#and picking out his outfits when he and ian go out on dates together

[wolf-knights]

How did we get here

Pairing: Ian Bohen x m!reader(ftm)

A/N: hi there, um so I have been working on this for a while now I have about 3 and a half parts of this already written (on paper) this is the first part and was written with the intention of a series. Also this can be read as cis-male reader but I wrote it with ftm reader in mind. Also in the parts where I do include smut I'll try to make it as gender neutral as possible.

mentions: strong language, angst, break-up, mentions of alcohol, negative emotions. DO NOT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE OR UNDER THE AGE OF 18. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DONT INTERACT. if theres any warning i left out please let me know.

-> 18+only, do not repost, copy or translate my works nor post them anywhere else. Minors and ageless blogs do not interact with my blog or my fics. Reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated.

Ian and you had been together for eight years now, you both met a year before teenwolf series was filmed. Recently both of you had been busy the new teen wolf movie, you guys did have scenes together but they never held the feeling of just you both being together.

Today was the last day of shooting, Ian had finished his scenes a day earlier than yours, you had gone into work a little later today as you were heading out you heard Ian on the phone with someone and it looked like he was angry so you left a note saying you were heading to work. As morning turned into evening Ian wanted to escape everything he was having a hard time deciding what to do. Ian had planned this day for years probably when you guys met at the party but something he always wanted had came in the middle of his plan but he decided to cook you both dinner so you could have a small dinner date. Ian went to the grocery store to pick some ingredients for steak and salad.

As he got home, he quickly changed into one of the outfits that you had gotten him for his birthday, he rolls his sleeves up before starting to cook up the meal but his mind somewhere else. You arrive not awhile later only to hear the classical music and a smell of a delicious meal, as you enter the kitchen you see Ian cutting up some vegetables for the salad as your eyes fall on him, you could see the rolled up sleeves his arms flexing. You could see he was distracted by something else so you clear your throat to get his attention, he looks up with a smirk slightly having the idea about what you were thinking. He cleaned his hands walking over to you and pulling you closer with an arm around your waist "well if it isn't by boyfriend?" he whispers and leans down a little to kiss you, as the kiss starts to get heated Ian breaks the kiss almost suddenly but you don't take a notice of it "why don't you go get changed into something comfortable yet date likey." he smiles at you while caressing your sides "I was just starting to enjoy the kiss." you whisper while running your hands up his hands "well i got to check the dinner so it won't burn like the pizza you made the other day." it made you let out a playful gasp "it was your fault for distracting me mister." Ian kisses you softly before smacking your ass with a smirk before he walks to check on the dinner while you go to get changed into something 'datey yet comfortable'.

As you walk out of the bedroom you see Ian setting up the table on the balcony, he pours some red wine for you guys in wine glasses and sensing your eyes on him he turns around holding the glass for you, but as he looks at you he whistles at you before walking over to you handing you, your glass before wrapping his arm around your waist pulling you closer "you look handsome my love" he whispers at which you smile and fix his collar "you look way more handsome than I do but I have to ask, what's all this for?" you questioned while taking a sip of your wine "well that's for me to know and you to find out." he replies cheekly and before you could reply back he shuts you up with a kiss and as soon as you pull away Ian puts on some slow song to which you both could sway to "would the y/n-l/n like to dance with me?" he says with a smirk "I don't know, I heard you are not good at dancing" "says the one who couldn't breath after our dance practice for that scene" Ian replies back as you both start to sway together "w-well that was a different kind of scene." you whisper as Ian presses his lips ever so softly on your neck that if your heart could physically melt it would but the moment had to be interrupted by a phone call-Ian's phone, you sigh and nod towards the ring tone "go pick it up I'll be at the table, god knows how many times one of our phones had interrupted us during intimate moments." you kiss his lips before going to the balcony and sitting on the table scrolling through your phone.

He goes to pick up his phone, seeing the number he goes into the bedroom picking the call up "Ian, hi how are you?" "I'm doing good just a bit on edge" "well that's just nerves but I have news for you" his manager says "what is it?" "you got the roll!" "w-what?which one?" he still had a tiny flicker of hope that what he was thinking was not true "the one you have to travel to france for I'm forgetting the name." Ian just hums before ending the call and sitting on the bed running his hand through his own hair, the only way to save your heart had to be this way...

A sudden knock on the bedroom door pulled Ian out of his thoughts "Ian love, you okay?" he hears your calm voice "y-yeah just ended the call." he answer back calming himself before opening the door seeing your worried expression, you could see how distracted he looked and how he was fidgeting with his hands a little but you ignore it, letting him come to you that's what you always did and it always worked or so you thought.

"go sit I'll bring out dinner." he says and kisses your lips before you walk back to the balcony and take a seat, soon you hear Ian coming back with two plates filled with delicious food he had cooked, he places one infront of you and the other infront of himself "this smells so good." you gush as Ian pours more red wine for both of you holding his glass up you both cling your glasses together before getting started on eating the dinner.

As you finish the food, you both take a walk for awhile usually a conversation would flow so easily between the two of you but today there was this form of an awkward silence, which made you feel out of place and uncomfortable and you could feel how anxious Ian was. You tried to ask him earlier what was going on but he quietened you down. You take a deep breath and finally decided enough was enough, you pull on his hand to make him stop "y/n?" he looks at you with confusion "what's going on with you?" you ask with a frown "I told you nothing is going on, why can't you just leave it?" he says in a agitated voice, a sort of voice he never used with you, it made you more on edge "Ian, I'm worried about you, you have been stressed for a whole week. The only way we get through hard times is through communication you were the one who told me that, so listen to your own words will you?" you move closer to him but he pulls back it hurt you and he could see it on your face the look of hurt and confusion "you won't get it y/n, just leave it" he says and walks away to the car and getting in "you can't run away from a conversation like that Ian." you say and sit in the passenger seat "I'm not running away from the conversation, it's just ugh yk what let's talk about this." he says more frustrated but in his eyes you could still see the love he held for you but his tone was completely different at the moment "in all honesty y/n I think we should break up." he mumbles "w-what?" "we should break up y/n" you look away from him shocked by his words, saying you were 'shocked' would be an extreme understatement, your hands trembling with nervousness "y-you can't Ian, w-why would you do this?" you ask looking at him now, you knew your eyes were already filled with tears. He could see your tears and how it hurt you, it hurt him too, it hurt him more than he could ever imagine hurting like this, but he had to do this for your sake."because a lot of things are going to change and it's better if we break this off now rather than later on." he says after taking in a deep breath to control his emotions "Ian we have been through hell together, we have been together for eight fucking years! W-what changed?" Ian could see your heart shattering through your eyes even tho you tried to keep your emotions at bay. He could feel you closing those falls up again, it had been ages since these walls were up and even then Ian could break through them as if they were paper "so this is it?" you ask not even looking at Ian anymore, the way you were putting those walls up again hurt Ian.

As you look away from him, Ian's hand moves to hold yours out of habit but he pulled it back letting out sigh "I guess so." Ian answers looking out of the window "'I guess so' you are the one who is breaking up with me and all you can think of saying is I guess so!" your eyes well up with tears, you try blinking them away but they fall down your cheek, in response you wipe them harshly and you get out the car and so does Ian "w-where are you going?" "back to my apartment, don't follow me please" you say with a sniffle before looking at your hand seeing the promise ring he gave you a long time ago, you remove it and hand it to him. You walk away from Ian and that probably was the longest walk of your life. Ian watched you walk away and he at that moment realized what a big mistake he had made but he couldn't walk back to you, he just couldn't.

As you get into your apartment all the memories you and Ian had made in this very apartment, you completely break apart on the floor of your apartment. You didn't know what to do with yourself everything about your daily routine for the past 8 years included Ian in some sort of way, you let out sob filled laugh at the thought. After awhile you move to couch seeing as you didn't want to be the bedroom, you cried for what felt like hours on end which had tired you out, this led you to sleeping curled up on the couch that held so many memories from yours and Ian's early days of the relationship, the relationship that was in shambles now. It hurt that you might have to see Ian again whenever you decide to get your things from HIS house, that once used to be yours too, a house that held beautiful, loving memories , all those nights when you couldn't sleep someone was there to hold you, to love you (in uncountable ways), to tell you that everything you are thinking about or stressing about will be okay yet that person himself had broken your heart for god knows what reason, but you were to tired to think about it all even tho your brain kept supplying degrading reasons as to why he would do this. You took a deep breath before closing your eyes just thinking and all of sudden it felt like you had passed out, it was the type of sleep where you don't even know when you went to sleep...

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi, the second part will be coming hopefully soon, I'll be having my exams soon so it will be difficult to write something. Hopefully you enjoyed and I hope you have a good day/night. ❤️

[teatimeallovertown]

So I saw this post about how Mickey should get a little stud earring. And first of all, I agree. And second of all it made me have thoughts about Mickey actually getting one and being comfortable with expressing himself in his accessories and appearance and what that would actually mean for him and, well, the only way I know how to express these insane thoughts is in writing so here is a drabble about it for you all. Because I have big feelings about Mickey finally discovering his style and look.

Ian's in bed by the time he hears the door open. He places the book he'd been reading on the side table.

"Hey," he calls out into the living room, listening to the sounds of Mickey shrugging off his coat and drop his keys in the bowl next to the door. "I'm in bed."

"Comin'," he hears from the living room and he can't help but grin, pulling the covers up a bit.

"Thought you'd be home earlier," Ian says as he hears Mickey's feet padding down the hallway. "Sandy talk your ear off?"

"Nah," Mickey says, pushing the bedroom door open and slipping inside. "Got uh...got caught up with something."

Ian frowns. Something is up. Mickey's hovering by the door of their bedroom, shifting uncomfortably and chewing on his bottom lip.

"What's up?" he asks, sitting up a bit, eyes scanning over Mickey, looking for something indicating what the issue is. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm just-," Mickey pauses, scratching at his nose, "Sandy just kinda...well I mean I wanted to but...I did something."

"Did something?" Ian asks, raising an eyebrow. "Something bad?"

"No," Mickey says, flushing a bit. "No not bad. I just...I don't know if you're going to like it. I should have told you first but it just fucking happened and Sandy said-,"

"Mickey," Ian cuts him off, holding a hand out to beckon him over to the bed. "What is it?"

Mickey shifts his weight between his legs for a moment, looking hesitant, but sighs before shuffling across the room to Ian. As he does, Ian notices something. Something small and black, centered in the lobe of Mickey's ear.

"Did you get an earring?" Ian asks, eyes going wide.

"I uh...yeah, I did," Mickey replies, pausing just out of Ian's reach, face bright red. "That's why I'm late. We stopped in a studio."

"You got an earring," Ian repeats, nonplussed. He doesn't recall Mickey ever mentioning an interest in piercings. Tattoos, sure. They've both talked about getting more together. But he can't remember ever discussing an earring.

"Do you like it?" Mickey asks nervously, running a hand through his hair. "If you don't I can just take it out. I mean it'll bleed a shit ton, probably, but then it'll just close up. That's what Sandy said."

"Do you like it?" Ian replies, eyes still fixed on the small piece of jewelry.

"I mean...yeah, I guess. Feels kinda weird. Probably gonna fuck up my sleep for a couple days."

"Was it just a spur of the moment thing?" Ian asks.

"I...well," Mickey begins and Ian can tell he's not saying something. That he's thinking too hard about whatever it is running through his brain.

"Mickey, what is it? You can tell me," Ian says softly, scooting forward in the bed and holding his hand out, waiting patiently for Mickey to take it in return. After a moment of worrying his bottom lip he finally does, stepping forward and lacing his fingers in between Ian's.

"I wanted one, when I was a kid, actually. Well fourteen or fifteen or something. Thought it looked cool. But I told Colin and Iggy about it and they told me it was...that it was faggy, or whatever. So I didn't get it. But I don't know...I've been trying not to worry as much about shit like that with my clothes and my hair and whatever. Sandy and I were talking about her piercings and I told her and she said I should just fucking do it if I liked it and there was piercing studio down the street so...," he shrugs, eyes fixed on the floor, palm clammy in Ian's.

And Ian has to bite down on his own lip for a moment because he doesn't want to cry. But he feels like he might burst with a mixture of pride, love and happiness. Because Mickey's finding finally himself. Finally accepting who he is and what he wants, other people's opinions be damned.

"Do you...do you like it?" Mickey asks again, voice still nervous.

Opinions except for Ian's, apparently.

Ian grins, big and wide, tugging on Mickey's hand so he steps even closer. Ian brings a hand up to his hip, squeezing it tightly.

"It looks fucking hot, Mick," he says, leaning up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I love it."

"Really?" Mickey asks, letting out a relieved sigh. "Because I don't fucking care what anyone else thinks if you don't-,"

But Ian cuts him off by snaking a hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for a kiss.

"I love it, Mick. I'm proud of you," he says when the pull apart and Mickey flushes, scratching at his eyebrow.

"Shut the fuck up, it's a fucking earring."

"Yeah, it's a fucking earring. A fucking earring that looks really fucking good."

"So...I should keep it?"

Ian grins wider.

"Yeah, Mick. You should definitely keep it."

[sequinsmile-x]

Love You in the Dark - Epilogue

A Hotchniss AU fic, set in the 1960s.

I cannot believe we are here already! Thank you all so much for the support and the love on this fic - I appreciate it so much more than I can say.

Special shout out to @ssa-sparks, @jetaime-jespere & @prentissinred who all let me talk at them about this fic endlessly, let me run ideas past them and are just in general very lovely people. Couldn't have done it without you <3

-x-

*Please read the warnings before you read the fic. Sensitive themes throughout *

Words: 13k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, domestic violence, cheating, emotional affair (additional small content warning in the end notes on AO3, will contain spoilers.)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Let me know what you think!

She didn’t know what to wear.

Aaron was insistent on taking her out on date, something she told him she didn’t need, and now she was standing in front of her closet sighing.

“I don’t have any nice clothes.” She says, grumbling as she looks through everything, slacks and shirts hung up neatly, a couple of dresses that were certainly no longer in style. Money had always been tight, especially since her and Ian had essentially relied on her wage from the diner for the last several years, so any clothes she did buy were practical.

It had been a long time since she’d bought something for herself just because she liked it.

“You have plenty of clothes.” JJ says, rolling her eyes at her from where she was sitting on Emily’s bed, her hand rubbing circles on her baby bump.

Emily was happy for her friend, her second baby on the way, but she can’t help but feel a pang of something close to jealousy in her chest whenever she looks at her. She’d resigned herself to the fact it wasn’t on the cards for her years ago, and it felt like the right thing, not wanting to bring a child into the life she had with Ian.

Aaron was different. He was an amazing father, watching him with Jack was one of her favourite things, and whilst they were only about to go on their first official date, she knew where this was heading, that they were going to be together. And it stung that she’d never be able to give him anything other than herself.

“He’s spent most of the time he’s known you seeing you in your uniform,” Penelope interjects from where she was standing in the doorway to the bedroom, spending her break from the diner up in the apartment helping Emily, “and I think we both know it’s not exactly your style.”

Emily looks back and forth between both of her friends, her eyes narrowing. “I think my life was more peaceful when you two didn’t know each other.” She jokes, turning back to her closet. “I just want to look nice.”

“You have seen how he looks at you right?” Penelope asks incredulously. “I think you could wear a trashbag and he’d still think you’d hung the moon.”

Emily sighs. “Don’t you have customers to serve?”

Penelope throws her hands up in the air. “Ok, ok. I’ll go back downstairs.” She turns to JJ. “Make sure she doesn’t talk herself out of this.”

“Don’t worry Pen, I’m not leaving until she’s ready to go.” JJ replies, smiling at her friend as she leaves. JJ turns back to Emily, unable to stop her smile at the way the other woman was looking through her closet again, rifling through clothing like she’d never seen any of it before. “She is right, you know.”

Emily groans. “Don’t you start.”

JJ laughs, but she sobers quickly. “I am happy for you Em,” their eyes meet and they both smile. “You deserve this.”

“Deserve what?” Emily asks, a shy smile on her face.

“To be happy.” JJ stands up and places a hand on her friend's arm, a gentle squeeze against her skin. She moves away and looks into the closet herself, pulling out an emerald green short sleeved sheath dress and holding it up in front of Emily. “This one. Definitely.”

“Thanks, JJ.”

They both know she isn’t just thanking her for picking out an outfit.

___

“I think that was the nicest meal I’ve ever had.” Emily says softly, her fingers tangled with his as he pulls up outside the diner, parking in his usual space.

“I’ve never been there before.” Aaron says, turning to look at her, an adoring smile on his face. “It was Dave’s recommendation.”

Emily laughs, rolling her eyes slightly. “Of course it was.” She leans in to kiss him, her hand that wasn’t tangled in his coming up to grasp the back of his neck, holding him in place. She feels his hand settle on her cheek. When she pulls back, her forehead against his, she smiles at him.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“Thank you for coming with me.” He stamps a quick kiss against her lips, smiling when they pull apart.

She doesn’t want him to leave, to be separated from him yet. She felt safe when he was around, happy, and that was something she hadn’t known in so long. She can see the hesitation in him too, how he doesn’t want this to be goodbye quite yet, so she makes the decision for them.

“Coffee?” She asks, faltering slightly when he looks surprised, worried she had somehow overstepped. “Unless you need to get home to Jack.”

“No, he’s with Jessica tonight.” He says, his thumb delicate against her skin. “She told me to have fun.”

She smiles at him, aware that the longer they sat here in his car the more likely it was someone in the diner would spot them. “So, coffee?”

“Sounds great.” He says, and they both unclip their seatbelts. Emily laughs when he gets out of the car, rounding the vehicle quickly to make it to her door and opening it for her before she gets the chance. He holds out a hand to her and she takes it, letting him help her out of the car.

“Thanks.” She says, keeping hold of his hand as he locks the car. “Let's go.”

They walk towards the diner, but she feels a tug on her arm as he stops outside of it, and she continues to walk towards the side entrance of the apartment upstairs, the place she currently called home. Their eyes meet, and she sees the confusion in his, the way his eyebrows gently crease.

“I have coffee upstairs.” She says gently, tentatively, and when he still doesn’t move she takes a step towards him, squeezing his hand in hers. “If you feel more comfortable we can go into the diner,” she says, her lip twitching as he runs a thumb over the back of her hand, “but we won’t get a moment's peace.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m assuming anything.” He says carefully, his eyes meeting hers. She wants to remove the seriousness from the situation, go back to the playfulness they’ve had all evening since he’d picked her up hours ago, both of them having to turn down food from Penelope before they left.

“Careful, Aaron,” she says teasingly, “it might be me making the assumptions.” She winks at him and he smiles, a quick thing at the corner of his mouth. “Coffee. Just coffee.”

He nods and she squeezes his hand, leading him towards the side entrance, only letting go of his hand so she could dig the keys out of her purse. He follows her up the stairs, his hand never leaving her lower back, gently guiding her to her front door. He’d been here plenty of times, when she needed him as a friend.

Aaron had still been physically recovering from his injuries when she moved the few belongings she wanted to keep from her apartment with Ian, so he hadn’t been able to help practically like he wanted to. Regulated to the couch as she unpacked her belongings, providing conversation and his ever present silent support as she talked about anything and everything to distract herself. He’d helped her study, gently easing her frustration that she had to retrain at all, as he asked questions of her, enthusiastically reacting in a way that made her roll her eyes when she inevitably got all of the answers right.

He’d never been here in this capacity, at night, as her boyfriend, and it made her nervous in a way she hadn’t anticipated as the apartment door closes gently behind them. They fall into silence, and she sees Aaron staring out the window, the living room bathed in neon pink lighting, somehow not as harsh as you would assume from outside.

“What are you looking at?” She asks, and he looks at her, a smile on his face as their eyes meet.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head slightly, “just answers a question I’ve had for a while.”

“Decaf?” She asks, and he frowns at her, making her laugh. “For the coffee?”

“Oh, yes. Decaf.”

She makes the coffee, hyper aware of his presence in her living room, and she walks over with a cup for each of them, settling down next to him on the couch.

They drink their coffee in companionable silence, his hand gentle against her knee, fingertips tapping against the joint. She leans against him, happy to be able to be with him like this. When they finish their coffees she puts the cups down on the coffee table, curling into his side again when she settles back down next to him. She thinks he might want to kiss her again, and can feel how he’s very purposely only touching her in places deemed acceptable.

She makes the decision for him again, leaning forward and pressing her lips to his, her hands cupping his face. She immediately deepens the kiss, tasting the coffee she had made him on his tongue. She curls into him, his hand coming to settle at her waist, pulling her closer, her legs coming to settle over his lap.

They get lost in it, both of them enjoying the feel of each other. Hands grasping at clothed skin, time moving slowly around them. Aaron stops her, pulling back when she ends up straddling his lap, his hands on her lower back.

“Em-”

“I don’t want to stop.” She says breathlessly, her forehead against his as she cuts him off. She can feel his hands press firmer into her back, his fingertips digging into the material of her dress, as if he was trying to ground himself, stop himself from doing something he seemed to think she would later regret. “I don’t want to stop.” She repeats, her hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“Sweetheart.”

It’s the first time he’s called her that and it steals whatever breath is left in her lungs, the term of endearment making her stomach twist, her heart clench.

She loved him, and he loved her, and that was enough for her. She didn’t want to wait, didn’t care what anyone would think. Her whole life had been coloured by the opinions of others and she couldn’t bring herself to care anymore, not when she had him.

“Do you…do you not want to?” She asks, knowing that would be the only thing to dissuade her. She knew enough to know that he’d probably never been with anyone other than Haley, and she didn’t want to rush him.

“I do.” He says, his hand running up and down her back. “I just want to know you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” She whispers back, kissing him gently, passing it like a secret from her to him. She’d never been more sure of anything.

He stares at her for a moment, and she can’t tell what he’s thinking, his hands still gentle against her back.

“Stand up.”

She frowns at him, but allows him to help her stand, her feet slightly unsteady as they meet the ground. He stands up too, pulling her closer to him again, no space between them, and he kisses her. It’s delicate, softer than the ones they’d exchanged since they sat on her couch.

He pulls back, his hand tangling in hers as he leads her to her bedroom, her body thrumming with anticipation as they stand together in front of her bed. He cups her cheek, the calluses on his fingers making her shiver.

“You’re so beautiful, Emily.” He says almost mindlessly, like it's a thought he just can’t keep in anymore.

