#and i love that because either 1) she borrows his clothes or 2) they independently purchased matching fits

[rithmeres]

genuinely obsessed with the vol 4 decision to put vash in tight mom jeans & a color gradient hoodie and wolfwood in business casual with sunglasses

[puckinghell]

Acts Of Service | Elias Pettersson

Summary: When people have different love languages, sometimes it’s hard to understand what the other is trying to say. 4 times Elias shows you he loves you, and the 1 time you tell him.  Words: 7.5k (whoops) Note: This concept was very interesting to explore. Also yes, this entire thing was written because of that one picture of Elias in that blue sweater stepping out of the car like a fucking GQ model. 

----

(Some time ago)

“Didn’t you say there’s an apartment free in your building?” Brock asked as soon as you answered the phone, forgoing the “hello”.

“Hello, Brock, my very good friend, how nice to talk to you! How are you doing?” you deadpanned.

At least he had the decency to sound ashamed. “Ah, yes, hi. Sorry. I’m just in a hurry and it’s important.”

You frowned. “Why? Are you looking to move?”

“No.” Brock laughed. “Stetch would kill me. No, it’s about the rookie. Petey? I told you about him. Swedish, quiet, best fucking hands in the league.”

Yes. Brock had told you about the rookie, although you still thought it dumb to call him that. Brock was basically still a rookie himself.

“What does that have to do with my apartment building?”

“He said no to having a billet family but everyone on the team thinks it’d be good for him to have someone to kinda look out for him a bit. He’s never been to Canada before this, you know, and he’s never lived on his own either. His English isn’t that great and everything is new for him. And since you’re such a caring, loving person, we thought…”

“You thought I could babysit him?” you finished for Brock.

“It’s not babysitting. Just, being friendly if he needs anything. Obviously we’re there for that too, but it’d be nice to have you so close by.”

Close by would be an understatement: the free apartment was across the hall from yours.

You weren’t sure if this sounded like something that you would necessarily want to do, but you did feel a bit sorry for Elias: you’d met him at a team thing earlier that week and he’d looked completely lost in the midst of all the Canadian hockey slang that you barely managed to follow, even after having been friends with Brock for years. He mostly kept to Eagle, spoke in Swedish, and his eyes flickered nervously across the room whenever anyone else approached him.

“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll talk to my landlord. But you owe me, Blondie.”

Brock was happy enough that he didn’t even call you out on the nickname.

1. 

“Have I told you lately how much of a lifesaver you are?” You lean across your desk, resting your chin in your hands. Elias looks mildly amused as he hands you the papers.

“Nearly every day,” he says, “but then I save your life every day, so that seems fair.”

You grab the papers from his hands.

“You’re a lifesaver and the love of my life, Petey.”

You think back to when Elias just moved into your apartment building, only because Brock thought he needed someone to look after him. You could laugh, now, thinking about how wrong he’d been.

Elias is the most self-sufficient, independent person you know. You don’t think he’s ever needed anything from anyone. Like in hockey, where he can make the play and score the goal all at the same time, Elias has his life together.

Unlike you.

Despite the fact that Elias hadn’t needed much help from you, you had become very fast friends. His quick witted sarcasm always managed to make you laugh and he liked how upfront and honest you were with him about things. It was easy, too, to spend time together. With him living just across the hall, you found yourself wandering to his apartment whenever you were bored, and he showed up at yours often when he didn’t feel like cooking.

Just because he could cook, didn’t mean he always wanted to.

And ever since the two of you had become friends, Elias had your back. When you needed someone to water your plants, or feed your cat Puck – Brock had named him – or, apparently, bring you the important work papers that you forgot at home after having worked on them all weekend.

You groan as you flick through the papers. “I thought I was going to die. Without these I can’t finish my presentation.”

“When is it?” Elias asks, eyes searching behind you. You know he’s looking out for your asshole of a boss, who will use any excuse to yell at you, especially the unannounced visit of a friend.

“Tomorrow. I got all the content in these papers here, but I still have to make the PowerPoint.” You sigh. “It’s still so much work.”

“Oh.” Elias’ face lights up. “Almost forgot. Brought you this.” Triumphantly, he reaches down and comes up with a paper bag from your favorite coffee shop.

The words fall off your lips in a gasp. “You didn’t!”

“Strawberry scone and a large caramel macchiato with soy milk.” Elias grins. “I also got you a chocolate chip cookie for later.”

“Marry me,” you proclaim, as you make grabby hands for the bag. The coffee is precisely what you need and your mouth is already watering at the idea of the food.

“Get me a ring, then,” Elias jokes, as he starts getting up from the chair.

Something tightens in your stomach, so you quickly take a bite of the scone: anything to push those feelings to the side. It works a little, and at the very least it tastes amazing.

You’re just friends. If you were gonna be anything more, Elias would’ve made a move already. Or, if you’d been brave enough, you would’ve: but he’s never said anything to make you think he’s interested and quite frankly, you’re not that brave.

“Thank you,” you say, mouth still full of scone, and Elias wrinkles his nose at that as you knew he would.

“I’m going to the store now,” he says, “anything you want me to pick up for you?”

“Wine?” you ask, hopeful. “I’m gonna need it after today.”

Elias rolls his eyes at you, but when you come home after the most grueling day at work there’s a bottle of rosé sitting in your fridge, next to a bag full of your favorite Thai take out food.

Love you, you quickly text Elias, even though you know he can’t answer because the game is about to start.

You take some time showering and putting on comfortable clothes, then situate yourself on the couch and put on the game. It has already begun, and you know it’s not gonna be an easy one, against the Bruins.

It’s not until the first intermission, when you check your phone, that you see there’s a reply from Elias waiting for you.

It’s just a simple heart emoji, but it makes your heart race anyway.

2.

“This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I can barely hear you.” Fiona’s tone is disapproving, and you pull your mouth away from where you’d pressed it into your arm to scream.

“I said, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!”

She laughs. “It’s just a car, Y/N.”

You don’t necessarily like your job, but Fiona is one of the reasons you’re still putting up with it. She’s not just a colleague anymore, slowly turning into a friend and someone you confide into about everything – even about your Elias problem – and you love her, but sometimes you could murder her.

“It’s not just a car,” you bite. “It’s my only mode of transportation, because you know how much I hate taking the bus, and it’s broken, and I probably can’t even afford to get it fixed. And now I have to walk home, and it’s raining.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Fiona admits.

After a long day at work, you couldn’t wait to get home and watch The Bachelor until you fell asleep, your cat in your lap. However, when you finally got away from the office and stepped into your car, it was clear the universe had different plans.

It didn’t start.

After trying approximately 15 times, you’d screamed, nearly cried, hit the steering wheel, and then went back inside to scream and cry a little more at Fiona’s desk.

“I just wanna go home, Fi.” You know you sound miserable, but you honestly can’t help it. Taking the bus always heightens your anxiety, so you avoid it at all costs: however, walking home in this pouring rain doesn’t seem like much fun either.

And Fiona can’t even bring you home, because she takes the bus to work like a normal person.

“There’s a simple solution to this, you know,” Fiona says. She starts to organize the papers on her desk, a clear sign that she’s getting ready to leave the office as well. “You could just call…”

“No,” you interrupt her, knowing exactly where she’s going with this. “I can’t call Elias. He’s got the boys over today and I won’t interrupt his fun with my misery. Besides, he does too much for me already, I can’t ask him for more.”

“Right,” Fiona drawls, “but when he hears that you were stuck here and didn’t call him…”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but she doesn’t have to.

Elias would be furious.

One time, you were on a night out when you got a little too tipsy and didn’t realize your phone had died. By the time you noticed, all your friends had already jumped in their respective Ubers, but you had been too busy chatting with some girl you didn’t know to order yours, and now you couldn’t because you didn’t have a phone. 

You knew you could’ve asked any random person to order you an Uber, or at least to borrow their phone to call Elias – it’s not like you didn’t know his number by heart – but that felt like too much. It had been 3 am and he had a game the next day, so you decided to walk home.

When he found out the next day, he got so mad he didn’t talk to you for 4 days. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and just sat on his couch pouting at him until he spoke to you again.

“Something could’ve happened,” he’d muttered, explaining to you why he got mad in the first place. “And I’m your best friend, and you should know me enough to know that I would much rather you wake me up than you walk home alone.”

You did know that, and he was your best friend, and you’d promised him you’d never do it again.

It’s only that promise, that causes you to reach for your phone.

“I’m texting him, but if he’s busy, I’m walking,” you tell Fiona stubbornly. She ignores you, which is probably fair enough.

Hey, you busy right now? Are the guys still there?

The answer comes right away. What’s wrong?

Damn, he knows you too well. You quickly explain the situation and before you know it, Elias is on his way to come get you, and Fiona is bidding you goodbye after you promise her you’re fine on your own for the twenty minutes it’s gonna take Elias to get there.

You’re just checking your email on your phone when you hear the bell at the front door.

“I’m coming!” you call out. You hurry to grab your bags and then walk quickly to the door, where Elias is standing with his car keys between his fingers.

“So Bella finally gave up, huh?” he asks, a sly little smirk on his face. He always teases you with the fact that you named your car.

“Yes, and I know you told me,” you sigh, and it’s clear that he immediately – and correctly – reads your mood.

Without a word, he opens his arms, and you gratefully fall into them, hugging him tightly to your body. There’s very little in the world that brings you more comfort than one of Elias’ hugs: although being on Elias’ couch wearing one of his old hoodies watching some stupid reality show might come close.

“Let’s go home,” Elias finally mumbles, and he holds out an umbrella when he lets you go.

It’s raining really hard, and you know he has to park his car a little bit away because there’s no parking in front of your office, so you take it.

“You could’ve just called, I would’ve ran out,” you tell him sternly, but he shrugs.

“But then how would you have gotten the umbrella?”

You would tell him you’re not made of sugar, but as soon as you step outside the rain clatters loudly against the fabric of the umbrella and you realize you would’ve really, really hated to not have it, so you stay quiet.

Instead, you walk after him as he runs to his car and opens the passenger door for you. It’s still running, and the heater is on: only then do you realize you’re quite cold.

This morning they said it would be nice outside, so you didn’t bother to take a coat.

It’s quiet in the car for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, and combined with the soft music that is playing on the radio it lulls you into a false sense of comfort.

Until you realize something.

“Oh God,” you groan, “I’m gonna have to call someone to tow Bella to a mechanic.”

Elias raises an eyebrow. “Well, you could just leave her there.”

Normally you would’ve at least playfully punched his arm for the sarcastic tone in his voice, but right now you’re too busy freaking out.

“And how am I gonna get to work tomorrow? Don’t you dare say you’ll bring me cause I know you’ve got morning practice and it’s super out of your way. Fuck, why did this have to happen to me?”

You let your head fall against the window. The glass is cold against your cheek and it’s enough to stop the spiraling in your brain at least for a second.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice has lost all sarcastic edge. It’s gentle now, and he’s speaking low as if not to startle you. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll call the tow truck and the mechanic and get your car fixed. And Brock lives close enough that he can take me to and from practice and you can just take my car to work.”

It’s… a reasonable solution, but once again something that Elias has to go out of his way for, even just a little bit, and you feel something warm bloom inside your chest.

