#and she was even stupid enough to think that olivia might have been willing to let it go when she agreed to work at gravitas

[arolesbianism]

I've been thinking more abt raccoon universe Olivia again and I love her sm she's so fun imagine if your wife plagiarized years of your work and then cut you out of her life with no warning and then had the audacity to invite you to work at the company she founded on the basis of the very work she stole from you. Id have considered murder Way sooner than she did Jackie is lucky Olivia went with the thinly veiled threats route for several years before finally getting a bit bloodthirsty

[jelestes]

the one where casey falls in love

casey x olivia — oneshot/headcanon

₊ ⊹

not in a million years casey would’ve imagine that elizabeth donnelly’s call would led her to what life is right now.

she thought it was a prank call at first, not having heard from the — now — supreme court judge in nearly 5 years, that would be the only rational and logical thing to think.

turns out it wasn’t.

of course casey was resistant at first, yes elizabeth donnelly personally asking you to take over svu’s DA office is a huge deal and isn’t something you accept right away specially not if it’s a sunday night and you have a fair share of wine on your system.

she had lived comfortably throughout the past 11 years, teaching at UCLA, working for non profitable organizations, being Santa Monica’s white collar division DA, hell she even had time to date! (not that the dating aspect of her life was exactly thriving but still). if she was being really honest, her heart had never quite left new york or svu.

or olivia benson.

the first few days were hard, despite being years since her brady violation she knew people would still hold it over her head but casey novak was never one to scare easily or shy away and that’s why donnelly called her.

after everything she’s seen and lived, she was even more fierce and passionate about the job and truth to be told she has been waiting for a chance to come back, she got one now and was more than willing to not let herself or anyone to get in the way of it, except, of course, said “anyone” had brown chocolate hair and eyes.

it had been a slow day, a tedious one even, when olivia barged in her office ready chew her a good one (god only knowing why), she froze on the spot when she saw casey. that was the first time they saw each other after over a decade.

she hadn’t changed a bit, despite looking older, she was still the feisty, fierce, gorgeous — not interest in casey the way casey was — looking olivia she fell in love with many years ago.

despite the initial shock they seemed glad to see each other again, well, casey certainly was, she was also certain by the time she heard her name out of olivia’s lips she was damned.

they fell into a routine pretty quickly, now that olivia was a captain (it was still weird for casey not to tease her with the word detective) they had to spend more time together, even more so than they did the first time around.

of course olivia would pass half of said time picking up stupid fights with casey, they clashed a lot and not because they were different people but because in some ways they were too alike.

sure, casey going after carisi every other five seconds wasn’t helping (he needed mentoring and casey was a tough love kind of teacher) but olivia interfering wasn’t doing any good either, not that casey actually minded the bickering, she found olivia to be at her hottest while angry but things were getting too tiring and as much as she loved that tension electric filled air olivia brought to her office she also wanted to feel appreciated, to feel she was good enough for once. a fucking thank you wouldn’t kill olivia, would it? that’s more than she got.

they had a particularly nasty fight, it was just a little past midnight, she had barely gotten home from the DA’s office when she heard someone knocking on her door, to her surprise it was olivia.

she let her in, they were successfully making amends until they picked up yet another argument, tired and not ready to kick her out of her house casey simply asked “what do you want for me?” and that’s when olivia did the unthinkable. she kissed casey.

olivia likes to think that this was when it all begun and that might be true, for the physical part at least, but casey knows that this was 20 years in the making. casey had fell for olivia the minute she laid eyes on her.

they tried to keep quiet about it but both were running out of excuses to give and there was way too many eye witnesses to their friendly-flirty banter.

they told fin first, he wasn’t at all shocked. amanda second, but she said she knew the moment casey walked in that squad room this was bound to happen (she was of course right), carisi pretended he didn’t care but he was happy for olivia and relieved that casey was being a lot softer on him now that she was head over heels for the captain.

she told donnelly over the phone, too afraid to tell her in person she waited until the judge was out of town to break the news, so certain she was about to get lectured casey had nothing but a confused look in her eyes when she heard nothing but a soft laugher coming from the other side of the line, “looks like you finally got your girl, counselor” said elizabeth.

and boy, she did.

fantasizing about being with olivia for over a decade was something, but being with her was a whole other thing.

now one year into dating the captain she learned that olivia is secretly a hugger, she’s straight up a stand up comedian whenever she’s in the mood, she’s ticklish although she will lie trough her teeth about it, she has the warmest lips casey ever had the pleasure to kiss, her body is addictive and so is her mind.

she’s both a coffee and tea person, she loves board games (and is a sore loser), she rather be bored out of her mind at hers and noah’s softball practices or games than not attending them. she brings casey flowers every friday night, she says it’s her way to apologize for being such a terrible cook and not helping enough in the kitchen but casey knows is because she is a hopelessly romantic.

olivia fights demons casey can’t quite comprehend but she let’s her in, she shares and trusts casey with them. if olivia’s the sea, casey is the shore.

one year into dating olivia benson, casey can safely say, reality is better than any scenario she could’ve ever imagine.

[longsightmyth]

“Celeste was half-naked up against him in a hallway!” I accused, pointing a finger at her.

Her mouth popped open. “How did you know?”

“Has everyone been getting naked with Maxon?” Elise asked, horrified.

“We weren’t naked!” I shouted.

“Okay,” Kriss said, putting out her arms. “We need to clear this up. Who has done what with Maxon?”

Elise says she's kissed him three times. Kriss says she hasn't kissed him at all [on the lips] but he would if she let him.

“Well, I’ve kissed him plenty.” Celeste flipped her hair, deciding to be proud instead of embarrassed. “The best was in the hallway one night.” She eyed me. “We kept whispering about how exciting it was that we might get caught.”

Honestly I believe her. That's a big kink, and Maxon kept making out with her after noticing America eas there and left, so. Own it, Celeste. Everyone turns to America.

“I was Maxon’s first kiss, not Olivia. I didn’t want anyone to know. And we’ve had a few . . . more intimate moments, and one of those times Maxon’s shirt came off.”

I mean you're Maxon's first kiss as far as you know, but he also didn't tell you about kissing Elise or making out with Celeste, so what is the truth.

Anyway Kriss is like, okay now we all know where we stand, but frankly I would be more confused about my standing in Maxon's affections and his intentions than ever before if I was in the room with them in this moment.

Elise is like, uh. Where do we stand. And nobody has an answer, which checks out. America takes this moment to say that actually her moments with Maxon were deep and meaningful and she really cares about Maxon.

Celeste is like, excuse you, you think we don't?

(I really hope none of you actually really care about him but that cause was lost a long time ago, rip Bariel, you were a real one)

America says she knows Celeste doesn't give a shit. Celeste is like, excuse the fuck out of you.

“Celeste, it’s no secret that you want someone with power. I’m willing to bet you like Maxon well enough, but you’re not in love with him. You’re shooting for the crown.”

Without denying it, she turned on Elise.

Yeah? So? It's not like YOU were here for Maxon originally, god help me but I was about to call them the good old days.

Anyway Celeste says she hasn't seen any emotion from Elise (because of course Elise is the meek and retiring New Asian girl), and Elise says she is just reserved and she may not be head over heels but she could respect Maxon.

Please no, Elise, the man deserves no respect.

“In my family, all the marriages are arranged. I knew what was coming for me, and that’s all this is. I may nothing be head over heels for Maxon, but I respect him. Love can come later.”

Sympathetically, Kriss spoke. “That actually sounds kind of sad, Elise.”

Kris your family doesn't let you kiss until you're engaged, whereupon they expect to witness the first kiss. Let she who does not live in a creepy fundie cult wet dream cast the first fucking stone.

“It’s not. There are bigger things than love.”

We stared at Elise, her words echoing. I fought for my family out of love, and for Aspen, too. And now, though it scared me to think it, I was sure that all my actions where Maxon was concerned—even when they were hopelessly stupid—were driven by that feeling. Still, what if there was something more important here than that?

No, excuse me, I have to step back because I'm laughing too hard. AMERICA. Trying to pretend it isn't all about which boy she wants to bang. God the hilarity.

[demigodreading]

Saving Mini Benson Pt:1

Request: From @youngjusticeimaginesus��:  Hi, I was wondering If maybe you'd be willing to do a oneshot where Olivia's daughter gets kidnapped by Lewis instead of Olivia?

Summary: That’s right my favorite peoples... This is going to be a two part mini series because there was no way everything that I needed to say could be done in a one-shot! I won’t go into much because I don’t want to give it away but please note THIS PART IS A DOOZY! The next one may be worse but still this arc made me cry in the show and I cried writing this

Characters: Olivia Benson, Fin Tutuola, Amanda Rollins, Nick Amaro, William Lewis, Donald Cragen, Reader

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Daughter! Reader

Warnings: MAJOR Violence, Guns, Cigarette Burns, Episode Spoilers, Alcohol, Smoking Weed, Mentions of Shootings, Death, William Lewis, Mentions of torture... (I Think that covers it but if it doesn’t please let me know)

Word Count: 2320 (Like I said.. there was no way this was gonna be just a oneshot.)

And with that all being said: Let’s jump into it.

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

Olivia and her daughter rarely fought but when they did neither one wanted to admit the other one was right. Olivia loved and hated her daughter for being so similar to her. Even now as she watched the miniature version of herself stalk the interview room the exact same way she would send her heart racing. Usually the similarities would result in a smile but not today. Today Olivia’s vision was a deep red as she confronted her daughter.

“Y/N you were caught smoking weed underneath the bleachers during class! So not only did you break one rule you broke two!” Olivia shouted, folding her arms.

“Wow glad that you know how to count,” Y/N mumbled looking out the window.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Look mom I just don’t get what the big deal is? It was one joint. One class!” Y/N retorted, throwing her hands up, “I am a straight A student who has a full ride scholarship to Harvard.”

“Yes, because Barba stuck his neck out on the line for you and put in a glowing recommendation,” Olivia spat, “What you did was careless. You could have ruined everything that was given to you.”

“You know for once in your life could you ever be fucking proud of me! I do everything that I can do to make you proud and yet at the end of the day I am never fucking good enough for you.”

“That’s not…” Olivia went to argue but was interrupted by Cragen opening the door.

“Olivia we got a problem. I need you right now,” He said, then shut the door without waiting for an answer.

“Just go save another poor unfortunate soul mom. Don’t worry about your daughter.  I’ll pick up my own pieces like I always do,” Y/N said, wiping tears from her face as she grabbed her coat.

Y/N stormed from the room before Olivia could stop her. She made her way through the precinct eyes trained to the floor as her mother’s voice rang out, “You better head straight home Y/N!  We are not done having this conversation and you are grounded!”

Choosing not to say anything, Y/N merely raised her hand in the air flipping her mother off before the doors shut with a loud slam behind her. Tears made dark spots on the concrete as Y/N made her way back to their apartment. Even the noises of the constant car honks and people screaming couldn’t drown out the voices in her head today. Failure. Waste of space. Stupid. No one. Unwanted. Unloved. 

It was the repeated song that kept her feet moving forward until she finally placed her key in the lock. She threw her bag by the kitchen island and threw her keys on the counter. She was about to turn on the living room light when a noise caught her attention. 

“Hello? Hello?”

As she turned the corner her vision was filled with the sight of a gun pointed right at her temple. A smirk crossed William Lewis’ face as he looked at Y/N, “Ah welcome home Little Benson. I was hoping that it would be your mother who was walking through the door but I guess you will have to do.”

Y/N went to scream but instead Lewis jammed the gun against her throat, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. One small slip of my finger and your mom will be left with a new kind of art all over her walls.”

Y/N let a single tear roll down her face before Lewis’ gun made contact with her skull and the whole world went black.

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

Olivia had already tried to call Y/N twice but it kept going straight to voicemail. The last known location had been their apartment so at least she had the sense to head straight home. The guilt in Olivia’s stomach was insurmountable. Watching her daughter explain that she never felt like she lived up to her standards. Olivia had promised herself when she had Y/N she would never end up like her mother. Yet there she was shaming her child for one mistake. Y/N was more than just a good kid, she was excellent. She was smart, beautiful, humorous, kind, and so much more. She was everything Olivia could have ever hoped for. Knowing that her daughter thought she wasn’t proud was the worst pain she could have.

After the third call Olivia finally decided to leave a voicemail, “Y/N I know you are mad but I need you to know something. I am proud of you and will always be proud of you. You are the best daughter and the most amazing human. I was rough on you early. Please let’s talk through this. I’ll be home soon with your favorite Chinese. Just don’t do anything stupid? I love you.”

When she hung up the phone she placed her head in her hands and let out a large sigh. Fin placed a reassuring hand on her back, “Liv, it is going to be okay. She is just being a teenager.”

“No Fin, you should have seen her. It was like I was physically taking her heart out and ripping it in front of her. I should have never said those things. I didn’t mean any of them… I was just upset.”

“She knows, they always know.”

Olivia merely shook her head and began to gather her things to head home. She walked out of the precinct without a goodbye and headed down the street to Y/N’s favorite Chinese place. They knew what she was going to order as soon as she walked in the door asking where Y/N was. Liv pushed off their question and scrolled through her phone as she waited for the food. Y/N’s phone was still off giving Olivia an eerie feeling as she finished the walk to the apartment. 

Once inside she noticed Y/N’s bag on the floor and her keys on the counter. There was a sudden rush of cold air that made her notice the window that was open to the fire escape. She shut it quickly and then moved to Y/N’s room. The door was still open with everything the way she had left it that morning. Once her calls were unanswered Olivia opened the window again crawling onto the fire escape. Sometimes Y/N would go to the roof to watch the sun slowly crawl behind the buildings.When she reached the top however she was met with an unsettling emptiness. 

Olivia reached for her phone to call the only person who was able to calm her anxiety lately, “Amaro, Y/N isn’t here. I can’t find her. What if something happened to her?”

“She probably just went to a friend’s house to get away,” Amaro replied stirring the contents of his drink, “She will be back in the morning just to relax. Sleep off the anger and come back with a clear head tomorrow.”

Liv pondered this suggestion over and over deciding what she should do. When the silence became too long Amaro interjected again, “Liv, I’m serious. You two had the biggest blow out that I have seen in awhile. Give her time to be mad at you and think. If you smother her she might only push further away from you.” She thanked her partner for the advice and then shoved her phone back in her pocket taking a sweep of the roof once again. Finally she slowly made her way back to the apartment shutting the window with a slam before locking it. Olivia wandered over to the kitchen moving the cereal that covered the top of the fridge to get to her secret cupboard. From the opening she pulled a large bottle of her favorite red wine. She popped the cork and decided to forgo a cup taking a long swig directly from the green glass. A large sigh escaped her lips as she plopped down on the couch going over the events of the day in her head.

As the contents of the bottle slowly drained till there was nothing else Olivia realized her fears were all coming true. She was becoming her mother. A woman she never once wanted to be. Three empty bottles later she finally curled under Y/N’s sheets crying into her pillow until she finally was able to fall asleep.

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

The next morning when Y/N did not return and her phone was still shut down all bets were off. Olivia was furious but more importantly she was terrified. Something was horribly wrong. Her morning was spent talking to Y/N’s two best friends and searching their houses for her. When that search was unsuccessful Olivia went to the school hoping Y/N had gone there. However, she had been absent all day and there hadn’t even been a call to excuse her from the day. 

When the morning bled into the afternoon Olivia was running around the city to all of Y/N’s usual hangout spots. The search of the library told her that Y/N hadn’t been there in over a week. The local bakery hadn’t seen her in three days. The coffee shop where Y/N always bought Olivia’s coffee when she came to see her at work had seen her two mornings ago but nothing since then. Even the old lady that had Y/N over twice a week to help her with errands and chores around the house hadn’t seen her. 

It was dark by the time that Olivia fell into her desk chair at the precinct. With her head in her hands she let the tears fall. A whole day was gone and there was still no sign of her daughter. If she had been kidnapped they were running out of time and losing it quickly. The longer she was out there the longer the person had to get away with whatever they wanted.

The squad huddled around in Cragen’s office looking at Olivia curled over her desk. Rollins was the first one to speak, “I bet you Lewis has something to do with this.”

“And what makes you think that?” Amaro asked, “There are plenty of people who could have a vendetta against Liv.”

“It’s just a feeling.”

“Yeah well have you ever considered the idea that maybe Y/N just ran away,” Amaro retorted.

Fin, Cragen, and Amanda all turned towards Amaro, shocked. Cragen was the first one to speak, “I know you haven’t been here long Amaro but this isn’t Y/N. Something is horribly wrong and we are going to figure out what is going on. Fin and Amanda go check out Lewis’ usual hiding spots. I’ll take Liv through her apartment once again to see if we missed anything.”

“And me cap?”

“Amaro… you stay here and set up a tip line,” Cragen responded curtly and then they all disappeared to find where Y/N had disappeared to.

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

Y/N woke with a jolt as she felt cold water splash her face. She was met with Lewis staring only a couple inches away from her face. He grinned and grabbed Y/N’s chin as she tried to look away, “Well well there. Looks like someone is finally awake. Feeling thirsty?”

Y/N nodded her head yes waiting to scream as he curled his fingers around the edge of the duct tape. As he was about to pull it away he jammed a gun against Y/N’s throat, “Make any noise and I will shove this gun straight down your throat.”

Finally when he pulled the tape away Y/N spit right in his face, “Just shoot me already if you are going to threaten me with it.”

“And miss out on all of our fun Mini Benson. I think not. There is plenty that I want to do to you before then.”

Y/N began to panic as Lewis lit another cigarette. She remembered the way the others had burned against her chest and sides. She had lost count after twenty perfect circle burns and after the second pistol whip to the face she had passed out a second time, She couldn’t go through all of that again.

“My mom knows I am missing and she will be out looking for me. Just let me go and she will never have to know that you did it. Please,” YN begged.

“What is she going to think about that bruise on your face? Or the marks on your skin? I can’t let you go… plus I know that you both fought before you came home. I bet you that she thinks you just ran away and are leaving her,” Lewis chuckled.

“How.. how did you know that we fought?

“This lovely voicemail your mother left you,” Lewis said, placing your phone against your ear.

Tears began to run down Y/N’s face as she heard the apology her mother had sent her. Damnit! Why did I have to fight with her? We could have avoided all of this. Is the mantra that ran through her head as Lewis slammed the phone against her head and threw it at the wall.

“She isn’t coming for you,” Lewis snickered.

“Please… just let me go. I will do anything.”

Lewis pulled his gun and placed it against Y/N’s scalp, “You are still bargaining with me? Really. We are way past that baby.”

“I am the daughter of an NYPD detective. A decorated well known detective. My mother, her partner, her squad, the entire department will hunt you down. You think that you’ve put people through hell. It will rain back down on you.”

“You know what… let it rain,” Lewis said and then hit Y/N once again making her world go black for a third time. 

[happy-whumper]

Food Poisoning

Is this..actual content? Damn who would have thought that would happen again 💀🤣

For a bit of context, this is set before Olivia came to Nicolas, actually her last 'owner' before him.

psh psh @darklyria, come simp for the Evil bastard Man~

CW: Poisoning/Drugging, Starvation, Vomiting, begging, creepy/intimate whumper, noncon touching (non sexual), pet whump (if I forgot anything, please let me know and I will add it!)

5 days. It had been 5 days since Olivia had last eaten.

She was laying on her back on the wooden floor, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the aching emptiness in her stomach, another wave of nausea washing over her, causing her to tightly close her eyes.

Deep breaths.

Easier said than done, considering the just slightly too tight collar around her neck. Not quite tight enough to fully cut off her airflow but enough to cause her breathing to be labored and shaking lightly. She tried to swallow but her mouth was completely dried out, leaving an almost stale taste behind.

At the door stood two people, a man and a woman.Olivia didn’t need to turn her head to know that they were there. She didn’t know their names or maybe she had known them at some point and just forgotten.

Either way it didn’t matter, they never did anything to help her anyways. Just stood there, watching. Making sure she didn’t try anything stupid.

These times were still the closest she came to having some peace, the closest she came to being alone. But they never lasted long.

As if on command she heard awfully familiar footsteps approaching. Confident, determined and almost..relaxed in a way.

Olivia shivered, both from the dreadful anticipation as well as the almost numbing cold she had been feeling for the past days.

She tried to somehow prepare herself for what was about to come, knowing full well it wouldn’t have any use anyways.

As the door opened and a tall, blond man in a casually expensive looking white shirt walked in, Olivia had just managed to at least half sit up, still mainly leaning on her hand and elbow. Something about the man caused all the attention to immediately shift towards him, something he was clearly very aware of.

He was grinning, there was something smug about it, that made Olivia want to punch him, but since that wasn’t exactly possible she instead resorted to glaring dagger at him, only causing his smile to only get even more amused.

“Aw, well someone doesn’t look happy to see me…”

Clenching her jaw Olivia tried to push herself up a bit more, but failed because of the weakness in her muscles. “Yeah I wonder why.”

Nathan just laughed at that, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “What’s wrong Princess, not in a good mood today?” The ‘nickname’ made her skin crawl and she wasn’t sure if the next wave of nausea came from hunger or pure disgust by the man looking down on her.

She didn’t bother responding, which he didn’t seem to care about too much. He stepped a bit closer, crouching down in front of her and firmly grabbing her chin, causing her to instinctively pull away. “Ah, ah, ah, what did I say about pulling away from me, hm?” His voice was still calm but she didn’t miss the warning undertone in it causing her to immediately freeze.

He chuckled lightly to himself, lightly brushing his thumb over her chin, causing a feeling of discomfort and disgust to send a shiver down her spine. “That’s what I thought,” he made a gesture to the man standing at the door, causing him to move out of Olivia’s view, leaving her a bit uneasy as Nathan started talking again, “Well, I actually have something that might cheer you up a bit Princess~”.

She felt her heart drop, her eyes immediately going wider. That never meant anything good…

A few seconds later the broader man appeared again, handing Nathan something she instantly recognised, only increasing the feeling of unease in her chest and causing the hairs on her arms to stand up.

“No! Get that..fucking thing away from me!” Rapidly shaking her head and almost crawling backwards, she stared at the short, black leash in his hand. The man in front of her just smirked at her reaction, a hint of impatience.

“Hm, I see someone’s decided to be… difficult today, hm pet?”, he leaned back a bit, lightly tapping has chin as if he was considering something, looking towards the man next to him, “I am not sure if such an ungrateful pet deserves to eat after all…”

At his last words Olivia's head immediately snapped up, a sudden feeling of desperation taking over her, still awfully aware of her empty stomach. “No, please I’m sorry I-”, his head turned towards her, lightly raising an eyebrow with an expectant grin on his face. For a moment she stayed silent, her mouth feeling even more dried out than before, swallowing hard and as a result feeling the tight collar press into her throat. She knew exactly what he wanted to hear and even though a part of her wanted anything but to give in to him, the bigger, more present and louder part was desperate, willing to do anything to just get something to eat.

“P-please Sir...I’m sorry I…”, she closed her eyes for a moment, almost forcing the words out, “I’ll be good Sir, I promise, please!” Her cheeks burned from embarrassment and humiliation but as she opened her eyes again and saw the satisfied smile on his face, she knew that it had been convincing enough.

“Hm, I love hearing you beg like this… So desperate, aren’t you princess?” Olivia bit the inside of her lip so hard that the faint taste of blood filled her mouth but she nodded, her eyes glued to the ground. “Y-yes Sir…”

“Good pet.”

About 45 minutes later, Olivia could finally remember what it was like to not feel hungry again, almost allowing her to relax a bit.

She lightly glanced up to Nathan who was sitting in a chair at the head of a conference room-like table, calmly listening to the other Man around the table talking and discussing. Despite the fact that she was kneeling next to him, the humiliation burning through her, she almost felt...grateful.

As if it hadn’t been Nathan who had starved her in the first place.

Suddenly a wave of dizziness came over her, prompting her to close her eyes for a moment, trying to fight the dazed feeling, not thinking too much of it.

The sudden feeling of a hand in her hair made her flinch, her eyes instinctively flying open, from the corner of her eye noticing the light smirk on the Man’s face.

She let out a breath, trying her best to just ignore it and focus on something else.

Only a few minutes later she once again started feeling light-headed, more severe than the first time, causing her to suck in a sharp breath, catching Nathan’s attention again.

“Everything alright dear?” His voice sounded almost concerned, if Olivia’s mind hadn’t been so woozy she would have picked up on the fake sincerity behind it. As it was though, she just nodded slowly, suddenly feeling nauseous, her eyes going wide, shifting on her knees.

Nathan chuckled lightly to himself, tightening the grip in her hair lightly, but she barely even registered it over the sudden stabbing pain in her stomach, letting out a pained gasp.

She quickly shut her eyes again, the nausea and dizziness getting worse by the second. It felt like the whole room was spinning, the floor underneath her shifting and turning, leaving her dazed and disoriented.

What the hell…

What she couldn’t see was the cruel smile spreading across Nathan's face as he leaned back in his chair, watching Olivia. More to himself, not loud enough for Olivia to hear, he chuckled lightly “Well that worked faster than I expected… “. He gestured to one of his ‘assistants’, signaling him to walk over to him.

"Yeah, Boss?" Nathan didn't even so much as turn his head, his eyes fixated on his pet, who's gaze was getting more glossy and distant. "Take my pet back to my room, I'll be there as soon as this here is done. Until then you stay with her and watch her. Wouldn't want to risk any...more permanent damage."

The man Paused for a Moment, getting a mildly confused look on his face, frowning lightly. "Uh… With all due respect Sir, you want me to play Babysitter?".

At that Nathan turned to him, raising an eyebrow "Is there a Problem? James, isn't it?", as the other nodded he continued talking, "Now I understand it that you're new here, so let me explain something to you. If I say something, you do it, you don't question me, you don't give any comments on it, you simply Follow the Order. I pay you enough for you to simply do that, don't you Think?" His voice had gotten colder now, a clear warning to not test his patience any further.

James nodded quickly, clearly a bit more intimidated now. "Oh yes of course Boss. Sorry." He lightly cleared bis throat and Nathan just nodded swiftly, turning his attention back to the men at the Table whose conversation had fallen quiet, the attention turned towards the Man sitting at the head of the Table. "Excuse me Gentlemen, just something small I had to take care of, please continue".

As the conversation slowly started again, the taller Man, James, Walked around the Chair, harshly grabbing Olivia's arm and pulling her up. The sudden motion combined with the nearly overwhelming dizziness caused her to stumble and almost fall, reflexively reaching out to the nearest surface, in that case the armrest of Nathan's chair, grabbing onto it as though her life was dependent on it.

Without turning around, Nathan put a Hand on Olivia's back, something that would have normally made her skin crawl but she was almost grateful for now.

"Careful. I would hate for you to damage my property."

By the time they were back in the bedroom, Olivia was sure that she was dying.

Every part of her body was taken over by an aching, hot pain, making her feel like she was burning from the inside out.

Her stomach felt like it was being cut open from the inside by a thousand tiny knives, leaving her almost breathless. In Addition to that she felt a burning fire build up behind her eyes, Lifting her arms up with a groan and pressing her Hands against her temples, granting a short Relief of the burning heat.

That Relief only lasted until the overwhelming nausea caused her to empty the insides of her stomach into the Toilet in front of her.

She couldn't remember how she even got to the bathroom floor but at that Moment she also didn't have the energy to Think about it, as the bitter taste of bile made her gag again, despite her stomach being completely emptied out.

Hot tears were running down her face, a ragged sob shaking up her whole body. She let herself drop to the cold floor, savouring the short alleviation of the cold, pulling her knees up to her chest, hoping for any sort of relief to the pain. But it never came. If anything, it just got worse the more time passed, making her feel like her insides were twisting and turning in cruel agony.

As a sudden, almost stabbing feeling went through her she wanted to scream, but her body was too worn out to bring up the energy, only managing a broken whimper. Olivia once again screwed her eyes shut, hoping that she might at least pass out so the pain would stop.

While she collapsed on the floor, James was standing in the doorway, his back turned away from her, frowning in annoyance. He hadn’t been paying too much attention to what exactly she was doing, still irritated about the fact that he had to ‘babysit’ now.

He scoffed, shaking his head lightly and crossed his arms in front of his chest, half glaring at the door across the room.

If I had known that this was part of the job I would have thought twice before taking it…

At the sound of a broken sob he turned around, narrowing his eyes but instantly freezing at the sight before him.

The girl, or 'pet' as his Boss referred to her, was lying on the stone tiles curled up in a fetal position, her breathing unsteady and interrupted by muffled sobs, her whole body trembling and shaking.

He felt his stomach drop, a sickening feeling spreading throughout his body. From the others he had heard about how his new Boss treated his ‘pets’, that it was just to be ignored, but this was the first time he had witnessed it first hand.

James didn’t even know her name and yet he felt awful seeing her lying there, her pale face almost matching the colour of the tiles her head was resting on and the pained whimpers escaping her throat.

But he knew that there wasn’t anything he could do to help her, no matter how much he wanted to. The others had warned him about that too, it would easily cost him his job if not worse and at the end of the day, it would only make things worse for her as well.

So all he did was stand there, watching her with an almost overwhelming feeling of helplessness.

About 10 minutes later, the bedroom door opened and the tall blond Man stepped through, a relaxed smile on his face. James had turned around again, not bearing the sight of the girl suffering any longer.

As Nathan walked towards him, his smile only seemed to widen, causing James to feel sick. How could he seem so...happy while another person was clearly in misery? He shivered lightly, keeping his gaze on the wall across from him.

Nathan glanced at him lightly from the side, smirking. “Now, was ‘babysitting’ really so bad?” James didn’t respond but the other Man clearly didn’t really look for an answer anyways, walking past him and crouching down in front of the girl who was still trembling violently.

If he hadn't known better, James would have thought that the way Nathan looked down on her was almost… caring. But that was only until he saw the sadistic amusement in his eyes, as he brushed a strand of hair that was sticking to the sweat drenching her forehead, to the side.

"You can leave now." He didn't turn around as he gave the command and James didn't hesitate to leave the room, not turning back once.

Olivia could feel the light touch, too exhausted even so much as flinch. She heard him chuckle lightly but it felt as though the Sound was muffled through a thick veil.

"Please…", her voice was barely above a whisper, shaking and unsteady, "Please, Sir I-i'm sorry, I-i-i..i'll be good, I promise!".

Another Wave of pain shot through her, forcing out a broken sob. "Please...please just m-make it s-stop...It hurts…"

Nathan just watched her with increasing satisfaction, fully enjoying seeing her broken down like that. "Oh you're so pretty begging and crying for me like this princess…"

Chuckling lightly to himself, he tilted his head to the side a bit. "Let's get you somewhere a bit more comfortable, hm?"

The last thing Olivia became aware of, was the feeling of someone picking her up, instinctively grabbing onto Nathan's shoulder for support to fight the new wave of lightheadedness before closing her eyes again, the darkness finally taking over and letting her escape into the temporary safety of unconsciousness.