She leans forward and kisses him, her hands immediately coming to his neck, his to her lower back, pulling her closer. Her hands drift down to his suit jacket, pushing at the material, his hands leaving her just long enough for it to fall to the floor. They both start at the buttons on his shirt, her hand slipping below it, coming into contact with his chest. She falters, her fingers finding raised scar tissue, and she stops. Pulling back to look at him, her eyes fixed on his chest as the healed bullet wound comes into view, her breath stuttering.

“Aaron.”

He hooks a finger under her chin, forces her to look up at him and he smiles at her, wipes a thumb under her eye to get rid of a tear before she even realises it’s fallen. “It’s not your fault.”

She wants to apologise, say she’s sorry until she feels absolved of the guilt she’s not sure will ever completely fade. But she stops herself. Ian was gone, and she wouldn’t let him be a part of this. He’d already taken so much from both of them, and he wasn’t going to have this too. The whispered apologies and conversations could come later, they had plenty of time.

She hopes they have forever.

Emily smiles up at him and takes a quick step back, lifting her dress over her head and leaving herself just in her underwear. She notices the moment he sees them, the still red marks just above the line of her bra. He hesitates for a moment before he reaches out, his fingers delicate against her skin. She closes her eyes, his tender touch overwhelming, even against the scar tissue, the skin still numb.

“We match.” She whispers, opening her eyes to look up at him, her smile wavering slightly as her lower lip trembles, all of her emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

He kisses her this time, his palms against her bare skin, branding her in a way entirely different to the way her husband had. He leads her over to the bed, laying her down gently before joining her. He takes her apart, gentle and domineering in a way she had come to expect from him, but still taking her by surprise.

Afterwards, when she’s laying in his arms in her bed, pressed up against him in a way that she had dreamed of for months, she doesn’t think she has ever felt more content.

“I love you.” She says, the words escaping her before she really thinks about it. It’s the first time she's been able to say it since Ian had forced the confession out of her months ago, made her admit it in what she thought were the last moments of her life. It had felt tainted after that, something she would never be able to get back, but it felt right now, something just for the two of them.

“I love you too.” He says as he kisses the top of her head, pulling her in closer to him, his body heat lulling her to sleep.

She’s woken the next morning, really only a few hours later, by Aaron pressing his lips to her shoulder, his hand gentle as it trails up and down her spine. She opens her eyes to see him sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing his clothes from the night before.

“I’ve got to go.” He says quietly. “I’ve got to pick up Jack.”

She nods, sitting up in bed and rubbing at her eyes. “Ok.” He kisses her, a quick thing, lost as she smiles against his lips. “Call me later?”

“Of course.” He says, kissing her once more before he stands up. “Love you.”

“You too.”

Aaron can’t stop smiling as he leaves her apartment, walking down the stairs and outside, the bright sun briefly blinding him. He walks towards his car, keys in hand, when a voice makes him jump.

“Lovely morning isn’t it.”

He turns to see Penelope standing next to him, leaning against the window of the diner, a grin on her face that makes him blush.

“Good morning Penelope.”

“Good morning indeed.” She replies, still smiling at him. “Off home?”

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat as he nods towards his car. “Got to go pick up Jack.”

“Have a good day.” She says, watching as he unlocks the vehicle, “oh and Aaron?” She smirks at him as he turns to look at her, his cheeks still tinged pink in a way she had never seen before. “Your secret is safe with me.”

He smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”

He gets in his car and drives off before he can be embarrassed any further, and as the diner disappears from view in his rear view mirror he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier.

___

The phone ringing surprises Emily, making her jump slightly, pulling her concentration away from the book she’d been reading. She stands up from the couch, assuming the call would be from Aaron, apart from Penelope he was the only person who had the number.

Their relationship was going from strength to strength. The weeks that had passed since their first date were some of the happiest of her life. It was unlike anything she had ever known, their time together precious. He’d spent the last few nights with Jack, the little boy recovering from a cold, and it was the longest she’d gone without seeing him since they officially started being them.

“Hey handsome.” She says as she answers, smiling as she thinks of him.

“Well, no one has ever called me that before.” Penelope says, her amusement carrying down the line.

“Oh, Pen.” Emily says, wincing slightly in embarrassment. “Sorry, I thought you were Aaron.”

“Clearly.”

Aaron had told her about Penelope catching him leaving after their first night together, and it had certainly happened again since. Sometimes her friend would just look at her knowingly, a smile on her face that would make Emily blush a little.

“How can I help you? Do you need me down there?” Emily says, changing the subject.

“Not at all, it’s your day off.” Penelope replies. “It’s just…” Penelope’s voice gets quieter, like she's trying to hide what she’s saying from someone, “there’s a woman here saying she’s your mother.”

For a second, Emily is sure time stops. She certainly stops breathing, her chest immediately tight. It had been years since she’d seen her mother, her relationship with Ian still somewhat stable at the time, although things had started to fall apart.

“Emily?”

“Sorry.” She says, finally releasing a breath. “What does she look like?”

“You. If you’d forgotten how to smile.”

Emily sighs. “That’s her.” She pauses, sighing and closing her eyes, her grip on the phone tightening. “Send her up here.”

“Are you sure?” Penelope sounds conflicted. She didn’t know the whole story, how Emily’s relationship with Elizabeth had all but disintegrated, but she had guessed enough. Mother and daughter torn apart by grief, and the inability to be what each other wanted. What each other needed.

“Yeah, she won’t leave until I see her, and I wouldn’t wish that on you.”

“Ok, I’ll send her up.”

Emily hangs up the phone and knows she has, at most, a minute before her mother makes it upstairs. She quickly walks into the bedroom, and winces as she checks out her appearance in the mirror, her outfit and hair not how she’d want Elizabeth to see her, but it’s too late to do anything about it.

There is a knock on the door and Emily blows out a deep breath before she crosses the apartment to open it, Elizabeth standing on the other side.

“Emily.” She says, as if it hadn’t been years, like her daughter’s world hadn’t shifted so dramatically since the last time they had seen each other.

“Mother.”

They stand there staring at each other, Emily still blocking the entrance to the apartment, until Elizabeth clears her throat. “Well, are you going to let me in?”

Emily smiles stiffly before nodding, taking a step back. “Of course.”

Elizabeth walks in and looks around the apartment, and Emily sees the moment she spots a pair of shoes that clearly belong to a man in the rack by the door. She feels like a misbehaving teenager who has been caught out and she hates it, hates that even after all of these years her mother can still make her feel like this.

“His name is Aaron.” Emily says softly, answering the question Elizabeth had pointedly not asked. Her mother doesn’t even flinch, as if she was almost expecting it. “He’s a good man.”

“I’ve heard that before.” Elizabeth says, turning to look at her and Emily can’t help the sigh that escapes her, the slight shake of her head.

“Mother.”

“I’m sorry.” Elizabeth says, taking a seat on the couch. “That was uncalled for.”

Emily stares at her, the uncharacteristic apology stunning her for a second. She wraps her arms around herself. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” She says, taking a seat on the couch.

“Why?” Emily asks, remaining standing, her nerves setting her on edge.

“I heard about what happened. With Ian.”

Emily looks down at the floor, her arms tightening over her chest, not wanting to talk about it but knowing that she had no choice. “That happened months ago.”

“I only got back into the country a week ago.” Elizabeth says, clearing her throat. “I found out yesterday.”

Emily looks back up at her, uncurling her arms from around herself to pull her sleeves down over her fists, grasping at the material in her hands. She takes a seat on the couch, as far away as possible from her mother, needing the space.

“How did you find out?” Emily asks, not particularly sure she wanted the answer.

Elizabeth stares at her for a second, as if trying to figure out whether she should tell her. “I was in my office yesterday morning, and Detective Aaron Hotchner came to see me.”

Emily feels like the air has been stolen from her lungs again. “What?”

“I’m assuming that's the same Aaron who owns the shoes over there,” Elizabeth remarks, tilting her head towards the front door, “I guessed that based on the way he spoke about you that he wasn’t simply an acquaintance.”

Anger floods through her veins. He knew. He knew how difficult her relationship with her mother was and he had gone to see her without talking to her about it. Somehow aware that Elizabeth was back in the country. She might not have seen him in a few days but they had spoken, he’d called her since he had been to see her mother and had said nothing.

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Emily says through clenched teeth, her energy channelling itself into picking at her cuticles.

“I’m glad he did.” Elizabeth says. “Ian-”

Emily sighs, the tears that press at the back of her eyes annoying her, the mention of him all these months later still able to elicit such a response, so she cuts her mother off. “I don’t want to talk about it. He’s gone.”

“After I spoke to Detective Hotchner,” Elizabeth says, as if Emily hadn’t spoken, “I had my secretary find the old paper clippings at the library. You shot him.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” Emily says, the truth she had repeated countless times easier each time she said it. “He was going to kill me, and Aaron.”

“Is that what this is?” Elizabeth says, her eyebrows furrowing, “Detective Hotchner saved you, and now you feel some kind of loyalty to him?”

“No,” Emily says, shaking her head, “he helped me save myself.” She corrects, making eye contact with her mother. “And I love him. A lot. I won’t let you just walk back into my life and diminish that.”

She was angry at him, furious in a way she hadn’t been in the entire time she had known him, but she would not allow her mother to look down on him.

“And that woman downstairs, she’s your landlord?” Elizabeth asks, seemingly happy to let the conversation about Aaron go for now.

“Yes. And my boss.”

Elizabeth’s eyebrows crease, her confusion clear. “You work down there?”

“For about 5 more days. Then I’m going back to working in a hospital. I’ve requalified and have a nursing job lined up.” Emily explains as evenly as she could, her mother’s questions about her life starting to grate on her.

“I…didn’t realise you’d stopped nursing.”

Any irritation Emily felt disappears in seconds, a look of genuine concern on Elizabeth’s face. “Well. A lot of things have happened in the last few years.”

They fall into silence. It’s tense, awkward, and Emily worries she could drown in it.

“You should have told me how bad things got Emily.” Elizabeth says eventually, her voice even, and Emily wonders just how much Aaron told her.

Emily frowns at her. “So you could tell me ‘I told you so?’ You said it yourself. Prentiss’ don’t get divorced.”

“So I could help you.” Elizabeth replies, making Emily scoff. “I would’ve wanted you safe. That is more important to me than anything else.”

The sincerity in her voice makes Emily stare at her, her jaw tense, as if she’s trying to spot the lie, and figure out what her mother’s game plan is, but she sees nothing. Just a mother who hadn’t realised how bad her daughter’s life had got, her guilt as clear as Emily had ever seen it.

“I think…” Emily starts, clearing her own throat when she hears how ragged her voice sounds, “I think we can both do better going forward.”

Elizabeth smiles at her, her hand coming to rest on her daughter’s knee and squeezing it. “Does he make you happy?”

“Aaron?” She asks, tentatively placing her hand over Elizabeth’s.

“Yes.”

“Well, current annoyance at him aside,” Emily says, a wry smile forming on her face, “yes. He really does.”

“Then I’m happy for you.”

Emily smiles at her. “Thanks, Mom.”

___

She’s still angry when he comes round to see her that evening, a pre-planned thing that they had discussed the night before.

He lets himself into the apartment, the key she had given him the day after their first date in amongst all of his own keys, and she feels the anger bubble up again, as fresh as it was when her mother first told her that Aaron is the one who had gone to see her.

“Hi sweetheart.” He says, dropping his keys on the table by the door as he closes it, locking it from the inside. He walks over to her where she is sitting on the couch, and attempts to kiss the top of her head, but she moves out the way. “Emily?”

“I had a visitor today.” She says, closing the book in her hands and dumping it on the coffee table. “Do you want to guess who?” She turns to look at him, still standing, and she scoffs at the confusion on his face. “My mother.”

She sees the moment it clicks, the way he closes his eyes, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “Em-”

“Why did you go see her?” Emily interrupts, standing up so she is in front of him. “What made you think that was a good idea?”

Aaron looks indignantly at her, his own annoyance starting to show. “I thought you wanted to fix your relationship with her.” “I wanted it to be my decision.”

“Sweetheart-”

“You had no right.” She shouts, frustration at him crawling through her veins, making her tense. “You should have spoken to me about it, asked if I wanted to see her.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “So I wouldn’t be blindsided by her just showing up in my life again on a random Wednesday.”

He frowns at her and takes a step forwards, his hand stretched out towards and she flinches, quickly moving backwards away from him. They both freeze, rooted to the spot as her automatic response sinks in.

“Emily.” He says, so much devastation wrapped up in her name that it cuts through her, the tears pressing at the back of her eyes instantly. “I’d never…”

He drifts off, still standing on the same spot, his hand that had still been reaching out to her falling to his side.

“I know.“ She chokes out, her anger momentarily forgotten. “I know you wouldn’t.” She covers her face, scrubbing at her eyes as if it would remove the last few minutes from her memory. “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart.”

She uncovers her face, he’s much closer than he was before, but still not touching her, and it takes everything in her not to flinch again. She doesn’t want to hurt him, to make him think any part of her is afraid of him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He says softly, nothing but love for her in his eyes. She leans forward, closing the gap between them and presses herself against his chest, his arms wrapping around her tightly. He kisses the top of her head twice in a row, trying to press his love into her skin. “Nothing at all.”

Her fingers dig into the back of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, seeking the comfort that only he could give. “Whenever I think I’m free of him…” She drifts off, her words lost to a sob she presses against him, her forehead in his neck.

“Baby,” he says, his own voice tight. He cups her face, a hand on each cheek as he guides her away from him so he can look at her, “you free of him. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Emily nods and tries to smile at him before leaning forward, not wanting space. “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t tell her that she doesn’t need to apologise again, knowing it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Instead he stands there, happy to be her support, her foundation, as she worked through it. Her cries lessen and her grip on his shirt loosens a little, the tension leaving her body as he gently rubs circles on her back.

“I’m sorry Emily.” Aaron says eventually, pulling away to look at her. “I didn’t fully think the thing with your mother all the way through. I was going to talk to you about it tonight.” His lips quirk in a slight smile. “I wasn’t expecting her to just…show up.”

Emily laughs at that, it’s a watery thing, her tears still choking her slightly, but the sight of her smile stirs something in him, her happiness paramount to him. “It's ok, I know your intentions were good, but you need to discuss these things with me.” She moves a hand from his back to cup his neck, her thumb gentle at his cheek. “We’re going to build a life together, Aaron. You can’t just make decisions for me. Ok?”

He smiles at her, his future never as clear as it was in that moment.

“Ok.”

___

Winter 1964

Aaron was late.

He was never late, and she feels anxiety crawling up her spine. She distracts herself, looking in the mirror at her outfit. It was new, something she had treated herself to when Aaron told her he was taking her on a date, that it was special. It was red, long sleeved to help against the chill of the winter air, it's tight at her waist and then flares to where it ends at her knees.

The phone in the apartment rings and it surprises her, making her jump slightly as she turns and walks towards the living room, keen to answer it quickly.

“Hello?”

“Hi sweetheart.”

His voice immediately calms her, a balm to her slightly frayed nerves. “Why are you calling? Are you on your way?”

“I’m already here.”

Emily frowns, any anxiety she had felt before replaced by confusion. “What?”

“Come downstairs, Emily.” He says softly, a smile to his voice that is undeniable, letting her know he found her confusion endearing.

“Downstairs?”

“Yes, downstairs. To the diner. The place you used to work.”

She rolls her eyes even though he can’t see her, and has to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Yes, honey. I know what the diner is.”

“Then I’ll see you in a minute.” He replies, his tone still gentle.

“See you in a minute.” She goes to hang up, but hears him say her name again. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

She smiles, the words having the same effect they always did. “I love you too.” She hangs up the phone and smooths the material of her dress with her hands and she takes a deep breath. She leaves the apartment, walking down the stairs, choosing to go through the entrance that leads directly into the diner, the door by the stockroom. Emily stops as she turns the corner, gasping as she takes in the sight in front of her.

It’s only her and Aaron in the diner, no one else, even Penelope, in sight. He’s wearing a suit, a tie he usually went without on their dates standing out against his shirt. The normal bright lights of the diner are off, the room illuminated by the neon sign outside and candles on the counter, in the booths, on every surface she can see. Their booth, the place where their story began, is set up for a meal, crockery she knows doesn’t usually belong in the diner. It’s fine china slightly out of place amongst all the pinks and whites.

“Hi sweetheart.” He says, breaking her out of her reverie, her eyes snapping to his, the sheen to them visible even from where she was standing.

“Hi.” She croaks out, her throat tighter than it had been in a long time. He reaches out for her, his hand stretched out, and she closes the gap between them, linking their fingers together. “Where is everyone?” She asks, cursing herself when it flies out of her mouth unbidden, the fresh knowledge of what was about to happen overwhelming her.

“Penelope said we could have the diner all to ourselves for tonight,” he says, leaning down to kiss her, “I think she took Spencer somewhere else, something about the fact he never eats unless she makes him.”

Emily laughs at that, but it catches in her throat, her eyes watering as she looks at him. “That was nice of her.”

Aaron kisses her again, holding her to him as she leans into it, her hands against his chest. He pulls away, stamping his lips to the corner of hers before he moves away from her, his hands on her hips.

He steps away from her entirely, a chill left in his wake. He digs into his pocket, and despite the fact she was expecting it, that she had figured out what was happening the moment she stepped into the diner, she feels her heartbeat faster as he pulls out a small box.

“Aaron.” She breathes out, her hand coming to cover her mouth, her whole body feeling like it was shaking.

He kneels down on the floor in front of her and opens the box, a beautiful ring coming into view. The asscher cut diamond ring making her gasp as it shines in the dim lighting, the flickering of the candles dancing across it. She looks back at Aaron and his eyes are shining too, somehow brighter than the diamond he was offering her. The life he was offering her.

“Emily,” he says, his voice as steady as ever, she reaches out and grabs his spare hand, needing to touch him, to feel the way he could always soothe her with nothing but his skin against hers. “18 months ago I needed a coffee, and I saw that bright sign outside and decided that would do. I didn’t know that decision would change my life.” He smiles at her, and she wipes at his cheek, a tear having escaped his lash line. “When I first saw you I remember thinking how beautiful you are, and then I got to know you, I learnt that your beauty is the very least of it. You’re smart, and interesting and so brave sweetheart-”

“Aaron-” her voice is shaking, and she doesn’t care, all of her focus is on him.

“And I know you don’t think you are, but I will spend the rest of my life reminding you of that. If you’ll have me.”

She sobs, the sound escaping her before she can stop it, and she realises he’s stopped speaking, that he’s just staring at her. “You actually have to ask.”

He smiles at her, both dimples on display, and he nods. “Emily, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She says, speaking before he’s even finished. “Of course I will.”

He slips the ring onto her finger, a perfect fit, and stands with a speed that surprises her, pulling her into an embrace, a firm kiss that they both put everything into. He rests his forehead against hers and wipes his thumb against her cheek, a tear that could belong to either of them against her skin.

“I love you so much.” She says, her hand cupping his cheek, the cold metal of her engagement ring against his skin. “Thank you for loving me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he replies, cupping the back of her head, “you don’t have to thank me. It feels like I was made for this, for loving you.”

She isn’t sure if she laughs or sobs at that, her fingers delicate against his cheek. “I’ve already agreed to marry you honey, you don’t have to carry on trying to woo me.” She leans into him, his chin tucked on top of her head as she buries herself into his embrace. “Can we do it soon?”

“Get married?” He asks, kissing her forehead.

She nods against him. “Yes. We’ve both done the big wedding thing,” she pulls back to look at him, a soft smile on her face, “and I just want to be your wife. Move in with you and Jack. Start our lives together.”

“I’d like that too.” He kisses her again, and she thinks he might never stop, she hopes he doesn’t. “Now, before they left Penelope had Jason cook something for us, I’ve been told it’s just in the kitchen being kept warm.”

“I can’t believe she kept this a secret from me.” Emily says, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. “She’s terrible at keeping secrets,” she thinks for a second, “she’s been avoiding me for weeks. I thought I was imagining it because I’ve been tired from work.”

Aaron smiles at her. “She told me it was killing her. I think if I didn’t do it tonight she might have killed me.” He kisses her once more before he pulls away, moving towards the kitchen. “I don’t have wine, Penelope doesn’t have a liquor licence, but I do have coffee.” He calls back over his shoulder, and she slips into the booth, their booth, and she laughs.

Coffee. The thing that brought them together.

“Coffee is perfect.”

___

Emily looks around the apartment, everything the same way it was when Penelope first let her move in just under a year ago. All of her things were at Aaron’s now, ready for her to finally go home with him that evening, the month since he had proposed to her disappearing into what felt like nothing. The only items left that belonged to her were the white knee length dress she was wearing, her shoes and her purse.

“You ready to go, Em?”

Emily turns to see Penelope standing in the doorway, a smile on her face that she cannot help but return.

“Yeah I’m ready.” She turns back and looks in the mirror once more, running her hand over the material of her dress before she leaves the bedroom.

“Good,” Penelope replies, still smiling, “because two very handsome Hotchners are waiting downstairs for you. Wait until you see how cute Jack looks in his suit. I could eat him up.”

Emily huffs out a laugh and nods. “He was very excited about it when I saw him yesterday.”

Penelope’s eyes shine as she looks at her, pulling Emily into a tight hug that she can’t help but return just as fiercely. “You look beautiful.”

She feels her own throat tighten, tears pressing at the back of her eyes that she refuses to let fall yet, knowing she wouldn’t be able to make it through the day without crying.

“Thanks, Pen.” She pulls away enough to look at her friend, a soft smile on her face. “For everything. I don’t think I would have gotten through any of it without you.”

“No need to thank me at all, it’s what friends do,” Penelope says, smiling at her before clearing her throat and stepping back, “now, just because you don’t work here and won’t be living here anymore doesn’t mean I don’t expect to see you all the time. You and those boys of yours will always be welcome here.”

Emily laughs. “Of course,” she wipes at her cheeks, the tears already falling despite her best efforts, “we’re coming back here afterwards, Aaron said something about celebratory pancakes.”

“I have trained that man of yours well,” Penelope says, linking arms with Emily as they walk towards the door of the apartment, “now, let's get you downstairs so you can go get married.”

___

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Aaron asks, his hand squeezing hers as they wait for their turn, the courthouse busier than they thought it would be.

Emily can’t help but smile at him. He’d asked her more times than she could count since he’d proposed. He was concerned, despite her reassurances, that somehow she was missing out on something by getting married this way. She looks down to Jack, the little boy distracted, and she presses a quick kiss to Aaron’s lips.