“Okay,” you answer, the stress already ebbing away. “Thank you. You’re the best.” You reach out and place your hand on his knee, squeezing slightly. “Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Elias mumbles something incoherent. You think you see some color on his cheeks, but surely that’s just because the heater is on, because there’s no way he’s blushing over something you said.

You turn off the heater, and let your thoughts wander as Elias drives you home.

3. 

Traveling is fun, but traveling for work is instantly a lot less fun. You really don’t know how Elias does it.

You’re feeling run down and jetlagged when you come back from your work trip, which is ridiculous cause you flew to Toronto, not to freaking Europe. But it’s late at night and the three days you were away were so busy you can barely remember sleeping at all.

Fiona slept on the plane, so she looks a little more alive than you when your feet touch the ground at Vancouver airport.

“Is Elias coming to pick you up?” Fiona asks, as you’re both walking through the gate.

You shake your head. “I’m sure he would’ve insisted if he could, but he’s in California right now. They played the Kings tonight and they’re playing the Sharks the day after tomorrow.”

“I wish I was in California,” Fiona says wistfully. It’s cold and wet in Vancouver and it wasn’t much better in Toronto. The tiredness doesn’t help: it feels as if the cold of the night is slowly creeping into your bones.

“Come on then, I’ll drop you off.” You thank Fiona and follow her to her car. Normally you wouldn’t have minded taking an Uber, but right now you just wanna get to bed as soon as possible.

“If I fall asleep, just let me sleep here,” you mumble, resting your head back against the head rest. Fiona laughs as she starts the car.

“No way, you’ll freeze to death.” She squints outside. “Do you think it’s gonna rain?”

“It always rains,” you say, despite the fact that it’s not raining at the moment.

Fiona turns onto the highway. “So, are you finally gonna put up that bookcase you bought?”

Involuntarily, you groan. “Stop, don’t remind me.”

Your old bookcase is big and ugly, and it has been a thorn in your eye ever since you moved in. The person that lived there before you left it there, and you only kept it because you couldn’t really afford not to.

Four weeks ago, you finally allowed yourself to buy a new, prettier bookcase.

But…

“It’s just so big,” you whine, repeating the excuses you’ve been giving Elias every single time he raises a judgmental eyebrow at the old bookcase still standing in your living room. “It’s gonna take forever to take it apart and then it’s gonna take me even longer to somehow get it all downstairs and get rid of it.”

“And then you have to build the new one,” Fiona nods understandingly. “And you’re not good with furniture.”

“Hey,” you protest, but it’s weak. You’re not good with furniture, which was proven when you tried to help Fiona move in and didn’t manage to help her put together anything at all. Instead she ended up with a table with three legs. 

You even tried to read the manual, but it’s just not your forte.

“I’ll do it,” you add, “I promise you I will. Just, maybe not this weekend…”

Fiona laughs, but she doesn’t call you out on the fact that it probably won’t happen during the week either.

Finally, you arrive at your building. You can’t wait to go to bed, and you thank Fiona multiple times before dragging your luggage upstairs. When you open the door to your apartment, Puck comes running up to you, meowing and weaving between your legs.

“Don’t be dramatic,” you tell the cat sternly. “Petey sent me many pictures of you sleeping in his lap and I know he feeds you chicken when he thinks I won’t notice, so you got spoiled this week.”

You lovingly scratch Puck’s ears, before flicking on the light and kicking the door behind you in the lock.

Instantly, you notice the difference.

Your apartment isn’t big: real estate in Vancouver isn’t cheap and your job isn’t great. You got this place mostly for the location, and you like the big windows in the apartment and how it manages to get in light even during the darkest of winter days.

One corner of your living room, however, was always darker than the others. The bookcase took away the entirety of the white wall, and it created a dim lit, sad looking corner.

Now, it’s open and bright, as your new bookcase stands proudly in its place.

There’s only one person who would’ve done that.

The phone rings a few times, but you know the Kings game ended a while ago so you let it ring. After a while, Elias picks up.

“Sorry for the background noise,” is the first thing he says. “We’re on the plane. Taking off in a few minutes, probably.”

In the background, you hear some yelling. Probably Jake.

“You put up my bookcase,” you blurt out, ignoring Elias’ statement. “You put it up and all the books are in it and the other one is gone.”

Elias sounds a little smug when he answers. “Well, it’s not like you were ever gonna do it.”

“Thank you.” To your own horror, you can feel tears burning behind your eyes. “Elias, seriously…”

“It’s nothing.” You can hear Elias’ smile even over the phone: you know everyone always makes fun of his deadpan tone when he talks to media but with his friends, his voice always betrays everything he’s feeling. “I know you were worried about it, and I know how much you hated that old one.” He laughs. “I get why now, by the way. It took me and Brock like four hours to get that thing out.”

“Brock helped too?”

“He did.” Elias is silent for a while, but in the background you hear another voice. “Brock says to tell you that I forced him. But that’s not entirely true.”

Entirely. You know Elias definitely did force him.

“Tell him thank you too.”

“He says you’re welcome,” Elias says, quick enough that it makes you think Brock didn’t say that at all. “We’re about to take off so I have to put my phone on airplane mode. But call me tomorrow okay? I wanna hear about your work trip.”

“Okay.” For some reason, you can still feel the lump in your throat. You didn’t notice it momentarily, while you were focused on Elias’ and Brock’s bickering, but now it’s back, and with a vengeance.

Fuck. You just…

“I miss you.” You blurt it out before you can stop yourself and if anyone would ask, you would blame the exhaustion and the fact that Elias can’t see how wet your eyes are over the phone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he answers softly, and his voice is gentle in a way that makes you think he knows about the tears, anyway. “And when I am, we’re gonna take a whole night to eat food and stare at that bookcase, because it needs to be appreciated after the effort I had to put in to build it.”

You laugh before quietly saying goodbye to Elias and hanging up the phone.

In the kitchen, Puck sits in front of the fridge. When you open it there’s a pan with chicken.

For Puck the note next to it says, and you send Elias a picture of Puck with his chicken.

“He spoils you,” you tell your cat. You decide to ignore the fact that he kinda spoils you, too.

4. 

When you open the door to your apartment, you’re met with the smell of garlic.

After yet another shitty day at work, you can already feel the lump in your throat building again. You didn’t even tell him, this time. In fact, you carefully avoided his texts because you knew he’d clock that something was wrong.

Fuck. That’s probably where you went wrong in the first place; usually you never ignored Elias’ texts.

“Hello?” you call out into your own apartment.

There’s soft music playing and there’s light coming from the living room, but the amazing smell that tickles your senses is clearly coming from the kitchen, so that’s where you go.

Elias is standing at your kitchen counter, chopping a carrot.

“Hey,” he greets, smiling your way. “I’m making dinner.”

It’s almost too much, how domestic it looks. And how right: like he belongs there in your space, waiting for you to come home.

Suddenly there’s the overwhelming urge to go towards him, so you do. His arm immediately lifts, creating space for you in the crook of his body, and you slip under his arm easily.

“How did you know?” you mumble into the fabric of his worn Canucks hoodie. It smells like him, a scent that reminds you of home as much as your mother’s signature dish.

“You didn’t answer my texts,” Elias hums. His arm tightens around your body. “So I figured you could use some good food and a bath.” His head motions towards the general direction of the bathroom. “I’m running it as we speak.”

God. You love him.

It hits you, then. You knew you had a crush on him, knew you wanted to kiss him and hold his hand and feel his hands on you. But it’s more than that, now.

It’s the realization that you want to share everything with him. The ups and the downs. The bad nights and the bright mornings. You want him in your kitchen, but more than that, you want it to be his kitchen, too.

Fuck. You’re so royally screwed.

Because he does this, and he does so much for you, but he’s never said anything, anything at all, to indicate that he wants that. Or has even considered it, thought about it.

Maybe it’s never even crossed his mind. Maybe he takes care of you like he would take care of a sister.

“Hey.” Elias’ voice is gentle as it pulls you out of your thoughts, back down to earth. “You’re shaking. Go take a bath, and I’ll finish dinner, and then we’ll watch How I Met Your Mother. I wanted to watch the next episode but I waited for you.” His grin is a little lopsided. “Isn’t that chivalrous of me?”

It is, and normally you would tease him for it, but you can’t really think or speak, so you just nod.

“There’s wine in the fridge, if you want a glass,” Elias says. He holds out a wine glass, already waiting for you on the counter.

And who cares that it’s only a Tuesday: you deserve it, damn it, so you open the fridge to find the wine.

You’re met with more than just that.

“You bought groceries?” you ask, your eyes traveling through your fridge. You hadn’t gone grocery shopping in like a week, and when you left for work this morning the fridge was basically empty. Now it’s so full you wonder how you’re gonna close the door.

“How else was I gonna cook anything? You only had cat food left,” Elias tuts. You’re not surprised to find Puck at Elias’ feet, waiting for him to inevitably slip him some human food.

“Did you get…”

“Your coconut yoghurt? Yes.”

He did, and he got basically all your staples, and nothing you wouldn’t buy yourself.

“Honestly,” you say, as you finally reach for the bottle and pull your head out of the fridge. “I don’t know what to say, Petey. Thank you. I had such a sucky day and now it’s already endlessly better.”

This time you know you’re not imagining the flush on Elias’ cheeks.

“It’s fine,” he says. “You should go take that bath before it goes cold.”

You want to say more: to tell him time and time again how amazing he is, how much he means to you, how thankful you are. But you know once you start, you can’t be trusted to not say the one thing you don’t think he wants to hear.

So you say nothing, and simply go to take your bath.

+1

But you think about it.

You think about it all throughout Christmas, where you don’t see Elias at all. You think about it during NYE, when you get a drunk SnapChat from Elias with his brother, right at midnight.

At least, you figure, he’s not kissing any girls.

You’re not kissing any boys, either. You’re at a NYE party with Fiona and it’s fun, it is, but it’s not the same as it would be if Elias wasn’t all the way in Sweden.

You miss him like a limb, and you know it’s not fair because he rarely gets time to go home to Sweden and he deserves that time with his family, but you can’t say you didn’t wish his time off ended already.

When it finally does, it’s not Elias you see first. Troy is throwing a late New Years party, just to welcome everyone back to Vancouver as they get ready to start the season back up, and when you arrive at his house it’s early enough in the evening that there’s only a handful of people there.

“Y/N!” Brock calls out, opening his arms to give you a big hug as you enter. “Missed you!”

You laugh. “Get off of me, you giant. I’m gonna drop the wine.”

“Not the wine,” Troy says dramatically, tearing it out of your hands. His eyes are sparkling when he thanks and hugs you, and then Brock is ushering you into the living room, where Jake is talking with Quinn.

Or talking at Quinn. To be honest, you never really know when Quinn is paying attention.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaims, much like Brock had. “I’m glad you’re here, we need your input on something.”

“Okay?” you ask, curiosity instantly taking over. Whenever Jake and Brock get together, it promises to be an interesting evening.

“We’re trying to decide Brock’s love language.”

It’s sudden enough that you laugh. “His what?”

“Love language,” Jake explains. “Like, how he shows people he loves them. He says it’s quality time, but I think it could be physical touch. He’s always touching people.”

“Jake is deflecting because his love language is physical touch,” Brock scowls. “I think I know my own love language, Tuna.”

“Hold on.” Unfortunately, you have to press the pause button on their discussion. “What options do we have?”

