#and then talk about hitting her dog and 'frying' him on the remote for 'being an ass' and 'actung like he doesnt know what to do'

[healingheartdogs]

If a dog is not able to understand something you are teaching them (whether it's because you're moving too fast, your communication needs works, you aren't breaking what you're teaching down enough, whatever) and you correct them for making a mistake during that learning process they are also not going to understand why they are being corrected. You will only be adding stress to an already stressful situation.

[arysafics]

The One Good Thing

Summary:  Clarke's roommate Echo is the worst, so Clarke expects her boyfriend to be the worst too. Except he's really not.

Rated G, ~3,700 words

In hindsight, Clarke probably should have vetted her new housemate more thoroughly. At the time she was kind of desperate. Raven had given her plenty of notice that she was moving out to live with her boyfriend, and Clarke had tried to find someone, for weeks, but the people she liked kept bailing on her. She couldn’t afford to not have a housemate, so when Roan said his cousin was looking for somewhere, two days before the next month’s rent was due, Clarke didn’t bother asking any questions other than, “When can she move in?”

She’s seriously regretting that decision now. It’s not that Echo is a bad housemate. It’s that she’s the worst housemate on the planet. After only two weeks of living with her, Clarke is already going crazy.

The list of things Clarke hates about Echo is endless. For starters, she’s messy. And not the kind of messy where she kicks her shoes off by the door and leaves them there, or lets her clean washing sit on the floor of her room instead of putting it away. No, Echo’s shit is everywhere. Clarke goes to sit on the couch, only to find Echo’s used tissues between the couch cushions. Echo’s dishes are piled up by the sink, the oldest ones from over a week ago. They’re starting to grow mould.

Abby keeps telling Clarke to just do the dishes herself, but Clarke thinks that sets a precedent that she’ll just do Echo’s dishes for her all the time. Her stubbornness outweighs her need for things to be clean.

Clarke had tried to work out a cleaning schedule when Echo first moved in, because she’s had housemates before who just forget that the last time the toilet was cleaned was four months ago. But Echo had just said, “Can you bother me with that later?” When Clarke had tried to bring it up later, Echo had snapped at her, saying she’ll “clean when she feels like it.”

But the lack of cleanliness is just the tip of the iceberg. Echo fancies herself an amateur DJ, and is constantly playing really shit music from her expensive speakers at full volume. Echo calls it “house music” but Clarke doesn’t think it belongs in a house at all, let alone her house. She has a constant headache from listening to the bass thudding through the walls all day and night. It doesn’t matter how many times she asks Echo to turn it down, the next day it’s back, just as loud. Clarke wants to scream.

Then there was the time Echo had a party without telling Clarke first. Not that she needs permission per se, after all, she lives here too. But a heads up would have been nice. Clarke would have found somewhere else to go for the night if she’d known she would have to listen to Echo’s obnoxious friends all night. The next morning there was vomit on the bathroom floor. Which Clarke had to clean up, obviously.

Two days later, Clarke had Raven over, and while they were watching How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, Echo came out of her room to tell them to “please keep it down, and inform me next time you’re going to have friends over.”

Clarke doesn’t think she’s had one single pleasant interaction with Echo. Echo acts like Clarke’s entire existence is an inconvenience to her, as if Clarke wasn’t doing her a huge favour by giving her a place to live. Clarke has taken to just avoiding Echo wherever possible.

Which means getting up before 9am on a Sunday, because even though Echo usually sleeps until after ten, Clarke is not willing to risk running into her in the kitchen. Except when Clarke walks into the kitchen, still half asleep, there’s already someone in there. Only it’s not Echo. It’s a man. A shirtless man. And he’s… doing the dishes?

“Who the hell are you?” Clarke asks. “And what are you doing in my kitchen?”

He turns, pulling his hands from the sink, and Clarke feels like she’s been hit with a steamroller. He’s hot. Like really hot. Stomach churning hot. So hot she actually feels winded for a moment.

“Oh, hey,” he smiles, and then suddenly he’s even hotter, and Clarke has never been so aware of her frumpy pyjamas and messy hair. She can feel her neck burning, and she hopes her face isn’t as red as it feels. “I’m Bellamy. Echo’s, uh… friend. And I’m doing dishes. Clearly.”

“Why?” It’s the only thing she can think to say. She says it with a scowl on her face, because even though he’s doing a nice thing, if he’s “friends” with Echo, he must be terrible as well. So she hates him on principle.

“I was bored. Echo’s still asleep. Do you want me to stop?”

Clarke purses her lips. “I don’t care what you do,” she says haughtily, then walks over to the coffee machine. That’s the one good thing about Echo, she brought her fancy coffee maker with her. If Echo ever leaves, Clarke is going to figure out a way she can keep it.

“Have I done something to offend you, princess?” Bellamy asks.

“What?” she snaps, turning back to face him. Where does he get off, calling her princess? He nods to her ratty pink pyjama top. It says princess across the front of it in glittery cursive. Clarke feels her face heating up again. Oh. “My mom bought it for me,” she mutters. She instantly regrets it, seeing the corners of Bellamy’s mouth turn up, clearly amused by her. She scowls. She so doesn’t need some hot guy making fun of her eight thirty in the morning when all she wants is a coffee. She decides she’s going to go out and buy one instead. Hopefully by the time she gets back he’ll be gone.

“Just finish doing your girlfriend’s dishes,” Clarke snaps. She stalks out of the room before he can respond, but she swears she hears him laughing at her as she goes.

  Clarke doesn’t expect to see Echo’s “friend” again, but a week later, she gets home from dinner with her mom, only to find Bellamy sprawled across the couch, taking up the whole thing, watching what looks to be Futurama of all things.

“What are you doing here?” Clarke asks him. He looks up and grins at her. Stupid perfect smile. His eyes go all crinkly in the corners. Clarke hates it. Just like she hates all those stupid freckles on his face, and the dimple in his chin, and the little scar above his lip.

“Hey, princess,” he greets her. Clarke rolls her eyes. It doesn’t mean anything that her stomach swoops when he calls her that. He’s just doing it to annoy her. “I’m watching TV.”

“This show is so dumb.”

“Sorry?”

“Are you going to shove over so I can sit down or what?” Clarke says. Bellamy sits up and scoots over. Clarke sits on the couch, as far away from him as possible.

“You really don’t like me, do you?”

“Not really, no.”

“Ouch.”

“Well, you asked.”

“Can I ask why you don’t like me?” He’s still smiling, like he just thinks she’s hilarious. He doesn’t take her seriously at all.

“Well, you are dating Echo. And she’s the worst.”

“Dating is a strong word.”

“Are you not here to take her on a date?”

Bellamy shrugs. “We’re going to a party. You can come if you want.”

Clarke snorts. “No thanks. I’d rather die than go anywhere with Echo.”

“But you live with her.”

“Unfortunately.”

Bellamy laughs at that, and butterflies fill Clarke’s stomach at the sound. She ignores them. She’s not going to develop a crush on her roommate’s boyfriend, no matter how nice his laugh is.

“You might like me if you got to know me, princess,” Bellamy says.

“Can you stop calling me that?” Clarke huffs. “I have a name.”

“Which you never told me.”

Clarke stares at him. “You could’ve asked Echo.”

“Echo and I don’t really talk,” he smirks.

“You could’ve asked me.”

“Seemed weird. Like I should already know.”

“What, like we’ve met before in another life or something?”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. “Do you think we’ve met in another life?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Clarke says quickly.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Are you going to tell me your name? Or do you secretly like being called princess?”

“Clarke.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy repeats. Clarke swears she’s never heard her name said quite like that before. Like he’s tasting every letter on his tongue.  It makes her blush, how intimate it feels to have him say her name. She almost wishes she never told him at all.