“I don’t need a big wedding, I just want to be your wife.”

Aaron smiles at her, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “I want that too. So much.”

“Emily?” Jack asks, looking up at the two of them, his eyes wide and curious. She places the hand that wasn’t wrapped up in Aaron’s on the little boys shoulder.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“You’re coming home with us later right?”

She smiles at him, her hand moving to cup his chin. “Yes. We’re going to the diner after this for a little bit, then home.”

“And you’re staying forever?”

“Yes, baby,” she replies, unable to help how her smile widens further, “forever.”

“Aaron Hotchner and Emily Doyle?”

Emily and Aaron both to the woman who had called their names, raising their hands to indicate they were present, and they walk into the room they were directed to.

They sign their marriage certificate with the pen he once bought her as a gift, their future starting with a talisman of their past.

___

Aaron manages to successfully distract her as they get out of the car, ensuring that she doesn’t see the ‘closed’ sign on the door of the diner, leading her inside with his hand against her lower back.

“After you, Mrs Hotchner.” He says, holding the door open for her, happiness blooming in his chest as she smiles at him.

“Thank you Mr Hotchner.”

Emily steps into the diner and stops on the spot, taking in the sight in front of her. JJ, Penelope and Spencer were all standing together, grins on each of their faces. Dave and Derek were sitting in the booth they had declared as their own since they became regular fixtures in the diner. There were no other customers, just the people her and Aaron had come to recognise as their family, the people who had helped them through the worst of it, and were now here to celebrate the best.

“What’s going on?” She asks, turning to look at Aaron, a smile on his face that lets her know he wasn’t surprised like she was.

“Well, your husband,” Penelope says, stepping forward towards them, “suggested that we all got together to celebrate, given that you aren’t having a big wedding. It seemed right to do it here where you guys both first met.” Emily looks back at Aaron and smiles, unable to stop herself from stamping a kiss against his lips, doing it again when she hears Derek and Dave groan in fake disgust. She pulls away and smiles at him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Yes, we get it,” JJ says, smiling as she walks towards them, linking arms with Emily and pulling her away from Aaron, “you’re in love. It’s very adorable. But, Pen and I want to hear all about it.”

Emily looks back at Aaron and winks as she’s dragged away, and he returns it, him and Jack going to sit with Dave and Derek in the booth.

“Congrats, Hotch.” Derek says. “How does it feel?”

“The same as before, somehow completely different at the same time.” He answers honestly, unbidden happiness coursing through his body, something he hadn’t felt in years since he first married Haley.

“What about you Jack?” Derek asks, looking at the young boy. “You excited for Emily to move in?”

Jack nods enthusiastically. “So excited. She’s so fun.”

“Your dad thinks so too.” Dave quips, not even wincing when Aaron kicks him under the table. Dave just smirks at him and pulls a bottle of scotch out of seemingly nowhere, opening and pouring measures into the empty water glasses on the table.

“Dave,” Aaron says, his eyebrows furrowing, “Penelope doesn’t have a liquor licence.”

“Oh Aaron,” Dave says, continuing to pour the scotch as if he hadn’t spoken, “it’s a special occasion, and we’re cops. Who’s going to say anything?”

He looks back and forth between Dave and Derek who both smirk at him, and he picks up his glass raising it to clink against theirs, Jack doing the same with his empty one.

“To the Hotchners.” Dave says, and Aaron looks over to where Emily is standing, their eyes meeting across the room. He smiles at her, feeling nothing but love when she smiles back, and he looks at Dave again.

“To the Hotchners.”

___

Spring 1965

“I miss Emily.” Jack pouts, making Aaron smile, his tactics in trying to stay up late well known.

“I know you do, buddy.” He says, encouraging his son to lay down as he pulls the covers up tighter around the little boy. “But you know she works late sometimes, she’ll be here when you get up in the morning.”

“I want her to read me a story.” Jack complains, as if his eyes weren’t already drifting shut, the exhaustion that had been clear for the last couple of hours finally taking over.

“I read you a story.” Aaron replies, a copy of Owls in the Family still in his hand.

“Em’ly does it better.” The little boy replies, his words slurring, eyes finally staying closed.

“I know she does.” He says, even though his son was already asleep. He presses a kiss to Jack’s head and quietly leaves the room, careful to close his door softly.

Aaron walks downstairs, checking on dinner as he passes the kitchen, knowing his wife would be hungry the moment she got home. He’s barely had a chance to sit down in the living room when the front door opens.

“Hi,” he calls towards the front door, smiling as he can hear her going through her usual routine, her shoes likely just abandoned where she removed them, the sound of her coat unzipping, “you just missed Jack, he was trying to wait up to see you, but sleep won out.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up before him in the morning,” she replies, sounding weary. She comes into view, and she looks just as exhausted, more so than usual, and something about it sets him on edge. “I know he likes it when I wake him up.”

She sits down on the couch next to him, her head immediately leaning back against it, her eyes closed. He reaches out and puts his hand on her leg, the starchy material of her uniform rough against his palm. She turns to look at him, a sad smile on her face.

“Are you ok?” He asks, concerned, running his hand up and down her clothed thigh.

“I’m ok.” She says, her smile wavering slightly, her chin wobbling. “Long day.” She chokes out.

He moves towards her, wrapping his arms around her, the same sense of relief he always got when she melts into him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Want to talk about it?”

“There was a patient tonight. Bruised ribs, a black eye.” She looks up at him, her lips set in a grim line. “Said she fell down some stairs but I’ve seen those injuries before,” her eyebrows crease together, “I’ve had those injuries before.”

He says nothing, but tightens his grip on her, presses his lips against the top of her head, waiting her out like he always did.

“I can go…days without thinking about him now.” Emily says, tears gathering in her eyes. “But there’s always something,” she shakes her head as if angry with herself, “he’s always going to be there isn’t he? In the back of my mind.”

“Sweetheart, I wish more than anything I could undo it all for you.” Aaron says, his hand cupping the back of her head. “I would do anything to make it better.”

She smiles at him, leaning up to kiss him, her forehead pressing against his when she pulls away. “You do make it better.”

“Emily?”

The conversation is cut short by a little voice from behind them, and they separate to see Jack standing behind there, his hair ruffled and his favourite toy in his hands.

“You should be sleeping, Jack.” Aaron says, his voice as stern as he was ever able to make it with his son.

“I heard Emily.” He replies as if that was a decent answer, and Aaron hears Emily laugh next to him.

“Come over here, sweetie.” Emily says, her arms stretched out. Jack doesn’t need telling twice, bounding across the room as if he had never been asleep at all and landing on the couch, immediately wrapping himself up in Emily’s arms.

She presses a kiss to his head and hugs him back just as fiercely. She leans back onto Aaron, his arms coming around them both.

“I missed you today, Jack.” She says, holding him a little tighter.

“I missed you too.” He replies, leaning back to look at her, his sleepy smile becoming a frown as he tilts his head, his hand coming up to touch her cheek, her tears still present. “You sad, Emily?”

It takes everything in her to not immediately start crying again, this little boy's tender affection clearly learnt from his father, and she smiles at him. “I’m ok, baby.”

He furrows his brows, and it makes her stomach clench because he looks so much like her husband. “You sure?”

She tickles him, pulling out the smile she desperately wanted to see. “I’m sure. How could I be sad when I have you and your dad?”

Jack looks like he’s thinking about it for a moment, a serious look on his face, before he nods, seemingly finding her explanation acceptable. He leans back into her, snuggling into her chest.

“Love you.” He says, and she can’t help but smile, turning her head to see the same look on Aaron’s face that she’s sure is on hers.

“I love you too, Jack.”

___

Summer 1965

Emily was trying to breath through it, the uneasiness in her stomach not dissipating no matter how hard she tried. It was Aaron’s fault, she was sure of it. His insistence on eating from a new restaurant downtown that she was unsure of from the start, and now she knew she was right.

It had made her sick.

“Are you ok, Hotchner?”

Emily turns from where she’s standing, leaning against the sink in the staff bathroom, smiling as she sees her colleague.

“I’m ok, Tara.” She answers, blowing out a breath. “I think my husband might have unintentionally given me food poisoning.”

Tara raises an eyebrow at her. “Are you sure that's it? You looked pretty sick yesterday too, you looked like you were going to blow chunks all over that patient.”

Emily flushes at that, having always been proud of her sturdy stomach, a necessity in her line of work.

“I did not.” She denies, narrowing her eyes at Tara when she laughs at her. “I’ll be ok.” She turns to look back at herself in the mirror, adjusting her hair.

“As long as you’re sure.” Tara says, clearly not believing her at all. She turns to leave the bathroom, propping the door open with her hand, before she throws a comment over her shoulder, unthinking as she walks away. “You’re not pregnant are you?”

Emily shakes her head as her friend leaves, her gaze back on her own reflection.

“I wish.” She mumbles to herself. She meets her own eyes in the mirror and her heart skips a beat. “No.” She says out loud, even though she’s alone. “No.”

Her mouth falls open as she does the math in her head, trying to figure out when she last had a period, not able to fully pin it down. If she was honest the nausea had been going on longer than she would admit, but she was always able to put it down to something else.

Because this, this wasn’t possible.

“Fuck.” She whispers to herself, blowing out a shaky breath before she leaves the bathroom, half of her shift still left to go before she could confirm anything.

She’s distracted for the rest of the day, a smug look on Tara’s face that she strives to ignore.

___

She asks her doctor to do a test, not able to get the thought out of her mind once Tara planted it there, additional signs appearing that she was sure were in her head.

She doesn’t tell Aaron, can’t bring herself to get his hopes up when she knows it’s not possible. Something she had come to terms with a long time ago. Instead she tells him that she is just going for a check up, an excuse he seems to buy.

She’s so nervous her leg is bouncing, her anxiety unable to escape her body in any other way. The door behind her opens, the doctor entering the room in a rush, he’s already talking as he sits down opposite her.

“Well, I won’t make you wait Mrs Hotchner,” there's a smile on his face, his hands clasped in front of him on his desk, “you are pregnant.”

Emily stares at him, the words not registering at first, her chest feeling tight. “What?” She eventually stutters out.

He smiles at her again. “You’re pregnant.”

“No.” She replies, shaking her head at him and his smile falters. “I can’t be.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies, frowning, “is this not the news you wanted?”

“No, I literally can’t get pregnant.” She replies, shaking her head more fiercely, her leg bouncing even faster. “The test is wrong.”

“Mrs Hotchner,” he says gently, with sympathy in his voice, “I can assure you that the test is correct.”

“But…” she drifts off, tears immediately flooding her eyes, “I can’t.” She chokes out, her hand coming to cover her mouth.

The doctor clears his throat and tries a different tactic. “Why do you think you can’t have children, Mrs Hotchner?”

She uncovers her mouth, her hand shaking as it returns to her lap, the fingers of her right hand immediately playing with her wedding rings. A habit that had replaced her cuticle picking since Aaron had first put them on her.

“I’ve been married before,” she says, her voice shaking, “we tried for years and…there was never anything. Not even a thought that this was a possibility.”

He doesn’t flinch at the mention of a previous marriage, and she appreciates it, the man clearly non-judgemental, but she doesn’t tell him about the illegal abortion she’d had as a teenager. Not wanting to bring it up. Aaron was the only person alive who knew about it, and she wanted it to stay that way.

“Fertility is a delicate thing,” he says, smiling at her, “there’s no way of knowing why you and your first husband never conceived,” He shrugs, “it may well have been that he had a problem.”

Emily laughs, the sound escaping her before she can stop it and the doctor frowns again, and she apologies, sobering up. She unlinks her hands and gently cups her stomach, pressing against her shirt.

“I’m really pregnant?” She asks, finally allowing herself to believe it, suddenly wishing Aaron was here with her.

“You are.” The doctor confirms, his smile genuine. “Now, let's figure out how far along you are.”

___

Aaron calls her at the time he’d usually get home to let her know he would be late, that the case he was working on needed urgent attention. She hopes he doesn’t hear her disappointment down the line, the need to tell him her news, their news, the only thing she’d been able to think about since she left the doctors office.

She gets Jack into bed, allowing him to strong arm her into a second story, the little boy able to talk her into just about anything. She sits on his bed until long after he’s fallen asleep against her, and she can’t help but wonder what her future will look like with Jack and the baby growing inside of her. Eventually she sneaks out from underneath him, pulling the covers up tighter around him and kissing his forehead before she leaves the room.

She settles on the couch with her favourite book, the words not sinking in as she finds herself unable to focus, her hand pressed into her abdomen. She desperately tries to stay awake, wanting nothing more than to speak to her husband as soon as he’s home. She doesn’t even realise she’s fallen asleep until he presses a kiss to her forehead. She opens her eyes, blinking against the tiredness that had apparently overwhelmed her.

“Hey,” she rasps, sitting up enough that he could join her on the couch, “you’re home.”

Aaron chuckles against her hairline as she snuggles into his side, his arms wrapping around her. “I’m home. Are you ok?” He asks, his hand coming to rest on her forehead as if checking for a temperature. “It’s not like you to fall asleep on the couch.”

“I’m ok.” She answers, tilting her head so it was resting on his shoulder and she was looking up at him. “How was work?”

He sighs, his head resting back on the couch as his hand runs up and down her arm. “Long. It was a rough day.”

She doesn’t push, knows he will talk to her about it eventually. It was something they had in common, the need to process something alone before they brought it to each other.

“I think I can make it better.” She says gently, biting her lip to stop it from wavering, love and happiness building in her chest, ready to pull her under in the riptide of emotions.

“You always make it better.” He replies, pressing his lips to her forehead. She takes a deep breath, tries to ground herself before she says the words she knows will change everything, making sure she can see his face so she can watch it sink in.

“I’m pregnant.”

At first she’s worried she’s spoken so quietly that he hasn’t heard her, because he doesn’t react. It takes a second, the longest of her life, but he suddenly lifts his head from the back of the couch, moving so they are both sat up facing each other, his eyes wide.

“What did you just say?” His voice is laced with wonder and anticipation, as if he can’t quite allow himself to believe it’s real.

She smiles at him, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “I’m pregnant, Aaron.”

There’s another pause, a beat of silence, and the next thing she knows she’s pressed up against his chest, his arms tight around her and his lips against the top of her head. She wraps her arms around him too, her fists grasping at his shirt.

“Emily, that's…” he says, trailing off as he loses the words, overwhelmed by a moment he never expected to have, “that’s amazing.” He pulls back and looks at her, tears shining in both of their eyes. “I thought…how did you find out?”

She chokes out a sound that's somewhere between a sob and a laugh, leaning forward so her forehead was pressed against his. “I’ve been feeling off for a week or so, but I didn’t think it was possible so didn’t connect the dots.” She sniffs, tears finally falling onto her face. “Someone said something at work and I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so I got the doctor to do a test just to eliminate it and…the test was positive.”

“Em,” he pulls back, his hands moving to cup her face, “why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone with you.”

She smiles at him and it shakes, her chin wobbling as she tries to suppress the sob building in her chest.

“I just didn’t want to let you down.” She replies, shaking her head at herself. “You’re such a good dad, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Em, sweetheart,” he enthuses, his thumbs wiping tears away from her cheeks, “you could never disappoint me. Ever.” He kisses her quickly before pulling back. “Is everything ok?”

She nods. “Everything is great, the doctor estimates that I’m about 2 months along.” She snuggles back into him, wanting to be in his arms, the place she felt safest in the world. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

“I love you so much, Em.”

“I love you too.”

___

Emily sighs as she comes to a stop, her steps slowing, a certain amount of resistance as she reaches her destination. One headstone in a line of many, standing out with the lack of flowers, the lack of people who came to pay their respects.

“I…was planning on never coming.” She says as she stands in front of the headstone, Ian’s name carved into it, the stone already wearing slightly from lack of care, no one around to maintain his grave. “I don’t really know why I have.”

The summer breeze moves through her hair, almost tender in it’s touch. Gentle. Something she knew well now, affection given to her freely by Aaron. The very thing that the man lying beneath her feet had almost stolen from her forever.

“I’m pregnant.” She says out loud, laughing as the words leave her mouth, the joy at the news still as bright as it had been when she found out a week ago. “I’m having a baby.” She sobers, the laughter dying out as quickly as it had appeared. “You used to try and tell me I was broken. You tried to break me.” She clears her throat, shaking her head to stave off the oncoming emotions, not wanting to waste anymore tears on him. “But you didn’t. And now I get to be happy.” She frowns. “I’m almost sorry you never were.”

“Emily?”

She smiles, turning to see her husband standing behind her. She hadn’t told him that this was where she was coming, only telling him that there was something she needed to do before she left the house 30 minutes ago. A brief kiss against his lips as she walked out their front door. She’s relieved to see him, to know that he knew her well enough to know she’d come here. That she’d never ask it of him, but that she needed him there too. She reaches out a hand to him, beckoning him over, and he all but jogs over to her, his fingers immediately linking with hers.

“I’m ok.” She says before he can ask, leaning into his side. “I just…needed to come. Just once.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Aaron says, wrapping his arm around her, his hand gentle at her waist. “We can stay as long as you need to.”

Emily knows he means it. That he’d stand here with her at her first husband's grave, the man who had tried to kill them both, as long as she wanted to. She loved him for it, impossibly more than she already did.

“We can go.” She says after a few seconds, turning to look up at him. “I have everything I need.”

___

Spring 1966

He hadn’t missed how she’d grimaced all the way through dinner, one hand gripping her fork as she ate, the other pressed firmly into her bump as she spoke to Jack, listening as he talked enthusiastically at her about school.

The change in her expression had been small, unnoticeable to anyone other than him, but he’d seen it. The way her brow tightened momentarily, her jaw clenching as she stroked her belly, her skin tight across their child that laid underneath.

She was good at hiding her pain, his Emily.

Her pregnancy had been smooth, the months passing by quickly, lost in amongst their day to day life. Her smile grew as she did, the anxiety she had around the early days of being aware of her pregnancy fading as time went on. Aaron loved to lay next to her at night, his hand rubbing circles on her stomach as their baby shifted below his palm, sleep escaping both of them as they thought about the future. He’d miss it, this stage of their lives, but he was excited for what would come next.

She was due any day, and based on the timings of the pain she was trying to pretend wasn’t happening, Aaron guessed she was currently in labour.

Emily reads with Jack in the living room after dinner, still the little boy's preference over his father, and Aaron calls Jessica, making sure it would be ok for them to drop Jack over at her house on the way to the hospital. Once he’s done, Jessica excited at the prospect of the baby being on the way, he walks into the living room, smiling as he looks at his family curled up together on the couch.

“Jack,” he says, his smile widening at his son when he looks up, Haley’s eyes fixed on him, “go upstairs and change into your pyjamas, grab a couple toys. You’re going to your Aunt Jessica’s.”

Emily sheepishly looks away, knowing she’s been caught out without anything else being said. Jack, enthusiastic about a sleepover with his cousins, doesn’t ask any more questions and practically flies up the stairs.

Aaron looks back at his wife and joins her on the couch, his hand reaching out for hers. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” She says, grabbing his hand a little too tightly despite her words.

“Em, you’re clearly in labour.” He says, unable to stop himself from smiling when she blushes. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I’m fine, I promise. This can last hours,” She grimaces, no longer able to cover the pain she was in, her hand gripping his tightly as she has another contraction, “and as soon as we get to the hospital they’ll make you stay in the waiting room. And I don’t want to be apart from you.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, tucking a finger under her chin so he could make her look at him, her face strained, “I know, ok. But I’ll be there waiting and I’ll come find you the second they let me.”

She stares at him. “You promise?”

He smiles and squeezes her hand a little tighter, linking their fingers properly. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

She shakes her head at him. “No, you haven’t.”

Aaron smiles encouragingly at her. “Then I’ll go grab your bag from upstairs, and then we’ll go to the hospital, ok?”

“Ok,” she replies, unable to stop the smile spreading on her face, “let's go have a baby.”

___

Aaron distinctly remembered Jack’s birth. He couldn’t believe it had been 8 years, and how much had changed in that time, his life completely different now as he, impatiently, waits for a nurse to come summon him. His body was all but vibrating with anxiety, as he wanted nothing more than to see his wife, meet their child.

He often thought about how Haley’s death is what had led him to Emily. Without that loss, that trauma, he never would have been on the night shift, never would have walked into the diner that held the love of his life in amongst bright pink lights and wipe clean furniture. It made him angry sometimes, what he and his son had lost, how he wouldn’t have what he currently did, Emily and their child about to be born, if Haley had lived.

There were days, when he was feeling particularly sentimental, that he liked to think that Haley had sent them Emily. The timing of their meeting exactly when it needed to be.

“Mr Hotchner?”

Aaron looks up to see the nurse who had led Emily to a room hours ago standing there, a smile on her face as she clasps her hands in front of her.

“Nurse,” he stands at such a speed he almost trips over, his nerves making him uncharacteristically clumsy, “is she ok?”

Her smile widens. “Why don’t you come with me and ask her yourself?” He nods in response, following her to the room where his wife was, the nurse coming to a stop outside the door. “She’s just in there. Congratulations.”

Aaron takes a second before he opens the door, taking in a deep breath as he walks in, preparing himself for what awaits him on the other side.

Despite his attempts, she knocks him breathless, just like she had every time he looked at her since the first time he saw her. She’s sitting in the hospital bed in a nightgown, her lap covered by the sheets. Her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, the same way it had been when she worked in the diner. It was the look on her face that stopped him in his tracks. Her eyes fixed on the bundle in her arms, their baby wrapped up in a blanket, nothing but love and happiness radiating off of her.

She’s never looked so beautiful.

“Hi.” He says, his voice cracking slightly, the weight of the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

Emily looks up at him, her smile somehow widening even further when her eyes meet his.

“Hi,” she says quietly, readjusting her old on their newborn, she tilts her head towards the baby, “come over here and meet your son.”

“It’s a boy?” He asks, his voice full of wonder. Emily nods in response, looking back down at their son, the way her eyes shine in the bright lights of the hospital room giving away her tears.

“It’s a boy.”

He’s across the room in seconds, gently sitting next to her on the bed as she adjusts the blankets around their son so Aaron could see his face.

He looked exactly like her.

“Oh sweetheart.” He says, his hand reaching out so he could run a knuckle down the baby’s soft cheek. “He’s beautiful.”

“He is, isn’t he?” She replies looking up at Aaron and smiling at him. He can’t help but lean forward and kiss her, his forehead against hers when they pull away.

