#and then..sonny sings another one about how sad he is that she's leaving. and then i think almost tries to kill himself again

[itsdappleagain]

a tale as old as time: a neurodivergent suicidal artist bro and the centuries old greek goddess who comes down to earth to inspire him. they might kiss. if they do that the muse might get executed by her own father. and the artist might as a result kill himself. but they might kiss

[amethystroselilith]

Intertwined Fates (Chilumi/Zhonglumi) - Chapter 4

Free from uni for now... Hopefully I can write more! Thank you for waiting patiently!

Can be read in ao3 here

SUMMARY:  As Ajax looks forward to their future, someone from the past awakens...

“You know, just because I said I wanted more kids, doesn’t mean we have to do it like every night… or whenever we’re alone…” Lumine gave out a slight moan in the end when she felt her lover suck that sensitive mark on her neck, “Ajax, it’s too early in the morning and I need to walk today.” she whined, gasping when he bit her softly.

“Sorry, you look too delicious.” Ajax grinned, letting go of her so she could roll on her back to look at him with a pout.

“Same excuses.” Lumine playfully rolled her eyes, “Anyway… do you think she’s ready for school?”

Lumine felt Ajax tensed, letting out a sigh when she saw his shoulder trembling, “Oh my god, Ajax, please…”

“My baby girl is growing too fast.” his voice cracked.

Ever since Lumine reminded Ajax about Qiqi starting school a week ago, the man had been a bit emotional. Coddling the child ever since and keep asking if she’s ready, and it’s totally fine if she doesn't want to and he can just hire a private tutor for her. Lumine had to hit him at the back of the head saying that it’s important for their child to learn how to socialise.

“Lumi, our baby will be surrounded by boys! I can’t handle the thought of giving my princess away, Lumi, I can’t!”

“Ajax, she’s 5.”

“I can’t, Lumi!”

Lumine isn’t gonna lie, she’s also worried about how Qiqi would fare being with other kids considering she hadn’t interacted with kids her age.

But this should be it, right? The right time for Qiqi to meet and interact with other children.

The blonde also has that anxiety within her, what if someone’s mean to her child? Crush Qiqi’s dreams of having playmates?

Qiqi isn’t sure what she’s getting into, but as her parents explained what school was, there was excitement in her eyes as they talked about the various learning activities it has.

Besides, the pre-school was only a couple blocks away from their bakery, Lumine should be able to be by her side when needed.

“Lumi, what if our Qiqi falls in love? And that punk beaks her heart? She would be safer here, I already have the best tutor in mind.” Ajax tries to convince her.

“Ajax, for the last time, no one’s falling in love with anyone.” Lumine groaned, “And if it’ll make you feel better, the class has more girls than boys.”

“...What if she likes girls?”

“Then we love her just as much, but for fuck sake, Ajax, they’re kids. Worry when she’s in high school or college.” Lumine rolled her eyes, only to regret it when Ajax gave her a horrified look.

“I don’t want my baby to grow up.” he cried.

“Ajax, we can’t stop the cycle of life…” Lumine sighed, it’s too early to deal with this.

“So that’s why we should make more babies.” Ajax grinned, only to be hit by a pillow on the face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to check on Qiqi before dealing with any more of your bullshit this early morning,” Lumine said with a chuckle.

“Baaabe, homeschooling isn’t so bad!” Ajax called out for her only to receive an eye roll.

He pouted and decided to get ready himself, Qiqi’s going to school, he doesn’t need to work from home anymore. So it’s back to the office with him, back to dealing with his insufferable co-workers, especially the midget.

With that thought, he got up from the bed with an annoyed groan.

~~~

“Bye, bye, Papa. Love you.” Qiqi said, kissing his cheek before getting out of the car and grabbing her mother’s waiting hand.

“Bye, sweetie, have fun at school, okay? And if someone hurts you, tell Papa so I can take care of it, okay? Papa loves you.” Ajax smiled, earning a scoff from Lumine.

“Don’t teach our child violence this early.” she tsked before leaning in the car window, “Good luck at work and don’t kill anyone. I love you,” she said before pecking his lips goodbye.

“Hm, I’ll try not to make Mona a widow.” he grinned, “Bye, see you tonight. I love you too.” Ajax said, waiting and watching his girls to make sure they’ll be fine before driving off to his office.

Despite still being anxious for his daughter’s first day of school, he can’t help but fall in love with their new routine already. Him making their breakfast while Lumine prepares Qiqi for school, him dropping them off at the bakery, Lumine walking Qiqi the few minutes walk to her preschool. They all do their day until Qiqi’s done with preschool by 12 noon, Lumine picking her up and staying at the bakery until it’s time for Ajax to pick them up and go back home.

He can’t wait until more of his future kids join their routine.

Ajax is never trading this life for anything.

