem is that that's the only thing covering him. You stare at his naked body, your eyes roaming from his feet upward over his manhood to his bare chest, and you can't bring yourself to look away.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you forget to hold on to your clipboard, and it clutters to the ground with an overly loud sound. Arthur comes out from under the towel, staring at you with surprise.

"Sorry, I- I didn't- I mean, I thought-" you stammer, unable to finish a single sentence. "God, I didn't mean to-"

You're still staring at Arthur until he has the sense to put the towel around his hips. Finally, you can move and get on the floor to retrieve your clipboard and a few loose pages. "I'm so sorry, I thought I was alone."

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Arthur says, his voice calm.

While you can feel your face grow hot, Arthur doesn't sound embarrassed at all. You put the pages back into the clipboard and dare to look at him again. In hindsight, you shouldn't have done that. The towel is barely covering Arthur, so you still have an excellent view of his body. You can't help but take it in, and when your eyes meet Arthur's, there's something challenging in them.

"Do you want to come over here?" 

You know you should turn and run, but Arthur's voice lures you in as if he was a well-built siren. Your feet take you the few steps over to him all on their own, and you're enveloped by Arthur's fresh scent. He takes the clipboard and places it on a bench next to you before reaching for your face.

Arthur lifts up your chin, and when you look at him, there's still the fire in his eyes, but he's smiling. "Hey," he says, and you feel calmer somehow.

You manage a shaky "hey" as well, and Arthur's fingers trail along your face before cupping your cheek. 

"Mind if I kiss you?"

You can't remember anybody asking you this before, and your brain has a hard time coming up with an answer. After all, Arthur's right there, still built like a demigod and still deliciously naked.

"I- um, I wouldn't mind," you say, still wondering why he would even want to.

Before you can think of a reason, Arthur already leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He keeps teasing you, but when you're still frozen on the spot, he retreats.

"I'm not trying to pressure-" Arthur starts, but your mind finally catches up.

You throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for another kiss. Since you're way less gentle than him, Arthur matches your eagerness, his tongue rubbing hot against your own. 

Despite your little fun sessions at home, you still feel charged with sexual energy, and you can't help but grind against Arthur with your whole body. He takes to kissing along your neck, and his hands wander to your breasts.

"Have to admit that I've been thinking about this," he says as his fingers rub your nipples through the fabric of your top. "Those blouses and the damn skirts."

You just tried to look professional, so it's quite a nice piece of information that your get up railed Arthur up just as much as his clothes bothered you. 

"Take them off then," you say, growing bolder. This is already happening, so you might as well go the distance.

Arthur growls as he fumbles with the buttons of your shirt, and the second he gets them all open, he pushes down the fabric of your bra to expose your naked skin. Kissing down your body, Arthur sits down on the bench, pushing up your skirt next.

When he caresses your thighs, you eagerly spread your legs, and Arthur pulls down your underwear before his face takes its place. You let out a little squeal when his tongue touches you, but he keeps going, and you hold on to his shoulder to keep yourself upright.

Arousal pools between your legs and you just know you're going to paint Arthur's face with your juices if he keeps going like that. Digging your fingers into Arthur's hair, you can't help but rub yourself against him, eager to get as much friction as possible.

Arthur keeps licking you with slow, hot strokes of his tongue while his hands wander upwards until he can touch your breasts. Your nipples grow hard in the cold air, and he keeps teasing them until you can't take it anymore.

You hold Arthur in place, your thighs shaking as you come, and his moans are just as bad as yours. Usually, you'd be quite satisfied now, but you can only think about wanting more.

After releasing Arthur from your iron grip, you pull the towel away and climb on Arthur's lap. While kissing, you reach for his cock, making him groan against your lips. You've never done anything like this before, but now you can only think about riding Arthur until you forget your own name.

You take position over Arthur and carefully lower yourself onto him until he's fully sheeted inside you.

"Jesus Christ, you're tight," Arthur groans, his fingers digging into your hips.

As slowly as you can, you move up again, making Arthur curse. It feels just as good for you, the constant rub bringing even more heat, and you put your arms around Arthur's neck so you can ride him properly.

He's holding on to your hips, doing his fair share to lift you up, but he gets distracted and nibbles and licks wherever he can reach you. You wish it wouldn't turn you on that much, since you're usually not one for one night stands or sex in weird places.

Although it's late, you can't shake the idea that Charles or John could come back. Even worse, what if Dutch showed up? You roll your hips for more friction and deliberately clench your muscles around Arthur.

"Goddamn, girl," Arthur growls, "don't do that."

Arthur holds you in place when you don't stop, pushing into you with a few sharp thrusts. He moans with his head buried against your neck, his whole body going rigid when he comes.

You hold still to give him a moment, not ready for him suddenly lifting you up so he can put you down on the bench next to him.

Arthur dives between your legs, his beard scratching your thighs as he licks you again. All you can do is hold on to the bench, skitting towards bliss without a break. You arch your back when you hit your breaking point, and Arthur lets you rut against him until you're completely satisfied.

All you can do now is stare up at the ceiling and catch your breath. Arthur cleans himself up with his towel before running a warm hand along your thigh.

"I'll be right back," he says, and soon he offers you some tissues to get yourself cleaned up as well. When you sit up, Arthur watches you intently. "You alright?"

"I was supposed to do some inventory for the order tomorrow."

"That's what you're thinking about?" Arthur huffs.

"I'm sorry, I'm just so used to planning everything," you explain. "This is not how I imagined my evening."

"Me neither. It's bad enough that you're distracting me during work. I didn't think it would happen after."

You wish you could say something to that, but you get so flustered that you focus on putting your clothes in order instead. 

"Don't worry about the order," Arthur says, "I know what we need; I can just tell you."

"That would be great," you say, picking up your clipboard, but before you take any notes, you look Arthur over. "Maybe you should get dressed first."

"Why?"

"It's distracting."

Arthur leans back with a smile, giving you an even better view. "Really?"

You lean in to give him a kiss, right before clutching the clipboard to his chest. "That list better be on my desk tomorrow at 9am."

"Yes, ma'am," Arthur says, but he doesn't move, so you turn tail and run.

If you stay, chances are you're going to eat your dinner off of him.

[xyliane]

AUgust 7: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS 12 YEAR OLD

PROMPT THE SEVENTH: CHILDHOOD FRIENDS wait how can you childhood friends au killugon, I asked myself, forgetting that I had a whole-ass idea in my drafts already. this one’s a proper fic, too (minus editing cuz l o l it’s an AU writing challenge, not editing challenge). T, aged-up killugon, modern day au. ft ambiguous descriptions of social media, alluka, kalluto, and leorio in killua’s corner, and zushi and spinner in gon’s, brief discussion of getting plastered and dealing with a hangover. 5000 words.

0o0o0o0o0

The first sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Killua wakes up with a hangover.

This does not happen. Killua can count on one hand the number of times he’s gotten so drunk he’s had a hangover, and most of them are the fault of his little siblings. Little siblings who are now living together, whose couch he is currently painfully existing upon, half too hot and his toes way too cold. And the couch is too soft, an old secondhand thing he’d helped Alluka grapple up the stairs months ago after they found it outside an old dorm. He makes a notch in his very sore brain to blame the current situation on them. Kalluto might be kind enough to let a drunk big brother crash with them, but Alluka has a devious streak a mile wide.

Yeah. This is definitely their fault.

One eye slowly creaks open, surveying his surroundings through blurry vision. Nothing out of the ordinary here. He’s in the pajamas he’s left with Alluka forever ago, curled up under an old blanket he gave her for Nanika’s birthday. It’s covered in the Matrix code, all green letters on black wool. It barely covers him from chest to knees, which explains the cold toes.

Sunlight flickers through the curtains, cheerful and bright, and Killua pulls the blanket over his face. He’ll take cold toes over being blinded by his headache.

The second sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when a noise like a chainsaw burrowing through a marshmallow erupts from his phone buzzing on the coffee table, just barely out of reach.

Killua attempts to bury himself under the blanket. He’s not dealing with work today.

And then he remembers: He doesn’t have work. Work can’t bother him today. Not just because it’s a weekend—work never respected the sanctity of weekends, no matter that he was at least partially in charge and used to have a fancy degree hanging on his wall. He doesn’t have work anymore. Killua quit.

Which, well. That explains the hangover.

He’s still blaming his siblings.

His phone buzzes loud enough to break the sound barrier, and Killua decides, fuck it. He doesn’t have anything to lose. If it’s the-place-formerly-known-as-work, he can delete everything. If it’s Mom or Father, he can definitely delete everything. And maybe it’s a friendly person, congratulating him on giving up a job that for anyone else would have been an absolute money-making dream. He’ll delete those too.

It takes a few tries to unlock his phone, and it unfortunately involves opening his eyes, squinting against the glaring light of the screen. But once he does, he frowns. Maybe he’s seeing double. Or a hundredfold. Because he should not have this many notifications.

awwww cute, i hope u 2 find each other! the top one says. It has several hundred likes. Why is it in his notifications?

Scrolling down reveals that it’s not an anomaly.

wtf man how can you find a TWELVE YEAR OLD from FIFTEEN YEARS AGO.

Me and my mom went on a cruise around there once, it was really pretty!

this is so sweet T__T maybe this is him?

And then another hundred photos of brown-skinned men with varying degrees of shirt-wearing, all black haired and most of them buff in very appealing ways and all of them beaming at Killua.

“What the fuck,” Killua croaks as he scrolls through all of the images and messages. Maybe this is a dream. A really weird, hangover-induced dream about how little of a social life he has, that his phone is possessed by someone else’s. A warning of sorts, that he should never have installed any social media on his phone ever, not even for hookups.

The reason for all the notifications lies at the top of his own page. Just a few sentences, all-caps, with an image of an old crinkled photo of two boys on a tropical beach, grinning at the camera. Killua sees himself, white curly hair flying in all directions and pale skin sunburned and ruddy with the briny wind, happier than Killua can ever remember being. Next to him, one arm slung around his shoulders and the other holding a bucket full of seashells, is a brown-skinned boy with freckles dancing across his nose and the tops of his shoulders, brown eyes wide and laughing and black hair thick and spiked from some mix of wind and seawater and natural gravity defiance.

He didn’t know he still had this photo. It had followed him from childhood all the way through grad school, a carefully guarded keepsake hidden away from the watchful eyes of his parents and Illumi, before ending up in a box or a bag at some point in the last few years. Part of Killua thought he’d lost it in the move. He barely remembers much about being twelve, about the cruise he’d been forcibly dragged on. But he remembers…

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY? yells the caption. WE WERE BEST FRIENDS FOR A WEEK WHEN I GOT DRAGGED ON A CRUISE BY MY ASSHOLE PARENTS. HE WAS 12 ON WHALE ISLAND 15 YEARS AGO. IF FOUND, DM IMMEDIATELY.

“Gon,” Killua breathes.

He gathers himself, wrapping the blanket around his head in a feeble protection against the morning, and lurches over to Alluka’s room.

He gets to bang on her door three times, confused spite winning out over his own pounding headache, before Kalluto appears out of their room, blinking blearily at Killua. “Shut up.”

Killua kicks Alluka’s door for good measure, and brandishes his phone in front of him like a weapon. “Not until you explain what the hell this is doing on the internet.”

Kalluto pales, then flushes, then pales again. “Oh. Um.”

At that, Alluka creaks her door open, guilty blue eyes far too awake for how close to noon it is. Killua kind of wants to kill her on principle alone. If he has to be hungover, so does everyone else.

“Explain,” he grinds out through his teeth.

The third and final sign that today is going to be an absolutely terrible day, is when Alluka puts on her most winning smile, the kind she uses to ward off angry customers and idiotic faux-academics on the internet. “Congratulations, Brother! I might have made you go viral.”

Killua throws his phone at her.

—————

Today’s going to be a good day, Gon decides. He’s been in the forests of East Gorteau for the better part of a month, which normally isn’t so bad. But this group has been…They’re nice enough, when Gon’s not spending half of his time explaining that, no, that species of plant does not make a good stew, and no, that species is endangered please don’t hunt them, and yes Gon is sure he doesn’t date his clients even after the hike, and no the reason the tent fell over again is because it wasn’t properly set up in the first place—

All of Aunt Mito’s complaints about tourists on Whale Island make so much more sense, now that Gon’s leading backwoods hikes.

But last night had been fun! Spinner had met the group at a pre-set campsite not far from their pickup so Gon hadn’t had to work the whole night, and he could relax with his friend over good food, more alcohol than he probably should have drunk, and not having to explain to Mrs. Yuldvin the difference between marijuana, buckeye, and poison oak again. Spinner had even taken care of the fire, although she had left him to rescue the Podomos siblings from the ruins of their tent with nothing more than a smirk and a wave. Nevertheless, Gon smiled through his headache all morning, because soon he’ll be home, and he can sleep.

Zushi is waiting in the parking lot once Gon’s done packing up the last of the gear and saying goodbye to Spinner, jeep idling while he flicks through his phone, thick eyebrows drawn together in increasing concern. He doesn’t even look up until Gon drops his pack onto the hood of the car, and he jolts so badly in surprise that he tosses his phone in the air.

“Are you okay?” Gon asks, and tries to peek at the screen.

Zushi pulls it up and away, a frantic look in his eyes. It won’t really keep Gon from seeing what’s happening, not if he wants to, but Zushi’s height is enough of a deterrent to make it hard. “You were gone way too long,” he says.

Gon leans against the hot metal of Zushi’s car. It wasn’t an unusual length for a trip, not really—this backcountry needs the length to be able to see and understand the region. Not to mention the Small Billed Swan preservation society keeping the whole place locked down except to authorized guides and trekkers. Zushi knows this. They’ve been roommates long enough that this isn’t even the longest time Gon’s been gone.

“You knew I’d be gone til today,” Gon says.

“Yeah, but…” Zushi’s eyebrows descend even further, scrunching his whole face up in worry. “You haven’t checked your phone, right?”

“No?” Even if he did have cell service, Gon never brings his own phone. He borrows Kite’s satellite phone, because it is more reliable and doesn’t need to be charged constantly.

“Okay. Well.” Zushi takes a deep breath, then another, one of Wing’s old meditation techniques. Despite his exhaustion and single-minded determination to sink into a real bed and sleep for a week, Gon feels a minor pang of worry. On breath three, he unlocks his phone and turns it towards Gon. “You’re a meme.”

On Zushi’s screen is a photo Gon can’t ever forget about. Backed by Whale Island’s sunbleached white beaches and the humid brilliant colors of summer, Gon sees himself—twelve, smiling from ear to ear, hair a mess from swimming and his shirt practically covered in sand from digging up all the seashells in his bucket. He’s got an arm around another boy, who’s caught mid-laugh so his blue eyes burn the same color as the sky, white curls even messier than Gon’s hair. They look like they’ve known each other their whole lives, like they’d still be best friends even if they haven’t seen or spoken to each other since the photo was taken.

Gon hopes Killua thinks so, too.

He cradles the phone in his hand, carefully zooming in on their faces and the errant crinkles visible through the photo. His own faded copy is in a drawer, having survived a whole trip around the world and countless apartment jumps. This one looks just as well cared for, in its own way.

“That…is you, right?” Zushi asks carefully. “Because Wing was asking, and half of Kite’s guide company is yelling about it on your social media page that you don’t even use, and now people are messaging me, and they’re saying the weirdest things, and the post is from last week, so—”

“It’s Killua,” Gon says. A smile spreads across his face, a mirror to the one he’d had when he was twelve. “That’s Killua!”

“Who?” the others ask, but Gon isn’t listening.

He spins, frantically searching his pockets for his phone. “Spinner, can you do me a favor?”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously.

Gon knew today was going to be a good day.

—————

It’s been a week, and Killua has quit all social media forever.

The steady buzz of his phone informing the apartment of his notifications is not his problem. Alluka’s the one who decided to hack into his phone and post something to his old public account, the one he mostly uses for photos of cats and complaining about terrible business precedents. He hasn’t posted much since school, and if anything, it should have simply vanished into the void of the internet.

He finds the culprit fairly quickly, and for once it’s not his sister’s moderate but dedicated video following.

“Old man, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Leorio lounges in Alluka and Kalluto’s living room, freshly out of his scrubs and looking pleased as all hell. “I just reblogged a fun post from my friend,” he says somewhat defensively. “You were a cute kid, Killua. What happened?”

Killua feels a growl creep up his throat. “You can’t just do that,” he snaps.

“It’s not my fault the people like my well-coiffed but rugged appearance and dedication to social justice in medicine.”

“You have 500,000 followers because you made a joke post two years ago, and some authorized user reblogged it five times. It has nothing to do with your ugly mug.” If Killua squints and plugs his ears, he can even see why people think Leorio’s attractive or whatever: tan skin, lean but strong as hell, actually takes care of his hair, not to mention a damn good doctor with one of the most prestigious institutions in Yorknew who spends most of his free time running health clinics in impoverished neighborhoods. That’s all swell. But then he starts talking, and Killua has no idea where the off button is.

Leorio spreads a hand out, gesturing vaguely with the glass of iced tea that he’d helped himself to out of Alluka’s stash. “It has everything to do with my ‘ugly mug,’” he says. “Which is why I used my powers for good and spread your post. Don’t you want to find him?”

“Not like this!”

“You were not going to find him at all,” Kalluto’s quiet voice pipes up from the kitchen. They have night classes tonight, but Killua has a feeling that even if they were supposed to be attending their Yorknew Uni lectures, they would still be here making Killua’s life worse. “You’ve had that picture for years, and you did not even try to look.”

Leorio gives him a judgmental look over the tops of his stupid tiny glasses. “You haven’t?”

It would be a losing game to bury his burning face in one of the throw pillows, so Killua does his best to cross his arms over his chest and glower instead. “I…tried.”

“And?”

“I don’t even know his last name!” Killua splutters. “I didn’t have his number or where he was from, other than his mom worked on the ship. And that cruiseline went bankrupt and liquidated everything before I could get out of the house, so I couldn’t even look that up.”

Kalluto crosses over from the kitchen and perches like a sweatshirt-wearing crow on the coffee table, their blue eyes carefully neutral under straight black bangs. “Alluka and Nanika would have helped. Or even Milluki, if you had explained the situation.”

“I was eighteen, okay? I just left home, and our parents were still being…shit, themselves, I guess.” He hadn’t even considered asking for help. Then again, he’d tried the moment he could, that first summer of undergrad where he didn’t have to come home and Illumi couldn’t spend half his time breathing down the back of Killua’s neck. He had a general idea of where they’d gone, maps of islands scurried away in the closet with the old photo and a bag full of seashells Gon had given him as a going-away present.

They’d been friends for a week, in the whirlwind way that only kids can be. The cruise ship was massive, and Killua’s parents were in meetings half the time and playing nice with the other rich people on board the other half. Killua had been bored witless, and Gon was everything he couldn’t have possibly imagined: encouraging Killua to go exploring, to stealing food from the kitchens, making him help clean up the decks, playing cards with the deckhands. Sneaking off the boat to visit an island without Killua’s parents while the ship was docked, scrambling over the burning hot sands and dashing through the jungle, diving into the waves fully clothed and competing to see who could find the biggest prettiest shells. Gon’d been Killua’s first friend, his first crush, his first…a lot of firsts.

Then the cruise had ended, and Killua forgot to give Gon his phone number. His address. Anything. They’d been so swept up in being friends, being best friends, it had seemed impossible that they would never see each other again.

Does Gon even remember? Why should he, when Killua hasn’t contacted him? Would they even be friends anymore?

Maybe he hadn’t searched hard enough. But part of Killua thinks he shouldn’t have tried at all.

The phone buzzes loudly, and Killua tries not to flinch.

“Hey, Killua. It’s okay.” Leorio leans forward, hands clasped over his too-long limbs and expression gentle. “If you want me to delete it, I will. Not sure I can help with the viral part of things, except maybe go through your messages and delete the gross ones, or at least find the weirdest ones for you to laugh at later.”

“Alluka and I have been doing this already,” Kalluto says, their posture a little too protective for Killua’s raw nerves at this point. “But perhaps you have some suggestions for what to do next, Dr. Paladiknight?”

Leorio smiles sympathetically. “Don’t read the comments? That said, most of your comments have been much more positive than anything I usually post. The masses seem to be genuinely rooting for you, kid.”

“I have only had to delete a dozen lewd messages for you this morning,” Kalluto adds, not mentioning the hundred or so that Alluka took care of yesterday.

Killua’s traitorous phone buzzes again, and that’s it. Time to bury himself in a pillow. Killua flops onto the couch, narrowly missing Leorio, and does his best to burrow into the cushions. “That’s just great,” he says into the fabric.

A comforting hand rubs against his hair, messing up the curls for a moment, and Killua refuses to admit that it’s nice, that he has friends like Leorio who even bother to care. “It could be worse. You could be dealing with this while still working a soul-sucking job making more money than most of us will see in our lifetimes, in exchange for giving up all of your morals.”

Killua groans loudly. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“You’re gonna need to do something, Killua! And hey, I might be able to set something up with my—”

“I already told you, no.”

“But it’s what you’re good at. And you wouldn’t be fucking people over to do it.”

“No.”

“Just listen for one—”

Killua lifts his head enough to glare as murderously as he can at Leorio. It must work at least a little, because the doctor shuts up.

Meanwhile, Kalluto is scrolling through Killua’s phone, poking at the screen occasionally. In the awkward silence, their sharp gasp is loud enough to shatter a window, and they hurriedly shove the phone in the pocket of their oversized sweatshirt.

Leorio raises an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

Kalluto squeezes their eyes shut for a moment, then carefully places the phone on the coffee table, screen pointed innocently at the ceiling. “You will want to look at this one, Brother.”

“This isn’t another erotic sandcastle is it?” he says.

Kalluto shakes their head, and Killua’s stomach lurches up his throat. Alluka has been the one excited about this whole thing. But Kalluto, as reserved as they are, is a massive romantic. The whole thing might be Alluka’s fault, but Killua knows it’s Kalluto who almost lets themselves believe it’ll work. Despite all of the false positives, the people who send messages that don’t sound right or photos that have the wrong smile.

Killua doesn’t want to hope. It can’t possibly be Gon. But his hands shake nonetheless as he unlocks his phone and finds a new message in his DMs.

It’s not from Gon.

Instead, someone with the icon of a small-billed white swan in a soft small-billed hat and a handle of @flymypretties has sent a photo of a brown-skinned man with spiky black hair absolutely covered in dirt and grime. He’s waving at the camera, a backpacking bag propped against his shoulder and the widest smile Killua has ever seen beaming straight through the screen and into his chest. Next to him and half out of frame, a tall tanned man with massive black eyebrows and a tank top showing off an impressive amount of muscle has his head in his hands. Killua feels a sharp stab of sympathy, somewhere buried beneath the racing of his heart.

look im sorry about this but this idiot can’t find his phone and we r kind of in the middle of nowhere so reception’s shit. he wants to know if you admit he found the biggest seashell on the beach, whatever that means.

For a long, long moment—seconds? minutes maybe?—Killua can do nothing but stare at the screen of his phone. Leorio and Kalluto both look at him with a mix of curiosity and worry, Kalluto starting to slowly reach for the phone.

In a completely childish protective moment, Killua grabs it against his chest, like the image will vanish if he doesn’t keep it close.

“Is it…?” Leorio asks.

Killua swallows heavily, trying to think around the roaring of the ocean in his ears. “I think so,” he says faintly.

Kalluto’s eyes widen, and they spin on their heels towards their room. “I’m calling Alluka!”

—————

“Has he responded?”

“No!”

“…what about now?”

Spinner throws her hands in the air so violently that her hat falls off. “For god’s sake, Gon, it’s been an hour, you don’t even have your phone, and you still need to go home.”

Gon huffs and pouts. They’re still in the parking lot over an hour after the rest of the trekking group has left, and all the exhaustion that had settled into Gon’s body from the tour has been turned into a jittery energy that keeps trying to leak out from under his skin. He wants to go home immediately and dig out his copy of the photo, rub out the old fingerprints he and Aunt Mito have left on it over the years. He wants to find his phone and message Killua directly. He wants to wait right here until Killua responds, no matter how long it takes.

He knows it’s childish, to be this selfish. Spinner has work to do, work that she already put on hold to help with the last day of the tour. Kite probably will want to know what’s happening, or at least why his lead guide and his chief guide organizer have been stuck in a parking lot. And Gon can practically feel Zushi’s obsessive scrolling through social media, frantically trying to navigate Gon’s feeds without actually having access.

Gon needs to find his phone.

“Spinner, what if—”

It’s not that Spinner’s a large woman. Out of the three people standing in the parking lot, Zushi’s far and away the strongest, even if he is about as threatening as a large, muscular teddy bear. And Gon has only packed on weight and muscle over his years of backpacking around the wilderness, no matter that he’s not super tall. But Spinner goes for longer, harder treks on her own than anyone but Kite, and she packs in her own climbing gear on top of that, so when she tosses Gon into the back of Zushi’s jeep, he flies.

“Zushi,” she says in a low exhausted snarl, and he jumps right off the hood of his car. Gon probably would have felt bad for him, if everything wasn’t spinning. “If you do not take your roommate home, I am not responsible for the consequences.”

“What if you hear back?” Gon groans around the aches in his side.

Spinner rolls her eyes, and Gon knows she’s just tired. “I’ll let you know.”

“But what if my phone’s gone? What will I do if someone stole it, or if I can’t—”

“I’ll call you go home already,” she says, and slams the door shut on his face.

For a long moment, the only sound is Spinner storming away, boots thudding heavily in the dirt until her car door slams.

The jeep shifts slightly as Zushi quietly lowers himself into the driver’s seat and puts the key into the ignition. Gon wants to tell him to follow Spinner, so she can yell out the window as soon as Killua gets back to her. But Zushi looks about ready to bolt. So Gon slumps back in the seat, the rumble of tires crunching through gravel making his already jittery nerves shake.

A small voice that sounds a lot like Kite tells Gon that it’s better to wait, that it will be easier to have a conversation and determine if this really is Killua after a rest and a shower.

Gon doesn’t want that, though. He wants…

It’s been a long time since he was on Whale Island. Longer still since he saw Killua. That doesn’t mean he stopped thinking about either of them, during the quiet moments out under the stars. They’re part of him, like his lungs are part of him—essential and irreplaceable, buried so far inside that removing them would change him irrevocably.

What is Killua like now? Is Gon just as important to him as he is to Gon? He has to be. Right?

They make it home without saying anything else. Gon floats in and out between bone-deep weariness and electric sparks of nervous joy, and Zushi flinches every time Gon jolts himself from one to the other.

“Hey, are you…I mean, maybe not okay, but.”

Gon lifts his chin up sharply at the sound of his roommate’s voice, and notices the familiar apartment complex in front of him. Oh, they’re home. “I’m good,” he says, and grins.

“Sure,” Zushi says like he doesn’t believe Gon.

A dubious silence stretches out between them as they gather the rest of the gear, dropping it in a heap on the sidewalk. “You were kids, though,” Zushi finally says.

Gon shrugs and slams the door shut hard enough to make the vehicle rattle. “I didn’t forget. So I don’t think Killua would, either.”

Zushi’s eyebrows wrinkle on each other, like they can’t decide whether to go up or down and settle on some combination of the two. “What if he did?”

“He didn’t,” Gon says, more sure of that than anything else in his life.