Taglist: @starnight-whump, @jordanstrophe, @froggywhumpy, @whumpasaurus101, @as-a-matter-of-whump, @jojothepanwithoutaplan, @myst-in-the-mirror, @whumpsweetwhump, @darklyria

[narcissasdaffodil]

9 for micro stories <3

I did say I’d eventually get around to writing this, so here you go. I have a lot of these to write, so have a Hopisol/ Marisope oneshot x Sticking the A03 link here too x

I would ruin myself for you a million times

Marisol made her way upstairs to the roof terrace in search of peace from the drama downstairs. She had wanted to check on Hope, after the argument with Priya and the considerable mess that resulted. Bobby had tried to get her involved in Operation Nope, but she refused. Guess your feelings don’t matter to him, right. Not surprising. He’s been hung up on Rowan since the start, they were only coupled up at the beginning and she easily left him for Rocco and Lucas. As for Lucas, there was no chance for you there either, you want your best friend to be happy, right? But at the same time, she was willing to risk her friendship with Hope and relationship with Lucas for Noah, which is quite cruel. Your plan here was to be cutthroat and selfish, yet being one of the most unpopular people here is too difficult to keep up. And Gary didn’t even give you a proper chance, he kissed Lottie the same night!

She perched on the bench, looking out at the night. She wanted to stay clear of the time bomb ready to explode and part of her admired Rowan for having the guts to go for Noah like that. She couldn’t judge because of what she had done with Rocco was similar; Rowan appearing entirely smitten with him.

She felt tears spill over and she curled up, resting her chin on her knees.

Hope sat next to her silently. She looked at the other girl, noticing the unshed tears at the corners of her eyes, and she moved closer to Hope. “This always happens to me. I got scared by being too close with someone and I fell too fast. You might have had the right idea in only being out for yourself, at least that way I wouldn’t be like this, letting people betray me like that.”

Marisol sighed and fiddled with a loose curl. “I couldn’t keep that up for long. All my relationships have fallen apart entirely, so I’m not sure if I’m the one to emulate here. But my friendships with Noah and Rowan kept me sane, despite everything. I had a feeling that something wasn’t right with Gary, but… I did do the same with Rocco but it still hurt.”

“Him kissing Lottie came as a surprise, then. Rowan’s hardly that much of a friend. She used Lucas and I could possibly have been happy with him, but I was obsessed with the idea of a day one power couple. It had to be me and Noah, or nothing else. It’s interesting how we completely switched strategies, though. Neither of us had much luck. I’m probably just letting everything get to my head.” Hope looked over at Marisol. The unexpected eye contact caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach, and Marisol’s throat went dry. She had never thought of Hope in that way before, and she blinked.

“Cat got your tongue?” Hope gently took Marisol’s hand in hers. “At least we have each other. You’re the only one I feel I can rely on.”

You’re the only thing she feels she can rely on. Those words mean a lot to you.

“What does that mean for you now? Have you given up on Noah?” The questions escaped Marisol’s lips before she could hold them back, and Hope sighed, letting go of her hand.

“I see the way he looks at Rowan, and the way she looks at him. There’s genuine feelings there, I guess. The way he is with me is different, and…” Hope trailed off, tears starting to spill over without her noticing. Marisol wanted to reach over and wipe them away, but squeezed her hands together in her lap, not sure if Hope would welcome that. She wasn’t much of a fan of physical contact herself, but for Hope, she felt like putting that aside. “It’s nice to have a friend in here, at least. Even if the rest of my life is a mess…”

Marisol quickly broke in, her words coming out in a rush. “You were right to focus on building friendships. You told me that right at the start, and thank you. Otherwise I would’ve let everything get to my head. I was stupid to sabotage friendships to try and get what I wanted, that kind of existence is a lonely one.”

She looked up and noticed Hope was crying, and leaned over, pulling her into a hug. She let Hope cry into her shoulder. The close proximity made her feel warm, in a way she couldn’t fully express. Only one person had made her feel like that before, and that was Olivia, her ex girlfriend.

As they separated, Marisol felt confident enough to lean in for a kiss. Her heartbeat echoed in her head and she felt her cheeks heat up. Hope looked at her with wide eyes and she moved away, her blush deepening.

“I’m sorry...I misread...Oof.” She started to apologise, and Hope cut her off mid sentence with a kiss. Marisol didn’t hesitate to kiss her back, and her cheeks heated up further. Her hands moved behind Hope’s neck and they only separated when they needed to catch a breath. The kiss appeared to be longer than it was realistically.

Hope laughed. “That hardly helps my inability to build friendships.”

Marisol grinned back and kissed her again, her eyes sparkling bright. Despite the initial embarrassment, she was relieved to follow her instincts. Just friends, indeed. Turns out you two were something else.

Hope left her to think once they separated and Marisol stared up at the night sky. Now you have more feelings to try and manage. But that will be for sorting later. Even though you barely talked.

She chose to sleep on the daybeds, wanting to stay far away from the new Islanders and the drama they had brought with them. Coupling up with Gary was something she had wanted to work, but she was always his second choice. Even he liked Rowan, even though she hadn’t gone near him. You always came second, but hopefully Hope would be different. The way Bobby had treated you also hurt, but you have learnt to ignore it. At least both of you were unhappy together in a friendship couple.

[dearophelia]

gonna set your flag on fire - chapter 9

chapter 09: the house don’t fall when the bones are good

operational security [read on AO3]

it’s been a hot minute with this one, whoops. eternal and forever thanks to @tarysande and @nightingaleseeking for their cheerleading through this.

“Olivia?” Garrus calls. The audible panic in his subvocals makes him wince.

“Bedroom!” comes the answer.

Garrus takes a moment to breathe. The Normandy won’t be here for hours yet and packing won’t take long. He can spend these thirty seconds to breathe now, before walking upstairs and seeing Olivia. He might not have them later.

Good air in, bad air out.

He allows himself to take a full minute in the silence of their home for a moment of calm and quiet. The hour since Olivia called him has been pure chaos: reschedule his week, call the Primarch, don’t forget the dinner party tonight for the new quarian economic delegation or tomorrow's breakfast with the forensic auditors from Irune Galactic, find suitably-important people to replace him at both events (and everything else this week), have someone pick up his gear, avoid looking panicked while doing any of this.

The silence is overwhelming and welcome. He closes his eyes and takes another breath before going upstairs.

He finds Olivia kneeling on the floor of their bedroom, packing.

Thirty years ago, chasing Saren across the galaxy, he’d watched in awe as his commanding officer stood firm and stoic in the face of utter mayhem. Nothing rattled her, nothing shook her steady posture. He’d never had a CO before who was that calm.

He knows her better now. The calm is how she gets through things. The calm is how she’s made through to the other side of trauma and crisis in one piece over and over again. Her voice doesn’t shake and neither does her resolve, but there’s a certain fragile steel in her spine that betrays the façade.

She may look calm to anyone else, but Garrus knows that Olivia is fucking terrified.

She’s thrown a sheet on the floor and laid her armor out on top of it. Shiny black and purple, with a scratch she never bothered to buff out on the left thigh. Her Black Widow and Avenger lay next to it.

“Vega’s letting you on the ground team?” It’s not the first thing he anticipated saying to her. He’d planned to say something idiotic, like are you okay. Of course she isn’t. He’s so far from okay that it doesn’t sound like a real word. Olivia can’t be closer.

She pauses, hand on her visor. “I’d like to see him try to stop me,” she says, slow and low and even.

Garrus would too, but Vega’s not that stupid. Olivia may not have seen any action outside the Arena in twenty years, but she has standing platinum matches three times a week; if he’s available or any of their friends are on the station and willing, she’ll pull them into it – otherwise, she goes solo. Last he checked, her stats were 7:1 extracting.

His are 6:1 and his assistant picked up his armor this afternoon.  “He’ll have to go through both of us.”

She finally looks up at him.

He swallows. The expression on her face is identical to the one she wore while staring down a reaper. “I’m going.” Olivia isn't the only unstoppable force in their family. There are a million reasons he shouldn’t even be on the ship, let alone groundside, but not one of them stands up against Cerberus having control of his daughter. This mission is too important to leave solely in the hands of other people.

Olivia sits back on her heels and sighs. “Wasn’t gonna stop you, Garrus,” she says softly. “Vega's meeting us at Soyuz-Janiri tomorrow with whatever resources he can scrounge up.”

Garrus steps around her, letting his hand briefly brush against her shoulder. He ducks into the closet to change out of his robes. “Good.” That was the last part of the plan, the only piece she didn't have locked into stone when she called. He exchanges his council robes for a pair of comfortable loose pants and a tunic. “When does the Normandy arrive?” he asks, stepping out of the closet. She told him the rest of the specifics this afternoon, but everything is a dull roar after Cerberus has Nora, Garrus: they activated the chip. Some part of him thinks he should be upset that she waited to tell him last. Another part of him knows that he'd call her last, too.

“4:45 in the morning.” She closes and locks her armor trunk and then stands, gathering the sheet. She balls it up and drops it in their laundry basket. “So we have,” she checks the clock, “ten hours to kill.”

Garrus takes a step forward and draws Olivia close into the hug he’s needed to give her – and needed to get from her – since she called. He wraps his arms tight around her, flattening his hands across her back as she tucks herself against him. He feels her breath shake and her arms circle around him just as tight.

After a few moments, he bows his head and kisses the top of her head. “We’ll get her back,” he whispers into her hair. They have to. They’ll rescue Nora and her team from that facility. And then they’ll turn the chip off again, this time for good. There is no alternative.

“I know,” she says quietly.

Tugging her closer, Garrus hums softly, a low, gentle, calming rumble he knows she likes. He ghosts his hands over her, slowly rubbing her back in soothing circles.

After a few moments, Olivia briefly tightens her hug and then takes half a step back. Garrus looks at his wife, keeping his arms still loosely wrapped around her. His heart twists in his chest. The lines on Olivia’s face, earned from decades of smiles and laughter, now look hollow and haunted.

He remembers the night in their quarters after Thessia, when the light hit just right and he thought for the briefest of moments that she was becoming a ghost before his eyes. She’d shattered in his arms, wild and feral and desperate, in a way he’s so grateful he hasn’t seen since. But as Olivia looks up at him tonight, twenty-five years of motherhood in her spine, Garrus knows that the night after Thessia fell will pale in comparison to how both of them will shatter if this doesn’t work.

So it's going to work.

Leaning down to bump his forehead against hers, he lets his subvocals shift a little deeper into a tone that will settle them both. “Let’s get some food.” Ten hours is a long time to have nothing to do. Neither of them will spend any of it sleeping.

As if on cue, her stomach growls. She laughs softly at herself and steps away.

“Have you eaten since breakfast?” Garrus asks as they walk downstairs to the kitchen. Food is the first thing Olivia always forgets during a crisis, followed very quickly by sleep. He can’t change that about her, but he can encourage her to get both.

“I had coffee?” she says, half a question, as if the whipped cream on her afternoon frozen coffee might qualify as food.

“Coffee hasn’t counted as food in the thirty years I’ve known you, Liv,” he gently chides. “It’s not suddenly going to start counting now.”

Olivia ignores him and opens the refrigerator, only to stare blankly at the levo side. "Takeout," she decides. Neither of them are in the right headspace to make anything. She sits down on the middle stool at the counter and opens the delivery app on her omnitool. He sits beside her and does the same.

“Oh,” she says after a moment. “You should order for two.”

Garrus raises a brow plate.

“Nico’s coming.”

The plate rises higher. Nico’s been working at the bakery for the past eight years. He officially took over from Hannah two years ago when she and Zaeed moved to Earth. Out of their two sons, he is not who Garrus would guess if asked who was coming on this mission.

She sends her order off. “We need a decryption specialist and he’s the best one I know.”

Garrus can’t fault that logic; Nico’s knee kept him from an active combat position and his entire deployment was spent in intelligence programs so classified Garrus didn’t even know they existed until he became councilor. He quickly orders for himself and his youngest son and then looks back at Olivia. “He’s staying on the ship though, right?” While their other two children took to combat like it was in their blood, Nico counted down the days until basic was over and he could get away from gunfire.

Olivia nods with a smile. “That’s the first thing he asked me, too. Yes.”

“Good.” Worrying about one kid is enough; he’d rather not have to worry about two. Or three. He wonders if Quentus has somehow found out and is currently badgering Solana to divert their current mission to Zorya.

***

James blinks as the airlock door opens to reveal not only Liara, Miranda, and Wrex, but also Deck and her entire team. “Thought you were on the other side of the galaxy,” he says, stepping aside to let everyone past him.

“I cashed in a favor,” Deck says. “Incidentally, the Blue Suns have some pretty wicked experimental quantum drives.”

He holds up his hand before she can continue. “I don’t want to know,” he says. “Find a bunk downstairs. Briefing’s in thirty. We’ll debrief on your thing once this is over.”

“Roger,” she says and gestures for the other three to follow her through the CIC to the elevator.

Wrex nods as he passes, revealing Jack and Tali standing in the space behind him. James looks over at his wife. Liara shrugs and gives him a small smile. He’s not sure whether the extra reinforcements are a good thing, but he’ll never turn down help. Tali hugs him, Jack gives a curt nod, and then he’s finally alone with Liara.

“Hi,” he says, drawing her into a hug. He wraps his strong arms around her shoulders and kisses her forehead. Nora’s family to him, but so are the other five trapped in that base. He’s had to mount rescues before, but this keeps getting worse the more he learns about it.

Liara hugs him back, just as tight. “Hello,” she says, giving him a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I thought you might need the extra backup; I did not realize you’d have Anubis back.”

“Neither did I,” he says, walking side-by-side with her through the CIC to the war room. “The more the merrier.” He nods at the crew they pass. Everyone looks so young. He supposes he’s gotten old.

James feels the Normandy shudder as the docking clamps release, followed by a brief wobbly moment before the inertial dampeners kick in. He gestures for Liara to go through the war room security checkpoint first. Three days. He takes a deep breath. He needs his guys to hang on for three more days.

“You’re the reason I have children,” Wrex is saying when James enters the room. “You think I’m not gonna come help you get your kid back?”

Shepard looks like she’s about to cry.

Jack crosses her arms and shifts her weight; the red holographic display casts angry shadows across her face. “Cerberus doesn’t get to fuck with kids as long as I’m alive.”

“You’re my friend,” Tali says. And then she shrugs. “Plus, I was already on the station.”

At that, Shepard laughs. “I’m glad you’re all here, thank you.” And then her eyes settle on Liara.

James doesn’t know what it is that Liara sees, but she lets out a soft, sad sigh before making her way down the stairs and over to Shepard.

Liara hugs Shepard tightly and doesn’t let go. Everyone talks around them, letting the two of them fade into the background and share their quiet little hug in the corner alone.

Out of the corner of his eye, James sees Garrus step into the room and stand beside him. He turns. Garrus is watching Shepard and Liara in much the same way he was.

“How’s she doing?” James asks. He wishes he could just ask as her friend. But Shepard's on the ground team and he needs to know.

“Not good,” Garrus says.

The understatement in Garrus’ voice is crystal clear and James looks up at him. “How are you doing?”

Garrus slowly turns and looks at him. “Not good,” he repeats, with the same clipped tone.

Exhaling, James nods. If their positions were reversed, not good would be an understatement for him, too.

***

“Why do I always have to be the one to do this?” Rachel asks with a sigh. It’s almost time for them to come collect the empty lunch trays. She’d actually enjoyed lunch today; there was an apple.

“Always?” Micah asks. “You mean this is not the first time you’ve done this?”

She shakes her head.

“It always has to be you because you look the least intimidating,” Jonah says.

“People underestimating me is largely how I've gotten this far,” Rachel says cheerily. The door opens and a single guard enters while another stands at the door. “I hate this part,” she murmurs to herself.

Rachel waits until he’s deactivating her forceshield and then bends over, her hair hiding her face from them. She dry heaves a few times and then makes herself throw up the remnants of lunch. She stands up straight, stumbles a little and pushes her hair back out of her face. “I don’t feel good,” she tells the guard.

“Sorry,” he says.

She gags again, making sure to aim in his direction. She wipes the back of her hand over her mouth when he looks up at her in disgust. “Told you.”

The other guard sighs. “We should take her in to medical. Turner says we need these guys alive for the time being.”

“Fine,” he says, gesturing for her to come out of the cell.

Keeping her hands up, showing that she has no intentions, Rachel follows the guards out.

“Hey!” Carlos shouts after them. “Send someone to clean this up! It’s gonna smell!”

Rachel counts guards and doorways and turns, making a mental map of the immediate area around the cells. They pass a stairway marked roof access, and there’s noise coming from the closet next to the stairs. It’s quiet, but definitely music. She listens as hard as she can without revealing herself.

Love beyond moons, love beyond stars!

They walk past the closet and take another turn to the left, but Rachel bites back a smile as the song fades. She’s found their gear.

***

Her caffeine load inevitably crashes and Olivia stumbles into bed beside Garrus. Though she’s exhausted, and even took a sleeping pill, sleep eludes her. Olivia rolls onto her side, then her stomach, then her back. She waits twenty minutes and then tries the whole cycle again. After three attempts, she gives up and stares at the ceiling while Garrus snores softly beside her. He's always been able to sleep anywhere, anytime, as long as he knows someone's keeping watch.

She could lie here in bed and get increasingly more annoyed about being awake, or she could do something useful. She brushes a kiss to Garrus’ forehead and then noiselessly slips out of bed.

Tugging a blue Alliance-branded sweatshirt over her head, Olivia stuffs her feet into her boots. Her black pajama pants get stuck in the cuffs and she pulls them out, wishing she’d had the foresight to bring sneakers. She really ought to change into BDUs since she’s going to be out of quarters, but she’s a civilian now and it’s the middle of the night.

She and Garrus are in a two-bunk officer’s quarters, sharing only with James and Liara. It’s small, but it isn’t sleeper pods and it isn’t the barracks-like atmosphere downstairs: with fifteen extra passengers, there aren't enough bunks for everyone and they've thrown every spare couch and chair and pillow into the lounges for impromptu sleeping space. Olivia tiptoes around the other bed, noting that James is the only one in it, and grabs her tablet before slipping out.

Yawning, Olivia steps onto the elevator and presses the control panel for Deck Four. If she’s not going to sleep, she’s going to need coffee. They still have two days; she’ll properly crash later. She runs her fingers through her hair and yawns again before the elevator doors open. The Normandy’s nighttime lights are dim and soft, and she’s in the galley with her hand on the coffeemaker before she notices the figure sitting at the table, hunched over a glowing tablet.

She starts a fresh pot and then walks over to him. “What are you still doing up?” she asks quietly, softly rubbing her son’s back.

Nico sighs and looks up at her. “Trying to break this. I think I’m close to the second decryption level.” He blinks. “Didn’t you and Dad go to bed?”

Olivia slides into a chair opposite him. “He did,” she sighs. “I gave up.”

He looks at her, then over at the coffeemaker burbling happily as it drips into a mug. “Going the Nora route of staying up until your body can’t take it anymore?” He lifts a browplate.

She shrugs and curls a little into her sweatshirt; she’s not proud to say Nora didn’t develop that habit in a vacuum. “Works every time." She reaches across the table and clasps his hand. “I’m sorry I pulled you away for this.” Nico chose a non-military life and it was for a reason. Desperately needing his decryption skills doesn’t change that she feels guilty pulling him away from his own life and back into one he left.

He smiles as she stands to get her coffee. “She’s my sister,” he says simply. “I have people who can handle the bakery for a few days and Lucien can feed my fish.”

Smiling, Olivia returns to her seat, steaming mug in hand. She takes a sip; Alliance coffee hasn't gotten much better in the years since she left, but it’s still tolerable. “Have you two found a place yet?”

“We have a few in mind,” Nico says. “But trying to find something that’s close to the bakery and his precinct and in our price range is harder than we thought.”

Olivia nods. “Apartment hunting sucks,” she commiserates. She does not miss it; designing their home from scratch was one of the best decisions she and Garrus ever made. “What are you going to do with the one above the bakery?”

His tablet beeps with a sad noise and he sighs. He types a few thing and then looks up at her. “I’m thinking about keeping it for when my brother needs to drink himself silly again.”

Olivia winces. “How’s he doing?” She’s had a few emails from Quentus since he left the Citadel. He’s excited about his new assignment, but rejection has always stung strong for her eldest.

Nico shrugs and pushes his tablet aside while the program runs. “He’s upset. But the new assignment’s helping. Solana has him leading a ground team and they have some crazy new tech he can’t tell me about.”

“It’s stealth,” Liara says around a wide yawn. She drops into the chair next to Olivia. “The Hierarchy’s working on no-discharge zero-emission stealth drives.” She picks up Olivia’s mug and takes a sip.

“Get your own,” Olivia says, sliding the mug out of Liara’s reach once she’s set it down. “What are you doing up?”

Liara yawns again. “Talking to vorcha.”

Olivia silently slides her mug back toward Liara. She gets up to pour herself another. “Anything useful?”

“Updated topographical maps, a weather report, and a headache.”

Nico’s tablet beeps, happy and successful this time. “Finally.” He looks up to find both his mother and Liara looking at him expectantly. “Updated base schematics, guard rotations, rolling door codes.”

“Nicely done,” Olivia says, leaning against the counter.

"The base is definitely central ops for Project Damocles, but I'm also finding something about a Project Gemini. No assets on base, just some bio metadata in cached email."

Olivia glances at Liara. "What are the chances that's not what I think it is?" Under normal circumstances, hearing about a Cerberus Project Gemini would cause her stomach to drop all the way through the ship and out into space. As it is, she's not sure her stomach has been inside her body since she got the call from Vega.

"Slim," her friend confirms.

Sighing, Olivia shakes her head at Nico's raised browplate. "Way above your clearance level," she tells him. "Forward all of it to Alliance Central Intelligence." Leave it to Cerberus to keep that particular project going. She never thought she'd label her clone a Tomorrow Problem, but a lot of things she never thought would happen have happened in the last 48 hours.

"And me," Liara says.

"And her."

The observation bay door opens, and loud, excitable indistinct conversation filters out before being silenced again as the door closes. Ashley walks into the mess and straight for the coffee. “We’ve officially given up on stealth,” she says, pouring herself some coffee and setting it to brew more. “Just rush the gates.”

“Blowing the door down has always worked well for us,” Olivia muses.

“That’s what I thought,” Ashley says, sitting down beside Liara. “They’re still working on a way past the AA guns that doesn’t involve a two-day hike through the jungle, though.” She looks at the clock and then back in the direction of the observation bay. “Were we ever that young?"

"No," Olivia says.

“Speak for yourselves, please,” Liara says with a grin.

Laughing, Ashley lightly shoves Liara’s shoulder.

“Uh, Captain?” Joker’s voice crackles over the comm.

Ashley sighs with a distinct tone of I don’t want to hear it. "Yeah?"

“We’ve got a ship on intercept course. Unknown configuration.”

“Keep us quiet,” she says. “I’m on my way.” She gestures for Olivia to follow her.

Olivia stands and takes one last sip of coffee. "Keep working on the AA guns," she tells Nico before following Ashley.

“What’s the likelihood this is just a coincidence?” Ashley asks once they’re both in the elevator and rising.

There’s math she could do to figure out the exact probability, but Olivia knows a rhetorical question when she hears it. “First time for everything,” she says.

“They’re hailing us,” Joker says when they walk into the cockpit. “Unknown frequency.” He turns in his seat and looks at Ashley. “What do you want me to do?”

"They shouldn't even be able to see us," Ashley says.

"And yet." Joker gestures to the communication panel and its blinking light.

Ashley waits a moment, shares a long look with Olivia, and then shrugs. “Here’s hoping no one’s dumb enough to fire on us,” she says. “And here’s hoping today isn’t the day that logic runs out. Answer it.”

The viewscreen flickers on. Olivia smiles.

“Heard you were on a rescue mission,” Solana says, Quentus standing behind her. “Anything we can do to help?”

[lady-divine-writes]

A Change in the Weather AU (inspired by Cacophonylights's A Change in the Weather) - Chapter 32

Read on AO3.

Warning for mention of past sexual assault.

It’s around ten in the morning when Sebastian and Kurt wake in their tent out on the porch, rattled to consciousness by Sebastian’s ringer slicing through the lull of the still pouring rain. Kurt hears Sebastian groan, hears him curse at it, mumbling something about not answering it out of spite and wouldn’t that show it who’s boss? Kurt chuckles at his boyfriend’s sleep-deprived ridiculousness, but Sebastian has no one to blame for this oversight but himself. Kurt had left his phone in the bedroom before they’d retired to the porch for this very reason.

He didn’t want to be disturbed.

They’re both dog tired. More than that. Whatever animal dogs use as a metaphor when they get tired, that’s what Kurt and Sebastian are.

It’s comfy in their tent out on the porch. Too comfy to deal with things like phone calls when Kurt and Sebastian are lying next to one another, asleep in each other’s arms. Kurt feels Sebastian stir, mumbling again about how he’s willing to punch his phone to fucking pieces if it doesn’t knock it off, then settle back into their cozy cocoon.

“You could just shut it off, you know,” Kurt reminds him, giggling when he feels Sebastian’s breathing hitch.

“Yeah, all right,” he says without owning up to his mistake. He reaches underneath his pillow to get it, but before his fingers touch it, it obligingly stops ringing. “There you go then. I guess that’s that.”

“Who was it?” Kurt asks, completely unaware of anything outside Sebastian’s tirade with his eyes closed.

“Don’t know, don’t care. They’re gone. That’s all that matters.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kurt says, surrendering to the hug that envelopes him from behind. Sebastian’s soft snores fill the tent again, and Kurt takes that as his cue to go back to sleep, the patter of the rain on the outside skin of the tent a powerful sedative.

But right as Kurt gets ready to re-visit his fantasy from last night in the darkness behind his eyelids, Sebastian’s phone rings again, dragging them both further into consciousness.

“Argh! What do you want?” Sebastian whines. Kurt rolls to his opposite side in their sleeping bag as Sebastian proceeds to verbally berate his phone. Kurt is reluctant to do anything that qualifies as moving, but he so wants a front seat to this temper tantrum. If he’s going to have his sleep repeatedly interrupted, he wants to be entertained.

And besides, if Sebastian had turned off his phone, they wouldn’t be having this issue.

Again, the phone stops ringing, but it starts immediately up, and Sebastian fishes it out without stalling this time to put an end to its reign of terror. “Ugh. Too bright,” he murmurs, squinting at the screen. But something he sees stops him from shutting his phone down. “Wait a minute …”

“What?”

“It’s Liv.” Sebastian stares harder, making sure. “Pfft. Her timing is impeccable.”

“Shouldn’t she be here?” Kurt asks. “She didn’t mention having any plans for the morning.”

“I don’t happen to have her social calendar memorized, but mumsy and dadums probably took her and Brian out to brunch. If Julian went with them, you know what that means …” Sebastian bites his lower lip suggestively, growls for good measure.

“Pizza for breakfast?” Kurt teases.

“No …” Sebastian says. “You … on the living room couch. This way you won’t be able to even look at a couch cushion without getting a hard on.”

“Kinky,” Kurt says, his heart fluttering at hummingbird speeds from the smile Sebastian flashes him, broadcasting his intentions on devouring him whole. Still, Kurt can’t help thinking Sebastian looks more than a little nervous. That thought doesn’t dim as Sebastian answers his phone.

“Hello, Olivia!” Kurt yells before Sebastian gets the chance.

“Hello, sister dear,” Sebastian says, voice dripping venom. But Olivia doesn’t rise to the challenge.

“Hey,” she says in a guarded tone. “How’s it going? Did you guys have fun last night?”

“We did,” Kurt answers for his yawning boyfriend. He rests his head against Sebastian’s chest, their tent so quiet despite the rain, he’s able to hear Olivia even though his ear is nowhere near the phone. “Very much.”

“That’s good. I’m glad,” she says. She sounds happy for them, but also distracted. “Have you guys seen Julian by any chance?”

“No. We’re not even awake yet,” Sebastian replies. “We are currently enjoying the sleep in and cuddle phase of being on vacation!”

“So no phone calls or anything?” Olivia reiterates without any of her usual teasing, her syrupy swooning over how sweet the two of them are together. “No texts?”

The scowl drifts from Sebastian’s face at the concern in his sister’s voice, the urgency behind her questions. “No, Liv. Nothing. Why?”

“We can’t find him.”

“Is that all?” Sebastian relaxes, but not enough to erase the worry lines from around his eyes. “He’s just bummed out over Cooper. He’ll turn up. He always does. It’s only … fuck …” Sebastian exclaims when he glances at his phone screen “… ten in the morning!”

“Seb,” Liv says firmly, trying to make her younger brother hear her, “he left early. He didn’t tell us where he was headed, but he was in such a hurry, I thought Cooper had arrived. I thought … I thought things were finally going to work out for him. But he hasn’t checked in, and we’ve been calling him for hours.”

“Julian’s not really a check in sort of person,” Sebastian points out. “Never has been. But maybe Cooper did come through and they’re at a hotel. You know Julian …”

“His phone has stopped going to voicemail,” she interrupts, nearing her wit’s end. There’s a knot between Olivia’s words, an unlevel platform struggling to keep her voice steady enough for her to tell them the rest. But she doesn’t have to. Kurt feels Sebastian’s chest tighten beneath his cheek and he just knows. It’s contagious, Kurt’s chest tightening shortly after. “He’s gone, Sebastian. He’s just … gone.”

“Where are you now?” Sebastian asks.

“We’re out looking for him. Brian and I are still local but Mom and Dad are heading farther north.”

“Don’t worry.” Sebastian throws off the covers, mouthing the words I’m sorry to Kurt when a sudden block of cold air hits them both like an anvil and Kurt’s teeth chatter. “Kurt and I are going to head out in a few minutes and help. We’ll find him, Liv.”

“Do you have any idea where he might be?”

“I have a hunch.” A pained expression colors his tired face, but it disappears quickly. “Let us go. I’ll text you in about thirty, let you know our game plan.”

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she says, a bit more relaxed than when she first called.

“Awww, are you worried about me, sis?” Sebastian coos.

“Well … I’m worried about Kurt mainly. But sure - you, too.”

Sebastian retaliates with a rude noise. Olivia laughs conservatively, and things feel closer to rectified. “Thanks a lump.”

“Bearing that in mind, maybe Brian and I should swing by and pick him up …”

“Goodbye, Liv,” Sebastian sings, disconnecting the call. He stares at the screen, or at his reflection in it - Kurt can’t tell. But he knows Sebastian is thinking.

“What’s up?” Kurt asks when Sebastian starts swiping through his call log.

“I’m checking to see if Julian did try to contact us this morning, but we were too dead asleep to wake up.”

“Unlikely seeing as Olivia’s calls woke us up.”

“Yeah, well, it took her five tries,” Sebastian says, showing Kurt his screen.

“Wow.”

“I know. My mom and dad tried nine and we missed them, too.” Kurt watches Sebastian’s eyes scan the numbers on his screen. When he reaches the end, he scrolls back to the beginning and checks again. “Crap! There’s nothing.”

Sebastian and Kurt recline together in the silence, Kurt staring at Sebastian, unsure what they’re supposed to do next; Sebastian looking Kurt over appraisingly, a hundred and one thoughts at work behind his eyes.