~~~

“Thank you, and have fun with your new kite!” the brunette smiled softly as he handed the kite to the child.

“Thank you, Mister! Thank you, Dad!” the little girl grinned, jumping excitedly as she hugged the toy to her chest, “Let’s go to the park! I wanna see the fairy fly!” she pulled her father out of the store.

The father just gave the employee a smile and wave before he’s led out by his daughter.

“Isn’t it nice seeing their little smiles? So bright and hopeful.” the old owner chuckled as she rearranged the toys on display.

“It is a great feeling.” he smiled.

He wondered how the father feels seeing his child happy, it must be a wonderful feeling .

Does he have a child of his own?

As he wrecked his mind for anything, he came up with nothing.

Looking at the golden band on his finger, he wonders yet again about the blonde woman who seemed etched in his mind.

“Ah, Zhongli, don’t you worry. My grandson is good with computers, I’m sure we’ll find her soon.” Granny Shan encouraged as she saw the look on his face again.

Zhongli forced out a smile, “Thank you, Granny Shan.”

It’s been a week since he awakened.

A week since it was explained that he ended up in a coma after being in a plane accident. Granny Shan had been his saviour, had taken him under her care, even transported his comatose body in this region when she moved to build another toy store. When asked why Granny Shan just gave a sad smile and talks about how he reminded her of her son whom she lost from an accident as well

Zhongli thinks she’s lucky to find an empty lot close to a preschool. He could imagine kids dragging their parents here when they’re let out.

Still, a week had gone by and still no memories coming back. All he knows is his name thanks to the ID he had on him, unfortunately, most of the information had been scratched off, or made unreadable thanks to being submerged in a puddle for too long before he was found, and the fact that he’s married because he has a ring on him. He could only assume the beautiful blonde woman is his wife, why else would he keep dreaming of coming back to her?

The lack of information on himself forced him to stay with Granny Shan. Choosing to help her after he recovered enough to do so while at the same time, doing all he can to remember.

While Granny Shan would contact her grandson and would receive a list of profiles, but none of them had been her.

Zhongli doesn’t blame him though, all he could offer him was her physical appearance, which is so hard to track down without any name to refer to. Not to mention her grandson isn’t even a part of a government organisation that would be able to get a hold of registered citizens, he was an IT, but the fact that he helps a stranger like Zhongli makes him a hero in Zhongli’s eyes.

And he wishes no further to burden them with his problems, but unfortunately, he can’t do anything but help around the toy store.

Though as much as he would like to come home, 5 years is a pretty long time.

How is she now?

Where is she now?

What is she doing now?

Upon finding out that he had been in a coma for five years, Zhongli vomited. It was a lot to take in and the fact that he can’t remember anything is very overwhelming and frustrating.

He was depressed for days, recovering and getting back on his feet just last night and asking Granny Shan if he could help because the blonde woman was encouraging him, asking him to come back to her.

She would sing sweetly for him, yet he can’t remember the lyrics as soon as he woke up.

Waking up without her had been torture for Zhongli so far, the need to be with her is growing stronger by the day, and he doesn’t know just how long he can wait until he breaks and go crazy chasing after a woman he doesn’t even know still exist.

His eyes widened at the thought, quickly shaking it off as he felt his heart race anxiously and his stomach churning badly.

Of course, she exists, why else would she keep asking him to come home?

His head began to ache, and it seemed it shows since Granny Shan is walking to him with a worried face, “Maybe it’s time for a break, yeah? Do you have a headache?”

Zhongli shook his head, “I’m fine don’t worry,” he smiled, “I should be fine if I drink-”

“I’ll make you some tea.”