Zushi’s eyebrows dance again, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Between Gon’s camping gear and Zushi’s leftover practice pads, it takes longer than Gon’s excitement can take to get everything settled enough to look for his phone. Well, Gon would have liked to look for his phone, but Zushi makes a pointed look at the shower. There are only so many places the phone could be in the whole apartment, after all.

Gon’s just drying off when Zushi knocks on the door. “I found it, but it’s dead,” he says, voice muffled.

“Then charge it!” Gon shouts. After a moment, he adds, quieter and less snappishly, “Please?”

A faint laugh echoes through the apartment.

By the time Gon can make himself a very early dinner of whatever he could grab out of the cabinets without thinking, the phone is charged enough to turn on. Sure enough, there are a wide variety of messages, mostly from Kite’s groupchat asking about the viral post. A few are from former hikers, people who Gon liked enough to share contact info, offering to see if they can get in touch. There are even a few—okay, how did they get ahold of his old social media page? It’s practically defunct, since Gon’s never had a phone capable of more than the most basic apps. And those are…

It’s flattering in a way, but Gon’s not really into that. Or them.

Zushi catches sight of the grimace, and takes one look over Gon’s shoulder before turning beet red.

By the time he’s gone through and deleted the vast majority of what had been filling up his phone, there’s still no message from Spinner, and nothing at all from Killua. Gon sighs and lies his head down on the table with a heavy thunk.

The other chair scrapes heavily along the tiles as Zushi sits, a mug of coffee in his hands. “What will you do? When he messages you, I mean.”

When, not if, an unexpected certainty coming from Zushi. Gon has the best friends in the world. “Talk to him,” Gon says. “It’s only been fifteen years, right? We promised we’d be friends forever.”

“A lot changes in fifteen years,” Zushi says.

“Not that.”

“Then why didn’t you look for him?”

Gon frowns. It had taken a long, long time, but Aunt Mito managed to track down the cruise captain the last time they were in port, tracing through old charters until the right names came up. But when she’d called them up, she’d been met with stonewall after stonewall, pleasant-sounding voices insisting in no uncertain terms that she would never speak with a member of Killua’s family, let alone let her son speak to his friend. By the time Gon was old enough to look himself, he found nothing but a mansion full of people whose eyes matched Killua’s in everything except for his warmth, who refused to even acknowledge Gon’s presence except to throw him out.

That had been years ago. It’s not that Gon stopped looking. Not exactly.

“I did, but I—” Gon starts to say, but his phone buzzes violently against the table, and they both jump out of their chairs.

“Is it—?” Zushi asks, breath in his throat.

It’s a message from Spinner. you owe me big time, kid, she says, followed by a phone number.

Gon rips his phone off the cable, a wide smile spreading across his face. “It is,” he says, and dials Killua.

—————

bzz bzz—

bzz bzz—

bzz b—

“H-hello?”

“Killua! Hi!”

“…Gon? Is that—It’s really…?”

“Killua, it’s you, I thought I’d never—”

“I did find the biggest seashell, and you know it.”

A breath, sharp and astonished. “The blue and white one, with green lines.”

“I found it, and I gave it to you.”

“I still have it.”

A snort of amusement, slightly damp. “I know. You promised you’d keep it.”

“I did. And I promised—”

“That we’d be friends forever.”

A laugh, delighted and teary at the same time. “I knew you remembered.”

“I did promise you that I would.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

(AUgust prompts)

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

A Preview...

Someone requested a fix for their birthday...I don’t have the next chapter for I Just Think I’ll Scream quite ready for prime time, but here’s a sneak peak: 

Ch 20 Sansa

Robb and Ned were up and away before Sansa emerged from her shower in the morning. The house is chaos as Catelyn tries to wrangle the remaining Starks out the door. "Sansa, stop feeding Shaggydog scraps from the table and get dressed! Bran, there are two boxes of gourds by the back door that need to be brought to the store for the window display. Be a dear and put them in the car. And where are Arya and Rickon?" 

 Sansa skips up the stairs before she's pulled into the hunt, almost knocking into her younger sister as she slides down the bannister. "One of these days that's going to break."

 "Whatever, killjoy."

 "Mom is looking for you, but you better change. We are supposed to wear floral for the Women's Club Bake Sale. It's themed and Cersei Lannister is going to be there, so we have to be on our best behavior." Her little sister is wearing their dad's old Falcon's sweatshirt and ripped up jeans, looking for all the world like she's about to spend the day painting a house or cleaning out a garage, and not hobnobbing with their mother's friends and clients. 

 "I'm not working the bake sale. I'm selling tickets to the haunted fun house with Mycah." 

 "Says who?" 

Before Arya can respond, Catelyn is at the bottom of the stairs. "Me. You know that it'll be better for everyone if Arya isn't cooped up all day in a tent with the Women's Club ladies. Help me get through the midday rush, Sansa, and you can slip away and spend the afternoon with Harry if you'd like." 

 "Gods, Mom! They broke up weeks ago! Catch up!" Arya yells as the back door slams behind her and Sansa is alone, staring down the steps at her mother whose face has fallen into a look of concern. 

 "Oh, Sansa, dear. Why didn't you tell me?" 

 She sighs, "It's fine, Mom. Like Arya said, it happened weeks ago, and it was just a high school fling. They aren't meant to last." She turns back up the stairs, not waiting to see if her brush off was convincing. She dresses in the dark maxi dress waiting on her hook, with its long flowy sleeves and pattern of intricate woodland flowers. Usually, she feels like Florence Welch in it. Today though, as she inspects herself before the mirror, it's coming off less stylishly bohemian and more dowdy Victorian with the small ruffles along the high collar and shoulders. Ygritte would never wear something like this, a small ugly voice whispers. 

 Just as she's about to dive back into her closet, Bran yells up the stairs, "We're going to leave without you, Sansa," and it makes her choice for her. It's fine. She'll just hide in a corner of the tent with Old Nan and sneak lemon cakes all day. No one has to see her. So what if the band is playing this afternoon? It's not like any of them care if she watches their show, and she's basically heard the whole set already in rehearsals. It's not like Robb told everybody at school about it. It's not like she promised to get there early and save a spot up front with Marge and Jeyne. 

Ygritte will probably be there to watch Jon. Best to skip...at least until she gets over her absurd crush. 

 "Sansa! Mom is literally starting the engine!" Bran yells again. 

 "Coming!" The best she can do is throw on sunglasses and a wide-brimmed fedora and hope no one recognizes her. Outside, Arya is still arguing with Rickon about buckling his car seat and Cat is on her phone, pacing up the driveway while Bran sits on the back step, whistling the march from Bridge Over the River Kwai. "Liar," Sansa flicks off his baseball cap. "We're nowhere near about to leave."

 "She was starting the engine before her phone rang."

 When they finally find a parking spot, it's apparent to everyone that they would have been better off leaving the car at home and walking. Though the festival hasn't officially started yet, the main street is closed off, and the big parking lot has been covered in carnival rides overnight. Arya peels off from their group when Mycah gives her a holler from on top of the Ferris wheel, leaving Bran and Sansa to lug the several boxes filled with decorative gourds to the hardware store, while their mom takes Rickon and their contributions to the bake sale in the opposite direction.  

 Outside the store entrance, Benjen is struggling with his pop-up tent, which keeps leaning to one side in the wind, while Meera watches him from the front step. "This is your fault, Sansa! Making me set up a stand, like I'm some lady selling doilies at a craft fair," He curses when the whole thing folds up on top of him.

 "Good morning to you too, Uncle Ben," she rolls her eyes. "Where is Robb? He can get you bags of sand to anchor the tent. And don't knock doilies. There are entire rooms at the Met devoted to Myrish Lace alone. You can poke fun at craft fairs once even one of your pieces is on display at a similarly storied institution. Until then, you better get comfortable setting up this tent because I have three holiday craft markets lined up for you this season."

 "You're just supposed to be sprucing up my website, not taking over the business! And don't get me started on your brother. I haven't had my morning caffeine fix yet because he disappeared on a coffee run ages ago. How long does it take to pour a bloody cup of coffee? If Jon Snow is holding up my joe with some pumpkin spice, whipped cream nonsense-"

On cue, Mr. paparazzo himself, appears in the doorway and before Sansa can land on an emotion, he's lifting the box from her arms with a gruff "G'morning Sansa," and then he's back in the shop, leaving her empty-handed and a bit empty-headed. 

 "He looks like he needs caffeine more than you," she remarks at last, meeting eyes with her uncle.

 Meera sniggers. "You think? He looks like he spent the night sleeping under a car." Sansa wouldn't go that far, but it was hard to miss the circles under his eyes or how pale and papery his skin looked in the cold morning light. 

 "Give the kid a break. They played their first show last night, didn't they? If he's a bit wrung out this morning, that just means he's doing it right." Benjen jumps to Jon's defense. 

 "Well then, he's been doing it right every weekend. He's looked like this every morning since he started at the store," Meera says, heading back inside to supervise since Robb is still M.I.A. Sansa thinks about Ygritte's Instagram feed with its late night cigarettes and coffee at the diner and regular parties in what looks like someone's grungy basement. So, Jon works hard and plays hard. It's not entirely shocking. It niggles at her though; how tired he looks and how he doesn't talk about partying when he's at Winterfell. Her other friends are always eager to share their weekend escapades, but when Sansa asked how his party went when his Mom was out of town, Jon just gave her a noncommittal shrug and told her it was fine. 

 That's because you aren't really friends. She turns, more than ready to join her mom at the bake sale, when Robb comes skipping across the street with a drink carrier in hand. "Sansa! Just the girl I'm looking for." Her brother is as chipper as ever, seemingly inured to whatever effects from last night's show have taken the wind from Jon Snow's sails. "Can you help with the window display? Mom told me to spiff it up for the festival, but you've got a better eye for that kind of thing."

 "Oh, sure. Skip out of work for an hour to flirt with some barista and then come back at the last minute to coerce your sister into doing your job?" Benjen barks and Robb's face turns scarlet. 

 "I… uh, what? No… I wasn't flirting…" 

 "Aren't you doing the same thing to me, Uncle Ben?" Sansa retorts, saving her brother from his bumbling. She makes a note to stop by the coffee shop and find out who this barista is. Uncle Benjen may be onto something. "Come on Robb, give Uncle Benji his coffee and I'll spare a few minutes for a consultation." 

 Inside, Bran and Meera are balancing tiny pumpkins on their heads as they wind through the aisles, trying to trip each other up. Jon Snow is leaning against the paint counter, looking ragged. She fights the urge to ask him if he's okay, opting instead to tip over Bran's pumpkin and herd him over to the window display. "Here, help me before Mom walks by and turns Robb into the headless horseman." They distribute the gourds in artfully artless piles throughout the window, as Jon and Robb hang a paint chip mobile over their heads; the autumnal pièce de résistance that Sansa spent hours making last year.

"Sans, I wish you could have been there last night. It was amazing," Robb excitedly recounts the band's show, "Jon was on fire, and apparently some promoters from White Harbor were there and Satin thinks he can book us some shows at North State! Isn't that great?"

 "Yeah, though, won't that be hard with swimming?" She doesn't want to rain on Robb's parade, but maybe Arya is right. She is a killjoy.

 "I have a meet in White Harbor next month. Maybe we can book a few gigs around it. What do you think, Jon? You up for a weekend road trip?"

 "Uh.." Jon scratches at his neck, blearily. "I mean, that's a long drive to do late at night."

 "Don't worry, we'll get a hotel for the weekend!"

 "I don't know-"

 The bell jingles at the door, and before Meera can scramble off the counter where she's been reading a comic, Catelyn is inside, gazing around the space, looking deeply unimpressed. 

 "Mom, uh, we were just finishing up with the decorations." Robb wobbles on the ladder in terror, unable to hook the last end of the mobile in place, and Bran ducks behind a pile of pumpkins, trying to hide his glee.

 "Robb, you should have opened the store fifteen minutes ago. How are you just now finishing the decorations?"

“Well, the gourds only just arrived-” Robb starts, lamely. 

“Never mind,” their mom sweeps through the space, picking up the boxes still out from stocking, tidying the candy by the register, before turning one last critical eye on her teenage employees. Jon cups his neck as he holds the ladder with his other hand. Robb scrambles down, having finally managed to hang the mobile correctly, rushing forward to grab the empty boxes from his mother. “Cersei Lannister is going to be here any minute. Get this garbage to the back. Meera, flip the sign and Jon, take the ladder back and...splash some water on your face or something. You look like death, warmed over. Jory is coming around ten, if you need to take the afternoon off.” 

Jon’s ears turn pink as he folds up the ladder beside Sansa, and she looks out the window, mortified. “Sorry Mrs. Stark, but that’s not necessary” he begins, but Catelyn is already walking back to the office with a tired wave. 

“I said it was a lot of hours you were taking on between school, the lumberyard and this. Just make sure you are fitting sleep in or you’ll make yourself sick, dear.” 

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 83

warnings: nsfw, sorry. HMH masterlist

Tess has had two false labors this past week, and she’s starting to really get aggravated. The good thing is that their basement is finally fixed and they moved back home just in time. The bad thing is you’ve been on pins and needles every day since Tess moved back home since she’s not under your watchful eye anymore. She reassured you that she’d be fine, and the moment her water breaks, she’ll call you and let you know.

Your mom flew out late last night, and Jimmy picked her up from the airport and brought her back to their house. Since Tess will be having Finn soon, your mom will be staying with them to help out. She’s planning on staying for at least two weeks, which is nice for Tess because she’s going to need a lot of rest so she can heal.

Jimmy has already taken off a few weeks from work, and he’s more than excited to finally hold his baby in his arms. It’s so cute to see how excited he is to be a dad, and it warms your heart to know that Tess married a really good guy.

Since the shop will be open next week, John has called in all of the employees for a quick little meeting to get them familiar with the new look of the store and to give them their new schedules. They’re all sitting around the counter when you walk in, and you see Grace perk up a little.

Grace reaches out and hugs you, then she moves to look at Tess’ belly when she walks in. The two start to talk, so you walk over to John and lean up to kiss him.

“How’s it going? Mom asking too many questions?”

You laugh and hug him again, “No, but she has been asking a few questions about the wedding. I haven’t told her anything yet.”

John looks up as your mom looks around the shop, then he looks down at you again, “You better tell her.”

You shrug playfully, “Yeah, I will eventually.”

John places a kiss on the top of your head, then he takes a deep breath, “Gotta make a speech or something.”

“You’ll do great.” you pat his shoulder, then you walk over and stand by your mom.

John clears his throat to get everyone’s attention, and they all walk over to listen to him. He’s their boss now, and it’s funny how they’re looking at him: so wide eyed and curious. You never even thought about it, but they really don’t know John. They only know him from being your boyfriend, and now your fiance.

John is shuffling in place a little since he’s growing a bit nervous, and you smile at him encouragingly when he looks over at you for reassurance.

“So, I’m John.” he says, laughing a little, “I worked with Bernard a lot, I would bind books for him to sell to certain clients, and he’d even put some out on the shelves.”

Tess raises her hand, and John looks at her, “Yes, hi, uh, do we have to work this week? I uh, might be a little busy.”

“No, the shop doesn’t open until next week, but I wanted you all to be the first to see it, and I wanted to introduce myself. So, again, I’m John.” he says, then he looks over at you and smiles, “Uh, you might also know that I am engaged to Y/N, which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. We own this shop now, if you need to talk to one of us, we’re willing to listen. You can come to either of us with any concerns that you have. She’s just as much an owner as I am. Come here, baby.”

You walk over to John as he reaches out for your hand, then he wraps his right arm around your waist. You let out a small laugh and look up at everyone as your cheeks turn red.

“Hi, everyone. I don’t want you to think any differently of me now that I own the shop. I’m still me, and we can still gossip about the mean old shop owner.” you say, gesturing to John.

Tess laughs, then jokingly wipes her brow, “Thank god!”

You look up at John and smile, “As for now, there are only 6 of us that work here, which is fine since the shop is quite small and it’s not that busy, but in these next few weeks, we’re going to be hiring more people. Tess is obviously pregnant, and she’s going to be taking some time off so she can spend it with her husband and her baby. And as for John and I, we’re going to be getting married this fall and we’re going to be starting a family. So, my point is, there might be a lot of work, but hopefully we can hire a few more people to take some of the work off your shoulders.”

“We work in a book shop, I think it’s a pretty chill atmosphere.” Tess laughs.

You give Tess a disapproving look that makes her laugh, then you shake your head a little, “I know, but I just don’t want anyone to unhappy here. If you’re unhappy with your job, we would really like to hear from you.”

“I think you’ll all be happy to know that you’ll all be getting a raise as well.” John says, and they all begin to smile. “It’s not much, but it’s something for now.”

You watch as they look around at each other, then Grace looks at you and smiles. Grace claps her hands, then squeals a little, “You’re getting married!”

“I am.” you laugh, holding up your hand as Grace runs over to look at your ring.

John pats your hip as he walks over to talk to a few of the employees to give them their schedules, then he heads up the stairs to show them the new upper level that will be open. You don’t really know the newer employees, but they all seem nice so far.

Tony is one of the newer employees, and you can tell that he already thinks John is the coolest guy he’s ever met. He’s much quieter than everyone else, and he almost never speaks up when he has an issue -- something you’re definitely going to work on with him.

Natalie has worked here for a few months before John bought the shop and she’s not your favorite person, but she does what’s she told to do. She constantly stares at John, which is a little annoying, but you can’t blame her. She also has a bit of an attitude, and you hope she’ll keep it in check since she knows that you can easily fire her now.

Grace has worked here almost as long as you. She’s younger than you, but she’s great to work with since she’s always full of dramatic stories, but unfortunately sometimes it spills into her work and she’ll get too distracted and forget that she’s working. Her boyfriend has also been kicked out of the shop a few times already by you and Tess.

Then there’s Tess. One of the better employees, but of course you’re biased. She’s a great employee, and she’s so good with customers since she’s always so friendly. She’s going to be on maternity leave for the first few weeks that the shop is open, but you know Tess, and you know she’ll end up coming in, even if it’s just to sit with you.

You’ll definitely need to hire a few more people since you and John won’t be working as much, but until then, John has offered to work your shifts since he knows that you want to help Tess.

Your mom taps on your shoulder, and you turn around to look at her, “Your shop is lovely. I love this little nook back here.”

“Yeah, it’s not completely done yet, but we can’t keep the shop closed for much longer.” you smile and look up to see John leaning over the railing to wave at you, “Hi, baby.”

“It looks nice up here. Come up here.” he says, then he looks at Tess, “Not you, you can’t come up here.”

“Well now, that’s just rude.” she says, crossing her arms.

“You’re 40 weeks pregnant.” you gesture to the stairs, “You think you could make it?”

Tess laughs, “Oh, absolutely not.”

You let out a small laugh, then you quickly run up the stairs to John’s side. You’ve never even been up here before, and it’s a lot nicer and bigger than you thought. There’s a few tables for people to sit and read at, and there’s a nice chair in the corner for people to also sit in. The shelves are so nice and new, and they’re packed with books.

“This looks really nice.” you turn around and look down at your mom and Tess talking. “Whoa, this is a lot higher than I thought.”

John laughs and leans against the railing with you, “So, you think it looks good?”

“I think it looks great.” you nod, looking at John, “You did a great job, Jonathan. I’m proud of you, and I can’t wait for what our little kid’s corner downstairs will look like when you’re finished with that.”

“Yeah, about that, did you know that Amanda paints?” he says, and you shrug, “Yeah, she paints. I asked if she’d paint the walls down there. She said yeah, so she’s going to come in this weekend and get a look at it so she can get some ideas. I told her some princesses and stuff would be good, and some dragons or something.”

“No, I did not know that she paints, but that’s a great idea. I hope she brings Harper with her. I miss that little chunk.”

“I saw her the other day when I was at Aurelio’s shop. She’s getting so big.” he says, then you start your way back down the stairs when you see everyone getting ready to leave.

John hands everyone their schedules, then he makes sure to point out that his number is at the bottom and that they can call at anytime if they have any concerns. Natalie smirks a little more, and you and Tess both look at each other and roll your eyes.

Since John is closing up the shop and locking it up, you walk with your mom and Tess to her car and lean against the door as you talk to them.

“What are your plans for tonight?”

Tess shrugs, “Probably just making sure I have the last of my things ready. They induce me if I don’t go into labor by the end of the week, so…yikes. What about you?”

“Wedding planning.” you say, and your mom perks up, “We decided to get married this fall. September 5th. Mark your calendar.”

“Well,” your mom crosses her arms, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“We just decided it last month, and I knew I’d see you soon so I decided to wait and tell you in person.” you jokingly roll your eyes, “You’re so ungrateful.”

Your mom playfully pats your shoulder and pulls on her seat belt, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You lean back in the car and point at Tess’ belly, “The moment it breaks, you call me.”

Tess laughs, “Yeah, yeah.”

__

You’ve been showing John all the ideas that you have come across in the wedding magazines you’ve been buying. There’s three stacked up on the table, one in the kitchen, and one next to your bed. They’re everywhere. You’ve caught John looking at them a few times, and he’s even folded over a page or two for you to look at later.

You stretch out on the couch, laying across John’s lap as you yawn, “We should head upstairs, it’s nearly 3 AM.”

“I’m not tired, but I’ll watch some TV while you sleep.” he says, then he tucks one arm under your legs and the other around your back to carry you upstairs. “I shouldn’t have had a cup of coffee when I got home this afternoon.”

John lays you down on the bed, then he lays down on top of you as he kisses you. You part your lips as he slides his tongue into your mouth, and you scoot back on the bed so you can wrap your legs around his waist.

You watch your finger as you trail it along John’s jawline, then you look up to meet his gaze. He’s watching your every move, and you smile a little more when he licks his lips.

John’s hands are everywhere on your body, but he keeps his lips connected to yours as you pull up your shirt a little. You grab John’s waist to pull him closer to you, and you bite your lip a little when you feel John hard in his pants. He rubs himself against you teasingly, then he smiles when he looks at you.

“Want it?”

You nod your head, “Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, then he leans down to kiss you before he pulls your pajama shorts off. “Let me see her, let me see her!”

You laugh loudly and shake your head, “You’re so funny.”

He closes his eyes and bites his bottom lip when he sees you’re not wearing underwear, and he leans down to kiss your thighs. He slowly slides his fingers into your pussy, then he pulls them out, “Mmm, look how wet I make you.”

You look up at John as he slowly rubs your clit, then he stands up to pull off his pants. He kicks them to the side as he pulls his shirt over his head, and you sit up to pull your shirt off.

Reaching out for John, you whimper a little, wanting him more and more, but damn, he’s teasing you. He strokes his cock in his hand, and you crawl to the end of the bed and immediately take him into your mouth. You’re nearly choking yourself on his cock, but he tastes and feels so good that you don’t even care.

“Fuck, yes.” John whispers, looking down at you, “Look at you devouring me.”

You sit back on the bed and spread your legs, “Fuck me.”

John smiles as he crawls on the bed, and you hold his gaze as he slowly slides between your legs. He pushes himself in further as you moan, and your eyes roll shut and teeth chatter from the pleasure.

Just as John begins to move his hips at a lazy pace, your phone rings and he stops. You wave it off and pull John down, moaning loudly as he slides deeper between your legs. He slowly bucks his hips, then he immediately begins to pick up speed. You’re breathing heavily and moaning loudly as John continues his thrusts, and your phone begins to ring again.

“Fuck.” you look at John and smile, “Don’t you dare stop fucking me.”

John smiles, “Yes, ma’am.”

You lean over to grab your phone and see Tess is calling, “Hello?”

“Uh, what are you doing?”

You bite your lip as you try to hold in a moan when John rotates his hips, and you press your hand to your mouth when John begins to rub circles on your clit and kiss your neck.

“Goose?”

“I’m fine.” you say, holding your breath. “What’s up?”

“Are you serious right now? Is he…is he…” Tess laughs, then she whispers, “Are you having sex?”

You grab onto the sheets and squeeze your phone so hard in your hand that you think you just might crush it, and you look up at John as he smiles smugly. He bites his lip as he jerks his hips, and he reaches down to cover your mouth as you moan.

“What do you want, Tess?” you finally manage to choke out.

“Oh, uh, nothing big. Just wanted to let you know that my water broke at 2:58.” she says, and you put your hand on John’s chest to stop him.

“What? Are you going to the hospital?” you ask, and John sits up a little.

Tess laughs quietly, “Well, I’m currently sitting in the car while mom and Jimmy run around frantically. Keep having sex though. Don’t mind me, I’m just going to shove a baby out of my vagina in a few hours.”

“Tess, I’ll be right there. I’ll get dressed and I’ll be down there in 5 minutes.” you say, then you grab John to stop him when he starts to get off of you. “Okay, babe? I’ll be right there.”

Tess sniffles a little, “I’m really scared.”

“I know, and I’m coming.” you say, and the line goes silent for a moment, “I…I didn’t mean it like that, but…”

Tess laughs hysterically, “Oh, sweet Jesus. Just finish up and get down here so I can tease you in person.”

You toss your phone onto the floor, then you grabs John’s biceps and wrap your legs around him tighter as he begins to rock his hips faster. Both of you were trying your hardest to hold it off, and now that you’re going to meet Tess in 5 minutes, you’re ready to finally have that orgasm that’s been building this whole time.

John puts your right leg over his shoulder, then he takes deep and long thrusts as he rubs your clit, and you grab at his arms and whimper as your body tenses up. Letting out a string of moans, you moan John’s name loudly as he beams with pride, then he grunts as he thrusts so deep that you swear he’s going to tear you in half.

“I’m coming,” you whine, tilting your head back, “Fuck, you’re making me come!”

John lays down on top of you to kiss you as he bucks his hips every few seconds and spills inside of you, his warmth filling your core. You lay there for a moment before John pulls out, then you immediately get up and run into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

You head back into the room and grab a sports bra from your drawer, then you pull on the first pair of leggings you can find. John is getting dressed as well, and the two of you move around each other quickly. You spot yourself in the mirror and notice your hair looks like a mess, but you don’t have time to fix it so you just pull it into a bun on the top of your head.

“Ready?” you ask as you zip up your hoodie.

John nods, hopping on one foot as he puts his shoe on, “Yup.”

You grab your bag by the door, then you hop in the car and wait for John to lock the house. He gets in the car and starts it, then he backs out of the driveway. Tess’ car is gone, so you assume that they’re already on their way to the hospital.

“I’m so nervous.” you say, reaching over for John’s hand, “She’s really scared, and as much as I love Jimmy, I just don’t know how he’s going to react to this, so I need to be there.”

“I’ll get you there, baby.” he says, then he presses on the gas a little more, “We’ll be right behind them.”

__

Tess is already in her room when you walk in, and you sigh a breath of relief when you see she’s smiling and laughing. Jimmy is sitting in the chair next to the bed, and he’s holding her hand as the nurse talks to them. You quietly slip in and gesture to the couch for John to sit down, and you wait for the nurse to leave before you walk over to Tess. She smiles at you, then she lays back and closes her eyes.

“Epidural?”

She smiles, “Yup, and I feel pretty dang good. It hurt like a bitch, but whatever, I feel fantastic. How are you?”

You look around the room, then point at yourself, “Me? I’m fine. I just wanted to be here with you, I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

Tess looks over at John and smiles, “I don’t blame you.”

John’s cheeks turn red, and he takes his phone out of his pocket to look at it to avoid Tess’ gaze on him. You look back at her and shake your head disapprovingly.

“At 3 AM? Really?”

Your mom furrows her brow and stands up, “What about 3 AM?”