Clarke turns her attention back to the TV. “Have you watched the episode with the dog yet?”

“I can’t watch that episode again. It made me cry the first time.”

“Good call. What about the one where Fry trades hands with the robot devil?”

“You want me to put it on?”

“I mean,” Clarke shrugs. “Whatever.” She pretends she doesn’t notice Bellamy smirking at her. He doesn’t get a chance to change the episode before Echo struts into the room.

“Are you ready?” she asks Bellamy, totally ignoring Clarke’s existence, as per usual. She’s dressed in tight leather pants and a crop top, which she assumes Bellamy will be getting her out of later. For some reason, Clarke feels a twinge of annoyance at the thought of it. “I still have to buy booze on the way.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy says, getting up from the couch and handing Clarke the remote. “Don’t watch it without me,” he says.

“Okay,” Clarke agrees. Bellamy gives her a smile.

“See you later, Clarke.”

  Clarke doesn’t hear them get in that night, but when she gets up in the morning, Bellamy is there again, eating toast at the dining table. Clarke makes herself a coffee and sits down opposite him.

“Good morning, Clarke,” he smiles. He always looks so goddamn happy to see her.

“How was the party?” she asks.

“It was fine,” Bellamy shrugs. “Echo’s friends kind of scare me though.”

“Right?”

“One of them was carrying a knife. Who does that?”

“Yikes,” Clarke laughs. “I’m glad you didn’t get stabbed.”

“Oh yeah?” Bellamy says, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I mean, I don’t want anyone to get stabbed,” Clarke says, flustered. “It doesn’t mean I don’t think you’re annoying.”

“Okay,” Bellamy grins. “So, question. If you hate Echo so much, why are you living with her?”

“I was desperate,” Clarke says. “I’m friends with her cousin. Or I was. Seriously considering disowning him as a friend for suggesting Echo live with me.”

“You could kick her out.”

“But then she might stab me.”

“I see your dilemma.”

“If I could afford to live alone, I’d be out of here in a second. But it also sucks, because I really like this place.”

“It is a nice place,” Bellamy agrees. “Maybe you could just annoy her into moving out.”

“I don’t think it’s possible to be more annoying than Echo.”

“I’m sure I’ve had worse roommates than Echo,” Bellamy says. “Once I had a roommate who removed the handle from my bedroom door because he needed the screws. But he never told me what the screws were for.”

Clarke laughs at that, and Bellamy looks pleased with himself. Clarke ducks her head bashfully. “What do you do, anyway?” Clarke asks. “When you’re not hanging around my house annoying me.”

“I’m a teacher. High school history teacher.”

“A teacher? You don’t seem like a teacher.”

“What do teachers seem like?”

“I don’t know… mature.”

“I’ve never met a mature teacher,” Bellamy says. “Trust me, we’re all completely immature. We just fake it for the kids.”

“I should’ve known.”

“What about you? What do you do?”

“I work in an art gallery. Sometimes I do art myself and try to sell it online.”

“Yeah? That’s amazing. Can I see?”

“You’ve already seen. All the art in this house is mine.”

Bellamy actually looks impressed. His eyes flick to the painting on the wall behind her. “You’re really talented.” Clarke tries unsuccessfully not to blush at his words. “Who’s the painting of?”

“Oh. My friend Wells. He made me paint him before he moved to London, so I wouldn’t forget him,” Clarke laughs.

“Maybe you could paint me some time,” Bellamy grins.

“Why? Do you think I’m going to forget you?”

“Are you saying you won’t?”

Clarke shakes her head, trying not to give him the satisfaction of smiling at his dumb joke and his smug face. “You’re so annoying.”

“So you’ve said.”

The two of them eventually move into the living room, and somehow, the conversation never slows. Talking to him is so easy, and before long she feels like she’s told him her whole life story. Clarke doesn’t even notice how long they’ve been talking, until Echo walks out, somehow managing to still look hot, even though she’s clearly hungover, and last night’s make-up is smudged across her face.

“Bellamy, why are you still here?” Echo asks. Clarke looks at the time on her phone. It’s almost lunch time. She’s been talking to Bellamy for three hours.

“Just talking to Clarke.”

Echo stares at him, confused. “Why?”

“Just to annoy her.”

Echo gives him a disparaging look. “No one asked you to stay,” she says. “I’ll see you next weekend.”

“I have to go anyway,” Bellamy says, getting up from where he’s lying on the floor. Clarke doesn’t remember when they migrated from the couch to the floor, but it’s probably time for her to get up and do something with her day too. She does feel sad that Bellamy has to go though. Which is not a good sign. She’s not supposed to get a crush on him.

Echo glares at Clarke after Bellamy is gone. “If you think you can steal him from me, you’re delusional,” she sneers.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Clarke scoffs.

  It becomes something of a habit, her weekends with Bellamy. He’ll come over on Saturday night before he and Echo go out, and then he’ll chat to her on Sunday morning until Echo gets up and tells him to leave. Clarke figures he must have it bad for Echo, if he’s willing to stick around despite the way she treats him. She wants to tell him he deserves better, but she also doesn’t want to get involved.

Meanwhile, Clarke has totally failed in her attempt to not get a crush on him. She has trouble even pretending to be annoyed by him now. She just really really likes him. What he sees in Echo, Clarke will never know.

Clarke wakes up one Saturday night to the sound of the door slamming. When she checks the time on her phone, she sees it’s a quarter to one. By the sounds of it, Echo is alone, and angry. The door to her room slams, and then the music is up full blast. Clarke groans. Looks like she won’t be getting back to sleep any time soon.

She must go back to sleep, despite the noise, because the next time she wakes up, an hour later, the house is silent. That is, except for the sound of someone crashing into a wall.

“Whoops.” Clarke recognises Bellamy’s voice. Well, at least they aren’t being robbed.

Her bedroom door opens, and she can vaguely make out Bellamy’s silhouette in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” she says in a loud whisper. Bellamy giggles. He giggles. He steps into the room and nearly trips over his own feet. He’s very clearly drunk.

“Sorry,” he says. “The door was open.” He makes his way to the bed and crawls on top of her. Clarke has no idea what’s going on. Does he think she’s Echo?

“Bellamy,” she hisses, shoving him off her. He rolls off her easily, but he keeps one arm slung over her body. She’s trying very hard not to think about how nice that feels.

“Can I sleep here? I lost my phone and my wallet and my keys.”

“You should probably go to Echo’s room,” Clarke says. He doesn’t respond. “Bellamy?” He starts snoring, and Clarke sighs. She has an internal debate with herself about whether to stay or whether to go and sleep on the couch. But it’s her bed, and she’s not going to be kicked out of it, just because she’s scared of what Echo will say. So she stays.

  Clarke almost has a heart attack when she wakes up in Bellamy’s arms, until she remembers what happened last night. She watches him sleep for a few minutes, letting herself imagine what it would be like to wake up to him every morning. There’s a twinge in her chest that she can’t ignore. She really went and developed a crush on him. Pathetic. She hears the sounds of Echo banging around, which is strange, because it’s not even 9am yet.

Reluctantly, Clarke removes herself from Bellamy’s embrace, and tiptoes out into the kitchen, where Echo is unplugging the coffee maker.

“I’m taking this with me,” Echo says.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m moving out.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re the worst housemate ever?” Echo sneers, as if it’s obvious.

“I’m the worst housemate ever?”

“You always leave your paintbrushes in the bathroom sink, you use my coffee maker without asking, and you’re always making noise too early in the morning. Oh yeah, and you stole my boyfriend.”

“I stole your boyfriend?” Clarke chooses to focus on the one thing she can actually refute. Not that she doesn’t want Echo to go. She just doesn’t like the insinuation that she’s the bad housemate.