“What?” Kurt asks, unable to take Sebastian’s silence any longer, his pensive stare that prickles Kurt’s skin and not in a good way, not when he feels like they should be doing something! “Do I have something on my face?”

Kurt can tell by the way the right corner of Sebastian’s mouth quirks that he has a comeback for that one, but he doesn’t let it out. “I may have a way to find him, but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone!”

“You don’t trust me!?” Kurt gasps since that’s the absolute last thing he’d expected Sebastian to say at this stage of their relationship, fledgling or not.

“Lawful good, babe. Remember?” Sebastian replies like that explains everything. “Plus I know you. If you think we’re in over our heads, you’ll call in reinforcements whether I want you to or not. And I need you to trust me on this one, okay?”

“Hypocrite much?” Kurt mutters.

“I need you to trust me,” Sebastian repeats, sounding as urgent as Olivia did doing her darndest to get through her brother’s thick skull, “and do what I’m asking without question, just this once.”

“Sebastian! I’m not going to tell on you! Your brother’s in trouble! I’m going to do anything in my power to help you out!”

Sebastian blinks at Kurt, doesn’t seem relieved by his response. His brows draw together, an unamused look brewing in his eyes. “Mmm … hmmph …” he says, going back to his phone, not at all thrilled by Kurt’s enthusiasm. Kurt rolls his eyes because he can’t with his boyfriend, acting jealous at a time like this!

Sebastian holds his phone like a poker hand, close to his chest, but bit by bit, he loosens his posture as he navigates a website Kurt has never seen before. He doesn’t want to peek, doesn’t want to invade his or his brother’s privacy, but the bizarrely high-tech looking page has Kurt curious beyond belief.

“Okay, I have to ask,” he says, breaking down. “What is that? What are you doing?”

Sebastian gives him a look, still thoroughly unamused, but his apparent need to talk through this with someone wins out in the end. “Julian has two phones. Has for a while now. He has the one our folks set up for him with the number he’s had forever, and one he bought for himself. I’m the only one in our family who knows about it. Only two people have that number including me. Anyway, both of his phones have a GPS tracking function, but he tends to turn it off on his main phone.”

“But not on the second one?”

“It’s a safety net. In case he gets himself into any real shit, at least I can find him.” Kurt watches Sebastian flip through screens, eyes following his finger as he scrolls. What starts as a blank, inscrutable expression swiftly becomes a frown. “Of course, I don’t actually trust him as far as I can throw him, so I downloaded an app called Spyine.” Sebastian smirks. “It’s one of those apps that jealous husbands use to keep tabs on their wives.”

“Well …” Kurt’s face pinches with disgust “… isn’t that morally ambiguous.”

Sebastian flips to a new screen with a map displayed and sighs. “This isn’t good.”

Kurt moves up Sebastian’s chest to see better, no longer concerned with invading privacy considering the site Sebastian is using. “What isn’t?”

“According to this, his phone is either not on, or …” Sebastian swipes back, again double checking.

Kurt gnaws on his inner cheek, wracked by the suspense. He’s beginning to feel like he’s been dropped in the middle of a Tom Clancy novel. “Or …?”

“Or he’s nowhere nearby.” Sebastian makes it sound so simple, but from the way his eyes cloud over, Kurt knows it’s not.

“Like … nowhere near the beach house?”

Sebastian shakes his head but he doesn’t explain. Kurt’s stomach flips. He feels out of his depth and completely useless. He wants to help Julian, but he has no idea where to start. He knows nothing about the technology Sebastian is using. He’s barely aware of the fact that his own phone has a GPS tracking system. As it is, he has no idea whether it’s switched on or not. He thought they’d be able to find Julian regardless using cell phone towers and pinging signals, but that’s because the only information he has on the subject comes from watching Law and Order. “What’s the reach on that thing?”

“I don’t know exactly. Far? I’ve only had to use it once, but that time, he was only a couple of miles away.” Sebastian’s head snaps up, a hint of Eureka! in his eyes. He slaps a palm to his forehead. Kurt jumps at the smack! the contact makes. It sounds like it hurt. “Shit! I have a feeling … fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I know where he’s heading!”

“Where!?”

Sebastian blows out a breath. It’s the most annoyed, frustrated, worried, anxious sound Kurt has ever heard come out of another human being, and Kurt knows, he just knows that the next words out of Sebastian’s mouth are going to open a Pandora’s box. “Westerville.” Sebastian puts both hands over his face, laughs maniacally into his palms. “Fancy a drive? I swear we’ll come back.”

“Yes.” Kurt sits up, moving aside so Sebastian can get ready. “Of course. Whatever we have to do.”

“Great,” Sebastian says, although he sounds more put out than relieved. Kurt can’t help wondering if this is a pattern for them - one of their many complicated tangos. Julian had mentioned that Sebastian has an inner mom complex. Does that extend to more than damages to home and property? Is this a habit - Julian messes up and Sebastian goes after him? What else would necessitate Sebastian downloading some super spy app onto his phone?

“We should text your parents, right?” Kurt follows Sebastian to the tent door, carrying the sinking suspicion with him that they’re not. “Let them know what’s going on?” Sebastian stops Kurt before he unzips the rain flap. He drapes a blanket over Kurt’s head and shoulders, then puts an arm around him to keep him from getting too too wet.

“Not quite yet,” Sebastian says, hurrying them the short distance across the porch to the door.

“It’s going to be a twelve hour drive! What are they going to think when we don’t come back? You have to tell them something!”

“I will tell them something!” Sebastian throws the door open and ushers Kurt inside. “I just … I need to figure out what that something is first.”

***

Sebastian doesn’t pack any of his belongings, but Kurt does. He doesn’t take everything he brought with him when they leave. After all, they plan on coming back. But he does grab a few things - a couple of shirts and some shorts he’s sick of wearing. He’d already mentioned to Sebastian wanting to stop by his house to say what’s up to his dad and tell him the good news about the check. Kurt didn’t feel right telling his father over the phone, but he wants to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that his dad won’t waste time worrying. Kurt isn’t exactly sure how much he intends on telling his dad, though he should probably consider telling him the whole truth eventually.

If Charlotte knows, Greg will, too, sooner or later. It’ll get back to his dad one way or the other.

Kurt wants his dad to hear it from him.

While they’re in Ohio, Kurt plans on depositing the check into his account (he’s been trying to do it via mobile but, again, his frickin’ phone …) and bam! One less thing to worry about.

Sebastian leaves his folks and Olivia a note letting them know that he and Kurt will be out for the afternoon and well into the evening, running down some of Julian’s hangouts. It’s not exactly a lie. In fact, it’s enough of a not lie that it’s nearly the truth. Never once does Sebastian mention in his note that any of those spots are in North Carolina so technically not a lie.

Kurt is frightened at how quickly that conclusion is to come to, and how okay he is with it.

Kurt expects Sebastian to text his parents and come clean after their first rest stop. When that doesn’t happen, he hinges his hopes on the second, which they take two hours later. But Sebastian doesn’t text them then, either. He doesn’t look at his phone at all once they hit the highway. He just drives, with so much determination, it concerns Kurt. What will happen if they show up at wherever it is they’re going and Julian isn’t there? What do they do then?

Kurt considers texting Liv on the sly to tell her that they’re okay and that they have a lead. But if he does, that would mean Sebastian is right.

Kurt is a lawful good. And that’s not necessarily a good thing.

But worst of all, it would mean Sebastian can’t trust him.

So he turns his phone off and puts it in his pocket to avoid temptation.

Half way to Ohio, they stop for a bite, and to sit down somewhere that isn’t a car. But they eat so fast, so anxious to get back on the road, Kurt barely tastes his sandwich. When they settle back into Sebastian’s Mustang with a canvas bag full of road snacks, the engine is barely cool to the touch. Sebastian merges onto the highway, hops lanes until they hit the far left, and that’s where they stay, cruising at a hair above eighty for the remainder of the way.

Kurt watches Sebastian drive for awhile, but Sebastian’s eyes don’t leave the road. He either doesn’t notice, or he’s so used to Kurt watching him, it doesn’t faze him. Kurt feels like he should say something, reassure Sebastian that they’ll find his brother, but Sebastian knows that better than Kurt does. Kurt doesn’t even know where in Westerville they’re headed. The Smythe estate? But then why didn’t Sebastian just say they’re going home? Dalton? Also a possibility, but then why not mention it?

Kurt hates waiting, but he’ll have to and see.

Kurt is tired of questions that have no answers, but he doesn’t want to pressure Sebastian for any. And since staring him down while they’re trapped inside a vehicle together might be seen as pressuring, he shifts his attention out the window to the cars driving beside them, at the trees and the grass, the gorgeous ocean they’re leaving behind.

Saying goodbye to that ocean prematurely will be one of Kurt’s biggest regrets about this adventure.

But it won’t be his only one.

***

Kurt wakes to a shrill metallic beeping spitballing through his brain. It unnerves the hell out of him since he didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep. They’d been traveling in silence, the radio on low, tuned in to a classical music station Sebastian chose. Kurt didn’t rest his head, didn’t close his eyes.

He’d blinked, and hours had flown by.

It’s night when Kurt opens them again.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Sebastian says when he hears Kurt stir. “I raised the volume on my phone in case I got a signal.”

“And?” Kurt inquires around a yawn.

“I think I’ve found him.”

“What time is it?” Kurt asks, starting conversation to ease the tension. He could check the time for himself. It’s right there on the dash.

If Sebastian isn’t too worried about Julian’s well-being, if things aren’t as serious as Kurt is beginning to fear they are, Sebastian will tease him about that.

But he doesn’t.

“Around nine,” Sebastian says. “We made really good time.”

Kurt sighs, that tight feeling in his chest becoming tighter with every mile marker they pass. “Sounds like it.”

A web of apprehension weaves its way around them both. Too much has been left in the air and it’s piling up. Kurt doesn’t remember falling asleep, but he does remember the phone calls Sebastian let go to voicemail, the text messages he didn’t pull over to read. They kept coming and coming, and Sebastian ignored them until they stopped.

Does Sebastian have the GPS tracking on his phone turned on? Are they in danger of the entire Smythe clan following them? Kurt doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to add to Sebastian’s stress, even if his own brain is about to melt from it.

Sebastian pulls into the small side lot of a place called The Draft Room. It’s not as big as the club in Columbus, but it’s a step up from Scandals. He parks in the first empty spot, turns off the car, and sits, staring at the brick wall in front of them. Kurt scans the lot in search of Julian’s Jag, but he doesn’t see it.

That doesn’t mean Julian isn’t there.

“Are you all right?” Kurt asks, reaching out a hand to caress Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Yes?” Sebastian says, but it’s another question, not an answer. “I … kind of don’t want to do this.”

“Do you want me to go? I can look around, see if he’s there, text you if he is.”

“No,” Sebastian says, overlooking the opportunity Kurt hands him to poke fun at his menace of a cell phone. That’s two for two. “No, it’d be best if we both went. Just … stay with me? Please?” Sebastian sounds so small when he asks. So timid.

So not like Sebastian.

Kurt takes his hand. He threads their fingers together, smiling as confidently as he can with his heart trying to tear out of his chest. “Always.”

***

The place is nowhere near crowded, so even if he wasn’t wearing the tightest jeans imaginable or a leather jacket that costs about as much as Kurt’s SUV, Julian is easy to spot from the front door, sitting at a stool dead center of the bar with no one else around, as if he wants to be easy to see.

Easy to find.

Sebastian walks through the front door as if he’s pushing himself from behind to make himself go. He slides up to Julian, bumps him with his hip, and slaps a hand on his shoulder. Julian jerks in his stool and looks up at him, smile vibrant, but when his eyes lock on to Sebastian’s, when he sees his brother there next to him, his smile falls.

“Hey, baby brother,” he says, knocking on the bar and signaling the bartender. The man steps up, filling Julian’s empty shot glass with whiskey.

“Hey, Jules,” Sebastian says. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Ain’t it just?”

“You know, they have bars in North Carolina ...” Sebastian stares at Julian’s glass. Kurt doesn’t know whether he’s contemplating cutting Julian off, or knocking it back himself.

“True. But I didn’t come to Westerville to drink. I just sort of … ended up here.” Julian grabs the glass as if he knows it’s in danger, drinking down the whiskey in one gulp.

“I can see that,” Sebastian says with more sympathy than Kurt expected considering their impromptu, all-day drive. “How deep in are you?”

“Uh … I don’t know.” Julian picks up his empty shot glass and gazes into it, as if it holds the answer. “Two beers and two shots?” He wiggles the glass Sebastian’s way. “Wanna catch up?”

“No thanks. How long have you been here?”

“A few hours. Figures you’d be the one to find me.”

Sebastian shrugs. “I had help.”

Sebastian is referring to his phone, which he holds up as a visual. But Julian spots Kurt standing behind him, watching over his shoulder, and what remains of Julian’s grin - the miniscule shadow of it - dissolves.

“I didn’t give him an ultimatum,” Julian says, speaking straight to Kurt now, another human who understands the woes of falling in love with an Anderson brother. “I said that maybe inviting him to the beach house was going too far too fast. That maybe he felt like I was putting him on the spot. I told him that I would meet him half way. When I didn’t hear from him, I told him I was willing to meet him all the way …” Another shot appears, then disappears down Julian’s throat. “But he’s not coming. I know he’s not coming. I was an idiot to think he was, to think that everything was finally going to work out for us.”

“Maybe he’s just …” Kurt tries, but Julian shakes his head.

“I’ve looked for him everywhere. Called every number I ever had for him. Some of them have been disconnected for years, but I called them anyway. I even called the house.” Julian’s cheeks flush red, as if of all the things he’s done, this is the one he didn’t want to admit to. “Emily says he just … he just left. He didn’t pack a bag, didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Just pfft. Gone. I don’t know who got to him, but they got to him good.”

“I'm ... I’m so sorry,” Kurt says, his heart sinking when the light that always lingers in Julian's eyes, the one that blazes hot behind the ice blue of his irises, starts to burn low, threatening to go out.

“So many secrets …” Julian looks down at his phone clutched in his hand as if at any moment it might spring to life with a call or a text. “We’re so good at keeping secrets, aren’t we, Sebby?”

He pauses, and Kurt feels Sebastian go rigid beside him.

“Julian …”

Kurt has heard Sebastian say his brother’s name dozens of times, and in as many different ways.

He’s said it jokingly.

He’s said it seriously.

He’s spat it like a curse.

He’s said it with affection.

But this was a plea.

He was begging Julian to stop.

“We keep secrets from mom and dad," Julian continues to himself as if they aren't there, which means Sebastian’s pleas can’t reach him. "Secrets from Liv. Hell, the two of you kept the biggest secret of all. You even had me duped, though, apparently that isn't as hard as I thought.”

Julian laughs, dry and hollow, until it becomes a cough.

“Julian …” Sebastian repeats his plea softer, subconsciously searching for and taking Kurt's hand. He squeezes it tight, and Kurt can't help noticing how it shakes.

Julian shoots his brother a smirk, lifting a newly-filled shot glass in his fist in an unspoken toast and downing it in a single throw. He slams it down on the bar, the glass bottom hitting the wood with a poignant thunk.

“Now why haven’t you told him yet, Sebby?” he asks, mockingly upbeat the way depressed drunks sound when the liquor finally hits. This Julian is such a departure from the one Kurt normally sees – the suave and sophisticated sexy man whose every word speaks to Kurt’s artistic soul – that he might as well be a complete stranger. Someone who looks so much like Julian that from a distance on a cloudy day he could be mistaken for him, but turns out to not be him.

This transformation frightens Kurt, but Sebastian’s reaction to it concerns him more.

Sebastian squeezes Kurt’s hand a little too hard, arriving at a conclusion that Kurt doesn’t even realize exists.

“Tell me … tell me what?” Kurt asks Julian, then Sebastian. He would much rather hear it from Sebastian, but Julian gets to him first.

“Why it is that Sebastian went away,” Julian replies, talking to the wood grain in the bar, the bottom of his glass, everything but them. “You know it wasn’t your fault, Sebby. At least, if you tell him, he’ll know exactly how much of a bastard I really am, and you’ll never have to worry about losing him again. Not to me, anyway.”

That last part was meant as a joke, but to Kurt it feels more like a jab. Not at Kurt, and not at Sebastian. At himself. He’s skewering himself on his own metaphoric sword, one he’s been carrying around with him ever since whatever happened happened.

Whatever he’s about to say, he doesn’t expect Kurt to forgive him, or to speak to him ever again.

Kurt’s eyes meet Sebastian’s, but Sebastian isn’t looking at him. He’s staring at an insignificant speck on the bar, frozen to the spot.

Numb.

“Come on, Sebby …” Tears burn in Julian’s eyes that Kurt can hear in his voice. “You love him. He loves you. He should know, dont’cha think?”

Sebastian still can’t seem to answer. He’s paralyzed, mouth agape, unable to breathe a single word. Kurt has never seen Sebastian like this. Whatever Sebastian hasn’t told Kurt yet, whatever this pain is that the two of them hold on to, that the two of them share, Julian is getting ready to spill it. Kurt won't deny that he wants to know - he wants to help. But this is not how Kurt wants to find out.

He doesn’t want Julian outting his brother against his will.

“Julian, no,” Kurt says, even though he’s sure what he’s saying no to is the one thing he’s wanted to know all summer. “You can’t do this. You can’t hurt your brother like this. It’s not right.”

“No, Kurt! It’s my story, too!” Julian insists, unhinged. “And I … I need you to hear it, to try and forgive me because what I did made this …” He flicks a finger between Kurt and Sebastian “… so much harder for you! And you don’t deserve that!”

Julian had mentioned early on that Sebastian would never want to look weak or vulnerable. Kurt suspects they have that in common. Kurt wonders when the last time Sebastian saw his brother like this was. A while, he assumes, if the way Sebastian’s eyes widen are any indication.

“It’s … it’s fine.” Kurt’s voice is thick, on the verge of panic. He feels like he’s standing in the path of a runaway train with nowhere to run, no way to escape. “Really. Forget about it. I … I forgive you. It’s …”

Julian shakes his head. “Don’t, Kurt. You don’t understand. You can’t even conceive of how bad I hurt him …”

“Julian …” Kurt steps protectively in front of Sebastian, puts his free hand on Julian’s knee and squeezes, trying to break through his haze of whiskey and self-pity “… please, stop. I don’t need to know.”

“Yes,” Sebastian agrees in a voice so quiet, it can’t qualify as an actual sound. Kurt turns to look at his boyfriend, expecting him to be looking away, off in the distance like Julian, maybe down at his shoes. But he’s looking right at Kurt. “Yes, you do.”

Kurt shakes his head. This time, it's Kurt's turn to plead.

"Sebastian ..."

“That’s the spirit, baby brother,” Julian cuts in with a fake laugh and a halfhearted version of his trademark salute, which has been conspicuously missing the past week while he’s been brooding over Cooper. He takes his next shot off the bar and passes it to Sebastian. Kurt watches Sebastian sadly put the glass to his lips, snap his head back, and down the drink, a single tear racing down his cheek and getting lost in his hair. “Let’s tell our story together.”

Julian knocks on the bar as the bartender walks by and the man fills their glasses. He sets one out for Kurt without asking and fills that one, too. Kurt is so stunned he doesn’t have the wherewithal to wave the man away. On his end, the bartender doesn’t seem to mind that Kurt and Sebastian don’t look anywhere close to 21. He looks about as done with life as they all feel right now, or like the bouncer at Scandals when Kurt and Blaine first went, which would be a funny comparison any other time but now. Kurt wishes he could bring it up, break the tension, get a smile out of Sebastian, steer this conversation in a different direction.

But that would be beneath them.

“There was this … guy,” Julian begins, landing on that word as if the crux of their problems is always some guy. “Seb fell so hard for him, so fast. He called my brother all sorts of cutesy nicknames. They were so adorable together. Frankly, it made me kind of sick. But, in the spirit of brotherly love, I wanted to help Sebby land this boy, because back then, he had no game to speak of.” Julian grins with inappropriate wickedness. “And I mean no game. So I got them some fake IDs and I took them out drinking.” Another shot appears. Julian downs it. Just as quickly, it’s refilled. Kurt has lost count at this point. “It might have been love.” Julian’s brows draw together. “Was it?” He squints up at Sebastian, waiting for an answer. Sebastian downs another shot but says nothing. Julian shrugs. “I don’t know. It could have been. I mean, not the kind of love you guys have, but love. But right before we went out that evening, I got into a fight with Cooper, and I turned into an asshole.” He sputters. “Well, more of an asshole than usual, right, guys?” He pauses, snickers to himself, gets a little carried away, but he doesn’t sound like he’s enjoying his joke. He sounds like he’s trying to keep himself from crying. And he’s not doing that good a job. “I got them both drunk …” he explains, waving in the direction of the bar “… and then I went about seducing this poor boy of Seb’s.” He shakes his head, the look on his face one of revulsion. “Man, I pulled out all the stops for that kid. I really went overboard. And he fell for it – hook, line, and sinker. I may have made him fall in love with me.” He growls angrily, another shot flying down his throat. “Sebby, he got mad, sulked in a corner …” Another wave of his hand, this time in the direction of the jukebox sitting in a half circle of golden light “… had one too many to drink. He got real sick, went to the bathroom, and while he was in there, there was … there was a man ...” Julian hiccups.

Warning bells sound off in Kurt’s head, their clatter coursing through his body, carrying adrenaline with them, and now his hands begin to shake. “Don’t. Stop. I don’t think I should hear …”

“No,” Sebastian whispers, his voice raw, as if he’s been drinking nails instead of alcohol. “Let him … let him finish.”

Julian turns on his stool, eyes blurry as he stares off behind them. “When I got to them …” He squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking from the sides “… he had Sebastian pinned between the sinks, had his pants unzipped and his hand down them.” Julian’s voice shudders, gaze returning to his glass, glued as if he can see the memory in the reflection, playing before his eyes. It probably is, Kurt thinks. It probably plays back for him over and over when he shuts his eyes, when he drinks too much, every day that Sebastian was overseas … “He was trying to kiss him, k-kept saying …” Julian clears his throat so violently Kurt feels his own throat burn “… kept saying that he wanted to t-taste himself on Seb’s lips.”

And that’s the moment.

The moment when those alarms in Kurt’s head, and all that coursing adrenaline, build in his chest, and explode. With those words, Kurt’s entire body folds in on itself and freezes solid from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. It creeps underneath his hair, makes his follicles itch as if bugs have been nesting there and are clawing to get out. A picture of Sebastian pinned against a bathroom wall like Kurt was with Max in that bar in Columbus fills Kurt’s brain. The man pinning Sebastian there Kurt fills in with the vilest human being his mind can conjure up. Now that that image is there, Kurt knows it’ll never leave him.

Like Sebastian and Julian, he’ll never be free of it.

But back in Columbus, when Max tried to assault Kurt, Sebastian was there. Sebastian saved him. Even though that memory enrages Kurt, it doesn’t paralyze him with fear.

A second later, he feels the phantom of Dave Karofsky’s mouth on his, and his knees nearly buckle beneath him.

“So …” Kurt says, “so, that man … he …”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says with his last bit of voice, the hand that’s been latched on to Kurt’s since Julian’s story began slipping away. “Big brother charged to the rescue about a minute too late.”

“Oh … oh God. Sebastian …” Kurt turns to his boyfriend, to hold him, but by the time Kurt realizes he’s leaving, he’s completely out of reach, weeding his way through the tables to get outside, find fresher air. Kurt turns back to Julian, but his gaze stops on a narrow door with a small rectangular sign nailed over the frame. It’s the door to the bathroom, directly in Julian’s sight line, which Kurt had overlooked since he thought Julian’s gaze was aimed nowhere. Julian glares at it like he’s fit to burn it down, and things suddenly fall into grooves and click.

This is the bar.

This is where Julian took them.

This is where it all happened.

That’s why Sebastian was so certain Julian would be here.

That’s why he didn’t want to come in.

“That’s what happened between the two of you?” Kurt stares at Sebastian’s back, fighting between running after him and giving him a minute to pull himself together. “That’s why Sebastian went to Paris? That’s why he stayed away for so long?”

“Yup.” Julian downs his next shot. Kurt’s and Sebastian’s, too, with such effortless fluidity, those glasses might as well have been full of water. “That’s the story of how big bad Julian Smythe let his brother down, lost his trust … and broke his heart.”

***

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks when he finds Sebastian standing by the curb, staring at his shoes while he teeters on the edge. Kurt had been practicing those three words while walking through the bar towards the door. He didn’t want his voice to crack, needed to stamp out the tears pressing behind his eyes. He didn’t want Sebastian comforting him, which he would if he thought Kurt was upset. Kurt needs to remove his own feelings from this equation.

He needs to remain neutral and help his boyfriend.

He’d considered stopping into the restroom and splashing water on his face, but no. He wants to stay miles away from there. He can’t see it. He can’t know what it looks like. Speculating is fine. Intrusive thoughts he can handle when they’re figments of his own imagination. But reality …

Reality will split Kurt apart.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Sebastian says, looking over and around Kurt instead of landing on his face. His eyes are red, but it doesn’t look like he’s been crying. Kurt imagines he’s been out here pressing the tips of his fingers into his eyelids, trying to erase the last ten minutes from his brain. And Kurt doesn’t blame him. “I’m good. I found Julian’s car, so I called for a tow.” His gaze flicks down the street, avoiding Kurt’s eyes with the pretense of checking for the truck. “He’s in no condition to drive home so I thought, you know, we should take him. If you don’t mind. I mean, he’s not the best driver when he’s sober.” Sebastian chuckles uncomfortably. Kurt watches his face stagger between holding it together and falling apart. “Besides, I … I don’t think he should be alone. He needs someone to take care of him.”

“I don’t mind.” Kurt is dying to touch Sebastian, to hold him. At the very least, to take his hand. But he’ll wait for Sebastian to come to him. Kurt doesn’t know where Sebastian’s mind is right now. Is it here, standing on the street, talking to him? Or is it in that bathroom long ago - scared, confused, praying for his brother to come find him and rescue him? “I think that’s a good idea.”

“Speaking of Julian …” Sebastian looks anxiously over his shoulder to the front door of the bar, as if expecting Julian to appear. “Where is he?”

“I helped him into a booth by the window.” Kurt points, re-directing Sebastian’s attention to the plate glass next to the door. At a round, wooden table where they can keep an eye on him, Julian sits, head resting on his folded arms, a glass filled with more ice than water melting by his right elbow. “I thought it would be best to keep him where I could see him. I paid the bartender twenty bucks not to give him another drink.”

“Ahhh. You’ve done well, Padawan,” Sebastian says with a wink. “But you didn’t have to do that. I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it. Haven’t you heard? I’m rich.”

Sebastian snorts, worrying his lower lip with his teeth like he’s itching to remind Kurt that having a $10,000 cashier’s check at his disposal doesn’t necessarily make him rich, especially when it’s going to go straight to the bank, then straight out again to NYADA.

“I called Liv,” he says instead. “Told her we found Julian. And where.”

“How did she react?”

“I think she kinda knew. We’ve been wrapped up in the ongoing saga that is the Juliper rom-dram. We know how it plays out by now.”

Bizarrely syncopated steps approaching interrupt their conversation. Sebastian finds their owner, his eyes staying with him when he sees him coming their way. Kurt thinks he might be the tow truck driver looking for him, but a longer look says he’s not. He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans, flip-flops of all things, and he’s smoking a cigarette. Kurt waves a hand in front of his nose, making no effort to hide his disgust, but Sebastian puts up a hand, getting the man’s attention.

“Hey,” he says, “can I bum one of those?”

“Sure,” the man says.

Kurt pulls a face. One of what? he thinks. He can’t possibly mean …?

The man stops walking and reaches into his back pocket for his pack. He shakes out a single cigarette and offers it to Sebastian, who takes it, thanking him under his breath. The man pulls out a blue BIC lighter and flicks it. Sebastian puts the cigarette between his lips. He leans towards the lighter with a hand cupped over the flame, taking a few long drags to get it going. Sebastian steps back, blows a long plume of gray smoke into the air.

“Thanks,” he says.

Kurt stares at him the way primitive man must have stared at the first eclipse. His thoughts go immediately to how bad that is for Sebastian’s lungs, how awful it is for his health!

But watching him a while, sucking on that cigarette like he’s a seasoned smoker, Kurt’s second thought is how unbelievably sexy he looks.

He’s not proud of that thought, but there it is nonetheless.

“No problem,” the man says, continuing on his way. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” Sebastian takes another drag along with a bigger step back, doing his best to keep the smoke away from Kurt’s personal space. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then another drag. “This isn’t an all the time thing,” he says without opening his eyes, not interested in seeing any judgement from Kurt, Kurt figures. “This is a once-in-a-blue-fucking-moon thing. The last cigarette I had … I don’t even fucking remember. It wasn’t this year, I don’t think.” Sebastian lowers his hand and flicks the filter of the cigarette with his thumb, sending spent ash to the cement. “I need something to calm me down and I … I don’t want to go looking for anything stronger. I need to drive.”

Kurt sighs, oddly disappointed in himself at Sebastian’s need to find anything stronger to calm him down. “I understand.”

Sebastian opens a single eyelid. The look he gives Kurt isn’t a glare, but it comes close. “What’s with the sigh?”

Kurt is about to admit that he’d rather be the thing Sebastian turns to for comfort, but he squashes that comment quickly. This isn’t about him. Not a single bit. There is something else on his mind. Something that bothers him more. “You grew up too fast,” he says sadly.

The hand with the cigarette traveling up to Sebastian’s mouth stutters to a halt, Sebastian staring at it as if he’s never really looked at one before. He flicks it again, sends more ash and a few sparks to the ground. “You’re probably right,” he concludes, bringing the cigarette all the way to his lips. He takes a drag, avoids commenting further. “Anyway,” he says when enough time has passed to change the subject, “I told her that we’re probably going to stay the day here because I’m …” He chuckles again, that same uncomfortable laugh that tiptoes on the borders of crying “… I’m just plain wiped out.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Kurt agrees even though he can’t see himself sleeping after this. His body is running on adrenaline, his mind racing with images and thoughts and questions. So many fucking questions. They’re maintaining out here with tasks they have to accomplish and Julian whom they have to get home safely. What is it going to be like when they’re alone in a quiet house and a dark bedroom? The same dark bedroom, Kurt assumes, that Sebastian had to return to after he was assaulted.

“Good. That’s good.” Sebastian takes a drag and doesn’t say another word. Kurt doesn’t either. Every single word he has fails him, disappearing when he needs them most. Sebastian takes a longer than normal pull on his cigarette, then crushes the tip underneath the toe of his shoe while he blows the last of the smoke away. He ditches the butt in a nearby trash can, brushes the ash off his hands. He shoves them deep into his pockets, staring down at the smooth, beige cement. “Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“I know I probably don’t smell all that stellar at the moment, not after that but … would you mind …” Sebastian’s voice cracks and his face screws up. He tilts his head to the sky, breathes in hard through his nose “… can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” Kurt says, almost barreling into Sebastian’s embrace.