“I’m so proud of you, Em.” He says, his hand coming up to cup her neck, his thumb gentle against her jawline. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She kisses him again before turning her head again to look at the baby, her temple against Aaron’s forehead. “I think the name we picked out works don’t you?”

“After your dad?” He asks, pulling away and looking at her properly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she nods at him. “I think it’s perfect.”

Emily beams at him before lifting the baby in her arms so she could press a kiss against his forehead.

“Welcome to the world Robert.” She whispers against his skin, his face scrunching up as his sleep was interrupted. “I know that might seem like a big name, sweet boy. But you’ll grow into it.”

“Bobby works for now.” Aaron says, looking down at their son.

“Bobby Hotchner.” Emily whispers, she looks back at her husband. “Do you want to hold him?”

Aaron immediately accepts the offer, gently shifting them in bed so he was sitting next to her properly, their shoulders overlapping as she leant back into him.

“Now we just need to think of a middle name.” Aaron says, as Emily passes him Bobby, the baby smaller than he remembered Jack ever being.

“About that,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder and watching the two of them together, unable to cage her happiness in her chest as Bobby wrapped his fist around Aaron’s finger, his hand so small it didn’t even make it all the way around. “I had an idea.”

“Oh, what is it?” He asks, not taking his eyes off of their son, trying to burn this moment into his memory, so he’d never forget a single detail of this.

“Aaron.” She says, her cheeks flushing slightly as he looks at her, his eyebrows furrowing. “That way,” she explains, tears pressing at the back of her eyes, her emotions getting the better of her, “he’s named after the two men who loved me more than anyone else ever has.”

He smiles at her, tears welling up in his own eyes, and he nods. “That sounds perfect, sweetheart.” He stamps a quick kiss to her lips and then turns back to the little boy in his arms. “Although after what you did today I’d probably let you suggest anything, even naming him after Dave.”

Emily laughs at that, resting her head back onto his shoulder. “I’d never do that to our son.”

“I love you so much, Em.” He says, the same seriousness to his voice the very first time he’d told her.

“I love you too.” She replies, her hand reaching out to stroke at their son’s cheek, as if she was reminding herself that he was real. “More than I thought was possible.”

The baby picks that moment to cry out, his tiny face scrunching up in protest of the outside world. It makes his parents chuckle, immediately soothing him.

“We love you too, Bobby.”

___

Summer 1966

Emily wakes up alone, something unusual to her these days. She groans as she sits up rubbing her eyes, the room still dark, dawn about to break. She reaches out a hand to Aaron’s side of the bed and is met by cold sheets, meaning he had been out of bed for a while. The bassinet next to her is also empty, and she smiles as she thinks of her baby boy and her husband, a sudden desperate need to find them flooding through her.

She stands up and stretches, leaving their bedroom quickly. She checks in on Jack, the little boy still fast asleep, worn out by the day before, the never ending fun of summer taking it out of him.

She walks down the stairs and yawns as she makes it to the ground floor, smiling when she hears Aaron’s voice floating out from the living room. She follows it and stands in the doorway, her eyes finding Aaron and Bobby immediately. Her husband is sitting on the couch with their son in his arms, slowly rocking him in an obvious attempt to get him back to sleep. She leans against the door frame so she can watch them together, and she listens as Aaron speaks to Bobby. She wonders how long they’ve been down here, her husband always keen to let her sleep whenever he could take over, knowing Bobby rarely lets her sleep through the night.

Sometimes she still couldn’t believe that this was her life, so different to how it was three years ago when Aaron first walked into the diner. A stranger who would end up being the most important person to her. Who would listen to her, not try to save her but help her save herself. Who loves her, in a way she had convinced herself wasn’t possible. Years of experience telling her that love like that only existed in Hollywood films or fairy tales, not her own home. But it was real, it was something she experienced every day, something that she gave back freely to her husband and their children. Happiness so sharp sometimes she thought it would bring her to her knees, a lifeline she now couldn’t live without.

She knows he’s spotted her, the smile reserved only for her spreading over his face, so she makes her way across the room. She joins him on the couch, snuggling up to his side as she runs her knuckles down their son’s cheek. Bobby fighting sleep in his fathers arms, the baby always wanting to be involved in everything, never wanting to miss a moment of the life around him.

Aaron turns his head enough to kiss her temple before looking back down at their son. Emily sits and listens as he tells the little boy about a warm summer's night, and how the need for a coffee changed his life.

The baby slowly falls asleep, under the watchful gaze of his parents, the first light of the day filtering into the room.

[robinrequiems]

Hey first date of cashier damian with a little butting in from the co workers and Gerald ?

co workers and gerald coming up

• Gerald TikTok is feralgerald

• so anyways.

• I’ll have 2 separate dates, but I feel like Gerald gets to see the first one and then I’ll do something special for the 3rd

—

Gerald:

• jon went to pick Damian up for their date, Damian had finally agreed to go on a date with Jon after months

• jon was excited

• it was Friday night, around 9 pm, Damian was gonna leave his shift early that night so they could go see a new movie

• damian and gerald were working that night

• jon was so hyped for the date, he came in with water lilys for Damian, he looked it up and one of the things it symbolized was hope and celebration. jon is celebrating the fact Damian finally said yes. Also damians favorite flower is water Lily’s

Jon: Dames!!

Damian: shut up, jon, im busy

Gerald: oh! look everyone! the two love birds are in the same room again.

Jon: restocking, you can pay attention to me! or am i just too distracting;)

Gerald: gosh jon reminds me of a young name.. Damian is like my first wife, a wild spitfire..

Damian: you’re too distracting because you’re a lunatic

• Gerald was on live ( Damian and jon both said they were okay with being filmed if it was something as mundane as them flirting talking, but if something else happened? nah

• jon and damian were both good kids Gerald loved to talk to, they were good for each other, too, Gerald noticed it the first time he met jon. he hoped they would stick around with each other

• damians shift soon ended and Damian fid a farewell to Gerald to go on a date with Jon

Gerald: don’t have too much fun out there, kids!!

Brad:

• saturday shift, Damian was going to go to breakfast with Jon before brad stopped then

Brad: oh oh oh oh wait a second! It’s not time for you to go yet, ian!

Damian: don’t call me that! It’s Damian, not *gag* ian

Brad: you did not answer my question 👀

Damian: we’re going to breakfast

Brad: five minutes early? why? it a special occasion?

Jon: it is! It’s our second date!

Damian: JON!

Brad: you two are dating and you didn’t tell me???????!

Damian: oh my god

Brad: cmere jon, * jon comes over * you’re a good kid, you gotta take care of Damian before he gets arrested for something dumb. but you also can’t hurt him. but I know Damian? he would probably hurt you more if you hurt him. But have fun!!

Jon:

Damian: what the fuck, brad

Rosa

• the woman was just bagging groceries up for a customer when Jon comes waltzing in

• damians shift started at 1, ( it’s Sunday ) jon was here at 11:45am

• rosa was confused until jon walked up to her

Jon: I need help

Rosa: uh, sure, sweetheart, what’s up?

Jon: I need to ask Damian out to homecoming..

Rosa: awww!

Jon: I have a big idea! I got these fake water lilys from Amazon.. and I wanna.. like set them up to spell out: will you go to homecoming with me?

Rosa: that sounds perfect!

Jon: can you help me? I just need a area to do it

Rosa: of course, come on, you can do it in the break room

• so jon set it up

• but he spelt it wrong: can u come to homcoming

• damian still said yes and laughed a lot

—

But here’s a small one shot of their first date that isn’t completely finished but:

Once the duo left the store, they headed out to Jon’s car, both of them flushed red in excitement. Damian had gotten changed quickly into the outfit he had brought for this date, even putting extra time and effort into his appearance. Look, if he’s going out, he’s going allllll out.

Jon found Damian absolutely stunning, he’s always stunning, but he’s extra stunning today. After months of flirting and breaking through Damian’s exterior, he finally got the chance to take him out. On a date. Not like.. killed.

( “Can i take you out?” Jon asked quietly as he parked the car in front of Damian’s apartment, blue eyes shining with hope before Damian slapped him.

“What the fuck! No?! You’re not killing me!”

“NO. That’s not— OW! That is not what I meant..”

“What did you mean?”

“On a date..” as soon as those words left Jon’s lips, Damian’s heart stopped, sure Jon has asked a lot, but this time was really different.. Damian knew he looked like he just ate a hot chilly pepper, so all he did was nod. He nodded really hard, he knew that if he spoke, he would sound like an idiot. )

Damian was fidgeting s lot, tapping his fingers on his thighs, messing with the silver rings on his fingers.. until Jon took his hand.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s just me, it’s just like we’re hanging out. But romantically,” Jon laughed, his laugh was so so so pretty. Damian couldn’t believe someone like Jon would like him. Damian had heard Jon complain about the countless girls and boys asking him out at school, he also learned that Jon hated turning people down so it was always awkward. Why did Jon even settle for him? He didn’t know.

But Jon drove them to the movies and got out, opening the door for Damian.. because what else would you expect? And then they walked in to get the tickets. They watched the movie together, got dinner together, and walked around until Jon took him back to his apartment.

“I had fun,” Damian finally spoke for the first time since they entered the car.

“Me too, can we do it again?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

Damian opened the car door before shutting it and leaning over the console to peck Jon’s lips quickly before he got out, slammed the door shut, and then ran inside, leaving Jon red and grinning like a mad man.

[rattlerinthewheel]

My thoughts during and after 11x14, not in chronological order.

(Spoilers.)

Huh, haven’t seen that “this show is rated TV-MA for violence, etc.” in a few episodes, I wonder what’s in this that—oh, that’s why. Oh, that too. Seriously, the thump of the CIA agent hitting the ground and how he went out was brutal. In a good, TWD way. Good on Aaron for not letting that generic-brand Ewan McGregor monologue.

I like Annie and her group. I know new groups getting crammed into a final season seems like a bad thing but like Maggie says, she’s come across a lot of groups over the years. I like seeing smaller pockets of survivors that are only around for an episode or two.

Hershel pulling a gun on Negan—didn’t see that one coming. Good way to show Negan having actual remorse about Glenn. Him telling Hershel to see him in a few years and they’ll settle things makes me think about Carl visiting Negan in the comics. Can see a similar thing happening here.

I like how what Annie says to Maggie (can’t remember word for word) about how they’ve all done wrong seems to stick. I know Maggie got shit from the viewers for giving Negan shit about things and then going and doing nearly the same thing (like not helping the kid in the train car, after she’s mad at him for not helping her up), but I think what Annie says helps that weird characterization come full circle.

The little shit Sebastian continues to be a little shit. Said “oh shit no” when he brought up the kids. Though, I kind of like how it’s a sly misdirect: you think he’s about to threaten them when he was really about to offer to make their lives easier. I don’t blame Daryl for pulling a knife and thinking the worst, I did too, and for all we know Little-shit-ian was lying about not threatening anyone. He hasn’t had to really survive though, doubt he’s killed, so it kinda shows another difference between the sheltered “survivors” and ours.

“It’s a date.” In real time I thought ah, the Caryl fans are going to go rabid. I’m either/or on them getting together. I prefer my non-canon m/m but as for canon, Caryl or Donnie.

Headcanon for Daryl’s pick of donut pre-apocalypse: powdered jelly or apple fritter, something messy. Any Georgia-specific types I might not know about that could fit?

So Mercer’s probably the head of the resistance by helping Daryl and Rosita and popping Grunt 1 and 2 to hide the money?

Suspect that six months later scene from earlier has something to do with Annie’s group. Maggie houses them, Discount Rob Lowe Thornsby finds out, Daryl either tries to play peacekeeper or is a double agent (for Maggie, of course).

So Leah’s returned. Maybe it was the outfit but I was getting Last of Us 2 “Abby” vibes from her. Wonder what’ll go down with her and the gang. Kills one of the semi-main characters, maybe, and Daryl or Maggie take her out?

Hi I’m rattlerinthewheel, thanks for coming to my TED Talk. This was a good episode and I’m feeling talkative.

[liusaidh-writing]

Call it True - Chapter 3

[Prefer AO3?]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Here is Chapter 3! I am sorry it’s so late. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy. Chapter Four is on its way soon, too!

*****************************

Claire and Jamie exchanged texts and phone calls in the following days and nights. Unable to connect in person, they did what they could to remain close. Claire's night shifts ended after a week, and she was relieved to be back in the world of daylight once again. She also hoped this meant she and Jamie could get together again. And soon. 

I'm free! Well, until my time rolls around again, anyway. Next two days off, and not a single thing planned!

She hit send with a grin and imagined what she and Jamie might do on her time off. Go to dinner? Watch a movie, preferably curled up on a couch. What movies did he like? She started compiling a list of possible options while she rode along in Lesley's car after her final night shift had ended in the early morning hours. They’d picked up a grumbly Harry at the sitters before heading to Claire’s flat.

Lesley, in the driver's seat, reached back to grab Harry's snack cup before it was flung to the floor by a frustrated toddler.  The car swerved slightly as she turned back in her seat, causing Claire to gasp before Lesley set it right again. 

Lesley thrust the snack cup at Claire, snapping, "Did you not hear me? I was asking you to grab it from him! Where's your mind been these last few days, anyway?" 

Claire grasped the cup in her hands, dropping the phone in her lap. "Sorry! I just...didn't hear you! I’d rather the snack cup take the hit next time instead of us!" 

"You're sitting right next to me, and unless you've gone deaf in the last ten minutes, you're just not paying attention," Lesley said in a sing-songy voice, ignoring Claire’s comment regarding her driving, but making an obvious effort to keep her tone light. She sighed, flipping the wipers on to clear the windshield of mist. It was annoyingly rainy, only a mere drizzle, but oddly cold for a spring morning. "Feels like winter outside, does it not," she remarked, attempting to change the subject.  

"Yep...pretty cold." 

Claire's mind wandered back to Jamie in the sweater he'd worn on their date. It had looked so cozy, and Claire wondered how it would feel on her. She blinked rapidly, forcing herself back to the present.

"So, you had been telling me earlier about...custody?" 

Lesley sighed, grudgingly answering Claire's question. 

"Yes...I told you everything, but you were off in lala land half the time. Not surprised you don't remember. If you're here with me now, I'll tell you again."

"Yes, please, I'm really listening." Claire shoved her phone between her leg and the seat, hoping that having it out of sight would help her stay focused on what her friend was saying. 

"Well, Frank has decided he wants full custody of Harry. Make me some kind of weekend Mum." Lesley gritted her teeth thinking about the very idea of it. "Like he's capable of taking him on full time," she said, gesturing at Harry in the back, who'd fallen asleep. “He wouldn’t last an hour before he was calling me, begging for help.”

"He doesn't have grounds, surely! He can't just...make stuff up!" Claire was indignant, knowing how great of a mother Lesley was, and how perfectly lousy Frank was at everything from keeping Harry fed when he had him to keeping promises to Lesley about drop off times. 

Lesley shook her head and rested her left elbow on the car door as they sat at a stoplight. "It's absolutely insane. He thinks because he makes more money that he should have Harry. That my schedule at the hospital isn't 'suitable for a toddler.’  He's just making sure I waste my money on legal fees fighting him instead of spending it on taking care of Harry so I'll look bad," she finished, glancing at Claire with an incredulous expression. 

"Well, you know I'll do anything to help, Lesley!" 

They had reached Claire's building, and as Claire got out she reached back and lightly ruffled Harry's hair, giving Lesley a smile and thanked her for the ride. She grabbed her things and headed to her door, feeling her phone signal that she had a text message as she walked. She quickly unlocked her door, slung them to the floor and hungrily unlocked her phone to see a message from Jamie waiting to be read.

Good to hear, Sassenach. I suppose you’ll need to go home and sleep. How about I come by later this evening? 

Claire quickly sent a reply and beamed at...well, no-one. She locked her door and dreamily waltzed to the shower, eager to strip off her scrubs and wash the night away.

“Jamie and I are hanging out tonight!” she squealed, raising her arms in victory over her head. She gave a little twirl as she moved past her bedroom. Taking off her top, she flung it on her bed. Claire felt like a teenager - she was sure her cheeks were pink and her mind raced with all the possibilities of the evening. She nearly replied to Jamie that she didn’t need to sleep, but...that wasn’t true. She was dead on her feet and her shift last night had been especially brutal with several stressful patients. She sighed,  realizing she deeply regretted not having made the effort to really meet Jamie earlier. Why had she wasted so much time? Now that they were friendly, she couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind.  Lesley hadn’t been wrong when she’d said Claire had been in la-la land. She reminded herself to thank Lesley for saving her ass more than once at work in the past week. If it wasn’t Jamie’s calls or texts, it was her own imagination getting her in trouble. Over the phone, Jamie had told her all about his family, his nieces and nephews and sister. He had a best friend named Ian, who happened to be his brother-in-law. And a father he clearly cared a lot about. Claire had never known that sort of reality, growing up as she had. She revelled in Jamie’s stories of his boyhood, clinging to bits of him that he unknowingly exposed.

For instance, Claire was sure that Jamie was secretly in love with his father’s farm, though he had claimed he didn’t care to run things when the time came, that he’d gotten his flat in the city to escape that reality. He talked of it with such pride, and Claire wondered why he didn’t live there full time, as much as he was there. It held fond memories of his mother, and it was his connection to his extended family, and she knew family meant a lot to him. 

She couldn’t exactly relate - though she had loved her uncle a great deal - but it was almost surreal hearing about hectic holidays or birthday celebrations Jamie got to experience growing up. Claire was rather envious at times.  Her holidays usually involved Uncle Lamb flat-out forgetting them, and though he always remembered her birthday, he wasn’t the greatest at remembering to mark the date in any meaningful way other than a sweet ‘Happy Birthday, darling,’ and a pat on the cheek.  She quickly made a mental note to ask Jamie about his birthday sometime. 

Pulling back the shower curtain, she sighed as the steamy hot water washed away the night at the hospital; it succeeded in making her drowsy enough to fall quickly asleep. 

---

Claire woke to a rather loud knock at her door. She rolled out of bed, hair all akimbo, eyes squinting as she opened her room darkening curtains. Padding towards the door, she quickly wrapped herself in the throw from the couch before turning the knob. There stood Jamie, a slight smile on his face that immediately fell when he caught sight of her. 

"Oh God--" 

"I'm sorry--" 

They both spoke at the same time, Claire wrapping the blanket more securely around her shoulders.  She had shorts and a small tee-shirt on, but no bra.  She began to speak again, wondering if she looked as horrible as she feared. Jamie grimaced and took a breath. 

"I am so sorry, I didn't wake you did I?" 

"Oh, no. It's fine, really! I must look frightening..." Claire carefully took one arm out of her wrap and tried to smooth her hair in an attempt to calm her curls. 

 "NO! You look...stunning!"  His eyes were wide, as though he’d seen a ghost.

 "Oh, God no.  Would you like to...?" 

She gestured him inside, and quickly caught that he was holding a few things in his hands.  A wad of blankets and a small thermal lunch bag were clutched in his arms as he shuffled inside. 

"Let me just...go change. Have a seat, will you?" She moved towards her bedroom as she watched Jamie sit on her sofa, placing his things on the cushion beside him. 

She closed her bedroom door, tossed the throw on her bed and leaned heavily against the door, her head making a distinct thumping sound as it hit. "Ow..." she muttered.  "Hope he didn't hear that..." 

She was jittery and her mouth was dry. He had that effect on her - one she couldn't put into words.  Her stomach was consumed by a swarm of butterflies as she got dressed, brushing her teeth and washing her face. She raised her arms over her head checking her armpits for odor, and swiped on some deodorant, finishing with a quick spray of her favorite perfume with a flourish. She didn’t dare go back out there smelling like a hospital. She wasn’t entirely trusting of the shower she’d taken.

Taking a few deep, but not-so-calming breaths, she went back out to her living room, where Jamie waited patiently, thumbing through a magazine on her coffee table. 

“I’m all for color in a room, but this shade of green makes me think of vomit.” Jamie was pointing at a photo of a painted room in some home decor article, curling his lip up in disgust at said shade of green.

He smiled at Claire, dropping the magazine and taking her in slowly, his eyes large and bright. 

Claire looked down at her outfit - Jeans and a warm, deep red top. She’d been told it ‘brought out her eyes’, whatever the hell that meant, so she figured it was a good choice. She smoothed her shirt down and gestured at the magazine.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that - I asked if I could paint when I moved in and was told no. Can’t wait to be able to live somewhere without blank white walls.” She waved haphazardly around the room, devoid of artwork, save for several of her own photos from various trips, and a few of Uncle Lamb, of course.

“It’s good to see you again, Claire.” Jamie stood up, moving towards her with his hand out. She wasn’t sure what he was going for, so she moved with him, meeting him in the middle. He clasped her hand in his, and they both paused for a moment, Claire watching his eyes dance as he gazed at her. He gave a small smile with one corner of his mouth, and quickly kissed her cheek. 

“It’s good to see you again, too,” Claire sighed, her breath coming out in spurts. She felt him relinquish her hand, and she glanced at it, half expecting it to be bright red the way it radiated his lingering warmth. He stepped back just a bit, and gestured to the items he’d brought with him.

“It’s a little wet outside, but there’s a free concert at the park. Would you like to come? If you don’t want to sit on the ground, I have chairs.” He raked a hand through his hair and tapped the fingers of his right hand against his thigh. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her.

Jamie’s voice was shaky with nerves, and Claire quickly tried to put him at ease.

“I don’t mind the ground!” She figured Jamie could offer her spikes to sit on and she’d accept them if that meant he’d be there, too. “Let’s go, it’ll be fun!” 

Jamie nodded, picking up the blanket and lunch bag. “Brought some goodies for us to snack on, too.” 

“Oh, good. I’m starving! Haven’t eaten all day!” 

Claire grabbed her purse as they walked to the door together, slinging it over her shoulder and grabbing her keys from the counter. She didn’t know what kind of music would be playing at this concert, but she didn’t care in the slightest. She was also rather eager to find out what was in that lunch bag. Her stomach gurgled, and she made a face as Jamie hid a smile.

He took her hand again, pulling her toward the door and out into the damp night. It was about 7 in the evening, and though the days were getting longer, the rain clouds obscured any remaining sunlight. 