“Please, I don’t want to bother-”

“Sonny, it’s fine, making tea should be easy for an old lady like me rather than having to man the cashier, don’t you think so? It’s almost noon, meaning kids might be filling the store soon.” Granny Shan explained with a smile, “Now just wait there, okay?”

Zhongli nodded in defeat, “Alright.”

Granny Shan then left to go to the back, where it functions as their home. It’s a decent size with 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom.

The man busies himself with rechecking the toys displayed, making sure they’re properly placed that children can see them. He sweeps for a few, just waiting for the time to pass by. He may have started working today, but he could hear the commotion before when it reaches noon as the store is filled with customers. It made him feel bad thinking about leaving the old lady alone, but there was nothing he could do about it but work his best.

It soon struck 12 and as expected, the small preschool across the street had released their students. Zhongli straightened up, preparing to greet customers as he already saw some kids dragging their parents in their shop. He watched as some kids threw tantrums when their parents denied them, some making their way excitedly to his shop, there were already two little girls looking at the display. The blonde one with elven ears pointed at a little plushie resembled some kind of a rabbit inside a red bag, her red eyes sparkling as she talks to the other girl. Zhongli can’t help but smile at her friend’s reaction, her magenta eyes wide with fascination as she listens to her talk.

They then met eyes, Zhongli smiling brightly with a small wave, making the girl return the gesture with a wide smile.

He also waved at the little blonde girl who is now tugging at the older blonde guy they were with.

“Albedo-oniichan, let’s get it, please! Pleaaaseee!” he can hear her behind the window, “Klee has been very good! Klee didn’t get sent to the corner by Ms Jean! Please, please, please!”

The man Zhongli assumed as Albedo smiled softly, “Well since you didn’t cause trouble, let’s go.”

Klee squealed in excitement, and seemed like was about to invite her friend, but it looks like the purple-haired girl was looking at someone who Zhongli couldn’t see.

Zhongli assumed it was her parents or guardian picking her up since she waved goodbye to her friend. He was a bit taken back when she turned to him and waved goodbye to him as well, but he returned the gesture with a smile.

For some reason, he felt some sort of happiness for the little girl.

He didn’t get to think much of it since customers had started pouring inside.

~~~

Zhongli once again smiled at the little purple-haired girl when she passed by the shop again. It had been 4 days so far and they had always been waving at each other when they passed by.

“Does that girl not have a guardian with her? I don’t think I’ve seen her with an adult.” Zhongli hummed as he cleans the shelves.

“Hm? The purple-haired one? Ah, her mother works at the bakery a couple of blocks away, it’s a few minutes walk, 2 or 3 at most. She only needs to step out of the bakery and watch from there, so she’s completely safe.” Granny Shan explained, “They have great pastries, by the way, I brought one home earlier, seems like a new product of theirs, feel free to eat them, they’re in the fridge.”

“Ah, it’s nice that their workplace is close to her school.” Zhongli hummed, a sudden craving for pastries appeared, and a specific sort of flavour too.

Zhongli ignored the craving, not wanting to leave the old woman alone with cleaning.

“Quite an adorable family too, I met her husband as well, a protective father he is.” she chuckled.

Zhongli can’t help but wonder, if he has a child, what kind of father was he?

He hopes they’re doing well if he does have. What a shame it was that he suddenly disappeared from their lives.

A longing feeling blossomed in his chest again, oh how he would love to meet the blonde goddess in his dreams, how elated he will be to find out if she bore his child.

“Say, Granny Shan, weren’t you saying about giving me a salary?”

“Hm? Did you change your mind about not getting them?” Granny Shan hummed.

“No, but shall I use that to buy that big finch plushie?” Zhongli asked, remembering how the little girl’s eyes would look at the bird-shaped stuffed toy longingly.

Granny Shan smiled, knowing exactly what he’s thinking, “Of course.” she chuckled, “Have you grown attached to the little girl already? It hasn’t been long nor did you two ever talk. It’s a shame I forgot her name, my memory isn’t the best.”

Zhongli smiled embarrassingly, “I just feel a bit bad, she’s been eyeing the toy ever since. Though, I’m a bit worried what her parents would think.”

The old lady waved him off, “Don’t worry about that, just put on our card so they know it’s from here, they know me there and that I own this place.”

Zhongli's smile brightened, “Thank you!”

He can’t wait to make a kid’s day bright.