“Tess, I swear to god.” you warn, but Tess just laughs loudly as your cheeks begin to burn.

“I called her to tell her that my water broke, and when she answered…” she laughs, and your mom looks at you, squinting her eyes playfully.

You look at your mom and shrug, “What?! We’re trying to get pregnant, okay?”

You walk over and sit down next to John who is still looking at his phone, and he winks when he glances at you. You smile when you see him commenting on a picture that Amanda has posted of Benji, and you lean your head against his shoulder as he continues scrolling through his phone. He shows you the picture that he posted of you from earlier that day, and you roll your eyes when you read the caption.

“Cheesy. I always love your cheesy captions.” you whisper as he looks over at you, “I didn’t even see that you posted that. I haven’t looked at my phone all day.”

John looks at the picture on his phone and smiles proudly, “I just like to show you off.”

“And I love that.” you say, leaning over to kiss him.

John smiles as he leans over to kiss you, then he looks up when the nurse comes back in. He widens his eyes and looks over at you to give Tess some privacy when they lift the sheet to check out how she’s doing.

“I don’t think I should be in here.” he whispers, and you look up at him, “I don’t think I should be in here when she’s giving birth. I mean, she’s like my little sister. I don’t really want to see that.”

“I’m not going to be in here. It’ll just be Jimmy and my mom. We can sit outside when she’s ready to push.”

“Wait, really?” Tess sits up on the bed and looks at the nurse, and you look over at her. “Like right now?”

“Like right now.” the nurse nods, “You ready to meet your baby?”

Tess looks around as she begins to grow nervous, “I mean, yeah, but…”

“Tess, you’re going to do great.” you say as you get up and sit down next to her, “You’re going to see your baby, and he’s going to be perfect.”

“What if I die?” she asks, and Jimmy starts to laugh.

“You’re not going to die, babe. It’s gonna be fine.” he stands up and helps her get in the right position as more nurses enter the room.

You look over your shoulder as John slips out of the room, then you look back at Tess, “John and I will just be outside the room. If you need me…”

She nods, “Just yell, yeah, I will.”

You hug Tess tight, then you lean down to kiss her belly, “I’ll see you soon, Finny.”

As you back out of the room, you look at Jimmy as he holds tight to Tess’ hand and he presses a kiss to her forehead. There’s no need to be worried about Jimmy, he’s going to do great. Your mom already has tears in her eyes as she stands on the other side of Tess and holds her hand. You would have been more than happy to be in the room with Tess, but with all the nurses, it’s just too crowded. The people who need to be there are there: your mom and Jimmy.

John is leaning against the wall when you walk out into the hallway, then he nods his head towards the cafeteria, “Let’s go get something to eat.”

You intertwine your fingers with John’s and look up at him, “Felt a little weird to just leave earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…we just had sex and I got up right after.” you shrug as you get on the elevator, “We usually lay together and talk after.”

John laughs and leans back against the wall, “Well, yeah, but we didn’t have time.”

“I would be terrible as a one night stand. I would want to sit and talk to them, and they’d be like, internally screaming because this girl will not get out of their bed.” you say, and John laughs again. “Was I like that the first time we had sex?”

“The first time we ever had sex, we took a shower right after and you fell asleep. I was the one talking.” he laughs, reaching for your hand when the elevator dings, “So, no, you weren’t like that.”

“Oh, yeah…” you smile as you lean up to kiss John, “That was the night you told me that you were in love with me.”

__

You and John are sitting outside of Tess’ room as she cusses loudly, and you’re both trying to keep yourself composed, but it’s really fucking hard.

“Jesus Christ, why does this hurt so fucking much?!”

“You’re almost there, babe.” Jimmy says, and you peek into her room to see Tess struggling to push.

It’s so hard to not run in and be with her, but you can’t, so you sit back down next to John and pick at your nails. John puts his hand on top of yours and gives you a reassuring smile when you look at him.

“I know this is hard for you.” he says, then he winces when he hears Tess grunting.

“Where is she?!” Tess finally yells, and you smile proudly when she calls your name. You walk into the room and stand at her side as she cries, “Fuck, this is hard. I can’t feel anything down there.”

“It’s okay, Tess.” you wipe her hair away from her face and smile, “You’re doing great.”

Jimmy looks between her legs and smiles wide, “Baby, he’s coming, I can see him.”

Tess’ face is pure determination and focus as she gives one big push. She exhales loudly and sits back to gain her strength to do it again.

“You’re doing great, Tess.” you whisper, and she looks over at you, “One more push!”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but it’s not one more push, it’s like five.” she whines, nearly in tears.

You grip her hand tighter and look at her, “You can do this, Tess.”

Tess pushes several more times as you all encourage her, then she finally sits back when she hears Finn crying. You back away so the doctors can help clean him and Tess up, and you walk back into the hallway to find John. You fall into his lap and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Wow, she did great.”

John smiles, “I heard. You should be a mid-wife.”

You laugh loudly, “It’s really nice to have a fiance who thinks I’m good at everything. I frost a cake, you think I should be a baker. I put a band aid on your cuts, you think I should be a doctor.”

“Because I believe in you, and I know you’d be great at all of these things.”

Rolling your eyes, you lean down to kiss John, then you look up when the doctors and nurses start to leave the room. There’s still a nurse or two coming in and out of the room to help Tess, so you don’t know whether or not the two of you should head in to see Finn.

“Did you see him?”

You shake your head, “No, but man, he’s got a set of lungs on him. He’s definitely Tess’ baby.”

__

You and John are still waiting outside of Tess’ room since she’s being tended to, and you’re playing a fun little game of ‘I spy’ to pass the time. John has won almost every round so far since you gave up after he picked things that were way too hard to guess.

Jimmy finally pokes his head into the hallway and waves at you and John, “Come meet him.”

Holding hands with John, you walk in and see Tess holding Finn in her arms and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He has a little hat on to keep him warm, and you nearly die when you see the tiny little diaper he’s wearing.

“Congratulations, man.” John says, hugging Jimmy, then he walks over and kisses Tess’ cheek as he sets the vase of flowers he bought on the side table, “Good job, Tess. He’s beautiful.”

“He’s so tiny!” you frown dramatically, then you rub your finger against his cheek, “He’s so cute! Hi, Finn. Oh wait, you named him Finn, right? You didn’t decide at the last minute to name him something random like Rexford or…Tobin?”

Jimmy laughs as he looks at you, “Nope, Finn James Hendricks. You can keep calling him Finny James.”

“Though I did go back and forth between Finley and Finn, but we settled on Finn.” Tess hugs him a little and lets out a small laugh as she wipes away the tear on her cheek. She looks up at Jimmy and frowns, “Sorry if I was mean to you.”

Jimmy waves it off, “No problem, babe.”

“I feel bad.” she says, and she starts to cry. “I feel so bad for being mean to you my whole pregnancy, and now I’m really emotional.”

“Aw.” Jimmy walks over and sits down next to Tess as your mom takes Finn from her so the two can have a moment.

Your mom stands in front of John on the couch and smiles, “Would you like to hold him?”

“Oh, uh,” John wipes his palms on his jeans and looks at you, “Uh, yeah, I’ll hold him. Will you help me?”

“Of course.” you laugh, and you smile as Finn is placed in John’s arms.

“Hey, buddy.” John whispers and smiles, “He’s so tiny.”

Finn looks so tiny in John’s arms, and he wiggles in his place a little as John gets comfortable. He’s wiggling around pretty wildly, and you’re a little surprised to see him looking around as much as he is. He has Tess’ blue eyes, but he’s a good mix of the two.

Finn scrunches up his face, and John looks at you with concern, “Did I do something?”

“No,” you shake your head and lean closer, “He’s fine. I mean, realistically, he’s probably pooping right now.”

John begins to bounce Finn in his arms a little, and you look over at your mom and smile proudly. John has always been such a natural when it comes to kids, he just hasn’t realized it yet.

“He’s really cute.” John says, looking up at Jimmy and Tess.

“Yeah,” Jimmy puffs his chest, “He got his looks from…well, no, he definitely got his looks from his mom.”

“He definitely looks like the two of you.” your mom says as she packs her bag.

Tess laughs loudly and shakes her head, “He looks like a potato right now, and I can say that, I’m his mom. Oh, my god. I’m a mom.”

Finn lets out a loud cry, and John immediately leans over to hand him to you. You take him from John and rock him in your arms as he falls back asleep.

“Hi, Finny James. You just don’t know who this guy is, do you? He’s just not used to your voice, John.” you look at him and bump his shoulder, then you look at Finn, “That’s your uncle! He’s a big softie, and I bet you’re going to love him so much when you’re older. He tells really bad jokes, but it’s okay because he’s just so sweet. He’s gonna love you unconditionally, and you’re gonna be so grateful to have him as your uncle.”

John laughs, “Thanks.”

“It’s true. And eventually, you’re going to have a cousin, and they’re going to be your best friend. The two of you are going to be inseparable.” you lean down and press several kisses to Finn’s soft cheek, then you look up, “Tess and Jimmy, he’s beautiful. I’m really happy for the two of you.”

You try to hold back the tears as you hand Finn to Jimmy, but John can see you struggling. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

It’s so nice to see Tess and Jimmy so happy, and you’re beyond excited that Tess is finally able to hold her baby. The two of them can’t stop smiling and kissing each other and Finn. You have to admit, it does make you a little sad that it’s not you in this position instead. You’ll get there eventually, but it’s okay to be sad.

Tess is getting tired from all the work that she did, and Jimmy is pretty tired as well, so you figure it’s probably time to leave.

“We better get out of here and let you two -- oh, nope, you three get some rest.” you say as you walk over to them. You reach out and give Jimmy a big hug, and Tess smiles as she watches you two. You kiss him on the cheek, then you lean over to hug Tess, “Are you staying here all day tomorrow?”

“They said I need to be here for at least 24 hours to monitor me and Finn, so, yeah, basically. Jimmy’s parents will probably come up here in a few hours too.” she says, and you nod your head. “I’ll probably be home Wednesday morning.”

Your mom is talking with John and Jimmy, so you look back at Tess again to continue talking to her, “You did a great job, Tess. Your mom and dad would be so proud of you, and they’d be so happy for you.”

Tess immediately tears up and looks away from you as she starts to cry, “Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry that they couldn’t be here for this, but mom and I are so proud of you, and I am beyond happy for you. The way your life has turned out, I don’t know anyone who deserves it more.” you grab a tissue and wipe away the tears on your cheek, “You have an amazing husband, and now you have the most beautiful little boy.”

Tess is still crying, but she nods her head and looks up at you. You lean your forehead against Tess’, and you both let out a small laugh.

“If you need anything, let me know.” you press a kiss to Finn’s head, then you stand up and walk over to John when he reaches for your hand. “Mom, are you staying here?”

Your mom wrings her hands and shrugs, “I’m not sure.”

Tess nods, “Yeah, stay here with us. Just in case.”

“Well, I guess I’m staying here.” she says, then she reaches out to hug both you and John.

Tess sits up a little and looks at you,“Oh, wait, can you get Sadie? I hate that she’s home alone. Garfield will be fine, but Sadie is probably wondering where we are.”

John nods his head as he walks over to Tess, “Yeah, of course. We’ll get her once we get back home.”

Looking back at Tess, you smile wide as Jimmy scoots onto the bed to sit with her. They look like such a cute little family, and your heart couldn’t possibly handle more, but when John leans down and kisses the top of Finn’s head, you nearly pass out.

“Okay, well, that just about killed me. Get that baby away from him!” you laugh, tugging John’s arm. You look at Tess again and wave, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll come visit you obviously.”

“Bye.” she smiles, then she looks down at Finn and gives Jimmy a kiss as you slowly close the door.

__

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[harley-sunday]

Things We Lost in the Fire [01]

Prompt found on Pinterest: During a bank robbery you’re surprised when the criminals seem to recognize you and retreat in fear. Only after do you learn that your high school sweetheart now runs a global crime syndicate and has you placed on a “no harm” list. You decide to pay him a visit after all these years. 

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader (F)

Warnings: Language.  

Word count: 4279

AN: This is as AU as AU’s get, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. But that prompt, oh that prompt was magnificent! This story basically wrote itself, during two very boring afternoons at work. I think it’s unlike anything I’ve done before, story-wise, so I hope you’ll like it. Please let me know what you think! Also, as this will only have about four parts and it’s not your usual reader insert  I’m thinking of doing a taglist, so leave a comment if you want to be included. Once you’re on the taglist I would appreciate a reblog or comment for any chapters that follow. ♥

Masterlist

“Well, fuck you too!” you sneer, flipping off whatever asshole cuts you off so bad you have to slam your brakes, the seat belt restraining you as you jolt forward. Jesus, can no one drive these days, or what? 

You want to give yourself a moment to recover from the near-hit but then some other asshole behind you honks a couple of times, urging you to get a move on. You flip him off for good measure too, cursing quietly because it’s not even seven in the morning and you’re already done for today. 

You’re still pretty pissed off when you pull into your designated parking spot at work, close to the entrance of Carver State Bank. You’ve worked here as a bank teller ever since you moved from Atlanta back to Savannah four years ago and well, it’s not your dream job but at least it pays the bills. You started out as a temp, not really interested in working at a bank, but you needed the money. Bad. And then when they offered you a permanent position after your three months were up, you figured, why not, and stayed. 

At Carver State you’re the only one of the tellers who works full time, the rest of them all middle-aged women who, at most, work three days a week. There’s five of them in total, and all of them are very kind. You have a soft spot for Bea though, the oldest of the bunch, because once she found out you were out here all by yourself, she decided you need some TLC. She checks up on you whenever you’re sick, brings leftover dinner to work for you to take home whenever she gets the chance, and she keeps hoping you’ll find a nice guy to settle down with. You even spent Christmas with Bea and her family last year. And honestly? You love it.  

Bea is also working today, but won’t be here yet because the bank doesn’t open until nine, and you only got in early to decorate Bert’s office, who turned fifty-nine this weekend and starts at eight every damn day. 

Rummaging through your purse you manage to find your keys just before you make it to the front door and once you open it, you hurry to the keypad to punch in your alarm code without really looking at the display. The lights that are supposed to come on automatically don't, and so you wonder if the alarm was already disabled by someone else but you can't check now unless you ask Bert to log on to the security system and that's not really an option at this moment. 

The sun’s already been up for about an hour, so there’s enough light from outside to help you find your way to the back anyway, and so you figure there’s no harm done. But then you hear a sound coming from Bert’s office you wish you would have paid more attention to whether or not the alarm was activated. Your heart’s in your throat in an instant and for a moment you wonder what to do, because maybe someone’s robbing the bank, but then you hear a quiet, “Gosh darn it,” coming from the office and you can’t help but let out sigh of relief.

“Hi, Bea,” you almost whisper so as not to scare her, but she still does, clutching her pearls when you open the door. Just the sight of her instantly lifts your mood. 

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you ever do that again!” She slaps you with the ‘Happy Birthday’ banner she was trying to pin to the wall and then laughs when you fake being hurt.

“Oh, Bea, I’m sorry,” you say, pouting a little for full effect, “but why are you here anyway? Didn’t we agree I’d handle the decorations?”

“Oh honey,” she says, handing you the banner and thumbtack she was holding, “I’m sure we did, but I really couldn’t remember, so I figured I might as well come in to either do it myself or to help you.” She grabs a bag of balloons from the desk and pulls one out, stretching it and bringing it up to her mouth, but not before she says, “You do the banner, hon, I’m better at blowing anyway.” 

The rest of your workday is pretty uneventful, except maybe for the second serving of cake Bert offers you after you’ve given him your best rendition of  ‘Happy Birthday To You’ with the fake British accent you mastered at University. Don’t ask. 

Bea’s in the middle of telling you how she excited she is her grandson Zachary starts Kindergarten next week and you are trying your very best to make it look like you’re paying attention when really you’re trying to figure out whether or not it would be weird to go get a cocktail after work. By yourself. On a Monday. Because goddammit, after the morning you’ve had, with that near-collision, you’d sure as hell deserve it.

You have just dutifully hummed to let Bea know you’re still listening, or pretending to anyway, when the automatic doors open and a young couple walks in. As most young couples do, they head straight to Bea and so you stand up, relieved to get a break from her monologue, because even though Bea is as sweet as they come, the woman sure loves to talk. You let Bea know you’re going to get a coffee just before she greets the clients and make your way out of the secured area to the small kitchen down the hall. 

You’re waiting for the machine to come to life, impatiently tapping your fingers on the counter top because it takes this thing at least a full minute to warm up, when you think you hear a noise coming from the front. It has you rooted in your place, your ears straining to hear anything else, but it stays quiet and so you wonder if you’ve imagined it. The machine’s finally up to temperature and you’re about to press the button for a cup of coffee when you hear Bea shouting something that sounds like, “Over my dead body!” 

You’re not sure if it’s instinct or those endless safety drills Bert puts all of you through every three months, but your body has reacted long before your mind does when you find yourself running to his office. You enter without knocking, slightly out of breath when you whisper, “You need to push the button, Bert,” before you run back out again.

You know you’re supposed to go hide somewhere, wait it out until the police comes after the call from the panic button goes through. Maybe even try to make it outside using the back exit, but you can’t leave Bea out there all by herself. What if something happens to her? What if something has already happened to her? You find yourself getting angrier the closer you get to the door, because goddammit, how dare they try to come here? How dare they fuck up your quiet Monday afternoon with their attempted robbery. 

Attempted yes, because if it is up to you they will not succeed. 

By the time you push the handle you are fuming and ready to give these fuckers a piece of your mind, but then you see three men standing on the other side of the secured area, all armed to their teeth with assault rifles and guns, and it keeps you rooted in your spot, your voice lost somewhere in your throat. A quick glance around the room tells you the young couple is nowhere to be seen and for a moment you’re thankful but then you can’t help but wonder if they had any part in this. Your eyes land on Bea then, who stands behind her desk, a defiant look in her eyes even though three men have their guns trained on her. All of them are quiet and for a moment you’re proud because it looks like Bea’s got the upper hand.

It’s then you spot the fourth, and what you hope is the last man out of the corner of your eye. He’s trying to pick the lock of the door that leads to the secured area you’re standing in right now, a groan escaping him when he spots you. He sounds annoyed as if you’re just a distraction he now has to deal with. He stands up quickly, drawing his gun and one by one the men turn to you as a sort of response to the sound guy four made. 

They are all wearing balaclavas as a disguise and so you can actually see their eyes go wide when they see you. For a moment you’re sure it’s because they weren’t expecting anyone else to be here, even though everyone knows there are always at least two tellers present in a bank at any given time, because security, but then it’s almost like they recognize you. 

One of them actually mutters a quiet, “Oh shit, it’s her.” 

As if on cue they lower their weapons and retreat, quickly leaving the scene of the crime without taking as much as a penny, leaving you and Bea stunned at what just happened.

“And you are sure that is what they said, ‘Oh shit, it’s her?’ and then they left?” the Detective asks you for what feels like the hundredth time. 

You nod, “Yes, I am sure.” 

You let out a frustrated groan because you’ve been questioned for over an hour now and honestly, it makes you feel like you’re the criminal. “I’m not sure I can give you any new information at this point. I’ve told you everything already,” adding what you hope is an exhausted sigh for good measure. “Can I go home, please?” you try and to your surprise the Detective tells you you can. 

He informs you that they’d like to do a follow-up interview tomorrow and lets you know that they’ll contact you when they have any leads or news regarding the case. “We would appreciate it if you stay in the area for at least a day or two, Miss,” he says while pocketing the tiny notebook he used during the interview, “or at least let me know if you are thinking about leaving Savannah.”

You nod, because it seems like a fair request, before the Detective dismisses you with a wave of his hand and a quiet, “Thank you.”

When you step out of Bert’s office you find him leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” you nod, because it sort of true. Sure, you’re still a little high on adrenaline, but other than that you feel fine. Maybe because the whole ordeal last only about twenty seconds or so. For you, anyway. “How’s Bea?”

“A little shaken up,” Bert admits, while walking you to the exit. “Her husband picked her up once they were done questioning her and she agreed to take the rest of the week off.” He turns to you, his voice unusually soft when he says, “I think you should too, kid.”

“What and sit at home, driving myself crazy thinking about this?” You shake your head, “No thanks, Bert, I’d rather just come in tomorrow.”

He sighs, knowing you’re too stubborn to take his advice, “At least start a little later then, ok? Eleven is fine.”

“Fine,” you huff, crossing your arms in front of your chest, not liking this special treatment. 

“Fine,” Bert mimics and gives you a wink. “See ya tomorrow.”

You glance at your alarm clock again, letting out a frustrated sigh when you see it’s already three-thirty in the morning and you’re still wide awake, the events of earlier today replaying in your mind every chance they get. You know you’ll probably won’t sleep any more anyway and so you grab your phone, pull up Google and type ‘2019 bank robberies’, surprised when you get over six million hits within less than a second. You know banks get robbed left, right, and center, but you never expected to see ‘Georgia’ pop up in so many results, stunned when you read the headlines:

Armed robbery in Macon, GA, leaves tellers tied up, but otherwise unharmed, in empty safe. Robbers walk away with half a million U.S. Dollars.

Macon, GA, robbery linked to Atlanta, GA robbery. 

“These guys are professionals,” local Sheriff admits among ongoing investigation. 

Pembroke, GA, next target of band of robbers. Two people injured after public tries to interfere.

Georgia robbers most likely part of a much larger crime syndicate operating nationwide. FBI now involved. 

“Jesus,” you mutter quietly, after finishing reading the last article, your eyes wide in shock. It’s not so much that, if it really is the same group that’s responsible for all these robberies, they have committed an awful lot of crimes already, it’s more that they never seem to hurt anyone. The only time people got hurt was when someone tried to run them off the road after the crime occurred. From the stories they seem almost polite, which is weird. 

Not for the first time you wonder why and how they seemed to recognize you and more importantly, why they left after that. Does it have something to do with their unwillingness to harm people? Biting your lip you go over everything again, from the moment the young couple came in until the robbers fled the scene, but still there is nothing that stands out. 

The sound of your phone ringing wakes you and you’re surprised to see it’s already eleven-thirty. Oh shit, you were supposed to be at work at eleven and so you’re sure it’s Bert calling when you answer with an, “I’m sorry, I overslept. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” 

“Uh,” the voice on the other end of the line is much deeper that Bert’s and you groan when you realize your mistake. “This is Detective Johansson, we spoke yesterday?”

“Yes, God, I’m sorry,” you sit up and cover yourself with your blanket even though he can’t see you, “how can I help you?”

“I just wanted to let you know we’ve gotten a hold of some of the security camera footage of the area, and I wonder if you could come in today to see if there’s anything or anyone you might recognize.”

“Uhm, yeah, sure.” You clear your throat, “When, uhm, when would you like me to be there?”

“One would be good,” detective Johansson says. “Just ask for me at the front desk.”

“Will do,” you say, but then you hear the call has already been disconnected and you look at your phone in disbelief. How rude. You shake your head and thumb through your contact list, pulling up Bert’s number to let him know you won’t be able to make it to work after all today, not surprised when he tells you he already asked Cathy to fill in for you for today and tomorrow. Just in case.

“Nothing?” Detective Johansson sounds a little shocked. He’s shown you footage of several security cameras, and one even captured the robbers in their getaway car, without their masks on, but the image is too grainy to see any facial features you might recognize. He must know this too but he makes it seem like it’s your fault. You decide right then and there that you really don’t like him. You’re sure he’s good at his job, but he’s got the social skills of a shark.  

He returns to the stills from the security camera footage inside the bank, once more lining them up as if you haven’t already studied every single detail. You have been here for almost two hours and Detective Johansson has been relentless in his questioning, making you go over everything again and again as if you haven’t already told him everything you know when he took your statement yesterday. 

“I’ve already seen these,” you offer quietly, “I doubt there’s anything else I can give you.” You let your eyes dart over the photos again and while you’re aware the Detective says something about looking harder, you hardly register it because all of a sudden your eye catches something on the left side of the bulletproof vests the guys are wearing and you hold your breath, because no, it can’t be.

You try to play it cool and hope you don’t give anything away when you let your eyes dart over the four photos again. On every single vest there is a patch with the letters JS on top over the number 82. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. At first you thought it was just the brand of the vests but now that you’ve actually seen what’s written there you know that it’s not. And you also know why they might have recognized you. 

Fuck.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour, trying to figure out what to do. The decision is made for your when Detective Johansson, rather unfriendly, tells you they’ll be in touch if they find any new leads, effectively dismissing you. 

You clear your throat and look up at the detective, “I’m sorry, I really wish I could help.”

He just nods and grabs the pictures, leaving the room without so much as waiting for you to follow him. 

“Asshole,” you mutter quietly, hoping none of the security cameras picked up on that.

You try to act cool as you leave the station but your heart’s racing and you tell yourself to slowly, slowly walk to your car so as to not draw any suspicion. Once you’re in your car you take your phone out of your purse, but then you realize you’re still in front of the police station and this might not be the best place to Facebook-stalk the person you think might have something to do with all of this, and so you start your car and head to Tybee Island, the twenty-minute drive doing nothing to calm your nerves.

Finishing the coffee you’ve ordered you think back to the past twenty-four hours, because that’s how long it’s been since your life got turned upside down. To the minute. You’ve checked.

Not for the first time it feels like you’ve ended up in a movie, but the fact that you had to stop for gas on your way over here was a perfect reminder that this is still very much real life. No matter how bizarre it seems. 

The waitress brings you the bill even though you didn’t ask for it and you’re about to tell her there’s a thing or two about customer service she still has to learn, but then you figure you might as well get back to it, because there are some questions you desperately need answers to. 

You try to recall the pictures the Detective showed you and even though you are certain that, even with the knowledge you have now, there’s no one on there you recognize or know from when you were younger, the JS 82 is a dead give-away. It has to be him. But why? 

You’ve tried everything but there’s nothing about him on Facebook or Google, even though you aren’t really surprised, because why would there be? You’re sure most criminals would rather avoid social media. Just to be certain you try Josh as well, but also, nothing. That’s not surprising, considering how bad of a state he was in when you last saw him. You wonder if he even is still alive.

You turn your phone over in your hand while you look out over the beach and wonder if you should just swing by his house. Well, his parents’ house. You doubt he still lives there, even though that would make one hell of a headline: ‘Armed robber found living in basement at parents house.’ You can’t help but laugh when you picture the scene of him being arrested, taken from his room in nothing but his boxers. 

You shake your head and make up your mind, knowing it will probably lead to nothing anyway, but you just have to know. Maybe he has nothing to do with this and it’s all one big coincidence, but you won’t know until you go there, won’t you?  

You’re not sure if actually going to see his mother is a good idea, because what if the police have put a tail on you? You grin then, because you are definitely not important enough to be tailed. Jesus, you’re just a bank teller. Get a life.

Plus, if it really is him, you reason, well, they haven’t been able to catch him until now, so what would your visit change? It seems like the police still don’t have a clue who’s behind all this. You’re assuring yourself it’ll be fine. 

Leaving the money needed to pay for your coffee and a little tip on the table, you get up before you grab your purse and head back to your car. 

The drive over to his parents’ house doesn’t take long, also because you still know how to get there without your navigation, and are you really surprised it still looks the same as it did sixteen years ago? No, of course not. 

You hesitate for a moment before you get out of the car, because if anything this is all just fucked up, but you know if you really start to think things through now you’ll never make it to the door. It takes you a few minutes to pull yourself together but then you’re finally on your way. 