“I’m not your boyfriend, Echo,” Bellamy says, stepping into the kitchen. He looks like hell. Still gorgeous, but exhausted and hungover.

Echo purses her lips at him. “Whatever. I still told her not to try and steal you from me. And she did anyway. Which is just proven by the fact that you’re here, and you clearly slept in her room.”

“Well I wasn’t about to sleep in your room, after last night. And I lost all my shit so I couldn’t get home.”

“You didn’t lose it, you fucking idiot. I took it.”

“You took it?”

Echo shrugs, as if it’s no big deal. “I was mad.”

Clarke sincerely wishes she weren’t in the middle of this argument. She’d very much like to disappear back into her room and pretend she never heard any of it.

“Fucking hell, Echo,” Bellamy groans.

“Don’t be so dramatic. You can have it back.” Echo stalks out of the kitchen with her coffee maker, and Bellamy follows. Clarke retreats to her room. On one hand, she’s happy that Echo is leaving and she won’t have to live with her anymore. On the other hand, she has to find a new roommate. And also, Bellamy might also believe she was trying to “steal” him from Echo, so that’s awkward.

Clarke hears the front door open and close, and she figures Bellamy must be gone. There’s a knock on her bedroom door. Echo has never knocked on her door before.

“Yes?” Clarke calls warily. The door opens. Bellamy is standing there. “I thought you left,” Clarke says.

“Echo left. She said she’d wait until we were both gone to clear her stuff out.”

“Oh.”

“You must be ecstatic,” Bellamy grins.

“You have no idea,” Clarke says with a laugh. “Although it does mean I’m back at square one on the roommate front.”

“You’ll find someone.”

Clarke hesitates. “Listen, about what Echo said about… me trying to steal you from her. I wasn’t—”

“I know, Clarke,” Bellamy says. He steps into the room and finds a seat beside her on the bed. “I was never hers anyway. Sorry about last night, by the way. I was kind of drunk.”

“I noticed.”

“I can’t believe she stole all my stuff.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking. Why’d she get so mad?”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. He looks down at his hand, picking at the sheet beneath him. “She, uh, accused me of only dating her so I could spend time with you.”

Clarke snorts. “God, she’s so paranoid.”

“I mean, she was right.”

“Wait. Really?”

Bellamy shrugs. “What? I think you’re cool.”

“Okay, it’s weird enough that you think I’m cool. But it’s even weirder that you would date Echo just to hang out with me. You could have just asked me to hang out with you.”

“But you think I’m annoying.”

“I don’t think you’re annoying.”

“I knew it,” Bellamy grins.

“Hey, so I kind of need a new roommate. Would you be interested?” Clarke asks him.

Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. “I don’t know. It might be kind of weird.”

“Oh. That’s okay,” Clarke says. She’s disappointed though. She glances at him. “Why would it be weird though?” After all, Echo is going to be gone. Neither of them have to see her again.

“Because I hoping, since you don’t find me annoying anymore… that you might want to go out with me?”

“Oh.”

“So… will you go out with me?”

“Yes.”

Bellamy’s eyes light up. “Okay. Great. So we should probably leave the moving in until we’ve had at least three dates.”

Clarke laughs. “Probably. But you have to help me find another roommate who isn’t crazy.”

“Well, my sister is looking for a place. But I can’t promise she’s not crazy.”

“Anyone has to be better than Echo, right?”

“Yeah, I think we’re both getting an upgrade.”

Clarke laughs, leaning into him, feeling the warm comfort of his touch. When she looks up, he’s gazing at her, and she feels her stomach flip over. He kisses her, darting in to press his lips against hers, all too brief. Clarke chases him, kissing him properly, deeper, slower. When she pulls away, Bellamy is wearing a dazed expression.

“I’ve been thinking about that everyday since I met you,” he says.

“Me too,” Clarke admits. “You know what we should do for our first date?”

“What’s that?”

“Go and buy a new coffee machine.”  

[thetenthdoctorscompanion]

Dean Kat OTP ASKS!!!!

6. Hates the in-laws.

Lol, what in-laws? Not a problem when your family is dead.

1. Acts like they’re dying when they have a cold. 

Dean, but not always. If there’s a hunt on the line, he’ll shove any discomfort under the rug, but God help anyone around if there’s no case. He’ll whine and whine and reminisce about the Apocalypse until Kat suggests knocking him out with a frying pan because the NyQuil isn’t working fast enough.

2. Gets mad at the TV and throws the remote. 

Neither one will throw it, per say, but they’re both very avid screamers. Remotes wouldn’t be thrown unless things get personal, like something on the news hitting a nerve, or Kat manually changing the channel during Dr. Sexy MD.

3. Gets the worst road rage.

Katherine. Dean blows the horn and honks, but Kat grew up around LA traffic, so she’s used to letting out a string of curse words that make Dean’s eyes go wide, and weaving back and forth in tight spaces with her tiny car. Another reason Dean hates letting her drive.

4. Spends too much time in the bathroom on their phone. 

Kat, probably. She just kind of zones out and forgets where she is.

5. Packs the whole closet for an overnight trip. 

Neither one of them. They’re both used to packing light, though Kat’s usually more prepared than Dean is.

6. Hates the in-laws. 

Lol, what in-laws? Not a problem when your family is dead.

7. Hits the snooze button…11 times. 

Dean. Kat is an early bird, and Dean will take all the sleep he can get.

8. Makes the other late for work. 

Dean, for sure. He’s not accustomed to having a job and schedule, needing or wanting to be places at a specific time every day. Kat tries her best to whip him into shape, and not let him affect her, but he always manages to find a way to delay her - whether it be impromptu kisses or him getting frustrated with his laptop or finding a break on a new case. She hates him for it.

9. Uses the television as a babysitter. 

Kat’s more likely to leave the child with the television and hope that it occupies them so she can get some time to herself. Dean is more likely to sit with a child in front of a television - with no regard as to what is on - so that they’ll just shut up.

10. Takes in the stray dog. 

Both of them are the type to pretend they’re inconvenienced at every turn. They’re only keeping the dog for the night, they’re only buying toys so the dog doesn’t scratch up the Impala seats, they’re only letting them sleep on the bed so they don’t have to listen to the whining. But they’re both softies at heart, so they fall for the dog fast.

11. Suggests a 3am trip to McDonald’s. 

Dean. Kat doesn’t need to have her arm twisted.

12. Leaves their shoes out for the other to trip over. 

Dean, for sure. And he’ll do it on purpose too, just to see if she’ll trip while she’s reading a text. She usually doesn’t though.

13. Can’t make up their mind when it comes to dinner. 

Kat. If it was up to Dean, they’d have burgers 75% of the time, and Chinese the other 25%. And he always orders the same thing. Kat’s desperate for a little more variety, but she takes her time making a decision. It drives Dean mental.

14. Needs to be reminded of all their appointments. 

Dean. He’s not used to having any appointments - just being out on the open road and going wherever he pleases. Kat has to get a big calendar and write everything in red so he can keep track of it.

15. Bribes the other into doing chores, getting out of the house…and taking a shower. 

Kat. Always, always, always Kat. She bribes him with food, she bribes him with sex. For the most part, Dean doesn’t mind doing chores - he likes lawn maintenance and doing dishes. Other things, like laundry or grocery shopping, not so much. Plus, when he’s hung up on something, it’s hard to get him going again.

16. Picks the movies. 

Dean. Kat doesn’t have too many opinions, and Dean has enough for both of them. She doesn’t mind. It’s good to watch him be so ridiculously passionate about something outside of hunting.

17. Takes the safety steps when building a pillow fort. 

Kat, probably. She has the benefit of experience building forts, something Dean didn’t have the luxury of as a child.