~~~

The very next day, Zhongli waited for the little girl to pass again, he doesn’t know why but he felt so excited.

Just like on routine, she passed by again, and instead of waving, Zhongli gestured for her to wait. She listened, having been familiar with the old lady who owned the store, that’s why her mother didn’t have to wait for her outside. Granny Shan had been the one watching over her since Zhongli had been doing most of the work inside the store.

She gasped when Zhongli showed her the toy she’d been eyeing her. She immediately hugged it when handed to her, Zhongli can’t help but be in awe at the appreciative gesture.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she jumped, hugging the plushie half her size.

Granny Shan can’t help but smile at the interaction, oh how she wishes Zhongli would be able to find his home with his family.

“It’s no problem, little one. I hope you take good care of them.” Zhongli smiled.

“Qiqi will name him Mr Finch.” the girl said.

Qiqi

There was a sudden pain in Zhongli’s head, not wanting to scare the little girl, he hid the pain.

“Well, I’m glad Mr Finch is in capable hands.” he smiled through the pain.

“Qiqi can’t wait until Mama and Papa meet him! Thank you, Mr!” Qiqi said once again before she had to make her way to her mother’s bakery.

As soon as Qiqi is far enough, Zhongli releases a groan as he rubs his temples.

“Something wrong?” Granny Shan asked with worry as she followed Zhongli inside.

“It’s probably just the heat or something.” Zhongli reassured, “It should be fine after taking a break.”

Granny Shan nodded, “Well, the day should be slow now, go on and take a break. You can even walk outside? The fresh air should be good for you.” she smiled.

Zhongli nodded at the suggestion before going back to his room.

As he lay down on his bed, he can’t help but think about what had happened.

Qiqi

The name tugged something in his chest, but he just can’t understand what it is.

He took a deep breath to ease his headache, maybe he should go for a walk after a nap.

[neverbacksdown7476]

Don’t Say It (Part 6)

Warnings: Angst

Part 5     Part 7

Pancakes heated slowly in the pan, but the smell of bacon flooded the apartment, with music coming quietly from your phone. Though you weren’t singing and dancing around in your underwear like girls always seemed to do in the movies, you were just taking the time to enjoy your Sunday. It wasn’t often for you to have an actual day off, without having to worry about scrambling to finish paperwork. You were so relieved, in fact, that you didn’t hear Barba walking up behind you.

“It smells good.” Barba said wrapping his arms around your waist, gently placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Well, I hope it tastes good then.” Your face started heating up, turning a late shade of pink. This whole thing with Barba was still really new, a week to be precise. The two of you had decided to start dating secretly, until you could become your own ADA, without Barba having to watch over you constantly.

“I’m sure it will.” Barba said, setting the table as the food finished cooking. The two filled their plates, and sat down to eat.

“So, would you like to do something today?” Barba asked

“What? Like watch television?”

“No, like go to a museum, the park, or if you want to the movies.”

“So like a date?” You almost choked on a piece of pancake.

“Only if you want.” Barba stifled a laugh

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting that.” You explained, taking a drink of water. “Yeah, let’s do something.” You were able to regain your composer. “The park sounds nice.” Barba smiled kindly at you, as you two finished eating.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to get ready. You wore light colored jeans, dark blue blouse, and black flats. A cute, but casual look. Barba on pretty much the same hand was wearing dark colored jeans, nice loafers, and a maroon long sleeved shirt. Even while living with Barba it was strange to see him in anything other than a suit and suspenders.

“I think this is the first time since getting hired on at the DA’s office that I haven’t been working.” You said as Barba walked up to you.

“Well it happens once in a blue moon.” Barba slowly reached his hand out taking your hand in his. It all seemed so surreal. The magic ended as fast as it had started when your phone started ringing. You sighed, reaching into your back pocket and pulling out your phone.

“Hello?” You answered the phone.

“Y/N, hey, you need to come to the precinct.” Sonny’s voice came over the phone.

“Don’t you usually call Barba when you need someone to come in?” You asked, and watched as Barba’s head fell back with a silent sigh. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you into his chest.

“He will get a call too, but Y/N, it’s David.”