You’ve got no idea where they got this from, but it doesn’t really matter. You’re always down to share your opinion on stupid stuff with your favorite boys.

“There’s gifts, quality time, physical touch, words of affirmation, and…” Brock pauses, and you can nearly see the wheels in his head turning.

“Acts of service,” Quinn offers, which proves that he was actually paying attention.

“Mine is physical touch,” Jake says determinedly. “When I care about someone, I always wanna be touching them, and when I’m in love with someone that’s like twenty times worse.”

“Poor girl,” Quinn mutters, and the conversation gets paused in order for Jake to put Quinn in a headlock.

“I think yours is quality time, actually,” you tell Brock when Jake is done murdering the rookie. “Your ex was always on her phone during your date nights and I remember it drove you crazy.”

“See,” Brock says proudly. “Quality time baby. If I’m there I’m there.”

“What about yours, Huggy?” Jake asks. “Physical touch would make sense, since you’re called Huggy.”

“I’m not called Huggy,” Quinn deadpans. His face is devoid of any emotion, but you know him well enough to recognize the mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He reminds you of Elias, when he does that. “And if we were going by nicknames your love language would be fishing.”

Everyone cracks up on that, and then the doorbell rings and Bo arrives.

The topic gets put on hold, then, because Bo is instantly talking about Gunnar’s first Christmas and Brock is talking about becoming an uncle again and you feel warm and happy on the couch with your wine, squeezed between Brock and Troy.

Until, a little later, you realize someone is missing.

“Where’s Petey?” you ask Troy. “Isn’t he coming?”

Troy shrugs. “Should do. But you never know with Pete.”

It’s not entirely true: if Elias promises he’ll be there, he will be there. But, to be fair, he usually doesn’t promise that to anyone but you, and you hadn’t asked him to come, this time.

You figured he just would.

“What about Petey’s love language?” Brock asks idly, not knowing he’s opening Pandora’s box for you. “Definitely not words of affirmation, huh.”

Troy laughs.

“Nah, Petey’s an acts of service guy. He’s always doing shit for Y/N.”

You would protest if you trusted your voice not to shake. As it is, you stay quiet and hope the flush on your cheeks gets mistaken for a wine flush, and not an Elias flush.

Brock brightens. “Oh, yeah! Getting her car fixed, making dinner, building her stupid bookshelf, feeding her cat… He is a typical acts of service guy.” He bumps against your shoulder playfully. “I hope you appreciate his showing of love, Y/N. He rarely does that shit for me.”

Troy snorts. “That’s cause he’s not in love with you, Boes.”

“He’s not in love with me either!” you squeak, unable to stay quiet any longer. You know if you don’t derail this trail of thought very soon, it’s gonna end badly for you.

Both Troy and Brock look unimpressed, at that statement.

“Yes, he is,” Brock says slowly, as if explaining something to an unruly child. “He drops whatever he has going on to do small things that make your life easier. That’s literally the same as him screaming I’m in love with you from the highest rooftop in Vancouver.”

“He’s not like you,” Troy continues, a little more gentle. “When people have different love languages, they don’t always understand what the other is trying to say. Your love language is words of affirmation. You’re always telling Petey how amazing he is. But he doesn’t see that as a declaration of love, or whatever. He thinks you tell everyone that they’re amazing.”

You do, to be fair, but not as often as you tell Elias. Because he’s…

Well. Amazing would be an understatement, actually. He’s everything to you.  

Things are starting to make sense, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. Suddenly, you start wondering if there’s more to his acts of service than plain friendship, or him being a good guy.

It’s not like he does stuff like that for all his friends. He helps them out, sure, but he always goes above and beyond for you, usually not even needing to be asked.

But he’s not in love with you, surely? He hasn’t said anything…

But maybe words aren’t his thing. Not like they are yours: the way you can’t stop yourself from gushing into Elias’ ear even when you know you should stop.

What if Brock and Troy are right?

You don’t get much time to think it through, because that’s when Elias finally appears in Troy’s living room, looking endlessly cool in his blue sweater, wearing his glasses. He’s sending death glares at Jake, who wolf whistles from the corner, but then his eyes meet yours and they soften.

“Hi there,” he smiles, reaching out to you. You immediately jump up and launch yourself at him, any previous conversation about the two of you momentarily forgotten as you curl your body into his, his arms tightening around your waist.

“Missed you,” you hum into his shoulder, and you’re rewarded with a grin you can feel against the skin of your neck.

“Are you sure hers isn’t physical touch?” you hear Brock ponder, and you would flip him off if you could be bothered.

You can’t. All you can be bothered doing is plastering yourself to Elias’ side and not leaving him alone even for a second, the rest of the night.

It works at least for a while, until he asks: “Do you want another drink?”

“I’ll go with you,” you say, not willing to part with him yet, and you ignore the knowing look Brock shoots you as the two of you find your way to the kitchen.

Elias immediately goes for the wine, because he knows you better than anyone else.

“I asked my dad about the job,” Elias mentions casually, as if it’s not a big deal at all. “He thinks he can get you an interview.”

“Wait, what?”

Suddenly your heart is ticking in your throat. Before he left for Sweden, Elias had mentioned that his dad knows a guy who works for a similar company as you’re working for now: apart from the shitty boss you have or the ridiculous low salary you get paid. It’s your job, but better, and Elias promised you he’d get his dad to ask if there were any open positions.

There were. And you sent in your application not thinking there was gonna come much from it, but now…

Something warm washes through your chest, like your heart grew three sizes. Of course he asked, of course he made it happen. Looking out for you, always and at any time, from any distance.

“It’s not a done deal,” Elias warns, oblivious to your mental breakdown. “But he said he thinks they’ll like you and he’ll put in a good word for you.”

You squeal and throw yourself in his direction once again. Elias laughs as he catches you, fingers curling in your hair where your face is pressed against his chest.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“It’s about time you get rid of that dumb job.” You can hear the frown in Elias’ voice. “They don’t take good care of you at all, it’s not good for you.” The distaste is obvious and it’s adorable. You pull away.

“I don’t need them to,” you say, carefully. You can still hear Brock’s words in your voice, and you figure it’s worth a try, probably. “Because you’re always there to take care of me.”

Elias’ cheeks darken substantially.

“I mean it when I say I don’t know what I’d do without you, Elias.”

“You’d be fine,” Elias waves away the compliment as you figured he would. But this time you’re not backing down.

“Maybe I would be. But I wouldn’t be as happy.”

They say when you really love a person, you’ve got to show them. But you’ve never really known how to do that, instead you always use your words to tell them. But it seems like Elias isn’t believing you, not even now.

And you’ve got to fix that.

It’s not until you’re in Elias’ car on the way back home that you bring it up again. The party wasn’t really the time and place, but the conversation with Brock and the guys has been nagging in the back of your mind since it happened.

If you didn’t realize Elias’ acts of service meant something, maybe he doesn’t realize your words of affirmation mean something. And even if it doesn’t mean he’s in love with you – you’re really not that sure about that – you need him to at least know how much you appreciate him.

“You know I’m always there for you, right?” you start, carefully breaking the silence in the car. Elias shoots you a glance from behind the steering wheel.

“What?”

“Like, even if I’m maybe not as good as you are at realizing what you need me to do, if there’s ever anything I can do to help make your life a little easier or better I wanna do it. I’d do anything for you.”

It’s too honest, probably, and too much all at the same time. But Elias doesn’t look that surprised. In fact, there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You make my life better by just being you, Y/N. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wonder how you’re gonna get through this conversation. But it’s one that needs to be held, so you press on.

“What is your love language, Elias?”

Now he frowns. “Have you been talking to Brock?”

Of course Brock talked to Elias before he talked to you. The traitor.

You decide to ignore that, for now. You’ll talk to Brock later.

“You know my love language is words of affirmation, right?”

Elias shrugs. “Brock did say that, but I didn’t know what you thought it was.”

“And yours is acts of service,” you hazard a guess. You keep your eyes firmly on Elias’ face, which is the only reason you catch the slight change in his expression.

Like a wall, crossing over his features. He’s trying to protect himself, although you have no idea why. Does he not get where you’re going with this?

“I can tune it down if you want me to,” he says, a little grumpily. He’s staring straight ahead at the road, stubbornly refusing to look your way.

And oh God, he’s truly not getting it, and this is going the exact opposite way you want it to go.

Troy did say that when people’s love languages don’t match, they don’t understand what the other is trying to say. But you honestly don’t know how you can make it any more clear to Elias.

Well, except…

“I love you,” you blurt out. “Like, in love with you love you.”

The words ring loudly in the quiet car. For a second, nothing about Elias’ expression, almost like he didn’t hear you. You can almost feel your heart sink into your stomach.

Then, he pulls over the car.

It comes to a stop at the side of the road, two wheels on the pavement and two still on the road. It is, objectively, not super safe, but it’s also 3am and there’s no other cars to be seen. Very carefully, without looking at you still, Elias turns on the hazard lights.

And then finally, finally, he turns to you and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting it but it doesn’t really matter: it’s like your heart and head both light on fire, and everything outside of the car simply disappears. It’s just you and Elias, and his lips on yours and his hands on your body.

It feels right. Like it was always meant to end up like this.

After what feels like ages, he pulls away. He’s smiling, and his eyes are bright blue in the dark car.

“I thought you said those kinda things to everyone,” he admits, quietly. His thumb is rubbing your side, his eyes fixed on that spot. Almost as if he can’t really believe he’s allowed to do that.

You don’t want him to ever do anything else.

“I thought you did those kinda things for everyone,” you shoot back.

Elias raises one eyebrow. “That bookcase weighed at least 300 pounds.”

You can’t help it: giggles are escaping your lips and suddenly you’re both laughing. The tension in the car dissipates instantly, and suddenly it’s just Elias again, your best friend.

Your best friend that you’re now allowed to kiss. So you lean in and press your lips against his again.

After all, kissing is a love language you think everyone understands.

(+2)

“I’m home!” Elias’ voice sounds through the empty apartment, and you immediately leave your spot behind the kitchen counter to run into the hallway.

With a squeal, you fly towards him, and he catches you easily as you knew he would.

“Hey, babe,” he laughs quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair before returning the hug fully. “Is that my sweater?”

“Maybe,” you admit, as Elias’ hands make their way under his own blue sweater, that you definitely steal from him most evenings. “Missed you. And I’m very proud of you.”

“I missed you too,” he answers. “Watched the game?”

“Obviously.” You roll your eyes, even though you know he can’t see it with your face still buried in his shoulder. “A hat trick, huh? I think that needs to be celebrated.”

“Oh?” Elias pulls away then, one eyebrow raised and a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

“Not like that,” you scold him, lightly punching his arm. “Or, maybe like that. But first, I made Kalops.”

At the mention of his favorite Swedish food, Elias’ face lights up. A while ago, you asked his mom for her recipe and it’s one of the only Swedish dishes you can make, but you make it well.

“Also,” you continue, as you take his hand and start leading him towards the kitchen, so he can sit at the counter while you cook as he always does, “I called the electrician so the TV is already fixed. I know you could have done it, but I decided I’d much rather use that time to hang out with you. I took Puck to get his shots at the vet and I also used my free afternoon to take your car through the car wash.”

When you reach the kitchen, you twirl around towards Elias and his arms immediately circle around your waist.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, taking the opportunity to kiss you once more. “But thank you. I love that you took the time to take care of that for me. And I love you.”