18. Kisses the other’s injuries better. 

Dean. They’ve both patched each other up more times than they can count, but an extra kiss on the bandage is Dean’s kind of thing. He’s a little more comfortable showing affection. Even after they’re officially together, Kat’s simply not used to the gestures.

19. Is addicted to angry birds, game of war, candy crush, temple run, or flappy bird. 

Dean. As soon as Kat gets him a phone that’s not a flip burner cell, he starts tapping and exploring and can’t seem to stop. Kat seriously regrets her decisions.

20. Kills the spiders. 

Neither of them make a huge deal about it, but after spending so much time in grimy hotels or sleeping outside, Dean’s a little less shocked by them than Kat is.

21. Hogs the blankets. 

Kat. Luckily, Dean doesn’t take that shit lying down, and will pull her and the blankets back whether he wakes her up or not.

22. Takes pranks too far. 

Dean. For sure. I.E. the time he put her phone number up on a dating site because she messed with his cassettes. She didn’t speak to him for a week.

23. Makes the dirty jokes. 

Psh. Dean. Like that’s a question.

24. Keeps a piggy bank. 

Kat. Piggy bank implies having one place to keep your change, which is more Kat’s speed. Dean saves his change, but it’s spread everywhere from the floor of the Impala to the pockets of every jacket and jeans, to the bottom of his duffel.

25. Has no problem having ice cream for breakfast. 

Dean. Kat implores him to at least make it a banana split so he can get some fruit in his system.

26. Gets a tattoo when they’re drunk. 

Also Dean. Kat cackles when he wakes up with her name in an uneven scrawl across his hip, but he’s only pissed because it looks uneven. He goes back sober to get it touched up, maybe embellished a little. Kat’s too flustered for words when she finds out he didn’t just have it covered up.

27. Trips over their own feet. 

Dean. Kat’s usually more graceful than that.

28. Makes the other go for a walk. 

Kat. She likes running. Dean thinks that she’s crazy, and resents when she bribes him into coming with her. Sure, the post-workout sex is great, but at what cost?

29. Whines until they get what they want. 

Dean will whine and annoy his way to victory. Kat’s more likely to fight and stand her ground until Dean gives in to avoid a fight.

30. Tries to act tough but really isn’t. 

This is a basic summary of both of their personalities.

31. Talks the most, says the least. 

Dean probably talks more to fill the silence, or talks about movies and television and music and cases, but doesn’t ever share anything about himself. Still, Kat’s usually pretty good about guessing what’s going on in his head.

32. Talks the least, says the most.

Kat’s more quiet all around. It takes him time, but Dean slowly learns how to read her. He prides himself on being one of the few people that can.

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 86)

Weiss meditated until night fell, her stomach started rumbling, and Taiyang had sent her and Pyrrha messages telling them that dinner was ready, and “Nora said she’ll try her best to leave some sweet potato fries for you guys, but she isn’t making any promises.”

Pyrrha helped pull her up again, this time because her legs had fallen asleep from how long she’d tried and failed to stay perfectly still. “Are you going to be alright?” she asked as Weiss tried to walk on her own.

“I’ll be fine!” Weiss replied as she winced with every step. “It’s just pins and needles, I’ve had worse!”

“Well don’t overexert yourself!” Pyrrha said. “All the progress you make in one hard day of working out and pushing the limit will all go to waste if you spend the next few days unable to move.”

Weiss cringed. “I know, but thanks for the reminder. Are you going to head back to the house, too?” she asked as she thumbed to the lights of Keeper’s Hollow off in the distance.

Pyrrha shook her head. “Not ideal to workout and build an appetite after you already ate,” she replied.

Weiss nodded. “Weights are in the shed over there,” she said, pointing to it. “Don’t worry about breaking anything: Fae creations were made to last.”

Pyrrha chuckled. “So I’ve seen. Good night, Weiss.”

“Night, Pyrrha,” Weiss replied, before she hobbled on back to the house.

Dinner was held outside, sitting on blankets and eating off banana leaves like the barbecue a little over a week ago.

Nora, Ren, Ruby, Yang, and Penny were all sitting together, helping Jaune with his Actaeon; from how most of them were trying hard not to laugh at whatever he said, Weiss figured it wasn’t going well. Blake and Qrow quietly kept to their own side, hungrily tearing through a giant pile of meat. On the other side, Winter bonded with Zwei, alternately petting him and summoning her elementals for him to play with, chief among them Idun.

Taiyang presided over it all in the center, standing over a giant cauldron full of bubbling oil, a massive pan of breadcrumbs and cut up ingredients beside him, and a rope fence around all of that. He looked up from the pot, waved with a gloved hand as the other manned an extra long pair of tongs. She couldn’t see his grin underneath the protective mask, but like Ruby, it was just too big and radiant to ever be hidden.

“Hey Weiss!” he called out as he turned over some food in the pot. “We ran out of sweet potatoes a while back, but we still got a little bit of everything else! Anything you want in particular?”

Weiss shook her head. “I’ll just take whatever.”

He nodded. “Got it! Just sit down someplace, and I’ll bring it over in fifteen minutes or so. Don’t step into the danger zone—hot grease splatters suck a whole lot more when you’re using Valley oil!”

Weiss eyed the pot, bubbling like crazy with a roaring fire underneath it. “I’m surprised you’re deep frying dinner, considering what got you in the hospital in the first place,” she said, eyeing the “bandages” still pulsing and wrapped around his arms.

Taiyang laughed. “What can I say? I missed Valley-style fried foods! Besides, just because you can end up getting hurt doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do something—what’s life without a little danger and risk?”

Boom.

Taiyang shielded his face as a bubble of oil exploded. Weiss jumped back and made an ice shield.

“Just gotta make sure you’re prepared for it,” he said as he put his arm down, pointed at the grease stain on his apron, and the greasy patch of grass well within the rope fence.

Weiss dispelled the ice. “Right...”

“By the way, is Pyrrha coming back any time soon? Freshness charms be damned, you gotta have fried stuff fresh out of the pot!”

Weiss shook her head. “She’s training; might be an hour till she gets back.”

“Ah well, guess I’ll just restart the fire later,” Taiyang said as he started fishing food out of the pot and set them to the side to drain.

Weiss turned around and looked for someplace to sit.

Ruby caught sight of her, and suddenly stopped laughing; Yang did, too, and gave her a look that said it’d be best if she not join them. She turned to where Winter was, decided not to as she saw Zwei and her elementals showering her with wet, slobbery affection, physical or magical. She turned to Qrow and Blake, the latter’s ears perked and she waved her over.

“Hey,” Weiss said as she sat down.

“Hi,” Blake said in-between bites of a porkchop.

“Sup, princess,” Qrow said as he munched on a giant drumstick.

Then, the three of them settled down for a wordlessly, mutually agreed upon silence.

Dinner was eaten, Jaune gave up on learning Actaeon for the moment, and Winter finally ran out of magic to sustain her elementals, Idun and the others sadly nuzzling and waving goodbye to Zwei before they returned to their soul stones or dissipated into the air.

Taiyang stayed behind to clean up while waiting for Pyrrha to come back. “I just got my arms out of that tank this afternoon, let me stretch them out some more; I’ll get sick of doing chores eventually, don’t worry,” he said when a few of the others had protested.

“Well, looks like it’s time to hit the hay!” Yang said as she stood up and headed to the house. “Get it? Because most of you guys are sleeping in the barn?”

Weiss and Blake groaned.

Nora snorted. “Hah! ’Hay,’ that’s great! Seriously, though, I am beat! Don’t know about the rest of you, but I am ready to get off the black moss tea and into the dreamscape! These past few days have felt like the longest multi-episode season finale ever!” she said as she walked into the barn.

Ren nodded as he followed after her. “Even for the Valley’s standards, this has been a lot...”