“David, as in, my brother David?” You asked pushing away from Barba. This is when Barba’s phone started ringing. You only saw his face for a second, but it was plastered with a confused look. Not having time to worry about that, you rushed away from Barba in hopes Sonny wouldn’t hear the phone ringing or the man talking. If Sonny did hear anything, he  was kind enough not to ask.

“Yeah, and hurry, it doesn’t look good.” With that Sonny hung up the phone, and you looked at Barba with a somber look.

----

You rushed from the elevator into the squad room, leaving Barba in your dust. Sonny was the first one to come up to you, stopping you before you got too far ahead of yourself.

“Sonny, I need to see David, now!” You tried getting past him.

“I’ve already told him not to talk to anyone until his lawyer gets here.”

“Yeah, I called one on my way over, but I’d like to talk to my brother until then.”

“No, you will not. There is no such thing as brother-sister confidentiality.” Barba advised, walking into the squad room. “And you know that.” He finished, and you sucked in a deep breath trying to calm yourself down. He was right, of course he was right, you just needed to calm down. “Walk me through what we have, and technically Y/N should not be here, so she is not hearing any of this.”

“Right.” Sonny agreed shooting a look between the two of you, before leading you to the white board where everyone sat. Eyes glanced up at you, but it seemed to take forever before someone finally spoke up.

“Erica Walker came to us yesterday, claiming she was assaulted two months ago. After talking to her she said David Y/L/N was the one who had assaulted her.” Fin spoke first, apparently the bravest of the squad, or he just didn’t care about the personal aspect.

“Two months ago? So I’m assuming there is no DNA.” You blurted out, ignoring the look you for from Barba, and the look Benson flashed him.

“Well, no,” Benson focused her attention back on you.

“Then why is my brother already in police custody waiting on an attorney?” You asked snapping your head to the side, as Sonny put a hand on her shoulder in attempts to calm you down.

“That’s what I’m wondering.” A familiar voice came from behind you. All eyes fell on Rita, a lawyer everyone knew all too well.

“There is a witness.” Sonny said, tightening his grip on your shoulder just a little.

“I’d like to talk to my client.” Rita sighed slightly

“Very well, you can let him know he’ll be transferred to the tombs tomorrow.” Benson said, as she broke away from the group, leading Rita to interrogation.

“Alright, you need to go,” Barba told her.

“What? No, David is still-” You started, but was interrupted.

“Not right now. You will have your chance to talk to him, but this is not the time, nor the place. You need to go home.”

“Carisi, why don’t you take Y/L/N home.” Dodds spoke up, probably to ease the tension in the air.

“Right,” Sonny put his arm around your shoulders, guiding you out of the squad room.

---

Three days had gone by, seventy-two hours. Your phone had been blowing up with texts, and phone calls from family and friends. Everyone wanted to know what was going on. You didn’t have any answers though. David claimed he had consentual sex with this girl. The girl claims she didn’t want to, that he forced her. There was also surveillance video of the two of them leaving together.There was another girl who said she heard this girl crying and saying ‘no.’ Rita talked about taking a plea, but it would put him on the registry, and in jail for five years. David didn’t want to take the plea, even though you told him to.

So your phone layed on the other side of the room, buzzing aimlessly. You just laid on the couch, where you had hardly moved from in the last three days. You had moved back home, even though the threats haven’t stopped. You couldn’t take the chance of going to Barba’s though, because Sonny had been coming over almost non-stop.

“Y/N, open up.” A voice came from behind the door along with a knock, but you just ignored it hoping he would just go away. “I know you are in there.” Sonny yelled through the door, so with a loud groan you for up and answered the door.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to keep coming over.” You told him as you walked back to the couch.

“You didn’t show up for David’s arraignment.” Sonny walked into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

“Nope,”

“Why not? Your parents, and brothers seemed pretty upset.”

“That is probably why my phone has been ringing more than usual.” Sonny let out an exasperated sigh as someone else started knocking on the door. “And why everyone keeps showing up.” You didn’t budge, so Sonny went to answer the door. Okay, so you might have been acting just a little childish, but you were so tired. Tired of people bothering you.

“Barba funny seeing you here.” Sonny said as he looked back at you.