-----

Having picked the driest bit of ground he could, Jamie spread out one warm wool blanket, gesturing for Claire to take a seat while he unfolded the other one. It was as large as the one they sat on, and doubly thick. Claire shivered slightly as she watched him swirl the blanket around her shoulders. He sat down next to her - quite closely, so she could feel the heat coming off him, and he wrapped the other half of the blanket around his own shoulders, meeting the two ends in the middle between them. It was cozy, and the band had just started. She looked around, wishing they weren’t surrounded by other people at the moment. Claire looked at Jamie - who had been casually checking out the band. He glanced at her, then reached for the lunch bag.

“What do you have for us?” Claire’s stomach growled again, and Jamie chuckled as he unzipped the bag while Claire held the blanket in place. 

“Erm...not much. Some crackers, cheese, grapes. A small bag of chips, if you’re in the mood for junk food?” He held the chips out to her and she hungrily ripped it open, popping one in her mouth with a satisfied grin. 

“Mmmm...so good. I’ve not had anything to eat since about 6 this morning. I forgot to eat when I got home from work.” Because you texted me, she added in her head, and I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep quickly so I could see you. 

Jamie went for a few grapes, munching them as he watched her devour the chips. She offered him one, holding it up to his mouth. 

“Have one!” she exclaimed, wiggling it in front of him.

He went for it, and she quickly pulled it away. She laughed as he pursed his lips in mock irritation. “Give me that,” he said, pulling her hand towards his mouth again, taking the chip between his teeth. His lips slightly brushed Claire’s finger tips, and a shiver traveled through her body as they laughed together. 

Their bodies were touching entirely now, from shoulder to toes, and Claire didn’t want to be anywhere else. She leaned against him, and he let her put her weight against his chest as he held the blanket with his left hand. His right arm wrapped around her waist. Claire felt flush, slightly feverish, silently basking in his glow. The rain was cold, the ground was colder, but she wouldn’t have known it with Jamie securely keeping them both comfortably warm.  

The band played on, the bass pulsing through her. She didn’t know the songs, but nodded her head with the beat periodically. For all the sound, though, her mind was somewhere else entirely. She wanted nothing more than to turn around, place her lips on his, and fall into him. She glanced at the people around her again, most of them chit-chatting, drinking, or eating. She felt him squirm slightly, and glanced back at him as best she could in her position. She felt his arm leave her side, make its way up her arm to her shoulder, and then into her hair. He played with her curls as he stretched one long leg out in front of them, where his boot got wet with rain. Claire’s hands were in her lap - she was entirely unsure what she should do with them, so she clutched her middle as the swarm of butterflies (more like angry hornets, if she was honest with herself) engulfed her middle. Her eyes fluttered closed as Jamie continued twirling her curls around his finger.

“Hey, Sassenach, are you thirsty? I could go get us some drinks at the food cart?” Jamie gestured with his head, back behind them where beer and soda was sold at an exorbitant price. 

Claire turned slightly and looked at him, his brows raised in question.

She took a breath, swallowing all her fear and uncertainty. The hornets in her stomach faded to a dull ache as she turned some more, raising her hands to his face.  She’d caught him off guard, and as her lips enveloped his own, he was still for a split second before deepening the kiss with his hand still in her hair, clutching her curls now, tugging slightly. Claire breathed in deeply, the noises of the band and people around them fading into oblivion, a fuzzy mirage at the corner of her vision as she closed her eyes, unwilling to break their connection. His tongue danced with hers briefly before he pulled away. Claire, with her eyes still closed, felt him rubbing her cheek with his thumb. 

“Oi, if we wanted to see that, we’d have gone to see a movie!” 

Claire’s eyes snapped open, her head whirling around to her right searching for the person that matched the voice. A young teenage boy smirked in their direction, sniggering a bit as she eyed him. He held a full pint of beer in one hand, and cocked his head, daring her to say something in return.

“He’ll break up with ya tomorrow,” the boy said, laughing with his mates, one of them slapping him on the shoulder in congratulations for his stupendous observation. Claire’s brow knit in confusion.

“Why don’t you-” she was cut off by Jamie, who stood up quickly, pulling the blanket that was around them up into a ball. He put it down, and stretched his arms over his head, making himself appear even larger. The kid with the beer blanched, spilling a bit in his lap as he involuntarily jerked away at Jamie’s stone cold glare. 

“Come on, Sassenach. Let’s go…” He gathered up the lunch bag, and offered her his hand. She took it, letting him pull her up. She was shivering now, his warmth having left her. She moved so he could pick up the other blanket, and they slowly picked their way through the crowd. 

Claire was surprised to feel her chin trembling a bit. Was she going to...cry? God, not now, she thought. How silly. It had just been a kid trying to stir up trouble for a laugh. It wasn’t funny, though, Claire thought angrily. It made her feel ashamed, but for what? She’d simply kissed Jamie. She held her breath for a moment, as she wondered if Jamie had minded that she’d done that - in the middle of the park, surrounded by people. She let her breath out again as she felt him grab her elbow and tug her closer. Perhaps he hadn’t minded afterall. He wasn’t making excuses to leave, anyway, she thought with some relief. 

She felt Jamie put her hand through the crook of his elbow as he guided her back towards their building. She still shivered, and Jamie pulled her in, their shoes meeting the pavement in unison. 

“Don’t worry about him, Sassenach.” 

Claire looked up when he spoke, gave a small smile, and leaned her head against his shoulder. 

“It’s ok…” she mumbled, wondering what the rest of the night would hold. She’d be up all night now, and didn’t particularly want her time with Jamie to come to an end. 

“How about we get that full meal in you? You must still be hungry,” Jamie offered. “Let me drop these things by my flat and we’ll go, yeah?” 

Claire nodded. “Sounds good, Jamie.” 

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

And onto the next chapter. Thanks for your support for this story, it means a lot to me.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

Hope you enjoy the next chapter

AO3

Previous

Chapter 8: From Dresses to Disco

I don’t have a huge wardrobe but, generally, I can lay hands on an outfit for most situations. For work, if I’m not in scrubs, I tend to wear plain black trousers and a shirt; for relaxing, I have more than enough jeans, leggings and comfy sweaters; for holidays, I have the usual range of shorts, t-shirts and sundresses.

I realise as I flick through the hangers in my wardrobe that what I am missing are outfits in the ‘dinner-dance-purely-platonic-plus-one’ category. And, what’s more, I don’t actually know how formal this thing is going to be.

Jamie was no use at all when I spoke to him about it.

“What sort of thing will your sister be wearing?” I asked as we met for coffee and a bacon sandwich two days ago.

“I dinna ken. A dress?” He hazarded a guess, looking a bit perplexed that I would even ask him.

“Long or short?” I persisted.

“Yes.”

“Well, which? Long or short?”

“Aye, one of them.”

“What are you wearing then... kilt? Black tie? Lounge suit?” This might give me a clue as to the dress code.

“I dare say I’ll be wearing a suit and tie.”

And that was as much assistance as I got from him.

I make the decision to go short. Partly because I don’t want to feel overdressed on Saturday, but mainly because the only long dress I have in my possession was purchased for a university Medics’ ball in 2008. And it’s crinkly satin with a side split and a wide leather belt that went with an over the top diamanté headband around my forehead.

Obviously, I will never wear it again, but I’m loath to part with it anyway. It reminds me of my time at university. Plus, it may come in handy… for a fancy dress party perhaps?

********

Geillis has decided, on the spur of the moment, to ‘jes’ pop ‘round fer a wee glass of wine’. That’s just a cover. What she actually wants is a ‘wee glass of wine’ while supervising my dress selection.

She takes a sip and reclines on my bed, casting a critical eye as I pull a few dresses out of my wardrobe and lay them next to her.  She’s not giving much away as she continues to study them.

“Well?” I stand at the end of the bed and stare at her, waiting for her comments.

“I canna give ye ma answer ‘till I’ve seen them all,” she replies.

“That’s it. That’s all my fancy evening dresses.”

She stares at me in disbelief, before gazing once more at the three dresses displayed on the bed.

“Ye dinna have any more cocktail dresses, then?”

I shake my head. “‘Fraid not. When I go cocktail drinking, I tend to wear something more casual. There’s not a great call for fancy frocks when it’s two for one cocktails at the ‘Slug and Lettuce’.”

She sighs very loudly and grimaces. We’ve had these conversations often enough over the years. She despairs about my lack of interest in fashion. It’s true, I can’t tell a Marc Jacobs from a Marks and Spencer. Well, I possibly could, but you get my drift. I tried to be fashionable back in 2008 and look where it got me— wearing a dress that resembled a sweetie wrapper with a headband that brought me out in a rash.

I sometimes wonder if the real reason that she has asked me to be a bridesmaid has less to do with being best friends and more to do with being able to control what I’m going to wear. I’m joking of course, it’s because we’re best friends— Geillis choosing my dress is just an added perk for her.

“So, I think ye wear this one.” She gets up, moves me to one side and quickly rifles through the wardrobe, giving a cry of triumph as she finds what she’s looking for.

I knew it—I knew she would remember that dress. She was with me when I bought it— a late night Sauvignon Blanc fuelled online purchase. She describes it as my “hello boys” dress. I’ve never worn it and this is not the occasion for its inaugural outing.

I mean, it’s a lovely dress— black with an off the shoulder bardot neckline and very, very form fitting. But totally not the message I want to send to Jamie.

I shake my head. “Nope… no way. Not that one.”

I point instead to a dress lying on the bed, originally bought for a hospital fundraiser last year. It’s very nice and infinitely more suitable— black with sparkly red splodges; a slight v neck and fitted bodice going into a flared skirt. It even has pockets.

Geillis raises her hands in exasperation. “Fine. Have it yer way. But, Claire, do ye no’ want tae mebbe try it?”

I grab the dress from her and stuff it back in the wardrobe, ignoring her last comment. But she doesn’t give up so easily.

“See what could happen, eh?”

I turn to face her. “I know what could happen. He’ll think that I’m after him and that I’ll be it. End of friendship.”

“But mebbe—“

I interrupt her. “No maybe about it. Besides all this is missing the point. I want Jamie in my life as a friend, the same way that you and Mary and Anna are in my life. I don’t want anything more from him. I don’t need any romance. Can you understand that?”

“Aye but—“

She’s still not willing to drop the subject and I’ve had enough. I drain my glass of wine and start to walk out of the bedroom.

“No buts. That’s it. Just drop it, please.” At the doorway, I pause. “Now, do you want another glass?”

She starts to follow me. “Of course. And sorry,Claire, I dinna mean tae annoy ye. It’s jes’—“ she stops herself before saying anymore.

“Ok... Shall we order a takeaway,then?”

As I head into the living room, with Geillis following, I’m pretty sure I can hear her muttering under her breath about taking chances.

***************

Jamie said he would pick me up at seven. I’m clearly still working on Frank time, as I’m ready with fifteen minutes to spare. I perch on the edge of a chair, trying not to crease my dress, smudge my mascara or run my fingers through my hair.

I must admit, I have enjoyed the whole formal dressing up process. It’s not something I do too often— my socialising tends to be of a more relaxed nature. But this makes a welcome change.

With five minutes to spare, the bell rings. I gather up my pashmina and clutch bag and make my way downstairs, my high heeled sandals making a clacking sound against the old floor tiles.

Jamie is waiting outside, next to his old french blue Triumph Stag sports car. Like he said, he’s wearing a suit—dark grey instead of his usual navy blue. Still with a white shirt and a rust coloured paisley tie. His auburn curls nestle against his jacket collar. He looks immaculate.

In a parody of a chauffeur, he touches his forelock, bows and opens the passenger door for me. “M’lady,” he adds with his customary half grin.

“Thank you, Parker,” I reply primly and arrange my skirt under me as he scoots around to the driver side.

I do like this car. It’s old, a bit threadbare in places and smells slightly of damp. But it positively oozes vintage style and glamour. Fortunately the hardtop is on as the clouds are gathering ominously overhead.

“I thought we were getting a taxi. Are you not drinking?” I ask as he starts to drive.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he snorts with laughter. “No’ drinking? What kind of rugby ‘do’ d’ye think this is? No, I’ll leave the car at the club and we can get a taxi, if that’s ok wi’ ye.”

We drive on in silence for a couple of miles. Not an awkward silence, just a we-don’t-really-have-to -make-small-talk kind of silence.

“I’d have thought you’d be wearing a kilt tonight.” I comment.

“Hmm, weel, I do like tae wear it fer special occasions, but, when the rugby lads get together, who kens what can happen. Trousers tend tae be the safer option.”

“You could always wear underpants,” I suggest.

He looks horrified at the suggestion. “Dinna be saying that tae a true Scot, Sassenach.”

“I consider myself suitably chastised.”

“Glad ye realise that.” He smiles and changes the subject totally. “Sae, on our table this evening, there’ll be ma sister Jenny and her husband Ian, and Rupert, ye ken Rupert, and his wife Morag.”

“Oh, so you know Rupert— outside of work, I mean.”

“Aye, we grew up together. And Ian too. Mind, he was a couple of years older than Rupert and me— same age as Jenny—and always used tae follow her around like a wee pup. I’ve only known Morag a couple of years though. She’s nice but verra quiet. She lets Rupert do most of the talking.”

“I liked Rupert.”

“He’s a great bloke. Best decision I made, asking him tae join me at FraserFoods. Ian’s a great bloke too. Ye’ll like him.”

Jamie pulls the car into the rugby club car park,  and switches the engine off. He sits still for a moment, staring through the windscreen. I can hear music coming from the large marquee lit up with lanterns and residing on one of the rugby pitches. Even though it’s early in the evening, there’s plenty of raucous laughter coming from that direction too. No doubt the bar has already seen plenty of action.

“Well?” I elbow him in the ribs.

“Sorry. I was jes’ thinking about how best tae describe Jenny.” He turns and smiles. “She’s the best sister a chap could want and a true friend— once she gets tae know ye. She can be a wee bit, shall we say, prickly, at first. And she thinks she kens what’s best fer me, as only a big sister can. She thinks ma life is no’ complete… no’ wi’out a wife and a couple of bairns.”

“Have you explained that this isn’t a date… that we’re friends?”

“Aye, I’ve told her that,” he gives a little laugh and nods his head towards the marquee.  “Sae she’ll most likely be in there right now scouring the place fer any suitable contenders.”

He gets out of the car and is at the passenger door before I’ve had a chance to unfasten my seatbelt and gather my pashmina around my shoulders.

“M’lady,” resuming the chauffeur role, he opens the door for me.

I clamber out, somewhat ungainly and wait as he locks the car. Even with my highest heels on, I still have to crane my neck to look at him as he stands up straight and adjusts his jacket.

“Shall we?” He gestures the marquee with his hand.

“God, yes. I could do with a gin and tonic. I’m parched.” Plus, I reckon I need a stiff drink or two down my throat before I meet Jenny. She sounds formidable.

“C’mon then.” And he leads the way into the marquee.

[wordsfromthesol]

Stalker

Author: @wordsfromthesol​ Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Warnings:  Language, kidnapping, happy ending per usual. Word Count: 1.8k Requested: @vvipgot7be​

A/N: P.S. No one could ever annoy me by sending requests. Or just in general, I’m pretty hard to annoy. Feel free to send messages, requests, or just say hi 😊

You knew you shouldn’t have kept them, but there was just something more eerie about throwing them away. Unfortunately, your decision blew up in your face one night when you got home from patrol. You were grateful for the slow night, but you could immediately tell something was wrong when you got home. Your eyes darted around the dark apartment, focusing on the beam of light coming from underneath the bedroom door. Slowly you walked over and opened it, relaxing a bit when you saw it was only Jason, only to tense up more when you saw what was scattered on the bed around him.

“What the fuck is this?” He questioned you, eyes transfixed on the various letters and photos laid out before him.

“It’s no big deal, really.”

“No big deal?! This is a photo of you stitching up a bullet wound. I’m not even going to start on why you shouldn’t have been doing that here.” Your eyes sank to the ground. “Oh and here’s one of you at the coffee shop…YESTERDAY. Unless you’ve worn that exact outfit to the coffee shop some other time.”

“I mean probably…but that is from yesterday.”

“And these letters? A sick combination of possessive admiration and death threats. Why haven’t I seen this before?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out. It’s fine, I can handle it.”

“Clearly, the oldest one I’ve found is dated 5 years ago.” Something clicked in Jason’s mind. “Wait, did this all start when you became a vigilante?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know that that’s the reason.” Jason sighed as he picked up another picture, it was you changing into your suit, and showed it to you.

“Believe me, I’ve seen it. But I only started getting costumed pictures of me like 2 years ago.”

“ONLY?!”

“Well I have been one for 5 years…”

“Just pack a bag. You are not staying here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Seriously Y/N. Ridiculous. This person describes kidnapping you, in great length and detail. You’re staying with me, I’m not arguing about this.” You sighed and dug through the box until you found a photograph of you at Jason’s apartment.

“It doesn’t really matter where I am. Remember about three when I stayed with you for almost a month straight?”

“Yeah…” Jason took the photo to examine it.

“That was when I got gotten a particularly bad letter, it just really stressed me out. Then I didn’t get anything for almost 2 weeks, but the creep is persistent.”

“Well then we are going to the Manor. Even if he knows you’re there, we have plenty of security. And you aren’t leaving until we figure out who it is.”

“Oh…I know who it is.”

“WHAT?!”

“Jay, I’m a vigilante too. Of course I looked into this. He’s just a nobody, nothing to worry about.”

“Those are the worst kind, you never know when they are going to snap. Listen, get your shit, we are going to the Manor. I’m calling Dick to arrest this guy.”

“You can’t arrest him, he hasn’t done anything.”

“These photographs and letters say otherwise. Now, let’s go.” Jason gathered the documents and put them back in the box, firmly tucking it under his arm.

**

It was still weird waking up in the Manor, even though you’d slept here dozens of times, it just felt big and empty. You stumbled downstairs, joining Jason and Tim in the kitchen.

“You have a stalker and didn’t tell us?” Were the first words out of Tim’s mouth.

“Don’t tell me Jason’s roped you into this. He’s a nobody.”

“Do you actually know that? How extensive did your search go?”

“Well I’m sure not as extensive as yours is about to,” you mumbled as you made your way to the coffee.

“You’re right, give me that.” Tim snatched the box from Jason’s clutches and headed straight for the cave.

“See what you’ve done?”

“Stopped you from getting kidnapped?” Jason’s voice went up a few octaves while his head tilted in response.

“Hm mm, well I’m giving you two days here. Then I’m going home. You are all being ridiculous.”

**

They may be keeping you from your apartment, but there was no way they could keep you from going on patrol. Before Jason could stop you, you suited up and headed for the door. Unfortunately, Jason did catch up with you in the garage.

“Are you crazy?”

“Jay, I’m completely geared up, on alert, and on comms. I think I’ll be okay on patrol. Besides, what is this dude going to do? Scour rooftops until he finds me?”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t put it past him. Some of the photographs were taken from some intense vantage points.”

“Stop being paranoid. I’ll get past you one way or another.”

“Fine. But if you don’t check in every hour, I will come looking for you.”

“Deal.” You were thankful that Jason didn’t try too hard to stop you. Mounting the bike next to you, you immediately headed for the Narrows. You needed to punch something or someone, and that would be the quickest place to find said thing.

You didn’t even make it that far. Someone ran you off the road soon after you left the cave. You swerved to avoid hitting a tree, causing you to flip over your bike, rolling down the hill until your head smashed into a rock.

**

“Do you know where Y/N is?” Tim questioned his older brother.

“She left like half an hour ago for patrol, I couldn’t stop her.” Jason explained.

“Well learning about this dude has been a trip. You know he’s on like 4 different antipsychotics…”

“Uhm, why would I have known that Timmy?”

“Well, it doesn’t look like he’s filled the prescriptions recently. By my calculations, he should’ve run out almost 3 months ago.”

“3 months…shit. I’m going to find her.”

“Keep your comms on.” Tim warned his brother.

**

You woke up in a bed, an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. If you could call it a room. The concrete walls encased you, no openings except a steel front door with a small slot.

“Oh my beautiful, you are awake! You know I was ever so worried when you did not go back to your apartment all day. I scoured Gotham and couldn’t find you. I decided it best to keep you safe. Where I always know you’ll be.”

“Ian? Is that you?”

“Well of course it is darling. Don’t be silly, who else would it be?”

“Right, how silly of me. Why don’t you come in so I can see your face?”

“In due time, now you need rest.”

You immediately tried to contact Jason on your comm, but all this concrete was blocking the signal. Looking around, you searched for any kind of opening or even something you could boost the signal with. No luck. Even the bathroom didn’t seem to have any ventilation.

“Ian?” You called out. “I would really love some water.”

“I will fetch some…as soon as you let me know where you’ve stashed my stuff.”

“Your stuff?”

“Oh yes, the letters and pictures. I did love going through them again and again. I went to look for them and well, they weren’t under your bed anymore.”

“Of course, I was planning to stay with a friend. So I simply brought them with me. I couldn’t leave such valuables unguarded.”

“You say that, but the last time you left you left you left for a month! A month and my love was just alone. Under that bed. Though I must thank you, I would not have made it through had it not been for them. That’s why when I found you gone again. Well I couldn’t let that happen. You’re mine. You know you’re mine. I humored your relationship with that BOY. But no longer. You. Are. Mine.”

“That’s all I want to be. How about I take to my friend’s and we can get them together.”

“No. You cannot leave. Tell me where they are.”

“Wayne Manor. It’s at Wayne Manor.”

“You showed them to HIM?!”

“Only, only to show him how much you loved me. So he would back off. I swear.”

“Good. Maybe the insolent creature got the hint. I will go retrieve them now.”

In a minute you were alone. You stuck your comm through the slot of the steel door, hoping to get any kind of signal. No luck. Signaling a continuous SOS, you attached it to one of your boomerangs and threw it through the opening.

“Jason is so going to kill me” you mumbled to yourself as you went through your equipment, trying to calculate a way out.

**

“Tim, did you get any hits on her location? I can’t find her or her bike anywhere.”

“Not yet. Everything is saying no signal. I’m going to try and get a piggy-back to boost the signal. Maybe she’s underground or something.”

“Where’s that Ian guy live?”

“I’ll send you the address on file, but Jay…he’s here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean security cameras just picked him up outside the Manor.”

“Get what you can out of him, I’m going to head to his house.”

Jason drove around the house a few times before deciding to enter. Well if this doesn’t scream creepy stalker, I don’t know what does. He carefully went room by room, looking for anything to indicate you were here.