“Or the Queensguard’s!” Winter said as Zwei handed her a jar of dry bath. “I’ll just go get rid of the dog and elemental slobber smell before I head inside...”

“You don’t have to, you know!” Nora called out as she went up the stairs. “We’re all used to way worse smells!”

“I’d rather it not spread to my plushies, thank you,” Winter said as she headed off to a secluded area. “My Eluna already seems to permanently smell of tears and snot...”

“And despair!” Nora added. “There’s a LOT of that too!”

“What does despair even smell like?” Weiss asked.

“Like a combination of helplessness, terror, and regret,” Ren replied.

Weiss looked at him, before she shook her head and began to head inside, too.

“Hey Weiss?”

Weiss froze. She slowly turned around. “Y-Yes, Ruby...?” she asked as she forced a smile on her face.

Ruby hesitated for a moment. “Can we talk for a while? Alone? It’s really important stuff...”

“Can it wait till morning?”

Ruby shook her head. “It’s about your parole. Elder Goodwitch said I should tell you ASAP because she won’t have much time for anything once the Council kicks the fight against the Heralds into high gear.

“I also really want to talk to you about some other important stuff.”

Weiss reluctantly. “Uh, sure… where to?”

“Well, I’d say my room, but Yang’s sleeping over tonight, and I was going to say the barn, but then your sister might make that difficult, so you mind if we take a boat out to the water?”

Winter and Yang looked back from where they were, eyes wide in alarm.

Nora ran down the stairs and peered over the side. “Oooh, snap, I see dramatic build-up to a highly emotionally-charged scene that’s going to change everything!”

Weiss ignored her. “Could you let me change first? My clothes are all muddy.”

Ruby nodded. “Sure! I’ll just be waiting by the Tube station”

Ruby left the Hollow, Weiss headed back to the house to change. She tensed up as she neared Yang.

Yang raised her finger at her. “Just so you know: I promised Ruby I wouldn’t say or do anything about whatever you two are going to talk about, so say whatever you need to say. You’re safe—for now.”

Weiss nodded, before she headed up to the house, wondering just what exactly was in store this time...

The original waterway leading to Keeper’s Hollow had rarely been used ever since the Tubes were invented; save for large-scale construction work, clean-up for a week after the Flood, or the system suffering a catastrophic break-down, few ever took a boat out there, and rarely the whole distance to the second most remote residential areas in the Bastion.

It was a very different kind of swamp out there, the only signs of Fae civilization being the roots and plants that had been sawed off or hacked back to keep the way mostly clear, and the signs pointing the way to Keeper’s Hollow and back. Moonlight streamed in from the breaks in the canopy; frogs and birds sang their songs; ripples traveled over the surface of the water as Ruby rowed at a slow, steady pace.

It was a peaceful, beautiful scene, marred only by the tension between them, growing ever worse as the minutes passed.

They hit the halfway point, Ruby pulled up the oars. Weiss kept on looking over the side of the boat, staring at the water, the trees, the animals that she could see. They drifted along in silence, until the tension grew too much.

“You don’t have to stay here in the Valley any more,” Ruby said.

Weiss blinked, turned to her. “Pardon…?”

“You don’t have to stay here in the Valley any more,” Ruby repeated. “I talked with Elder Goodwitch, and her secretaries are getting the paperwork ready so they can transfer you to Arethusa—it’s our biggest Fae settlement in Sekhmet. It might take a week or two because of everything else going on, and changing your identities since your family’s permanently banned there ever since the Scourge, and all.”

Weiss stared at her.

“You can take Winter with you!” Ruby added quickly. “And it’s not all hot, and dry, and full of sand like Zeal—Arethusa’s actually underground, smack dab in the middle of this HUGE oasis; it’s like an island paradise complete with a giant ocean inside a cave, and there’s plants, trees, and flowers everywhere!

“I’ve only seen holos of it, but they say it’s really nice! Elder Goodwitch even says she knows a senior water weaver who’d love to take you both on and train you.”

Weiss blinked. “Are you… are you getting rid of me...?”

“Well, not getting rid of you, exactly, since we won’t go through with the transfer unless you want to.” Ruby paused. “Do you, you know, want to move? Because—well, honestly I really don’t want you to, but it’s your choice in the end, and--”

“No.”

Ruby paused. “Sorry, what was that?”

“No!” Weiss cried. “I’m not leaving the Valley! Ruby, in case you haven’t noticed as I have, all of my attempts at fleeing from my problems in life have ended catastrophically, because it only ever seems to end with in me running smack dab into new ones that can turn out to be even worse than what I had in the first place!

“That things turned out so well for me in the Valley was only because I lucked out and ran into you, and not a Soul Eater or whatever the hell else is lurking out there that needs Keepers like you around!”

Ruby blinked, before her eyes brightened. “So you’re staying…?”

Weiss nodded. “Yes. I’m staying. My complete lack of desire to find out what sort of new problems I might run into in a place like Sekhmet aside, I’ve started to make a life for myself here, and most importantly, I don’t want to leave you guys behind here!”

“You guys are my friends!” she looked down. “… And I’ve… never really had those...”

Ruby put her hand on Weiss shoulder and smiled. “When we get back, I’ll go call Elder Goodwitch’s secretaries and tell them you’re staying.”

Weiss looked up and smiled back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Ruby said as he pulled her hand back.

There was another long moment of silence, their smiles fading as the tension from earlier returned.

“So… since you’re staying and all… can I ask you a really personal question? About us…?”

Weiss frowned. “I… uh… sure.”

“Do you still like me, Weiss?”

Weiss blinked. “I…” she looked down and sighed. “I still don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Ruby smiled. “Don’t be.” She blushed. “But… you know, do you want to try and find out? Same way we did the first time?”

Weiss stared at her, her cheeks burning red.

Ruby began to sweat. “I mean, it’s totally okay if you don’t want to and I can understand that completely, but you know, the last time we did this in the honey dream it was really awful though I couldn’t blame you, but still I really don’t want that to be the last kiss we ever--”

“Ruby?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Ruby did.

Weiss reached out with her bare hand, cupped Ruby’s cheek as she slowly brought her lips up to hers. Sweat began to drip down her forehead, her fingers trembled, and she could feel her gloved hand aching as the runes on her gauntlet clamped down on her magic.

Ruby smiled. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know...”

“I do!” Weiss cried. “I’m just… nervous, is all!”

“Want me to meet you half-way?”

“No!” Weiss barked. “You just… stay there, because I want to be 100% sure I 100% want to kiss you!”

Ruby chuckled. “Okay then...” she said a she closed her eyes and puckered up.

Weiss sucked in a breath; her whole body was trembling, sweat was pouring down all over skin, she could feel her gauntlet start to reach its limit as her magic only kept on building up.

Did she really want to do this?

Did she really want to risk finding out that she still loved Ruby?

Did she really want that fact affecting her decisions from then on out, prevent her from ever playing it safe and just assuming that she didn’t love Ruby, and then the both of them could easily move on?

Then, one of Nicholas Schnee’s most famous quotes came to mind:

“You know what? Fuck it.”

Weiss surged forward and kissed Ruby.

A lot of the romance novels she had read described a great kiss as “explosive.” In her case, it wasn’t figurative, as she could feel all of the magic body going crazy, every ounce of power inside her supercharged, and eager to escape wherever and whenever, damn the consequences.

Weiss whimpered, trembling, shaking, about to pull away before she froze their lips together again or worse.

Then Ruby took her gloved hand into hers, intertwined her fingers with hers, and pressed her palm right up to the leather. Without thinking, all that magic surged from Weiss’ body and into Ruby, ice blue tendrils arcing from her gauntlet like a blast from a fire hose, turning into a radiant silver just before they dove into the back of Ruby’s hand.