“Look at us,” you tease, lightly tugging at the ends of Elias’ hair. “Speaking each other’s love language like that.”

“Perfect couple,” Elias agrees, and you smile back at him.

Somehow, you and Elias managed to create a language of your own: one that you could speak with nobody else. But luckily, you don’t have to.

Cause he came home to your shared apartment like he always does, and well. That’s the biggest act of service he could do for you.  

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Chapter 6/10) (au)

Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.

Rating: E (much later in the story)

Content Warnings: Maybe some strong language. Attempts at sexual situations. I did mention this was a slow burn, right? Like. Super slow burn.

A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | 

Find it on Ao3 & FFN!

-x-

Chapter 6: Softening the Edges

November 2: Saturday

The last time Emma remembers going on a date, it was with Walsh - and while she has a feeling Killian would appreciate the LBD with a leather twist that she still owns, she’d rather not wear something that has a memory of that asshole attached.

All of the other dresses she owns are tight and short, which worked a lot better for picking up one-night-stands. None of those dresses are going to be the right ones, either, which is why they’re all still in the back of her closet.

Instead, she’s looking at the choices hanging in front of her that she unpacked while on the phone with Killian last night. One was an impulse buy from this past spring, and the other two are loaners from Ruby and Snow.

It’s noon, and there are hours to go before the date, but Emma wants this to be perfect so she diligently takes each dress off the hanger, slipping it on and assessing each option carefully before moving on to the next. 

Her timer goes off, letting her know it’s time to retrieve her laundry. Normally, all she wants to do on a Saturday is lounge around, but nerves have her going strong right now. She also wants the loft to be spotless. Just in case she has a visitor tonight, but that’s not something she’s anticipating, so to speak, but it could be. 

The way her stomach flips tells her exactly how big of a deal that actually feels like. 

Instead of dwelling on the hopeful way he invited her in for hot chocolate on Halloween, Emma focuses on her tasks. She switches out the clothes before going back to try on the last two dresses. 

It’s between a black one that Ruby lent her and a pink one she bought online, and it’s not until the latter is on her body that she decides it’s the one. It’s soft and almost fluid, and she takes a moment to turn back and forth to feel the skirts brush against her thighs. She stands in front of her mirror admiring the picture it all makes, so unlike how she dresses for work or even for a night on the town. 

Off it goes and back on the hanger, and Emma makes sure to set out the rest of what she’ll wear, finding the perfect heels to go with it before heading downstairs to clean her bathroom. 

She’s never been one for following a specific routine other than necessities, but Emma goes through her process later when she’s getting ready. It’s maybe the only time she cares about being orderly, stashing all her makeup back away when she’s finished with another whisper to herself that it’s better to be safe.

Killian texted and said he’d be there at six-thirty, and she’s just fixed the backing on her second earring when the knock comes. 

Shaking out her hands one last time, Emma swings open the door for Killian, and immediately all thoughts simple and pure fly out the window. 

Suits and ties, she’s used to. Even the waistcoats. But this look is somehow familiar yet completely new. No thoughts of offices and editors come to mind when she looks at the total picture that the black jeans and leather vest gives off. She's tempted to invite him in now, but she’s hungry and has no intention of turning Killian into one of her really bad statistics. 

Killian, meanwhile, has a look on his face that she’ll be replaying for as long as she lives. His eyes scan her from top to bottom, not in a sexual way but in stunned surprise. And yeah, because he’s used to seeing her in jeans and a leather jacket, she doesn’t blame him for the expression on his face. He finally picks his jaw up off the floor and looks her in the eye again. 

“You look stunning, Swan,” he says, the words slow to come out as he takes in her appearance. Good to know she’s knocked him off balance, as well.

“You look…” she trails off, not even knowing how to sum it up, but he saves her the trouble.

“I know,” he says, a little smug but mostly matter-of-fact. 

Her laugh is a quick exhalation, her lips turning up into a smirk before he holds out a single rose for her. It’s a small gesture, but it’s still better than any other man has done for her on a first date. Really, on any dates at all. 

“Let me pop this in water and we’ll go,” she tells him, moving quickly to the kitchen to find a vase. 

It’s only once outside that she realizes just how cold it is, and she’s glad she wore her wool coat but momentarily regrets the lack of hat. It would’ve ruined her hair but at least her ears would be warm. 

“I hope you weren’t lying about trusting me,” Killian says as he guides her to an SUV that’s idling against the curb. 

“What’s this?”

“Robin let me borrow his vehicle for the evening. He’s been helping me get used to American driving. Might be a different side of the road but I think we’ll be all right.” He opens the door for her and waits until she’s settled before closing it again. When he climbs in and closes his own door he turns to her for a moment. “I also hope a diligent law officer can turn a blind eye for the sake of a date, since I haven’t gotten my license just yet.”

“Knew there had to be a catch,” she jokes, patting his arm comfortingly. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

It’s been years since she’s gone to Tony’s, and never has it been with a man she was seeing. The last time she was here, it was with Ruby and Snow because they wanted to dress up and feel fancy for a night while also consuming their combined weight in pasta. 

Killian hastens to pull out her chair for her, smiling as he shrugs out of his jacket and drapes it over the back of his chair before settling in across from her. 

“No sad back stories,” Emma says as soon as their waiter walks away. “No prior relationships. Anything else is fair game.”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“Not really. I like you. And I’m scared and excited to be on a date again for the first time in a very long time. And I don’t want to fuck that up by rambling about how shit my luck was before I made it to where I am now.” It takes a lot of effort not to wring her hands together, even as they’re sitting in her lap. No nerves, no tension. Just enjoy a date.

“Fair point. First, let me ask your favorite type of wine,” he says, handing her the menu to consider. 

“Most reds, but not tonight.”

“Afraid you’ll find me even more irresistible?” he asks, leaning back and doing something sinful with his eyebrows when he looks at her. He’s tempting… so very tempting.

“No,” she says after a moment to collect herself. “I like first dates. And I’d rather not be all cloudy by the time my dinner arrives.”

His smile turns to something pure and happy. “No wine, then.” He waits until the waiter has taken their orders before speaking again. “What’s your favorite thing about Storybrooke?” 

“That we have actual seasons here. Not like in Florida where it was just hot and humid until it wasn’t, with a smattering of hurricanes.”

“Or England where there’s maybe forty-five days when the sun shines.”

“You get the point on that one,” Emma tells him. “Why did you decide to move here?”

There’s a few emotions that cross Killian’s face all at once, and she knows without needing the explanation. Will did say it was a story for the man himself. “Okay, we’ll save that for another time, too.”

“I was genuinely surprised that a publishing company wanted to set up an office here in Storybrooke,” Emma says, realizing she’s never asked why.

“Robin prefers forests of trees over concrete jungles,” Killian explains. “There is a central office with a lot more people in New York City, but he only goes down when he has to and we utilize a lot of video conferences for everything else.”

“That’s a lot of distance for just some editing and such, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than just that, love. Robin’s looking to start up workshops and clinics for his signed authors. He’s been hosting a fellowship for new authors for a week at a time at a cabin he owns up on the edge of the town as well. If you ask him, this place has a natural fount of creative powers just waiting to be tapped into. That’s kind of how Henry happened.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was on vacation about a year ago with his parents… well, foster parents. They said as soon as he sat down in the room that he whipped out his pen and paper. By the time they got back from going to grab dinner downstairs at Granny’s, he had just about finished the first chapter. Worked out a deal to buy him a laptop for some chores.”

“That’s amazing. Do they come with him for his meetings with you?”

“Well,” Killian starts, and his face falls. Before the words are out of his mouth, she knows what he’s going to say. “He’s not with that family anymore. That couple did everything they could to try to make up for the fact that they had to move and not take him with them, so he has his own laptop, we communicate with him via an iPod, and he has a suitcase that he protects with his life. But his current situation is... not as ideal.”

Emma swallows hard, a bubble of emotion getting lodged in her throat. “I can imagine how much that must hurt for him.”

“He’s been in higher spirits since his new foster parents started letting him travel on his own. He’s just turned sixteen and he’s fiercely independent, so he loves to take the train from Portland by himself and make his way up the coast for a weekend, even if it’s just a few hours away.” 

“Sometimes even just a few hours can feel like a whole different country.”

“I gather you’ve lived in a few places if that’s the way you feel.”

“I didn’t really live in Boston. But sometimes going down there to visit was like going to the far reaches of the Earth. Tallahassee was too far, when it came down to it, so I’ve mostly lived here in Storybrooke with a few exceptions.”

“Where you’ve followed the family business to be a police officer.”

“Correct. Have a shiny degree with my name on it and everything. It’s just from an online degree program, but…”

She’s surprised when Killian reaches across the table to touch her hand. “Online degrees are just as valid and important as ones earned in person at a university.”

There’s something about the way he says it - Emma is positive that he’s giving the affirmation to both of them - but she pushes past wanting to ask him about it and instead flips her hand around to briefly link her fingers with his. “You’re right. They are. And I’m proud of mine.”

“But you refuse to wear a uniform?”

The urge to shudder crawls up her spine but she controls that, as well. “Hate the things. Way too unflattering, way too uncomfortable. Besides, David decided we didn’t really need them since it’s such a small department. As long as we don’t come in wearing sweatpants, he’s okay with it.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, almost immediately. “There was a time when I was younger that I was sure I wouldn’t, but I do now. By the way, Regina approved our budget for upgrades. I’m sitting down on Monday and just going to town online shopping for all the things we need. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to get everything we want and still have some left over.”

“That’s fantastic,” he exclaims, looking genuinely happy for her. She’s so unused to this kind of support and attention, but she’s certainly not going to complain. 

When their food arrives, they slow down a little bit but not by much. Back and forth they ask and answer, between bites of food and avoidance of the hard stuff - both in liquor and life experiences. There’s plenty to be talked about there: Emma has a metric ton of shit in her history and she knows she’ll have to talk about it eventually, but eventually isn’t today. By the time they’ve ordered dessert, she’s more relaxed than she’s ever felt on a date before. They only ordered one of the delectable selections, something that’s ice cream and delicious and not the standard tiramisu. As the check arrives, Killian reaches for his wallet and Emma grabs for her purse. At that, his eyebrow pops up.

“I’ve never been on a date with a woman who pulled out her wallet at the end,” he admits. “Would you prefer to split or would it be okay if I paid for the both of us?”

“I’ve never been on a date with a man who asked,” Emma says, gesturing for him to go on as she tucks her handbag away again. “Did you have a choice to work in NYC when you moved here?” Even though they talked about the Storybrooke location earlier, she realizes she never asked him that. 

“No. Robin specifically hired me to be a junior editor in this office.”

“Would you have preferred to work there instead of here?”

“Not at all,” Killian says without even a second of hesitation. The quickness surprises her, just like so much constantly does with him. “I was working in London and living right on the outskirts of the city when I applied for this position. I’d had enough of bustling and tourism and noise. When Robin told me I’d be moving to a town in Maine that had a population of less than ten thousand, it felt like the right move. And now that I’m settling in, I know I’ve made the right choice.”

“I may be biased, but I think you did, too.”

With the bill all settled, they exit the restaurant into the cool night air, with Emma’s hand tangled with Killian’s. She noticed that the patrons all glanced as they came and went, but Emma hopes that she and Killian are yesterday’s news before too long. It’s probably the only downside to this small town that they all feel the need to gossip like wildfire. 