Sebastian extends an arm, opens himself up to Kurt, and Kurt steps into it. Sebastian wraps his arms around him and holds him, huddled in the safety and security of Kurt’s arms.

Together they wait in each other’s arms until the tow truck arrives.

[justjessame]

The Deal Chapter 36

I was upstairs with Judith when I heard it. A gunshot rang out and I glanced down at my little sister to see if it would wake her. She didn’t even twitch. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

How could a shot ring out? Negan had taken all of Alexandria’s weapons. There weren’t any left. Which meant that one of his people, the Saviors who I tried to ignore being around him constantly, unless we were in his apartment had shot off a round. But why? I said my own version of a prayer. Please, don’t let Dad have done something stupid. Please, let him and the others not have made things worse. Please, don’t let my deal with Negan be made in vain.

I didn’t leave Judith’s room. Not until I heard another shot ring out. And again, my baby sister didn’t even make a tiny move in her sleep. That’s two shots. That’s two times that death may have visited my dad’s people. And that’s two times too many for me to ignore.

I walked slowly downstairs. I didn’t want to face whatever was outside. I didn’t want to walk outside and see the people that trusted my dad to keep them safe have suffered more loss because they couldn’t just go along with the damn program. Was it Dad’s goal to make me regret what I’d done by showing me how little they cared that I’d done it?

When my feet hit the porch, I see Olivia’s body. Carl’s kneeling over it, and he glances up at me. What the hell happened? Moving past my little brother, and the dead body of my replacement, I see Negan and Dad facing off in the street. Rosita is prone on the ground. Spencer Monroe is laying in a puddle of blood and guts. And Negan is wearing blood like a badge on his chin and shirt.

How long had I been wrapped up in watching Judith sleep?

I hear Dad telling Negan that “your shit is waiting at the gate” and for him to leave. He doesn’t know I’m with him, I think, but I’m not sure it would matter to Dad if I was. Anger is rolling off him in waves, and Daryl is standing tense at his side. Aaron, looking as though he’d lost a fight with the heavyweight champion is leaning on Eric’s side. I’m trying to make sense of the scene, part of me BEGGING for the return of my self imposed blankness. Anything so I don’t have to see THIS.

Negan’s saying that we’ll happily leave, once he finds out who made the bullet. What? Someone made ammo? I glance around the group and I know who it had to have been when my eyes land on his mullet. Damn it, Eugene. It takes Negan threatening to kill another person, using the fierce woman named Arat as his weapon, for Eugene to admit it. Right after Tara tries to take credit.

These people. These fucking people could give a shit about what I’d tried to do when I traded places with Glenn. Every single one of them would keep fucking trying. Trying to get one step ahead of Negan. Get the big win in a war that should have ended with the death of Abraham and me taking Glenn’s place. And they had the fucking audacity to look at me like I’d fucking chose the enemy.

I walked off the porch and Negan caught my movement from the corner of his eye as he’s discussing something with Eugene. “Come on, Jessi,” he beckoned. “Rick, I’m going to be relieving you of your bullet maker and whatever you left for me at the front gate.” He tells Dad that no matter how much they find, how much they put together it won’t be enough. Dad and Alexandria’s debt has grown to be so fucking big after what’s happened today.

And then, as fast as it seemed to happen, we were leaving. I didn’t notice if Dad or Daryl or any of the rest of them were looking at me. I didn’t care. These people, my own family, were making every fucking thing worse. And I’d bargained my life to save Glenn. I’d bargained my chance to keep Judith safe and innocent on the CHANCE that Dad would get it. That he’d understand. That Daryl was wrong. It wasn’t about who had it all. It was about surviving and living without a fucking blade hanging overhead, waiting for one wrong move to drop.

I realized, as I sat in the passenger side of the cargo truck, Eugene between Negan and I, that this was the first time I’d left Alexandria without saying goodbye to THEM. Because my first trip with Negan, I’d made eye contact and acknowledged Dad and Carl. But this time? I didn’t look back once.

We return to the Sanctuary without fanfare. Aside from the surreal kneeling and having Dr. Mullet, PhD, along this time. A blonde female Savior named Laura takes charge of Eugene’s tour, and I’m left with Negan. Before we can go inside, he’s told that Fat Joey is dead. That Dwight and Sherry are gone. I wonder if he took Daryl’s. I wonder what would make them leave. And I get it. They were together. And now they were wanted.

A man with an impressive mustache, if facial hair can be considered impressive, named Simon is given the task of leading the hunt for the duo. And as we’re standing outside, Eugene is brought out, clutching a jar of pickles for some fucking reason. I listen as Negan asks him questions about his brilliance, about his abilities, and Eugene does what Eugene always does. He lies about his credentials. He talks about all those fucking faux PhDs and I wonder if he’s forgotten I’m standing beside Negan? Perhaps I’ve become so adept at being his shadow that I’ve literally disappeared. Another twist I didn’t see coming.

Negan shows Dr. Smarty Pants, his nickname for Eugene not mine, the walker security and asks how they could postpone decomposition. It’s a test. And Eugene passes by telling him that if they pour metal over their heads or some other nonsensical bullshit that I don’t really care to listen to. Negan’s so fucking impressed, I hear him gift Dr. Mullet the company of some of his harem. Well, isn’t that just amazing. They’re his sister-wives and they’re his fucking brothel workers.

I’m with Negan, in his apartment when the first salvo of trouble turns up. A letter found in the desk of the resident doctor. Seemingly showing that the poor man helped the couple escape. I closed my eyes, had it only been the day before that I stood beside Carl and witnessed Dwight help Negan punish another man? And now, not forty-eight hours later, I get to witness another fucking punishment.

Eugene is summoned for the spectacle and looks as twitchy as he ever has.

This time it’s worse than before. So much worse. I can’t look away as Negan explains the doctor’s crimes. I can’t turn my head when he taps him on the shoulder with Lucille. I can’t look away when, instead of the iron, he throws the doctor face first into the fire.

The buzzing in my ears is there. The smell of burning flesh once again heavy in the air. When Negan’s eyes find me, I’m not sure what he sees, but the mocking smile is gone. He nods to someone, and then there are arms around me. And I’m taken back to his apartment alone.

When Negan finds me, I’m curled up on his bed. The blankets wrapped tight around me, my jeans on the floor beside my boots. I can hear him open the door. I hear him take off his jacket. I hear him go to the bathroom. I feel the dip of his weight on the side of the bed I’m curled on. His fingers brush my hair out of my face, and he sees my eyes wide open.

“I thought you might be resting again.” His voice is quiet, like when talking to a frightened animal. His fingers are tracing my cheek and he sighs. “Shit, Jessi, this has been a fucking roller-coaster of a couple of days, hasn’t it?”

I don’t answer. I just look up at him, waiting for him to get to the damn point.

He shakes his head. “Am I being unreasonable with your people?” The question shocks me. Why would he ask my opinion? “I don’t think I am. I think I’m being a fucking benevolent guy.” His fingers have stilled on my chin. “When you-” He bites his bottom lip. “You gave up your life for one of them.” He was studying me again. “You were willing to die for them.” He huffs out a sigh. “What a way to repay it.”

I swallow down the hurt I feel at his reminder. He was right, about some of it. Hadn’t I thought the exact same thing? “I have no idea what your agreement with Dad entails. I don’t know about the supply expectations or whatever you two decided on.” I let myself get comfortable on the pillow. “And I don’t care. A deal is a deal, and if it’s agreed on, regardless of the pressure involved, then it should be adhered to.” I sounded like a fucking lawyer. “I made my deal with you. And I’ll fulfill it.”

It was all I could offer. I didn’t want to think about Dad and Daryl’s next moves. Because as sure as the sun rises each morning, they had one.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

Slides and Serendipity

Part Two (4.6k)

Part One 

AN: Finished the second part (yes I’m that bored) so have fun reading!!

Warnings: language, things are heating up but nothing too explicit

I had finally given up. There was no way that I could figure out what to wear to a hockey player party by myself, so I pulled out the big guns and called on a group facetime with the girls in Denver.

“You’ve barely left a week ago and I’m already jealous. I want to meet Tyler Seguin too!”, Mara exclaimed and I laughed. She was hockey obsessed, knowing everything there was to know about the sport and she had also been the one that had dragged the rest of us along to watch the Avalanche games.

“Can we please get back to the issue at hand here? I don’t know what to wear!”, I exclaimed frustrated. Instead of helping me pick out an outfit my three best friends had fangirled over Tyler the past 20 minutes.

“Honey it all depends on your expectations for the night. What do you want to happen?”, Emily asked and I groaned. I’d actually spent the bigger part of my morning debating over that question.

“I’m not so sure. I mean I kind of want to jump his bones because look at him, but I also know his reputation and I don’t know if one hookup is worth ruining the connection that we have already, I can’t imagine what that could turn into”, I sighed, falling back onto my bad and taking the iPad down with me.

“Okay so I think I know what you should do. The important thing is to not hook up with him right away, you gotta make sure that things don’t become awkward afterwards first. That doesn’t mean that you can’t tease the hell out of him until then though”, Lisa grinned conspirationally after presenting her plan. You could always count on her when it came to boy-advice. She’d made her fair share of mistakes with them throughout college after all.

They helped me rifle through my closet before finally picking out a sexy burnt orange bikini that would make me look great and a backless summer dress that was just short of not being socially acceptable anymore. Some light waterproof make up completed the bimbo look and I smiled proudly at my reflection in the mirror. I would never dumb down for a guy but I wasn’t completely above looking the part.

Not soon after it was almost time to leave. Tyler had already texted me asking me where I was at. I made sure Yogi had enough water, food and entertainment in his house outside and the backyard before locking up. Luckily he loved being outdoors more than anything.

I could hear the sounds of the party even before I turned the corner to Tyler’s house and by the volume there were definitely more than just a few people. His front gate was unlocked, which seemed a bit irresponsible to me considering his status, but I was also glad that I didn’t have to jump the gate in my short dress and sandals. I made my way to the backyard, following the sound of laughter around the house. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to leave his front door unlocked as well.

As I faced the crowd I was overwhelmed for a second. People were splashing around in the huge pool, dancing on its sidelines or lounging all over the area and as far as I could see everyone had drinks in their hands. It was impossible to spot Tyler in the chaos but before I could even start looking for him, I was ambushed by three labs who were excitedly greeting me.

I crouched down because bending over in that dress wasn’t really something to do in front of so many strangers and spent the next few minutes scratching as many ears as I could. Our cuddle sesh was interrupted by two wet arms sneaking around my shoulders and somehow pulling me up.

“Ew get off me”, I complained while trying to wiggle out of Tyler’s strong arms. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy him wrapped around me though. He finally, sadly, set me down and I turned around to hug him, wrapping my arms tightly around his bare torso. My dress was already clinging to me either way.

“You could have at least waited until I had a drink before getting me all wet”, I exclaimed, only realizing what I’d said after he started wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m sorry I just got so excited when I saw you”, he beamed at me and I then noticed that he probably already had a buzz going. I needed to catch up to him but not before enacting a part of the masterplan.

“The least you could do is help me out of that dress now”, I pouted, turning around again and lifting my hair up so he could untie the strings that held the dress together at the back.

“That’s an offer I’d never turn down”, he murmured before getting to work and I smirked, Lisa knew what she was talking about after all. After he’d finally managed to untie everything, he pushed the fabric down my shoulders. I wiggled my butt to get it down all the way while smiling at him over my shoulder. Tyler might be known for his womanizing ways but I went to MIT, I knew how to play with the opposite gender just as well.

“Any idea where to keep this?” I asked innocently after deliberately bending down and picking the now ridiculously small piece of fabric up. The look on his face was priceless and when some guy walked by commenting how he’d already had me almost naked after I’d just arrived, I finally burst out laughing. He rubbed his neck sheepishly before leading me inside the house and into one of the rooms in the back, promising no one would come in here to take my dress or shoes. I’d also made him promise to give me a small tour sometime after the party because I was now in the mood to get drunk.

“Do you want to play a round of beer pong with me?”, he asked as we got back outside and I nodded excitedly. The table was set up right next to the pool and currently unoccupied so we made our way over. I was about to ask him if he wanted to play against me instead when he said: “You start setting everything up, I’ll go grab Chubbs and his girlfriend, I know we’ll beat their asses.”

I was humming along to the music and organizing the cups when familiar arms wrapped around me again. Who knew that Tyler Seguin would be an affectionate drunk?

“This is Olivia, she’s super smart so she’s going to help me win. Olivia, these are Jamie and Katie”, he introduced me to the tall guy and the pretty blonde standing next to him. I waved at them before finishing pouring the beer in the last cup.

“You sure you’re ready for this?”, Jamie challenged and I laughed.

“I’m German. I bleed beer and everything that comes with it, so the question is are you ready?”, I grinned and took the ball from Tyler. He insisted on me going first because he was a gentleman, although I was pretty sure that that wasn’t entirely right. Him shamelessly checking me out ever since I’d gotten here was definitely anything but.

Jamie’s threat proved to be harmless and it wasn’t only because Tyler and I made up an amazing team, it was the fact that he straight up sucked. By the time we made the third shot Tyler and I had already made up a handshake to celebrate. Katie had made most of the shots for their team and even with Tyler and I doubling over with laughter we still beat them embarrassingly fast.

“We are amazing”, I sang and jumped up into Tyler’s outstretched arms. He lifted me off the ground and spun me around slightly before carefully placing me back on the pavement. Our next contenders were already setting up the table again and I shook my head to get back in the game.

We played round after round, leaving only for refills and didn’t lose a single one, we were truly the perfect team. After defeating the last couple that was willing to play against us, Tyler picked me up again but this time I quickly wrapped my legs around him so he wouldn’t drop me. I had, however, underestimated the amount of alcohol we’d just consumed and what it would do to his balance. He didn’t drop me at least, but we both fell backwards into the pool, still tightly wrapped around each other.

When we were standing upright again in the water Tyler wrapped his hands around my thighs and pushed me up a little before grasping me right below my butt. I was now a few centimeters taller than him, so I had to smile down at him while pushing his hair back with both hands before finally wrapping them around his neck. The way we were pressed up against each other sent little shocks throughout my entire body and they silenced the tiny voice at the back of my head that was screaming at me to untangle myself.

While I didn’t want to let go of him, I also knew that I needed to get the dirty thoughts out of my mind so I desperately looked around for a distraction.

“You know the waterslide is just a little over the top, but I do like the way the waterfall looks”, I joked and felt his breath fan across my neck as he started chuckling. The vibrations from his chest made him rub against me in a way that instantly made my nipples hard and I really hoped that he wasn’t able to feel them through the bikini top. This was definitely not helping at all. To make things worse he now tightened his grip on me before slowly making his way over to said waterfall.

“Lean back”, he whispered in my ear as we stood right in front of it and I slowly followed his instructions, not wanting to fall over again. His hands wandered up to my hips for more leverage and I shuddered as he lightly brushed my butt on the way. This had gone way further than just teasing but I just couldn’t bring myself to stop.

I closed my eyes right before the cold stream hit the top of my head. I knew that with me arching into him my boobs were pushed up to him and that he was probably taking a good look at them, but I couldn’t find myself to care. A small content sigh escaped my lips as the cool water soothed my scalp that had been exposed to the burning sun all afternoon.

“Fuck are you trying to kill me?”, he asked, his voice suddenly quiet and raspy.

The sexual tension was now thicker than it had been during some of my hookups and we were both still partly dressed. If he’d gotten out of the pool right this moment to take me to his bedroom, I’d have let him do anything to me.

Before I could make any stupid mistakes, like dropping my hand to the front of his shorts so I could confirm my suspicions, something beige and furry slid down the water slide before almost landing on top of us. The resulting splash cleared my thoughts for the most part and I unwrapped my legs from him, slowly sliding down. Neither of us could stop the sounds that were coming out of our mouths as I accidentally brushed against his hard dick on my way down though.

“I’ll give you a moment okay”, I said softly, leading Gerry away to play somewhere else in the pool so Tyler had the chance to compose himself. I needed the time for myself because I’d let things go way too far.

“What the hell happened to don’t hook up with him right away?!” I muttered to myself as I got out of the water afterwards. I turned around just in time to see Jamie whack Tyler across the head before heatedly gesturing in my general direction. I had a feeling that whatever they were arguing about had something to do with me.

After our little bubble burst I not only realized how many people had probably seen us do whatever that was in the pool, but also how the temperature had dropped quite a bit. Without the excitement from playing games and the heat of Tyler’s body pressed against mine I got goosebumps all over my body. I mentally cursed myself for not bringing a towel or a change of decent clothes that I could change into now.

“Shit you’re cold”, I heard Tyler exclaim as he reached me and before I could even respond anything, he was already pulling me into the house. Without the cold breeze my body started relaxing again but Tyler kept on pulling me further inside.

“I’m fine now, I can make a quick trip home to change into something warmer”, I protested but he still wouldn’t let go of my hand. We finally reached his destination and he flicked on the lights in the otherwise dark room. Only now did I realize that he had literally dragged me to his bedroom. I was about to tell him that I wouldn’t hook up with him, having shook off the daze from earlier when he held up his hands, stopping me.

“This is not what it seems like, I have innocent motives I swear. I just wanted to grab you a towel and a warm sweater for you to pull over because there’s no way I’m letting you walk anywhere alone like that”, he gestured up and down my barely covered body and I knew he had a point. It was way too cold to only be wearing that dress as well.

He told me to stay put and quickly disappeared into a door on the right side of the room, reemerging seconds later with a hoodie in his one hand and a set of new clothes for him in his other.

“This one should be long enough I think. You can use my bathroom through the door on the left and there’s a towel heater so perhaps if you put your bikini over that while taking a shower it’ll be halfway dry afterwards. Feel free to use anything you want, except for maybe my toothbrush and come find me when you’re done, okay?”

He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear before giving me a soft smile and leaving the room. I was baffled at how he’d managed to go from gripping me hard in the pool to sweet and caring in less than ten minutes. I probably would’ve been glued to my spot for a little while longer had it not been for the fact that I was freezing my ass of again.

I carefully wrung out my bikini before placing it on the towel heater like Tyler had suggested and slowly stepping into his huge shower. Steam was starting to fog up the mirrors by the time I could finally get myself to leave the comfort of the hot water hitting my skin.

Still wrapped in a fluffy towel I began wiping away at the mascara stains on my cheeks with a washcloth. The hot steam had given the supposed waterproof product its final blow and I had no desire to walk around like a panda. I tried to dry my hair with a second towel as well as possible and continued blow drying it on low afterwards. Tyler didn’t have any heat protection in his bathroom but I think I’d be even more worried if he’d actually had some. By the time I was finished my bikini was thankfully pretty much dry.

The hoodie he’d given me reached over my ass and the sleeves were way too long, once again reminding me of our size difference. It had his name on it and smelled like a mix of the shampoo that I’d just used, his cologne that I’d gotten a whiff of over the past few days, and something that I imagined was just Tyler. I absolutely loved it.

Rolling up the sleeves I tried to go for a cute oversized look, instead of looking like a homeless person and when I was finally happy with the outcome I threw the towels in the hamper and switched off all the lights on my way out.

Standing in the backyard I realized that most people had left already, only those who I’d gotten to know as Tyler’s closer friends and teammates remained spread out over the patio. I found Tyler deep in conversation with Jamie, Katie nowhere near him. They appeared to have a serious talk and I didn’t want to interrupt, so I started looking for Katie instead.

“There you are!”, she exclaimed when I’d finally spotted her among some other girls. Some I had played today, others were now staring over at my seat curiously.

“So you’re Seg’s new girlfriend?”, one of them asked and I wanted to give her an incredulous look before remembering the scene Tyler and I had pulled in the pool. To an outsider it might have looked that way, hell even to yourself as an insider it might have looked that way.

“No I’m not, we actually just met two days ago”, I responded and now most of the girls were looking at you in shock.

“You met him two days ago and he invited you to a party?!”, one of them asked. I were pretty sure she was the girlfriend of another hockey player but today had been a whirlwind of names and faces and the alcohol hadn’t helped much either.

“As far as I’ve seen there are lots of people at his parties that he doesn’t know too well”, I defended myself, remembering how he’d practically ignored half of the people that were on his property.

“Yeah but they usually just tag along without an invitation and Tyler doesn’t bother with them”, Katie explained friendly. Tyler had more than bothered with me today.

“Oh, well we figured out that we were practically neighbors and he was also probably trying to make up for the fact that Gerry had chewed my 200$ slides, of course he’d go straight for designer”, I explained sighing.

The last part made everyone laugh and soon our little group was having an animated discussion on designer versus off-the-rack. I’d never really cared either way, I just bought what I liked. I had dresses from H&M or Macy’s hanging right next to gowns that were worth a couple of grand and no name purses leaning on Hermès.

“What are you girls cackling over?”, Jamie asked and I jumped in my seat, not realizing that the two of them were now standing literally right behind me.

“We want to get the fireplace started, are you ready?”, Tyler asked in the direction of everyone while only looking at me. I nodded along with everyone else and gladly took his hand so he could pull me up to my feet. He didn’t let go though, instead pulling me closer to him.

“I’m gonna go grab a drink for me, do you want something as well?”, he asked, again brushing some loose strands out of my face. I was tempted to lean into his touch but stopped myself at the last moment. I seriously needed to get a grip.

“Yeah sure, but I don’t know if I’m in the mood for any more liquor and don’t even get me started on your disgusting American beer”, I teased smiling up to him.

“You weren’t complaining earlier”, he smirked and led me to his kitchen. That’s because I was focused on you instead.

“I didn’t really have a choice because it’s kind of hard to play beer pong with anything else, that would defeat the purpose of the sport.”

He laughed and held up his hands in defeat before saying: “Alright alright I give in, even I know that American beer is inferior, especially compared to what you guys drink in Europe. I was actually planning on drinking some wine though, do you want a glass as well?”

“You’re a wine guy?”, I exclaimed surprised. “Well I never would’ve guessed that.”

Tyler threw his had over his heart in mock offense before walking to a door and showing me his fully stocked wine cabinet so I could get a good look at it. This wasn’t ‘wine guy’ level anymore, Tyler was a connoisseur and at first it didn’t fit with the way he carried himself at all, but now that I thought about it, it made perfect sense. He loved golf for crying out loud.

Tyler reached up to a bottle of red on the upper shelves and as I knew my way around a wine cellar as well, I was sure that he’d pulled out an expensive bottle. He grabbed two stemmed glasses and I hopped on the counter, watching him expertly pour the wine.

“This is my favorite, so you’re entitled to feel special because I’m sharing it with you”, he said with a wink before handing me the bottle so I could get a look at it and then one of the glasses when I was done.

“To being a great team”, I smiled, thinking back to all the fun I’d had with him in just three days. I never would have thought that I could connect to someone so deep in such a time span, yet here we were drinking wine in his kitchen.

“To us then”, he responded softly and we clinked our glasses before taking the first sip. It had a sweet and heavy taste, perfect for slow end-of-summer evenings like the one we had ahead of us. This wine was the definition of romance, because it somehow left the lingering feeling of cuddling under a warm and heavy blanket and smiling at each other the way Tyler and I were right now. It was meant to be shared and cherished in company.

“Usually I prefer a lighter white, but I think you’ve managed to convince me with this one”, I smiled down at him from my vantage point and took another small sip before hopping down the counter.

“Come on, let’s see if Jamie is actually capable of starting a fire by himself”, Tyler joked and moved both his glass and the bottle to his right hand so he could hold out the left one to me. Without hesitation I placed my hand in his, reveling in the way his big hand completely encased mine.

I wouldn’t usually consider myself a physical person, but for some reason I found yourself craving his fingers on my skin now whenever possible. It had started during the second game of beer pong, his hand on my lower back and him leaning down to whisper soft encouragement in my ear. At first it had made it difficult to concentrate, the way he rubbed small circles on my skin distracting in the best way but as soon as I let myself relax into his touch, it was very calming.

After that I couldn’t help placing your hands on his shoulders when it was his turn or wrapping my fingers around his biceps in support. His skin was so soft and touching him quickly became my addiction, the way I was pressed against him in the pool not helping at all.

Jamie had indeed managed to start a fire already and I looked around the group of maybe ten that was now lounging on the chairs and sofas surrounding the fireplace. There wasn’t really that much space left in the circle so when Tyler sat own in a loveseat, he pulled me on top of him so I could sit in his lap sideways. I leaned against his shoulder and he wrapped his hands around me before joining the conversation.

I hadn’t felt this relaxed in so long, laughing along with everyone and the heat from Tyler’s body keeping you warm. The girls were now telling stories of the worst things fans had said to them and I was horrified at what some of them had to hear. They laughed it off mostly, but I still wondered deep down how they managed to face so much shit simply because they were in love with a guy and not let it get to them. Would I be able to do the same? I had always been very independent but my entire job and therefore most of my life relied on the approval from others. I’d taken some public hits in my late teens and I still remembered how I woke up drenched in sweat most nights during those times.

Tyler kept refilling our glasses and at one point I just leaned my head back on his shoulders, looking up at the night sky.

“Are you tired?”, he murmured softly against me, but I shook my head.

“No not yet, I’m trying to see the stars but city lights are too bright.”

“I know this spot a bit away from here where you can see them really well, I’ll take you if you want”, he responded, shifting nervously and again surprising me with the sweetness of his offer. It was as if there’d been a switch flipped, gone was the cocky guy playing beer pong, a sweet and considerate but nervous Tyler in his stead. His touch had changed from demanding to considerate, now softly stroking my back.

By the time we’d finished the bottle, only Jamie and Katie were left with us and even they said their goodbyes. I had given Katie my number earlier and she promised to text me so we could figure out a time to meet for lunch soon.

I was tempted to just stay in Tyler’s arms all night, even with more seats opening up he had made no move to get me off his lap, but I knew that that would not be the best idea.

“I should probably go”, I murmured against his neck, still wrapped tightly around him. I felt him take a deep breath but he didn’t disagree.

“I’ll walk you”, he said to my surprise.

“You don’t have to, it’s literally only five minutes and I bet you’re just as tired as I am”, I tried to refuse his offer while getting up.

“I know it’s only five minutes, therefore you’re not keeping me up and you have no excuse to not let me”, he insisted and I laughed at him pouting before giving in. I could never say no to the look he was giving me at this moment.

With his hand around my shoulder and mine wrapped around his torso we slowly made our way to my house, softly swaying because of all the alcohol we’d consumed.

“Did I tell you that you look great in my clothes yet?”, Tyler asked and let go of my shoulder so he could slowly spin me around. I shook my head, beaming with happiness. I never wanted this feeling, this glorious giddy feeling in my chest that seemed to light up my heart, to stop. I was convinced he’d kiss me as we stood there in the light of a street lantern and I’d let him, but instead he took a step back and laced his fingers through mine, slowly pulling me towards my driveway.

“Text me when you’re back home”, I said as we stood in my doorway.

“Hey that’s what I’m supposed to say”

“Just do it”, you sighed in mock exasperation before leaning up on your tippy toes to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight Tyler”

“Goodnight Liv, sleep tight”

Part Three here

[abdicatedarchive]

Striking Vipers Show || Wren, Chanel, Gabrielle, Chase, Jesse, Jonah, Juliette, Stevie, Rose, Marina, Olivia

The gang hangs out at a venue in town for a Striking Vipers (Wren, Stevie, Rose) set. 

@chrysolites @gabriellehale @jessekxller @kalidoscpe

Group at the Table

Wren: Wren was sitting with Chanel at the venue before their set, "I'm really glad you came" said Wren with a smile. He was so happy that she would come to see him preform, it made him feel like she was really his girlfriend. They were doing so much together these days, it felt like dating. She just didn't like him like that, and it hurt. But he was happy regardless because she was there.

Chanel: Chanel smiled at Wren, "Of course I came! I love seeing you perform." she said truthfully. She always came to practices and shows, but this was the first time she's gone to see him perform since their fight during homecoming. "Maybe one day you can teach me how to play." she wiggled her eyebrows. "Or I could be the Manny Santos of the band and just look pretty as I play a tambourine."

Gabrielle: Gabrielle held on to Chase's hand as they walked in. "So is this like a group thing?" She questioned as she was a bit nervous. She was proud of herself for going out in public for once.

Wren: Wren smiled, "I think you'd look pretty playing any instrument" he replied before they were interrupted by Chase and Gabrielle.

Chase: "Yeah of course it's a group thing babe" said Chase, "But I promise it'll just be us later" he added as they walked up to Chanel and Wren's table. "Hey guys" said Chase with a friendly smile. "Mind if we interrupt?" he asked, knowing that they were hopefully starting something. Gabrielle: "Well, i'd hope it would be just us later." She said giving him a nudge. Gabrielle held onto Chases are and angled her body to be mostly hidden behind hers. She just felt more protected by him. She offered a friendly smile to the others. Chanel: Chanel smiled as Wren spoke before jumping a bit as she heard Chase's voice. "Uh, nope. You're good." she looked at Chase and Gabrielle with a friendly smile, feeling pretty bad that she hadn't spoken to him for so long. "How are you?" she asked Chase. Stupid question, but she didn't know what else to say. Chase: Chase pulled up a chair for him and one for Gabrielle and pushed her chair in for her before sitting down and putting his hand on her knee, "I'm good" said Chase to his best friend, "Things are rough, but we're dealing. Wren said you two have been hanging a lot, so sorry I haven't called" Chase replied. Gabrielle: Gabrielle sat down in the chair, she knew there was a chance of seeing his friends, but she didn't expect Chanel to be there, let alone so close. Gabrielle looked over at chas and held his hand but didn't say anything

Jesse: Jesse showed up with Liv and engaged in a conversation that will be the result of a thread and then joined the group. "Hey guys! Whats up?"

Chanel: Chanel nodded at Chase, "Yeah, he's been the best. Sorry I haven't called you either." she said with a sad smile. She didn't even know what to say to Gabrielle, it just felt too awkward. 

Jonah: Then Jonah came up with Juliette with a smile on his face, "Hey, can't wait to see you guys perform." he said to Wren and Stevie. Wren: "Thanks man" said Wren putting out his fist for a fist bump to Jonah, things had definitely been better recently but it was still a little awkward. "I'm gonna go get a pitcher" said the boy getting up to use his fake ID and get them some beer. The place was pretty relaxed, so it wasn't too hard. Wren returned with a stack of cups and two pitchers of beer with the help of a fellow high schooler who was working at the place. 

Chase: Chase pulled Gabrielle into his lap to make room for all the people arriving, he also just wanted her in his lap. He put a hand on her lower back and continued making conversation with Chanel, "We can hangout soon, I want to hear about ... ya know" he said with a smirk, referring to Wren as the other boy appeared back with beer. Gabrielle: Gabrielle willing slid over into chases lap. She felt like she was asserting her dominice of belonging to chase. Gabrielle looked over at Wren when Chase suggested there was something going on. Gabrielle went to make a comment, but held back because she was trying to play nice Chanel: Chanel eyes widened when Chase spoke, hitting his arm slightly. "There's nothing to talk about." she said just cause she didn't want Wren think she was into him... even though she was... but ya know. "We'll talk later." she leaned towards Chase and whispered. "We can have a fun night together. I'll bring some wine." she said with a smile. Chase: "Just us and a double bottle of moscato baby" said Chase laughing quietly to Chanel, his hand still on Gabrielle's back as he leaned over to talk to Chanel. Gabrielle: GAbrielle raised her brows at Chanels words about having a wine night. "Sounds super fun." She said but as called her baby Gabrielle stood up. "I have to use the bathroom" She said picking up her purse and walking to the bathroom.