And just like that, Weiss felt completely calm, like a sea after a violent storm, the waves settling down until the surface was almost completely still. Then she felt something humming, singing with immense power, stirring the waters all over again but in a good way:

Her magic, but resonating in perfect harmony with something much, much greater.

Ruby pulled away, eyes wide open. “Holy shit!” she whispered as she let go of Weiss’ hand. “Weiss, you okay…?!”

Weiss responded by throwing herself at her, wrapping her arms around her back, pulling their bodies tight against each other as she locked lips with her once more.

She felt Ruby’s lips turn from hard like rock to soft like clay in an instant, moulding to the shape of Weiss’ mouth as she kissed back.  She shivered as she felt Ruby’s muscles tensing and rippling under her clothes, more powerful than ever as every fiber of her body was infused with magic—Weiss’ magic.

Ruby sucked on her bottom lip, wrapped her arms around Weiss’ waist and made it impossible for her to pull away. Not that she wanted to—no, she wanted more, more of Ruby, find out just what she could do to her with all that strength when she didn’t pull back, while all her magic coursing through her system made every last touch and kiss all the more intense, causing all sorts of strange, interesting reactions that didn’t even come close to anything she’d ever felt before.

Weiss moaned, a low, guttural sound in her throat, telling Ruby exactly what she wanted without saying a single word. But still, she broke the kiss, straddled Ruby’s lap, and put her hands on her chest and gently pushed her back, just in case she didn’t get it.

There was a mischievous, playful look in Ruby’s eyes as she tilted back… and proceeded to lose balance, fall right off her seat and to the back of the boat.

Thud.

“Ow…!” Ruby muttered, her neck awkwardly craned for her horns catching on the edge.

Weiss’ eyes widened in horror. “Oh my gosh—are you okay?!” she cried. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what--!”

“Weiss?”

“Yes…?”

“Could you help me up…?”

Weiss blinked, before she did, then quickly retreated to the other seat further up the boat, turned away from Ruby, her whole body shaking, and her face buried in her hands—it looked and felt like it was melting for how hard she was blushing, and all the sweat pouring down her skin.

Ruby sat back down on her seat and smiled. “Heh…” she as she rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m guessing that’s a ‘Yes, you still like me’…?”

Weiss didn’t reply.

“Should I start rowing back to Keeper’s Hollow?”

Weiss looked back at her and hurriedly shook her head, before she buried it in her hands once more.

Ruby giggled as she settled down and got comfortable. “Take your time, Weiss… I can wait.”

Note: For those curious, yes, this scene will get an alternate version when the main story ends and I begin the “Sexy Animal Noise” spin-offs.

[your-highnessmarvel]

Burn - chapter nine

Chapter nine: Rebarbative

The mat resounded with the sound of a body being harshly thrown to the ground. She never knew how hard she could catapult someone until she had successfully thrown Sam over her shoulder.

"Damn girl," he whined. He had sweat glistening on his forehead, sliding down his temples. His face was contorted in many different variations of pain as he begrudgingly climbed back onto his feet, breathless and tired.

Addie herself was not on her best appearance. Her curly dark hair was sloppily hanging in a ponytail on the right side of her head and she had flyaway hairs stuck to her cheeks and forehead. Sweat had managed to get in every single fold and crevice of her body, and her t-shirt was sticking to her body like glue.

"Again," she ordered, her voice wavering somewhere between breathlessness and determination. She locked eyes with Sam, her hands in fists in front of her face, standing slightly turned and shoulder width apart.

"We've been at this for hours now," Sam breathed. "Let's take a break."

"You're a pussy, come on!" she exclaimed, stepping in for a punch. She got him in the ribs, her knuckles ringing against bone. He winced but tapped her hand away, obviously tired. There was no trace of humor on her face, no glint of wit in her hazel eyes. Her jaw was clenched, teeth gritting against each other. "Hit me," she growled.

Sam shook his head, taking small steps back, his breath wheezing out of his lungs. "Let's just take a water break, birdie," he suggested, his voice low and tentative.

Addie looked around in feigned astonishment. The gym was remotely empty for a Saturday morning; not one of the other Avengers was training either on the mats, the treadmills, or the punching bags. It was a little passed ten in the morning, which was a rare time for the gym to be empty.

"I'm going to kick your ass, Wilson," she growled, her jaw twitching with anger. She charged for him, but instead of throwing a punch back or counterattacking, he simply stepped out of the way.

Sam shrugged apathetically. Addie had thrown herself into training like a mad dog ever since the epic failure at the industrial plant two weeks ago. She had transformed into something terrible, obsessed with perfection and achievement. There was never a day where she didn't spend five to six hours in the gym, training in various dangerous techniques and pushing her body to the limit. She took on anyone who was willing to accept a challenge. She was, however, not humorous in the way she trained, often purposefully hurting her partner and being outright rude; inciting a fight. Wanda and Scott had been the firsts to give up on Addie's savage and outrageous obsession with training. Clint had offered to coach her in computers, which he assured was a way for the girl to relax and let off steam some other way. Steve and Sam, however, were powerless in refusing to fight with her.

"You need to relax," Sam said, brows crawling up his sweaty forehead.

"You need to shut the hell up and fight with me," the brunette growled back, her teeth bared like a wolf.

Sam shook his head, hands on his hips. She had been driving him crazy, acting as if there was nothing of more importance than fighting. She talked of nothing but that, insisted they do nothing but quarrel. She was utterly obsessed with training. Even in the early hours of morning, Sam would find her in the gym on a treadmill, at the punching bags, or outside with Bucky shooting guns.

"Take it easy, Addison," Sam whispered.

"I'm not going to take it easy, Sam!" she barked, her easy glistening with acrimony. "I need to get better!"

Sam rolled his eyes with a low growl rising in his chest. "You are getting better!" he answered. "Stop throwing yourself into training and putting everyone around you at arms length."

Addie huffed, waving him away like there was a fly in her face. She reached for the strings on the side of the fighting rink and slid between them, officially calling the training session to an end.

"You know!" Sam called after her as she stomped away, her messy ponytail swinging behind her head. "Everyone here thinks I'm right! You don't have to prove to us you're better and-"

She cut him off by slamming the heavy metal gym door shut, the sound reverberating on the walls of the bathroom she now found herself in. She leaned her back against the door, her head knocking against the metal. Her chest heaved as she breathed in heavily, her eyes closed, jaw clenched.

Steve kept telling her that she hadn't failed, but that she had learned. Bullshit. There was nothing to learn from bruised ribs, swollen lips, and cuts all over her face. Instead, she bore the scars of her failure, which reminded her everyday that in that moment, she had been so full of herself, so sure of victory that it had almost ended in her death. She had healed significantly fast; her scars had stayed an angry red for no more than three days, and by the end of the first week, they were pastel pink and almost melded with her skin. Except for a particularly red gash over her brow that would forever stay imprinted in her flesh.

She knew all this fast healing and strength was from the serum Wanda told her about. She had asked Clint and Steve to tell her more, revealing she had in fact been injected. She finally read her own file. There was something haunting in the photo that HYDRA had of her, a picture she had never seen before. Steve said they had probably snapped the picture when Addie was with HYDRA. There were lists upon lists of experiments directed on her of which she had no memory of. Pages and pages of notes and feedback about her progress was what made the file so thick.

Subject x98 has successfully passed experiment 1738.

Subject x98 has failed experiment Z70. Must be wiped. Return to the oven.

"What's the oven?" she had asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"I think that's where they would wipe your memory and reprogram you with whatever they wanted you to learn," Steve had mumbled back, leaning over in his chair so his saddened blue eyes could look into hers.

Subject x98 has commenced experiment Y00. Serum injected. Gene isolated.