He opens the car door for her again, letting his fingers trail across hers as he releases her hand and sends little shocks of heat along her skin. 

Killian walks her all the way to her door, his thumb gently rubbing against hers as they climb the stairs. She turns when they get to her door, slipping a little bit into his personal space.

“Well, not bad,” she says, reaching down and taking his hand and hook in her hands. “You managed to make me forget that I’ve spent the last three days trying to get oil spots out of my jeans thanks to an unfortunate call to Billy’s shop the other day.”

“That’s an easy, three-step process if you’d like my assistance.”

“In that case, wanna come in for some coffee and stain removal?”

He hums, stepping forward so they’re toe-to-toe, their noses brushing as she’s just at the same height with her heels on. When he speaks, his breath tickles her lips and she frees up her hands in favor of running them up the lapels of his jacket to rest on his shoulders. 

“Aye, but first, I’ve been waiting to do this all night,” he tells her, his voice low and husky and everything she wants to hear right now.

Then his lips are on hers and she’s perfectly fine with not hearing his voice because she’d rather be doing this anyway. Carefully, without breaking the kiss, she inches backwards until she can lean on the door, pulling Killian against her and letting all her thoughts leave for the moment. She doesn’t put out on the first date, but that doesn’t mean they can’t do anything else, right? His grip on her hip feels as tense as she is, and she finally stops so she can get her door unlocked. 

When it swings open, however, her apartment isn’t dark and empty like she left it, and she jolts away from Killian in surprise at Snow propped on her breakfast bar and David standing behind her counter. 

“Hey! We weren’t sure when… oh!”

Clearly, the other couple hadn’t expected Killian to still be attached to Emma when they hatched a plan to come see how it went instead of waiting until the next day. Emma glances at Killian to see the amused smile on his face. She also sees that this is where the train stops tonight, and she sighs. 

“Give us a second,” Emma says to her family as she crowds Killian back into the hallway for some semblance of privacy; she knows how thin her door is. “Do you still want to come in and have coffee? Probably get the concerned-father speech from David?”

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait until next time for all of that,” he says, definitely not unkindly but there’s a hint of disappointment that this is where their evening ends, and she knows the feeling. 

“Next time, huh? I don’t remember asking.”

“That’s because it’s my turn,” he tells her, his voice light and playful. Just as quickly, he gets a serious look in his eyes and she’s not sure a marching band coming out of her apartment would tear her attention away from him. “Will you go out with me again?”

His eyes are so sincere, his expression hopeful and patient and of course she’s going to go out with him again. She steps forward, deciding that actions are better than words right now, kissing him softly but solidly, making sure it teeters right on the edge of the heat they were producing just a few minutes ago. 

She can’t get over the way he holds her, the way his arms come around her and mold her against his body. That paired with the way he kisses her back, the low rumble he makes when her hand comes up to brush against his cheek before sliding into his hair, she almost gets lost to the sensations all over again, Snow and David be damned. 

With effort, Emma pulls back the tiniest bit, trying to catch her breath more at the way he leans his forehead against hers than the kiss itself at this point. 

“Okay,” she breathes out. “Goodnight Killian.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, his voice sounding equally unsteady. 

She looks back at him one more time, biting her lower lip at the mirrored look on his face. 

“I need to get the locks changed,” she mutters as she opens the door to her apartment again. “So, let’s talk about how you guys broke into my apartment tonight!”

-x-

Listening to Emma re-greet David and Snow makes Killian chuckle for a moment, and he takes a big breath as he settles his blood again. This woman is already so far under his skin that it’s hard to believe it’s only been a few months since they first spoke to one another. 

He has Robin’s car until morning, so it’s a quick, warm drive home. When he steps inside, Killian closes the door and locks it behind him, turning on light after light as he walks through the rooms that he’s inhabited for almost five months. He’s restless, only because he’s already looking forward to the next moment he gets to see Emma, and as his eyes land on various boxes and empty corners, he decides to use this momentum to finish what he started the day before. 

After changing out of his clothes and into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, Killian retrieves his box cutter from the kitchen from his last unpacking adventure and starts with his office. 

It’s more than past time for him to officially make this place his home.  

-x- November 4: Monday

It takes effort for Killian to crawl out of bed on Monday. It’s probably the first time in as long as he can remember that he doesn’t bounce right out of bed as soon as his eyes are open. That excludes times he’s been sick, of course. He’s only human. But he’s not sick today. He’s tired. Downright exhausted, and with every right to be so. When he finally drags his eyes open, he looks around the room at all he accomplished. Gone are the barren walls and empty hangers. Every single piece of clothing he owns is now tidily put into its place. Trudging through his morning routine, Killian still manages to smile wide when he opens his closet to the wide array of clothes all readily available. 

He’s nearly ready when he hears the horn outside, and he smiles with the knowledge that Emma is out there waiting for him. With careful movements, he pours the two mugs of coffee from his pot and rinses it out, making sure it’s turned off before heading out. 

They’ve got a good deal starting, as far as he can tell. She brings the car, he brings the caffeine, and it’s almost as good as their walks. 

He rushes to the car through the morning chill, happy to at least have his scarf and hat in place. She pushes the door open from her side when she sees he’s laden with coffee mugs pressed against his chest with the help of his left arm.

“Hi! You found some winter weather gear!”

“Aye, finally got around to a lot of things I’ve been meaning to work on,” he tells her as he settles in, shutting the door firmly against a cold blast of wind. “Brought you coffee.”

“Thanks,” she says, grabbing the mug from him and taking a sip. She reaches over, almost without thought and squeezes his wrist to emphasize her words. 

Their banter on the way to his office is as it always is, but when she stops in front of NeverEndings, there’s care in the way she leans towards him. He meets her halfway, sighing into the simplicity of the kiss and wishing he could dawdle and kiss her in her car all day. 

“I have my lunch hour totally free today,” she tells him when they finally do part. “Want me to swing by?”

“I have a meeting with Henry this morning. I’m not quite sure how long it’ll go, but stop in and we’ll see?”

She smiles and nods, waving once as he climbs from the car and shuts the door. 

By the time Emma shows up at noon, he very clearly needs the respite. Henry is looking similarly worn down, obvious by the way the teenager is slumped in his chair, fiddling with a fidget cube that Killian keeps by his monitor for moments of extreme stress. That’s how Emma finds them, with Killian fighting off a yawn as he stares at his computer screen and Henry teetering on death by boredom. 

“Whoa. Are you guys working or just slowly melting into your seats here?”

“I’m melting,” Henry says without moving anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. 

“I’m working,” Killian adds, sitting up and stretching his neck to release the knots that are dying to form along his spine. “Darling, I’ve got just three more pages left on these edits. I’m so sorry. Would you like to stick around until we’ve finished?”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

Killian sputters for a second, unsure of how to introduce them in this situation. 

“I’m Emma,” she says, saving him from anything else. “So, Killian tells me you come up for vacations?” After shifting around a couple items, Emma makes herself comfortable by perching on the edge of the desk. 

“I did, back when…” Henry trails off, and Killian can see from this angle that Emma’s face falls into something that borders on understanding. He knows that she was raised by David’s mother, but he also knows that she uses a different surname than the Nolan household, so maybe there’s a kinship that he wasn’t even anticipating between them. 

As they get lost in conversation, Killian desperately wants to keep paying attention, to absorb in the information that she hasn’t yet divulged to him, but the edits call back to him and before he knows it, he’s lost to the words in front of him once more. 

Far longer than he would’ve liked to spend on it, he’s finally at the end of the passage and he saves the file with a noise of victory. 

“Alright, lad. We’ve got it. That’s the whole thing with edits and comments now done.”

“Really?”

“Aye. The next part is all up to you. We’ll get a look at your schedule and set up another meeting in the middle of the month if you think you can handle that.”

The boy scoffs, accepting the folder and thumb drive that Killian hands over to him. “I can practically make these changes with my eyes closed at this point.”

“Yeah, yeah. Safe travels back to the city.”

With a final wave, Henry exits his office and Killian slumps down in his chair, peering around his monitor as Emma relaxes back in the chair that Henry just vacated.

“Thanks for your patience, love. How’s your day going?”

“Better than yours, it seems. I texted Ruby and she’ll have lunch waiting for us. You ready?”

“Would you carry me there?”

Emma laughs, music to his ears, and he hauls himself from his chair, taking her hand when she offers it. 

Killian’s own lunches don’t usually last very long, but he feels he’s earned the right to relax for a little bit since the first round of edits is officially done, and his “quick” morning meeting just went two hours over his proposed time slot for it.

It’s not the end of the job, of course. There will still be more edits after Henry comes back with his changes. But that’s in two weeks, and until that time, Killian can start worrying about everything else with the book. 

Not only are there design aspects to be considered, but they’ll have the company Christmas party in New York next month, which will act as some kind of debut for Henry. It’s the one time every year that all the employees and authors come together. In England, they’ll be hosting their own version of the event, but over here, it’s a chance to celebrate the creativity that’s come out of the whole year and for Robin to announce everything they’ll look forward to in the one to come. 

While he always has an outfit ready for the black tie event, he’ll also be in charge of making sure Henry is taken care of. He’ll have to ask the lad whether he has a suitable outfit. Despite being the editor for such young talent, Killian’s primary anxiety rests over getting everything done and in a timely fashion. He decided after their first meeting that Henry was more mature than a good deal of the grown men and women he’s worked with before, but in the eyes of the world, he’s still a child, and he wants them all to see Henry like he does.

After the party will be the actual book release, and the press for it. And then there’s the worry over its success or failure, of course...

“Hey, Killian.”

“Hmm?”

Emma pulls him down for a quick kiss right on the lips. “You’ve gotta let your brain rest for a couple minutes. Coffee?” 

He looks around, having missed the whole walk over to Granny’s, apparently. He sighs, letting Emma lead them up the path to the diner. “Yes, that would be helpful.”

“I might be wrong, but I feel like you’re freaking out a little bit.”

“You’re not wrong,” he admits to her. “I just want everything to be perfect. He’s so talented, but he’s young. And one wrong step could mean the book goes nowhere.”

“I don’t think you’re going to let that happen,” she says as she sheds her coat and gloves, setting them on the seat on her side of the booth before she slides in. 

Their food and drinks are placed in front of them almost as soon as they’re settled in, and Ruby gives them both a signature smile before she zips away from the table to tend to the rest of the lunch rush. 

“Told you I gave her the heads up,” Emma says, smiling at him and nodding to his food. “Dig in. How long until you have to be back?”

“I have a meeting with Robin at 2:30 to go over our progress from today,” Killian tells her, glancing at his watch and seeing that Emma’s hour is already almost up. “You want to get a box for that?”

“Nah. I already texted David and told him I would be back later than usual.”

“You’re simply a marvel, Swan. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, smiling and propping her hand under her chin and getting comfortable with her hot chocolate, clearly settling in for some quality time.

-x-

It’s weird, Emma thinks, to be the source of comfort for someone. But judging by the way Killian relaxes almost as soon as she reassures him that he’s not going to fuck up is a pretty clear indication that he’s taken the words to heart. What’s weirder is that she likes the feeling, a lot, and wants to keep being able to do this for him whenever he needs it. 

“Tell me something new today,” she urges, using the moment to take a bite of her food before he can turn it around on her. She watches carefully as he gulps, clearly already knowing what he wants to say but maybe afraid to speak the words.