“I came to let Y/N know bail was set at $100,000, which he has already made.” He walked past Sonny, setting his briefcase on the coffee table, and sitting next to you on the couch. “Also to see what’s going on with you.”

“I’m fine.” You said, looking away from him. Staring at the ground, because that was the only place you could look where there weren’t eyes staring back at you. The DA had given you the week off, and with you back at your own apartment you hadn’t seen Barba in three days. So things were really tense between the two of you.

“No you’re not.” Sonny interjected sitting on the coffee table, right in front of you. You didn’t know what to tell them, how to explain to them the feeling of overwhelming fear and sadness for your brother. Your emotions welled up in you, and tears burned the back of your throat. You put your hands on your shoulders, as if you were hugging yourself, trying to comfort yourself.

“He’s my brother.” Your blurted out as the tears started pouring down your cheeks. “I help put away rapists, but now my little brother is being accused of being one. Even worse, I can’t help him.” You cried, and hung your head, whether in shame or just trying to hide the tears.

“It’s going to be okay, we are going to figure this out, together.” Barba said, putting his arm around you, pulling you into a hug, and letting you bury your face in his chest.

@scarletsoldierrr

[lovemesomerafael]

El Amor Todo Lo Puede          Chapter 56:  Home

Source:  @peter-stone

Chapters 1-55

Laura knocked quietly on the door of Lucia’s apartment in the Bronx, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and sadness.  They had kept in touch, of course, for the two years Laura had been away, although after those first, hellish months, they hadn’t spoken quite as often.  Laura fully expected that they would spend time during this visit crying over their mutual loss, and she didn’t dread that. In fact, she and Lucia hadn’t been able to hug while they cried in all the time Laura had been gone.  Since the crying part was probably inevitable, Laura thought it would be nice to be able to put her arms around Rafael’s mother while they shared their pain.  

Lucia had tried to understand Laura’s need to run away.  At first, she had been confused and a bit hurt that Laura wouldn’t be in New York, where they could comfort one another.  Over the two weeks after Rafi’s death, however, as they had worked feverishly together to do all the horrible tasks that have to be done when someone dies, Lucia had seen in Laura a fear that she herself didn’t feel.  Laura was not only grieving the past, she was also terrified of the future.  Lucia wasn’t. Partly, the difference was that Laura was young, and had to figure out who to be, now that she had been left without the partner she’d chosen to spend her life with.  Rafael’s death had fundamentally changed who Laura was.  That wasn’t true for Lucia.  Losing her child, adult though he had been, didn’t change Lucia’s identity as his mother.  The other difference was that having another child wasn’t an option for Lucia, so she didn’t have to find the courage to try again.  

Over the past two years, something had happened that neither of them had expected.  As much as they had liked being mother- and daughter-in-law, they found that they also enjoyed being friends.  Lucia still felt motherly toward Laura, who also loved Lucia like a second mother.  But helping one another through their greatest loss had also forged a deep, lasting friendship between them as women.  Rafael was always there, between them, a shared love that united them.  But they found that, slowly and in stages, their conversations branched out to involve the rest of their lives, as well.  It was a lovely connection that allowed them to keep Rafael close – the two women who had loved him the most – and also allowed each of them to enjoy the other for her own sake.

When Lucia opened the door, she and Laura hugged (and cried) for a very long time before Laura even crossed the threshold.

 *************

Dinner at Amanda’s had started at breakfast time.  Laura wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friends from SVU, so they’d arranged to meet at the zoo in Central Park, where the kids could play while the parents talked.  Laura was shocked by how much they’d grown; both Fin’s grandson, Jaden, and Amanda’s daughter, Billie, were talking already.  They weren’t speaking full sentences, but they were certainly able to make their needs known.  Amanda’s daughter Jessie and Olivia’s son Noah both had vague memories that they had an “Aunt Lala”, but had really been too young to remember Laura.  It was great fun to get re-acquainted with them, and to discover Jaden’s and Billie’s personalities, made easier by the fact that Sonny Carisi was, by far, the kids’ favorite person and knew everything about them.   As soon as they saw that Sonny liked Laura, they decided to like her, too.  

While the older kids ran around like maniacs and the littler ones alternated between mania and meltdowns, the adults caught up.  Laura had cried as soon as she saw Fin, which she’d known she would.  He tried to play it cool, but the tightness of his hug and the amount of time it lasted told her he was just as glad to see her.