**

You heard the sound of a door opening. No way Ian is back from the Manor that quick. Grabbing one of the small detonations you had laid out on the bed you pressed the trigger and threw it out the opening.

**

Jason heard a muffled blast. Even if it wasn’t you, something sketchy was happening. He went towards the sound and ended at a dead end. He searched around the room, when suddenly a door opened behind him. He saw your boomerang lodged into the door.

“Jason?” Tim called out over the comm.

“Did you get him?”

“You could say that. Uhm, I don’t think he’s going to be giving any information though.”

“That’s okay, I think I found her. Call Dick because if that bastard is there when I get back, I will kill him.”

“He’s already on the way –” Tim’s voice cut off as Jason entered the hallway.

“Y/N?” Jason called out.

“JAY! I’m here!” You called back, delighted to hear his voice. Jason raced towards you, ignoring the small hole in the concrete floor several feet from a steel bunker door. As the door creaked open you collapsed in his arms, mumbling against his chest, “If you say I told you so I will murder you.”

“Fine, but you owe me.”

You pulled back and looked at him, “And what do I owe you?”

“Well you aren’t living by yourself ever again, that’s for sure.”

You started laughing, “Alright alright. Now get me the fuck out of here.” Jason pressed a kiss to your forehead before leading you out of the bunker.

[renee-writer]

Without Remorse Chapter 5 First Real Date

AO3

“If I wear something slutty then it will look like I am expecting more.” She talks to Mary through video call as she goes over her outfit choices.

“First, showing a bit of cleavage is not slutty. Second, aren’t you, after what happened after your first date?”

“We are trying to get to know each other. Not just…” She pulls more clothes out of the closet, given Mary her back. Beet red, she doesn’t want to face her yet. Her thoughts have been on nothing else outside Jamie and how he makes her feel since they have parted. The urge to go knock on his door and finish what they started was barely kept back by common sense.

“Right. But I don’t think it matters what you wear, not with an attraction that strong.”

She is right. Even if she wears a long sleeve, high neck dress that goes down to the floor, if she owned such a dress, they would still be wanting each other. She picks up a pair of jeans and a button down shirt. Casual but dressy. Mary approves. “Hair up or down?”

Jamie doesn’t call Frank for advice on what to wear. After he announcement, his mate had gone silent before shouting, “The hell you say!”

“I mean it. You think me crazy, don’t you?”

“I do. Jamie I know that you believe in soul mates. That your dad said you would know her when you saw her, but..”

“But, that is all true. She is it.”

“Bugger that! If you had just got laid before now, you wouldn’t be confusing lust for love.” Frank is a few years older then him. He, Frank and, Ian had all been on the same footballer team in primary school. They grew up together and he was both a good mate and like a big brother to him. So, he takes his comment in that spirit.

“I’m not. You will see.”

Now, he slips his favorite blue button down shirt on. He had been told that blue brings out his eyes. He sooths his curls back with gel to try to keep them tamed, a spot on cologne before picking up the flowers he has for her, and he is ready.

He knocks at 5:59. She takes a breath and answers. They stare at each other for a minute. “Hello Claire,” he clears his tight throat. She is the most beautiful lass he has ever seen. “Ah, this are for you.” He holds out the bouquet.

“They are lovely Jamie. You didn’t have to.” She takes them and holds them up to her face, breathing them in taking his breath in the process. “I will just put them in some water. Would you like to come in?” He meets her eyes and that connection pulls on them both again.

“Depends,” His lips feel numb and his fingertips tingle. “on how hungry you are because I don’t think we would make it to dinner.” He tells her bluntly. She feels a kind of faintness, a feeling of almost disassociation. They both start breathing heavy and she matches her breaths to his. Not consciously but…

“I… we… ah…right, are to be getting to know each other. I will be right back.” She backs up into the small living room before turning and hurrying into the kitchen. Jamie stands still, breathing slowly in and out. Has he scared her? Well, she didn’t close and lock the door so that is a good sign. She returns a minute later. “Shall we?”

“I didn’t scare you? Sorry to have been so..”

“Honest? It is really okay. I feel it too, you know. Having spent the last twenty-four hours debating whether to go to your door, invite myself in and, finish what we started, I’ve no room to judge.” They are in the lift headed down. He swallows hard and stops it.

“I need to kiss you. May I?” He asks. She moves up to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I need to kiss you too.” They both groan before coming together. It is gentle, a feathering of lips instead of a rough taking. Her hands caress his neck and hair, his rub circles over her back. She breaths in the smell of his cologne, he the scent of honey that is part of her shampoo. They taste each other’s toothpaste. He moves away slowly, leaving the touch of his lips across her face and the upper part of her neck. Her head falls back, granting him more access and he recalls where they are.

He moves his lips away and takes her hand before restarting the lift. “Later, if you wish.”

“You can count on it.”

He sits across from her, idly playing with her free hand as they talk between bites. “So, your uncle took you to Australia when you were thirteen.”

“He did. A way to celebrate me leaving childhood. My mum worried. More about me having such a long flight then the month I would spend with Uncle Lamb. She trusted him.”

“Lamb, that is a strange name, even for a Sassanach.” She smacks him for the slur. “No offense. It is just a nickname I have in my head for you.”

She looks at him with narrowed eyes before she breaks and smiles. It is near impossible to stay mad at him. “It stands for Lambert. Quinton Lambert Beauchamp, my dad’s brother. His digs took him everywhere and, over the summer, He would take me.”

“Starting when?” His hand continues to work over hers and he is rapidly loosing interest in the food. He is famished for her.

“Five. It was just to France. He didn’t start taken me out of Europe until a few years later. What about you? Any trips abroad?”

They are to be getting to know each other, he firmly reminds himself. “ Depends on your definition of abroad. I went to Ireland at sixteen with a group of mates. To France with my parents and sister when I was twelve. But of the European continent, no.”

“Well, we will have to fix that.”

“As long as it is ‘we’, you can take me anywhere.” He lifts up the hand he had been playing with and brings it to his mouth, kissing her fingertips. She sways a bit, grabbing on to the table with her free hand to keep from falling.

“Tell me about your sister.” She says her eyes bright and her breath coming faster. Her nipples are rock hard against her bra and she feels full and wet down below.

“My sister?” Right, she is trying to keep them on task. “Janet Arabella Fraser is called Jenny. She is almost three years older then me and has always been the mature one. Responsible. She mother’s me worse then mam. Is stubborn as the day is long. A tiny thing with dark hair like our dad, she is my complete opposite except for our eyes. They are the same. She is smart, self confident, and brutally honest. I love her very much.”

“I would love to meet her,” she blurts out. “I mean if that…”

“Shhh Sassanach. It is alright. You will.” He smiles reassuringly at her. “This between us is real. I have a rule to always be honest. There is room for secrets but no lies in every relationship. Do you agree?”

“Absolutely.”

“Real and true. I know it is early, that we have only known each other two days, but, I can say that with confidence.”

“I agree. Thank goodness Jamie. I thought myself going insane.” She lets out a deep breath. “That the intensity of this was…”

“Was to much. That you were going to drown under it?”

“Good way to put it.”

“We will pull each other up. Together. No matter what.”

“Agree. I don’t want any more food. That isn’t what I am hungry for.”

He looks deep in her eyes, nods, calls the waitress over, pays the cheque and, has her hand, leading her out, all in the space of a few minutes.

They don't look back.

[popculturebuffet]

Simpsons Review: Simpsons Comics #102 “Uncle Burn$” or Homercore Nudity!

Whelp out of all the commissions Kev has thrown me this one’s kind of a curveball. I mean it makes sense why cover it: It’s a pastiche of Donald Duck Comics done in the pages of the Simpsons long running comics. I cover duck stuff on here, and not only do I love the Simpsons but I tend to reference it for jokes a LOT. I just genuinely never thought of reviewing it till now, likely because earlier on in my new career of reviewing animated shows, I wasn’t really convinced I could do pure comedies. With my regular reviews of Darkwing Duck and as it comes out coverage of the Loud House (I still need to get around to Band Together), that’s no longer a real issue and I should consider doing the show in the future, especially since I have an unabashed love for the first 10 seasons and a few episodes beyond that. 

As you can tell, I love the Simpsons. While I do genuinely wish it would end and have no real intrest in the current seasons, though if you’d like me to take a look i’d be willing to. The show in it’s prime was funny, witty and each episode was crammed with jokes. And refreshingly for an adult cartoon show of it’s time,  the show genuinely wasn’t afraid to mix things up: Milhouse’s parents divorced and stayed that way for so long that them apparently getting back together decades later is itself a huge status quo shake up.  Lisa went Vegetarian which stuck thanks to sir paul mcartney, and then went Buddhist, both of which have never wavered since and both fit her well. Skinner and Krabbable started dating. Barney went sober for a few seasons. Apu got married. These are minor changes but the show does have things happen occasionally and doesn’t just snap everything back and it adds genuine tension to plots knowing they might stay the status quo They usually don’t but the occasional change gives things stakes. I could go on for days, but I couldn’t go on for 8 weeks, point is the Simpsons are awesome, and deserve the praise they get early on I just wish they’d stop as by this point people really have stopped carring and it’s time to pass the torch and Let Bob’s burgers be the wholesome family comedy that runs forever.. and even then that one should stop at 10 seasons. Or if not at least let the kids age dammit.  But that aside, while many of you simpsons fans looking at this probably have at least seen the comics, or a collection of them over the decades, many of you like me are wondering what the hell Bongo Comics is and how they managed to last so long. Bongo was founded by Simpsons Creator Matt Groening in 1993. Matt Groening had noticed that at the time there just weren’t any funny books on the shelves, funny books being comedy based comics primarily targeted for kids, with Archie and Disney being really the only ones left at the time. So he founded Bongo to rectify that, and given Fox naturally liked the sound of more merchandising dollars, the publisher was primarily used to produce simpsons comics, though looking at wikipedia there were one or two that weren’t including, of all things, a Coldplay comic tying into their album. Why did Coldplay publish a comic book at a primarily simpsons comic book company?

Though most series seem to be either short lived or one shots, there were a few exceptions: Naturally the company put out an annual Treehouse of Horror issue, there was a Bart Simpson ongoing focusing on him and the other kids of Springfield, I had a trade for that one once, and once Futurama premiered it too got a comic book that held through both cancelations. But standing above them all was Simpsons Comics, a 245 issue long runner that ran all the way up to the company’s closing, likely due to a combination of a lack of profits and the then upcoming Disney-Fox merger depriving them of the very heart and soul of the company. 

Naturally being a Simpsons fan I have a connection to these comics having gotten the trades out of the library multiple times as well as the collection of Bartman’s solo series, which was my favorite and I might cover some day. In addition to the Free Comic Book Day issues i also picked up scattered issues over my life since, much like Archie, Simpsons comics were a mainstay of bookstores and super markets and the decline of both comic markets is likely why the Simpsons comics started to peter out in the first place. The quality and memorability of the stories varied but they were a fun thing to have around and it’s sad to see them go, as well as see Disney not even make a remote attempt to bring them back or at the very least republish the vast library they now have access to. Also finally if your wondering yes, there indeed was a Simpsons/Futurama crossover. And no I have not read it.  So with that history, most of which I just learned some of which I already knew, in mind, it is very fitting the comic’s did a tribute to the Uncle Scrooge comics. Though it does feel very weird that I have yet to cover any Donald Duck or Scrooge comics.. yet i’ve already covered one of the Ducktales tie in comics and a Simpsons homage to it. I’m going to have to correct that but until then, join me under the cut as I dive into adventure with the Simpsons. 

This issue was written by Ian Boothby and drawn by John Delaney, I feel mentiong the writers and artists should be important in comic reviews and I kick myself for not having done that or gone into them as much before. Boothby was apparently the Ian Flynn of these comics, writing more simpsons comics than any other writer according to wikipedia and winning an Eisner for his work on the comic if sadly not this issue. He was nominated for an outstanding Canadian Writer award for it though so that’s good. Point is the guy is a decorated vetran of this series and it shows in how good this issue is and I felt he deserved some recognition as most Comic Book Readers, myself included up till now, likely weren’t aware he even existed nor took over the comic in the 2000′s. 

We open with Burns getting attacked by a mummy! Gotta say wasn’t expecting this as where we started out but the simpsons have started with wonkier premises to end up somewhere. I mean there was the time a bag boy strike ended up with them in Africa. Also i’d say Burns should call the police, being the kind of privileged white guy they actually care about protecting and all, but frankly the Springfield Cops don’t have the best track records with Mummies:

But no it’s just Smithers, who dove in heroically to save the company 15 dollars after Homer took a bet to see how many fire crackers he could jam in his computer’s disk drive. Lenny said 20 but he proved him wrong. And yes those are all actual jokes from the comic, this issue is very funny and feels very much like a Golden Age Simpsons episode. They also all gather to sign Smither’s cast.. which naturally is a legally binding contract.  Burns takes his loyal minion to get some quality medical care only to find an arcade because he traded the Medical Bay in for one during an outbreak of Pac Man Fever... again I really can’t top that and there may be a good reason why I haven’t covered the Simpsons till now. But yeah as Buns gives Smithers a roll of Pennies, he wonders who to have replace Smither’s on their annual summer treasure hunt.. which would come out of nowhere but we genuinely don’t know what they do most summers. I assumed Burns just road Smithers like a horse to play cricket while Smithers enjoyed it way too much. But a stray comment from Homer getting a Krusty Doll from a crane machine about being king of the treasure hunters leads to this. 

I mean it’s an easy joke but damn if it didn’t get a laugh out of me. So later at the old Simpsons place, because this comic is fantastic, Marge and Homer talk things over, but Homer insists Burns said he’d split the treasure, and Lisa wishes she could come along. And Marge says he should, especially for his own saftey.. and when Bart complains, says all the kids should go, she already packed their bags, she’s heading to Rancho Relaxo byyyyeeeeeee. Once again, this comic is amazing, and I would say this is out of character for Marge, but frankly that’s the whole point. Plus it really isn’t when she has to deal with 4 children on a regular basis, and her sisters, and a town gone mad.. yeah can’t blame her here. 

The next day at Burns Office, Homer is wearing his navy outfit.. or rather Donald’s Navy outfit. But given I did a quick google and found him having at least 4 different outfits during his time in the Naval Reserves, it’s not a stretch to assume the Simpsons Version of the Navy gave these out too. Seriously Ian Boothby has put more thought into continuity than most writers on the show proper. Also Simpsons Tide, season 9 episode, still very memorable and hilarious and not due to childhood nostalgia. Just looking up this bit had me laughing hard. 

I now  want to watch that episode sometime soon so thanks Kev. Anyway Homer seems to have misplaced his plants. Now I could spare you the image since I don’t do things panel by panel anymore and only use panels from a comic when relevant. Buttttt

This traumatizing of my audience brings me to a point about this issue and why it works. While there are tons of nods to the Donald Duck comics and what their homaging is very clear, the issue doesn’t REQUIRE you know them to enjoy it.  Knowing them I obviously enjoy it more, but most of the jokes aren’t reliant on you knowing anything about the barks comics and even someone with a passing knowledge of  the Original Ducktales can still get the reference if not why Donald is here. It helps this is less of a parody, with the exception of some jokes, and more of an homage, using stylistic elements of those comics while telling i’ts own story as a loving tribute to it’s predecessors. Speaking of one of those jokes poking fun at the source material, Burns is delighted Homer brought child labor, which kept me laughing for a good minute, and when the kids introduce themselves we get this bit. 

Not only am I 100% sure every version of Donald or Della did this to make sure they could tell them apart, very much including the reboot with Donald, but it’s a genuine hilarious bit. Donald’s response as they head off is “there’s somehting hooey Dewey and screwy about this. “ Also I will criticize the fact Bart isn’t the one wearing a blue outfit. For those wondering why, after all Maggie wears blue shouldn’t she get it, who haven’t seen this a LOT of merchandise early on had Bart in a blue shirt, due to early Merch being rushed out pre-show and since he wore one in some earlier concept art, he got to wear blue. He also wore it late into the 90′s. 

Sidebar: I just found this and while it isn’t a bad joke given his character it is  questionable to have a fourth grade boy tell you to buy him. Just saying. But the reason I bring it up is partly because the show itself referenced it at one point. 

As well as it’s sister show Futurama

And you remeber that Bart Simpson solo I mentioned? That one frequently, both in and out of story, had Blue Shirt bart show up for some variety. 

Also why yes each issue does have it’s own fun “Superman’s Pal Jimmy Oleson” Esque subtitle. And I love it so. Point is Blue Bart is part of the series legacy and this very comic company, so it’s VERY weird to not have that here. That being said there were  a few Green Shirt barts apparently as a printing error, so he could just as easily be 80 steps ahead of me. I just don’t know. 

Back at the plot Burns and the Simpsons show up at Frink’s lab, Frink rather obviously filling in for Gyro, with his own version of little bulb named F.L.O. who gladly shakes Lisa’s hand.. and releases a Pterodactyl but hey you can’t win em all. It’s a nice nod, though one only fans of the source matieral will really get, but the pterodactyl bit right after helps distract from it. Frink slotts into the roll well, as Frink has no reall affiliation with anyone and is basically, much like Gyro, there for various characters to go too when the story or joke needs him. Frink has two gadgets for them: Some Scuba suits that can go to any depth and a grappling claw that accidently gets him gripped to the pterodactyl. Also homer accidently switches suits with maggie, so we get an adorable shot of her serenely sleeping in a diving helmet while her daddy chokes to death. 

So the next day it’s out to the open seas where The Simpsons are doing all the work while Burns lounges.. which yeah this is a typical uncle scrooge adventure all right. While the man unlike Burns does work hard and do things for himself, he spent most voyages talking about the destination while putting all the hard work on Donald, in case you thought there was at least one universe where Donald isn’t miserable most of the time. Lisa wonders what he’s doing and we get this lovely bit. 

I just.. can’t stop finding that hilarious or a nice way to get the Uncle Scrooge bit in there while still fitting the Simpsons, and it at least explains what happened to Herb, whose been mentioned all of once in the 30 seasons since he last showed up. I checked. And yes for those unaware, which is fair, or who just now remembered Homer does indeed have a brother, one his dad had out of an affair who showed up twice, once with Homer unintentionally, and largely due to Herb’s own foolishness, ruining his life, the other time with Maggie helping him get back on top and him and Homer reconciling. He’s also voiced by comedic legend and your friend and mine, Danny Devito, whose still making us all laugh to this day and is a wonderful person from all accounts. Rock on Danny, here’s the only way I can think to honor you. 

But yeah it’s a good gag. Burns claims to be watching for a Giant Squid.. and turns out to be right. So it’s up to the simpsons to fight the giant squid, a sentence I genuinely didn’t expect.. I thought like the Griffins they’d just ignore it. 

I miss that show.. oh i’m aware Family Guy is still running but much like the Simpsons the show it USED to be is long gone. Anyways Bart tells a worried homer octopus suck out the innards and drink it first quipping “It’s not like you haven’t been drunk in the morning before homer. Homer chokes bart only for the squid to choke him which is easily the second best “Homer getting choked after Choking bart” gag i’ve seen.. the best being this one I found on youtube. 

Though personally my faviorite part of that whole bit is Bart’s proud “THAT’S BECAUSE I SOAKED HIM IN SLIME!” Anyways Lisa figures out a way to beat the squid, painting the likeness of each of them on it’s tentacles and letting the thing devour itself. Lisa lampshades it making no sense PHysics wise but with that she reluctantly accepts calling Mr. Burns, Uncle Burns and we’re off to our next location.  Next up is Mt. Donrosa, a very clear nod to Uncle Scrooge maestro Keno “Don” Rosa, an avid fan of Barks work who expanded on it and turned it into a solid continuity, most famously, and what got me into the ducks in the first place, with the epic “Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck” which I proudly own and.. well I did say watch this space didn’t I?  Enough hinting at the future as the Simpsons scale the mountain with Homer carrying burns up on a rickshaw. Burns however looses his lucky #1 penny, SUBTLE, and cuts Bart down to get it. We then get the best line of the issue:

Bart thankfully survives and we find out the Penny, much like Scrooge’s Dime is how Burns started his fortune.. for this issue and nowhere else but that’s standard for the Simpsons. Specifically loading it into a gun and threatning to kill Jasper’s grandfather with it during the gold rush, a nice twist. At the top of the mountain they find the fabled key of Strobl, which comes from the Taliaferro tribe.. more refrenes this time though I didn’t know them and had to google. Tony Strobl was an artist on the Duck Comics at one ponit  and Al Taliforino id forgotten about. He did the Donald Duck comic strip which I had heard of and weirdly hasn’t been collected yet despite Fantagraphics covering mickey, as well as reprinting barks and rosa’s respective works. 

The key is suspended in the air by what Lisa suspects to be magnetics, and while Burns plan is naturally “Have Bart swim in it and see if he surivives”, Bart, still pissed from the penny and not wanting to die today, grabs the Penny and uses his slingshot to fire it at the Key. The bad luck from the penny casues an erruption, but Bart once again saves the day and has them surf down, with naturally tons more great jokes.  The family enjoys some steamed Seafood, except Lisa whose eating Seaweed, while Homer enjoys a sting ray “It tastes as good as it stings, Ow, Ow.” ON to Goddfrodson Trench, an odd choice given Floyd Goddfrodson was barks equivalent for the Mickey Mouse Comics and not really a duck writer, but he still deserves the honor regardless.  Under the Sea, no accusations just friendly crustaceans here.. our heroes are close to the treasure but loose the map to the Jailbird Boys, aka Snake and his cousins, who found out due to Lisa’s blog. She didn’t want to loose any more readers to Sheri and Teri’s Olson Twin’s Fan Page.. which.. it’s 2004.. weren’t they dead by this point? Nope still alive? Still are today in fact? Alrighty then. Also this bit, and some of the other references are a bit heavy handed, I will admit that, but the jokes are high quality enough otherwise that it just comes off as a bit of an adorable wink more than laziness. 

Snake and co cut their air with Starfish used as throwing stars. 

The gang tie their air suplies to avoid dying, and Maggie, in a clever bit, talks with the starfish, since they communicate via sucking, to attack the Jailbird Boys. Again.. 