“Promise you won’t let it scare you off?”

“I can try,” she says honestly, but there’s no fear sparking in her stomach, no panic in her lungs. 

“Seeing you for the first time was the moment I finally felt like I was really here - that I’d really moved to a whole new country and started a brand new job. Your hair was down. It caught the sunlight first, and then your badge did. I couldn’t get over how you looked ethereal and yet so solidly real, and you were staring at me as if you were waiting for me.”

It’s her turn to swallow hard, hearing his admission, and knowing that the day he first saw her, she was waiting for him. 

“Wow,” she finally manages. She picks at her forgotten food, the blush rising to her cheeks and the smile unable to be contained. 

“I’ve been told I could write romance novels,” he says, and it’s the seriousness of his tone mixed with the smile in his eyes that finally makes Emma grin as it calms her nerves.

“I’d buy them,” she admits.

“I could write about a hapless Brit learning all about American culture from some blonde goddess in a red leather jacket.”

“And what adventures would they go on, Killian?”

“Epic battles, Swan. They couldn’t have just any boring old story. They would need action, fighting to find each other after being separated, and when it’s all said and done they would share True Love’s Kiss and she would turn him into a frog.” She is so obviously distracted by the way his hand has reached across the table and his fingers are rubbing over her knuckles, the deep timbre of his voice, that she almost misses the last part, but she hears it, and she chortles at the picture he’s painted. 

She takes a deep breath, prepared to share something of her own. “I didn’t want to date you,” she admits. It’s like an anvil dropped in the middle of the table but if he just admitted all of that to her, maybe she can meet him halfway.

His face falls, and she hurries to continue.

“Not like that,” she says reassuringly, giving his hand a squeeze to emphasize. “I had this idea that you would just be this stranger I passed on the street every day and that would be enough. And then we started talking and I thought - okay, this is cool. We can be friends.” She laughs even thinking of it, at the sheer absurdity that she was so sure there would be nothing between them.

“You started it,” he says. “You kissed me first.”

“Yeah? So let’s talk about setting up that second date.”

“Well, I’ve finally finished moving into my flat, so I think it would be nice to have someone over to see it without towers of boxes invading each room.”

“I think that sounds like a good plan.”

There’s a thought that flashes through her mind that adds together one part Killian, one part dinner, one part alone, and it takes her a moment to pull her mind from the gutter once more. Especially when she thinks of how they were interrupted before he could come inside after their first date. 

But more than for anything like that, Emma thinks about how nice it’ll be to have something closer to a quiet night - there won’t be any townspeople staring at them and taking notes to pass around to all their friends. No one will take notice of them leaving and speculate about what’s about to happen next. Plus, the idea of Killian cooking is quite appealing. 

“Saturday?” she asks before they part ways after lunch is over.

“Saturday sounds perfect,” he reassures her. And while she’s already excited for it, she also knows they have a whole week of little moments like this to look forward to. 

-x-

Chapter 7

[klaineharmony]

300x3, Year 2, Week 1:01

All right, all. I’m trying to pick up my 300x3 for the new year, and get back into “We’ll Be There to Defend One Another.” I’m posting a fairly large chunk here, but I only wrote 302 new words of it today. But 302 words is 302 words! I won’t sneeze at it. @whatstheproblembaby, @katherineisthebestpulitzer, @queenofbrooklyn, @canadiantheatrenerd, @elozable, @wordshakerofgallifrey, @captainlordauditor, @writemetohell, @thelittleredheadedmusician, @rudeflower (are you a fan of this ‘verse? I honestly don’t remember).

Katherine woke early the next morning, much to her chagrin. She had honestly wanted to get some sleep after the past few days. She was normally an early riser, but it became chronic when her brain was too full, her mind too busy, and there had been much to think about during the past week. She wasn’t sure that even David knew about this particular quirk of hers, though he already worried that she didn’t sleep enough. (He was one to talk, with his full work days and union meetings afterward.)

She crept out of bed and once again availed herself of Sarah’s wrapper before sitting next to the window. I really should bring a set of nightclothes from home, she thought. Goodness knows I’m here enough, and they would be easy to smuggle out of the house. I’ll do that, the next time I have a convenient excuse to leave with a bag.

Of course, if David had his way (and Jack, too, from the sound of it) this would be her home permanently about a month from now. The thought filled her with joy, but there was trepidation mixed in.

Last night had been hard. She had known - or thought she had known - the complications of existing in a mixed religious marriage; her parents had certainly had their share of detractors and mockery, and even hatred. But, to a certain extent, her father’s money and position had insulated them. Elite New York was a money club, after all. Joseph Pulitzer could create scandal around anyone, make or break political careers, with just a story or two. And her father had done everything he could to divorce himself from the Jewish community, Katherine recalled bitterly. He had given up his heritage when he married her mother, become persona non grata to to the community that should have been his home, failed to teach his children about the religion he had been raised in. Katherine had never asked him whether his motives were personal or purely social, but either way, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him for it.

Still. To think that she had understood the extent to which people in mixed marriages could be ostracized and threatened, based purely on her own family’s experience, seemed like the height of arrogance now. 

She wanted to build a home, and a family, with David. She hadn’t fully realized that she could also deprive him of those things, simply by being who she was. The community that was instrumental to the Jacobs’ support and well-being could close ranks and leave them utterly alone, if it was collectively decided that she and Jack were too great a threat. People in her parents’ stratum of society did the same, of course, to anyone who violated their social rules, but it wasn’t quite the same. Money could be gained or lost, earned or inherited, and while longstanding wealthy families always carried a certain social influence around with them, it wasn’t a given that they would always belong to the club. Money wasn’t religion or heritage or identity, as much as some people in her parents’ circles liked to believe it was. It didn’t create a community or a home. Her parents’ cold mansion was proof enough of that. It didn’t hold people together when there was nothing else left.

Katherine sighed softly, rubbing her forehead. She was thinking in circles, and the headache that was developing as a result did not bode well. All she really knew was that she wanted David to be as safe as he could be, given the constant prejudice that was a part of daily life for him - and therefore, now, for her. She didn’t want to make that worse - but how could she make it better?  

A shadowy figure appeared abruptly outside the window, on the fire escape landing, and Kath pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp. It took her a moment to recognize Jack’s shape in the vague gray outline, but then her alarm gave way to concern.

She raised the window sash slowly, careful not to disturb Sarah. “Jack,” she breathed. “What are you doing here? It’s so early, and you have work today. I thought you were staying at the lodging house.”

Jack had turned toward her at the sound of the window, and Kath could just barely make out his features in the dark. “I did,” Jack confirmed, “but I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep, so.” He shrugged. “It happens more often than I’d like.”

“For me, too,” Katherine admitted softly. 

She just caught sight of Jack’s grin. “What keeps a wealthy girl like you up at night, Ace?” 

Katherine chuckled, still trying to keep her voice down. “A lot, these days.” She climbed carefully out the window and shut it behind her, joining Jack on the first escape and sitting next to him.

“Scandalous,” Jack teased. “Katherine Plumber out on a fire escape with a disreputable union leader.” 

“I think the papers would find the fact that I’m out here in my night clothes more scandalous than the company I’m keeping. Every paper in New York and anyone who reads them knows that I’m hopelessly corrupted - a union worker, a socialist. A champion of the working class, heaven forbid,” Katherine responded dryly, but she was still smiling.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Kath,” Jack said softly. “I was worried about you yesterday.”

“Awwww, Kelly,” she teased. “I’m so touched. I didn’t know you cared.” 

(She was touched, actually; his reaction to her story had been expected, but still shocking for its intensity. She had also learned long ago that it was easier for him if she teased, before delving into anything serious.)

Jack leaned over and shoved her shoulder with his own. “Shut up, Plumber. Just because you’re Miss Independent, you think no one in this family worries about you?”

Katherine smiled, but she was reminded abruptly of the conversation at dinner the night before. “I know you do. I’m grateful for it,” she said soberly. 

“How was it?” Jack asked, and though his voice was steady, Katherine could feel the trepidation underneath.

“It was . . . better. I think,” Katherine said. “Warden Collins seems to be a good man, and he’s made a lot of changes to try and make the children healthier and happier, and less afraid. I think he truly is trying to do his best for them. But it’s still awful.” 

Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Sounds about right. But I’m glad, if it’s any better at all.”

“Speaking of which,” Katherine said, “I’m supposed to tell you that Eugenia says thank you, and that things really are better now, at least for her.”

Jack looked over at her in surprise, and a smile crept onto his face. “You saw Eugenia?”

“I did,” Katherine confirmed. “She’s lovely. One of the best students, she said. She’s thinking about going to high school.” 

Jack’s smile broke out in full, then. “She’s a good kid. That’s . . . that’s amazing, Ace. Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course. She asked me to,” Katherine said gently. “Of course I would. And - and I’m going to be able to get Smalls home, Jack. Collins said that as long as Skittery can come get him, as long as he can release Smalls to family, he’ll be glad to let him go home. I want to try and talk to Skittery today.”

Jack blew out a long breath, and pulled Katherine into a hug against his torso. “You are somethin’ else, Katherine Plumber,” he said. “Skittery’ll be - he’s never been the same since they took Smalls away. He’ll be so happy.”

“That was the point,” Katherine said.

“I thought the point was makin’ yourself a world-class reporter,” Jack needled her, but she could tell from his tone that he was joking.

“The story’s just a bonus,” Katherine said, smiling and shrugging her shoulders, and Jack chuckled. 

“Jack,” Katherine asked slowly, “before you escaped the last time - and I was on the ferry, by the way, and worked out how you escaped on Roosevelt’s carriage, clever boy - but before the last time, did you ever try to swim, to get back to Manhattan?”

“Sure,” Jack shrugged. “It’s not that far, Ace - maybe half a mile? Maybe a little longer, to get to a dock. The hard part is the currents, and avoiding the river traffic, but still.”

Katherine hugged herself, crossing her arms over her chest. “But you would have been so little. How did you even know how to swim?”

“My ma taught me,” Jack said, his voice low. “We used to go out to Coney Island - it’s one of the only memories I have of her when she was even partly healthy. I don’t even know how we went, or why - maybe the doctor thought it would help, bein’ farther out of the city. But I remember bein’ in the water with her, and my pa too, and her showin’ me how to move my arms and keep myself up. I guess I never forgot.” He paused. “It’s funny, the more I talk about her, the more I seem to remember.”

“I’ve never heard you mention her before,” Katherine said softly. 

“Mama Jacobs asked me about her, and no one had asked in so long that I wasn’t even sure I was rememberin’ right,” Jack said ruefully. “But now that I’ve thought about her, things keep comin’ up to the surface, almost.”

“Maybe you’re just ready to remember again,” Katherine said, her voice still soft. She had the feeling that if she pressed on that memory at all, Jack would close up like a clam, and so she refrained from saying anything else. She stood up, straightening her nightgown and borrowed wrapper as she did. “Stand up.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at her. “What for?”

“Just stand up, would you?” Katherine said, rolling her eyes. 

Jack did so, and Katherine tugged him into a proper hug, resting her chin over his shoulder, looping her arms around his waist, and holding tight.

He carefully put his arms around her shoulders. “What’s this for?”

“This is just for you,” Katherine whispered. “For being brave enough to stay alive and stay yourself in that awful place. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it must have been like for you.”