- click here for bathroom thread - Chanel: Chanel raised a brow at Gabrielle as the girl spoke. She looked over at Chase and frowned, "Sorry... Did I say something wrong?" she asked, leaning back in her seat. She really didn't want to have any kind of problems, this was Wren's night. But the moment she saw Juliette follow Gabrielle, she rolled her eyes. Chase: "That's on me. I think I can get away with shit because she was sitting in my lap. But she stays jealous" said Chase running his hand through his hair. How did he continuously fuck up like this. 

Rose: "Hellooooo" said Rose as she arrived in her cute little outfit, "Have you guys seen Caleb yet?" she asked. Chanel: "Do you want me to like, apologize to her or whatever?" Chanel asked, but she really didn't want to go to the bathroom with both girls in there. "I don't want to give you guys any problems." Stevie looked around to see if Caleb was here, "I haven't seen him yet, he's probably on his way. I'll let you know if he's here." she tried to smile at Rose. Chase: "No, I think that might make things worse. I don't think it's our relationship. It's just her issues" said Chase, "We've been good recently. It's just ... she forgets how I am sometimes with the cheer girls until she sees it in person" he added. Chase felt guilty, but he had seen Juliette follow her, and assumed Juliette would help her chill out. Rose: Rose touched her necklace, "He has hockey practice, but he should be here soon. This is his first time coming and seeing me perform" said the girl nervously. It felt so good to be back with him, she was just blinded by how much she liked how Caleb made her feel, and how it felt to be with him. She was definitely going to give tonight her all. Chanel: Chanel didn't think it was about the cheer girls, she thought it was just her that was the problem but she didn't say it. "Right. I'm glad you two have been good recently though." she tried to smile. "I know how whipped you are for her. I think we all do." Wren: "Chase? Whipped?" said Wren with a laugh, "couldn't be me" he said even though he was whipped himself. Stevie: Stevie nodded her head slowly and looked over at Marina who came with Rose. The two girls gave each other a look. They were on the same wavelength. "Those practices can always run late. He'll be here." she said with a forced smile. "You're gonna do great."

Chanel: "Couldn't be you? You seem like you'd be a total simp." Chanel laughed, nudging Wren softly. "You were talking to some girl that was across the country." she said, a little bitterly. "I'd say that's pretty whipped. But maybe I'm just not good with long distance shit."

Rose: Rose touched her necklace and smiled at the people around her, "He's probably so excited and running over here right now" she replied, smiling down at the ground now. She thought about texting him, but she didn't want to be needy. Wren: "Fair enough" said Wren with a smile to Chanel, "but I told you, I'm not into her like that anymore" he clarified. "I've got my eye on someone else anyways" said Wren, hoping for his moment to tell Chanel, but this was not the place or time.

Stevie: "Yeeeeaaah." Stevie said slowly. Marina looked over at Rose before rolling her eyes. She had a feeling that boy needed another beatdown. "While you wait, you want something to drink?" Stevie asked. Chanel: "Right, I almost forgot." Chanel tried to act casual but she obviously did not forget, it's all she thought about. "You gonna make a move soon? I'm sure she's so into you, who wouldn't be? I'd love to meet her some day." she lied. Chanel wasn't sure how she'd act if she saw him with some other girl. Rose: "Oooh yeah" said Rose as she poured herself a glass of beer and one for Stevie and Marina. "He's taking me on a trip tomorrow, tres romantique" she said excitedly. She just couldn't shut the fuck up about him. Rose knew she was annoying people, but she couldn't help it. "Anywayyyyys, I am so stoked for this performance" she said as she took a sip of beer. Wren: Wren wanted to roll his eyes at that comment, because she didn't want to be with him. That's who. He hoped her seeing him perform would change her mind a little, but he knew it was a lost cause. "Soon enough" he said, trying to think of who at school he could possibly fake a crush on until it felt real. Stevie: Stevie and Marina grabbed their glasses and took a sip from it. "That's cool... I'm sure you'll both have a great time together." Stevie said, confused as to why he wasn't already here. Surely he would want to come to his girlfriend's show. This was all definitely sus. 

Marina: "You're gonna do great, Rosie. I'm really excited for the first song, it was my favorite." Marina said with a big smile.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle nodded. "Right. Mark my territory. Be confident." She said "Okay, lets do this, lets go back out there." She said as she took her hand and led her too the table. She walked with power, gave a hair flip. She figured Chase would cave. She dropped her hand and took her spot back on chases lap. "Chanel, poor be a beer?"

Juliette: Juliette heard Gabrielle ask Chanel to pour her a beer a little too confidently, "I think I made a mistake" said Juliette in a whisper to Stevie.

Chanel: "Soon. Fun. Can't wait." Chanel was getting irritated with this conversation with Wren and it was starting to show. She narrowed her eyes at Gabrielle as she ask to pour her a beer. "Excuse me? You have arms, use them." she said with a little bit of attitude. Stevie: Stevie looked over at Juliette and back at the others at the table, "Is everything okay?" she whispered.

Juliette: "I think I caused this on accident" whispered Juliette back in reference to Chanel and Gabrielle. Gabrielle: Gabrielle smiled softly. She stood up and walked over and took the pitcher that was in front of the girl and poured a cup and sat back down. "Thanks for the reminder." Stevie: Stevie smiled at Juliette, "On accident? You sure?" she teased the girl. "You could be honest with me." Juliette: Juliette gave her a look, "... how dare you" said Juliette laughing quietly, "I thought she was just going to kiss him or send him a flirty text or something. I didn't think she was gonna come back here and demand Chanel be a wench" said the girl with a doe eyed look on her face. Stevie: Stevie started laughing at Juliette's choice of words, "If they break out into a fight, I guess we'll have to blame you for it." she said just to mess with the girl. "I didn't know you were like this, Hastings. A real eye opener." Juliette: "Wow Summers, I see you're a drama fiend" said Juliette squinting at the other girl. Chanel: Chanel was frustrated in every way possible at this point. If she popped off on Gabrielle, she'd ruin the night for everyone so she simply rolled her eyes and kept quiet. Gabrielle: Gabrielle took a drink from the beer, she always hated beer but it was what was provided. "So Chase" She said turning so she could look at him. "What kind of music do these play?" Stevie: "Hey, I'm just chillin." Stevie placed her hands behind her head while she leaned back in her seat. "Are you going to be a bad influence on me?" she looked around the table to make sure no one peeped before winking at Juliette. Chase: Chase smiled at Gabrielle, his head empty. He just kind of shut everything out when the girls did this. Same routine, new location. Was it his fault? Yes. Did he care? Not too much. Chase put his hand on her lower back, "It's kind of a mix" said the boy with a smile, "but it won't go too late. Then we can spend some one on one time together" he added in. He knew group settings weren't really her speed, but he knew that it was good for her to be with people even if she didn't like it. Gabrielle: Gabrielle nodded. "Interesting." She said with small smile. Though, she wasn't very interested in his, she didn't think it would be such a group activity. "I'd like that, hopefully its not to late." She wanted to be able to put gene to bed but knew the chances weren't likely. "What do you want to do later?" Chase: Chase put his hand on her outer thigh and went to whisper in her ear, "You" said Chase with a smirk on his face. Gabrielle: Gabrielle blushed a bit. She was a bit nervous but that was hot, it send shivers down her spin. "meet me in the bathroom in 2 minutes?" Chase: Chase's eyes widened and he just nodded quickly. 

Juliette: Juliette saw the interaction, "Okay whew they're good. They're definitely leaving to go hook up" said the girl before turning back to Stevie. "Okay, if anyone is a bad influence it's you" teased Juliette biting her lip a little. Gabrielle: Gabrielle got up from his lap silently and walked over to the bathroom Chase: Chase followed quickly.

- click here for bathroom thread - 

Jesse: Jesse looked up as they walked away. "So.... Do yall think they are fighting it out or fucking it out?" Stevie: Stevie sat back up and laughed, "Me? You're crazy. I'm an absolute angel." she said to Juliette with a big smile on her face. She looked over at Jesse and nodded her head, "Fucking it out, for sure. I think Chase might enjoy if they were fighting though."

Jesse: "I think Chase enjoys any attention she gives him." He said with a laugh. "I think they are fighting it out. Anyone want to put money on it?"

Wren: "She's turned him down recently" said Wren in reference to what they knew from the group chat, "So I say fighting" Rose: "Guys I just talked to the manager, we need to head backstage" said Rose coming back to the group. She looked around again for Caleb, but he would be here soon enough. Rosemary waved for the others to come join her and they headed backstage. - Rose, Stevie, and Wren leave - Jesse: Jesse smiled as ose said they had to go back stage. "Good luck guys!" Juliette: "Oooooh, they're gonna be on!" said Juliette to Olivia, she was so excited to see Stevie perform. It was painfully obvious how happy Juliette was to be here with Stevie, even though she thought she was being nonchalant about it all. Olivia: olivia looked at juliette, and honestly, she was so grateful that jesse had managed to get her to go. she was having fun, and she definitely needed that right now. the band was about to get on and she looked over at how excited juliette was. it was adorable "you are adorable, juliette. come on, let's try and get closer to the stage!" Juliette: "Do you want beer?" she asked, pouring herself a tiny little cup from the pitchers Wren had gotten. Juliette smiled at the other girl, trying to contain her excitement, "then we will totally go up!" she said smiling at her friend. Jesse: Jesse smiled, Olivia looked happy to be here which meant he did a good job. "Yeah, go up. I'll be here when you get back."

Olivia: olivia nodded and smiled, " i'd love something to drink, " she said and looked at jesse, but then realized that she was driving. " but i'm driving, so probably shouldn't. " she looked at juliette who smiled and seemed excited about getting closer to the stage. the blonde looked at jesse, who told her to go up an how he'd be there when she got back. " okay, come on, " olivia said, taking juliette's hand and pushing her way through the crowd of people. In the pit Juliette: Juliette laughed, "I can't drive well so no one here lets me drive" said Juliette, thankful that she didn't have to get behind the wheel. She really was the worst, because gays can't drive and that's just science. Juliette held Olivia's hand as they pushed through the crowd, "They're all so talented, I am so excited!!" said Juliette just beaming thinking about seeing Stevie on stage again. Olivia: olivia giggled excitedly and looked at juliette. " are you excited for some particular reason? " she asked curiously and smiled at the other girl. " because, i mean... there are some pretty faces up there, " she said and bit her bottom lip, before she wrapped an arm around juliette, squeezing it softly. " you look great, by the way. she's gonna die when sees you, " she spoke into juliette's ear. it was pretty obvious who she was excited to see. Juliette: Juliette went into a gay panic, "Ummmm" said Juliette thinking of ways to play it off. "She? I don't know what you're talking about" the girl added in. She was kind of done for, but her secret. How many people were going to figure it out? Olivia: " hey, you don't have to worry. i'm not going to tell anyone, " she said and smiled as she looked at juliette. " you're still the same sweet and amazing juliette. besides, " olivia turned to look at the stage, " i get where you coming from. she's hot, " she said and turned to look at juliette again with a wide grin on her lips. Juliette: Juliette was in shock for a second, "Am I that obvious? Because Stevie thought I was straight for like ... well always" said Juliette, swallowing hard for a second. "Don't I like ... seem straight?" she questioned. Juliette's mind was filling with questions.

Olivia: "well, the way you look at her, you know, it just kind of gives it away. that and i'm pretty good at seeing when someone likes another person," she said and shrugged. then when she asked if she didn't seem straight, olivia looked at her. "hey, there's nothing wrong with liking girls. fuck that. fuck people who say it is. love is love, you know.."

Juliette: "I mean I don't have any problem with .. it" said Juliette, she was still grappling with admitting it out loud. "My parents are ... well they're something. They care about town reputation like a little too much, and they're pretty catholic" she replied. "But who knows, Stevie is something different, just look at her play!" said Juliette fangirling a little as she watched the other girl play bass on stage. Olivia: nodding her head, olivia could understand where juliette was coming with. " i get that, but you know, your happiness is important here. not what they think or whatever. if stevie makes you happy, then i say go for it and fuck what your parents think or say." olivia looked at her as she fangirled over stevie who was on the stage, playing the bass perfectly. it was cute, the way she looked at the girl on the stage. Juliette: "I'm not trying make things difficult at home" said Juliette, she had a lot of things to think about. The affair was already making things hard enough, like being in the house. She just stared at Stevie and wondered how long she would be able to keep her around until it became too painful for Stevie to be quiet about it all.

Olivia: olivia looked at juliette, nodding her head. she felt bad for her friend, that her parents would make her feel that way. " i'm sorry to hear that. but, you shouldn't have to hide who you are. because, you're a beautiful person. "

Juliette: "I'm okay with it" said Juliette honestly, she didn't mind hiding it until she was out of the house. Whether or not Stevie would be okay with it was another whole deal. "I just hope she is" said the brunette, tucking her hair behind her ear as she stared up at the stage.

Olivia: "well," olivia said and looked at stevie, then over at juliette. "i'm sure is. you're worth waiting for," she said and nodded, giving her a quick wink before moving along with the song that was played on stage.

Juliette: Juliette started dancing with Olivia, just having a good time with the girlies. Gabrielle and Chase came to join them because they should be done by now.

Olivia: olivia giggled and smiled softly at juliette, before turning her head around and looking at gabrielle and chase who joined them. she kept jumping up and down excitedly as the music continues to play and she brushed her hair away from her face. breathing heavily, she leaned forward and spoke into juliette's ear. " i'm gonna get something to drink. do you want anything? " she asked before pulling her head back and looking at her friend.

Juliette: "totally, but small for me please" said Juliette, she didn't want to go crazy. Stevie had seen enough of her like that. She was having such a good time dancing and enjoying the music.

Olivia: olivia smiled softly and nodded as she looked over at gabrielle and chase, before starting to push her way through the crowd of people, heading for the bar where she could get them drinks. once she arrived at the bar, she leaned forward and ordered juliette something and asked for a coke for herself, as she had been the one who had been driving.

Olivia: Grabbing the drinks, Olivia made her way back over to where Juliette, chase and Gabrielle was. She handed her friend her drink and smiled, before focusing on the hand that was playing. In the corner of her eye, she had noticed Jesse sitting down with Jonah - and she hoped he was doing okay, after everything with Devyn. “Hey do you think Jonah is okay?” She asked out loudly, for either of the three to respond.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle looked over at Liv as she spoke and then at the table with the boys. "He looks fine to me? BUt I don't know him all that well."

Juliette: "I've been really wrapped up in everything" said Juliette looking to the ground, "I mean he seems fine enough at school?" she felt awful about how they would spend time together but never talk. They just liked sitting in the same room together.

Gabrielle: Gabrielle looked at Juliette, "Its just been a really crazy time. We have all been wrapped up in something." She pointed out. "I'm sure he is okay though, Jesse would have said if he wasn't right?"

Olivia: Olivia nodded and bit her bottom lip. “Yeah, I’m sure you guys are right. I just.. the whole situation was pretty messed up.”

Time passed, Olivia and Chase hungout outside and Caleb arrived during the set to see Rose perform.

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

Anton is a thorn in Liam’s side, and Madeleine has a question for Bastien

Word Count 3583

Warnings - some smut, so NOT SUITABLE FOR UNDER 18s

14 Loose Ends

���As Queen in Waiting, I can refuse to meet him’ growled Olivia, but Liam shook his head. They were back at Applewood after the interview with Anton and his lawyer. He and Olivia were in his office discussing the ins and outs of what had been said. She stood looking out of the window toward the orchard.

‘To do that I would have to enact the ‘Monarch in Waiting’ clause’ said Liam ‘That would give Anton the power to make his own legitimate demands, and you would be acknowledging the legality of your marriage’ He sat back in his chair, passing his hand over his forehead.

‘What the hell are we going to do?’ snapped Olivia. She was more used to making a physical gesture to settle anything that she didn’t agree with, and burned to be alone with Anton and a sharp knife – that or slipping poison into his food or drink. The idea of meeting him and just talking made her skin crawl. She crossed her arms across her chest, hugging them close to her body.

‘The archivists and lawyers are going over everything with a fine toothcomb’ Liam sighed ‘If anything comes up they’ll let us know immediately’ There was a knock at the door and after a discrete pause Liam’s aide entered.

‘Beg pardon Sir, Lady Madeleine wishes to talk to you. In person’ Liam made his best effort to stay calm – something he had already been attempting for some hours now after a restless night. Talking to Madeleine was a small thing, but at some point he was fearful he would crack and lose it altogether.

‘Is she outside?’ he asked, and the man nodded. Liam turned to Olivia.

‘I expect you’ve no wish to meet her, my dear’ he speculated, and the sour look she gave him confirmed his suspicion. ‘Tell her I’ll meet her in the library in ten minutes’ he said. Olivia smiled in gratitude as the aide left to deliver the message. It was pleasant to see her expression change after the stress she had borne over the last few hours.

‘Thankyou Liam’ she said simply. ‘I’ll go to my room when the coast’s clear. See you for lunch?’

‘Of course.’ He bowed and took an adjoining door that lead to the library without going out into the ante room by his office. He knew that Madeleine would not be pleased at being told to wait. Sure enough, she was scowling when she entered, but made a curtsey all the same.

‘Your majesty’ she intoned.

‘What can I do for you, Lady Madeleine?’ he asked, indicating that she sit on one of the many wing backed leather upholstered chairs. She sat neatly and elegantly, ankles crossed and thighs angled toward him.

‘Oh please, do we have to keep up the ‘Lady this’ and ‘your Majesty’ that?’ She said haughtily ‘We were very nearly engaged, and we’ve known each other a long time’

‘Maddy’ he sighed ‘I’m sorry, but I would never have willingly proposed to you, despite my father’s wishes, you should know that by now’ He remained standing, positioning himself in front of her, straightening his jacket in a gesture that belied the informality in his tone.

‘Well that’s a moot point, as Olivia is betrothed to Anton Severus’ she said acidly. He cocked his head at her ‘I can tell you were going to enter into some god forsaken alliance with her, I’m not stupid’

‘That’s not something I’m willing to discuss’ he said in a neutral tone.

‘But you’re not denying it’ she sniffed. He pursed his lips

‘What do you want, Maddy?’ he asked. She raised her eyebrows innocently.

‘Why, to be by your side, Liam’ she replied ‘If you can’t have Olivia, who else are you going to fall back on? I’m prepared to forgive you your rejection and stand shoulder to shoulder with you against Anton’ Liam gritted his teeth.

‘We’re doing all we can to refute his claim to the throne, and I have faith that we will find a way’

‘You have to have a back up plan’

‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me what I should do’ he replied, and she smiled triumphantly

‘If the worst comes to the worst, you marry me to produce an heir in order to continue your fight for the Crown, in Cordonia or in exile’ She got up to leave ‘Considering your need for an heir, perhaps you should treat my offer with more urgency’

‘I’ll never leave Cordonia willingly’ he asserted ‘and I doubt that I’ll be taking up your offer, Lady Madeleine.’ His face changed ‘Give my love to your mother when you get home’ she said smoothly. Madeleine scowled.

‘I plan to stay close to you .’ she asserted, but Liam knew he had planted a seed that would hopefully bear fruit.

------

Back in her private suite at Applewood, Madeleine pondered her conversation with Liam. When he had rejected her after Constantine’s death, she was prepared to hurt him in retaliation, but finding out about his plans with Olivia and her arranged marriage to Anton had changed everything. Madeleine still had a chance at being Queen, and she would give it all her energy. Her thoughts went to the people most likely to support her efforts, and frowned as she looked at her phone. Her mother wasn’t answering her calls, and there were no messages either. She wasn’t at the manor at Fydelia, or any of their other properties.

The last thing she had heard was that she had been making a short business trip to Monaco. She knew her well enough to surmise that ‘business’ was shorthand for some sordid liaison. She had been gone for a few days now, with no word of when she would return, which was unusual. Ordinarily she would be bombarded with messages about when she would be back, and invitations to dinner or lunch if they weren’t in the same residence together. She bit her lip and thought again, beginning to wonder how much she should worry. There was one person she could rely on to find out where she was; Adelaide was always talking about Bastien Lykel and only barely concealed how attractive she found him. He had a connection with her that none of the other guards did, plus he was discreet.

She made her way down to security and was admitted to the office. Lewis was on duty and told her that Bastien was off duty. If she’d known where his suite was she would have gone straight there, but instead asked for him to see her at his earliest convenience. She went back to one of the lounges and listlessly leafed through a glossy magazine, and after a while Bastien appeared.

He was dressed casually, and she noted a change in him. She narrowed her eyes. To be truthful, she hadn’t taken much notice of him lately – he was, after all, staff, not nobility, and she didn’t really pay attention to commoners unless she had need of their services. He looked relaxed, not as stuffy or serious as she remembered. Then she recalled some gossip about him and one of the other staff. Well, if he was involved with someone else she wouldn’t have to bump into him at Fydelia manor as she had in the past, supposedly on duty, but in reality making his way back from her mother’s rooms. That hadn’t occurred for quite some time now, but it was a relief to think that it wouldn’t happen again.

‘You wanted to see me, Lady Madeleine?’ he asked, and instantly he was back to his usual self, grave and efficient.

‘I did, Captain Lykel’ she replied ‘I’d prefer to speak to you somewhere private’

‘Of course your Grace. Perhaps the library is free’ She nodded in agreement and he went to the door to open it for her. It was gratifying to be treated with respect. Lykel had always been deferential and professional, she noted, and she was grateful that while it was obvious to her that he had some physical relationship with her mother, it had remained a secret. They reached the library, and again he opened the door for her after scanning it for other occupants and ushered her inside. She sat in the same chair she had used not so long ago when she had talked to Liam. He stood and waited for her to speak.

‘Captain, I won’t beat around the bush. I haven’t seen my mother for some days now, and I’m concerned’ She saw a flicker of some unexpected emotion briefly cross his face. Not worry or surprise – something told her he knew something she didn’t.

‘Indeed. That must be worrying, your grace’ She huffed impatiently

‘It is. I wonder if it would be possible for you to discover her whereabouts. I’m sure the King wouldn’t begrudge you your time on such a matter. Anton Severus may be in custody, but that doesn’t mean that anti monarchist sympathisers might not target members of the nobility in retaliation’ His expression was more readable this time – uneasiness and a hint of indecision, she realised. Most people wouldn’t notice the brief flickers of emotion on his face, but Madeleine was good at reading people. It was a useful skill when one seldom betrayed one’s own feelings or thoughts.

‘As a matter of fact I know exactly where your mother is’ he replied, and she raised an eyebrow in surprise ‘Unfortunately I can’t give you any details, but I can assure you she will return to Fydelia Manor in the near future’

‘You can’t tell me?’ she asked coolly.

‘I’m afraid not’ he replied. ‘I am often told things in confidence, and this is the case right now.’ He gave her a sympathetic smile ‘but I may be able to get her to contact you before she returns’

‘I’m disappointed in you, Captain Lykel’ she snapped, rising to her feet in irritation,  but he moved closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. She was instantly taken back to the first time she met, when he was on his first solo mission as a guard and she was a schoolgirl, home for the summer. His grey eyes showed concern and he radiated stability and reassurance. If she had been able to choose a father it would have been someone very much like him, even though he was marginally closer to her age than to her mother’s.

‘Trust me Madeleine’ he said gently ‘She will be home soon. It’s not my place to tell you anything more – that’s down to your mother.’

------

‘So we have to release him from prison?’ Liam said incredulously ‘At the very least he’s guilty of kidnapping, and is most likely heavily involved in an attempt to kill Lady Adelaide’  The afternoon briefing with his legal team and security teams was not going well.

‘Unfortunately, until we can totally refute his claim to the throne, we cannot keep him in jail. The matter of the kidnap of Lady Riley and Miss Turner is secondary. Moreover, Lady Adelaide’s assault did not take place on Cordonian soil.’ The lawyer said grimly ‘We can however keep him in detention somewhere more in keeping with his demands’

‘I propose that we allow him a little slack and watch for him to trip up’ Lewis chimed in. ‘Once he’s in more comfortable quarters he may very well let his guard down.’ Bastien nodded sagely, pleased to observe that his confidence in his second in command was well earned.

‘Very well, unless and until we can lock him up in jail ready for trial, we shall have to find somewhere secure for him.’ Liam acknowledged. The meeting went on for a short while before winding down.

Alone in his study, Liam sat back in his chair, scraping his fingers across his scalp, tugging at his short hair and groaning in frustration. Cordonian law was different to many other European countries. Thanks to his father, the death penalty had never been abolished, and the law tended to treat nobility different to ordinary people. Having noble blood quite literally meant ‘innocent until proved guilty’, hence Liam’s difficulty in getting Anton permanently locked up in jail. His father had gotten over that problem by more direct methods – those that disagreed with him tended to disappear or go into permanent exile.

Liam would not descend to his father’s level. He intended to use the law to defeat Anton, but it was proving increasingly difficult. Sophia was only one of the historians, archivists and lawyers working round the clock trying to unravel the ins and outs of Anton’s claim. It rather resembled the chicken and egg dilemma. Could a noble who claimed to be the rightful King be guilty of treason, or could the tables be turned and the reigning King be ousted due to a legitimate claim brought by that same noble? At what point did the monarch become the rightful ruler – at the death of the previous monarch? At his coronation? The law was vague. There had been a gap of a week or so after the death of Constantine’s father and his coronation – a week in which Anton’s grandfather Alfred had come out of exile to claim the title but then disappeared.

In the meantime, he had the distraction of the Lantern Festival at Valtoria. Security was not as much of an issue now, but Lewis and his men had gone over the manor with a fine toothcomb. Bastien was going back there that evening, taking Sophia with him in order to see to the arrangements. Damien had decided to take a couple of days off to attend the festival. After that he would have to return to his Interpol duties – for one thing, Greece was requesting that Anton be turned over to them to answer charges there, and the incident involving Adelaide in Monaco still needed some attention.

He sighed. The festival may be one of joy and relaxation but there may be little peace of mind for him, or for Olivia.

------

Sophia kicked off her shoes to stand by the huge bed and let herself fall back onto the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling.

‘If this is a guest suite, what’s the master suite like?’ she called out to Bastien, looking up at the gilded plaster frieze and ceiling rose from which a modest chandelier hung. It had been a two hour drive from Applewood, and she was excited to be at Valtoria. It was late and she wouldn’t see the grounds properly until daybreak, and didn’t need to eat until breakfast. She heard him chuckle before he entered with their suitcases, wheeling them to the side of the room for unpacking.

‘I took advantage of my position for once’ he said, sitting on the edge next to her. ‘If I’m retiring from service soon, we might as well take advantage while we can’ Sophia rolled over onto her front and pivoted so she lay next to Bastien. The high ceilinged room had huge windows looking out to the rear of the property.

‘You spoil me’ she said ‘I wonder what we’ll be able to afford when we move out of the Palace’ She lay propped up on her elbows, chin supported in her palms. She raised her feet off the bed and waved them in the air.

‘We may be eligible for a grace and favour apartment’ he said ‘Though it wouldn’t be as good as our present suite at the Palace. Liam won’t throw us out, you know’

‘We should think about where we’re going to go. I’d rather have a place of our own – you know, choose something we both like’ she said. He reached down and rubbed her back, angling his body toward hers.

��I can’t plan until Anton’s answered for his crimes’ he said regretfully ‘I’m afraid this bid for the Crown changes things somewhat and I need to be close to the King’ He kicked his shoes off and bent over to place them neatly by the dressing table, following up by taking his socks off with a sigh, balling them up to place in one of his shoes before he turned back to her.

‘You’re still leaving the Guard though, aren’t you?’ she queried.

‘Yes, theá mou, but His Majesty has offered me a post as advisor to the Council. I would like to take that role, at least until the business with Anton is settled’

‘He also said there would always be a role for me at the Palace, and I’ve been busy helping look through all the documents’ she mused ‘So I suppose it will be okay until we think of something else – if that’s what you want’

‘Of course I want to be with you, theá mou. I’m sorry I can’t be more definite, Sophia’ he said regretfully ‘I’m still getting used to the idea of a life outside the Guard. I’ve served the Crown all my working life, and I’m not ready for early retirement’ She shifted so she could squeeze his thigh.

‘We’ll work it out’ she said, and cast her gaze at his groin. She bit her lip and let her hand creep higher. ‘But for now, we really should test this bed. The room is a nice size, I bet the suite next to ours wouldn’t hear a peep if I should – you know, shout out in my sleep. If I had a nightmare…’ Bastien grabbed her hand and stood, smoothly rolling her over onto her back and followed her onto the bed, straddling her prone body and hovering over her, pinning her wrists to the mattress above her head.

‘You’re ready, my love?’ He asked, as a few days before he had comforted her on her period, and as usual they had abstained. Luckily for her, when they were bad they were short, so she nodded.

‘All over now’ she said ‘I need you’

‘Then let’s see if we can be heard’ he murmured. ‘I plan to give the mattress a thorough testing too.’ he dipped down to kiss the hollow of her neck ‘and any other part of the suite you think needs attention’ She shifted underneath him, her hips rolling. She luxuriated in the sensation of being held back, her nerves tingling in anticipation.

‘You’re a very thorough man, Mr Lykel’ she said throatily. He released her and sat up to unbutton his shirt and take it off. The sight of his torso never failed to make her tingle, and she reached to the hem of her top, seizing it with crossed arms and lifting herself off the mattress to pull it off as he unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. He got off the bed to strip them off as she unfastened and took off her slacks. She rolled over onto her front to watch him swiftly fold his clothes and strip off his pants, standing only in his boxer shorts, with the inevitable bulge that made her pulse race.

She sat up to face him and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, letting the straps down and dropping it over the edge of the bed onto the floor. He prowled onto the bed and pressed her onto her back again, stopping to kiss her belly and move down to take the top of her panties between his teeth. He drew them down and she giggled, lifting her hips off as his fingers deftly took over, pulling them down to her ankles. She let her knees fall outward and he groaned at the sight of her womanhood, delicate petals enticing him in. He stood to take off his boxer shorts, letting his length swing out, thick and heavy, and crawling over her again, lips to her collarbone.

She slipped one of her feet free of her panties but let them dangle scandalously from her other foot as he continued his attention to her body with his lips, ranging down over her belly to her mound. She stretched her arms up over her head to open her naked body to him completely, and he spread her thighs wide. Soon she felt the scratch of his beard as he explored with his tongue and she voiced her appreciation of his devotion and skill. He brought her to the edge, but just as she expected her release, drew away. She whimpered with loss until he pivoted his body to bring his hips between her thighs, and she brought her arms up around his neck to pull his lips to hers, tasting herself on his tongue.