I genuinely don’t know, but our heroes find the fabled vault of Barks Billion.. named after Bark Barks, that polar bear from the sonic games.. no of course it’s named after Disney Duck God Carl Barks, who created the Duck’s share of Donald and Scrooge’s supporting cast: Uncle Scrooge himself, Daisy Duck, a fact I just learned but given he created her first short “Mr Duck Steps Out, shouldn’t of surprised me, The Beagle Boys, Magica DeSpell, Goldie O Gilt, Flintheart Glomgold, Gyro Gearloose, Gladstone Gander, The Junior Woodchucks as a whole, Neighbor Jones, John D. Rockerduck, The Number One Dime, Gus Goose, April, May, June and Whitewater Duck. Just the sheer impact he’s had on the comics on all continents cannot be overstated. He is also the one who refined Huey Dewey and Louie from hellraising little shits to the good little boys they are today.. well okay they were, thankfully the reboot has created much better versions. Point is what a man, what a man what a mighty good man, he is truly missed.  We get two great homer gags in the same page, one where somehow he’s put the giant key on a key ring and still can’t find it.. with Bart helpfully taking it from him, and then we get this, which I missed on my first read through. 

Naturally Burns betrays them, using a Gold Magnet, kay, to suck up all the gold and naturally planning to leave the Simpsons for dead to no one’s surprise. But thanks to Bart teaching Maggie how to use the spittoons, Homer gets one stuck on his head.. and starts getting sucked up with the Simpsons using them to escape. Naturally Lisa’s first instinct is obvious. 

But Burns weasels his way out by promising them free gold after their free lunch. Naturally the next day this turns out ot be a trick as their lunch came from frinks and thus, for now, their weightless.. but Karma gets Burns when he tries swimming in his new gold vault... only for the natural result of what happens when am an who never exercises and who doctors once described as having so many diseases packed into his body at once they tripped each other off and that a strong wind could kill him, trying to do with a similarly aged but still physically fit and well trained at swimming in money man does on a daily basis. 

We then close on a quick gag of weightless homer getting caught on fire and we’re out. 

Final Thoughts:  This was a really excellent comic. It captured the tone of the Simpsons at their best and while stiff in a place here or there, it’s mostly just really funny, entertaining and a nice and warm tribute to Donald and Scrooge’s long comics history, not really mocking it but instead just homaging it, while still throughly feeling like the Simpsons. It honestly feels like the Treehouse of Horor Segement on the shining, a bit that parodies something, but for the most part the jokes still feel firmly rooted in the simpsons and their cast. This was a treat to review and i’m glad Kev comissoned it and I may take a look at more Simpsons in the future. If you guys like this review, you can follow me on patreon at patreon.com/popculturebuffet, or if  there’s a specific simpsons or ducktales episode or a specific comic you want me to review, you can comission your own review for just five bucks. Just send me a direct message on here through Tumblr, or take a look at my ask box or submit. However you want to do it. I take payments through paypal and until next time: Happy Days are Here Again. 

[abuttoncalledsmalls]

Take A Giant Step - Chapter 4

Warnings: Angst and Language

Pairings: Frankie Morales x f!OC

Word Count: 1.7 K

A/N: Here is Chapter 4! If you would like to be tagged in upcoming chapters, please don’t hesitate to let me know. Shout out to the AMAZINGLY LOVELY @yespolkadotkitty for beta-ing this and making my new amazing banner!! Please enjoy. <3

Chapters: 1 2 3

“Mango!” Lauren was on her front porch when I pulled into her driveway. She had invited me over on a sunny Saturday afternoon for lunch with her and her husband, Ian. I adored my younger sister dearly and always had a wonderful time when we visited. Saturday lunches were especially a very special time where we could catch up over a delicious home cooked meal.

“Lauren!” I got out of Carly and climbed up the porch steps. As I hadn’t seen her in a while, the biggest hug I could muster was in order. She was all smiles and seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood. 

“I know I said we were going to have barbeque today, but things just did not pan out. So I hope that grilled turkey burgers, potato salad, green beans, and pecan tarts are okay.”

I laughed. “That sounds amazing, but do you know that there are only three of us for lunch?”

“Yes - I can count, but leftovers are the best part of any meal.”

I rolled my eyes and followed my sister into her house. She had a lovely home. It was cozy and well put together. It almost looked like something out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine. The best part though was that it was out in the country. The property was secluded. Her only neighbors were towering oak trees, diverse wildlife, and a small creek two minutes away. Whenever we would go into her backyard, I would find myself getting lost in the splendor of the outdoors.

“Ian went out to pick up beer and some lemonade. He should be back soon. In the meantime, let’s catch up in the kitchen. I still have a little cooking to do.”

As we entered the kitchen, I settled onto a wooden stool with a blue gingham seat cushion. I asked Lauren how things were going. She replied with her usual cheeriness. Her new promotion at her financial firm was going well and Ian was enjoying the good weather by fishing every week. They were just starting on long-awaited home renovations.

“Actually, we officially started the process this morning! I called your friend Frankie and had him over this morning to do some minor work on the backyard deck. He did a really good job. I’m really excited that we’ll be able to have meals and get togethers out there again.” She sighed contently.

“He’s not still here, is he?” I wasn’t exactly dressed for company outside of my sister and brother-in-law. Somehow bright red cotton red cheer shorts and a well worn white t-shirt reading “FLASH” in bold scarlet letters did not strike me as an outfit that conveyed a well put together adult. It had more of a 70’s teenager vibe to it.

“He left about forty-five minutes before you arrived. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Sure you are… I see that smile on your face. You like him. I should have known.”

“Laur -”

“I’m not judging you, Mango. He’s a cutie and your type. I know about your weakness for brown eyes. Have you asked him out yet?”

I shook my head no. “We’re just friends. Or at least I think we are. I’m not too sure. Sometimes I feel like he’s just being polite and -”

“Jesus Christ. Do you speak to each other frequently?”

“Yeah, we text almost every day.”

“Do you two have a good time when you speak to each other?”

“I think so. I mean, I know that I do.”

“Congratulations. You are friends.” Lauren exhaled and I braced myself. I knew what was coming next. My sister began her time old lecture on the importance of letting down my guard. She reiterated that I needed to be open to letting others love and care for me. That by showing my vulnerability that I may have risked getting hurt, but I also risked missing out on so much more. I knew she was right deep down, I just wasn’t ready to get to that level yet.

“This is the last thing I will say and then I promise that I’ll drop it. You are my big sister and I love you. Your last relationship was six years ago. I want you to be happy. You deserve someone who can do that. I don’t know Frankie, but I think you’d be stupid to not ask him out for coffee at the very least. He could be total garbage or the one that completes you. Either way, you won’t know until you ask.”

***

It was dusk when I left Lauren’s. I kept thinking about our conversation in the kitchen about Frankie. I did like him a lot and I would have been interested in pursuing a relationship with him. Maybe I did need to just suck it up and ask him out. A small pebble of courage was forming in my stomach. I opened up my contacts in my phone and tapped Frankie’s name. The line began to ring. I was going to do this. I was going to be confident, see this through, and ask him to go for coffee. If he said “no”, it would be okay. The world would not end.

“Hi Maggie.” Immediately I felt myself melting. Everytime I heard him say my name in his husky baritone, I turned into putty. He had a way of making two simple syllables sound like the sweetest honey dripping off of his lips.

“Hey Frankie. Am I calling at a bad time? My confidence was disappearing as fast as it had appeared.

“Never. I was just getting settled to watch tv and eat dinner.”

“Oh no. I didn’t mean to interrupt your dinner. I can call back later. It’s not important.”

“It’s okay. It’s just me, a Cheers rerun, and a Hot Pocket. You aren’t interrupting anything. How are you doing? How was your visit with your sister?”

I stopped. “How did you know about my visit?”

“She told me about it this morning when I was working on the deck in the backyard.”

“Right. She didn’t drive you crazy, did she?”

“Nope. She was really nice and left me alone to work for the most part. She did offer me coffee a few times.”

Coffee! What a perfect segue. I took a deep breath and prepared myself. It was then or never.

“Speaking of coffee, one of our board members, Harvey, mentioned that one of the legs on his coffee table needs repair. Would it be okay if I passed your info along to him?” Goddamnit. My nerves decided it would be never.

“Of course. I would be more than happy to look at it.”

“Awesome. I’ll let him know,” I said weakly.

“Is there anything else you needed?”

“I’m good,” I lied. “I’ll let you get back to Cheers and your Hot Pocket. Just promise that you’ll eat a vegetable or piece of fruit as well. That shit isn’t a real dinner.”

“Yes, Mom.” I could hear a grin in his voice which in turn made me smile. “I promise to eat something with actual nutrients as well.” We shared a chuckle.

“Maggie? Are you still on the road?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Will you promise to text me when you get home? Just so I know that you got in okay?”

“Yes, Dad.”

***

Over the next month and a half, I must have given Frankie over fifteen referrals alone. That didn’t include the ones that both Lauren and Harvey sent his way. Although he was busy with this influx of work, we still were good about keeping up with each other on a daily basis. Sometimes it was a simple text reminding the other person to hydrate. Other times it was a late night phone call where we shared laughter over the eccentricities of board members he had met that day.

I was plugging away in my office on a Monday afternoon. I was pouring over numbers for the next season’s budget and was desperate for a distraction. My head was practically swimming. My phone started to play “Go All the Way” and I knew that Frankie was calling me. I picked that ringtone specifically for him. I answered my phone.

“Hi Frank-”

“I’m in the area. Could I maybe drop by the theater for a second? I have iced coffee.”

“Absolutely! I do love my iced coffee and I always enjoy seeing you. That would be nice.”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

“See you then!” I hung up. The butterflies in my stomach had reappeared. When I spoke with or texted him, I’d get a little giddy. There was just something about seeing him in person that made me feel excitedly dizzy - like I was drunk. I wondered if he would look any different from the last time I saw him. Would he still have his patchy beard and adorable belly pooch? What about his soft brown curls kept in check by his baseball cap?

I heard a knock on my office door frame and looked up. I was happy to see that Frankie still looked the same, only a little more tan. His beard, pooch, curls, and hat were all present. A large smile crossed his face when he walked in and handed me my iced coffee.

“Hi stranger. Long time, no see.”

“Tell me about it! You’re so busy now. I’m surprised you still have time to talk with me, let alone bring me iced coffee.”

“I will always make time for you. I can’t stay for too long, but I did want to bring you a pick me up. You mentioned that today was budget day and I thought the coffee would help.”

“It does. Thank you so much.”

“I also wanted to thank you. You’ve been so kind and have really helped me out with all of these jobs. Really - I wouldn’t have been able to pay rent or buy groceries without your help. I just finished a huge job building a curio cabinet for your board member Stacey. It paid really well and to thank you I was thinking that maybe I could take you out to dinner on Thursday. Only if you are comfortable with it. I don’t want to put any pressure on you.”

I had lost all of my capability for language. This beautiful, reserved, and sweet man was asking if he could take me out to dinner. I somehow was able to squeak out that I would love to. He shyly looked down at the floor and blepped his tongue. 

“Great. I’ve heard great things about Arianna’s on Main Street. Would 7:00 PM work for you?”

“Absolutely. It’s a date.”

------------------------------------------------------

TAGS:

@larakasser @absurdthirst​ @yespolkadotkitty @fioccodineveautunnale​ @wickedfrsgrl​

[bluezey]

Pretty Pretty Dresses - extended cut

Someone wanted to see an extended version of the Pretty Pretty Dresses drabble, and I felt inspired to do such a thing.  There’s a lot more fluff in it, and it ends with Ian being humiliated, cause you know me, I’m a jerk to characters I love.

So, for those who haven’t heard or need a refresher, this is just basically Ian being a big brother to his new little sister Judy, in a way that some readers may not expect, and some might.

It was late Friday afternoon when Ian came home.  Willowdale College is about an hour away, so he likes to visit every other weekend. Especially when he doesn’t have that much homework.  This weekend could be a little bit of an exception, he has a report to write, and an exam on Wednesday.

As he opens the front door, he hears the familiar footsteps racing towards him.  It’s not Blazey this time.

“Ian!” the little three year old girl cheered, arms out as far as she could stretch them.

He happily knelt down and caught her in a big hug.  “Judy!”

Ian and Barley were not surprised when Laurel and Colt got married, but boy were they surprised when they found out their mother was pregnant with Colt’s child.  Funny enough, it wasn’t that the child was going to be half elf, half centaur that Ian and Barley had to prepare for.  It was that the child was going to be a girl. Not long after that shocker, Ian had to share Barley’s bedroom, Ian’s old bedroom was turned into their little sister’s bedroom, and Judith was born.

It took some getting used to, the young adult brothers now having a little sister, now three and a half years old.  Especially for Ian.  Not only giving up his bedroom to become Barley’s new roommate (thank Alora for college dorms), but being a big brother in general.  Over time, as Judy grew from a baby to a preschooler, they got the hang of it. Barley seemed to handle the more tomboy things, like rough housing, making mud pies, catching bugs, even playing Quests of Yore once Barley adjusted the rules to make the game easier for her. While Ian…

“Are you here for the tea party?” Judy asked.

“Oh, uh,” Ian stood back up. “I have homework to do.  I wish I could…”

Judy’s glowing smile immediately fell to a frown, her elf ears flopped downward a little thanks to those extra ear muscles she got from the centaur side.

Ian felt terrible, but gave a little grin as he thought aloud, “But Iandelle may be available.”

“Really?” Judy hugged her big brother’s long spindly legs.

Ian patted the top of her brown haired head.  “Go to your room, she’ll see you in a minute.”

“Kay, brother!” Judy went running upstairs, slowing a bit so she can clop each hoof on the stairs.

Ian picked up his backpack and suitcase, took his staff and headed to his bedroom.  Well, his and Barley’s bedroom.  Ian opened the door and peeked his head inside first, seeing if Barley was there.  Nope, their bedroom was empty.  Barley must be working another job.  Let’s see if he can keep this one.

Ian had to step over some dirty laundry, trash and Quests of Yore toys to make it across the bedroom. Barley’s mess sure has expanded since Ian was gone and Barley had their room to himself.  Thankfully, the part of their room that had Ian’s desk, bed and closet still had some clean floor left.  Wish he could do something about the musky smell though.

Ian placed his suitcase and backpack on his bed and his staff by his desk.  He opened up his closet doors.  Thankfully he got the closet while Barley made do with his clothes in a dresser.  Well, most of the closet, there were a few stacks of gaming and “questing” toys on the top shelf.

Squeezing past a wood dresser shoved into his closet, Ian dug deep behind some of the clothes hung up on hangars and grabbed an outfit he purposely hid as deep as he could.  It wasn’t that he was embarrassed, it’s just that he’d be embarrassed if anyone but Judy caught him in it.  After finally unhooking it from the hangar, Ian pulled out a pristine white costume dress, frilly with pastel bows and puffy cap sleeves. Ian draped the dress on his bed before staring at it, giving a soft “this is ridiculous” shake of his head.  But he still had a grin on his face cause, well, it’s for Judy.

Ian got dressed into the pink frilly dress, fumbling a bit to reach the zipper in the back, but he managed to get it.  He sat down and pulled the dress up to his knees, then put on a pair of lacey white stockings that ran up to his mid thigh with matching pink ribbon and bows sewn on the hem.  Yeah it was silly, but he’ll take to the grave that he thinks he looks in them.

Once dressed and ready, Ian peeked his head out the bedroom door, looking both ways to see if the coast is clear.  No one in sight.  Hitching up the skirt a bit so he can walk better, without tripping on the hem that is, Ian crept his way upstairs, easing into a walk to his old bedroom, now Judy’s room.

The walls and floor remained untouched, but everything that reminded Ian of his old room was gone. Where his bed once was instead had a little girl’s bed, well still pretty big since it had to fit her horse half, covered with sheets branded with the many princesses and queens from the Pretty Pretty Centaurs series.  Where his blue rug used to be was a heart shaped rug so pink he could be blinded by it. His old closet was now overflowing with a mixture of toys, butterfly nets, foam play swords and other assorted play things.  The room also included a white wooden dresser, a plastic toy table with a little play tea set, and a small plastic play vanity.

Judy was already dressed as one of her favorite play dresses, complete with a matching plastic tiara.  She backed out of her closet, pulling one of her Pretty Pretty Centaur dolls out of a pile, letting the pile fall as she freed the dollie.  She turned to see Ian standing in the doorway, and her face glowed that cooling pink elf faces are known for when she smiled. “Princess Iandelle!”

Ian chuckled.  It’s just him in a dress, a boy elf in a dress. But since Barley made up that nickname, it just stuck whenever Ian was in a dress.  “Hey Judy.  I heard I was invited to a tea party?”

“Do you want to play makeups first?” Judy asked.

Ian sighed, keeping up that smile, though the rest of his face fell.  He thought it was just going to be a quick play date, but makeovers?  But, how could he say no to that little face? That little face that could throw a pretty big tantrum if she wanted to.

Ian tried to sit in the little plastic kid’s chair by the vanity, making sure to keep his legs together and his skirt covering so only his feet showed.  He may be a boy, but he still has to sit properly in a dress. Judy opened up the small drawer in the plastic vanity, pushing away the fake plastic molded prop makeup for the real makeup Judy and Ian hide in the back.  Just blush and lipstick, nothing too fancy.  And if Ian helped apply them, nothing too messy.  Ian applied a thin layer of pink lipstick, subtle but complimented Judy’s blue elf skin perfectly.  He then added a thin layer of pink blush that gave her freckly cheeks a nice sparkle.  It was Judy’s turn, painting Ian’s cheeks in the same blush, and coating his lips in a soft blue that made his lips just a touch more darker.  He smiled, approving of Judy’s makeover.  Then, when Judy’s back was turned, quickly grabbed a paper towel and mirror to remove a whole lot of it so his makeup looked more like a subtle touch up than clown paint.

Judy returned from the toppled pile with an armful of accessories.  Ian sighed, preparing himself.  Judy picked out some clip on earrings and a pink bow hair clip for Ian, and a toy necklace for herself.  Ian clipped the earrings onto his long blue elf ears and helped Judy with clipping the bow to the side of his head.  At least the hair clip was small and nice.  The costume jewelry earrings, however, were gawdy, and didn’t match the outfit at all.

“And now we’re ready for the tea party,” Judy declared happily.

Ian exhaled.  “Oh.  Good.”

Judy sat down at the plastic kiddie table, the back legs of her horse half perched in a little plastic chair.  Ian chose to sit on the floor, his legs folded so he was sitting on his calves. The skirt puffed up around the lower half of his body, making him look like a cupcake decorated with white and pink icing.  Judy placed her Pretty Pretty Centaur doll at the table, their third member to their tea party.

“Would you like some tea, Princess Iandelle?” Judy asked politely as she picked up the ceramic toy teapot.

Ian offered his little ceramic teacup.  “Why thank you, Princess Judy.”  He smiled politely.

Minutes passed as Ian and Judy shared their little tea date together.  Ian “sipped” on some calming tea and “nibbled” on some imaginary crumpets as they had some polite conversation.  Ian shared what he was learning in college and studying magic, mostly Judy nodded but didn’t understand the college stuff.  Judy told of her art projects and friends she made in daycare, or what antics she and Barley have been up to.  Ian would smile and politely ask a question or two when Judy had her Princess Idina doll speak.

As Ian was in the middle of a sip of tea, he heard a loud snap and a caught a quick flash out of the corner of his eye.  He quickly turned and caught sight of Barley’s janky smart phone ducking behind Judy’s bedroom door.

“BARLEY!!” Ian shot up to standing, but one step later, Ian planted face first onto the floor.

Barley was halfway down the hall, smart phone in hand, laughing loudly, as Ian burst through the door and came running down the hall.  Barley noticed Ian holding up the skirt a bit so he could run better, revealing those lacey white stockings underneath.  Quickly, Barley took another picture.

When Ian heard that loud snap, he nearly died a little inside.  “NO!!” he shouted as he tackled Barley to the ground.

The two brothers wrestled on the hardwood floor of the hallway.  Barley was trying to pin Ian down, while Ian was grabbing desperately for Barley’s phone.  In their struggle, Ian lost one of those costume earrings.

“Come on, Princess Iandelle,” Barley asked, putting Ian in a head lock and giving his head a noogie.  “Where’s your sense of humor?”

Ian struggled to grab the phone off the floor, just inches from his fingertips.  “Delete those pictures this instant!”

“Yay!  Barley’s home!” Judy came bolting out of her bedroom and leaped into the pile, thinking it was time to wrestle.  Barley was happy to play, letting Ian go and grabbing Judy by the waist, picking her up.  Man, Barley can be strong!

This was Ian’s chance. He scrambled to grab the phone, but found it missing.  He did a double take back to Barley’s direction.  Shantar’s Talon, he must still have the phone!

“Kids!” Laurel called from downstairs.  “Dinner’s almost ready!”

Soon as Ian heard his mom’s voice, he caught the smell of dinner baking in the oven.  How long have Barley and mom been home?  How long have he and Judy been playing?

“Okay, kiddo,” Barley told Judy, leading her to  the bathroom. “Time to wash up for dinner.”

“Aww,” Judy moaned.

Ian wiped the lipstick off his face with the back of his hand.  “And delete those photos, Barley!”

“Oh no!” Barley’s voice echoed through the hall.  “They are too good!”

Ian groaned as he stood up, adjusting his feet so he doesn’t step on the hem and rip his dress.  He made his way downstairs and headed to his and Barley’s bedroom to get changed back into his usual clothes.

Laurel was in the kitchen when she caught sight of Ian at the door.  “Will Princess Iandelle be joining us for dinner tonight?” she asked with a smile.

“Mom,” Ian groaned as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

[nancythebisexualslutwheeler]

Momma’s Boy

Part Three to this: 

It only took six months after Gemma was born for Went and Maggie to move closer. They’d only lived an hour away before, but even that was too far. So now, they lived as close as Richie would let them, which was about fifteen minutes. Eddie was now thankful for this as well, as the ages of their children, seven, four, and now a year, didn’t really work out with long distances.

It’s Labor Day and they’re late. Eddie hates being late. Even if it’s just to his In-Laws. “Gemma, baby, let’s GO!” He shouts up the stairs. He’d been in charge of the packing and food. So he had diaper bags, the games and toys, and the cooler packed and in the car, and no one was anywhere to be found. He’d then allowed himself time to dawdle, eat a popsicle as he wandered around the house grabbing himself a book to bring and Richie the tanning oil. But after that, there were still no kids.

Eddie checks his email on his phone before storming upstairs. It’s not that big of a deal, but the closer to dinner time it got, the less time there was for photos, and today       was Ian’s official birthday, it was important to get them done before the friend party tomorrow. Richie always joked with Eddie and asked if there was ever one birthday that wasn’t important. “No, they’re all important Richard! This is how we make memories!” He says, scrunching his nose. Richie had laughed at how seriously his husband was taking it, “Okay babycakes.”