Taking a deep breath you ring the bell and it isn’t long before you hear footsteps coming towards the door. You hear the handle being turned and for a moment you wonder if he’ll be on the other side, but then you you see his mother standing in front of you and suddenly there’s this lump in your throat that you try your best to swallow away. 

“Oh honey,” she says, her voice as sweet as you remember, her Romanian accent still there somewhere in the background, even after all these years. “He knew you’d stop by. Come on, get inside,” her voice drops then, “don’t want anyone to see you.” 

She wraps her arm around your shoulder and closes the door with her left foot, the way she always did and which often got her scolded at by her husband, claiming her shoes left a mark on the door he had to repaint every year. 

You let her lead you to the living room where she points to the couch, “Sit.” You obey, of course you do, and watch as she heads towards the kitchen to get you a drink no doubt, but then she seems to think better of it and walks to the bar cart instead, pouring two glasses of Scotch. She hands you one before she sits down next to you, “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you say, but you notice the way your voice catches in your throat, making it sound like your asking a question. You want nothing more than to have her explain everything to you, but you don’t know how to start and so you just sit there, the sip of Scotch you took burning its way down your throat.

“I really can’t tell you much,” she offers after a while, because like always she knows exactly what you think, “but he wanted me to give you this.” She takes a folded envelope out of her bra, an apologetic smile, “Sorry, honey, had to keep it safe.” She laughs then, “At least it’s warmed up.” 

You can’t help but smile too and carefully take the envelope from her, putting it in the side pocket of your bag. That’s for later.

“He also wanted to give you this,” she continues while she takes something out of her purse. It’s a single key, no ring, no marker. She gives it to you, “Pawleys Island. I’m sure you remember the address?”

You nod, because yes, yes you do. You know this will lead you to the last beach house on Atlantic Avenue, where you spent many summer days with him. Happy memories start flooding your mind, but you push them back. For now at least. Maybe tonight you’ll let them in. 

His mother puts her free hand on your arm, interrupting your thoughts, and gives it a little squeeze, “I really wish I could tell you more, but he made me promise not to. Plausible deniability, I guess.”

You’re not sure if she’s talking about her or you. 

She smiles then, “He’s changed, I mean, that much is obvious, but,” she clears her throat, “the boy we both know and love is still in there somewhere. It’s not all bad. Just,” she squeezes again, “just hear him out, ok?” 

You nod, because you don’t trust yourself to speak, tears already threatening to spill from your eyes. Being here, talking to his mother, it takes you back and it reminds you of all the good times you had and you can’t help but wonder what happened. Well, you sort of know what did, but you wonder what got him there and if the dots you are slowly starting to connect are the right ones. 

You know what you’re doing is wrong and that you should probably just call Detective Johansson and tell him everything you’ve found out so far, but you just can’t. You want to hear the other side of this story first. 

You want to know why your high school sweetheart started robbing banks.

[blankdblank]

Next Caller Pt 38

Saturday started with an early morning wake up for you after the early night in and off to bed making you went. One bed at a time you made up each beginning with the sea foam room increasing your muscle ache to get back to work at the hotel again. Your three weeks were over and it was back to work again to jump back into your usual schedule. Crossing off that room you were back to the blue/orange room to make those four beds then headed to the kitchen to make a cup of cocoa while you gathered things to fix breakfast. Groggily Thorin came out to do just that only to spot you with a mug earning a narrowing of his eyes and rumble of, “What are you drinking?”

Turning your head to look at him you said, “Cocoa. Want some?”

“No thank you, I’ll get myself some juice.” He said starting to set the table and then jump in to help finish and serve out the food you had made.

By the time you had cleared your plates however the doorbell rang and you glanced at one another then he turned motioning his hand for you to stay there while him in his tensing shirtless wonder went to inspect who was here well before sunrise. Hushed conversation brought you to the entrance hall to spot Thorin accepting sleeping Frodo into his arms to slump across his chest. With Bilbo groggily bringing in a pop up crib saying to you softly, “Balin’s brother in law got into an accident.” Balin was next to show up as Bilbo came in to set up the crib in your living room next to the one he set up for Billi, who Balin eased into it telling you, “I am so sorry to drop in on you like this.”

You shook your head, “Don’t worry about it.”

Balin nodded saying, “We should be back tomorrow, hopefully early, he’s in surgery and his clan will need help in settling matters as he’s the only male left in a clan of thirty.”

Thorin patted Frodo’s back, “We’ve got the pebbles, do what you need to.” Watching as you accepted the full bag of jarred food for the pair you took into the kitchen to unload seeing the list of food schedules with notes of their preferences to help you out.

You were the closest couple able to handle the pair with enough room to help keep them occupied and not have you all on top of one another. While they slept you waited in the living room cuddling in the light of a crackling fire under a blanket only to wake again in time for their breakfast hearing them peering up at Kuu and the birds peering down at them. From playtime to ample pictures of your art sessions with the kids and bath time for Thorin where he lost the bubble wars bleeding into a joint story time from old Dwarven fairy tales you broke out their parents had little to worry about for the care of the duo.

Saturday into Sunday post toddler wielding trip into the town market to see what their sales were up to the both of you handled them with ease unable to have a moment to worry about anything. At least until your doorbell rang as dinner was being prepped and their parents poured in to join you and share all that was missed. Out again they went with toddlers in hand leaving you both clearing up the dishes only for him to sigh and hum out, “And I was eager to hear the Tale of the Shadow Man.”

Giggling softly you replied, “We can still read it if you like.” He nodded and from there you cuddled in the living room reading through the tale while the flock of birds’ moods were soured a bit in the absence of the toddlers they wanted to bid goodnight again.

 *

Pictures of your babysitting venture would be compiled later for another scrapbook with copies for the parents and a bit uncertain somehow through breakfast without the extra bodies to feed and ready for the day you both were off out of the garage headed for work. With pictures in hand Thorin left the muffins aside to smirk seeing his cousins coo and melt over the pictures of their time away only solidifying their opinions that you were well matched to raise some pebbles of your own soon. Thoughts that were kept to themselves to not spook your timid selves while you found your footing, still thoughts of how adorable your pebbles could be began to run rampant while the photos were circulated through text messages.

Balin broke Thorin’s scowl halfway through their shift patting his back asking, “Today’s the big day huh?”

Thorin glanced at him, “Meaning?”

Balin, “Back to the hotel.”

Thorin nodded in a deep sigh, “Yes. Four hours of sleep a night four days a week.”

Dwalin said, “Well you did say she’ll have an in home studio.” That had Thorin glance at him, “Meaning, she could always record some to add to those days.”

Balin, “Not to mention she could very well be due for a bump up to an overseeing job soon enough. Could manage the girls instead of the full twelve hour shifts.”

Dwalin nodded, “Dis will settle things.”

Thorin, “She likes the job, misses it. I can tell when she just made up the guest beds we have now. I don’t want to force her out of something she would miss just because I feel jealous of how long she’s away when she’s spectacular at it.”

Balin, “It will work.”

Thorin shook his head, “I don’t doubt that. Even have a lunch prepped for her. I figure I keep breakfasts ready for when she gets home and I have lunches here then it could work out well. She could see that I am determined to get this to work on her terms.”

Dwalin patted his back, “She will be more than grateful for your efforts.”

Comforting comments and ways the pair could help, including possibly working to give him Thursdays off, a list was drafted for consideration. Another downright scandalous introduction of an Elven Lord to the tale had the listeners puzzled until it unfolded tangling with the rest of the tale in your usual abstract way not revealed until the last moment.

.

The sound of your engine had eyes shifting upwards and to your usual table at a point from Balin you strolled through the back to the office, in which Thorin was unstacking a packed lunch he had fixed up for the both of you. With a soft blush creeping across your cheeks you walked over and hopped up onto the seat crossing your ankles saying, “You made lunch.”

“Yes I did. You need to eat for your first day back.” After a moment he said, “And yes, I did have to.”

Inhaling again you lifted the fork he slid closer to you on a napkin while Dwalin came over with a pair of mugs. A picture taken of the drink and into the meal you focused on and listened to him saying, “Since the first is tomorrow and you have the information for the rent I was thinking I write you a check for my half and you do the wire transfer, then I can just pay the trash fee online.”

You nodded, “Sounds good. I was wondering about that, I already did have the transfer preset in my account monthly. It would make things easier.”

“That’s good then.”

“Um, I have the house papers in my study under the tin shaped like a house. Should have the details for the trash fee there.” The conversation bled on into what you might think up for the weekend to possibly do, a mention of a possible dinner by you seemed to stun him entirely. But he broke out of it to bring up maybe heading to the ax throwing place for another group outing possibly. For nearly an hour the chatter continued cut off with the alarm on your phone signaling his cleaning up to show you out the back to wave you off for your drive across the bridge back to the Findis hotel.

.

Pulling into the back entrance to the employee garage you followed the biking lane and parked hearing a few of the Dams you worked with calling out your name. Flashing them a wave you waited for them to hurry over to walk in with you. “Pear, how are you doing?”

Another asked, “We heard about your Adad’s death. Are you doing well?”

You nodded saying, “Yes, much better now.”

After a point to the helmet in your hand another asked, “You have a scooter now?”

“Yes, I was able to juggle some funds. And I got a good deal. Pretty useful past rainy or overly gusty days.”

The first chuckled saying, “I can imagine it would be better than taking the train everyday. And it suits you.”

The second nodded, “Yes, and after a rough patch you certainly deserve to spoil yourself.”

“I hope it hasn’t been too rough on extra shifts without me.”

They shook their heads but the third said, “No, though we are thrilled to have you back. There have been whispers regulars on your floors miss your personal touch.”

.

Like a glove you wiggled back into your cleaned uniform and into a braided bun your hair was wound and secured by the hair pins secured by bead coated bands. With old cart back to your usual route grinning to your mp3 player’s usual play list for you while you worked. Upon completing your final room before lunch with ten minutes to spare you exited your room to find Tili outside with a grin, “Evening.”

“Yes, good evening.”

“I see you’re right back to your old groove.”

“Yes, not that hard to. I am grateful for the time off, but I am glad to be back.”

She chuckled saying, “Your next room after lunch has four clients in it so Vili will be ready to handle your evaluation to get that out of the way. Then you can jump back into your second room and the next shift can cover the first room when they check out.”

“Sure, copper floor, right?”

“Yes, though Vili will be down to show you up.”

“Ok.”

Her grin eased out more and she asked, “We heard about you and Thorin minding pebbles over your weekend, did you get enough sleep?”

You nodded, “They were very well behaved. Though Thorin is helpless with bubbles.”

She giggled walking with you as you pushed your cart back to their holding area, “Yes, he is. We heard you took to them right away.”

Softly you giggled saying, “I have watched my sisters for vacations before, same with my friend’s twin boys. A pair of infants doesn’t phase me. So Balin’s wife shouldn’t be worried about asking to have sitters the closer she gets.”

That had Tili pausing fully when you entered the lift to face you, “Closer to what?” Her brows inched up in her asking, “She’s pregnant?!”

“I really have to stop ruining pregnancy announcements.” You muttered to yourself.

“No, no, no, we have a wine tasting this week. You caught a pregnant feel from her?”

“Well, ya. I thought you all knew, why they brought Billi over so she could just focus on her family business.”

“Who else is pregnant?”

“Um, I don’t know who you know is pregnant.”

“Mili?”

“I didn’t think she was married.”

“She’s not yet, at least.”

“Well she’s not.”

Tili, “We know Gorgo is, she had her latest sonogram on her break. Diaa?”

“Not, that, I could tell. There were some at the family thing, don’t know their names, other than Dis.”

She let out a playful gasp, “Dis’ pregnant?!”

With a smirk you replied in her giggle, “Funny.”

“It is a wonderful thing that radar of yours.”

“Not really, second pregnancy this month I’ve spoiled.”

“Who else is pregnant?”

“Zeqbe,” Her lips parted, “She came to talk to Thorin, couple weeks now, back when it was gusty. Wanted to talk to Thorin alone.”

“I hope he turned her down.”

“He did. She wasn’t happy about it though even with the news.”

She looked you over, “She didn’t bother you?”

You shook your head, “No, though Thorin and everybody seems to assume it would.”

“You, wouldn’t, be jealous, at all? For her past connection to him?”

Looking up at her again you said, “They dated back in college, guessing on the time frame, from what I’ve gathered. Obviously an idiot leaving Thorin for the Muffin Man.”

With a snorting giggle she joined you out of the lift giggling out, “Yes.”

“Can’t be jealous of someone who is unfaithful anyways. Besides if you want to get technical our families are in wedding prep mode so if you want to get cocky what’s to worry about there.” The last sentence had a quite nervous squeak to it making her brow arch up.

“You said both families?” you looked up at her, “Your family is setting a date?”

“No dates yet, any sort of date really. I mean we went to a go kart place with the boys and Mal with Frerin as guard or buffer or whatever term he used, but I’m not sure if that was a ‘date’ date or if it was a ‘hey let’s go have a fun racing day’ sort of outing.” In parking your cart you sighed and caught her eye saying, “It may be too much to share but I’m sort of at odds with knowing what to expect through this sort of limbo spot. I don’t know if it’s meant to be grey area or if it’s supposed to be blunt without question, ‘hey dinner tonight get ready for our date.’ Call me old fashioned-,”

“Dwarves are very old fashioned.”

“And I know everyone says ‘time’ over and over again, just,” you rolled your eyes, and blew a raspberry making her chuckle joining you for your turn to clock out for lunch. “I mean did your husband just limbo his way?”

She giggled again, “I went to his house and sat down with his parents giving them my papers of courtship.”

“Contract, right. I might just have to do that, get it in writing. Me, him and a witnessing notary setting a dinner date.” Making her giggle again, “I’m not making fun-,”

She shook her head, “Sad to say that would be terribly romantic for a Dwarf.”

“I don’t know, it’s just we made collages of pictures,” deepening her grin at your grin at her, “And him and Dwalin hung them up on the wall of the living room, and we just seemed so couply. Then just the babies showed up and it was feedings, art time, play time, bath time bubble wars, bedtime stories and he’d have such adorable babies.” The last sentence said with a sigh as you both sat down at the table of your choosing for the lunch she had already intended to join you on. You shook your head, “Just odd. You read about courtships that say they’re not simple, then listen to people and it gets even more jumbled then you just plop a person you end up binding into a betrothal with and it gets rough even without clan obligations or cultural traditions.” With a grin you gave your orders and then you glanced at her again after she had given hers.

“Though your friends I hear were quite helpful in simplifying matters.” You nodded, “Elopements are much simpler for cross clans and races to unify. It sounds rather lovely, a private ceremony for you both and a courthouse stop for you and a demonstration for our clan around your clan’s traditions for the reception that we could easily work into a two or three day thing to fit it all smoothly. It will be lovely whenever it does happen, though I will say if Thorin is hanging pictures of you both in couply ways it should be soon. The contract was handled marvelously and the home is settling for the both of you nicely. Common areas, guest rooms, you are settling into patterns and even your Ravens are settled somewhat.”

“Yup, getting there.”

“What sort of date do you have in mind?”

“Um, well we did talk earlier, actually on the trip to Helm’s Deep we talked about an ax throwing place, earlier before work we talked about maybe going this weekend.”

“Sounds like fun,”

“Though he hinted it might be a group thing again. If we did have an actual date date would it have to be supervised?”

“No, that would be entirely different. The guard would be there for your comfort easing into a date,”

“So a pre-non-date, date then?”

Making her giggle again and answer, “It would seem so. We all do empathize with your irritation though. We have all been there.”

More date options were shared through the meal as well as possible times over the weekends or Thursdays that you could all plan a girls day of sorts to keep up with the progress. When your table was cleared you watched the blonde pair switching off watch of you and following Vili once you had clocked in again you joined him for the lift ride up to the copper floor of offices. From the loveseat with your legs sideways and ankles crossed you watched him settle into his chair and start to go section by section through your eval ending with a raise bumping your pay to 19.5 an hour. A small bump but tolerated by you for not being too extravagant contrary to the hope of the blonde across from you.

 * A few hours prior with Thorin *

Huffing in his step back into your home on his first afternoon alone Thorin hung up his coat and on his way to his room to change he stopped and turned to look at your guest rooms seeing one of your dresser kits just sitting there. The grin on your face was just addictive when your pride swelled in completing more of your ideas for the full design for each guest room. Nodding to himself he turned to fetch your tool chest from the garage he returned with to cut open the kit and while chatting with Roac he assembled it and finished by sliding it right where you wanted it. Pausing only mid construction to grumble at the sound of a roll of thunder passing over the house hinting that you would possibly be riding home in drizzle at minimum if it hadn’t passed by then,

Suppertime rolled around and at the table he had his laptop out with a notepad to get a full run of his financials. The rent check was written out easily along with a simple e-payment for the trash he marked off his list on his haphazard calendar of expenses. Then he eyed his just dusty growing accounts from his various investments already granting him a hefty surplus of cash without even counting those from his trust and again with another loud crash of thunder he switched over to a website for a family friend’s car dealership.

Cleaning up early he grumbled his way to bed once he’d ensured the house was locked up still to be up in time to greet you with a warm meal on the table.

 *

Inside your garage you shivered off the chill coming before another round of drizzle creeping in that you had just barely missed leaving your helmet on your scooter closing the rolling door behind you as you reached the door to head inside the house. Instantly the warm home wafting of fresh cooked soup and grilled cheese had you hanging up your bag, leaving your shoes by the door, and following the scent to the kitchen. Shirtless Thorin with a drooping bun had you frozen a moment until he turned flashing you a sleepy grin.

Lowly he rumbled, “Must be cold, come warm up.” Onto the seat beside his you sat down in his asking, “Today go well?”

“Ya, had a talk with Tili, sort of let out that Balin’s got another pebble on the way,” that had Thorin’s eyes flinching wider at you, “And then Vili did my eval and gave me a raise, just a buck fifty, which I think he did well in restraining himself from rising higher.” Looking at him you said, “She no doubt spread the word and you will be hearing confirmation in a few days. Sorry, I know you’re tired. Thank you for making food.”

He shook his head, “No need to thank me. I thought it would help you get some sleep. I have a scramble in the slow cooker we can have in sandwiches for breakfast before heading off to work again.”

“That’s-,”

“I want to, and you can’t stop me.” That had you smirking at him making him chuckle and easing your spoon closer to your hand, “Eat up, then off to bed.”

“How was your day?” You asked lifting a sandwich to dip into your soup you then took a bite of.

“Work ended well, after that came home and I put together one of the dressers for the white/orange room.” You looked at him again with a mouthful of food. “I figured I could help you out with some heavy lifting at least.”

In a nod you continued eating easing his worries greatly while he shared on the check for you and that he had paid the trash fee already while hinting that his finances were secured and no strain was put on them by paying the bills. On your way to bed once the bowls were cleared you added the check to your wallet, thanking him again in your goodnights.

The scramble was excellent and dressed a bit warmer in jeans and a sweater with the sleeves you tugged up uncertain if it might get chilly again on your ride home from the hotel like it was the night before crossing that bridge. Waving each other off you went off separately, him for his shop while you stopped at the atm on the way to deposit the check.

 *

“She told you?” Balin just about sniffled out with a wide grin. Upon seeing Thorin in the shop already. Hugs were traded and Dwalin less than gracefully wept a bit at the expanding line of Fundin hopefully to be added by a surrogate aided Durin from him to join Frodo in a year or so. The lot of the family that the news had exploded through were grateful to have another birthing celebration to plan with your warning to the surprisingly late term pregnancy evening out when Dis was due.

Along with baby news plans for the ax throwing place had brought the boys and Frerin to join in along with Dis and Vili who jumped at the chance to have dinner with you all to keep things going after Tili had shared a hint of a nudge being necessary on your behalf. The other dates had been sorted through by the guys who had also tried to shuffle more serious ones up front to his attention hoping to keep him moving forward as well and not coasting now that you were sharing a home.

Your lunch however had a hug stolen by both brothers thanking you for alerting them to their unnoticed treasure hidden right in front of their noses before leaving you to just Thorin’s company. Food led to joint lounging in a spilling of thoughts on the day so far including an obnoxious proposal in your station nearly interrupting your show had Mal not snuck out of the booth to shoo them to a different floor with the mini parade.

Off again you went and Thorin pulled out his phone checking the time, after confirming to the pair he was on his way to meet up with Frerin he drove home, parking in the garage he closed behind him to stroll through the neighborhood park to get to Frerin’s place. On foot Frerin eyed his brother arriving and he asked, “Run out of gas?”

Thorin shook his head, “No, after this could you give me a ride?” Frerin’s brow inched up and he said, “Surprise for Mafioso.”

Frerin smirked saying, “One condition.” Watching the crew unloading the last of the wood for the shelving systems they were installing through the house.

Thorin rumbled back, “This should be good.”

Making Frerin rumble back playfully, “Start calling her your Mafioso.” Thorin glanced at him and he shrugged, “Otherwise my car just might need to have the tires rotated.”

Thorin huffed and he grumbled back, “Fine.”

Frerin smirked victoriously, “So what are we buying my dear Sister?”

“Made a call to Hleronc, picked out a car.”

“Car for who?” Frerin teased making Thorin roll his eyes.

Almost gravely he replied, “My Mafioso.”

Widely grinning he asked, “And how do you plan to break this news to Sis?”

Thorin inhaled then stated, “I was just going to park it in the garage.”

Frerin laughed and smoothed his hand over his eyes, “Bold approach. Very bold.”

Thorin, “I’m not demanding she use it everyday, just if it’s going to rain or it’s windy she has a backup plan.” Frerin caught his eye in lowering his hand in another creeping smirk, “I just want, my Mafioso, to be safe.”

“Don’t we all. Which car?” Thorin smirked pulling out his phone with the image in the messages he had been trading with their friend to hold the car and get it ready for purchase so he could just sign the printed forms he had filled out virtually and hand off the check then drive it off the lot. Frerin gave an approving whistle and rumbled, “Nice, good safety ratings too, cute and sporty, sits well next to yours. Great choice.”

“Here’s to hoping she doesn’t throw anything at me.”

“Doubt she’s the type. Might be a bit huffy at first but she’ll be thankful once it rains again. Set to be another wet spring.”

.

The shelving didn’t take nearly as long as Thorin had guessed by the initial view on things and within two hours the duo was locking up the house to climb into Frerin’s sports car to head off to the dealership. The drive didn’t take long though upon driving up they spotted their friend grinning on the curb outside the glass wrapped building moving closer when they had parked and started their walk over to the mint sports car parked next to the curb ready to go.

“No offence but when you said you were in the market for something sporty I pictured something, well, larger at least Oakenshield.”

Smirking at his friend he shook hands with upon reaching the car’s hood he replied, “It’s a gift for my betrothed.”

That dropped Hleronc’s jaw, “Betrothed? When did this happen?”

“Not long now, still new, just moved into her home.”

Smirking as the brothers looked over the car carefully Hleronc asked, “She didn’t want to come herself?”

Frerin, “She’s at work.”

Thorin, “Besides, she has a scooter, I just really want something for her to choose if the weather is a bit more unforgiving. As it has been.”

Hleronc nodded, “Fair point. Well you chose a sturdy little number for her. I am guessing she’s smaller than you, by the size?” Frerin nodded gesturing at his shoulder making Hleronc smirk at the adorably petite size of his friend’s betrothed.

Thorin, “I like it, practically off the rack-,”

He nodded, “Yes, barely fifty miles on her. Fully checked by myself fluids, air levels and all. Ready for the road.”

Thorin nodded after a confirming glance at Frerin and said, “Let’s do the paperwork. I have cash.”

More friends inside greeted the pair ready to tease Thorin on his choice. Only to grow excited on the secret intended of their school friend they were all eager to set up a get together to meet said tiny heart throb who stole the heart of their normally sullen friend now grinning at the mere thought of a possible grateful hug at the extravagant and thoughtful gift. The check instantly after being scanned into the system cleared and the keys were passed over with the group smirking in watching Thorin heading out to squeeze his way into the waiting car. A shared glance had him saying, “Heading to the store next.”

Frerin nodded and followed behind smirking at his brother insisting on giving your car the test of the drive home. Yet at Bubbles and Barrels, the same shop Vili had boasted buying your roomba in to Frerin, the pair strolled and with a cart some new towels for Thorin’s room to replace the ratty ones he had been hiding from you he added new ones then led the way to the appliances straight for the waffle makers. Glancing from the wall of choices Frerin asked his brother, “In the mood for waffles?”

“The morning after we spooned in Helm’s Deep my Mafioso said if she ever refused waffles she was taken by body snatchers. If the car makes her angry I can at least have some waffles ready for her.”

Following a deep throated chuckle Frerin replied, “Clever, distract her with food. May take a couple thousand plates though.”

A notice of a work related task had Thorin heading home alone. Smirking his way through backing into your bare spot in the garage that he closed to head inside. In washing his towels he added the trays for the waffle maker he set on the counter into the dish washer then in a surge of helpful wishes he got started on the second dresser kit. Dinner alone to climbing into bed for his nap until you got home he was smiling wishing for the best, day dreaming countless reactions you might have even though he knew you might dig your heels in a bit at first.

Pt 39

@avaria-revallier​

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 2: Boss

(from the Flatmate Trilogy: Two Hearts, One Home)

...in which Y/N deals with more problems at work, and Harry makes a life changing decision.

Word count: 4.1k

Chapter 1: Honeymoon - Y/N and Harry go to Greece for their honeymoon and run into a couple they hate.

Wattpad link

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Y/N wasn't a workaholic, she kept telling herself that, but it did feel good to finally get back to work after her honeymoon. The trip was doubtlessly wonderful, and she'd never felt more loved in her entire life. If she'd had a choice, she probably would've picked to stay on the island with Harry. But let's be realistic, how could they afford another expensive holiday if they neglected their jobs? Now it was time to focus on what really mattered for their future together. Money.

Besides, Y/N did miss her desk at the office, and even though her co-workers weren't all angels. She was sure some of them missed her, if not all. When she came back, they would rush to her with open arms and said—

"The proposal you sent me was crap."

All eyes in the room shifted to Y/N, who was still trying to figure out what was happening. She'd heard that everyone who had worked with Catherine Daniels had all the worst things to say about this woman. They said that she was terrible to people, that she was afraid of no one and wouldn't take criticism from anyone in this firm, that the only reason she was head of Media Relations was because she'd been here the longest. This was actually the first time Y/N had spoken face to face with Catherine, and she kind of understood why the nickname Catherine 'Dictator' existed.

"But that was what the client—"

"Enough with the same excuses." Catherine scoffed. "You people in Client Service has one simple job, to negotiate with the clients so it's easier for us, the ones who actually have to do the hard work and handle the journalists."

Y/N almost said sorry for something that wasn't entirely her fault, in hope that it might put an end to the tension between them. Thankfully, Kate showed up just in time to back her up. She gave Catherine a dirty look, pulling Y/N to her side.

"Go terrorize the people on your team, Catherine."

"Elizabeth is on maternity leave." Catherine responded with a sarcastic chuckle. "Who else would I blame this for? You?"

Elizabeth was the head of Client Service, Y/N's department. Unlike Catherine, that woman was the sweetest and she would never talk down to any of her team members. While watching Kate and Catherine arguing, Y/N really wished Elizabeth would magically appear and make everything better again.

"Mr. Coleman will take over Liz's responsibilities until she gets back," Kate chided as she put both hands on her hips. "So maybe you should go tell him how crappy you think the proposal is? He'll be in his office tomorrow morning."