She had almost thrown the file at arms length. There notes in the margins about how "well" she had performed on several cognitive evaluations and physical tests. She hated those people; people that had torn her life apart.

"Don't let this play with your mind, birdie," Steve had whispered, his delicate hand reaching for hers.

Addie decided now was a good time for a scorching hot shower. She ignored the past that was knocking at her door, instead opting for a lavender smelling body wash and shampoo. Even though she had spent the last two weeks sobbing under the hot jet of water, now she was just standing there, her eyes fixed on the marble grey walls. Bubbles glistened down the length of her body, hiding the various array of bruises that marked her skin like a map. Her dark wet hair clung to her neck. The hot water relaxed her tensed muscles, making her skin the color of pale blood.

She scrubbed along her glittering skin, the soap sending a nice smelling aura around her. Steam rose off her skin like smoke as she took the time to massage her scalp and exfoliate her skin. Then she reached over the semi-transparent door and gripped for the woolen towel, wrapping it around her humid body. She turned the water off, stepping out of the shower into the frigid air of the bathroom.

Her heart almost wrenched out of her chest when she spotted the lonely figure lingering by the entry of the bathroom, the one that led from the gym. She gripped the towel over her chest, a yelp escaping her mouth.

"What the fuck, Bucky!" she yelled, almost slipping on the humid floor. Her cheeks flushed with red so crimson she could compete with tomatoes.

He stood there, startled as if he was a child being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His mouth was parted in surprise, his enigmatic blue eyes wide open, cheeks tinged with red. He had an especially hard time keeping his eyes on her face as he shuffled from one foot to the other, his fingers fidgeting in angst.

"What are you doing in here!?" she shouted again, her chest heaving, her mind going all over the place; in places it shouldn't go.

He was wearing a white tank top and grey sweatpants, and by the way his tanned skin was glowing with sweat, she could tell he had been outside. He often shot guns in the morning and if Addie didn't ask for training, he'd work on the land with Steve and Clint.

"Answer me, God dammit!" she shouted again, startling him even more. "Why are you in here gawking like a seventeen year old boy!?" It was the first time she had seen him at a lost for words, his eyes wide with fear and embarrassment.

"Jesus, relax," he mumbled and he finally took those daring blue eyes off of her. She let out a breath, feeling like his eyes had poked holes in the shield she kept up. His presence was making her skin prickle with something unknown and her stomach was pooling with a warmth that sent tingles to her toes. She hated him so much she felt it in her body.

"Get out, oh my God," she growled, shuffling on her feet, the water sloshing around her toes.

"No," he mumbled back, his eyes going anywhere but there. "I need a shower too."

He took his bottom lip between his teeth and Addie felt like frying him right then and there with her electricity. Her body was reacting in ways she refused to acknowledge, which made her anger peak. The lights overhead flickered, drawing Bucky's attention.

"I'm going to go shower now," he said, gesturing to the other stalls, clearing his throat as he moved carefully. He passed dangerously close to her, making her skin react with pigments of red.

"Yeah, you do that," she said, her voice timid, a shiver slicing down her spine like liquid fire. She watched him carefully as he moved, his arms coated in a sheen layer of sweat, his face adorning a week long stubble, and his hair messy and tangled. She wanted to look away, really, she did, but he was like a magnet to her metal and the more she watched him the more that warm feeling in her tummy intensified. His metal arm reflected the glinting light, the plates calibrating and moving. He reached into a stall with his metal limb, opening the water in a graceful gesture. When he turned back, his eyes found hers in a beat, making her look away quickly.

She headed for the locker where she left her clothes, but before she could get there, Bucky called her name. She turned on her heel, her cheeks burning, her lips pinched together.

"You called me Bucky," he said, and a ghost of a smirk stretched his lips, but she had no time to fully admire it as she stomped right out of the bathroom.

The next evening, she was sitting with the whole gang, their heads bent over spaghetti that Steve and Clint so professionally cooked. They were enjoying pleasant chatter, but the girl was trying her best to avoid any eye contact with Bucky. She still had the image of him, staring wide-eyed, cheeks flushed, looking as surprised as ever.

"We should get a toaster oven," Scott commented, his fork chubby with spaghetti.

"That's the best idea I've heard today," Wanda answered, her mouth full, red sauce on the corners of her mouth. She was nodding vehemently, her big blue eyes glistening with content. It was nights like these, spent sitting around the table with food stuffed in their mouths, that they all felt as normal as they could ever be.

"Losers, we already have a toaster," Sam added, his own fork pointed upwards.

"We could do so much more with a toaster oven, Sammy," Addie said with a smirk.

"What we really need," Sam interjected, taking his sweat time to swallow his food, "is a new fridge."

"Don't start with that," Steve grumbled.

"I mean, we are seven here and that fridge does not store enough food for all of us," Sam continued, talking as if he was on a Judge Judy episode. "And it squeaks on its hinges." The table erupted in subtle laughter. "I don't know what kind of old appliances Tony gave us, but they squeaky."

Addie smiled and rolled her eyes, but when she looked at Steve, he was looking at his plate with a serious look on his face. "Speaking of Tony," he said solemnly.

"Shit," Wanda mumbled, her eyes turning from bright to somber blue. There was never a long moment of normality. Their lives were plagued with tiny moments like these, which were always interrupted by the real matters lingering not far out of reach.

"He said he went to investigate the plant we were at a couple weeks ago," he started, wringing his hands nervously, risking a look at Addie. "He didn't find anything. Not a trace of life. Whoever had been there picked up their dead bodies and sauntered out of there."

"They must have left something behind," Scott said, his brows furrowing.

"They did actually," Steve answered. "They left a half burnt map. They hung it over something and put tacks in them. Tony found holes on the map and he thinks that indicates more bases. He also thinks we should do some investigation of our own."

"You seem to agree a lot with what Tony thinks," Sam grumbled under his breath.

"I do, yes," Cap answered rather brusquely. Addie risked a look at where Bucky was silently eating, wearing a black woolen shirt. His eyes were concentrated on his meal, but his hands were gripping his utensils. "We have no idea what Loki wants with HYDRA. We are the ones in the dark and unless we find out something, we'll get blindsided."

"We need to know what he wants with Addie," Clint added lowly, his timid eyes locking with Addie's. She knew he had been in Montreal, so it was no surprise to her when her name came up along with the alleged alien tyrant.

"It's like a fucking scattered puzzle," Addie grumbled, massaging her temples.

"Yes, and when we make a connection," Steve said, "it'll be easier for us."

"So what's the plan?" she asked. Everyone looked at her surprisingly, their eyes speaking more than their mouths. She felt the blood rise to her cheeks, her mouth twisting as she realized what they all must be thinking. "I'm not going to hide here because I got a few cuts and bruises last time."

"Correction," Wanda said, her pointer finger up, "you almost died."

"That's besides the point," she mumbled back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm alive now. And I got better."

"Yeah by being a bitch," Sam grumbled, still not over how easy Addie had thrown him over her shoulder yesterday.

"So," Steve said before things could get out of hand, "we will be going to California soon, probably Friday."

"There's underground tunnels that Tony said were in construction, but the city has barely any legal records of it," Clint added. "Something's fishy."

"Alright, let's get a hard on for jungle fever!" Scott laughed.

They ended dinner on quite the humorous note and proceeded to dishes as always. It's crazy how normal, stupid daily things could get these somewhat abnormal beings to collaborate intricately. They had this thing going; a routine, whether it be dishes or not. Even Addie, as she stepped away from the group to observe them, she could see how everything about them was routine, inbred in their friendship. They knew each other on levels unimaginable; they had delved in each others' pasts and there was not a trace of maliciousness between them. They were incredible human beings, normal and abnormal, huge and small, crazy and silent. They threw water at each other and shoved one another, but they all knew how dangerous life could be, and that is what made them all enjoy small moments like those.