‘I need you, my goddess’ he said hoarsely ‘Tell me you need me too’

‘Take me’ she whispered, and he pushed gently into her, gradually filling her until he was deep inside her, relishing her softness, warmth and the snug fit that welcomed him. It was short and sweet after their abstinence. Together they moved, naked bodies united in the search for pleasure, the rhythm building to a crescendo, Sophia allowing herself full voice as she came and Bastien followed. They lay back on the bed, Bastien lying on his side curled protectively around Sophia for a while before fetching cloths to clean up with. Sophia slipped under the bedclothes and they lay facing each other until her regular breathing told him she had fallen asleep, and he allowed himself to follow her.

Next Chapter 15 Up in the Air

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Four

“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.” 

― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Previous Chapters HERE

tw: Death, Loss of Parent

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

12:02pm, October 5th, 1989

“Uhh, earth to Roni.”

A shrill voice followed by a few obnoxiously bubbly giggles brings fifteen year old Roni out of her own mind, and she looks up with a hot face. She uses a finger to push her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose, but she knows the voice before she even sees who it belongs to.

Lainey Prescott, one grade above Roni and just about the bane Roni’s existence.

She stands no taller than Roni, her two best friends Olivia and Janet standing on either side of her like her little minions. With their matching pink fingernails and Pom Pom hair accessories, they look like little clones. Roni has to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

This happens nearly every day during free period. They come up to bother her, get their little digs in wherever they can, and then continue walking their laps around the track because they’re “working on their figures.”  Roni has tried everything to put an end to it, even going so far as to sit in the dirt under the bleachers, but they’ve always ended up finding her. So now Roni sits out in the open, expecting it almost every day and thanking her lucky stars when it doesn’t happen.

“Hi, Lainey,” she mutters.

“Hey, super cute high-waters today, Ron!” Olivia and Janet snicker behind Lainey, who looks incredibly pleased with herself.  “Whatcha reading?”

Roni sticks her finger between the pages of her book to mark her place and averts her gaze, ears growing hot. “Nothing.”

Olivia speaks up. “I bet it’s another one of those sci-fi books. We all know she gets off on weird shit like that.”

Olivia’s words feel like a blow to the chest, but Roni keeps her composure and swallows around a lump in her throat. Lainey doesn’t seem to notice when she nudges Roni’s sneaker with her sandal. “No seriously, what is it? Looks cool.”

Roni looks up sheepishly. “Do you really care?”

“Totally, babe.”

Roni lets out a sigh, somehow taking the bait.  “It’s called Timescape,” she explains.  “It’s set in two different time periods: the sixties, and the nineties.”

“Wow,” Lainey says,  “The future.  So cool.”

Roni licks her lips in hesitation before continuing.  “Anyway so, everything in the nineties goes wrong, and this scientist guy is  trying to contact the past so that he can prevent whats happening and essentially stop it in its tracks.”

Roni hears Janet mutter an “oh my GOD, so like time traveling? ” to a ridiculously giggly Olivia, but Lainey doesn’t acknowledge them. She instead raises her eyebrows. “Wow, tell me more, Ron.”

Now Roni knows for a fact that the girls are making fun of her, and she’s about to say something when Lainey adds, “I mean, it must be super interesting. You’ve been sitting over here reading out loud to yourself. Did you know you did that?”  She laughs over her shoulder with the other girls before continuing. “It’s adorbs.  I’m sure any guy would find that super cute.”

“Lainey—“

Lainey cuts Roni off, as if this thought has just occurred to her. “Hey, speaking of, you don’t have a boyfriend yet, right?”

Roni sighs. “I don’t.”

You know I don’t, asshole.

Lainey giggles. “Awww, it’s okay, I figured as much. But listen, my parents are out of town this weekend and I’m throwing a party. It’s gonna be a boy-girl party, and you’re invited. I’m sure we could find you a guy there.”

“Yeah,” Janet adds, “and it’s BYOB. Bring your own Book.” Her stupid joke coaxes a cackle our of Olivia, and Roni rolls her eyes.

It wasn’t even that clever.

“Yeah, you can show us all your super cool time traveling tricks.” Olivia snickers. “Or at least spew out more time traveling facts. That’ll be a hit.”

Lainey smirks. “Totally. You should come.”

What Roni wants to do is tell them to fuck off. She wants to tackle them to the ground, rip the pom poms out of their hair and shove them down their throats until they’re all blue in the face. But she can’t do that, because there’s more of them than there is of her, and frankly they scare her.

So she clears her throat.  “Guys, I don’t think—“

“Oh come on,” Janet groans. “What, do you have to ask your mommy for permission?”

Roni’s heart stops the moment the words leave her mouth, and even Lainey and Olivia shoot Janet an incredulous look, as if even they can’t believe she’s just said that.

Janet looks back at them, completely oblivious. “What?! You know she probably does.”

“Janet,” Olivia says quietly, “you know her mom died.”

Roni doesn’t know why people do that; say “died” around her like it’s a filthy word.   She’s noticed that everyone does it, including her own grandmother, and it makes her feel sick to her stomach every time.

Janet’s mouth forms a wide O shape as the realization dawns on her. “Oooooohhhh. Shit. My bad. But she doesn’t care.” She turns back to Roni. “You don’t care, right? Like, you know we’re just joking around.”

Roni feels her eyes welling with tears and she wills them to stop, please stop— at least until the girls walk away.

“Please leave me alone,” is all she manages to say.

Lainey’s perfect smile returns to her face, only far more nervous than before, and Roni can tell she’s trying to do damage control. “So anyway.”  She glares at Janet before smiling sweetly. “The offer still stands. You better be there, girl.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Roni mumbles at the ground, vision now completely blurred with tears.

“Sweet! Catch ya on the flip side.”  Lainey waves her perfectly manicured fingers in Roni’s direction before she and her minions turn on their heels— each executing a perfect hair flip as they proceed on their way.

When she’s sure they’re out of ear shot, Roni lets out a quiet sob, reaching up to rub at her runny nose with the back of her sleeve. How girls can be so cruel, she’ll never know. But these three in particular have tormented her since elementary school, and it’s exhausting.

She doesn’t know why they do it. Why they can’t just leave her alone.  She’d never spoken a word  to any of them before it began, always minded her own business, and still they were relentless. Even after her mother passed, they kept it going. In fact, it almost seemed to get worse.

But Roni is not about to let them see her cry. Not today.  So she stands, flings her backpack over her shoulder, and walks off.

She doesn’t have a destination in mind, all she knows is that she needs to get far enough away from them as possible— even if that means hiding out in the girl’s bathroom until the end of free period (Which she’s also tried doing before. It didn’t work. They always found her).

She makes her way back into the building, heading straight for her locker.  The halls are surprisingly quiet, which doesn’t surprise Roni.  It’s a gorgeous day out.  That was the whole reason she was even outside in the first place. But then Lainey and her friends had to go ruin it, and now Roni isn’t even sure what else to do except grab some things from her locker and wander aimlessly for the next thirty minutes.

Roni rounds the corner and nearly bumps into someone exiting the boy’s bathroom. She’s about to say something snarky when she realizes who it is.

Staring back at her with an apologetic smile lighting up his entire face, is Oliver Ward.

Oliver is one of her friends, she guesses.  A grade older than her, he’s not exactly considered popular but he has more friends in general than Roni does.  She doesn’t talk to him as much as she should, despite the fact that he’s always treated her with more kindness than most people at this school.  He softens once he recognizes the person he’d nearly taken out.

“Roni! Hey!”

Roni reaches up to wipe at her nose and half-heartedly reciprocates his smile.  “Hey.”  It comes out rather unenthusiastically, and she diverts her gaze from his. She doesn’t mean to come across as so pathetic, and she definitely doesn’t want him to know that anything is wrong.  But the way his face falls when he hears her response lets her know that he is most definitely on to her.

“Have you been crying?”  His question is right to the point, and it makes Roni want to start crying all over again.

“No,” she lies.

“You have,” he says, his voice softening.  “What happened?”

Roni knows there’s no use lying to him, so she shrugs.  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Oliver scowls.  He knows what that means.  “Did Lainey do something shitty again?”

Finally,  Roni looks up and gives Oliver a weak nod.  “I don’t know why she won’t just leave me alone,” she admits.  “I leave her alone.”

“Oh, Ron,” Oliver coos.  “Fuck her. Why don’t you tell someone?”

Roni shrugs again.  “That would do more bad than good, Ollie, you know that.”

Oliver tries his hardest not to smile at the nickname she’s given him.   Nobody’s called him Ollie since the first grade, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s always hated it.  Because for some reason, when she says it, he doesn’t hate it at all.

“I dunno,” Oliver says.  “It might finally put an end to her shit.”  He nods his head towards her.  “Where were you headed?”

Roni sniffs pathetically.  “Anywhere.  Just trying to kill time I guess.”

Oliver smiles.  “You can come with me!  I was just gonna finish up some homework in the library, so I don’t know how interesting it’s gonna be.  But at least you’ll have some company!”

Roni eyes Oliver, weighing her options.  On the one hand, she doesn’t want to tag along; be his little sidekick while he finishes up his work.  The last thing she wants is for him to feel the need to entertain her.  But on the other hand, she figures it’s better than moping around without any direction feeling sorry for herself. And besides, the way Oliver grins at her so full of hope and light, makes it hard to resist.

So Roni giggles and nods.  “Okay.”

“Cool.”  Oliver beams, nodding over his shoulder to signal Roni to follow him.  As they begin walking, he launches right into casual conversation.  “So, what’cha reading?”

Oliver is the kind of person who can hold a conversation with just about anyone and make it feel completely natural.  Roni hasn’t talked to him too many times, but each time she does, she thanks her lucky stars that he’s so good at keeping conversation going because otherwise she knows they would be screwed.

However, her ego is still a bit bruised from Lainey’s words, and she’s not too keen on sharing any more information about this book with anyone else.  “It’s nothing.”

“What?  It looks really cool.  What’s it called?”

Roni can feel her cheeks growing hot, and she refuses to look at Oliver when she answers him.  “Timescape.”

“Ooooh!  That sounds cool.  Is it about time?”  Not a hint of sarcasm is attached to his words, and although Roni can’t see his face she knows he’s genuinely interested.  The thought lifts her spirits just the tiniest bit.

“Kinda,” Roni says.  “It’s like, time travel stuff.  Someone in the future is trying to go back and warn people in the past about like, these catastrophic events happening in the world.  It’s actually really cool.”

Oliver whistles.  “No kidding! That sounds rad.”  They round the corner and open the large doors into the school library.  Oliver lowers his voice as they make their way to a small round table with empty seats.  “Think I could borrow it when you’re done?”

Roni nearly stops walking.  “Are you serious?”

“Yeah!”  Oliver smiles at her, slinging his backpack off of his shoulders and onto the table.  “Hell yeah.  I’d love to read it.”

Roni realizes she’s been smiling because her cheeks ache, and she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth to hide it.  She clears her throat.  “I mean yeah, if you want to.”

“Sweet!” Oliver starts unloading the contents of his backpack before pausing and looking back at Roni.  “I mean like, no rush or anything.  Finish it on your own terms.  Don’t like, freak out trying to get it to me.”  Roni notices the slight red tint to the tips of Oliver’s ears, and for some reason it’s beyond endearing.  She giggles, taking her seat beside Oliver.  

“Don’t worry, I’m a fast reader anyway.”

Oliver smiles, seemingly relieved.  “Well that’s good.”

There’s a silence that doesn’t necessarily feel awkward, but it’s charged, and now it’s Olilver’s turn to clear his throat.  He turns his attention to the textbook in front of him, opening it up and flipping through to find a specific page.  He effectively changes the subject, but it feels more like a bookmark has been placed on the tension that Roni just experienced.  She doesn’t necessarily hate it, she’s just never felt it before.  Not with Oliver Ward.

“So anyway,” he says,  “Are you any good at chemistry?  I’ve been stuck on this one problem for ages.”  

-----

8:19am, January 2nd, 1925

Roni wakes earlier today, refreshed and optimistic after spending a good bit of the previous night dancing and laughing with Harry.  She feels much more at peace and surprisingly less disappointed to wake up in 1925 than she was yesterday. In fact, she’s optimistic at the prospect of what today might hold, and she’s feeling thankful that she’s here with Harry instead of with any other guy. She does however, feel a pang of guilt at the fact that she’s made Harry spend yet another night on his couch.  She decides she’s going to work something out with him; maybe they switch off the bed every other night she’s here-- for however long that may be.

With a long stretch that cracks her entire body,  she rolls out of bed-- careful not to move too quickly since she’s already seeing stars.  She adjusts Harry’s boxers around her waist, combing her hand through her hair and preparing herself to find Harry cooking breakfast again. Maybe she can even help him. She smiles to herself at the thought.

Roni tries not to think about last night. How good it felt being so close to Harry, and how wonderful he had smelled.  She refuses to acknowledge the tension that had singed the air, the way he’d watched her and clung to her every move, and the way he’d laughed not at her, but with her.  The night had been Roni’s first taste of normalcy in the past few days, and she’s beyond grateful to Harry for making that a possibility-- tension or not.

The closer to the door she gets, however, she notices she doesn’t smell or hear anything. In fact, it sounds almost completely silent in the other room. Harry hadn’t mentioned having to work today.

That’s odd.

She pushes the door open as quietly as possible , deciding that Harry must still be asleep. She doesn’t want to bother him and she figures she can sneak a shower in before he wakes up— effectively minimizing any awkward encounters that involve her in a towel.

And then she sees it.

Roni stops dead in her tracks at the sight before her. There’s Harry, splayed out and sitting so ungracefully-- legs spread wide and toes curling into the carpet beneath the pooling fabric of his trousers, and a hand wrapped tightly around his cock.

His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, eyes closed in concentration as his hand pumps up and down, slower towards the bottom of his shaft and more rapid jerks of his wrist the higher up he gets.  When Roni hears him muttering a curse word under his breath, her blood runs cold.

She can’t help herself. It feels like a train wreck or some other disaster that she can’t help but watch.  He’s so much longer than she would have guessed. Not that she’d given it any thought in the past few days, because truth be told she really hadn’t.  If she’d had to guess, she probably would’ve at least been a bit generous with her assumptions, sure, but never this generous. He’s so well endowed she can’t tell if she wants to drool over it or just shake his hand and congratulate him.

The whole vision is just so… beautiful in an odd way, and Roni’s mouth waters when she spares a thought for what he must taste like.

Get it together, Roni. Fuck.

She turns to head back into the bedroom to leave him to it, but her ears perk when she hears him mutter another curse word and a few other filthy things that he would probably say if he were fucking up into someone.

No fucking way.

She’s not doing this right now. There’s no way she’s going to indulge in any of this, and she knows she really needs to close the door and get back in bed. Never mind the fact that she’d had the same idea as Harry last night once she’d gotten in bed, and had to physically stop herself from doing anything to ease the dull ache and wetness between her legs.  She’d settled on squeezing her thighs together every now and then to see if that would relieve any pressure (it didn’t) and had simply gone to bed telling herself she was absolutely batshit crazy.

She wasn’t going to get herself off in this boy’s bed, and she certainly wasn’t going to entertain any crazy fever dream fantasies about him either.

But now here he is, doing the exact same thing that she’d been so tempted to do, whimpering out what sounds like maybe the filthiest dirty talk she’s ever heard, and she feels like she’s going to pass out.

Harry’s head falls back against the couch, and his eyes flutter closed as an almost inaudible sigh passes his wet lips.  “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbles.  “Soaked for me, aren’t you?”

Does this happen often?  Who is he thinking of?  Who, in his mind, is fucking him so good that he’s practically crying alone on his couch?  Roni feels a brief pang of jealousy followed by guilt and a mental slap to the face to remind herself to get it the fuck together.

Roni allows herself a few more moments to watch him tease himself, watching his swollen cock drip with his pre-cum, and she can’t help but to lick her lips when she sees the way his lips curl around his teeth. With eyebrows furrowed, Harry slaps a hand across his mouth to mute his pitiful whimpers.  He’s close, and Roni decides that now is as good a time as any to go back into the bedroom and grant him his privacy.

Silently closing the door behind her, Roni lets out all of her air in one long exhale and stares at the wall opposite her.  Try as she might (or might not), she can’t get the image out of her brain.  How is she supposed to face him later? Is this even something she should bring up? How would she even start that conversation? And what kind of response would that warrant from him? Surely he’d think she was snooping, and probably be mad at her for invading his privacy.

Roni presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, willing the image of him getting himself off to completely exit her brain.  She takes a few minutes to breathe, pacing around the room to get this strangely nervous energy out of her system, before sitting down on the bed with another long sigh.  She knows she’s got no choice but to wait it out now, and for some reason it makes her anxiety a million times worse than it was before.

It’s a few minutes later when Roni hears the bathroom door close, and finally she feels brave enough to make her way back into the living room of the apartment.  She moves slowly, still, as if afraid to make too much noise, and bites at her lip as she makes her way into the quiet room.

No one would ever guess that the events of a few minutes ago had even occurred.  The couch looks completely untouched, the little blanket Harry’s been using at night folded up and slung neaty across the arm.  The air does feel unmistakably hotter in here (or maybe that’s just Roni), but otherwise everything is perfectly still and normal.

She makes her way unsurely into the kitchen.  Should she make herself at home and start cooking?  It would be a nice gesture on her part, and a somewhat wordless apology for the slight invasion of privacy.  Even if she wasn’t outright apologizing, it would definitely clear her conscience.

Roni reaches up to open one of the cabinets to see if there’s anything available to make for breakfast.  It blows her mind that Harry doesn’t have a simple pantry in his apartment, although she’s not even sure a pantry would fit given the size of the place.

She frowns when she’s met with stacks of plates behind the cabinet door.  Where the hell does Harry keep his food anyway?

The refrigerator in the corner of the kitchen is no bigger than a box, and when she opens it she’s met with even less food than she’d been expecting.  Does Harry even eat?

“Oh! Morning!”

Roni turns with a start when she hears Harry’s pleasant greeting, his tone now a stark contrast to the desperate whimper it was just minutes ago.  Roni’s entire body shivers at the memory.

“Hey!” she greets as normally as possible. “Morning.”

Harry walks over to pour himself a glass of water.  “Sleep alright?”

“M-hm!”  Does he know that she knows?

“That’s good.”  Harry smiles, completely innocent.  “You’re up earlier this morning.  Did I wake you?”

“What?”  It takes Roni a moment to realize he’s not referring to that, and she laughs nervously.  “Oh, no, you’re good.  Just like, my natural clock I guess.”

“You’re getting more used to being here.”  Harry grins.  “Wonderful.”

Roni smiles at him a tick too long, and she turns her attention to the cupboards.  “Anyway,” she says,  “Can I help with breakfast?”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“I want to!”

“You’re a guest.”

Roni shrugs.  “Not really.  Not anymore.  I told you I’ve gotta earn my keep around here.”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head at her.  “Alright.”  He blows his messy morning hair off of his face and glances around the kitchen, pondering what to even suggest. “Well, I haven’t got much.”

“Eggs are fine again!” Roni suggests, before a thought pops into her mind.  “Actually, got anything to make pancakes?”

Harry beams.  “I think I do.”

“Perfect! Pancakes are my specialty.”

Roni and Harry set to work then, falling comfortably into step side by side as they weave their way around the kitchen.  They launch immediately into conversation as they work, and it all feels so disgustingly domestic and comfortable that Roni almost forgets there’s anything abnormal about her situation. (She also temporarily forgets what she just saw on the couch minutes ago, although every time she catches a glimpse of his hand she is so painfully reminded.)  They discuss buying Roni new clothes, since she is going to be here for the foreseeable future, and Roni asks several questions about what to expect when entering the roaring 20s.  Harry answers her, “lots of lions” and when she doesn’t understand right away, he giggles through his explanation of,  “‘Roaring.’ Get it? Sorry.”

It’s when they’re sitting at the table side by side, shoveling pancakes into their mouths, that Roni shifts topics.

“Your eye looks better!”

Harry chuckles.  “It does, doesn’t it? Just got a look at it in the mirror.  The swelling  has gone down significantly.”

“Thank goodness,” Roni nods.  “We have to be looking our best tonight, after all. We’re still on for dancing?”

Harry smiles around his glass of milk as he sips, and there’s a brief moment where he forgets to wipe his milk mustache off in which Roni completely melts.  “‘Course we are,” he says with a nod.

“What kinds of places are we going?  Like are we just gonna go bar hopping?  Or like… what’s the plan?  What should I prepare for?  Should I wear comfy shoes?”

Harry makes a face, not answering her right away. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.  He takes another sip of milk, and now Roni is wondering if she’s said something wrong, because his entire demeanor shifts.  “What?  Is that not how it works here?”

Harry won’t even look at her, but the smile on his face hardly falters-- if anything it just looks a bit more regretful.  “No,” he says.  “It’s not that.”

Roni frowns.  “Well, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to! We can just--”

“It isn’t that either.”  Harry finally looks at Roni with embarrassment.  He hesitates to speak, until she presses him with a look.  He sighs.  “Veronica, I have to tell you something.”

Roni hates those words.  Any time someone has said something to her along those lines, it is almost always followed by bad news.  She leans closer to him.  “What’s wrong?”

“I… don’t have enough money… to take you to several places. I can only afford one, and it’s only because I know the guy who owns it.”

Roni still doesn’t understand, so she shakes her head and places her hand on Harry’s arm reassuringly.  “Harry, that’s not a big deal, I don’t mind if--”

“No, listen.  Please.  I have to tell you this because it’s gone on for too long, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to hide it from you.”  

Roni swallows, preparing herself for the worst.  Harry’s got a wife and child living somewhere else that he has to support, and they don’t know about this apartment.  Harry is sick and dying and only has enough money to pay his medical bills for the next couple of months until he shrivels away.  Harry has--

“I don’t have a job.”

Oh.

Roni blinks back at him, trying to find the proper words to go about responding to him.  She isn’t mad by any means, but he’s looking at her like she should be.  His cheeks burn red, and his skin under Roni’s hand feels hot to the touch.  He licks his lips, raising his eyebrows expectantly at her, and she realizes she’s just been sitting here with her mouth open.  She shakes her head, and speaks with as much gentleness as she can conjure up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.  I really don’t.  I don’t think I anticipated you being here as long as you are-- which, I’m so happy that you are, by the way-- so I didn’t think it would come up.  And now I want to take you out and buy you clothes, and I still very much intend to do that, because I do have money left over for that.  But I just can’t do it to the extent that I would like to.  And it’s awful, because I really would love to show you around, take you to several dance places, etcetera etcetera, but…. I can’t.”

The amount of sadness in Harry’s eyes makes Roni’s heart feel heavy, and she gives his arm a squeeze.  “Harry,” she sighs.  

“Are you disappointed?”

“Of course I’m not disappointed.  If anything, I’m disappointed in myself.  I’ve been so selfish this entire time--”

“Don’t do that.”

“--But if I’d known, I could’ve helped!”

Harry chuckles, and it’s the first time in a few minutes that he seems like himself again. “How on earth could you have helped?”

“I don’t know,” Roni shrugs, “but we would’ve found a way.  You’re doing so much to help me, I can’t just sit here and let that happen without returning the favor!”

“There’s no favor to return,” Harry says with a smile.  “It’s my pleasure.”

Roni sits back in her chair, already brainstorming and completely ignoring his words.  “Lets see,” she says, drumming her fingers along the table top.   “I don’t need clothes--”

“Yes you do.”  Harry snorts.  “You’re practically swimming in mine.”

“Yeah but--”

Harry holds up his hand to stop her.  “I’ve got that part covered, Veronica.  I promise you.”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Fine.  One outfit--”

“Two.”  Harry cuts her off again, his cheeky smile fully returning to his face.  “At the very least.  You need one for tonight and another for anything else.”

“But--”

“I’ve already got it all sorted.  You’re not going to persuade me otherwise.”  

“So you’re just gonna blow the last of your money… on me?”

“Not the last of it!” Harry shrugs, then laughs when Roni scoffs.  “Love,  I didn’t tell you this to worry you.  I’ll find another job sooner or later.  I just told you so that you wouldn’t be let down when I turn out to be a rather disappointing date.”

“You’re not disappointing.”  Roni frowns.  “We’re gonna get you a job, alright?”

“I believe you!” Harry says, popping another piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Starting today.”

“Today?!”  Harry speaks through a mouthful and swallows a bit harder than he’d intended.  “No, love, today is about finding you clothes--”

“And finding you a job.”  Roni grins brilliantly at him.   “We’re doing both at the same time.”  When Harry narrows his eyes at her, she only giggles and echoes his own words back at him.  “You’re not going to persuade me otherwise.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but his dimpled smile has returned full force.  He shakes his head and takes another bite.  “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Roni pops the ‘p’ at the end of the world before taking a sip of her milk.  “So hurry up and finish breakfast.  We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

----

It’s three hours later when Roni and Harry find themselves downtown, after an hour of cleaning up their messes in the kitchen and Harry awkwardly explaining to Roni how the shower worked.  They’d wasted no time in buying Roni the appropriate outfits,  and she’d changed in the restroom at a high end cafe.  (The looks she’d received were actually quite hysterical-- dressed in Harry’s clothes and entering the women’s restroom only to emerge wearing a brown dress, stockings, and brand new shoes.)

Roni’s first time stepping out of Harry’s apartment and into the daylight had been surreal.  She’d felt dizzy several times, especially when comparing the shops and restaurants along the streets now to the ones of her own time.  It wasn’t that she didn’t know her way around; she knew this city like the back of her hand.  But seeing everything-- and everyone-- so different is a feeling unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life.

But now here she is, dressed the part and feeling a hundred times more confident and present than before.  She and Harry had visited numerous businesses for him to apply to, and each one had given them roughly the same answer.  Promises to call seemed to only crush Harry’s spirit, which Roni understood.  But she’d remained as positive and enthusiastic about the entire process as she could, and now here she is-- encouraging him to just pop into one more store with her.  

“What if they’re the ones that are gonna offer you a job, you know?”

“Or they’ll just promise to call me,” Harry says with a shrug.  “You know how those things work.  They promise to call and they never do.”

Roni is about to launch into an entire spiel about how Harry is only going to attract what he puts out there and he shouldn’t be going into this with a negative attitude, when something catches her eye.

“Oh my god.”  

She stops dead in her tracks, and it takes Harry a moment to notice she isn’t behind him.  He turns to see Roni staring in disbelief at one of the little shops along the strip.  He follows her gaze to understand what she’s so struck by, but it only confuses him more.  “What, the tobacco place?”

“No, the book store.”  Roni feels like crying and she doesn’t even know why.  It’s not a particularly emotional moment by any means, but it’s strange and surreal and the only thing her body can think to do with all of the unusual feelings she’s feeling is to expel them through tears.  

She doesn’t end up crying, not really, but she does have to blink the mist out of her eyes to make sure she isn’t seeing anything.

The sign above the book shop is the same one she’d gotten so used to seeing nearly every day of her life in the 90s, but now it’s got a fresh coat of paint and it’s bright and shiny rather than weathered with time.  It reads, loud and proud in white paint: The Little Read Book, and Roni laughs in disbelief.

If Roni remembers correctly, the shop was opened in 1920-- which technically is five years ago-- by Eileen’s grandmother, and Roni realizes that that means Eileen isn’t born yet, and won’t be for another ten years.

“Harry,” Roni says quietly to a patient Harry who’s been waiting for her to say something,  “I work there.”

“What?”  Harry scoffs, glancing from the shop to Roni’s awe-stricken face.  “What on earth do you-- oh.”  It finally dawns on Harry, only now he isn’t sure at all what the proper way to respond to this situation would be.  He clears his throat.  “You don’t say?  Well, that’s interesting.”

Without thinking, Roni grabs Harry’s hand and yanks him with her as she makes her way to the shop.  “We have to go in,” she says, completely unaware of the way Harry is blushing at her small hand in his.

A familiar bell rings the moment Roni opens the door, and out of habit she wants to call out a greeting to Eileen. The shop smells exactly the same, and it’s organized almost identically to the way it looks in the 90s. The difference is on the walls- there are significantly less photographs covering them, and the ones that are tacked to the green wallpaper are fresh and not yellowed with age.

A few customers walk among the shelves, talking quietly to themselves, and faint jazz music plays from the radio behind the front desk.  The radio is still there in Roni’s time, but it has long since stopped working, and seeing it in all its glory is something so surreal that Roni gets dizzy all over again.

“May I help you?”

Roni turns her attention to a girl much younger than her rounding the corner carrying an armful of books.  Roni’s knee-jerk reaction is to go help the girl but she refrains-- reminding herself that she does not, in fact, work here at the moment.

The girl plops the pile onto the desk and Roni gets a glimpse of her nametag.  It reads “Daisy” in a plain blue font, and Roni wracks her brain trying to remember if she’s ever heard this name before and if this person holds any significance in Eileen’s life.

It’s Harry who speaks first.  “Hi, I was wondering if you had any available positions open?”

The question takes both Daisy and Roni by surprise, and Roni can’t stop her jaw from falling practically on the floor.  Of course it makes sense for him to work here, and she wishes she’d come up with the idea herself. She’d been so shocked to see this place in the context it’s in now, that she’d forgotten all about the task at hand.  A pang of guilt strikes her belly for a brief moment.

Daisy blinks back surprise, a pleasant smile growing on her face.  “Really?”

“Yes ma’am.”  Harry beams,  “I’m looking to start as soon as possible.”

Daisy eyes Harry for a moment, stopping briefly on his still faint-purple eye, before leaning against the counter and grinning.  “What’s your name?”

“Harry,” he replies, holding out his hand.  “Styles.”

Daisy shakes his hand with a smile before turning expectantly to Roni, and now Roni suddenly feels put on the spot.

“Uh,” she stammers, reaching to shake Daisy’s hand.  “I’m Roni.”

Daisy makes a face, cocking her head to one side.  “As in Ronald?”

Harry snorts, and Roni sighs.  “No, Veronica.  Sorry, I should’ve been more clear.”

“No!” Daisy says, “It’s just a unique name.  I’ve never heard anything like that before.  I like it.  Are you interested in a position as well?”  Her bright beautiful smile returns back to her face, and it’s the first time that Roni’s really looked closely. She can clearly see the almost chilling resemblance to Eileen now, and it makes her feel woozy.

It takes everything in Roni not to explain the situation, but how would she even start?  

Actually, I do work here, but not right now-- seventy-four years into the future, and I can give you my official employee reference for you to hire Harry!

Roni sees Harry smirking at her as if he’s thinking the same thing she is, and she giggles nervously.  “No.  Thank you though.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind, I’m always hiring!”  Daisy makes her way behind the counter to organize the books as she speaks.  “My name is Daisy Hartford. I actually recently took over the business with my husband Lawrence.  My mother opened the shop five years ago, but she gave the business to us when we got married last summer.”

Roni tunes Daisy out as she comes to the realization that Daisy is Eileen’s mother.  It feels so strange to see this young girl, likely no older than nineteen, running a business that Roni knows by heart, and speaking of her mother and her husband so candidly.  She doesn’t know that she’s going to have four children, and that one of them is going to be Eileen.  She doesn’t know that Eileen is going to take over the shop one day.  Hell, she probably doesn’t even know that the shop is going to make it another seventy-four plus years.  She doesn’t know any of this-- but Roni does.