Y/N almost forgot. There was someone in this company that Catherine was afraid of after all.

"Feels good to be teacher's pet, huh?" The hateful woman whispered to Y/N before turning back to Kate and said through gritted teeth, "if she doesn't send me a better proposal by tomorrow, set me an appointment with Coleman. He needs to know when to fire his favorite employee."

As Catherine stormed away, Kate turned to her wide-eyed friend, looking extremely pissed off. It couldn't be more obvious that she loathed that woman as much as anyone here; however, Y/N's tolerance of such rude behaviors was the main reason she was fuming with rage.

"You shouldn't have let her talk to you like that!"

"She was just...trying to do her job," Y/N mumbled, giving Kate a shrug. "I mean...it's probably difficult to deal with the media."

"Sis, it's the client who pays you money to deal with the media, so believe me, if the client wants the moon, you give them the moon! No question asked!" Kate slammed both hands onto the table, nearly causing Y/N's coffee cup to fall over. "Catherine always puts herself first and shits on all the others anyway. But don't worry, Jack will definitely defend you."

That was exactly what made Y/N worry. Jack would defend her, or at least try to fix her mistakes. After all she wasn't only his employee, but also his friend and might've been something more in the past. Even though she knew he would always be fair, these people in the office did not, and they might just assume she was getting special treatments simply because she was his favorite. The smartest solution here was to give Catherine what she wanted. Not because she was afraid of Catherine (maybe a bit), but because she didn't want Jack's reputation ruined for helping her, again.

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"Screw. Me!"

"Later, I'm washing dishes."

"Haha, funny." Y/N shot her husband a glare as he turned to check her reaction. He expected her to laugh along. She always would no matter how lame his jokes were. But this time all she did was breathe out and carry on with whatever she was doing on her laptop. She'd been working ever since she got home, and only stopped to eat dinner before getting back to work again. Harry was surely worried. The last time his wife worked this hard, she ended up passing out on her desk after consuming too much coffee, he nearly had a heart attack that day.

"Maybe..." He dried his hands and headed towards where she sat at the table. "Maybe you and I can Netflix and chill tonight?"

Y/N giggled when his breath tickled her neck and he laid a soft kiss on her shoulder blade, throwing in a sweet "I love you" as if she didn't already know. Her husband was just trying to distract her from work, and even so, she let him. She should be distracted for a little while for her brain to function again, and he seemed to be in need of a little affection. When she turned to him, their lips met for an urgent wet kiss which sent him down on his knees by her side.

"Come on," he muttered, all out of breath as his lips curved into a slop-sided grin. One of his hands were resting on her hip, the other on the backrest of the chair. "Play with me and I'll let you go."

"Play with you?" Y/N chuckled as she cupped his face. "Is this why you let Layla and Niall watch Treasure tonight?"

"That's the kind of parent you think I am?" The man faked a faint gasp that made his wife giggle. "Actually, Layla's having dinner with her dad's family, and her stepmother is allergic to cats so..."

"So you let her use our daughter as a revenge tool." She jokingly lifted an eyebrow.

"Are you calling me a bad parent then?"

"Harry! No!" Y/N burst out laughing when her husband took both of her wrists with one hand and started ticking her with the other. She fought to get away, accidentally slipping right off her chair and collapsing right on top of him. Now the table had turned, she blocked his arms and executed the tickle torture until he laughed so hard he couldn't breathe.

"I surrender! Surrender!"

"You cannot surrender after what you did to me, baby. That's not the rule." Y/N knew he could've stopped her easily, yet he still let her win. So she showed some mercy by letting him suffer for a little more before raising her hands to call a truce. Harry combed his fingers through his messy locks, breathing heavily and flashing her a lazy smile.

"I'm done playing with you. Can I please go now?"

When she patted his chest and attempted to move, Harry quickly sat up, fingers clutching her thighs to keep her still. He knew she could just brush off his hands and get back to work, but it was her choice to stay in his lap. So he flashed her a cheeky grin. "But I'm not done playing with you."

"Baby, I'm serious." She sighed, gently stroking his hair. He was like a baby now, pouting and nuzzling her neck, pleading for attention, which she would gladly give him if Jack's reputation and her own weren't hanging by a thread. "I need to get this proposal done by morning."

"You're always working overtime and now you're working at home too," he said with a big frown. "I feel like no one beside Jack acknowledges your effort."

"Exactly! Thank you! I mean, I love my job but I gotta admit most people in PR are assholes." Harry couldn't hold back another smile when she turned serious and started counting on her ten fingers to illustrate her point to him. "So take ten people at my office, four of them will hate me, the next four don't give a damn about me but they love the drama and believe dumb rumors anyway, the two people left are Jack and Kate."

Harry pressed a kiss to his wife's cheek, laughing as he tried to cheer her up, "positively speaking, your two supporters are your boss and your boss' assistant. You still win."

"If you put it that way," she said, beaming at him. "Well, I'm only working this hard because we need money for our future family. So when we finally get super rich, it's over for them. I might even quit the job and we can go on honeymoon every weekend. Sounds great, huh?"

Harry stayed on the floor after his wife had kissed him and returned to her laptop. "Feels good to just imagine," she said in a sing-song voice. However, he knew there was also truth behind that joke, that everything could be much better if they were wealthy people, that she could have the life he'd promised them both, no more extra hours at the office just to impress people who weren't so nice to her.

The opportunity was right on the table, all he needed was to swallow his pride and seize it. And because of her, he might actually consider working things out with his dad.

The next morning, Harry could barely pay attention to anything else. He sat in his office, staring at a half-finished email to his dad's assistant which he'd written last night, trying to decide if he should send it. He just wanted an appointment with Devlin, but then what? What was he gonna say? He didn't want to just apologize for doing nothing wrong only to get this over with. And would Devlin trust him enough to hand him the CEO chair after everything? Maybe he should phone Y/N and ask for her opinion. Even though she'd been on board with this idea since the beginning, and even trying to convince him to go for it, he didn't think he should make this decision on his own. But on second thought, he should wait until he saw her at home, because something like this shouldn't be discussed over a phone call.

There was a knock on the door when Harry was having a debate with himself. He shut the laptop and told the person to come in, Olivia then entered, wearing a massive grin on her face.

"Got you coffee!" She exclaimed happily and placed the cup down on his desk.

"Oh, thanks." He raised an eyebrow as she sat down in front of him. "What's the occasion?"

"Well, yesterday was my birthday so today I bought coffee for everyone."

As soon as she said it, Harry's face scrunched up in guilt. He pinched the bride of his nose and muttered under his breath, "shit. I...I'm sorry, Ollie...I forgot."

"Nah, it's fine." The blonde giggled as she shook her head. It didn't take an expert to see that she was in a much better mood than usual. And Harry was already suspecting a reason behind her strange attitude. "I had the best birthday though," she confessed, the grin on her face grew twice bigger.

Harry recognized that grin. He'd been in a relationship for five years, how could he not? It was as clear as daylight! "Okay, who is he?"

"He?" Olivia arched an eyebrow. Harry knew her better than most people, and that right there was her iconic 'I-know-what-you're-talking-about-but-I'm-just-pretending' face.

"The guy who made this birthday so 'special'."

"Why is the word special in air-quotes?" Olivia giggled. Then it only took a couple seconds for reluctance to wash off the happiness on her face. He was second guessing if it was something he'd said that unintentionally upset her, but he didn't really need to ask as she was gonna tell him anyway.

"There's something I want you to know."

"Okay." He nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he leaned forward, getting a bit impatient. "Is the guy a drug dealer or...?"

"No! Jesus no!" Another soft giggle escaped her red lips. "It's Jack, but—"

"I knew it!" Harry shouted and slammed his fist onto the desk, almost giving the girl a heart attack. Then he started laughing as her cheeks turned pink. "I saw you two dancing at my wedding and I knew it!"

"Okay, calm down," she told him, rolling her eyes even though his reaction was undeniably adorable. "It's not about Jack. Well, it is kind of related to him, but mostly you and...your dad."

"My dad? Are they doing business together?"

"Kind of..." Olivia pursed her lips while fidgeting with the pencils right in front of her. It seemed like she was struggling to find the right way to break this news. "More like...Devlin's selling Styles Corporation to the Colemans."

"You're joking?" Harry's eyes went wide as his mouth hung opened. He was hoping Olivia would crack up and tell him he'd been fooled, but she seemed too serious for him to believe this was just a lousy prank.

"Jack told me last night. I just assumed after...what happened, Devlin wouldn't discuss this with you in advance."

"We don't even talk." Harry blew up his cheeks, tapping his fingers on the desk impatiently. Now their conversation had sunk back to silence. While Olivia was trying to come up with something to say, Harry kept on staring at the email he'd been hesitating to finish. After what seemed like five seconds, there was another knock on the door. A co-worker showed up to tell Olivia that Mr. Davis wanted to speak to her.

"I gotta go now," she said, standing up fast. "Talk to you later, Haz?"

"Sure." He gave her a nod and watched her strut towards the door. But when Olivia reached for the handle, instead of leaving right away, she lingered there for a moment before turning back to him.

"What are you gonna do?" She asked, looking slightly worried.

"I have an email to send," he told her with a smile.

Even though Olivia didn't get what her friend meant, she accepted that simple answer anyway and walked out of his office.

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"Y/N, there you are!"

Kate grabbed Y/N the moment she'd just arrived at the office. She wasn't even late, but from the way many others were staring at her, she guessed she'd missed a whole lot already.

"Tell Catherine I'm gonna send her the proposal right away," she uttered and attempted to walk away, but Kate pulled her back just as fast.

"Haven't you heard?"

Y/N shook her head quickly. She'd rarely seen Kate this excited while at work, and now this girl was smiling as if she'd just won a one-month trip to Bali. So what Y/N hadn't heard might be some actual good news.

"Jack fired the bitch this morning."

"What?" Y/N's jaw went slack as her eyes popped opened. "Is it...because of me?"

"No, silly." Kate snorted, eyes rolled upward. "From what I've heard, she's been selling our ideas to one of our competitors."

"For real?"

"Yup, that's why she got so fed up and asked for a more detailed proposal. The first one you did was great."

"So I just...stayed up all night for nothing?" Y/N's face scrunched up in annoyance, but her question was ignored when Jack stepped out of his office and spotted her speaking to his assistant.

"Mrs. Styles?" He raised his voice, causing everyone to stare at Y/N, who didn't even flinch. As he repeated once again, Kate had to nudge the girl to remind her she was being called, and it was only then that Y/N snapped back to reality. Her whole face turned red from all this excessive attention. It was ironic how she kept forgetting her new name which was probably the one thing she could never shut up about.

"Five minutes," Jack simply said before shutting his door.

Even though Kate leaned in and told Y/N "you're the last person he'd fire, don't worry", the girl was already shaking in her boots. Catherine had been working at this company for ten years and Jack made the decision to fire her in a minute. What if he thought Y/N had something to do with this and fired her too?

Oh no. She swallowed hard before heading straight to his office, ignoring curious stares that were shifting her way. She wondered how many of these people were wishing for her to suffer the same fate as Catherine, still she must put her trust in Jack Coleman.

Right? Right, she assured herself.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N opened the door slowly. The creaking sound caught Jack's attention as he looked up from the computer and urged her to hurry up.

"Okay, before you fire me, you need to hear me out," Y/N spoke as soon as she closed the door. "I have absolutely nothing to do with this."

"With what?" The man looked so confused, and now she was also confused.

"So I'm not here because I'm in trouble?" She asked quietly.

At this point, Jack couldn't keep a straight face anymore. He shook his head and began with a chuckle. "No, why would you be in trouble, Y/N?"

"I...I don't know...Why am I here then?"

"I need to discuss our new strategy with the head of Client Service." His answer seemed to confuse her even more, so he pressed his lips into a smile, and finally told her, "you're promoted by the way."

Those words together had turned Y/N paralyzed. Her limbs became stiff and her expression hardened. Now she could only hear different voices in her head shouting at each other. Was he joking? He can't! It's not April's Fool! But even if it was, Jack's not the type of person to joke about these kinds of things. Am I dreaming? Should I pinch myself?

"Y/N?"

She pinched her own arm when he called her name.

Yup, definitely not dreaming.

"Uhm, I have a question..."

"Sure, go ahead." Jack started beaming when he saw the way his employee was fidgeting with her own fingers and nipping her bottom lip. He had imagined a much worse reaction, so she was actually doing better than his expectation.

"Why?"

"Why?" Honestly, Y/N was very grateful that Jack was patient with her. But his calmness was driving her insane. Now she was on the edge of her seat and she wasn't even sitting down! She was literally sweating when he leaned back and knitted his hands together. "Well, since Catherine no longer works here, Elizabeth will be the new head of Media Relations, leaving her spot empty. And I think you're a great choice for it."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" This question made Jack lift an eyebrow. He didn't say a word, yet she knew he wanted her to explain. And so she did. "Everyone here said that I got special treatments because you...uhm..."

"Because I had feelings for you?"

She swallowed hard and nodded quickly. Now she was glancing at all directions in the room to avoid looking at her boss when he stood up.

"Well, they weren't entirely wrong," he said, leaning back against the edge of his desk and crossing his arms. Those words were all it took for her eyes to shift back to his face.

"I did have feelings for you, and I've always thought you were a great person. But this isn't high school, Y/N. I don't make decisions based on my feelings for someone. If you can do the job well, then congrats, you get the job. If not, then you have five minutes to pack your things and go."

"But people—"

"When you work in this industry, you should care less about what people think of you, and more about what you think of yourself," Jack asserted, smiling back at her. "Are we good now?"

Y/N nodded to agree without adding anything else.

"Great. Now bring your laptop in here, there's a lot of work for you."

Once again, her answer was a single nod as she hurriedly reached for the door handle. But right before she exited the room, Jack stopped her quickly.

"I almost forgot," he said with a soft smile. "Welcome back, Mrs. Styles."

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"Baby, I'm home!!!"

Harry chuckled as his wife jumped right into his arms the moment she walked through the door. She held him so tight, almost squeezing the air out of him, and he could already tell that something big had happened to her at work.

"I have great news!"

"So do I!" He happily declared while grinning from ear to ear. "But you go first."

"I got promoted!"

Those words pierced right through his ears like a bullet. Speechless, he let her drag him into another hug but this time all that he could show was a half-broken smile. Y/N instantly felt his reluctance and drew back to look him in the eyes. Her grin fell as fast as his when she noticed something wrong.

"You're not happy for me?"

"I am. I am, I'm just—" He paused right there. What could he possibly say now? That he'd had lunch with his father and agreed to take over Styles Corporation in San Francisco? That he'd done it for her but now she'd got promoted and would most likely not willing to quit and move to another country with him? No! He couldn't tell her any of that!

So instead of saying the truth, he gave her exactly what she wanted to hear. "Sorry, I'm just shocked. Wow, baby, this is great!" He laughed, squeezing her hands even though he'd never been more anxious before. "I'm so proud of you. You're a boss now!"

Y/N leaned in and kissed his lips, mumbling a quiet "I love you" as she believed without his support she wouldn't have gotten this far. Her excitement had put him in a much tougher spot and now his heart was beating like a drum.

"So," she pulled back to hold his face, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat. "What's your good news, love?"

Shit.

He widened his eyes at her question, lips pressed together tightly. "Well...uhm...Olivia bought free coffee for everyone at the office today."

"That's it?" Y/N gave her man a funny look. However, there was no sign that showed she was suspecting anything. It was almost normal for him to make no sense sometimes that his excitement over free coffee would actually make sense.

"Yeah. Now that I think about it, it's actually not as exciting as your good news." That was a terrible white lie, but Y/N was too thrilled to see it through at this point.

"We need to celebrate!" She declared, bouncing up and down like a child on Christmas morning. "I'm gonna cook a big meal for both of us and we're gonna get so drunk tonight!"

Harry held his breath as he watched the woman he loved dance her way into the kitchen. She had never looked happier, which made him feel even worse. He was blaming himself, still a part of him justified his impulsive decision by saying he'd been given no other choice. Had he waited to come home and discuss it with her, the Colemans could've sealed the deal and taken the company right under his nose. He thought he was doing it for both of them, mostly for her. But unfortunately, he couldn't have seen this coming.

Now standing in the middle of his living room like a stone statue, Harry asked himself the same question Olivia had asked him before, what are you gonna do, Harry?

[ltleflrt]

prompt please: dean/cas panties

Okay so fun fact about this story:  This is actually the first seed of an idea that developed into Satin and Sawdust, but I ended up not being able to use the premise for Reasons.  I always wanted to do this little meet cute ficlet though, so thanks for giving me an excuse.  Also thanks to @pallasperilous for helping me get over the tiny hurdle that I ran into with the plot :D

Working from home means pajamas as a uniform. There’s a lot of advice against it; stuff about “getting into aprofessional mindset” by “dressing like you’re going to the office” and otherbullshit that probably works for others, but Castiel doesn’t subscribe to thosenotions.  Especially not before he’s on his third cup of coffee, and eventhen, why dirty another set of clothing? He hates doing laundry.

Of course, he does haveto leave his apartment sometimes.  For meetings, or to deliver thefinished product to the office.  But for the short trips to the office topick up his mail and deliveries, pajamas are just fine.  It’snot like a t-shirt and some Ninja Turtle patterned sleep pants are indecent, oranything.

Not that he cares whatpeople think about how he’s dressed.  He’s only on coffee number two, andsocial functioning doesn’t start until halfway through cup three.

He’s more alert thanusual this morning though, even if he isn’t awake enough to justify changinginto normal daytime clothing.  A new neighbor has moved in across thehall, and Castiel catches him leaving for work sometimes.  The eye candy is almost equal to a third andfourth dose of caffenation.  Brown hair, scruff, freckles, and eithergreen or hazel eyes--maybe light brown?--plus a body built to kneel before inworship and supplication… The guy’s practically built to Castiel’s taste.

And oh how he’d like ataste.

Maybe he should startthe caffeine infusion earlier.  So he’ll feel fortified enough to start aconversation one of these days instead of just exchanging a smile, a wave, anda quiet hello before they go their separate ways.  And he can finally getclose enough to figure out the guy’s true eye color.  It would be worth getting up earlier.  He’s not a fan of mornings, but he’s a fan ofhot potentially single guys.  He can make an exception.

Unfortunately he seemsto have missed the object of his desire this morning.  The door across thehall stays firmly closed for the few minutes Castiel lingers, hoping to get hisother morning fix.  But he decides it’s just a little too chilly out toloiter any longer, and he heads down to the office to pick up his mail.

There’s three packagesfor him today, and he’s pleasantly surprised because he wasn’t expecting one ofthem for another day or two.  That means he can get started on the nextproject earlier than he’d promised.  Hecan use the extra time that saves him to stock up a few pre-made things for hisEtsy shop.

He goes over a mentalplan for what kind of crazy sweaters he can design for the shop as he opens theboxes.  He smiles as he unpacks the Alpaca yarn, pausing to pet the softgreen.  This one is for himself, and hepromises he won’t use it for any commissions this time.  He’s got a lovelyscarf in mind, and since the weather is getting cooler, he needs to get startedsoon if he wants to use it this winter.  

The second box is fullof regular wool, and he checks to make sure all the colors he requested wereincluded.  Last time his order had been short a few hanks, and it had beena huge pain in the ass to get everything straightened out with his supplier. Everything is fine this time though, and he’ll still be on track for hiscurrent projects.

The third box shouldcontain the vegan yarns.  Not his favorite to work with, but he respectsthat people choose a lifestyle that requires it, and they still want mittens,scarves, and sweaters.  Plus they’re usually okay with paying extra forthe cotton yarn instead of the acrylic. So as long as they’re willing to shell out the cash, he’s willing to knitout the goods.

When he opens the box, hesmiles when he’s greeted with a rainbow of colors and reaches in to pull outthe plastic wrapped skeins.  He rips at the plastic, and then hissub-optimally caffeinated brain catches up with reality and he realizes thathe’s not holding yarn at all, but something satiny.  Whole cloth, not thematerials to make it.

It’s a pair of panties.

Castiel blinks at thered satin in his hand.  “This is not what I ordered.”

He pulls out a few moreplastic wrapped bundles.  All panties. What the hell?  

Finally he reaches theorder sheet.  And when he reads the information printed at the top, horrorcreeps through him.  This package wasn’t meant for him.  He doesn’t recognize the name, but hedefinitely recognizes the apartment number.  It’s for… his new neighbor.  

“Oh, no.”

 ***

 Dean is more than readyto get home and relax after the day he’s had.  Too many fires to put outat the job site, and feathers to unruffle when he had to advise the client thatthe new timeline they were requesting wouldn’t be tenable.  Seriously whatis up with folks agreeing to an estimated finish date, and then wanting it donein half the time?  Entitled bastards.

At least it’s Friday,and he shouldn’t be needed for anything for the weekend.  He’s going tocozy up to a few beers and the episodes of Doctor Sexy building up in his DVRand relax.  

Plus, he’s got a packagewaiting for him that he’s been looking forward to for days.  Just thethought of it puts an extra bounce in his step as he locks up his car and headsfor the office.

Ten minutes later, hisgood mood goes up in a puff of metaphorical smoke.  The package isn’tactually there.

“Are you sure the emailsaid it was delivered today?” the receptionist asks for the third time.

He waves his smartphoneat her.  “Got the delivery notification email right here.”

Her vaguely hopefulexpression crumbles and she shakes her head.  “I’m so sorry, it’s reallynot here.  I even checked to see if itgot left on someone’s desk instead of in the mail room.  There isn’tanything addressed to you.”

Dean sighs and tucks hisphone away.  Well there goes part of his weekend plans.  And on topof it he has to deal with reporting a lost shipment to the vendor.  Funstuff.  “Thanks for checking anyway.”

She smilessympathetically.  “Have a good evening.”

Despite hisdisappointment about the missing package, his plans aren’t totally ruined. So his smile is mostly genuine. “Thanks, you too.”

A few minutes later helets himself into his apartment, and he leans back against the door and justbreathes for a few seconds.  It’s quiet and dark and it’s nice not havinganyone needing his attention.  It reallyhad been a rough week, and he feels like he hasn’t had a minute to stand stillfor days.  The only bright spots in his week have been the notificationthat his present to himself had been delivered, and the few times he’d caught aglimpse of his hot neighbor across the way.

Those are always gooddays.  It’s become something of an obsession for him to see what kind ofwacky pajama bottoms the guy’ll be wearing each time they meet.  Dude’sgot quite the collection, ranging from bumble bees, to kittens, to hammers andsaws, to superheroes.  Plus he’s fuckingsexy with his sleepy eyes and mumbled greetings.  He never quite lookslike he’s all the way awake, but he always greets Dean with a warm smile and adorky little wave that leaves Dean feeling light and bouncy all the way to hiscar.

Maybe when thisconstruction project is done he’ll take a few less intensive jobs. He can seeif his hot neighbor wants to hang out a bit.  Even if he’s not into dudes,it would be nice to make a friend in the new place.  Dean’s used to having a roommate, but nowthat he’s living on his own, it’s a little lonely in his down time.

“Oh well,” he says intothe empty apartment.  “At least I’ve still got Doctor Sexy.”

A light knock betweenhis shoulder blades startles him away from the door.  He looks at itsuspiciously for a moment before putting his eye to the peephole to see who’sknocking.  When he gets a glimpse of wild dark hair and blue eyes, hejerks back in surprise.

Why is Hot Neighborknocking on his door?

Only one way to find out.

When he opens the door,Hot Neighbor seems startled.  He stares up at Dean with wide, very blueeyes, that immediately make Dean’s world fall away for a few seconds.

“Oh,” Hot Neighborbreathes.  “Green.”

The non-sequitur bringeverything back. “What?”

“What?” his neighborparrots, squinting in confusion.

Oh no, he’s cute. Dean’s internal monologue sometimes has a knack for stating theobvious.  He shakes his head, dislodging the thought and dismissing the previousexchange.  “Uh, hi.”

Hot Neighbor shakes hishead too, apparently also needing the mental reset.  “Hello,” he says, anddamn his voice is just as sexy when he’s fully awake as it is when he’s sleepy. “You’re Dean, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me. How did you--?” The question cuts off when he realizes that Hot Neighboris holding a box.  That’s been opened. “Oh.”

Heat rushes into hischeeks when he realizes that this guy has probably seen what exactly is in thatbox.  It’s only slightly reassuring when he also blushes, all the way tohis hairline.  At least Dean’s not alonein his mortification.

“Sorry, I picked this upwith my other packages,” his neighbor says, holding the box out to Dean. He clears his throat and smiles. It looks forced.  “Your girlfriendhas excellent taste.”

Maybe it’s because he’stired, or maybe it’s shock from the situation, or maybe he’s just a dumbass,but Dean’s mouth opens and the truth comes out.  “No, these are for me.”

If the increased heat inhis cheeks is any indication, he’s about to spontaneously combust.

“Oh, um…”His neighbor lifts the box in Dean’s direction again.  His smile turns tosomething far more genuine.  There’shumor there, but also… maybe interest?  “Well, you haveexcellent taste.”

Okay yeah that’sprobably interest.

Dean finally takes thebox, unsure how else to respond to the compliment other than “thanks, man.”

The guy nods and grinsbrightly.  “Anyway, uh… have a good evening, Dean.”  He does hisdorky little wave and turns back to his own apartment.

Before he can open thedoor, Dean’s brain finally shifts into the correct gear.  “Wait, what’syour name?”

Hot Neighbor turns withhis hand on the knob.  “Oh, I’m Castiel. Or Cas.  People call me Cas.”

“Castiel,” Dean says,relishing the way it feels to say.  “I was going to veg out with a beerand some trashy TV.  I got a few extrabeers if you’d like a drink.”

HotNeighbor--Castiel--Cas, beams so brightly that Dean’s a little dazzled by it. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Thrilled, Dean stepsaside and gestures for Castiel to come inside.  When he shuts the doorbehind them, his eyes fall on Castiel’s ass. Through his admiration of the shapely body he notices that Cas is stillwearing pajamas.  They’re covered in Ninja Turtles.  “Dude, your pants are awesome.”

Castiel turns and flickshis eyes down at the box in Dean’s hands then meets his eyes.  “Yours too.”

“Maybe we can do afashion show for each other some time,” Dean suggests, feeling brave.  IfCas was going to be weird about the panties, he wouldn’t be here now, right?

“I think I’d like that very much.”

Oh yeah, they’re goingto get along great.  

Unless…

“I’ve got a bunch ofDoctor Sexy on the DVR.  That sound okay?”

Castiel practicallyglows with excitement.  “It’s my favorite show.”

Dean grins. “Awesome.  Have a seat, I’ll getyou that beer after I put these away.”  

Yup.  Definitelygoing to get along like a house on fire.

[mariequitecontrarie]

The Dinosaur

Summary: It's Belle's second week on the job at Regal Marketing Company, and she's working late with Regina and Gold. Gold tells the story of how the office elevator earned its name. A/N: Happy Fluffapalooza, darlings! Another amazing year of shipping our babies with you! A little fluff from the Cufflinks!verse. Thanks to @galactic-pirates for the help!