She was startled when she saw a shadow on the wall from where she was silently observing her friends. She turned to face a freshly shaved Bucky, his face smooth. He gave her a sideways smirk, his eyes tired from the harsh day.

"You don't have to come with us to California, you know," he said casually, leaning his shoulder on the wall. She turned her back to him, effectively hiding how red her face became. She still thought about their encounter in the bathroom yesterday and she hated how much she reacted to something so girly and trivial.

"Shut up," she mumbled. Her hair curled around her face and fell down her back in a cascade of midnight waves. Bucky leaned in slightly, his eye catching the glistening of her hair in the warm glow of the kitchen.

"You don't have to prove anything to us," he continued, his voice quiet.

"And you don't have to talk to me," she answered. "You told me to stay away from you in the plane. You keep your distances. You're cold and conceded, so you can eat shit for all I care." Her choice of words left him a bit wary of her mental state. She kept her eyes glued to her friends but she didn't see them. Her mind was preoccupied with the man who was too close to her.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he mumbled. She felt his breath on her hair and a shiver passed through her body. Bucky could see the goosebumps on her neck. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Whatever, James," she sighed, turning to face him, realizing how close he was. "I'm over it." She made to walk passed him, but he effortlessly stepped in front of her, blocking her with his body. She looked up from under her lashes, her jaw clenched, eyes alight with anger.

It ticked her off just how close he was. He stood over her, his chin almost touching the top of her hair and it made her skin crawl. She could feel the very visible blue rivers of energy glittering under her pale flesh. His eyes clicked to her neck, where he could clearly see how affected she was. He saw her pulse, straining against her skin. He saw the light blue under her veins and he rose a brow, a sly smirk playing on his lips. "Nervous?"

"Shut the hell up," she said through clenched teeth. Her heart was subtly gaining rhythm, throbbing in her throat and in her ears. The hairs on her arms and at the back of her neck rose.

"Come on, Addie," he whispered, his eyes checking over her head if their friends had seen anything. "I'm not saying I don't want you to come with us. I'm saying you don't have to throw yourself in the fight right now." He reached out and seemed to think twice about it, his eyes shyly searching her own.

"I'm going to go whether you want to or not," she growled back. "And I'm not doing it to prove anything to you or Wanda or Steve or anyone." She dug her nails into her palms, knowing her skin would be marked with crimson.

"You're not as strong as you try to let everyone know," he spat, his face morphing into disgust. "I've never seen someone as falsely confident as you. You're going to get yourself killed and drag us all down with you."

"What is wrong with you?" she barked back, her face coming closer to his own, her eyes boring into the rich velvet blue of his. "Seriously. You need to get a grip of how you feel. You always give me two sides to the mask, and frankly, I'm fucking tired of it."

He sighed through his nose, his eyes glazing over in apathy. "I'm just trying to make you see that you saunter around here like your fists are stronger than your electricity."

"What are you trying to say?" she asked, her mouth twisting into something between angry and curious.

"Maybe," he started, and he leaned in like he had the biggest secret to tell her, "you should concentrate more on your electricity than your physical training." His mouth grazed the shell of her ear, his hot breath warming her skin. The feeling of liquid fire returned to her stomach and she gulped.

She felt like her emotions had been thrown in the blender. "This conversation isn't going anywhere," she said blandly as he leaned away, his head tilting slightly. "You make me want to puke."

"Lovely."

"That doesn't mean I won't go to California, James," she sighed. "I'll be there to bug the shit out of you."

He shrugged with a nonchalant smile on his lips and walked by her, leaving her to stare down the hallway, her heart raging against her breastbone.

Thursday morning, she sat with Wanda in the grass, their long brown hair gently swaying in the wind. Their eyes stared down the little valley while the warm rising sun patted their glowing skin. They had picked a warm morning to attempt training; the air was leading to believe that the day would be humid and heavy, while the sun promised a very hot afternoon and an even hotter night.

"So how do you want to start?" Wanda asked, her mouth twisted in a humorous smile.

"I don't know, maybe we should touch fingers," Addie responded sarcastically. Wanda laughed, hitting her friend in the shoulder.

"Yeah, then we can mold into each other to create one big and great super hero," she laughed.

"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," Addie grumbled, but nonetheless, she had a smile on her lips.

"Oh my God," Wanda sighed. "Okay. Tell me what you want to practice with your... your power."

Addie shrugged, looking out towards the sky again. She had never really used her electricity on a grand scale. She had used it for the minimal and small cases, like turning on or off appliances or taping into a cellphone conversation. She hadn't ever had the need to really use it for something drastic, until Florida, when she had fried that guy.

"I have no idea, Wanda," she admitted. "I haven't had to use it to end the world yet."

"I love how you had to say yet," the other girl giggled. "But I know what we'll do first."

"Don't make me kill someone," Addie grumbled as both the girls got on their feet, patting themselves down.

"Listen," Wanda started, her eyes squinting against the hot rays, "when I first started mingling with my power, I was terribly scared of it. I was scared that once I let it out, let it all out, I would lose control. I would generate something unstoppable."

Addie nodded, wiping a loose strand of dark hair away from her eyes. "But once you did, you figured out it was like playing with Play-Doh."

Wanda's lips stretched into a wide smile, teeth and all. "Not exactly, but yes, you get the point."

Addie shook her head like there were a million flies buzzing around it. There was no way in hell that she would let all that energy out of her. There was a chance that she could control it, but there were more chances that she would wipe the entire continent.

Wanda reached out, a delicate hand resting on the other girl's elbow, seeing the chaos in the hazel brown of her eyes. "Maybe we could try just a little, right?" she said calmly.

Addie shrugged. "I can show you something," she answered. The other girl nodded, lips stretched into a sympathetic smile.

Addie lifted her left hand up before her, brown eyes concentrated on her palm. There was a slight tingle in the air, like static crackling among the atoms, as the girl focused her energy like she had practiced many times before. Slowly, and carefully, the palm of her hand lit up, glowing faintly. The blue light reflected in her pupils as the energy grew. She was creating a small, refined ball of electrical impulses, buzzing and sizzling in her palm. She strained against the whispers and the calls of everything electrical. Her senses were raw as she felt and heard all the murmurs, patting against her ears, begging silently.

"I think I know what you can hear," Wanda whispered, and when Addie flicked her eyes up, she saw the girl wide-eyed with surprise. "I can... I can hear it." Her face contorted in a frown, eyes alight with curiosity.

Addie was beginning to feel the usual familiar ease of her energy, her brain not as cloudy, her senses raw but aware. When she looked around, she could see things she could not usually see. Feel things that were usually fiction.

"Addie, I can feel it," Wanda whispered again, taking a tentative step forward. She raised her right hand, crimson ribbons of magic spiraling between her fingers. Addie's eyes widened, her heart racing violently in her chest. "I can mold it, like my own."

Addie played with it, stretching it in and out, the electrical impulses spanning over her arms and fingers, then focusing back into her palm. It was a real marvel to look at. She cupped her two hands together, holding her little ball inside her two hands.

She saw the string of red before she could react, her own electricity becoming victim to the magic of Wanda. Slowly, the crimson mixed with the electric blue, turning the glow into a purple magenta color. The violet burnt bright, cold blue at the center and rich red around the rim of the ball.

"Wanda, what is this?" she asked, her brown orbs wide as she stared between Wanda and the ball of condensed magic and electricity in her palm. "What have we done?"

Wanda smiled; a smile that meant more than anything. They were like a puzzle, once broken and now put together. What had been so brutally given to them through force and blood resulted in their kinship. They were a force to be reckoned with now, and nothing could stand in their way.

Now here I have established how Wanda and Addie will work together. You can all probably guess how.