So every year they outdid it for everyone’s birthday. It made for a long year, but Eddie loved it, Richie did too, deep down, he just worried for his husband’s wellbeing. Ian is in the pack n play in the toy room, babbling away, which means it’s his older two, Gemma and Liam holding them up. There’s music, still the Frozen 2 soundtrack of course, coming from the bathroom. Eddie doesn’t know where to start with his bitching.

Liam is half dressed, standing on the toilet lid singing into a hair brush. Richie is dancing and Gemma only has one french braid done, but at least she’s dressed, though not in her matching outfit. Richie freezes when he sees Eddie, and Gemma bounces over to him,

“Papa! Sing with me!”

Eddie hoists her up,

“Baby, we can’t sing, we have to go see Grammy and Grampa.”    

Gemma wriggles her way down and Eddie nudges her towards the sink so he can finish braiding her hair. He watches Richie in the mirror as he sheepishly grabs Liam and brings him to his bedroom to get him dressed.

It’s been hard since Eddie went back to work. Their routine was disrupted and Richie was back to watching the kids full time. He knew they’d been struggling to listen to the rules as much, Gemma had been pitting them against each other, and Richie had been feeling disheartened. The last thing Eddie wanted to do was make Richie feel bad, and he feared he’d done just that.

Eddie ties purple bows on the bottom of the braid, and makes sure to grab a third piece of ribbon for Liam. He’s been very into hair accessories lately. Gemma refuses to change, so she’s wearing an orange dress while the rest of them are wearing purple and gray and Eddie wants to have a meltdown, because they need pictures for their September page in their annual Calendar Christmas Present. He’s sure the food’s been sitting in the car too long, and Went will have given up and started cooking already, and damn he cannot wait to crack open a Mike’s Hard Lemonade and sit in the pool. He’s got pit stains on his shirt and Richie forgot to brush his teeth, and Ian’s now screaming because he’d fallen asleep in the pack n play and didn’t want to be in the carseat and Liam’s untied his hair bow for the third time and is sniffling, and Eddie’s hungry and tired and-

Maggie greets them at the car. She’s wearing a huge white sunhat and oversized sunglasses and she’s wearing a leopard print swimsuit coverup. She tries to open the door before Richie can even unlock the doors, “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. Eddie laughs, unlocking the doors and Maggie’s poking her head in the door,

“Hi my angels! Oh Ian, happy birthday my sweet boy! Gem, my princess! Liam, what’s wrong honey?”

Richie shoots Eddie a look and Eddie laughs. He laughs because he knows his husband hates it. He’s grown up with his mother his whole life, but Eddie never had that. Never had someone who loved him in the right way. He’d had the micromanaging part of having a mother, but not the nourishing part. Maggie and Went made him feel loved, and cared for, and yes it was too much, especially Maggie, but it was nice at the same time. They were family.

Eddie grabs the bags and leaves the heavy cooler for Richie. He heads through the gate to the backyard. The Tozier’s backyard is huge with a swing set, an underground pool, a hot tub and a fire pit. Eddie had never dreamed of it. Sure, with his own kids he saw all of the hazards, and sometimes it led to panic attacks, the thought of something happening to them. But then Richie reminds him to be grateful they’re not sick, and that he can take care of them but they don’t need him to if nothing is wrong. It’s all very confusing and scary but Richie is there and his therapist, Meredith is there and Walt and Maggie are there. Which doesn’t explain why his children are naked in the pool!

“We brought swimsuits!” He starts running toward them.

“No running by the pool son!” Walt shouts.

Eddie lets out a squeak, Maggie’s already undressing Ian,

“I have swim diapers!” He jogs on the grass around the pool, to her.

His son is safely in a swim diaper, when Richie finally strolls in, setting down the cooler. Eddie jumps up,

“Richie,” he whines, “they don’t have their suits on!”

Richie looks at the kids and laughs, before seeing Eddie’s distress. He gives him a hug. He’s so warm from the sun. Eddie relaxes and Richie kisses his head,

“Just relax. Mom’s got them, baby.”

Eddie always starts out up tight, mainly because he’s at work when Richie sets up the playdates, and brings them to the birthday parties, so he’s not used to other people watching his kids. But they’re safe, there’s a separator in the pool that divides the shallow from the deep and Liam has his life jacket on, and Gemma has water wings. Richie yanks his shirt over his head and leans into the cooler to grab out a hard lemonade. He pulls his keys out of his pocket and opens it with his bottle opener before handing in to Eddie. Eddie stares at the freckles and hair on his back as he bends over to grab himself a beer. He cracks his open before walking over to his mom, where she’s sitting on the stairs of the pool, playing with Ian. He gives her a side hug and a kiss on the head, before he goes to greet his pops. Eddie hears them greeting each other in accents.

Eddie all but downs the drink in his hand, and by the time Richie is walking over, he’s holding another one out to be opened. Richie sits next to him, body pressing against his. He’s sweaty. It’s gross.

“How are you doing my love?”

Eddie nods, and takes a sip of his drink,

“Everyone’s having fun.”

Richie nods, maneuvering Eddie so he can lay down on the sun chair, even though if Eddie stays in this position, he’ll be blocking Richie’s sun but he doesn’t complain.

“Except you, Eds. Relax. We’re supposed to be celebrating,” he says softly.

Eddie’s chest tightens. It’s times like this especially that he wishes he could calm down. It’s embarrassing. Eddie wouldn’t let Richie tell his parents what Eddie’s mom did to him, for fear of judgement, so it always feels kind of awkward. To Eddie at least. Why he preens a little too hard for Maggie’s approval. Which is why he appreciated keeping himself cooped up with his kids and no one else around. No one to perform for. Because Richie knows he’s a good dad.

Eddie gets a little tipsy, assuming by relax, Richie meant, with him, so imagine his shock when his husband slips out from underneath him on the sunchair and cannonballs into the pool. Walt is lighting a fire in the pit and Maggie goes into the house to fix the food he assumes. He should go help her. But then Gemma squeals and Richie dunks her underwater. It’s entertaining.

Eddie met Richie at one of his shows, the jokes were a bit more crass than he’d been willing to let the group of coworkers he’d gone out with, know he thought was funny. But when he saw the comedian at the bar,. Alone, he’d gone up to see him. Richie’s everything made up for the fact he was a terrible boyfriend. Forgetting anniversaries and dates, crude pick up lines. He traveled so much that Eddie started to feel like a constant one night stand. Richie’d be around for the sex but suddenly gone in the morning. He loved Richie, but it sucked. Eventually he’d given Richie an ultimatum. Although he was two years older than Richie, he was 29, and that was old enough that he needed to get his shit together. He knew Richie loved what he did and he made good money, and Eddie wasn’t worth all that. But Richie thought he was. That was the night Eddie told Richie about his mom. That was the night Richie proposed.

They get married in an elaborate ceremony in Paris, with their closest friends and Richie’s parents. They’d paid for everything. Eddie asks, one night after calling Richie ‘daddy’ for the first time, if he’d ever want to have kids. They go to a surrogacy clinic the following week. Raising Gemma was one of the hardest things they’d ever had to do, but after she made it out of her terrible twos, they were contacting Sierra, their surrogate again.

Eddie really loved Richie. He’d gotten so lucky. He’d never thought that someone who publicly talked about getting his asshole waxed would be a stay at home dad. But Richie had something that Eddie could never explain. Most times, if he raised his eyebrows, their kids would stop the undesirable behavior. He never got tired of kid music or waking up with the baby or having to relearn basic math with Gemma. He was the most beautiful person he knew. And that's saying a lot from someone who still made fart noises. (And not just when the kids were around.)                                                                      

Eventually Eddie realizes he’s a bit too tipsy and sits up, tugging his shirt on. He pads up to the porch and lets himself in the screen door. The gust of air hits him in the face and he shivers. Maggie is singing to herself and setting up the food on the table. Eddie’s head is spinning.

“How can I help?” he asks, hoping he’s not slurring.

She turns around and laughs,

“Sweetie, you look sloshed. Sit, sit, I’ll get you some food.” She pulls out the barstool and he sits down. She makes him two ham and cheese sliders and puts them on a paper plate, passing it to him. “Soak up the alcohol.”

She busies around, and he can see she’s making the kid’s plates.

“Eddie, what’s wrong? It’s Ian’s birthday honey, you’re surrounded by family. You’re not having a good time?”

Eddie wolfs down the food and takes the opportunity to walk around the table and make himself a real plate. Richie’ll kill him, he usually lets him eat first, but Eddie deserves it. He scoops himself some potato salad,

“I never had any gatherings as a child. It was just my mom and I, so I think I get social anxiety or something.”

Maggie clucks her tongue,

“Well I don’t want you to ever feel that way around us. Where’s your mother now?”

“We don’t talk.”

Maggie hums.

“When I was younger she, she made me think I was sick.”

Maggie nods. Eddie shoves a bite of food in his mouth.

“I’m sorry that happened honey, I can’t imagine. But I’m so glad God blessed me with another son. You are a son to me Eddie. Went too. And you’re welcome anytime, even just you if you want to talk or anything.”

“Thanks Maggie, I appreciate it.”

“Of course honey. I’ll send Richie in. I can feed the kids.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Let me take care of my grandbabies! You relax.”

There’s that word again, relax.

Richie comes in and gives him a concerned look,

“You’re looking about 10% less hot than usual, so what’s wrong?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

Richie leans over immediately and pecks Eddie,

“Talk.”

“I told your mom about my mom.”

Richie lets out a low whistle,

“Damn babe. You wanna talk about it?”

Eddie shakes his head and smiles,

“No. I think I’m going to be more comfortable here from now on.”

Richie walks around the bar with his full plate,

“Want to go outside with the kids?”

Eddie shakes his head,

“No. Sit by me, I think they’ve got it.”

Richie grins,

“Sweet.”

Eddie’s right, he does get more comfortable with Maggie, and it’s not but a couple months later, when they’re supposed to go to the Tozier’s for dinner and Eddie finally decides to give in and call Maggie.

“Hey Maggie, yeah, we’re not going to be able to come.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, Liam’s just not feeling good and Gemma’s in a time out and I haven’t even started the sides yet, so,”

“Oh that’s okay. How about we just come over? The ham is done and the mac and cheese, and I made that coconut cake for you. We don’t mind the kids when things come up. We still wanna see you guys. Eddie, come on, it’s your birthday hun.”

Eddie nods,

“Yeah, okay. That’s fine.”

“We’ll see you soon.”

It’s silent for a second,

“Thanks Mom.”

He can hear the smile over the phone,

“Of course honey, I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Part One      Part Two 

[isitgintimeyet]

Road To The Aisles

AO3

Previous

Happy Sunday. Hope it’s a good one for everybody. Another chapter and the wedding is getting closer. Time for a hen party...Warning: nsfw

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge @wickedgoodbooks @happytoobserve and to everyone who reads, comments, likes or reblogs x

Chapter 20: A Convivial Carousing

“What's so unpleasant about being drunk?"

"Ask a glass of water!”

― Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Claire thought she had been quite clear about this to Geillis. She distinctly remembered sitting in her office a few weeks ago when the subject had first been broached. Geillis had run through a list of possible suggestions for a hen party; beginning with a weekend in Benidorm (“imagine, sangria by the bucketful and eye candy in speedos”) all the way to a meal out with friends (“nice and safe”) detouring via an Ann Summers’ sex party (“It’s jes’ like a Tupperware party, ye ken, but with more cocks”), skydiving (“that adrenaline rush, as good as sex, I reckon”) and a burlesque dance class (“yer man’ll thank ye fer it later”).

When Claire had vetoed all the suggestions apart from a meal and drinks with friends, Geillis had then changed tack and began listing some well prepared ideas to “make the evening go with a bang, aye?”. Using the power of veto once more, Claire had made clear her thoughts on ‘pin the cock on the hunk’, any games involving dares or forfeits, any performers of the semi-(or un-)clad variety or costumes announcing that they were a hen party.

Geillis had tutted vociferously but eventually shrugged and agreed to Claire’s conditions.

So, why was she now sitting in this cocktail bar, wearing a sash proclaiming her to be a bride, while sucking her (admittedly rather moreish) cocktail through a plastic penis? She looked along the table at her friends, each wearing a matching sash and all busy writing on cards provided by Geillis, sharing their tips for a sexually successful marriage.

Jenny caught her eye and smiled. “I dinna think I ought tae be suggesting sex tips fer ma baby brother. It’s a wee bit —“

“Yucky? Disturbing?” Isobel ventured.

Geillis just caught the tail end of the conversation. “Only if ye’re doing it right.”

She winked before resuming her writing.

Claire drained her cocktail and moved on to the next already waiting for her. She studied Geillis over the rim of her glass, noting the glint in her eye as she wrote her contribution on the card. No doubt sharing some tips from her and Dougal’s activities, Claire told herself, interesting to read but maybe not her and Jamie’s type of thing.

As Geillis worked her way around the table, gathering up the cards, the door of the bar opened and a ‘fireman’ came in, tall and broad shouldered in his overly tight uniform. He carried his helmet in one hand and a portable speaker in the other. He stood for a moment glancing around before spotting Claire and her friends. He strode towards them, a cheeky grin on his face.

Claire felt herself redden and prayed for the ground to swallow her up. She cursed the sash proclaiming her to be the bride again; she cursed the balloons, spelling out H-E-N, tied to her chair; but most of all, she cursed Geillis, who had promised faithfully that there would be absolutely no adult entertainment this evening.

She glared across at Geillis, who returned her gaze with a confused expression of her own and shook her head slightly. Claire quickly watched the rest of her friends for any knowing smiles.

By now, the fireman had reached their table.

“I’m here on an emergency. Someone,” he looked directly at Claire. “Someone is too hot to handle.”

He sucked the air through his teeth noisily, in a parody of a passionate sigh. Claire did the only thing possible. She drained her cocktail and reached for the next one waiting for her.

“So,” the fireman drawled in a fake American accent, rotating his hips suggestively. “I’m going to have to use my hose… my extra long—“

He stopped abruptly as one of the bar staff tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, gesturing to a room off the main bar area.

Shamefaced, the fireman shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, hen,” he now spoke with a broad Glaswegian accent. “This isna the right party. I’d best be heading.”

His eyes lingered on Geillis, now smiling coquettishly, before he turned and followed the barman. His arrival at the correct party was heralded by a series of loud whoops and cheers, clearly audible even over the hubbub of Saturday night two-for-one cocktail drinkers.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief and felt her stomach muscles unclench.

“Ye ken, Claire, I wouldna do something like that tae ye.” Geillis patted her hand. “I kent how much ye didna want that kind of thing. So, why don’t we have another cocktail, I’ll collect up the cards and we’ll see what kind of perverts ye have fer friends.”

Whether it was the sheer relief that Geillis had no embarrassing entertainment on the agenda, or the heady mix of cocktails coursing through Claire’s veins, but she finally decided to give in and throw herself wholeheartedly into the silly and potentially embarrassing hen party spirit.

Clearing her throat dramatically, she read each of the cards out loud, everyone trying to guess the originators. Some were obvious; who else but Geillis would have written about, in great graphic detail, a suggestion involving handcuffs, floggers and a black leather dominatrix outfit? And it was clearly Isobel who gave advice about the healing power of a hug. (“Not necessarily sexual,” she clarified. “But vital.”)

But Claire would never have guessed that it was Mary, the shy but efficient theatre nurse, who advised her to have a ‘toy cupboard’ next to the bed and always have spare batteries to hand. And as for a now clearly drunk Jenny’s confessions about her role playing adventures with Ian (a somewhat complex plot involving a Highland warrior and innocent serving wench fleeing the redcoats), well, Claire felt that was something best kept between the girls, and not to be shared with her future husband.

The rest of the evening passed in a whirl of chatter, laughter and alcohol. Claire knew she was drunk, not steaming drunk like Jenny, whose eyes were closed and her chin propped up with her hands, but in that tipsy phase when everything is wonderful… and shiny... and hilarious… and full of love.

Suddenly the bright overhead lights made Claire’s eyes begin to water. “What’s going on?” She asked.

Geillis began to gather up her belongings. “That’s it. It’s one am. Time tae go home.”

“But… but… can I not have another drink? I liked the..er.. orange one. Can I have another orange one?”

Geillis laughed and picked up Claire’s bags. “Ye’ve had about half a dozen different orange ones, Claire. It’s time fer the taxi.”

“Where’s Jenny?” Claire looked around.

“Ah, Weel, Isobel is seeing her home. I tell ye, it’s jes’ as well ye’ve some sensible friends, otherwise I dinna ken how ye’d go on. C’mon now, taxi’s waiting.”

Claire stood up as Geillis reached across and untied the balloons. Claire grabbed her arms and pulled her close.

“Can I thank you, G, for tonight, and for… well, for everything.” Her breath was warm on Geillis’s cheek. “You’re a real friend and, amazingly sober, I must say even after…”

Claire tried, unsuccessfully, to peer at her watch over Geillis’s shoulder. “...even after ...after lots and lots and lots of cocktails.”

Geillis kissed her cheek. “Nae bother, I didna have a lot tae drink. I knew ye wasna a big fan of the whole hen party thing and I wanted tae make sure this night was jes’ right fer ye. Now let’s get ye home. Back tae yer fiancé.”

“Thank you, G… have I already said that?” Claire started to follow Geillis out of the bar then stopped abruptly, putting her hand to her mouth.

“What’s the matter? Ye’re no’ going tae puke are ye?” Geillis quickly began to search for a plastic bag.

“No… no, I’m not puking, but, G, imagine… it’s all thanks to you that I’m here, getting married to Jamie. If you hadn’t given him my number in ED, we would never have got together, never dated, never fallen in love…” Claire sniffed and rubbed her eyes.

“Och, away wi’ ye. I tell ye, the pair of ye were born fer each other. Ye would have met either way. Mebbe me giving him yer number was jes’ a shortcut.” Geillis gave Claire a quick hug before pulling away. “Now come on, the taxi driver will have started his meter and I am no’ paying any more than the price I agreed on the phone!”

************

Jamie glanced at his watch as the doorbell rang. He yawned, stretched and switched the television off before walking to the front door.

The doorbell rang again. As he unlocked the door, it rang for a third time, a prolonged, urgent ring. He opened the door to find Claire giggling as she leant against the door frame, her shoulder pressing into the doorbell.

He waved to Geillis in the waiting taxi before following Claire into the hall. She spun around and flung herself into Jamie’s arms, nearly causing him to lose his balance. Ignoring his sudden exhalation of air, she kissed him noisily on the lips before nuzzling his neck and blowing raspberries against his skin.

“A good night, I take it. And a wee bit drunk too,  are we?” Jamie ventured a guess.

Claire pulled away, indignantly. “No, I’m not. Are you? You seem a bit unsteady there on your feet.”

“Well, what have you been drinking then?”

“Oh, some absolutely scrummy cocktails. I started with a slow comfortable screw. Have you had one of those?”

Jamie smiled. “Frequently.”

“How about a slow comfortable screw against the wall?”

“No’ fer a while.”

“And I had a silk panties martini… to match what I’m wearing.” Claire undid the zip on her jeans to confirm.

“Then I had a couple of flaming orgasms… mmm, so good.”

“Ah so, multiple orgasms. I tend tae stick tae the one, myself.”

“And I think there might have been a slippery nipple in there somewhere,” she hiccuped.

Jamie steered Claire to the stairs. “You head up tae bed, Sassenach.”

“Are you not coming too?” She pouted.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Just locking up.”

***************

Armed with a bottle of water and two paracetamol for the morning, Jamie entered the bedroom, fully expecting Claire to be fast asleep and snoring. On the contrary, she was still very much awake, lying on top of the covers, clad only in a red thong and matching red bra. The rest of her clothes lay in a heap on the floor.

“See, red silk panties,” she giggled, flicking the elastic on the thong.

“Aye, not quite silk though, jes’ a wee bit of lace as far as I can see. Now, come on, get in tae bed. Ye’ll be needing yer sleep.”

“But I’m not tired,” she protested as she scrambled onto her hands and knees and worked her way down the bed to where Jamie stood. “C’mon, Mr. Fraser, let’s have some fun.”

She knelt up and let her hands run around the waistband of his jogging bottoms, her fingernails lightly raking the skin.

Jamie inhaled deeply. “Claire, Sassenach, no. I dinna want tae take advantage of ye when ye’re drunk.”

“Jamie,” Claire’s voice was stern. “I may have had a few to drink, but I am fully aware of what I am doing...”

She edged the waistband down over his hips, his cock already standing proud. She ran a finger down its length, watching Jamie’s stomach muscles tense as he tried to calm the sensations she was arousing. He could feel her breath warm against his thigh.

“... And so it seems does our friend here. Don’t fight me, Jamie. I’ve had a plastic penis in my mouth for most of the evening. Now it’s time for the real thing.”

Grabbing his buttocks, she pulled Jamie closer to her before bringing one hand to cup his balls, massaging them in her palm. She wrapped her other hand around the base of his cock as she took him fully in her mouth.

Jamie closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to succumb to Claire’s ministrations. The warmth of her mouth as she rhythmically worked up and down, her tongue stroking and caressing made him harder than he thought possible. He entwined his fingers in her wild curls, encouraging her to take more of his length into her mouth.

He pulled back slightly as he felt his excitement building, keen to try and prolong the experience. Claire moaned, a small mew of disappointment, and brought him closer to her again, resuming the same relentless rhythm.

His breathing grew ragged. “Sassenach,” he groaned. “Sassenach, I canna … I canna…”

She felt his release, warm in her mouth as he stilled then withdrew. Jamie, panting, opened his eyes to see Claire, kneeling back on her heels, her curls in wild disarray, cheeks flushed, breasts nearly escaping from the confines of her bra. Her nipples, dark and erect, were visible through the red lace, her panties clearly damp.

She smiled, a lazy smile of self satisfaction as she swallowed then licked her lips. Jamie gasped at this wanton image in front of him.

“Sassenach,” his voice was husky. “I’ve an idea. Can I get our special camera?”

Claire nodded. “Ooh, yes. I’ve a couple of ideas myself, Mr. Fraser.”

As Jamie went in search of the camera, Claire lay back on the pillows and laughed. All those tips tonight for a successful sex life, she told herself, and I don’t think we’ll need any help in that area… ever.