On AO3

“It’s time you were initiated, Miss French.” Mr. Gold tossed his chopsticks into the white takeout box, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Belle’s heart did another summersault. Her new boss was unfairly handsome. Dark eyes, brown hair streaked with grey that lapped at his collar, and she’d never seen a man wear a suit quite so well. Despite her nervousness, or maybe because of it, she was finding it difficult not to stare. His was not a classically beautiful face, but intelligent energy surrounded him, a strength that made him more appealing than the most perfect description of any hero in any of the hundreds of novel she’d read. Even the little flake of cabbage now resting on his chin couldn’t detract from his arresting good looks. Regina pointed at Gold with one of her chopsticks and snorted. “You’ve got food on your face, Gold.”

It was Friday, the end of Belle’s second week at Regal Marketing Company, and the three of them were working late over Chinese takeout to prepare for the grand opening of a new medical facility scheduled for Monday morning. Over the past several days she had met and worked with dozens of colleagues and clients but this was her first opportunity to work closely with Mr. Gold, the firm’s senior partner and the man company president Regina Mills called her right hand. Working at the conference room table across from him—the full measure of his attention fixed on her ideas and words—had her poor organs performing a gymnastics routine all evening long. Gold scowled at Regina and flicked at his chin with a paper napkin, giving Belle a chance to gulp down the mouthful of lo mein she was chewing. “Initiated, Mr. Gold?” “Indeed.” He leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. “Into the history of how our elevator got its name.” “The Dinosaur?” Regina rolled her eyes. “You’re not seriously going to tell that story?” “Whatever do you mean, Madam President?” Gold steepled his fingers beneath his chin, clearly enjoying Regina’s pique. “I tell this one to all the new hires.” Regina slanted a disbelieving look in his direction. That sexy little smirk of Gold’s was spreading into a full-fledged smile. There was a flash of white teeth and Belle was thankful to be seated because her knees chose that moment to buckle. Get a grip, French. Regina fixed Gold with a cold glare and Belle shivered at the abrupt drop in temperature. They were done working, dinner was over, and she didn’t want to be caught in the middle of a disagreement with two people she liked and respected. She swiveled her chair toward the conference room door. “Maybe I could hear about it next week?”

According to one of her new work friends, Ruby Lucas, Gold and Regina’s disagreements were legendary. They weren’t above shouting insults at each other from across the office and if Regina wasn’t threatening to fire Gold, he was threatening to quit. Today, while she and Belle grabbed salads at the café across the street, Ruby had confided that one time Gold and Regina had started a food fight, and Gold had gone home with one of his pricey three-piece custom suits smeared with strawberry jam. The story had been amusing, if somewhat alarming, but Ruby had been quick with reassurances: their thunderous arguments blew over as soon as they ended.  

Jealousy had made the back of Belle’s neck prickle. “Are they lovers?” she’d asked, picking at her lettuce. “Good God, no. More like siblings.” Ruby had winked as she popped a cucumber slice into her mouth. “Regina’s dating Emma Swan and Gold? Well, he doesn’t date anybody.” Mr. Gold was single. Belle hadn’t wanted to examine the relief she felt at that particular pronouncement too closely then, as she didn’t want Ruby to guess she had the hots for their boss. Back in the present, she was eager to head home for the weekend before another food fight broke out and she wound up with Kung Pao chicken on her new blue blouse. “See you Monday,” she chirped, rising from her chair. “Please stay where you are, Miss French.”

Belle plopped back down, volleying her attention between Gold and Regina. At least if a fight broke out, she would be available to referee. “This is so typical of you, Gold. Only interested in socializing when it’s at my expense.” With the grace of a basketball player, Regina tossed her takeout boxes into the trash can.   “Are you going to pout about it, Your Majesty?” “How about I fire you instead?” Regina hissed the threat through clenched teeth, but the undercurrent of fondness in her tone belied the harshness of her words. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Try me.” “Oh, go ahead.” Regina sighed in long-suffering defeat. Gold made a show of clearing his throat and turned to Belle. “It was the first day we rented the office. Space was at a premium in town and this place was the best we could do. We were down on the third floor then, in a space a quarter the size of this one.” Belle nodded. These days, Regal Marketing Company occupied the entire seventh floor, but eight years ago it had been a startup and Gold and had been Regina’s only employee. “We toured the building, but we didn’t try the elevator and the building manager forgot to tell us it was slow. It was a Saturday, moving day, and we were riding up with a load of files. The elevator was taking its sweet time, opening on every floor even though no one else was in the building.” Belle couldn’t help but smile at the way Gold leaned forward, his eyes flashing like tiny torches as he spoke. She’d been observing him for the last two weeks. Most of the time he hid away in his office, pretending to be quiet and unaffected, but this was another side of him—one that enjoyed an audience. “Regina started ranting about the elevator being broken, claiming we were going to be stuck for hours. Next thing I knew, she made a grab for my cane and smashed in the emergency button.” “I didn’t smash it,” Regina interrupted. “You broke the panel, dearie. And dented the top of my cane.” Laughter rumbled low in his chest and Belle smothered a giggle. “You should have seen her, Miss French. She was banging on the walls, demanding a refund on the lease. Five minutes later, Sheriff Humbert arrived with a volunteer fire department resembling the Seven Dwarves and calmly explained that this elevator is temperamental and has been since this building was built at the turn of the twentieth century.” “Sue me for not wanting to be stuck in an elevator with the likes of you and your little flip phone.” Regina crossed her arms over her chest. “Ten years later, I think you’re still talking on the same one, aren’t you Gold?” “Why mess with what works?” Gold retorted. “I found the pace of the elevator quite charming, which is exactly what I told the sheriff. ‘From one dinosaur to another,’ is what Regina told the rescue crew, and the name stuck. And that’s why we call our elevator The Dinosaur.” His story finished, he pushed back his chair with a triumphant smile and sipped his coffee. Belle was charmed. She wanted to break out into spontaneous applause, but she thought that reaction might be a bit of a giveaway. “And you tell this to everyone who comes to work here?” she asked. Regina opened her mouth and closed it abruptly. “It’s actually a really good example of the way you complement each other’s leadership,” Belle rushed to add. She hoped she didn’t sound like a kiss ass, but the affection between Regina and Gold was obvious. Gold was worth millions from investments both local and abroad. He didn’t need this job. He cared about Regina and the company. “And by that you mean one of us panics and the other has no pulse?” Regina asked. They all laughed. “It’s all about balance,” Belle said.

Miss French had long since packed up and gone home when Regina stood in his office doorway, watching him. She’d been boring holes into the top of his head for a good five minutes.

“What is it this time, Regina?” he asked without looking up. “Baseball game? Roller skating party?  Whatever little office adventure you’re planning, the answer is no.” “You’ve never told anyone that elevator story before,” she said softly. “You like her.” “Who?” “Belle.” She huffed. “Don’t play games with me, Gold. I’ve known you too long.” He flushed, resisting the urge to loosen his collar. He had no idea what had possessed him to tell that ridiculous story, let alone claim it as some sort of initiation ritual. There was something about Belle, though. She demanded his attention, like a burst of sunshine, a breath of fresh air, and a double rainbow, all bundled into one tiny yet lovely package. She brought vivacity and energy into the office with her clever ideas and her positive outlook on life. He supposed he had wanted to impress her, if he was being honest.

But Regina didn’t need to know all his inner thoughts.

“Go home to your girlfriend,” he said, waving her away. “Fine. I’ll leave you to your paperwork.” She pushed away from the door. “But for the record?” “Yes?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I think she likes you, too.” A rush of heat coursed through him at her words and he realized for the first time since high school, he had a bit of a crush. It wouldn’t go anywhere, of course, but the thought of the charming, lovely, Miss French liking him warmed him for the rest of the evening.

###

[catalinda04]

Carried Away Chapter 47: Darkness and Light

Masterlist 

Lucy was packing her bag to go home after spending the weekend with her family for Easter, when her mother knocked lightly and entered the room.

“Hey, mom.” Lucy said, not looking up from arranging her suitcase.

“Luce, we need to talk.” She said, sitting on the bed, and patting the spot next to her, indicating Lucy should sit too. “We’re worried about you. We don’t like seeing you like this. You’ve been short with everyone this weekend, and we tried to be understanding, but the kids don’t understand why auntie isn’t playing with them.”

“I’m fine mom.” Lucy defended. Her mother gave her a raised eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. “I am. I just...I just feel so stupid. At first I was hurt by Henry’s words, but now I just feel stupid. I actually thought a guy like that would love someone like me. I was living in a fantasy land.”

“Honey, I have no doubt that Henry loved you. The way he looked at you when you weren’t looking, the way he looked after you. You’d make an off-hand comment about something, and he’d make it a reality. But sometimes love isn’t enough. What’s that line from that movie you watched over and over in high school; the Cinderella one?”

“A bird may love a fish, but where would they live?” Lucy recited, and gave a small smile.

“Exactly. So please don’t think that Henry didn’t love you. But relationships don’t always work out, no matter how much we’d like them to.”

“Thanks mom. I’m sorry I’ve worried you guys.”

“Honey, that’s what family is for.” Marie smiled, embracing her daughter tightly.

Over the next weeks, Lucy employed a “fake it til you make it” attitude. She projected a happier demeanor, and in turn started to feel better, by infinitesimal degrees, but better nonetheless. She wasn’t sleeping well, when she slept she dreamt of Henry, but she slowly began to re-enter her life as an active participant.

Luckily for Lucy, April was a hectic month. Prom planning was in full swing, and the kids were driving her nuts with details. They kept her so busy that she could fall into an exhausted sleep so deep that she didn’t dream. By the time prom week actually rolled around, Lucy was thinking she might actually survive the school year intact.

While Lucy was finding her way to the light, Henry was sinking deeper into the dark. After finding Lucy’s letter, he started to withdraw from everyone. Before finding the letter he had himself convinced he was doing what was best for Lucy. She could forget about him, and eventually find someone else to fall in love with and marry. But now he wanted nothing more than to lock himself away where he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

Unfortunately, his life would not allow him to become the hermit he so desired to be. He was a successful actor with a movie to be released soon. Dany had, after discovering his schedule suddenly wide open, scheduled him to several entertainment magazine interviews, radio interviews, and entertainment blog interviews. Normally Henry actually enjoyed doing press for his films, it gave him a chance to show his personality, but he couldn’t seem to find the energy to be charming.

After the third in what was to be a string of interviews, Dany came to the hotel suite he was living in.

“Henry, what’s wrong?” She asked, brushing past him into the room.

“Hello to you too Dany.” Henry said to the air.

“Henry, I’ve gotten complaints from the editors of both the interviews you’ve given that you’re not answering questions, you’re uninterested, and I caught that radio interview this morning. I’ve never known you to mumble, but I could barely make out a word you said. So I ask you, what is wrong with you? Is this some sort of delayed reaction from your break-up with the teacher? You were fine a month ago.”

“I’m just not feeling the interview circuit right now.” Henry replied, looking out the window.

“Well, you better start feeling it. Someone from the studio caught your radio interview today, and they’re not pleased. You need to put more effort into being your regular charming self, or the studio is going to take action.” She threatened.

Henry did eventually start to “play nice” at the interviews, but refused to “play the game” as Dany called it. He didn’t go out and “be seen,” he had no desire to go to the clubs and parties and make small talk with people he barely knew.

He kept Lucy’s letter in his wallet. He read it every night before laying down to stare at the ceiling. He couldn't sleep. Images of Lucy crying kept him awake. He turned to whiskey and beer to dull the pain of knowing what he’d thrown away.

Dany Garcia stared at the glass doors in front of her. If she wasn’t positive that this would help, she wouldn’t have flown and driven herself across the country to this middle of nowhere town. Now here she was, staring at a small school with students streaming out the front door. The littlest ones wearing backpacks bigger than themselves. The oldest carrying maybe a book and a jacket. It was late April and 55 degrees, she was freezing, and these kids weren’t even wearing coats. “Minnesota is such an odd place,” she thought to herself.

She was happy to see she’d timed it right to arrive at the end of the school day. It would give her time to talk to Lucy without many interruptions. She entered the building, checked in at the office, and was directed to Ms. Claussen’s room.

She followed the directions and found the room easily. The door was open. Dany looked in and saw Lucy sitting at her desk. She was surprised at the changes she noticed. This was not the same happy, smiley woman she’d met in January. This woman had dark circles under her eyes, and a frown on her face. Even her hair seemed duller than before. Dany knocked on the door, as she walked in.

“Un minuto.” Lucy said without looking up, continuing to type at speed on her keyboard. When she finished, she looked up expectantly “What’cha need…” she trailed off seeing Dany standing in the room. “What are you doing here?” She asked coldly.

“I’m here on behalf of my client.” Dany said, slowly walking toward Lucy’s desk.

“What? Does he want the earrings back that he gave me, or the necklace? He can have them, it’s costing me a fortune to insure the damn things. It’ll take me a day or so, I don’t have my safe deposit box key with me.” Lucy said, her anger starting to build.

“No. I’m not here to get back any presents.” Dany said confused. “I came to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine. Tell your client,” she practically spat the word, “that if he wants to know how I’m doing, my phone number hasn’t changed.” Dany was confused by Lucy’s tone. She seemed angry simply hearing about Henry. Something wasn’t adding up.

“He doesn't know that I’m here. I came because he’s hurting. He’s been in a very bad place since you two split. He’s been fulfilling all of his contractual obligations, but people are noticing that he’s phoning in his appearances. I think you’re the solution to his current ennui. I came to see if you would be willing to take our boy back. He hasn’t been the same since the split. He’s in Los Angeles right now, Can I book you a ticket for this weekend?”

“Are you shitting me?” Lucy asked incredulously, standing to look the woman in the eye. “Now, Ms. Garcia. I understand that your loyalty is to your client, but honestly, what kind of woman not only suggests that another woman get back together with a man who broke her heart, but suggests that I chase after him to beg him to take me back. I may not be some millionaire Hollywood starlet, but I do at least have my pride.”

Dany’s head spun. It was all starting to come together now. “He broke your heart? Are you telling me that he broke off the relationship?”

“Yes. He told me one day out of the blue that our ‘lives were too different, that this couldn’t work’ then he picked-up his bags and left. I haven't heard from him since.”

“That’s very enlightening. So the break-up was not your idea.”

“Isn’t that what I’ve said?” Lucy asked caustically, losing what little patience she had remaining.

“But you still love him. Would you consider taking him back?”

Dany watched as the woman in front of her deflated, losing all of the fire that, just a second ago, had been directed at her. Lucy leaned forward, bracing her hands on her desk, her head dropping.

“Dany, yes I loved him. But as I said, he broke my heart. I’m not sure I’m willing to put myself through that pain again. The whispers are just starting to die down, I’m sure they’ll pick back up when the next round of interviews and TV appearances start. My life hasn’t changed, and it isn’t going to. I’m a highschool teacher. I live in Minnesota, and I’m very close to my family. What I had with Henry was great, but I don’t know if my heart could survive if he decided that we weren’t compatible again. Now, I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing, but I don’t think I have anything else to say to you.”

“Well, thank you for even speaking to me. Good luck with everything Lucy.” Dany turned to leave. She had just reached the door when Lucy asked quietly.

“How is he?”

“He’s miserable.” Dany said plainly.

“Well, that makes me feel a little better.” Lucy smiled tremulously.

Dany’s head swam with the new information she’d acquired. It would seem Henry had not been honest with her. On her way out of the building, a flyer caught her eye. She took one, forming an idea she hoped would work.

Dany stayed in Minnesota that night, before flying back to Los Angeles the following morning. When she arrived, her first stop was Henry’s hotel room. She knocked, and received no reply. She knocked again, and still got no response. She decided she’d try one more time, before getting management to let her in. Just as she was about to turn from the door, it swung open. Henry stood glaring at her through bloodshot eyes from under a three day growth of stubble. “What?” Was all he said.

“Good morning to you too.” She said cheerfully, pushing past him into the room. It was dark, and stank of stale beer and staler man. He followed her into the room and shrank back as she opened the curtains to the bright California sun. He sat on one of the couches holding his head.

“Why don’t you tell me why the hell you’re here, so I can go back to bed.”

“Henry, it’s 2:00 in the afternoon. You don’t need to go back to sleep.” She crossed the room to him and raising her hand, smacked him in the back of the head.

“What the bloody hell was that for?”

“You’ve been lying to me. I don’t like being lied to.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, you’ve been moping around this hotel room for 2 weeks, only coming out to grumble your way through an interview. The studio is breathing down my neck to get you to shape-up. I needed to do something. I’ve spent the last 24 hours flying and driving, hoping maybe your teacher could cure this funk you’ve fallen into.”

“You saw Lucy? How is she?” Henry interrupted her.

“Yes, I saw her She told me to tell you she’s fine. Though she’s obviously not. I don’t think she’s sleeping much. But I was less interested in her appearance, than what she told me. She told me that you broke up with her. Now how can this be? If you were the one to break off this relationship, why the hell are you so miserable?”

“I love her. Loved her.” He corrected himself. “I’m not allowed to mourn the loss of a love.”

“Of course you are, but you told me that she was the one who instigated the break. If you still love her, why the hell did you break-up?”

Henry wasn’t in the right mindset to argue, so he told her the truth. “Dany, you should have seen her in the classroom. She’s a natural. She was in her element. The kids love her, and she genuinely cares about them. And with her family. They’re so close, and she loves them so much. She told me her niece and nephew are her world. How could I take her away from all of that, because if we got married, I’d expect that she’d move to London with me, it’s where I’m based. So I gave her some line about our lives not being compatible, which is really the truth, and I left her.” Dany watched his face fall even more as he recounted the whole situation. She smacked his head again.

“Henry, Henry, Henry. You stupid man. Did you ask her what she wanted? No of course you didn’t. You just unilaterally decided that this was the way it had to be, and that was that. Tell me, have they done away with all of the schools in England? Do phones no longer do video chat? Do phone lines not reach across the ocean? Have you fallen into some sort of financial distress that I’m unaware of that would make flying from London to Minnesota impossible?” Dany berated him, making his entire decision seem insane.

“I just want her to be happy.”

“Well, she’s not. And neither are you. You need to talk to her. Tell her what you just told me. If you both decide then that you’re not meant to be, then so be it, but give the girl a chance. She’s a strong modern woman. You could do a lot worse.”

Henry leaned back on the couch, his hands running over his face. “Dany, don’t you think I know that? She’s amazing and I let her go.” He picked up Lucy’s letter from the bedside table  and handed in to Dany. “I found this in my suitcase when I was home for Easter” Henry stood to look out over downtown Los Angeles, his eyes staring unseeing into the distance while his agent read the words Lucy had written.

“What conversation is she talking about?” Dany asked.

“I asked her to marry me.” He said quietly.

“Say again. You what?!” Dany asked, sure she’d heard him wrong.

He turned from the window to address her. “Christmas Eve, I asked her to marry me. She said no. Her reasoning was sound, she thought we didn’t know each other well enough, but it still hurt me. The longer I stayed with her in Minnesota, the deeper I felt myself falling. I started to actually think about what being married would mean. And what if I asked her again, and she turned me down again. I don’t know if my heart could handle that.” he explained, his voice strained with emotion as he sank onto the sofa.

“Henry, that’s what love is. You’re giving someone else the power to hurt you, and then trusting them enough not to. Do you still love her?”

“Of course I do.”

“More importantly, do you want to be with her?” Dany asked, sitting down next to Henry.

Henry met Dany’s eyes, “more than anything.”

“Then you’re going to have to do something. She still loves you.”

“What time is it? I’ll call her.” He said, hope entering his eyes. Dany smacked his head again.

“Would you stop hitting me?!” He exclaimed, rubbing his head.

“When you’re done being stupid, I will. But you’re being stupid again. This isn’t a conversation you have over the phone. You have to have this one face to face. And honestly, with the way you’ve acted, you’re probably going to need to do some groveling in order to get her to even talk to you.”

“My schedule is booked for the next week at least.”

“I have an idea about that.” She said producing the flyer she took from the school. Henry’s face split into a grin which Dany hadn’t seen in far too long.

Four days after her unexpected visit from Henry’s agent, Lucy was up to her ears in hairspray, tulle, and glitter. The culmination of her students’ entire year of planning had arrived,  prom.

“Emma, thank you so much for being my date for the night. We need all the chaperones we can get.” Lucy said, straightening a young man’s bowtie.

“Of course, you know I love the kids, and it’s fun to see them outside of school. How are you holding up?”

“I’m exhausted. We decorated all day here yesterday, then last night at the hotel. But after tonight it’s all over.”

“No, I meant how are you doing?”

“I know you did, I’m fine.”

“It’s been almost 8 weeks, honey. I’m worried about you.”

“I was actually doing fine, if you remember, then that woman had to show up. But worry about me tomorrow. Tonight, we need to keep this herd of animals off the booze and off each other.”

The students all gathered at the school to participate in Grand March; a chance for the community to see the students in all of their finery. Just before the event was set to begin, Lucy changed into her Starry Night dress, slipped the opal earrings Henry had given her into her ears, and fastened the necklace around her neck. She couldn’t help but recall the last time she’d worn these jewels, and how happy she’d been. She had debated whether or not to wear Henry’s gifts, but Emma had insisted she wear them. How many opportunities would she have to wear something so extravagant, and while the jewelry was a bit over the top for prom, it made her look sparkly on the outside, even if she didn’t quite feel sparkly on the inside.

Lucy took her place behind the podium on the stage in the gym, the spotlight all but blinding her. She cued the student sound tech backstage to start the music that had been chosen to announce the couples. The students walked to the center of the stage, meeting in the middle, then descending the stairs to the gym floor together. They paraded in front of the crowd stopping frequently for photos.

After the Grand March concluded and pictures had been taken, the students boarded busses for the 20 minute ride to the local hotel whose ballroom was serving as venue for the dinner and dancing portion of the evening. Lucy ensured that all the students had exited the busses before mounting the stairs to the second floor ballroom. She found all of the attendees standing on the stairs.

“Why are we just standing here? Let’s get this party started.” Lucy cheered with false excitement in her voice.

“Ummm…Ms. C? There’s someone here that wants to talk to you.” One of the students called from the front.

What now, was all Lucy could think. Was the hotel mad they’d taped decorations to the walls? What could possibly need her attention right now?

She worked her way through the throng of kids to the top of the stairs, and froze. There stood Henry, in a suit, holding a bouquet of tulips. Lucy was speechless for a moment before she felt a hand on her shoulder. Ryan gave it a quick squeeze. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and collected herself. She turned to the students standing expectantly behind her.

“Ok, so you all, go into the Ballroom. Mr. Williams, would you please take care of...whatever needs to be taken care of. I’ll be in when I can.”

“You do what you need to do, we’ve got this.” He gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze before leading the kids into the ballroom. Henry waved at a few of the kids that acknowledged him, while her drama students gave him an exaggerated cold shoulder. Lucy noticed more than one phone pointed in Henry’s direction, this was going to be all over Instagram in under 3 minutes. Emma came to stand beside her.

“What do you think he wants?” Lucy asked, panic starting to build in her voice.

“I don’t know. But he’s got your favorite flowers, that’s always a good sign. Hear him out though. Men are stupid, and sometimes it takes them a while to realize they've been stupid.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“I’m on your side, and you’ve been miserable for 2 months. You owe it to yourself to hear what he has to say. Then if you’re not satisfied, you can kick him to the curb, and at least get some closure on this relationship.”

Once the lobby area had cleared, Emma entered the ballroom shooting icicles at Henry the entire way, and Lucy finally approached him. She crossed her arms over her chest to keep her hands from shaking.

“What are you doing here?” Lucy asked expressionless.

“I came to see you. You look amazing. You’re wearing my earrings.” He said, reaching out to touch her. She evaded his hand, he pulled it back as though he had been burned.

“What do you want, Henry? I’m working.”

“Is there someplace we can talk?” He looked around.

“I don’t particularly want to talk to you right now, or ever really.” She said turning to walk to the ballroom.

“Please, hear me out. Will you just listen to me?” He asked grabbing her arm.

She looked down at his hand, then back to his face with a look that could freeze boiling tea. He let go. “If I let you talk, will you leave? Leave me to work.”

“Yes, if that’s what you want, I will go, but please will you listen to me?”

“Fine.” She stalked in the direction of the hospitality room the school had reserved to store decorations and prizes. She opened the door and entered, not waiting to see if he was following.

She stood in the middle of the room, and looked at him expectantly. “Well.” She said in the teacher voice she’d used the first day they met. Despite his nerves, Henry couldn’t stop the small smile from crossing his face. The ice that entered her eyes froze his smile before it could grow.

“I love you.”

“You love me?” Lucy asked incredulously. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Would you let me talk? Lucy. I love you. I know what I said, that our lives weren’t compatible. And really they’re not, but I was only thinking of myself. I started thinking about a real future with you, then I saw how you were with your students, and your family, and...I just couldn’t live with taking you away from all of that. I love you too much, and want you to be happy.”

“So you broke-up with me? How exactly was that supposed to make me happy?” Her words were angry, but she could feel her heart starting to melt infinitesimally.

“In the short term, it wouldn’t. But I thought you would find someone whose life is more like yours. Who you could be with and stay with your family, and your students.”

“Henry, yes, I love my family, and I love teaching, but none of that would change if I didn’t live here. There’s video chats, and phone calls, and airplanes.” Whose side was she on? Lucy asked herself. She was supposed to be angry, not explaining how they could be together.

“Dany, said all of that and more. She called me stupid, and she hit me.” He gave a short laugh at the memory.

“Well, you deserve it.” Lucy replied, a small smile cracking the icy mask of her face. That small crack gave Henry’s spirit the lift he needed.

“Lucy. I love you. Please can you give me another chance? I can promise to love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything else.”

“Are you going to talk to me? Or are you going to make decisions that affect both of us?”

“We’ll talk. I’ll never leave you out of any decision making process that would affect both of us,” he promised. “But you’d take me back?” He asked, hope shining across his face.

In response she opened her arms, leaned into him, and sighed. He wrapped his arms around her in a lovingly crushing embrace that Lucy felt gluing the pieces of her broken heart back together. She pulled away slightly to look up at his face. He brought his hands up to cup her face and brought his lips down to hers. God he had missed her. Her lips were warm and welcoming, it was like coming home. He felt he could stand there forever, just drinking her in. When he pulled away, to rest his forehead against hers, they were both breathing heavily. He lowered his head to kiss her again, when she put her finger to his lips.

“Don’t think this means all is forgiven. You’re on probation.”

“Of course.” He agreed, trying to kiss her again and she evaded.

“You need to answer a question for me.” She demanded very seriously.

“Anything.” He replied getting worried.

“Did you sleep with that actress you were dating?”

Henry’s relief was so complete he released the breath he’d been holding on a laugh.

“That wasn’t real. That was set-up by our respective publicists. We spent maybe three days together, nothing more than holding hands for the paparazzi. She needed some good press, and we thought it would do me some good to be in the papers as well.”

“I was so hurt when I saw those pictures. I was trying to avoid any sort of entertainment news, but it’s everywhere. I felt like I didn’t really mean anything to you, that you could jump into a new relationship so quickly.”

“I’m sorry it hurt you. If it makes you feel better, I was hurting on the inside just as much. I’ve missed you terribly.” This time when he leaned down for a kiss, she met him halfway, running her hands up his chest to loop around his neck and bring him closer. He lowered his hands to her hips, tugging her closer to fit against him. Henry broke free from the kiss, only to begin raining kisses along Lucy’s jaw and neck. Her head lolled back on a moan.

There was a brief knock on the door, before it swung open. Emma entered. Lucy and Henry jumped apart like guilty teenagers. Lucy blushed adorably. “I take it this means you’re taking him back?” Emma asked sardonically looking from one to the other then back again. “I should be upset that my date is making out with somebody else, but I think I’ll get over it. Are you going to come chaperone this event, miss class adviser?”