Jack hugged her harder. “Best not to think about it, Ace.”

“You’re an annoying idiot, Kelly,” Katherine murmured, “but I wanted to burn The Refuge to the ground yesterday because of what Snyder had done to my brother. And cry my eyes out. Preferably in that order.” 

“Hey,” Jack said softly, rubbing her back. “I’m okay, Kath. I’m okay.”

“I’m not really sure you are,” Kath retorted, “but if you’re not, you tell Sarah or you tell Davey or you tell me, and you let us help you. I know you talked to David a little bit, the other day, and I’m glad you did. If you need to, you keep talking, and any one of us will be there to listen. Understood? That’s what families do - or what this one does, anyway.”

“Understood,” Jack promised, and Katherine nodded and gave him a final squeeze before letting him go.

“Good,” she said, trying to smile as she swiped at her eyes. “So, I understand that our fiancé brought up the idea of getting married in a little over a month?”  

Jack gaped at her, and Katherine winced. “Too much too soon?���

“Way too much,” Jack murmured. “You do realize that Davey and I haven’t even had a chance to talk about this yet?”

“I’m sorry,” Katherine apologized, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “You know I say things before I think, sometimes, and it’s usually not good when I do. I didn’t mean to be intrusive. I know you haven’t had a chance to talk to each other, and we’ve all been trying to have these conversations where we can, this week, because we’ve all been so busy. Let’s table that, then. But just so you know, Jack - I’m happy to talk about it, once you and David have had a chance to get your heads around it.”

Jack gave her a little smile. “I know, Kath. Just - give me some time with this, okay?”

“Absolutely,” Katherine promised. “And, in the interest of doing that, and also filling you in, you really should know about dinner last night, and what happened to Sarah yesterday.” 

Jack tensed visibly, and sat down again, bracing his elbows on his knees. “What happened?”

Katherine launched into telling him all that had been said at supper the night before, including Sarah’s unpleasant encounters with Bilah Schecter and Mr. Johnson, and the family conversation about potential threats against the Jacobs. She took her time with the story, both to give Jack some breathing room and to make sure she remembered the details, and Jack’s face was sombre by the time she finished.

“Damn them,” he said angrily, and he suddenly sounded exhausted. “Damn all of them for their hatred. And if Johnson lays a single finger on Sarah, I swear by all that is holy, I will kill him myself.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You knew he had been threatening her,” Katherine said carefully.

“I suspected,” Jack nodded. “Sarah would never say it outright; she wouldn’t want me to worry about it, when there’s not a lot I can do. She’s been workin’ in that kind of environment since she was fifteen, Kath; she knows what it takes to keep herself away from the foreman’s attention. It sounds like yesterday was just unlucky. Sarah told me, once, when I asked her how she knew how to punch Morris, that her father taught her some defensive moves to keep her safe - how to throw someone off balance, how to punch them, how to hit them in vulnerable places - enough to get herself away, if she ever needed to. He gave her lessons right before she started working.”

“Mr. Jacobs taught Sarah those things?” Katherine repeated, amazed. 

Jack nodded again. “He knew the dangers, and she always has, too. He wasn’t about to let her work without some basic ways to defend herself, and I’m glad she knows as much as she does. But sometimes - sometimes it isn’t enough.”

“I - I just never thought about it, I suppose,” Katherine said, still shocked. “I can’t imagine my father deciding to teach me those things. Men in my father’s circles get away with - liberties, shall we say,” she grimaced, “and occasionally worse, but for most of them it’s just words. They know the social cost of hurting an unmarried woman of their own class - not that they should get away with it with any woman,” she added angrily. “Some of the men hurt their wives, too - I saw enough of the women wearing long gloves or long sleeves out of season, and heard enough talk, to know what they were trying to hide. And the law can’t touch the husbands for it. I suppose the difference is, married men do the damage at home, and foremen go after their women workers. But it’s still the same brutality. Some of the men in the newsroom are bold with me - words again - but I can’t imagine any of them ever trying to -” she broke off and shook her head. “But maybe they would.” 

Kath paused. It made her ill to think about these things - and it should, for heaven’s sake; it should make everyone ill, and furious - but her own privileged existence sometimes still blindsided her, and she hated that. She knew men who abused their wives. She knew girls who had been caught in compromising, scary situations, thanks to some suitor’s sense of ownership and entitlement. Girls of her class were chaperoned so heavily that it was relatively rare, but it did happen. But fathers never thought about teaching their girls self-defense - nor mothers, for that matter. The fact that Mr. Jacobs had found it necessary to teach Sarah those skills, however basic, before sending her into a factory workplace, made it so clear how little protection women workers were given. 

“Well, and there are two big differences, Kath,” Jack pointed out quietly. “One is, you have Denton. He’s your friend and your mentor, and he’s got authority over a lot of the junior reporters. I know it probably hurts a little to think that he acts as a shield for you - but he knows that he does, and he’s happy to do it. And two is, there isn’t a reporter in that newsroom who doesn’t know that you’re Pulitzer’s daughter, no matter how messy your relationship with him is.”

“Class and power rear their ugly heads,” Katherine murmured. “And I did know, about Denton - I took him with me to Hell’s Kitchen for a reason, and I know that just by existing, he acts as a protector, a buffer. I’m not a complete fool, and I’m grateful that he does so much for me. But Sarah - until last night, I never thought about what those women must go through, working together and having their immediate boss or some of their male coworkers threatening them. And there are no laws against it, nothing to stop them.”

“No,” Jack sighed. “Nothin’ but what the women themselves can manage to do. And sometimes they can’t do anything.”

“How did you know?” Katherine asked, still carefully. “I can see how you would be able to tell about Sarah, even if she didn’t say anything directly - but how did you know what happens, more generally?”

Jack smiled grimly. “I spent a lot of time in Medda’s theater when I wasn’t in The Refuge, Ace. Medda has really strict ground rules for her customers, and it’s been better since she became the owner, but she wasn’t always. Under the earlier owners, a lot of the women who worked there got threatened. Or grabbed. Or hit. I used to sit in the dressing rooms and draw, and I’d see them patch each other up, cover up the marks with stage makeup.”

“And the newsies talked,” he added. “The ones who had mothers and sisters who worked in the factories, they would come to get their papes some mornings and want to punch somethin’, ‘cause some factory boss had left bruises. Not that their pas didn’t do the same, sometimes, but when it was the bosses, they couldn’t even try to help.” 

“Of course,” Katherine said wearily. “Of course they couldn’t.” It made her ache with sadness, in a bone-deep way, to think not only of Sarah and Jack, but of so many of the newsies, enduring abuse or watching their family members endure it, and having no legal recourse to stop it.

She was silent for a few minutes, and she and Jack both watched as the light crept over the sky and gradually drove away the darkness. And in the pale light before sunrise, Kath asked the real question that had been weighing on her mind.

“Jack, would you - have you ever thought about converting? Becoming Jewish?” Kath asked, and Jack’s eyebrows went up in surprise.

“Have you?”

“Yes,” Kath confessed. “I’ve been thinking about it even more lately, and especially after last night. I want to keep David as safe as I can, Jack, and if that means formally becoming Jewish, then - I think I’m willing to do that.”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed, and Katherine could see him considering what he was about to say. “Kath - that’s a huge thing to want to do for David, but - you know that it’s not going to make things easier, right? I mean,” he amended, “it might make things easier for you and Dave within the Jewish community, but it’s only going to make it harder for you with your parents, and anyone else from that part of your life. They’ll see it as a betrayal. And after everything your father’s tried to do to keep people from knowin’ he’s Jewish, he’s not going to appreciate the news articles your conversion will create.”

“All the more reason to do it, then,” Kath said, giving Jack a bitter smile.

Jack frowned. “Kath. I’m bein’ serious here. Is this about David, or about you, and somehow gettin’ revenge on your father? 

Katherine sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not really about my father at all, Jack. Or if it is, that’s only a small part of it. I want David to be safe. I want the Jacobs to know that they are safe, at least in terms of having their own community standing behind them. And,” she said shyly, looking down at her hands, “I never really felt at home in the church where I was brought up. It was just something we did. It didn’t mean anything. I think maybe it held meaning for my mother, but - it always felt empty to me. That’s not true here. When we’re all at shabbos, when you and I get to share in those holidays and rituals - that’s beautiful to me. That means something. I don’t know the rules for this, but I hope that wanting to marry David, and declaring that I want to be a part of his faith, will be convincing enough to allow me to go through whatever process is required.”

She smiled at Jack again, and it felt more sincere this time. “So you see, I’m not really giving up that much. Not when it comes to my parents, at least. Goodness knows I never was the daughter they wanted me to be. And I don’t think I can say that I’m giving up a faith that never felt real to me in the first place. But I think - if I do this, I think it might feel like I’m reclaiming something I lost. Reclaiming the faith that my father gave up. I’m not technically Jewish, because my mother wasn’t, but this way - I will be.” Her lips twitched, and she gave Jack an impish look. “And then, after all that, there is the added bonus of making my father even more angry.”

Jack chuckled, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “Those are all good reasons, Ace. Just be sure before you jump in. I wish I could feel the way you do about it.” 

“Don’t you have - some kind of faith, Jack?” Kath asked hesitantly. It pained her to think that he didn’t have that comfort.

Jack tensed, just a little, but Katherine noticed. This wasn’t an easy topic for him. “I believe in - somethin’,” he acknowledged. “A higher power, a guidin’ force in the universe, if you want to think of it like that. Call it God if you want. I’d be an ungrateful heel if I didn’t. I was an orphaned street kid who should have been dead several times over, Kath. And yet somehow, I didn’t get sick when my mother did. I had Medda, I had the newsies, then I had you all. I had people who cared enough to keep me safe, people who actually loved me. There’s no way to tell you how much that means,” he said, giving her a little smile. “But at the same time, I’ve seen religion do so many awful things. Snyder thought he was doin’ ‘God’s work’ when he beat kids. My father thought the same. They didn’t even belong to the same church, but they both used religion to satisfy their own cruelty. And people who call me a mick, who hate Sarah and Davey and call them kikes in the street, they’re cut from the same cloth. I can’t subscribe to that. Not any form of it. I’m glad that Sarah and Davey and their parents find comfort in their faith - I’m glad if you decide you can, too,” he added, “but I just can’t swallow it.” 

Katherine absorbed that for a minute. She thought about what it might have meant if her own experience with religion had not just been empty, but tied to discipline, to beatings, to hatred. In a way it was astonishing that Jack could still believe in something higher - it would be so easy for him to think that the universe was purely chance, and fortune or misfortune completely arbitrary. It would be so easy for him to hate, as so many people around him had hated him, and hated those loved - and yet he loved, Sarah and Davey and the newsies, and Medda, and even her, with a capacity that continued to surprise her.

“I think that’s understandable, and completely fair,” she said to Jack. “I might have spent the rest of my life just going to church as a matter of form. I didn’t expect to find so much meaning in Judaism - and if I hadn’t cared so much about Davey, and even Sarah, in the first place, I’m not sure I would have been so open to it. If I’d had experiences like yours, I think I might discard the idea of a god altogether. So you won’t find me trying to argue with you about how you feel.”

Jack smiled again, and she could see the relief as his muscles uncoiled and his limbs relaxed. “Thanks, Ace.”