Daisy continues rambling, bringing Roni out of her thoughts.  “I love it, but I could use all the help I can get.  Especially once we start having little ones running around, do you know what I mean?  I’m sure the two of you understand.”

Harry’s smirk only deepens while Roni feels her face is on fire. Her voice is so quiet that even she has a hard time hearing herself. “Oh, we’re not--”

“Well” Daisy unintentionally cuts Roni off, smiling sweetly.  “I’m sure I don’t need to bore you with my story.”  She turns to Harry with a pointed look.  “Mr. Styles.  Have you any experience working with books?”

Roni can almost hear the panic bells going off in Harry’s head, but his exterior remains cool and collected.  “I do not,” he says,  “But I am a fast learner.”

“Excellent.”  Daisy flips nonchalantly through a book before setting it aside.  “And your current employer is whom?”

Harry swallows, his ego clearly slightly bruised.  He fidgets with his fingers when he talks, drawing Roni’s attention to the fact that even she’s fidgeting with her ring out of pure nervousness.  “I don’t have one, ma’am.  But my previous employer was Milton and Sons.  I made shoes.”

“Oh, how funny!  I’ve got a pair of Miltons on right now!”  Daisy kicks out her leg a bit to show off her shoes, and it makes both Roni and Harry giggle.

“Those are quite nice,” Harry says.  “I’ll bet I made them.”

“I’ll bet you did!”  Daisy beams, before realizing that this is still a job interview-- albeit a very lax one. She clears her throat and settles herself down.  “Alright, alright.  Next question.  Why The Little Read Book?”

It’s another one of those moments where Roni wants to jump in, and Harry can see her internal struggle.  “Well,” he says slowly,  “A dear friend of mine recommended this place.”

“Did he?  What’s his name?”

Harry’s lips twitch.  “Ronald.”

Roni nearly chokes, but Harry remains completely serious as Daisy thinks long and hard.  “Ronald…. Mr. Whitley?  He comes in here quite often.”

“Maybe,” Harry says with a shrug. “I’ve never caught his last name before.  But in any case, Ronald has been coming here for years now.  He speaks very highly of this place.  Says it feels like home to him.  And I can see why.  You’ve got a remarkable business here, Mrs. Hartford.”

Daisy beams.  “Thank you! That’s lovely to hear.”  

After a few more questions that almost all lead into a conversation of some sort, Roni, Daisy, and Harry feel like three chums just hanging out and having a chat.  Which was something Eileen had constantly told Roni about Daisy.

“My mother could befriend a rock if you gave her enough time,” Eileen would say.  “She would hold conversation with just about anyone.  Everybody loved her, and with good reason.”

Now that she’s meeting her, Roni would have to agree.

“Well, Mr. Styles,” Daisy says through a sigh.  “I suppose I’ve just got one question left for you, and it’s the most important one.”

Harry nods.  “Shoot.”

“When can you start?”

Roni can tell that Harry wants to leap up in the air and celebrate.  She knows how much this means to him and, frankly, she’s feeling the exact same way.  She beams at Harry, expectantly awaiting his answer.  While he remains as calm as possible, there is no denying the dimple on his cheek showing just how happy he is.

“Tomorrow?” Harry raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“We’re closed tomorrow.”  Roni and Daisy say this at the same time, and when Daisy shoots Roni a look of confusion, Roni fumbles over an explanation.  Truth be told, it was merely force of habit.  But that isn’t something she has time to explain to Daisy, so she shrugs.

“Sorry, I’ve just-- tried to come in here a few times on Saturdays and Sundays and always realized you were closed.  Made that mistake too many times.  Ha. Sorry.”

This is a tradition no longer kept in 1999, but Roni remembers the days when both Saturdays and Sundays were off days.  In 1998 Eileen had decided to open up Saturdays for business, keeping Sundays blocked off because “I’m a God-fearing woman, Veronica.”   But still, it is Roni’s knee-jerk reaction to respond the way that she just has, and she’s thankful that Daisy bought her explanation.

“Right,” Daisy giggles.  “Well, in any case, Mr. Styles, are you free to start Monday around eleven?”

Harry nods.  “Monday around eleven sounds great.”

“Wonderful!  I can’t wait to work with you.”  She turns to Roni.  “And I’m sure I’ll be seeing much more of you in here, Mrs. Styles.”

Roni opens her mouth to say something but is cut off immediately by Harry taking her hand and tugging her towards the door.  “Right, lovely to meet you, Mrs. Hartford.  I’ll see you Monday at eleven, and not a minute later!”

The door closes behind them and they’re back outside, squinting at one another in the sunlight.  Harry’s smiling like an excited little boy, and after a moment of watching him, Roni presses him with a nudge.  “Well?”

“Veronica,” Harry says softly, “We fucking did it.”

It’s the first time Roni’s heard Harry (knowingly) curse in front of her, and it makes her giggle at his unfiltered excitement.  She takes both of Harry’s hands in hers and squeezes, beaming up at him before just giving in and wrapping her arms around his torso.  She gives him a tight squeeze and leans affectionately into him.

“Hell yeah,” she says,  “We fucking did.”

----

“Harryyy,” Roni whines from the bathroom.

“Yes, love?”

Roni sighs loudly, and the noise makes Harry chuckle to himself from his spot on the couch.  “You can’t laugh, okay?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because.”  Roni opens the door a crack, barely peeking her head out to look at Harry.  “I need help.”

It’s a few hours later and Harry and Roni have found themselves back at Harry’s place to freshen up for the evening.  Roni had insisted she’d be fine changing in another public restroom, but Harry had refused-- saying that he needed to get changed into something “spiffier.”

The outfit Harry had bought for Roni seemed nice enough, but now that she’s actually trying to do up the buttons in the back while keeping the sash tied correctly, she’s realizing just how complicated the entire outfit is. It doesn’t help that the only bra she has is the one she’d been wearing the night she arrived, which is very modern in comparison to the rest of the dress.   Try as she might, there is no way she could manage getting the buttons all done up herself.  So she’d swallowed her pride, and now here she is-- pitifully asking Harry for help.

Harry looks lovely, of course, and it’s the nicest Roni has seen him dress the entire time she’s been here.  He’s in a gray suit buttoned up the front, and a nice pair of leather shoes that, admittedly could use a bit of a shine but are altogether so handsome and so Harry.  He completes the entire ensemble with a little gray cap on his head-- because of course he does-- and Roni suddenly feels self conscious when he looks at her.

He smiles knowingly, rising to his feet and heading towards the bathroom door.  “Too advanced for you then?”

Roni pouts, stepping out of the bathroom in the half buttoned, half tied mess of a dress.  “I just can’t get the buttons done,” she huffs.  “And the belt won’t stay tied!”

Harry snorts, picking up the ribbon that droops around Roni’s waist.  “It doesn’t go there.”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Well that would’ve been nice to know ten minutes ago.”

“Alright, alright,”  Harry says through another laugh.  “Turn around.”

Roni complies without thinking, and Harry’s breath catches in his throat the moment she does.  

It’s the first time he’s seen a woman’s bare back in, god, he doesn’t even know how long.  She’s gotten the buttons done up herself all the way to the spot just before her back dips into her bottom, and Harry subconsciously licks his lips at the involuntary thought of what lies beneath the southernmost button.  The lace of her brassiere clings delicately to her back, and although Harry has seen a decent amount of brassieres in his lifetime, he’s never quite seen one this intricate.  He would give anything to unlatch it and place his lips to the spot on her skin where it rested, but he knows he can’t.  He knows he’s got a job to do here, and she’s waiting.

Harry doesn’t realize he’s been staring for so long until Roni speaks. “What, did I mess it up?”

“Yes” Harry says, praying that Roni doesn’t notice the audible crack in his voice.  “But it’s okay.  Nothing I can’t fix.”

With shaky hands Harry works to fasten the buttons up her back.  Roni sighs, seemingly unaware of the way Harry trembles behind her.  For some reason the fact that this is completely normal to Roni, in a time where it’s scandalous for any unwed woman to present herself to a man this way, is making this all the more sexy to him.  He licks his lips, focusing on getting this done as quickly as possible so as not to make it weird, while also savoring the moment as much as he can.  

He can feel the heat from her skin, and he can smell his shampoo in her hair, and he closes his eyes to allow the scent to fill his nose.  Should he say something?  Is he being weird by not saying anything?  Can she feel how absolutely tense he is as he tries to focus on not touching her for too long?  He’s completely short-circuited, and he gulps trying to come up with something to talk about.

When Harry’s finger accidentally grazes a spot on Roni’s back, she jolts, starling Harry.

“Sorry, sorry!” Harry blurts.  “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, it’s just-- your hands are cold.”

“Oh.” Idiot.  “Sorry.”

“No,” Roni says again.  “It felt… good.”

“Oh.”  

Can he say anything other than oh?

Harry watches as goosebumps prickle Roni’s skin, and he moves slower now, taking special care to brush his fingers against her back occasionally.  If she said it felt good, it’s all he can do to keep her feeling that way.   She swallows and audibly exhales,  and the goosebumps never fade or shrink.  

Harry doesn’t know why it happens this way with her.  Everything is always so friendly and normal, and then the most casual and mundane thing sets him off.  He knows she feels it too, because even over her shoulder he can see her eyes nervously darting around with every controlled breath she takes.   She, too, looks like she wants to say something and can’t find the words, but Harry doesn’t mind.  The higher he gets with her buttons, the slower he goes.

With a shaky hand, Harry reaches up to gather Roni’s hair in his hand and gently brushes it over her shoulder and out of his way.  She shivers when he does this, and it makes him smile to himself.  If ever he should be lucky enough to be this close to Roni again, he needs to remember that she likes to have her hair played with.

When he finally reaches the top button, he takes his time fastening it.  He doesn’t realize that he and Roni are both holding their breaths until both of them let it out in a sigh.  He closes his eyes briefly, willing time to stop just for moment so that he can savor this longer, but he has no time to linger on the thought before Roni is spinning around to face him.

“Does it look okay?  Like seriously, do I like… fit with the times?”

She looks genuinely worried, and her eyes scan his for any sign of humor in his response.  

How can Harry tell her that she looks like a dream?  She looks like everything he’s ever wanted and so, so much more.  Of course he’d gone a tad over his planned budget in buying her this outfit, but seeing her here, wearing it and looking like that makes it all worth it.  Were dresses like this supposed to fit this way?  He’s never seen a dress look so good on anybody before, and he doesn’t know how on earth to tell her that without frightening her off.

So he keeps his composure as much as he can, smiling mischievously down at her.  “Not yet.”

He reaches for the tie that Roni had mislabeled a belt and, feeling bolder now, unties it from around her hips.  She squirms a bit in his grasp but she isn’t smiling, not yet, and Harry realizes that fitting in is something incredibly important to her.

“Right, hold still.”  Harry loops the tie around the back of Roni’s neck, brushing her hair up over it and smiling when he notices the goosebumps on her skin once again.  He watches her face closely as he ties the tie in a loose knot in the middle of her chest.  She won’t look at him anymore, but there’s a hint of a smile gracing her pretty lips, so he knows he’s got her where he wants her.   He secures the knot and takes the two loose ends of the tie in his hands, yanking her gently closer to him.

Roni stumbles and gasps softy, before glaring up at him.  “Hey, careful! I could’ve--”

She trails off when she sees the way he’s smiling at her, and she softens immediately.  Her eyes hold an almost indiscernible worry, and if Harry had blinked he would’ve missed the way they darted down to his lips for just a split second.

Harry smirks.  “Now you look perfect.”

Roni giggles nervously, a red tint glowing from her cheeks as she averts her gaze.  She seems to come back to her senses slowly, and Harry is pleased with the effect he has on her.

“Thanks,” she says softly, stepping back and out of the circle of his arms,  “For… helping me.  I don’t mean to be so helpless it’s just…. You know.”

Harry nods.  “I do know,” he says with a reassuring smile.”  He places a hand on his belly.  “I also know that my stomach has been growling for the last hour, and I’m itching to show you off on that dance floor.”  He offers her his arm, grinning smugly down at her.  “So.  Shall we?”

---

The New York air is much colder now, and Roni leans closer to Harry for warmth as they walk.  She’s significantly less afraid now that she looks the part, even going so far as to give passersby a few polite head nods and a quick “good evening!”

Harry grins down at her, squeezing her arm with his own.  “You’re a proper lady now, aren’t you?”

Roni takes on her best posh accent, making Harry snort when she talks.  “Well I look the part, darling, but now I’ve got to act it, haven’t I?”

Through residual giggles, Harry shakes his head.  “You had me up until the accent.”

“What a shame,” Roni says, making her accent even thicker and giggling to herself.  “I’ll have to work on that.”

A clocktower in the distance chimes six o’clock as Harry and Roni finally approach their destination.   It’s busier than Roni had anticipated, but then again it is Friday night. This seems like the place to be, and if this is the only place Harry can take her tonight, he definitely picked a good one.

Harry talks briefly with the host at the front desk, who he’d mentioned to Roni that he was friends with, but Roni doesn’t even pay attention to anything being said.  She instead takes this time to really study the place.  Several round tables surround the large dance floor.  If Roni remembers correctly, this building is a roller rink in her time, and it’s so strange to see it as something so drastically different now.  

It’s also strange to see how many people are smoking indoors here, and Roni coughs when a woman walks by and wafts cigarette smoke into her face.

They’re seated shortly at a smaller table in the corner, and when the host returns back to his post, Harry beams at Roni.  “So? What do you think?”

“It’s cute!” Roni says. “It’s weird because I’ve been here but you know, like… in the 90s.”

“Yeah?  Is it pretty much the same?”

“Not at all,” Roni laughs.  “I mean the big dance area kind of looks the same I guess.  But it’s a huge roller rink.”

“A what?” Harry scrunches up his face, but doesn’t even give Roni a chance to answer him. “Oh, like for roller skates?”

“Yeah!”

Harry looks out at the dance floor thoughtfully. “Gee. So that area is just filled with people roller skating, huh?  That’s odd to think about.”

The waiter approaches, quickly shifting both Harry and Roni’s attention.  He informs them that his name is Stanley, goes over a few of the food specials for the evening, and then asks them what they’d like to drink.  Harry orders a lemonade, and then both he and Stanley turn to Roni expectantly.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll take a rum and coke, please.”

If a record-scratch silence was such a thing in these times, it would have happened at that exact moment.  Stanley, the people at the next table over, and even Harry all stare at her as if her order is the most scandalous thing they’ve ever heard.  Roni stares back blankly, trying to gather what on earth the problem could be, before finally looking to Harry for help.

Harry catches on quickly, laughing dryly and leaning across the table to place a hand on Roni’s.  “She’s joking, of course,” he says.  “She’ll just have a coca-cola.  Please.  Thank you so much.”

Stanley lingers a moment, as if processing what just happened, before turning slowly on his heels and making his way to the kitchen.

When Harry is sure the waiter is out of earshot, he leans across the table with a serious look.  “Don’t do that,” he hisses quietly.

“Do what?!” Roni asks incredulously.  “Order a drink?  What, are women not allowed to drink here?”

Harry chuckles.  “Actually no one is.”

“What the fuck?” Roni says, biting her tongue the moment it escapes her lips because she knows she shouldn’t be cursing like that in public.  Not here at least. She glances around to make sure no one heard her, then lowers her voice.  “Why not?”

Harry grins smugly.  “You mean to tell me the prohibition isn’t something significant in the future?  Like it just… ends?”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Oh god,” she says.  “The prohibition.  Forgot about that.”

“Ah.”  Harry nods.  “So you’ve heard of it.”

Roni pouts.  “Yeah, and it sucks.”

“You’re telling me,” Harry says through a laugh.

“I guess just a coke is fine though,”  Roni admits.  “Probably don’t need anything making me more disoriented me more than I already am.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Roni sighs, glancing around the restaurant again in another attempt to take it all in.  When she catches the eye of an older lady a few tables over, she notices the woman is frowning at her, and she shifts in her seat. “Are people staring?  They’re definitely staring.  Did you button me up wrong?”

“I didn’t,” Harry says. “Maybe they’re staring because of how beautiful you look.”

Roni’s cheeks grow hot and she rolls her eyes, but she can’t suppress the smile on her face. “Harry--”

“I’m serious!” he says.  “That dress is divine.  I must say, whoever picked it for you has excellent taste.”

“Hey, I picked it out, too.” Roni sticks her tongue out at Harry.

“Maybe so,” Harry says with a shrug,  “But of the two of us, I’m the one with the fashion sense here.”

Roni opens her mouth to protest, but Harry only rises to his feet and holds his hand out for her. “Anyway,” he says, “care to dance?”

At first Roni feels awkward on the crowded dance floor.  Everyone around her seems so experienced, and there she is stumbling around like she’s never even heard music before in her life.  She accidentally bumps into several people, and Harry always calmly apologizes for her before jumping right into the impromptu dance lesson he’s giving her.  Of course she feels bad, but he’s so encouraging (and went through all the trouble to get them here), so she puts on a brave face and soldiers through it.

By about four songs in, however, Roni’s insecurities wash further and further away with every smile or word of praise Harry gives her, and suddenly it feels like they’re the only two in the entire building.

The familiar opening chords of The Charleston begin booming from the orchestra, and Harry and Roni immediately exchange open-mouthed grins.  “You know this one!” Harry yells over the music, already beginning to tap his feet.

“No I don’t!” Roni giggles, already being swept off her feet by Harry.

Once again they’re laughing like children, stumbling over one another while Harry shouts incoherent commands at her.  

“Remember? Left, kick, left--- Veronica, focus!”

“I can’t! Not with everyone around!”

Roni finally allows her giggles to get the best of her, letting go of Harry and hunching over to clutch her belly.  Harry watches her, an endeared smile on his lips, before reaching to take her hand again. “Veronica--”

“Wait!” Roni stands up straight. “Wait, it’s my turn. Let me show you how it’s done. Ever heard of this one?”

She starts half-jumping, half- running in place and Harry lets out a loud cackle. “What on earth are you doing?”

“It’s called the running man!” Roni calls back.  “All the rage where I come from!”

Harry’s face grows redder by the second from laughing so hard, and he lets out a hacking cough. “Oh my god, you look ridiculous!”

“Yeah? Like that one? How about this one?”  Roni places her hands on either side of her face, framing her head and moving her hands from her cheeks to her chin and top of her head. . “This one is called Vogue-ing.”

Harry wipes at his eyes, clutching his stomach. “Veronica,” he says through a wet laugh, “Please, no more.”

“And here’s a classic!”  Roni goes completely stiff, bending her arms at the elbows and moving robotically. “They call this one the robot!”

“God,” Harry shakes his head, face now beet read from laughing. “You’re so bloody weird.”

“You aren’t gonna try it with me?” Roni asks.  “I try your weird dances with you!”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he knows she’s got a point. “It’s not the same.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Roni calls back. “C’mon, just try the robot one time.”

Harry glances nervously around before deciding to just completely throw caution to the wind and join her.  He goes stiff as well, mimicking her movements in the most forced and uncomfortable looking way.

Now it’s her turn to laugh, and she lets out the most adorable cackle Harry thinks he’s ever heard. “Ha! You’ve got it!”

“Do I look absolutely mental?” Harry asks through a grin.

“Absolutely, babe,” Roni says with a nod.

“Good!” Harry starts moving faster, knowing damn well he isn’t doing this dance correctly at all, until Roni can’t even dance anymore. She’s nearly on the ground with how hard she’s laughing, and both she and Harry completely ignore the dirty looks from everyone around them who’s actually taking their dancing seriously.

Harry is completely out of breath by the end of the song, and he genuinely feels he’s going to be sore tomorrow.  

But if it meant seeing Roni this happy and full of laughter, he’d take her out dancing every single night.

---

“So what was it like?”

Roni turns to Harry.  “What?”

Roni and Harry are walking home side by side, and Roni is carrying her shoes-- even though Harry had informed her several times how filthy the ground was. When they’d finally decided to stop dancing and sit down for dinner, they’d launched immediately into conversation, covering just about any topic under the sun. Harry marvels at how easy it is to talk to Roni, and he reckons he could sit and listen to her talk about absolutely nothing for days on end.

“The moment you traveled back.  I know you said it was a lucid dream of sorts, but what was it really like?  Was it like you were flying?”

“No, not really,” Roni says, and she takes a moment to think of how to explain this to him.  “It was just like walking.  But I couldn’t walk fast enough.  I wasn’t being threatened or anything.  I just knew I had somewhere to go and I didn’t think I’d get there in time.”

“Where were you trying to go?  You’d mentioned something about the 1980s… is that correct?  Something about your mum?”

Roni smiles sadly at him.  “You remember me saying that?”

“‘Course I do.”  Harry notices the sadness of Roni’s features, and he lowers his voice.  “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay,” Roni says wistfully.  “I wanted to go to 1985. That was the year I lost my mom.  In a car accident.”

“Oh, Veronica,” Harry coos. “I’m so sorry.”

“Cars were… well, are a lot different where I come from.  People drive like assholes.  Pardon the language.”  Harry smirks to himself.  Since when does Roni feel the need to apologize for her language?  He doesn’t have time to tease her, however, and he figures now is not the time.  So he lets her continue.

“So mom was driving to work one morning.  And this guy fell asleep at the wheel.  A trucker.  He’d been driving all night.”  Roni seems lost in her own thoughts, and Harry hangs on her every word.  “And it sucks because… it was just like any other day, you know?  We just said a normal goodbye.  She was planning on ordering pizza that night when she got home.   I asked her to take me to the pool, and she couldn’t.  She was working overtime so that she could pay for this stupid class trip for me.”  Roni shakes her head bitterly, and Harry wants to say something, but he decides to let her sort through her own thoughts.

“I just thought that… maybe if I could go back to that day I could stop her, do you know what I mean?  I thought I could maybe warn her not to leave.  She would’ve listened to me.”  Roni chuckles softly to herself.  “I was always good at persuading her.”

They round the corner, beginning their ascent up the steps to Harry’s apartment.  He finally speaks as he fumbles with his keys.  “You know you can’t give up, right?  You’ve proven that time travel is real, now it’s just a matter of perfecting the specifics.”

Roni shrugs as Harry pushes his creaky front door open for her to walk through.  “I suppose,” she says, “I just don’t know if I want to risk going to another unfamiliar time period.  I’m not sure anyone else would be as kind as you.”

Her words tug at Harry’s heart strings as he locks the door behind him.  “Can I say something?”

Roni kicks off her shoes.  “Of course.”

“I’m really glad you showed up here.”  When Roni shoots Harry a look that says “don’t be cheesy,”  he giggles.  “I mean it! You’re somebody that I feel very, very lucky to have met.  You’re an incredible person.”

“Oh stop it.”  Roni and Harry make their way through the living room, while Harry begins unbuttoning his jacket and Roni fumbles to untie the neck-tie that has been itching her skin all night.

“I’m serious,” Harry says.  “You’re intelligent.  And witty.”

Roni smirks at him.  “Alright fine, keep going.”

“And funny,”  Harry adds with a pointed look.  “Gosh, Veronica, no one makes me laugh as hard as you do, you know that?”

“The feeling is mutual, dude.”  Roni frowns down at the knot that she still hasn’t been able to get untied, and Harry keeps talking.

“You keep me on my toes, but in the best way.”  Harry wiggles out of his jacket, placing it neatly over the back of a chair. “I never know what to expect from you.”

“Good,” Roni says, distracted and still scowling at the stubborn knot.  “I want to keep it that way.”

“You’re unlike any woman-- no, any person in general, I have ever met in my life.  And I’ve met a lot of people, you know.  You’re someone special.  I feel like you were meant to come into my life, even if you came from the future.  And--”  Harry trails off when he notices her struggling. “Do you need help with that?”

Roni frowns up at him, finally giving up.  “How tight did you tie this thing?!”

Harry laughs, making his way over to her.  “Alright, c’mere.  Let me see.”

It feels good to be this close to Roni again, and although they’d spent the last roughly three and a half hours dancing closely, this feels so much better.  Harry feels the same nervous energy he’d felt while tying this thing, but somehow he’s more confident about it now, and he doesn’t shy away from standing so close to her.

“You can keep going on about how great I am if you want,” Roni teases.

“Oh can I?” Harry asks.  “Thank you for your blessing, madam.”

“Anytime!”

Harry smiles, working at the knot gently and really searching to find the right words in his mind.  “Suppose everything I’ve been saying is rather sappy, innit?”

“I don’t mind.”

Harry’s heart pounds at her words, although he isn’t exactly nervous.  “Well, may I say something else sappy?”

“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

“Fair.”  Harry smiles.  Admittedly, he’s got the knot figured out and could easily side the tie off with no problem. But he likes having something for his fingers to fidget with, and he definitely  likes having his fingers so near her body.  “On top of everything else I’ve said, you are… undoubtedly… the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

Roni’s mouth falls open so subtly that Harry would have missed it if it wasn’t for the almost inaudible gasp that accompanied the movement.  He doesn’t look at her eyes, he instead focuses on the knot-- which he is now halfway done with.

“Harry.”

“Pardon me if I’m being too forward, Veronica.  I just think it’s high time that I let you know that.  You deserve to be told that every day.”

Harry shakes the knot a bit, effectively loosening it so that it practically slides off.  But he doesn’t let go of the fabric, holding it loosely on either side of her neck.  He swallows and she lets out a shaky breath, eyes darting frantically along his face as if she can’t decide on a place for them to land.  The mood in the room has shifted entirely just from his one confession, because they both know that his words hold so much more depth to them.  He isn’t just complimenting her to fill the silence.  He means it, and he means so much more by it.

“Can I say something as well?”  Roni says quietly, and Harry only nods.  “You’re… the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, Harry.  And I wish… I wish I’d met you sooner.”

“I consider myself incredibly lucky to have met you,” Harry says.  “And I... I don’t know how long you’re going to be here with me for.  But I already wish I had longer with you.  And I wish you were mine.”

Roni licks her lips as their eyes finally meet.  They both wear looks of confusion, a bit of fear, and so much yearning that it would make Roni sick on any other day.  But now she’s here, and she’s feeling something she’s honestly never felt in her life.  She smiles, reaching up slowly to cup his cheek and run her thumb over the spot where his dimple lives.

“I wish that, too,” she says breathlessly.

Finally. Finally it’s the moment they’ve both been waiting for for so long.  Harry tugs lightly on the tie, pulling Roni in so close that their faces are practically touching.  It would be so easy for them to just do it, just tilt their heads the slightest bit and kiss already.  Roni feels jittery and shaky, and Harry reaches up to take the wrist of the hand that cups his face.

They’re so close that Roni can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and she swallows down all of the words that she’s dying to say.  She licks her lips, only briefly giving in to the “what if’s” swimming around in her brain, and she removes her eyes from his swollen pink lips.  She scans the dip of his cupid’s bow, the little mole on the corner of his chin, the point of his nose, and finally his green eyes that match the intensity on his face.  Memories of the image she’d woken up to this morning float back into her mind,-- images of him, naked and swollen and whining-- and this time she lets them linger for a moment.  Enjoying the way the sight had made her feel.  Enjoying the way that that same hand feels now against her wrist.

“Harry,” Roni whispers.

Harry bumps his nose to hers, lips so close that she can practically taste them.  “Yes, love?”

Roni wants to stop herself from saying what she’s about to say.  More than anything she wants to give in to this boy who’s standing so close to her, she wants to fasten their lips together and taste him.  She wants to kiss his neck, and she wants him to kiss hers.  She wants to touch him, lick him, bury him inside of her until they pass out from exhaustion.  And she wants to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.

But instead, she says something she almost instantly regrets.

“I can’t.”

[oliviapcrterarchive]

LOCATION: Some Bar Downtown WITH: @riverkartal

Since their last, unexpected encounter at the coffee shop, Olivia’s been forced to endure a few more ghosts from Romeo’s past, all crawling out from beneath the floorboards of his haunted mansion. Lucky her. It was almost as if the universe had been testing her. Prodding her to see if she could really overcome the heartache she felt or if it was doomed to follow her around forever. The answer, so far? -- was uncertain. Yet either way, Olivia's done everything in her power, to forget about all of it. Whether that meant putting in the extra hours at work, busting her ass in the gym, or straight up drowning out her sorrows in lots and lots of alcohol to distract herself -- she did it. Not enough to make her sloppy, of course, because even in this unsteady state of mind of hers, she had never been one of those girls. But, enough to loosen her up. Or at the very least lower her inhibitions. Those around her never seemed to have any, so why was she the only one still carrying them around?

In an effort to let it all go, without any help from her friends, Olivia had made the bold and conscious decision to attend a bar alone. While yes, she could’ve easily called up Violet, who had become something of a female -- Mr. Miyagi to her, she decided she wanted to shoot her shots along with her cupid arrows, alone. Where the commentary and advice of others didn’t overshadow the own voice inside her head. Even if she might’ve needed them considering -- Olivia had just spent, give or take, the last thirty minutes chatting up a handsome stranger at the bar, only to realize when it came time to leave with him, he was actually married. While that might not have stopped some, this was Olivia. She’d been on the other side of that line, the line where someone you knew, loved, and trusted betrayed you behind your back -- Olivia couldn’t find it in her heart to play along after that fact. And so, she recalled all of Violet’s teachings from the past, few previous nights in an effort to dodge her suitor by momentarily escaping to use the restroom. Guys, unfortunately, were predictable. Especially when they were drunk. The longer they were forced to wait for sexual reprieve, the faster they gave up and moved onto the next willing participant. Which hadn’t been her. By the time, Olivia had returned however, she’d noticed her former company was gone, and to take his place had been a whole, new monster entirely. A flighty and unpredictable being she recognized, she knew, and she’d grown somewhat, slightly apprehensive and fearful of after the last time they spoke. While her instincts screamed at her to run the other way upon seeing him, Olivia’s stupid heart had won out. Besides, she meant what she said the last time the two of them crossed paths. Whether they both liked it or not, Olivia wasn’t going anywhere. So in her mind, had Liv neglected to say hi or strike up a conversation with him first this time, everything she assured him days ago would’ve only just been a lie. Her spiels about being sorry and regretful of the way things ended between them and wanting to fix it, would’ve been systematically debunked as well. And quite truthfully, she couldn’t give River (or Romeo for that matter) the satisfaction of chasing her off again. Even if the latter did, that was neither here nor there right now and it was different because he was complicated. More so than River had been, believe it or not.

Thus, with the appropriate amount of cautious deep breaths aside, Liv approached the familiar male with her head held high. “I’d say great minds think alike but,” Liv stopped briefly by his side to motion to the bar, their surroundings, and then lastly to each other, “--- I’m not so sure either of us would take that as a compliment right now.” Just as Liv had her reasons, she was sure, River would have his own in not wanting to be grouped together with her at the moment. “New hunting grounds, I suppose? If so, I’m afraid there’s only slim pickings tonight.” Whether or not River actually came here alone, Olivia strongly doubted he’d leave that same way. 