“Oh god! What are the kids going to think?” Lucy asked covering her face with her hands.

“Well, I’ll tell you, you’re definitely the talk of dinner. It’s almost time for our table to be served, if you want to eat.”   

“We really should get out there.” Lucy said starting for the door, when Emma stopped her.

“You’re going to want to put yourself back together. You’ve been in here for almost 20 minutes. You can’t go out there looking rumpled. Take a minute. I’ll be outside.” And she exited.

Lucy turned to Henry and laughed. She walked over to him, swiping her thumb across his lips, and coming up with a sample of her lipstick. “You straighten yourself, and think cold thoughts. I’ll put myself to rights in the bathroom.” Lucy gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was smudged, and her hair had come half down from it’s pins. She righted it, and her face before exiting.

“Come on, honey, let’s get going.” She said extending her hand to him.

“You want me to stay?” Henry asked.

“Oh honey, of course you’re staying. First of all because I want you here, but second this is part of dating a teacher; attending events like this. Consider this part of your probation. And by the way, you’re going to dance with me. And if any of my girls ask, you’ll dance with them too. You’ll take as many selfies as the kids want. This is their night. Prepare to be a chaperone.” She laughed, taking his hand and leading him to the ballroom.

Chapter 46             Chapter 48

[lalainajanes]

@thetourguidebarbie and I were complaining about the Polyvore alternatives and I found this truly awful dress on one. Celeb AU fluff was born.

Lookin’ Sharp

She’s exhausted, the consultation she’s walked out of had been a battle, one she’d had to smile through. Caroline’s dealt with difficult people before, had eagerly tackled this latest job. She’d never been one to back down from a challenge but then she’s never met a woman who thought a shapeless shiny mint green caftan was a good look for a Golden Globes after party.

Until today.

She really should have listened to Kat when she’d warned Caroline that socialites were the worst people to style. Caroline had brushed off the words at the time, figuring that her client’s reputation – sweet, agreeable, super committed to using her dad’s money to help ex-cons – would mean she’d be an easy paycheck. She’s mentally listing jewelers who like her, hoping she can find a necklace spectacular enough to distract from the chosen dress’ awfulness. She’s thinking diamonds the size of golf balls might do the trick.

“It’s a lost cause, you know.”

Caroline’s heart lurches when the words ring out, her body tensing. She whirls, dropping the armful of garment bags she’d been lugging out to her car. She hadn’t recognized the voice – she’s never heard Klaus Mikaelson say so many words at once. At least not in real life.

He’s a few paces behind her, hands up and a contrite expression on his distractingly handsome face. “Apologies,” he murmurs.

She relaxes, but not completely. She’s pretty sure Klaus isn’t going to stuff her into a trunk but he’s still a very big deal for a girl trying to make a name for herself in Hollywood. Caroline presses a hand over her chest, takes a deep breath. “You scared me. Do they teach you how to walk like a sneaky ghost when you sign up to play a superhero or something?”

He smiles, “I wasn’t making an effort to be silent. Perhaps you were just preoccupied?”

That’s possible. The fitting she’d just left had not gone well. A client who flat out refused to listen to sense, who appeared to see something vastly different than Caroline did when she looked in a mirror, was proving to be really freaking frustrating.

But she couldn’t exactly tell the client’s boyfriend that, could she?

She pastes on a sunny smile, “Well, award’s season’s just about to go into full swing. I have a lot on my plate. I’m sure you’re very busy too.”

Caroline hopes that’s a subtle enough hint. She’s curious about why he’s followed her out, hadn’t been lying about having an extensive to do list. She’s positive she hadn’t forgotten anything, that the four trips between condo and parking garage haven’t been in vain. She can’t exactly go making demands though, not from a guy whose next movie is projected to have a 100 million dollar opening weekend.

“Not for a few weeks yet,” Klaus says, crouching to gather her scattered things. Caroline hurriedly follows, brushing off the pebbles and dust from the bags he hands her. “I’m just supposed to smile for the cameras and look pretty. Make people forget about the… incident in Las Vegas.”

She chances a glance at him, unsure of how to react to that statement. She’d never have thought he’d make such a direct reference.

Caroline knew there’s no way she’d be able to be blasé if photos of her naked body had been splashed all over the internet. Then again, she’d never play strip poker with total strangers.

It hadn’t quite been a full frontal shot - Klaus had been lucky, and a champagne bottle had been left on an end table - saving the pics from being fully NC-17. Had circumstances been different they might not have even caused a stir. Klaus Mikaelson’s resume had a couple of racy film and TV appearances from before he’d left England on it, not that Caroline had googled him.

Okay, fine. She hadn’t googled him recently. And she definitely hasn’t watched the compilation of all his sex scenes on YouTube since she’d met him in person.

Unfortunately for Klaus (and really unfortunately for his publicists) the timing of the photos of his drunken debauchery leaking couldn’t have come at a worse time.

He’d been voicing a character in an animated feature when they’d come out, a gruff but loveable lone wolf who learned about the power of friendship. That, plus a superhero blockbuster on deck, meant he had to appeal to the broadest audience possible.

The pictures were the opposite of wholesome, damage control was necessary. He’d been volunteering with soup kitchens, had adopted a rescue dog. Had gone public with a relationship, one with a textbook good girl, and had been seen holding hands and getting fro-yo and generally being snuggly.

In public, at least. In private, from what Caroline’s observed, the relationship isn’t the warmest. Klaus has usually been in the background, glued to his phone and making noncommittal grunts when asked for an opinion.

Caroline’s not sure how to address the Vegas incident without putting her foot in her mouth so she decides to go back to his original statement. She straightens, folding the stack of dresses over her arm, “What did you mean about a lost cause?”

He’s edged closer when he stands. She keeps her eyes trained on his face, not on the way the fine weave of his shirt clings to his shoulders. “Just that your work’s not going to end up on any best dressed lists. You’ve tried to steer her towards flattering and age appropriate but she’s remarkably convinced her perspective is the right one. It’s not just clothes, if it’s any consolation. It’s everything.”

Wow. It certainly seemed like there was trouble in paradise. Caroline does her best to be diplomatic, “Personal style is a funny thing, I guess.”

He grins, head tipping to the side, “That’s an impressive non-answer. My publicist would be proud.”

“It’s a gossipy industry. Badmouthing clients is going to lead to fewer opportunities not more.”

His eyes sharpen, “Ah, speaking of opportunities, I’d wondered if you might do me a favor.”

A favor? That seems suspicious. “What kind?”

He laughs softly, “Nothing nefarious, love. I’d merely like a ride.”

“A ride?” she repeats, eyes shifting over to the black SUV she knows belongs to Klaus.

“In your backseat. Covered in a few of the bags you brought with you. Passed the paparazzi that are staked out on this block. They need to think I’ve spent the night, you see. And I’d really rather not.”

This conversation just got weirder and weirder. “Did you… I mean, it’s not any of my business if you guys are fighting but maybe talking it out would be better than fleeing?”

He looks at her as if she’s said something crazy. “We don’t talk. Well, no more than necessary.”

“Sounds like a healthy relationship,” Caroline quips. Her eyes widen and her teeth snap shut in horror. Had she seriously just said that? She’s so freaking fired.

Klaus surprises her though. He laughs again, louder this time, the sound echoing off the concrete walls around them. She’s confused, and frozen, unwilling to say anything that might make things even worse. When he calms he shifts closer, relieving her of some of the bags. “We’re not in a relationship, sweetheart. Not really. It’s a contract. A mutually beneficial agreement. I raise her profile, she makes me look like a fine upstanding citizen. Everybody wins.”

Huh. While Caroline knows those kind of arrangements happen, at least intellectually, she’d never expected to be a party to one. “That sounds…”

“Awkward?” Klaus supplies, “tedious? I can assure you it’s both. We’ll have an amicable breakup in April, pledge to stay friends. I’ll be done with press and can disappear for a bit.”

A thought occurs to Caroline, one that she doesn’t like. “Wait, did you fake adopt a dog too? Because that’s not cool.” She’d seen snaps of him walking the dog, some kind of Labrador mutt, and it’s really freaking cute.

“No, Munch was legally and truly adopted. He’s likely being given too many treats by my assistant as we speak.

Caroline nods sharply, satisfied, and fishes out her keys so she can pop the trunk of her car. “Good. If you were a faking a dog adoption I’d have to assume you’re a garbage person and I would not let you in my backseat.”

“Big fan of dogs, are you?”

“In theory, yes. Not in practice just yet.”

She begins loading up, carefully arranging things for maximum space use. She feels Klaus watching her carefully but she focuses on her task. Now that she knows he’s single the little devil on her shoulder is urging her to flirt. Whispering that the worst thing that would happen is that he wouldn’t reciprocate.

And if he did? Well, Caroline wouldn’t mind seeing him naked again. Would be seriously onboard with touching him while he was naked.

“Perhaps you’d like to meet him? You could come in for a bit once you’ve dropped me off?” he asks.

Caroline rears back, nearly hitting her head on the open trunk.

Klaus makes a soft noise, concerned, and his palm brushes over the back of her head, lowering to settle on her shoulder. “Careful. No need to injure yourself. I’d much rather we have dinner than take a trip to the emergency room.”

Maybe she had hit her head. “Dinner?” she parrots. “Like, together?”

He nods, a smile curling his lips. His thumb strokes her neck, an absent gesture that’s unfairly distracting. “You, me, the dog begging for crumbs. We’re working on it but his manners aren’t the best just yet. If that goes well I hope you’ll agree to do it again sometime.”

Clearly, Caroline hadn’t needed to talk herself out of flirting. Klaus didn’t share her qualms. Unless this was another step in his image rehab. She shifts back until he’s no longer touching her, crossing her arms. “Is this another contract kind of thing? Dating someone who’s not super rich so you seem down to earth?”

Klaus denial is immediate, “No, nothing like that. I’ve just spent an awful lot of time studying your face, wondering at the comments you’ve been holding back. Your face is remarkably easy to read when you’re frustrated.”

Whoops. Caroline makes a note to work on that. Her clients were a self-absorbed group but it’s possibly someone would notice her inner screaming at some point and she couldn’t have that. At least not until she’s more established. “I suppose I could eat,” Caroline says slowly.

Klaus expression warms, his pleasure evident. “Lovely. Just let me program my address into your phone.”

Caroline hands it over willingly, doesn’t shy away from the brush of his fingers against hers, letting her body brush against his more than necessary as she returns to packing up.

Half-assing things isn’t in her nature. If Caroline’s going to flirt (and oh boy is she ever) she’s going to do it right.

[kellykadesperate]

the fake dating au

(which must be actually written properly by me very soon) 

~ robert is this really hard working business man who just isn’t given the break by his boss (aka lawrence white) who just hates him for never following through with a proposal with chrissie and basically dumping her arse 

~ rob’s like a free little bird and basically has no real ties, no home (he rents), no family, and it’s not good for lawrence because he could up and leave any second 

~ and also robert is robert so builds up a great rapport with clients and it only pisses lawrence off further basically 

~ anyways so robert has vic and it’s her wedding day, he goes alone and everyone’s dishing out the whole “when will you settle down love” talk to him (especially diane) and he just isn’t having any of it 

~ then he clocks eyes with the bloke recording the wedding there and it’s all awkward because vic is like pressing for them to talk because the camera guy is adam’s best mate, is gay and well she is dying for her brother to just settle the hell down with someone 

~ aaron is like … Charmed and gets all weirdly smitten by robert in the space of like one night and it’s all really cute and awkward 

~ robert records a message for vic and adam and says something like “hopefully i’ll find an idiot to marry one day too” and aaron is all cute and tries to ask him out for a drink but robert just doesn’t get the subtleties at all and just thinks aaron is banging on about living in yorkshire and travelling down to london for the wedding

~ and then comes the whole throwing the bouquet thing and vic thinks it’s funny to throw it at rob and he catches it, everyone starts laughing and then aaron’s like shoved on his knee and it’s so Awkward and then someone takes a picture of them looking at each other weirdly loved up

~ anyway so a few days later … robert wants a higher position (naturally) but soon realises that he won’t be given one because of his lifestyle and the fact that lawrence can’t guarantee he would stick around for years because it’s not like he needs to support a family, or pay off a mortgage or whatever 

~ he’s like hellllaaaa pissed and then all of a sudden, lawrence is like “fine then, i won’t judge, you can have the raise and the office and a better title”

~  robert is like ??? and then it turns out that they all think that he’s engaged … to wedding video guy all because of vic and her big mouth and the fact that she showed lawrence the picture of them looking like they actually liked each other 

~ it’s all mad but at least robert has the job and then a girl from the office below them ~ let’s say her name’s lola for the lols ~ starts becoming interested in him out of nowhere and he realises it’s because he’s sort of off limits now and that’s somehow dangerous to her and he’s a proper bad boy now 

~ so they start sleeping together, her fully knowing that everyone thinks he’s seeing this bloke who he’s made out is like some hot shot ‘film maker’ and of course everyone just believes him

~ then bang, shit hits the fan because aaron goes and bloody makes himself a hero, he’s suddenly on the news because whilst filming a wedding, a fire broke out and he managed to save a little girl’s life and everyone is like what!a!hero!

~ robert loses his shit completely because everyone starts asking him questions about his brave hero fiancé and he’s just like … noooo oh my gosh noooo

~ vic is all apoplectic and starts saying that she had no idea it would be so public, that it will die down but then lawrence is all like “the owners of harding and ryle are really interested in this, they’ve offered to buy you and aaron dinner whenever you’re free” and robert can’t do anything about it 

~ so he ends up meeting up with aaron and aaron is just the same, sort of hates all the attention and pats on the backs he receives from people around, and he is like so happy to see robert again but he suppresses it as best he can and gives robert the chance to say why he’s rocked up

~ so robert is all like “well uh - a lie sort of got out of hand and now i really need you to come down to london with me and pretend that we’re engaged for just like one dinner and then you can break up with me really epically and you’ll never have to see me again. please?”

~ he offers to pay for everything as well and that’s when aaron gets all sad and annoyed about it because he’s like “mate, keep your money, i was thinking about going down to london anyway, asking vic for your number and seeing if you want a drink so… don’t worry about it”

~ and robert’s all stunned and a little bit flattered by it but ignores that and just thanks aaron for sort of agreeing 

~ so then aaron like fully comes down to london, comes right into the office and robert does the whole snog your face off with aaron in front of everyone to prove how much they love each other and even whisper something like “grab my arse and pull me into the office” and it’s just Insane

~  shows him around his flat, shows him the sofa he’ll have to sleep on because it’s only a one bedroom flat, and it’s all cute and sweet and aaron is like enjoying himself a little too much if he’s honest 

~ robert is robert and gives him this manual to look over and it’s got everything he needs to know about their 'relationship’ and then he leaves for 'work’ (lola rings him - booty call basically) and he goes running, but it gets interrupted when aaron shows up out of the blue and sort of makes a show of rob in the middle of the hotel 

~ aaron’s all like “she’s your girlfriend? why am i even here?” and rob has to tell him to chill the hell out because it’s not a big deal and he needs to stop making out like it is - and aaron hates that he's bloody jealous ??

~ that night rob sort of opens up about what he’s written in the lil manual and it gets all deep because he mentions his dad and his mum and the watch he always regretted pawning after he left home because his dad gave it to him he doesn’t even know why he’s telling aaron but it’s like so easy and he just starts realising how soft aaron is and it’s so fluffy 

~ by the next day aaron is like an official member of robert’s fan club and he knows all about robert’s life, his favourite colour, how he likes his coffee, and literally just everything and he is just fully Ready for this nice little date night dinner they’re having 

~  robert gets a lil awkward because it’s like aaron doesn’t remember what’s happening that night … the whole breaking up thing and he has to remind aaron before they leave 

~ and aaron’s all like “yeah of course” about it as he just can’t stop making heart eyes at robert and then robert’s all like “nice acting there, save it for the table though pls” and aaron has to shrug it off with a laugh when he’s really dying inside because the last thing he wants to do is stop seeing robert 

~ so they have this nice dinner and everyone is like full of compliments for them and how amazing they look together and everyone LOVES aaron, one client even says “you can see how much he thinks of you” to robert about aaron and robert is like flawed because he doesn’t want #feelings over aaron at all

~ like the night keeps going on and on and robert is almost waiting for aaron to start banging on about how robert works too much and that he isn’t committed but it just doesn’t happen, aaron keeps shifting the conversation and then they’re all dancing and aaron feels all tingly when robert holds his waist just … because 

~ and so he plucks up the courage to actually say “you know i don’t mind coming down a few weekends, maybe you don’t need to end this tonight …” and robert gets all pissed like “this is why i should have paid you!” because the last thing he wants right now is to see aaron for any longer 

~ they go back to the table and then robert starts really messing with things like saying “oh aaron by the way i can’t come to your family thing because of work sorry” but aaron is just like all smiles and really not letting robert break it off so easily 

~ so robert has to step it up a gear and pretends that someone’s called aaron and it’s his 'bit on the side’ suddenly everyone is like tut tut maybe this bloke isn’t amazing anymore and robert says something like “i’m sorry but you went against our - commitment to each other, our deal and - if i’m honest, you’re not as nice as i first thought you were”

~ aaron sees through it and like internally just says 'fine’ and starts letting rip, banging on about how he doesn’t give a toss about him, how robert never even tried to understand him just a little because all he cares about is work … robert thinks he’s just acting and then he says something like “to think i was actually fallen in -” and aaron turns so red that he has to just run out of the restaurant because he’s so embarrassed 

~ robert finds him later and tries joking about it all, saying that aaron deserves an oscar for his performance and aaron tries to laugh it off but it’s so clear that he meant what he said

~ rob’s all like “maybe i could buy you a drink before you leave …” but when aaron actually goes to actually accept suddenly lola parks up and robert’s all like “i’ll see ya back at the flat later yeah?" 

~ rob’s with lola and proper trying to get into it but then he’s like … "i need to go, sorry” because he feels so bad ?? because he’s made aaron look like a dick in front of important people and it’s not fair at all

~ when he gets back, aaron is like already packing his things away and when robert tries to explain to him that he’s sorry, aaron’s all cut off and reserved 

~  then the phone rings and it’s diane who is dying to have a word with aaron, robert tries to make an excuse and then aaron actually speaks to her and he’s so soft and warm with her and robert is like Charmed and it takes him by surprise 

~ he’s all like … “listen maybe you were right about … about you know, you coming down a few weekends” and aaron gets this hopeful look in his eyes and promises to sleep on it 

~ robert’s all happy, almost giddy about it and he tells vic that maybe aaron’s actually going to stick around for a lil longer … lawrence overhears and he’s all like - “i’ve checked into this aaron and it’s not pretty, he might be a hero but he wasn’t always like that trust me, if you carry on with him then - there’s the door”

~ and robert is like crushed ??? because he doesn’t know what to do but then he’s robert so he blocks out his feelings and sort of lets aaron know that lawrence knows about his criminal charges and doesn’t want someone from his business with someone like that and he can see how hurt aaron looks

~ but aaron just shakes it off and goes like “well we weren’t really dating so it doesn’t matter, look i’m going now okay?”

~ and then things get all Emotional and robert blocks the door all like “you were always just supposed to go away … don’t make it hard now" and aaron just pushes past him, won’t accept the money and leaves 

~ robert is the definition of a #kicked puppy™ and he goes around acting like one until he has to present this new business venture idea in front of a new client and then he finds that aaron found the watch his dad gave him - the one he pawned when he left home and it’s like the most Sweetest thing anyone has ever done for him and he is just blown away 

~ so he goes up on stage and is just like "i can’t present today … because - because of aaron, i lied about everything” and everyone is so shocked about it and lola is like wtf but he doesn’t even care because he just knows that he’s going to be sacked so he starts collecting all his stuff but lawrence actually stops him!!

~ lawrence is all like “it’ll take a few days to smooth this over … why don’t you go up to yorkshire and sort things out”

~ and robert actually goes because he can’t stop thinking about aaron and he finds out where he leaves and it’s so damn dainty and cute and he doesn’t know what else to say but “thanks for the watch" 

~ and aaron tries telling him to leave him alone because he doesn’t like being messed about but robert’s all like pls just listen but aaron just won't 

~ in comes chas who lets robert know that aaron’s working in the local church that night and that he should go and see him because "he hasn’t stopped banging on about investment banking and it must have something to do with you judging from your suit”

~ so robert is like all awkward, standing behind aaron who is filming this wedding and he won’t leave his side until the reception and he explains himself 

~ cue mushy shit like: “yeah i’m an idiot, and i’m manipulative and i don’t care about anyone’s feelings but my own and i’m - i’m so stupid for letting you go like that. but i miss you, i miss seeing you sleeping on my sofa and - well i don’t want you on my sofa anymore if you know what i mean”

~ and aaron’s all shy suddenly and doesn’t know what to say but, “i really really like ya, so this - i can’t do this i’m sorry” and he knows it doesn’t make sense but robert seems to get it because he says “i wouldn’t hurt you" 

~ aaron doesn’t say anything, just looks away and then robert sighs and says "okay yeah i probably would, more than once if i’m honest, but - but you make me want to be good and - maybe you’ll be the idiot i want to marry one day”

~ that makes aaron look up, eyes all watery and then he just marches towards robert and snogs the lights out of him and robert pulls away and says “i could love you” and then aaron just shrugs like “maybe i already do” and robert is just like stunned completely because someone might love him, someone good might love him and it’s everything he needs to know 

~  and then it finishes and we DIE

🙃🙃🙃

[smartgirlsaremean]

The Question Falls - Chapter 11

Fandom: OUAT

Pairing: Rumbelle (sides of Swanfire, Red Cricket, Sleeping Warrior, and Ariel/Eric)

Rating: T for this chapter, E overall

Summary: Divorce attorney Gold knows better than to fall in love with a client. Really he does.

AO3

Chapter 11 - Gold and Belle run into someone at her art gallery.

Two Weeks Ago

He hated leaving Belle’s apartment so early in the evening, but they both had early starts the next day and one thing they’d proven to each other over the last few weeks was that they could only spend the night together if they had no plans in the morning. Neither of them had quite mastered the art of keeping their hands to themselves.

Gold took a deep breath as he stepped out onto the sidewalk and glanced back up at the high-rise. Belle had been reluctant to let him go, coaxing one “last kiss” after another out of him until she’d finally been distracted by a call from her friend Ariel. She’d glared at him as he ducked out the door, and he knew she would be dreaming up all kinds of devious punishments for him.

Lost as he was in his thoughts, he didn’t see the other person on the sidewalk until she was nearly on top of him, and he jumped back a mile when he realized who it was.

“Darling! How did you know I was back in town?”

“Zelena.” Gold sighed as she wrapped herself around his arm. “I didn’t.”

“Oh, of course you didn’t,” she said slyly. “So you definitely weren’t coming to Gina’s apartment to see me, hm?”

“As a matter of fact, no, I wasn’t.”

Zelena laughed and leaned closer, running one hand up his chest. “You’re right, Gina’s place is far too crowded. We should go…”

“Rum! You forgot your…”

Belle had dashed out of the front door of her building and now stood frozen on the sidewalk, her eyes widening as she took in Zelena Mills clinging to his arm. In her hand she was clutching his mobile, and for a terrifying moment Gold thought she’d arrived at exactly the wrong conclusion.

He should have known better. Only the most idiotic of cheaters would leave one girlfriend’s place in order to meet up with the other just outside the door, and he wasn’t exactly making an effort to hide how uncomfortable he was, what with snarling at the other woman and gripping his cane so hard he feared he’d break it.

“Hello,” Belle said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Zelena Mills, dear.”

“Oh!” Belle’s grin suddenly widened and her eyes gleamed. “ You’re Zelena.” She held out one hand. “I’m Belle. Rum’s told me a lot about you.”

Reluctantly Zelena let go of him and shook Belle’s hand briefly. “I wish I could say the same, dear. He’s never even mentioned your name to me.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t surprise me.” Belle stepped forward and took the hand Zelena had been too slow to reclaim and laced their fingers together. “He’s such a private person, likes to keep intimate details to himself.” She smiled beatifically at him and brought his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “I’m very lucky, I know. He doesn’t bare his…soul to just anyone.”

“You alone, sweetheart,” Gold acknowledged, returning the gesture and pulling her closer.

Zelena looked like she might be sick. “And you two are…involved?”

“At least once a day,” Belle said cheerfully. “Three times on Sundays. I haven’t had my birthday yet but something tells me I should get lots of rest the day before.”

“I…My sister will be worried about me,” Zelena said hastily, her face a sickly shade of green. “I really should go.”

“Well, it was lovely meeting you,” Belle enthused. “Maybe we’ll see you again sometime.”

Without answering Zelena hurried away and Gold turned to his girlfriend with a smirk. “Three times on Sundays? You overestimate me, sweetheart.”

“We’ll see about that,” Belle murmured, sliding her hands around his neck. “My powers are beyond your comprehension.”

“Indeed. You’ve frightened off a woman I’ve been avoiding for years, and you did it without insulting her. You’re incredible.” He bent to kiss her, and when he pulled back she looked determined.

“I think you should come back upstairs,” she said firmly. “Consider it practice for my birthday.”

“What about my birthday?”

“Oh, alright,” she sighed, pulling him along. “We’ll practice twice.”

Now

“Mother, what the hell are you doing here?” Gold sighed.

Relief flooded Belle and left her weak at the knees. The moment the handsome older woman had introduced herself with Rum’s name any number of horrible possibilities had raced through her mind, including a long-lost second wife. With a clearer head Belle could see that while she was still beautiful, Fiona - Mrs. Gold - was about twenty years his senior (not that that precluded a romantic entanglement, of course) and had his dark eyes and high, sharp cheekbones.

“I had the most alarming call from Zelena Mills. She claimed that you had thrown her over and taken up with a woman young enough to be your daughter.” His mother’s eyes swept over her and she sneered. “I can see she was not exaggerating.”

“Considering that I once had an affair with Zelena’s mother, she has a lot of room to talk,” Gold said dryly. “Putting that aside, it was impossible for me to throw her over because I was never involved with her in the first place.”

“Wait...this is about Zelena?” Belle crossed her arms. “She saw Rum with another woman and called his mother?”

“I would appreciate the opportunity to speak to my son in private,” Fiona said coldly. “Do run along, little one.”

Belle bristled and looked at Rum, who rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand. “Sweetheart, you did promise Jefferson you would talk to him later. I’ll be along in a minute. This won’t take long.”

Narrowing her eyes, she leaned up and kissed him slowly and thoroughly, reveling in his little sigh against her mouth. She pulled away and met Fiona’s frosty gaze again with a wide smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Fiona,” she said sweetly. “Enjoy the rest of the show.” She left mother and son alone together, but as soon as she’d re-entered the gallery she allowed her smile to slip away and covered her face with her hands, taking a deep breath.

God, this was the very last thing she needed.

“She certainly is a sweet young thing.”

Gold sighed and turned back to his mother, his shoulders tensing.

“All that dark hair and fair skin...pretty eyes...fire and spark. She reminds me of someone.” Fiona pressed one finger to her lips and appeared to think deeply. “Ah! Milah, of course. And Cora, certainly, though she is younger than that particular mistake.”

“Belle is nothing like either of them,” Gold said coldly. “She’s their superior in every respect.”