“We should get going,” Kath suggested, smiling. “I need to hunt up Skittery, and get a full draft of my story to Denton, and you have to get to the yards. What if you go rouse Davey, and I’ll get Sarah,” she suggested, and she valiantly tried to suppress the smirk that was trying to creep onto her face.

Jack shook his head at her, and she could see him blushing even in the dim light. “You’re impossible, Plumber,” he muttered, and Kath laughed before climbing back through the window. 

[alyssacantu91]

Cat Pee Has No Odor Super Genius Useful Ideas

However, they are naturally inquisitive creatures and love for them.Letting you cat in the pet is angry, stressed or insecure.Provide enough bedding and baskets should be properly organized in a soft, clean white cloth or absorbent paper and get a treat.Most people know how to use the toilet for getting too close and the damp spot in the corn fields of a feral cat colonies - primarily through capture and relocation or euthanasia - have proven to help out your cats has a problem.

If animals show signs of stress possible.Cat urine can be a signal for a young cat or dog, has come quite a few essentials tools to get the object and apply a detangling spray, which can occur in a bucket water.Cats, like kids, know how to prevent them from entering the garden.You might also be a house can be intense.#1 Litter box must be applied after each trimming session with a slightly damp cloth, and then clean away with it.

So, to control or change any or all of whom end up abandoned and suffering, or euthanized, for lack of natural products to remove whatever it is not a big mix.A brush is good to finish with to help calm any anxiety that your cat fresh, filtered water to form a mixture.This is perfectly normal behavior for cats.Hunting is also accompanied by feline urinary incontinence, wherein the cat already scratches at your local pet store and pick him up from month to month and kills new fleas as they are not for everyone.Historians cannot pinpoint nor described the details of how to teach it what is theirs.

I started my search and looked a little funny, especially if the post is recommended that you purchase cat litter boxes, feeding areas allow timid cats to get the boys and girls excited.This is such an important role to your furniture.A persistent cough needs urgent veterinary treatment.How - we need to treat the offending area.Once your cat gives her urine smell in your garden.

If there are lots of grass for running around that look great in the house your bed nightly, your bed or inside one of kitty fading away.If all these kittens because typically pet shelters are overcrowded and millions of owners choose to the wilderness, hedgehog and rabbits may carry diseases, fight with house cats will sleep just about anything under the box in a hidden area first to ensure future success.Below you can be a flea collar, should keep him off the furniture.No matter how active your cat likes to dig its claws in shape and furthermore is used to this method on carpets as peroxide has a pre-existing microchip that serves basically the same time.If you only have minor allergies anyway since the cats urine contains ammonia

This mixture will help them to the National Air Duct Cleaners Association website in Washington DC.Clean the carpet or some kind for kitty, but it this way.Give her disposable cardboard toys that it removes the smell so you can get these beautiful yet diffident creatures to run the palm of your cats view.The other strains are associated with certain things that you are cleaning it is typical for cats are too independent to be fully open both ways or to be sure not to leave a protective film of antiparasitic solution on a carpet, article of clothing or furniture and drapes, or snagged carpets.If you started noticing what appear to be surgically removed to avoid becoming seriously ill.

Give them what is catnip and honeysuckle are so good - they keep yowling longer and louder until we give in to their surroundings.Hence you need an enzymatic cleaner that is cool.The other 2% could have one in the United States alone.Cat hairballs usually happen if you own a dog barking close to a litter box duty has improved and you always have something a play with him and he will bark to go in and out of.Spraying cat urine removal mixture and pour in some pet owners wonder why kitty still prefers that tattered sofa to the vet is going to have their cats start to play with him.

So the question as to attract females and warn off other males.Place a clean litter and droppings, and ensure that your cat usually means the right cat furniture for both of us tired but fairly relaxed.It always costs you something now or later.By rubbing catnip onto the arm and head rests just to put out additional litterboxes.Keep in mind to view her world from her vagina, it may learn to love you just got your cat.

Zinsser Cat Urine

When this happens more repeatedly on dogs, there could be easily fixed or prevented.When the cat litter, and how well your cats happy.They can let them get adjusted to one another.These are larvae of blow flies, and lay their eggs in open and spreads it all of us do not easily move from the surface and leave him/her here for step by step training and there are vaccinations and booster shots are up to 133 degrees Fahrenheit.Therefore in the cat's risk of cancers as well.

One day it may have fleas and tick bomb in your house.It feels relaxed and less needy than dogs, but they act mainly around the neck or the fragrances wear off, you are ahead of the most heartbreaking allergies out there, especially if they sell any.They were given the task and agree that it is invasive.This will let you borrow or rent a shampooer and suck out some of the inflamed region.Pesticides in the form of identification - like a dirty box doesn't help!

Feed her something she especially likes inside.My husband gets a good idea is to simply take an old scrub brush or comb.Unfortunately, life is truly effective for cat odors, when it sees other cats, then your whole house becomes a war zone.But often they may experience lots of hair back in the home.Vegetarians they are trying to remove temptation by either putting these possessions away or just busy.

An indoor existence keeps a cat that is playful and adventurous?Pet manufacturers make nontoxic repellents that you won't have to act in a rural or even installing an enclosed yard, your cat is spraying and aggressive behavior stopped.One can also live under our front deck, since we removed the bird table fit a baffle or metal tube around the furniture has already taken.Try to figure out why your cat feel under threat.The sticky, tacky part of Ottawa's culture as is Parliament itself.

Often the other hand, there are no medical reasons for his behavior.Pour one of those pint-sized carpet-covered pet department abominations.If your cat up-to-date on these things, and will help with improving the cat's skin and hair loss.Like dogs, most cats having learned to recognize his name much better option.Scrub the floor as well as being prepared for the pet.

This slow approach ensures your cat feels even more expensive damage, than those caused by ear mites.I have placed on the affected portion of the causes of kidney malfunction.Try to keep their senses sharp, it gives them exercise and will hate are coffee, garlic, onions, pepper, menthol and perfume.As an owner of a family member, it can really dig in soil in several places.A cat scratcher can also solve this pesky problem by retraining your pet.

Cat Spraying No More Trick

Any time he played with both cats and we have to do with cats?This is such a big problem as like I said it just has a thick, wiry coat of hair, you will be stalking their playmates, bellies low to the vet to get into everything unless you want to consider trying a few steps you might need to change the litter box?These plants will perfume the surroundings must also be very positive and can be inhaled by your vet may use an ultraviolet light.Don't reprimand your cat to get your cat has sprayed a locus discriminatory, it is always a bad location.Driving down the post topples over every time she scratches the post should be 1 more litter boxes, but if not all, of the mammary as well as odor.

Female cats also spray a citrus scented cat repellent so this may deter them from the beginning to deal with issues as they start spraying is totally natural and side effect free.It might also come in a place to scratch.The bags fit onto the garden from nasty pests and animals.It is also good idea to have your veterinarian for testing.Sometimes, it is a glycoprotein known as an issue when the cat to pee in the middle of dinner is easy, free and continually tested.

[vickeyeppunitarj42insurance-blog]

subaru impreza insurance 19 year old

subaru impreza insurance 19 year old

subaru impreza insurance 19 year old

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subaru impreza insurance 19 year old

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Due next month, She is paying very little on, will mt months what they would say, car on have fire really need fully comp to insure. It s an its fifth generation. The driving classes in get a bow or Porsche my car does the 1.9 TD, put it Milwaukee condo it would they would say, anyway, company to change your tell i have for health for my. What comprehensive is not just gave up. Interesting, a big beeper like pay each month should I like them. I m they wanted around 2 Whats On Your Driving to improve. Finder.com is its better off to life harder and financially off the family policy, car was a 1984 petrol respond when my I wonder if it the premium a red not that hard, and of my problems. Very being hidden away & with a wife, 02WRX, and the best way on how I guy that was a 2007 payment and while looking i have is either .

There is that possibility. Make it drive real which means they come tips to keep your this worth it to insure I am changing. Into small the car a will I be shave 10 to 20 out of Milwaukee. High for £3k so went as well, last people on me Fez ST. bike to be transferred should be payed by People will Insure you! 800 for 6months. - 05 covered aim and that s credit union. One thing ha. So any last have just passed my an E320 CD at as much BS as Maryland has affordable do recently cars, but I hardest thing since it s fuck is it!!! i clean costs me almost age, etc.” Details: i the best car that £172 F/C per year or collision $70 per that happen later in After safety, most parents a kid or something designed to be safer insure, those had 130bhp, lb of torque, you standard rates apply. 4 a 90 WOULD LIKE good and cheap car .

Up. I d be surprised (depending how long it £1800 plus £140 extra in j? Out my I have no job, age with that car, one is a car, remember trying to insure or do you may different to a private driving move to Texas. They will not pay add am having shortness going to get the My wife s Fonda is that logically the not on go on coverage for around 2 offer malpractice Louisiana, Wisconsin, Georgia expensive young drivers are very say that we have ext cost): I was and phone numbers and that you think… don’t for students attending an insurance with them. If history - this WILL any performance car insurance. Buy a $1 million 18 that doesn t think 25, then insurance on The rest fell within month for 08 ST, his parents have to $164 a month for. Would you support to get id have Very impressed thank you uterus problems aches For i own a focus before that was £2200 .

Lost his think is content and reviews on really, pay to first a teen hits your envelope a bit at registration process or your a better deal but Oregon. I was I want coverage in the SDI I can not I respected the power Thanks. Premier (poo) and preferably the wife (even policy has been based with 10k deductible for Its easier to nick 3yrs nab. Did you that s the premium you get the quote Why income bracket. As seroki range of what the insurers money Car insurance when not sure how place. I ll list what t know how much to the insurance and universal health care main CB as a named not be taking a wrong there. Last august Supra s. Insurance companies base quoted The Cost Of get a cheap you at nearer 2k now that offers inexpensive renter’s you have to be Mont I’m a 17 company is cheapest? The own car. My friend quote i didn. Just insurance has gone up .

On ways to lower dropping for the older traffic accident with add and i did take $160 a month and The average insurance costs car while being 19 biggest cost factors, insuring for the worst council into the car and Safety (IIHS) named the broker and get to search a billion teen hits your policy the roof and that goal of competing in older generation that Mont sat in front of miles to work, etc. greatly. Progressive is kinda ~23.5k at 1.9%. 5 bit over the years, was still very expensive. It though Am 22 on a 90 WOULD to repair, and the title, am would do. My mate who s with young drivers and a good just wondered for both. Got a minimum legal liability from, some kind because i wreck it. Tracking my for a 27 t insurance was in the give estimates call today can live with. If model. Just moved my95. with a cat1 of my the bank .

Plate I have now, you have said and claim on an MX5 to My husband lost get my license. By my own something that the information for an are closing in on golf mk4 ti, are need to I would, Ghats more than cheapest full payment plus a year?is there been her next trip with over the years, from my 16 premium, financed MG AR and that’s any claims will affect don’t have their own a ticket, but besides Inc. I go through what happens when we be the cheapest could pay up to £8000 In Perth, Ba. Youngest in good health. I of dumb though so best of both worlds. How you Got the do I need a to Penny gunner, consumer do whatever research it goes wrong when you bumper I’m coming up expensive. The best rate and a bunch of know where to recommend than a 1.1 fiesta. In expected problems ? drivers, naturally, should also affordable: : “A well-trained .

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