[argylemnwrites]

Fight or Flight - Chapter 14: Help

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4100

Rating: R (language, 30 diamond scene)

Summary: About three weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: With my state surging so badly that the CDC had to come up with a new category for coronavirus monitoring, and my hospital group changing policy constantly, even the illusion of an update schedule is pretty much out the window at this point, so thank you to all of you who are still sticking with this series! I saw that in canon, our crew just now decided to go on the run, but my MC and Drake have been on the lam for a while at this point, hahaha, so thanks for going on this wild ride with them!

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Olivia let out a sigh as the privacy divider in her town car finally finished closing, tipping her head back and tugging the pins out of her hair. “God, what a nightmare.”

Liam hummed in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the palace tonight? It might be good optics, keeping you in the thick of things since the social season just started.”

He shook his head as he shifted slightly next to her. “After Hana’s conversation with Kiara and all its revelations, we need to be able to discuss things openly. With everything that has already happened, I don’t trust my assigned quarters at the palace to not be bugged.”

All Olivia could do was let out a little shrug. She knew he had a point, but she was worried about his overall approach here. All the strategizing and discussing in the world wouldn’t matter if he didn’t maintain an image of strength and dependability. Trotting back to the seclusion of Lythikos consistently would absolutely weaken the perception others had of him.

“So, I think we can safely assume that Amalas knows about this alliance between Barthelemy and Auvernal. It would explain why she was so eager to strike a deal with us,” Liam continued, reaching up and loosening his tie as he stretched his neck.

“But why would Aurvernal agree to work with Barthelemy? He wasn’t exactly supportive of them when they were trying to force Drake and Riley to solidify the betrothal. Hell, he used that mess to argue against their suitability to raise Bridget.”

Liam frowned, his eyes dropping to his lap for just a moment. “The latter part of your statement I can see him spinning over the coming months. He can argue that he has met with neighboring leaders and struck more beneficial alliance terms than I was ever able to foster, making him better suited for the role of monarch. With the delay in the start of the social season, he’ll have plenty of time to sell it as believable.”

“We had to push Rashad to delay. Hana told us that we need to make sure-”

“-Kiara represents House Theron, I know. It’s just unfortunate the delay may also be desirable for Barthelemy’s camp as well as ours. It would be nice to catch a break for once.”

“Liam…”

He ignored her attempt at sympathy. “Oh well, that’s just the reality isn’t it? We need to figure out how Auvernal played into Landon’s decision. Have you been able to buy off any of their staff?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not yet. I have a couple of leads on a maid and a driver who might be loyal to you, though.”

“That’s something, I suppose. I guess we should probably try and gain some intelligence about the motives of Bradshaw and Isabella as well, shouldn’t we?” He sounded tired, his hands working to remove his cufflinks.

“Yeah, we definitely need to hit this from multiple angles, find out their goal and what they might have done to sway not only Landon, but Hakim and Adelaide. Barthelemy is absolutely going to challenge Bertrand for control of House Beaumont, so we need to gain at least two of those votes. Counting on keeping the Beaumont vote in our camp is just too… dicey at this point, don’t you think?”

Liam nodded, but didn’t seem to want to say anything, so Olivia just kept going. “Now, I think since it’ll be Kiara voting, and she’s been very willing to divulge things to Hana, that is probably our best bet. And I know I’ve been focusing on getting some dirt on Landon and Emmeline, but maybe Adelaide would be the easier pick up? She’s never had much interest in actual politics, so maybe if we had Maxwell just socialize with her repeatedly at the upcoming events, that might be enough? For whatever reason she’s always loved him.”

She glanced over, surprised to find Liam with his eyes closed, his head tipped back. Had he fallen asleep that quickly?

“Liam?” she hissed out.

“I’m still listening; I promise you I’m not asleep.”

“Do you have anything to add?”

He shook his head against the back of the seat without opening his eyes. “No, you seem to have things under control.”

“But, I was-”

“-I trust you, Olivia.”

His words should have been affirming and confidence boosting, but instead all she felt was fear. He should be more invested than this. He needed to be more invested than this. And honestly, she was sure he knew that fact. He would go through the motions of strategizing with her on a regular basis. But he always faded quickly, becoming distracted or introspective. He was ruminating instead of focusing and channeling that hurt and pain into something productive. 

But that wasn’t going to stop tonight. It was very late, and the drive back to Lythikos was a long one. So, Olivia just let him rest, pulling out her burner phone and scanning for any news bulletins about the Walkers being found in Athens, letting out a small sigh of relief when she found none. It looked like Leo and Riley had managed to pull it off. Combine that with Hana’s intel, and she knew the night had been more successful than not. She just needed Liam to start to see things that way. Otherwise, the upcoming months were going to be even bleaker than anticipated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riley kept her head down as she shuffled past a man in the hallway. With two large duffels, it was a bit awkward, and she didn't want the man to remember anything about her other than the fact that it was a bit of a tight fit with all her luggage.

Once he was out of sight, she unlocked the door to their hotel room, opening it as narrowly as possible to slide into the room. She had barely closed and locked the door when she felt a pair of familiar strong arms engulfing her. She dropped the duffel bags to the ground and spun in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his back.

"You're back," Drake murmured into her hair. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his whole body practically trembling. "You were late, and I thought…"

"Leo was almost an hour late," she said, her voice somewhat muffled by his chest because of how closely he was holding her. "I wanted to text you, but-"

"No, you made the right call." They had decided early on to avoid using their new phones to contact each other if at all possible. That way, if one of them got picked up and taken into custody, the other wouldn't be instantly traceable. It meant a lot of anxiety and fear when they weren't together, though. "I just… I… I was worried that…" Drake kept trailing off, almost as if he was unable to say his fears out loud.

"I know, Drake. I know. But it's okay. It all went okay." She slid her hands up, tracing between his shoulder blades, running her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe both him and herself. To call tonight stressful was a mad understatement.

“Leo had our stuff?”

She nodded against his chest. “In his hotel room. I obviously didn’t take the time to dig through it all, but I saw toys, clothing, documents, money.”

Drake ran his hands through her hair, then loosened his hold on her enough to lean back and look her in the eyes. “Did anyone… were you...”

“I don’t think anyone noticed me, Drake.”

He let out a shuddering breath, and then he was kissing her. Not some gentle, tender peck, but hard and deep. Like he used to kiss her when they were alone. Before she turned their lives upside down.

She missed this. She knew it was stupid. They were wanted fugitives and barely getting by in a foreign country. They were hungry and stressed and sleep-deprived. On top of that, they shared one room with their soon-to-be 11 month old daughter, so they had no privacy. Their sex life was far from their most pressing concern.

But… she still missed it, that sense of shared connection and intimacy, and that encompassed more than just the sex. She honestly felt like his teammate or coworker more than his wife far too often. They just spent so much time on the practical, discussing next steps, trying to arrange logistics. Moments of shared laughter and warmth were few and far between these days. And sure, they didn't really have much to laugh about, but it was still a loss.

When she’d sat on his lap yesterday after dyeing her hair, it almost felt like a sliver of their old life and dynamic was back. She’d teased him, he’d held her close. But moments like that were just not the norm for them anymore. Most of the time, even any physical affection was more focused on comfort in light of something negative. Holding hands, hugs, that sort of thing seemed to only happen when their world felt like it was crumbling around them. It’s like they shared nothing but worry and fear most of the time.

There was also the fact that Drake hadn't opened up to her about his own emotions. She knew him. She knew that his fractured relationship with Liam must be weighing on him, that he must feel mad guilty about so many things. But he wasn't telling her anything. He hadn't kept things from her like this in years, and it honestly scared the shit out of her. At first, she thought he was just trying to shield her from his own pain. She knew that her initial panic had probably sent him into hyper-protective mode. But that was weeks ago. She was pretty sure she was holding it together better now. At the very least, she didn't think she was a walking mess anymore.

But Drake was definitely still keeping everything bottled up, and she had to wonder if that was in part because he didn't trust her. Whether it was because her initial panic had meant that she had not considered him enough or because he resented her decision to take Bridget out of Cordonia and away from their entire support system or because he couldn't help but see her as the reason he was named a traitor she had no idea. And maybe he was still just trying to shield her from his own worries and anxieties, but the fear was there that in her efforts to protect her kid, she was slowly losing her husband.

While Drake was off busting his ass to keep their family afloat, she'd had a lot of time to think, and she knew that wasn't helpful. When Bridget was awake, playing with her kept her mind off of those awful thoughts, but they kept creeping back in when she napped and slept. There was only so long that playing Dopey Cat could provide a distraction, after all. So instead she wondered endlessly if she had only been able to keep Bridget by her side at the cost of the foundation of her marriage.

For so many years, those fears of never mattering enough to someone else, of always ending up alone in the end had led her to keep relationships superficial. She’d avoided vulnerability, and therefore pain, at all costs. But then she came to Cordonia, and she had Drake, Hana, Maxwell, and Liam. She’d come to trust and feel and it was beyond anything younger her could have ever dreamed up. But now she’d ruined things with Liam, was disconnected from Hana and Maxwell, and it seemed all too likely she’d damaged things with Drake, too. All those people, who actually cared about her. She’d made a mess of the best parts of her life.

And maybe she was overreacting. Drake still clearly loved and cared about her. Worried about her constantly, in all honesty. But she also worried that he was gradually pulling away from her, that some day would creep up on them where all they would share would be concern for Bridget. But tonight, after all the stress and anxiety and fears of the evening, he was kissing her like he wanted her, like he loved her, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

She let out a pathetically needy moan, the sort of noise that would usually draw a smirk and some teasing from Drake. But tonight, he didn’t. Instead, he just surged forward with a groan of his own, driving her back into the wall and hooking his hands around her thighs, hoisting her up onto his waist before she could even process what was going on.

Riley clawed her fingers into his shoulders, dropping her head back against the wall as he moved his lips across her jaw. She began rocking her hips against him, tilting her head to the side as he worked his way down her neck, biting down lightly as he went. She tugged at his t-shirt, and after a few moments, he finally got the hint, sliding his hands out from under her thighs, letting her drop to the floor as he pulled off his shirt.

Deep down, Riley knew they had a lot they still needed to talk about and that doing this wasn’t going to fix the ache that had been growing in her heart, day by day. But she also knew that after weeks of stress and the horrible possibilities about tonight that had been running through both their minds, maybe this was just something they really needed. So she scrambled to tug off her shirt and jeans, kicking her sandals somewhere towards the door as Drake unbuckled his pants, and in almost no time they were both adding their underwear to the pile of clothing on the floor.

They were back on each other in an instant, hands grabbing and stroking, mouths everywhere. Riley felt her feet leaving the floor, so she wrapped her legs around Drake’s waist as he held her under her thighs, slamming her back against the wall. And then he was sinking into her, dropping his head to her shoulder to muffle the groan he let out as he did so.

It was all quick and frantic, both of them thrusting against each other wildly. She could sense that Drake was just as desperate as her. Desperate to feel something besides anxiety and guilt and pain. She knew she was going to have bruises from his fingers with how tightly he was clutching her thighs, but she didn’t care. Hell, she wondered how badly she was scratching his back. None of that mattered.

She hissed out his name as his lips latched back onto her neck. She knew this was going to be quick, so as she slid one hand up to his neck, tugging on his hair, she also dropped her other hand down between them, letting her fingers trace circles right above where they were joined. It didn't take long before she felt a warmth spreading out, down her legs and up her back, and then she was gone. Drake must have felt her climax, because he muttered "Fuck" into the skin of her neck, only driving into her a couple more times before she felt him spilling inside her. He slumped against the wall, his weight the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor.

After a few moments, Drake let out a sigh, placing his hands back on her thighs and easing her down as he took a step back. “You okay?” he asked, his head slightly downturned.

Riley closed the newly-created gap between them, stepping forward and sliding a hand up to his cheek. “Drake, I’m fine. Are… are you okay?”

He nodded, tugging her into a gentle hug. “I just… I think I…”

“It’s okay, Drake. I get it.” She didn’t like that he still apparently couldn’t talk to her, but if he’d needed a minute of physical comfort and reprieve, well that was pretty fucking understandable. So she didn’t push him, just joined him in getting cleaned up and dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. While Drake washed the day’s clothes in the bathroom, she checked on Bridget, passed out in the travel crib Drake had picked up a few weeks back. They hadn’t used it to this point, and Riley wondered why Drake had dug it out of the car tonight. It had been safely tucked away with the tent, sleeping bags, and ground pad since he bought it.

“I thought we should probably start trying to get her used to it.” Drake’s voice cut through the room, startling Riley and answering the question she never got a chance to ask. “We are looking at months of being on the run. We need to start… I don’t know, making things… stable for her, I guess.”

“Makes sense,” said Riley, giving her daughter one last look before turning around to face Drake. “How did she handle bedtime?”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I think she was scared or upset because you weren’t here. She was basically inconsolable. I contemplated taking her on a drive just to calm her down. I kind of figured the night couldn’t get any worse, so I might as well try the crib. She screamed for about an hour before she wore herself out.”

Riley walked over and wrapped her arms around Drake. He struggled more with the sleep training than she did, even if he talked a way bigger game about letting Bridget “cry it out” in the light of day. “Well, she’s asleep now at least.”

Drake nodded, running a hand up and down her back. “You ready to go through the bags?”

She nodded and gave him a little smile, sitting down on the end of the bed as Drake grabbed the duffels and brought them over. They slowly worked their way through them, item by item. Hana had included so many useful things, from the practical, like clothes appropriate for a variety of types of weather and spare contact lenses and Riley’s glasses, to the unessential but truly missed, like Bridget’s stuffed corgi and Riley’s good hair brush. There was a lot of money in there, too. Thousands of Euros, which probably wouldn’t be enough to get them all the way until January, but at least made their situation a lot less dire. Their passports and birth certificates were tucked in there as well. For the first time, it felt like they might have some options when it came to their next steps. 

After twenty minutes or so of sorting and unpacking, they reached the bottom of the bags. There were a handful of framed photos. Riley hadn’t mentioned any pictures as being something they wanted, so this must have been Hana’s idea. There were a couple that had been displayed in their bedroom and den. A candid Maxwell took on their wedding reception, Drake sitting down as Riley stood behind him, her arms looped over his shoulders, both of them looking at each other with stupid, cheesy grins on their faces. The two of them with Savannah, Bertrand, and Bartie taken down in Texas, the day before the wedding. A photo of the three of them that Hana had taken in the privacy of their home the day after the anointing with them in casual clothing, just curled up on the couch holding Bridget, a stark contrast from the pomp of the formal portrait for the history books and press release the day before. There were a couple of new ones, too. The corgis snuggled together on their massive cushion in the den. Hana and Maxwell grinning with arms thrown over each other's shoulders, clearly a selfie taken by Maxwell at a formal event. Liam and Olivia sitting on a couch at what appeared to be the Lythikos keep, Olivia with an eyebrow raised, Liam with a hollow-looking smile.

Riley glanced over at Drake, unsure how these photos would affect him. He just swallowed roughly before placing the stack of photos he was holding on the bed next to him. Riley leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. They were both silent for a few moments until Drake finally spoke.

“Was that everything?”

Riley shook her head. “No, there’s a letter. At least I assume that’s what it is. It’s an envelope with Hana’s writing.”

Drake didn’t say anything, so after a few seconds, Riley leaned forward, grabbing the envelope with “Riley & Drake” looped in beautiful cursive sitting at the bottom of one of the duffels. She slid her finger under the flap and pulled out a sheet of stationary with delicate pink and cream flowers in the corners. She held it between them so that Drake could read it at the same time.

Riley and Drake,

I hope that you and Bridget are all doing well and in as good of spirits as the circumstances will allow. I can only imagine how incredibly difficult this must be for you. 

In these bags, I’ve included the items you mentioned as well as a few more toys for Bridget and pieces of clothing that I thought would be suitable for when the weather gets colder. I know it isn’t much, but hopefully this will make your lives just a little more comfortable.

I also sent some pictures I thought you might like to have, both old and new. Whenever things get tough, just remember that you have people who love you and want the best for you and your family.

While this is probably the furthest thing from your mind, I want to assure you that I am not taking my position as Duchess of Valtoria lightly. I am setting up citizen meetings for the upcoming weeks. Judging by the protests outside of the estate, you have a lot of support still here, and when this is all resolved, I will step down if you would like to rightfully reclaim your titles.

I love and miss you both, and tell Bridget that Aunt Hana misses her, too. Maxwell said I should include paw prints from Anderson, Vera, Ellis, and Ilsa, but for the sake of the staff who would need to clean up that mess, I will just settle on saying they clearly miss you as well.

Keep safe, Hana

Riley twisted to look at Drake. She knew he would already be done since he was a faster reader than her. His face was very still as he stared over at Bridget’s crib. 

“Drake?”

He jerked his head over to look at her, giving her a very empty smile as he did so. “Your best friend is really something, huh?”

She frowned, trying to suss out how much she should read into that statement, but he kept his expression blank. When it became clear he wasn’t going to elaborate more, she settled on a light response, knowing he probably didn’t want to delve into things too deeply at this point. “She really is. But her assumption that we would be at all worried about our former titles is adorably naive.”

Drake let out a little snort of a chuckle, so Riley kept going. “Can you imagine us just rolling back to Valtoria after all of this and challenging Hana for the title?”

His smile became a little more genuine at that. “Well, being out of touch with reality is a common trait amongst the nobility. Maybe it would just be us finally catching up with the rest of them.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Come on, let’s pack this stuff up and get some sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan, Walker.”

Riley stood up and offered a hand to Drake, tugging him to his feet as well. There was still a lot they needed to sort through and take care of, both practically and emotionally. She knew that. Even with everything given to them tonight, the months ahead were hardly going to be a cake walk, and she knew she would have to get Drake talking at some point. But for the first time in weeks, she felt true hope. Hope that they could make this work, that they weren’t two seconds away from failing their daughter and each other, that they were moving forward. And for tonight, that felt like enough.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff @sarahx206

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake

FoF: @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby​

[tinyboxxtink]

“Helpless” *Part 7*

WHOOOOOO buddies, this might be my favorite chapter so far. You’ll see why.... 

Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 8

Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

----

Olivia, Fin, Carisi and the other blonde detective, Rollins you thought-- came bursting into the kitchen at the noise, only to find you and Rafael standing there like kids with their hands in a cookie jar.

“We uh-- we thought…” Carisi stammered.

“Sorry, we’ll leave ya’ll to it. We’re gonna take off,” Amanda waved goodbye, shoving the rest of them out the door.

“Right...have a nice evening!” you called after them in a cheery voice, but slapped your hands over your face as soon as they were gone. 

“Christ...great, now they’ll be talking too,” you rolled your eyes.

“They’re not high school girls, they don’t gossip,” he scoffed.

“Uh huh...like we’re not high schoolers making out in the back room?”

“Two kisses hardly count as ‘making out’, carino,” He smiled, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Carino means…” 

“Sweetie or honey, I know. Arianna speaks spanish. She calls you abogado,” 

“...You know spanish? Then why did you look at me weird when I called you camarera?” 

“She didn’t teach me, like a Rosetta Stone or something. She just says things randomly in spanish and tells me what they mean,” you explained, suddenly wondering how you got into this conversation.

“I see…”

“Okay this conversation has veered off into some weird little tangent,” 

“I agree, enough talking,” Rafael grinned devilishly, wrapping his arms around you again.

“DOWN, counselor,” you pushed his arms back to his sides. 

“You see this?” you gestured to the mess in front of you. “I gotta remake all of this before I can leave, and it takes FOREVER,”

“Well not if I help,” 

“Yeah OKAY, a big fancy lawyer is gonna sit here and do prep work,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing the onions and tomatoes to slice. Rafael grabbed some knives on a nearby shelf and handed you one.

“I cook, you know,” he took an onion and started chopping.

“Do you? Then why are you in here all the time?”  you raised an eyebrow while grabbing a tomato. 

“It’s not fun cooking for one person,” he replied, not looking up from the board.

“You don’t live with anyone?” The question made Rafael stop chopping and look at you.

“If I had a significant other, do you really think I would be here kissing you? Even pursuing you?” He gave you a look.

“Pursuing me….” you gave him a tongued smile. “I like that,”

“Whatever…” he shook his head with a smile. “The answer is NO; I’m a thirty something something with a very nice job, I live alone,” 

“Mmmmm I’m willing to bet you’re more of a forty something something, but I get it,” You smirked. “That must be nice, I’ve never lived alone,” 

“It gets lonely,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah I’m sure, in a big penthouse apartment and your many books of mahogany,” 

“...Really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, I assume rich people have a lot of books, and I’m pretty sure mahogany is fancy…” You blushed, to which Rafael laughed. A real laugh; the crinkles of his eyes and his dimples as big as they were, you hadn’t seen him laugh like that up close before. It was intoxicating. 

“...What? Did I get an onion on my face?” Rafael knocked you from your daze; shit were you staring at him?!

“Wha-- no, nothing. I’m just tired,” you played it off, waving your hands dismissively. 

“Well I know you have the good stuff in here,” He walked away from the cutting board and over to your espresso machine, turning it on.

“Oh come on man, now I have to re-clean that!” You groaned. 

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” Rafael kissed your cheek as he made cappuccinos for the two of you.

---

About an hour had passed, and you two were finally done re-prepping all the prep work. Rafael had even helped you reclean the espresso machine. You did last minute checks and went outside, where Rafael followed. You locked the front doors and picked up your phone to look at it.

“SHIT, 1:45?! God, Ari must be freaking out,” you frantically looked through your history to make sure she hadn’t tried to call or text. She hadn’t. 

“Well, good night counselor,” You nodded, starting to walk to the subway; Rafael grabbed your hand.

“Oh no no no, I’m not letting you walk home by yourself at 2 am in the middle of New York City,” 

“It’s 1:45, and I’m a big girl. Trust me, I could knife a guy if I had to,” you protested.

“ ….‘knife a guy’,” he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“I could! 

“Alright then humor me,” He pulled you around the corner where a town car was waiting.

“How did you--??”

“Uber never sleeps,” he opened the door for you and you slid in the backseat, Rafael slid in next to you.

“So do I just tell him my address or….?”

“I mean, unless you wanna go to mine,” he grinned devilishly again, that sparkle of arousal dancing in his eyes. It was very tempting.

“I….no I can’t, Ari will know,” you looked down, feeling stupid. It was as if Arianna was your mommy and you were out past curfew. Not like the two grown women equals you should be.

You gave the driver your address and he began driving. You felt Rafael put an arm around your shoulder, and for once you let yourself relax into him. You had literally never felt safer in your life, just being curled up next to him. So safe, so warm, so…

“...Y/N?” 

Rafael’s voice awakened you from the nap you apparently had just taken in his arms. 

“Oh...Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I must’ve fallen asleep,” You apologized, fixing his mussed dress shirt where you had been laying on it. There was even the tiniest bit of drool on it; god how embarrassing. 

“You most certainly did, you were even snoring a bit,” He chuckled at the horrified look on your face. “What? It was cute,” 

“God…” You leapt out of the car, trying to get your keys out as fast as you could to get away from this nightmare. 

“Hey, wait up!” Rafael got out of the car and followed you to the door of your building. 

“Okay, I made it home safe. You did your duty, counselor,” you saluted him, to which he took your “saluting” hand in his.

“That’s it? I spent hours chopping up things and cleaning, and all I get is  ‘job well done’?” 

“Well...what else do you want, a medal?” you teased him.

“How about…” He pulled you in for another kiss; and this time, you let him. 

The kiss lasted for what seemed like forever. The chilly New York air blew against your cheap plastic jacket and you shivered. Rafael took his huge pea coat and wrapped it around the two of you while you kissed, making it that more romantic.

Even after you broke apart, your arms were wrapped around his waist inside the jacket, your head pressed against his chest as he kissed your forehead and just held you. You didn’t want to leave him there, you knew for sure you had never felt this safe. With anyone. Not even Arianna. GOD, Arianna. Now you really didn’t want to leave him because you knew you couldn’t see him again; not like this.

Rafael felt something warm against his chest, and he pulled you back a bit from him, only to see you were crying.

“Ay carino...don’t cry, what’s wrong?”

“This is it,” you sniffled. “This is where this ends, and I don’t want it to,” 

Rafael sighed and put his hands on your shoulders, making you look at him. “Hey...this ends, when you say it ends. Not me, not Arianna, you,” 

“Rafael I told you I--” You started, but he put a finger to your lips.

“I told you, I’m not scared of Arianna. I lo--care about you, a lot,” He bit his lip when he stumbled over his words. A micro expression trying to hide the words he really wanted to say-- but you knew that already.

Even though it made zero sense of course, how could two people possibly be in love after a few days. Not even. Maybe your bullshit about a ‘connection’ wasn’t bullshit….not that it mattered anyway because this was never going to work out. Arianna would never let it happen. 

But for some bizarre reason, in that chilly doorway at 2 am, wrapped in Rafael’s coat-- you believed him. You believed that somehow, he was going to make this better. He was going to make it okay. And you were actually going to let him.

“...Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay? Really? Okay? Just like that? I thought I’d have to get on my knees and beg,”

“Do you want me to change my mind or do you wanna kiss me again?”

“Kiss please,” he smiled, pulling you even closer into his coat as he kissed you far deeper this time. He had to make this okay, he had to do something. He just had to. You never wanted to give this feeling up. 

“Give me your phone,” you ordered him this time, and he obliged. You programmed your number and handed it back to him.

“There. Now I can’t ‘ghost’ you,” 

“You can try, I’ll just blow up your phone with links of cute cat videos or something,” he grinned, kissing you one more time.

“Okay, seriously I gotta go upstairs. Arianna’s gonna wake up and see I’m not home,” 

“...Until we meet again then,” he kissed your hand and gave you the biggest smile you had ever seen on a human being. 

You walked inside your building and watched him until he got back into the town car and drove off into the night. Then you took the stairs up to your apartment, practically floating all the way there.

---

When you unlocked the front door to your apartment, you tried tiptoeing through your living room. However, as you reached the two doorways of your rooms, you noticed Arianna’s light was still on. You debated heavily whether or not to check on her, she was never up this late. 

Maybe something had happened? Maybe she was worried about you? 

You peeked open her door, only to see ALL of her stuff strewn about her room in boxes, while she was throwing clothes into a suitcase.

“Oh good! You’re home,” She pulled bras out of her top drawer.

“W-What is all this--” your eyes darted around the room.

“Did you have a nice time with the abogado?” her question made your blood freeze.

“What? Wha--Ari, I told you--” your voice quavered.

“Yeah I know what you told me, and I also know that look of yours,” she laughed and shook her head.

“What look?”

“The same look you had for Bobby DiMucci in 10th grade,” She smirked. “The ‘oh my god I wanna marry you and have all the babies’, look,” she batted her eyes.

“There’s...that’s not--” you scoffed with a laugh.

“But that’s cool! I hope you guys had a very nice time, you certainly seemed to have a very nice goodbye,” She gestured downstairs. FUCK you knew it, she would be watching. 

“Y-You do…?”

“I do! Because we’re leaving,” Arianna grabbed more boxes out of her closet and tossed them at you.

“Wha--we’re-- NO, we’re not,” Your mind started running a million miles a minute, your body began to panic.

“YES, we are,” she stopped packing and walked up to you.

“Whether or not you and the ADA keep playing kissy face, he knows about us. And if he doesn’t take you down, he’s gonna take me down. And I can’t have that,” She explained as she continued packing.

“And I know you don’t wanna choose between us, so I’m choosing for you,” She circled the room, pulling stuff out from under her bed.

“We’re leaving, and you’re never gonna see him again,” She grabbed some of the boxes on her bed and tossed them towards you.

Your blood was boiling, your whole body was shaking. She controlled EVERYTHING in your life, down to what kind of soda you drank, or what TV show you watched. She wasn’t going to control this, she wasn’t going to take him away from you.

“I...Ari, NO,” you softly spoke.

“....Excuse me?”

“I’m not going with you,” you said louder, glaring at her.

 “If--If you wanna run because you think that Rafael is gonna ‘take you down’, which he ISN’T,”  “Then fine. I won’t tell him or anyone where you went. But I’m not going,” 

“God….baby girl,” Arianna dropped the boxes and made a sad pouting face, as if she was feeling bad for you; But then she went for something behind her bed. All of a sudden she was pulling out a gun, and holding it on you.

“Don’t make me do this,” 

“What the FUCK, Arianna? Why do you have a GUN?” You were freaking out, you didn’t know if you should run or throw something or shit your pants.

“Oh for Fuck’s sake Y/N we lived in a CAR, in NEW YORK CITY. Why wouldn’t I have a gun?!” she scoffed, moving closer to you.

“Okay but--but put it down, okay? Please?” You were now crying, basically begging for your life. How did you go from SO safe to now begging for your life?!

“I can’t do that, sweetie. Not until you agree to leave with me. Tonight,” She had tears in her own eyes, you knew she didn’t want to hurt you. She was scared. You knew she would never hurt you. 

“....Please, Arianna. Please don’t do this…” You pleaded through tears, very slowly reaching for the gun.

“YOU’RE DOING IT! YOU are doing this to us!” she screamed, waving the gun in your face. 

“I guess it is sort of my fault, I told you his name. I pushed you towards him. I just didn’t think he’d actually like you back,” she continued in a normal voice.

“Wow, just...wow,” you huffed.

“Not that you’re not wonderful, baby girl. Just...you know, not in his league,” 

“See but you were wrong, Ari. He does like me. No no no, He LOVES me, and I love him,” You were getting bolder now, how dare she start shitting on you and Rafael. That’s all she had done from the start, was tear apart and tarnish what you had. 

“Pffftttt, okay. After what, a few conversations and a few tongues down your throat? Gimme a friggin BREAK,” she scoffed, the gun still pointed at you. 

“Fuck you, it’s real.” You spat, unable to take the bullshit from her anymore. Arianna stared at you in shock; you had NEVER spoken to her like that.

 “And-And And if you DON’T want him coming after us, then this is the stupidest move you could make. Because he’ll fight for me Arianna, he’ll fight for me and he will WIN,” Tears still in your voice, but anger powered over them.

“God, look at you! Look at what he’s DONE to you. To us. It’s always been US, Y/N. Me and you, Bert and Ernie! Thelma And Louise! Bonnie And Clyde!” She gestured between the two of you wildly.

“NO, it’s been you using me,” you scoffed.

“Is that what he said?” She turned the gun sideways.

“It’s the truth!” you argued.

“NO IT’S NOT, and once we get out of here, you’ll forget about him. I promise, and then we can be happy again. Okay?” She had a psychotic smile, pulling you in for a hug, the gun pressed against your back. You had to get out of here.

“...Okay, Ari,” you finally gave in, throwing your hands up in defeat. You looked up at her with the saddest eyes you could muster, trying to convince her she had you beaten down once again. She hugged you again, and let you go. But she held tight to the gun. 

“I’ll go pack,” you grabbed some boxes and took them into your room. As soon as you heard Arianna resume packing, you ducked beside your bed and dialed Rafael’s number.

“Please pick up, please please please….”