“Heavens, then, Roderick, what on earth is she doing with you?” Fiona laughed. “If those two harpies didn’t find you worth their time, what does Belle see in you?”

“What are you doing here?” Gold asked again, attempting to ignore the twinge in his chest.

“I am trying to keep you from making another mistake.” Fiona stepped forward and put her hand to his cheek. “I’ve looked into her, you know, she’s quite impressive. Intelligent, entrepreneurial, independent. She even convinced Gaston Lefleur to marry her, and that family is as proud as they come. Of course, that didn’t last very long, did it? Poor little Gaston couldn’t keep up with her. Strong women like Belle need strong men to keep up with them, and as much as I love you, Roddy darling, you could never be the man she needs.”

“Your concern for her is touching. And odd, considering that you only just met her.”

“I am concerned for you. You’ve been with women like Belle before, and they’ve only hurt you. Zelena...she’s just the sort of young woman who would never abandon you or break your heart.”

“No, she’d merely suck the lifeblood out of me and leave me a dry, useless husk,” Gold sighed. “Mother, did you really come all the way from Boston to try to make me break up with Belle for Zelena’s sake?”

“Of course not. I came for Neal’s wedding.”

“Neal’s…” His brain scrambled to process this new information. “Did...how…”

“The boy invited me, Rum. I am his grandmother, after all, and I should be there to help him celebrate such a happy occasion.” She sniffed. “Though how you could let him entangle himself with that uncouth little stray…”

“Oddly enough, I didn’t  allow  him to see Emma at all. Neal’s romantic life has always been his own business, and I respect his choices.”

“We all make our own mistakes.”

“We do, and certainly I’ve made my share. And yet, of the two of us, I’m the one whose child can stand to live in the same city with him, and I’m the one with an open invitation to my son’s home.” He smirked when her mouth opened and closed. “What? You weren’t hoping to stay with me, were you? That is most definitely  not  happening.”

“Why is that, exactly? Planning to have your little girlfriend for a sleepover?”

Gold grinned, sharp and gleaming. “We don’t do much sleeping, to be honest.”

Fiona shuddered and pressed one hand to her forehead. “Roddy, please.”

“Even if I weren’t, you’ve got money enough for the best hotel in the city. I’d never dream of allowing you to slum it in my apartment.” Gold stepped toward the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a beautiful woman to entertain who is, as you’ve pointed out, far too good for me. I’m unwilling to let her think I’m neglecting her. Enjoy the rest of the show. I’ll see you this weekend.”

He found Belle staring at a painting entitled The Evil Queen. Stepping up behind her, he slid one arm around her waist and smiled when she started and then melted into his embrace.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m sorry about...well. That.”

Belle nodded. “It’s not all bad, you know, Heller’s stuff. Some of it is...evocative. Challenging.”

Her change of subject worried him a little, but he followed her lead. “Challenging?”

“We’re used to seeing evil in a certain light,” Belle said, “and we often think of the queen from Snow White when we hear of an evil queen.” She tilted her head and studied the painting. “That woman was vain and heartless and completely unsympathetic, but there’s a depth of sadness in this woman. See the hollow look in her eyes? As if there’s a void in her she can’t fill. And she’s wearing white, which doesn’t fit with conventional depictions of evil.”

“Perhaps she wasn’t always evil,” Gold suggested. “Perhaps circumstances changed her.”

“Perhaps.” Belle’s voice was soft and pensive, and Gold looked down at her to find that her eyes were shadowed and serious.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Are you alright?”

“I…” she looked up at him, her eyes searching his, and she smiled. “Yeah. I’m just tired. I’m ready to go if you are.”

“You don’t have to stay to the end?”

“No, Charlotte can take it from here.”

“Alright.” He helped her shrug into her coat and escorted her outside. “Are you hungry? We can…”

“Actually, I think...I think I’m just gonna go home.”

Disappointment rushed through him, followed by a pang of anxiety. “Oh. Alright.”

Belle squeezed his arm and smiled slightly. “Don’t look like that. I’ll see you tomorrow or Wednesday. I just...need a night to think, okay? And you...well, you’re very distracting.”

He nodded and helped her flag down a cab, kissing her tenderly before helping her into the cab and waving her off. As he made his own way home, he tried not to worry, but it was difficult. Whatever he’d done to upset her, he hoped she’d give him a chance to fix it before she gave up on him completely.

[lastbluetardis]

Met Their Match 2/2

This was a collaboration between me and @dimensionhoppingrose, and was inspired by this post by @tinyconfusion.

Ten x Rose AU

At the insistence of his sister, James Noble stops by Rose Tyler’s shop, but what he doesn’t know is that Rose runs a matchmaking business. While Rose tries to match him with a perfect partner, James starts to realize he’s falling for the woman who is trying to set him up on a date with other women.

Part 1 | AO3

She felt like someone had knocked all the wind out of her when she saw he had agreed to a second date.

…Oh.

The world seemed to spin for a moment as Rose stared blankly at the email, blinking back tears. This was supposed to be a good thing. A second date was brilliant, right? It meant he had finally found a match.

And it wasn’t her.

Rose didn’t even bother emailing either of them back; they could arrange another date without her help. She just closed her laptop and threw it aside before she curled around a throw pillow and buried her face in the fabric.

So stupid. She never should have gotten her hopes up. When she’d first started her business, she swore she would never let her personal feelings get in the way of making a match, and above all, she swore she would never ever fall for a client. Look how well that worked…

Across town, James sighed and tossed his phone onto the couch. He did it. He finally agreed to go on a second date with one of Rose’s matches.

He had genuinely liked Reinette. She was smart and funny and utterly gorgeous. She loved to travel, just like he did, and they had spent most of their date swapping stories about the various countries they’d each been to, and of the places they still wanted to see.

She had been utterly captivating, and James couldn’t, in good conscience, reply to the Rate Your Date email by saying the date didn’t go well. Because it did. Better than any of the others.

No matter. A second date would be good for Rose’s business, right? She could finally rest easy knowing she had matched him with someone he had clicked with. And even as James grabbed his phone to email Reinette, asking her on a second date, he tried ignore the tight knot that was lodged in his stomach.

Rose was taken, he told himself firmly. Might as well get over it. No use in pining over someone I can’t have. Might as well see if I can be happy with someone like Reinette.

oOoOo

Rose probably shouldn’t have been surprised when Jack called. He, like Rose, had assumed James’ date wouldn’t go well, because none of them had, and he wanted to find out what Rose planned on doing now.

It was tempting to ignore the call, but that was rude. Rose forced herself to pick up, letting out a shuddering breath. “Yeah?”

Jack was quiet for a moment. “What’s wrong?” he asked finally, and Rose made a small noise that was somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

“His date went great. They’re going out again. He sounds really happy.” Really, how could she have been stupid enough to get her hopes up? Of course Reinette and James were perfect for each other. How could they not be.

Jack was quiet for another moment. “Guess it’s time for me to kick his ass.”

“Jack, no.” Rose sighed, scrubbing her eyes. “It’s fine. Really. I’m happy for him. Reinette’s great. I’m sure they’ll be happy together.”

“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, does it? He came to me for a service, he paid for the service, and I gave him that service. He was a client. I did my job.” She had to keep telling herself that. It was the only thing keeping her from utterly breaking.

James was too good for her anyways.

“Want me to stop by?” Jack asked quietly.

Rose sighed. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ve been falling behind with my other clients anyway. I’ve got more matches to arrange.” Besides, she was sure she would be rubbish company at the moment.

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

A lump formed in Rose’s throat, and she barely managed to say, “Thanks, Jack,” before she ended the call.

She really did have loads of matches to arrange, but she wasn’t exactly in a matching mood. Every time she tried to arrange a couple, James and Reinette infiltrated her thoughts, and she found herself wondering what would’ve happened if she had intentionally given James a poor match to ensure he would be free the next time he stepped into her office.

That type of thinking was doing nothing for her frame of mind, and she slammed her laptop closed and instead decided to go for a run.

oOoOo

Reinette was wonderful. James couldn’t deny that. She was smart, and funny, and very pretty, and they had a lot in common. Out of everyone Rose had matched him with, she was by far the best. He felt as though he could talk with Reinette for hours, and that was good, right?

Though, as their date progressed, he found his mind wandering—more than once—to a different blonde. One who wouldn’t have minded a date to a chippie—when James suggested that as a location for their second date, Reinette had come back with a different option: dinner at a higher-end restaurant that overlooked the Thames.

As Reinette spoke of the countries she had traveled to, James wondered if Rose liked to travel, and if she would appreciate his style of travel—hop on a bus and disembark wherever it stopped—or Reinette’s style of having everything perfectly planned out months in advance.

As Reinette regaled him with tales of her days from university, and how she’d always loved attending the theater performances put on by the students, James couldn’t help but think back to the way Rose’s eyes lit up when she spoke of being involved in the performing arts department, designing costumes and sets and props.

James sighed quietly when he realized he’d been spending most of their dating thinking of another woman. He felt terribly guilty about that. He wanted to like Reinette. He just… couldn’t force himself to.

And really, that was a horrible attitude. If he had to force himself to like someone, it was never going to work. He had been on the receiving end of that, when his previous girlfriend stayed with him for months, despite the fact she had fallen out of love with him. He would never wish that upon anyone.

“But listen to me, going on and on,” Reinette said, snapping James out of his stupor. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you do for fun?”

James stuttered for a minute, taking a sip of his wine to cover himself. He had kind of been hoping to just spend the entire dinner zoned out. Reinette liked to talk. Okay, so did he, but he at least tried to make it a conversation rather than a CV of his achievements. “Ah, well… I like video games. Computer games, especially.”

He was surprised—and a little offended—when Reinette laughed. “Isn’t that a little juvenile?”

Rose likes computer games. He shoved that thought down. “They’re what I like,” he said, a bit hotly.

“I would have thought you’d have more interesting hobbies, is all,” Reinette said, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all that she was mocking something he enjoyed. James bristled a bit, looking down at his plate.

Rose wouldn’t have laughed even if she didn’t understand it.

“Then what do you like to do?” James asked stiffly.

Reinette cocked an eyebrow as she said, “Weren’t you listening to me at all earlier?”

Oops. James floundered for a way to save face, but thankfully she beat him to it.

“Do you even want to be on this date?” she demanded, setting down her fork.

James grimaced and scrubbed his hand through his hair.

“I thought I did,” he said truthfully. And he really did. He thought if he just tried hard enough, maybe he could make himself forget about Rose and eventually fall for someone else. He thought that, given time, he might be able to click with Reinette as he had done with Rose.

“I suppose this is it then,” Reinette stated, and she pushed herself up from the table and walked out of the restaurant.

James’ cheeks burned as he felt the eyes of nearby patrons on him, looking at him sympathetically. He grabbed his wallet and tossed a few notes onto the table, more than enough to cover their drinks and appetizers, before he, too, stalked out of the restaurant.

He wondered how on earth he’d fallen so hard and so fast for Rose Tyler, and he wondered if she might possibly feel something for him? There was no denying they’d hit it off during that lunch, and they spoke so easily to each other whenever he stopped by her office. But was that just her being a good businesswoman, or was there more behind her teasing grins and easy conversations?

oOoOo

Rose had tried not to think too much about James being on a second date, but over the course of the weekend, she found herself wondering if it went well, and if James and Reinette were going on a third date together.

She should be happy for him. She should be happy for herself, too, that she’d managed to find a suitable match for one of her pickiest clients.

So Rose had been understandably surprised when she walked into the office the next morning to find an email from Reinette Poisson requesting another match. There was nothing from James, which made Rose wonder if maybe he didn’t know the date hadn’t gone well. Oh, that would break his heart.

And he certainly didn’t deserve that. He’d seemed so excited that he finally hit it off with someone. How was she supposed to call him and tell him that his enthusiasm wasn’t reciprocated?

Rose now felt horribly guilty that she had wished James’ date would fail. What sort of business woman hopes to see her clients fail?

She fired up her computer and was working on getting Reinette matched up with someone else when there was a knock at her office door. She looked up, calling, “Come in?” in a confused voice. She didn’t have any meetings scheduled for the day…

Her heart jumped into her throat when James walked through the door. “Hi,” he said quietly when Rose didn’t say anything. “I just wanted to tell you I’m done. I don’t want to do anymore matches.”

So apparently he did know the date hadn’t gone well. That was something of a relief—at least she wouldn’t have to witness his heart break at the news…

…Wait, what had he just said?

“You’re done?” Rose repeated stupidly.

James nodded. “Yeah. It’s clearly not working out. And that’s no fault of yours. This is all on me. I’m just not… I’m really sorry I wasted your time. Thank you, though, Rose.”

He turned to leave, looking so dejected.

“Wait!” Rose burst out, her mind racing as she quickly typed a few things. “Wait, let me just… one more match, okay?”

“No, really, I don’t think that’s a great idea,” James insisted.

“Just one. On the house, even.”

James narrowed his eyes at Rose. She’d never been this pushy before, and she was frantically typing on her keyboard. What are you up to?

“Oh, all right.” James sighed and walked around her desk to look at her computer. His eyebrows shot way up when he saw Rose had put together a quick profile of… herself. “What…?”

“Go on a date with me?” Rose asked quietly. And after one heart pounding moment, James’ lips split into a wide grin that sent Rose’s heart fluttering.

And then his smile disappeared.

“No, wait, what about Jack?” James asked, willing away the excitement in his gut. He was all too familiar with being cheated on, and he refused to partake in it, no matter how much he wanted to go on a date with Rose Tyler.

“Oh, we broke up right after I matched you with Reinette,” Rose said, biting her lip shyly. “We decided we make better friends than a couple.”

James blinked at her for a few moments, and Rose exhaled in relief when a bright smile crossed his face once more.

“Then in that case,” he said happily, “I would love to go on a date with you, Rose Tyler. Dinner? When are you free? I’m free most evenings. I could come pick you up after work one day this week?”

Rose giggled happily at his enthusiasm, and the way his gob seemed to take over in his excitement. She leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and said, “I’m free right now.”

“You are?” he asked dubiously. It was nine o’clock in the morning. Surely she had work to do, matches to make, appointments to keep.

“Yep.” James found himself grinning when she popped her ‘p’ like he did. Did she pick that up from him? He liked to think she did. “Perks of being the boss, you know.”

“But it’s not dinnertime,” James argued. Romantic dinners, soft candlelight, gentle jazz music… Wasn’t that what women liked in a date?

“An astute observation,” Rose teased, and James nearly swallowed his tongue when he saw hers peeking out from the corner of her mouth. “Y’know, breakfast dates are just as romantic. If you’re interested?”

James was desperate to wipe that look of uncertainty off her face, and he announced, “Oh, yes! Absolutely! Breakfast it is!”

“Perhaps the seventh time’s the charm?” Rose asked. She shut down her computer before she grabbed her coat and purse.

“Perhaps.” James grinned and took her hand in his as he walked with her to a nearby diner.

As it turns out, the seventh time was indeed the charm. Not only did date number one with Rose Tyler go smoothly, but dates two, three, four, and one hundred and sixty-nine went smashingly too.

And then came date one hundred and seventy.

“Y’know… I only kept paying for the matchmaking so I could see you.”

After over a year of dating, James felt more or less secure in admitting that to Rose, knowing she would never make fun of him for anything he revealed to her. She did, however, seem rather surprised.

She blinked, raising her head to look at him. They’d been lying on the couch together, enjoying a movie, when James had finally decided to confess.

“What? Seriously?” Rose asked in disbelief. “I set you up on five paid dates. That’s a hundred quid, James! Plus the cost of your dates!”

“Money well spent,” James said with a grin, and Rose didn’t know whether to laugh or slap him.

“Oh, my God, you’re such a dork,” she groaned, shaking her head. “Do you at least want your money back?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I consider it an investment. Besides, don’t married couples share assets anyways?”

Rose rolled over to stare at him, gaping. “What?”

Oops. Right. He hadn’t actually asked yet. He had rehearsed his proposal so many times in his head, he’d forgotten he hadn’t done it yet. Well this was going brilliantly.

“Ehm… I mean… that is to say… ehm… marry me?” he asked meekly.

Rose burst out laughing. “Jesus Christ.”

“Ehm, is that a yes?” he asked faintly, feeling as though his heart was about to beat right out of his chest.

“Yes, you muppet!”

Rose launched herself at him, knocking him to his back as she straddled him. James settled his hands on her hips as she pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss. Their mouths moved in a familiar rhythm, a series of nipping and sucking and kissing that felt so brilliant.

“I love you,” she murmured against his lips.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, pulling her closer as he enjoyed the feel of her warm weight in his lap. “Does this mean our photo goes on your successes bulletin board at work?”

“Oh, absolutely. Front and center. Best match I ever made.”

“Well, you did fail with matching me six times,” James tease. “Statistically speaking, you and I were bound to work out.”

He giggled and caught her hand in his before she had a chance to smack his chest. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles before he sat up and dropped his hands to his pockets. He wriggled beneath her for a few seconds, trying not to dislodge her from his lap while he rooted around in his pockets. He crowed triumphantly, and a moment later, his hand reappeared holding a little black box.

“How long have you been carrying that around with you?” Rose asked, her heart hammering in anticipation.

“Ehm… a few weeks?”

Rose smiled fondly at him, then gasped as James flicked open the box to reveal a beautiful platinum ring nestled in the soft velvet. He tugged the ring free and took her left hand in his to slide the ring onto her fingers with shaking hands. Rose admired the gleaming sapphires and diamonds that comprised her ring, before she cradled James’s cheeks in her hands and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips.

“I love you so much, Rose,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

“I love you, too.” Rose rubbed the tip of her nose against his, feeling happier than she ever thought she could be. She’d spent most of her adult life matching couples and finding happiness for other people; she was so relieved that she finally found it for herself. And for James.

oOoOo

They were married fifteen months later.

It was a beautiful ceremony, though if James was honest, he only remembered one part of it. It was the most important part, though—the part where Rose walked down the aisle toward him, just moments away from becoming his wife.

He’d never forget that for as long as he lived.

Nor would he forget their first dance together as husband and wife.

“You know, people keep telling me we’re cute together,” James murmured to Rose as they moved slowly around the dance floor. “Maybe we should get married.”

“Regrettably, I’m spoken for,” Rose teased. James put on a mock hurt look.

“Really? Who is it? I’ll fight ‘em.”

Rose burst out laughing, resting her head on his chest. “Dork,” she murmured fondly.

“Your dork,” James corrected her, brushing his lips across the top of her head.

“Yeah. My dork.”

“Oh, save it for the honeymoon, you too.”

They looked up when they saw Jack dancing towards them with a bloke on his arm and a champagne flute in his hand.

“If you two are quite done, the toasts are about to start,” Jack said. “And yours truly gets the first one.”

James rolled his eyes and dipped down to give his wife another kiss before he took her hand and walked them to their table.

Jack clinked his knife against his glass, garnering everyone’s attention.

“I met Rose five years ago,” Jack said, “when we met on an online gaming chatroom. We hit it off immediately. Which isn’t surprising; everyone who meets Rose can’t help but fall in love with her.”

Jack winked at Rose, and she smiled shyly at him, hiding her red cheeks with her hands.

“Anyways,” Jack continued, “we realized we lived in the same city, we met up, and after a few years, we started dating.”

“You know this is my wedding,” James growled at his friend.

“It’s rude to interrupt a toast,” Jack said sweetly, and Rose giggled at the two of them.

James rolled his eyes, but still scooted his chair closer to Rose so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“However, it wasn’t long before I realized that we just weren’t the right match,” Jack said. “And that was perfectly fine. Because Rose here was destined for someone else, a man much more Noble than myself.”

“Oh, you did not just say that!” Rose groaned.

Jack wiggled his eyebrows at her, looking so pleased with himself. Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head at her friend as he continued his speech.

Truthfully, she stopped paying attention after his horrid pun; she instead leaned back against her husband and took his hand in hers. As she played with his new ring, she spared a thought to her company’s tagline: There’s a match out there for everyone. She pressed a kiss to James’ fingers, happy that the sentiment held true for her. James truly was her perfect match.

[preciousmetals0]

Tesla Stock Price Insanity; Biotech Buyout Madness

Tesla Stock Price Insanity; Biotech Buyout Madness:

Are You Ready to Make A Deal?

We’re staring down the barrel of what could prove to be the most eventful week of the year … and the market is holding its breath. (But don’t hold yours. Seriously, it’s a week. You can’t hold your breath for an entire week!)

What’s so important this week? Central banks and trade war deals, that’s what.

Tomorrow, the U.S. Federal Reserve will begin its two-day policy meeting and decide the near-term fate of U.S. interest rates and monetary policy. After last week’s stellar November jobs report, no one expects any action from the Fed. However, all of Wall Street will look at Federal Reserve Chairman Jerome Powell’s speech for indications of the U.S. economy’s strength.

Expect Powell to indicate a holding pattern for interest rates for the foreseeable future.

Next, we have a policy meeting at the European Central Bank (ECB) on Thursday. New ECB President Christine Lagarde is expected to offer more details on the EU’s outlook, which could be key, as many reports indicate the region is slipping into recession.

The ECB is also not expected to make any big changes this week. But, as with Powell, markets will closely scrutinize Lagarde’s language for insights on the bank’s policy outlook.

Finally, we have the much-anticipated phase 1 trade deal between the U.S. and China. Last week, the infamous “people familiar with the talks” indicated that a deal would be reached before the U.S. implements its next round of tariffs on Chinese goods. Those tariffs are scheduled to go into effect on December 15 — i.e., this Sunday.

The Takeaway: 

OK, so it doesn’t sound all that exciting when I write it out for you. Two central bank reports (where the market isn’t looking for anything at all) and a U.S.-China phase 1 trade deal.

To be honest, the Fed and the ECB only matter if they actually say anything meaningful. Which likely won’t happen.

The trade deal, however, is a big deal. We’ve only been talking about it for the past year … of course it’s a big deal.

Checking in with the Great Stuff Trade War Cycle chart, we find that we are in the “market rallies temporarily on news” phase. This news was last week’s promise that a trade deal would be reached before December 15.

The post-news rally has faded now. The market is essentially flat today as traders wait for more information.

But I have a warning for you that you might not want to hear. You need to be prepared for President Trump to flat-out walk away from a deal this week.

CNBC’s Jim Cramer made an excellent case for this scenario this morning. According to Cramer, investors want to believe in a trade deal because it’s “rational.” It’s good for both sides, so why not do a deal?

Because China has pressed the U.S. for a deal in the media for the past week. Trump is now being publicly pushed and provoked by media coverage of China calling for tariff rollbacks, notes Cramer. This weekend, the country doubled down on the pressure, ordering all state offices to remove foreign computers and software in the next three years.

We all remember what happened the last time Trump was cornered on tariffs by China and the media. He walked away, saying he hadn’t approved any tariff rollbacks.

Trump and the U.S. weren’t dictating the narrative in the past week. And that has to be eating at the U.S. president.

This week, I predict no trade deal … and increased tariffs on $156 billion in remaining Chinese exports. That means a rotation into a market sell-off, according to the Great Stuff Trade War chart. I’ll be happy if I’m wrong, but the situation is what it is.

Good: Tesla to $4,000!

Ridiculous Tesla Inc. (Nasdaq: TSLA) projections have become a “thing” in the past week. On Friday, Morgan Stanley’s Adam Jonas issued a “bull case” target of $500 for TSLA — with a “base case” target of $250 and a “bear case” target of $10. Yes, $10.

But if you thought Jonas’ bull case was over the top, you haven’t seen Catherine Wood’s projections. The Ark Investment Management CEO said that her “bear case” scenario for Tesla was doubling by 2024 — a roughly $700 price target.

In this bear case, Wood says she accounts for Tesla’s market share diving to 6%.

But her “bull case” scenario was a rally to $4,000 per share. In this scenario, Wood sees Tesla holding about 17% market share in the global electric vehicle market.

Now, I’m a bit of a Tesla bull, but $4,000 per share sounds ludicrous … just as ludicrous as Morgan Stanley’s bear projection of $10 per share.

Luckily for us regular bulls, the market largely ignores these extreme bullish and bearish outliers. The last thing Tesla needs right now is more hype.

Better: Running Through the Fire

It looks like PG&E Corp. (NYSE: PCG) might finally be putting the 2017 to 2018 California wildfires behind it.

The company announced today that it has reached a $13.5 billion deal with the victims of those deadly fires, clearing one of the final hurdles for emerging from bankruptcy court. PG&E initially set costs associated with the wildfires at $30 billion.

But, after reaching agreements of $11 billion with insurance claim holders, $1 billion with local governments and $13.5 billion with victims, that total is about $5 billion less than expected.

That said, PG&E isn’t out of the woods yet. The $11 billion settlement with insurance claim holders still needs a judge’s approval.

But that hasn’t dampened investor enthusiasm. PCG shares are up roughly 17% on today’s settlement news.

Best: This Is Biotech!

Last week, I told you about the red-hot biotechnology market and how buyouts and clinical trials were providing a massive boost to the sector. I hope you listened.

Today, we have no fewer than three separate biotech stocks rallying in the triple digits!

Billion-dollar deals are flying all over the biotech sector. So, why are you still holding out?

If you’re unsure of where to start, I’ve got the perfect guy to help you out!

Banyan Hill expert Jeff Yastine has the details on a $450 million biotech company that’s set to soar. And if you act quickly, you can get in on the ground floor … before the Big Pharma firms take notice and snap up this biotech darling.

Click here now for all the details!

Today’s Chart of the Week could also double as an entry for Great Stuff’s Comic Corner. What follows is the actual “Tesla Risk Reward Framework” chart that Morgan Stanley sent out to clients … I kid you not:

Now, I’m not familiar with the “snake and flashlight” technical pattern, but it’s apparently commonplace at Morgan Stanley. Remember, people actually pay for this advice. And here I am giving away better stuff … nay, Great Stuff! … free.

I showed this chart to my cat Kylo, and he was not impressed. He’s more into the laser-pointer indicator lately. He’s also really into catnip legalization. (Shhhhh! Don’t tell him it’s already legal — I’ll never hear the end of it!)

Great Stuff: A Guide to Groan-Worthy Gifts

Anyone spend the weekend roaming the post-Black Friday retail wasteland?

Hah, slackers. I got my Christmas shopping done last month … at least according to my bank statements.

Surprise: It’s Disney+ subscriptions for everybody this year! I was going to spring for Teslas, but baby Yoda sealed the deal. How can you say no to that face?

If you’re still checking names off your gift list, you may be interested in what Banyan Hill’s resident pot stock guru, Anthony Planas, chose to do for his loved ones.

Instead of yet another gift card (but then you can buy what you actually want!), Anthony decided to share the gift of keen investing.

Mooooom! Uncle Anthony’s smoking again — he gave us “stocks” for Christmas!

At the risk of becoming that uncle, Anthony shares the heartwarming story of why he gave his baby niece a dream fund of her own — a custodial investment account to jump-start her dreams, goals and ambitions.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus, and you can read all about it here: “Skip the Mall: The Most Valuable Gift for Any Child.”

Because nothing says Christmas morning like dividend yields. Though, if Anthony’s niece saves up for the next two decades, she might almost have enough to buy Great Stuff’s No. 1 bad gift: a Peloton bike with matching picture windows.

Finally, what holiday gift list would be complete without Anthony’s latest pot market analysis. Watch the video below:

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Finally (finally), don’t forget to like and follow Great Stuff on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram!

Until next time, good trading!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Great Stuff Managing Editor, Banyan Hill Publishing