“Any idea what you’re gonna do when you get back to Chicago?”  He asked.

“I have a few leads.  I really loved the work I did for the feds; I might want to do something with computer crimes.  Or maybe I’ll go to the dark side and make a mint working in cybersecurity.  Regular hours, no one shoots at me…”

“Yeah, but you’d never get to go off on anyone.  Remember Reginald Skoggs?  You love that shit,”  Fin laughed.

“Oh, man, I haven’t thought about him in years.  But you’re right, that was fun.  Remember I had to change my clothes before Barba saw all the blood?”  

Fin laughed at that, too, and Laura noticed that the whole group seemed to relax a little, knowing that it was all right to mention Rafael’s name.  

“What I remember is you still owe me fifty bucks for not tellin’ Barba what you did.”  

Laura feigned a blank look.  “I don’t remember that.”

“Yeah, sure you don’t.”  Fin threw an arm around her neck and gave her a rough hug.  “Punk-ass kid.”  

All morning and afternoon, the SVU detectives shared stories of cases they’d worked and listened as Laura told them what she’d been doing.  Laura wanted to hear every story about the kids.  They had so much to talk about that it was actually after lunch by the time the conversation neared the subject of Rafael’s murder.

Olivia moved so that she was walking next to Laura while they headed toward the Polar Circle, where the penguins – the kids’ favorite - lived.  

“I thought we’d get to see you for Randolph’s trial.  I wasn’t surprised to see him plead out, but I was sorry to miss out on a visit from you.”  

“Thanks, Lieu. I knew he’d take a plea.  McCoy was going to bury him no matter what, so I think he just figured he’d save himself the trouble.  For a sweet man, Jack McCoy can be a scary SOB when he’s crossed.”

“Yes, he can,” Olivia agreed.  

“Anyway, it was better that way.  I really wasn’t ready to come back until pretty recently.  In fact, I might have stayed longer, except…”

“Yeah, I heard. You know, until Rollins told me the whole story, I just thought you and Stone were oddly close.”  

“And you were right about that,” Laura laughed.  

While Jaden and Billie napped hard in their strollers, Fin sat with them and napped a little, too. Liv and Amanda kept a close eye on Jessie and Noah, and Laura and Carisi stood leaning on poured concrete rocks, watching the penguins.  

“So I’m looking at all these kinds of penguins, particularly the macaroni penguin, which is really the coolest of penguinkind, and I’m thinkin’ that right there is evidence that God has a sense of humor.”

“Hmmmm. Deep, Carisi.  I don’t disagree, but I’m thinking whoever named them macaroni penguins gets an honorable mention.”

“Yeah, I could go there,” Sonny shrugged.  “And since you didn’t throw me over these rocks into the water, I hope that means that maybe you and God have made up a little?”  

Laura thought for a minute.  “There was this priest in Stockholm, Father Piär. He helped.  Probably not as much as you, but he did OK.”  She bumped Carisi fondly with her shoulder.  

“I don’t know that I helped any, but thanks.”

“Sure you did.  And I appreciate it.  I owe you.” Laura didn’t want the day to turn maudlin, so she changed the subject.  “So I noticed in your emails, you never mentioned any dates.  You didn’t become a monk or something, did you?”  

“Nah,” Sonny blushed.  “I just like to play things close to the vest, y’know?”

“Well, don’t. Tell me.  I want to know you’re happy.”

The smile on Sonny’s face, and the crinkles around his bright blue eyes told Laura that he would never want for romantic companionship for long.  “There’s no one special right now, but…  I’ve kinda been thinkin’ I’m getting a little old for dates.  Dean got married, you know.”

“I hadn’t heard that!”

“Yeah, married a surgeon.  They’re in L.A. now.  Anyway, I’ve been thinking I might be in the market for someone, you know, more permanent.”

“Any candidates?”

“Not right now. But who knows?”

“Just don’t get serious about anyone until I get to check them out.  Don’t rely solely on Amanda’s judgment.”

“If I have to wait until Amanda approves someone, I might as well hang it up right now.”

The rest of the afternoon went on like that, everyone enjoying the day and Laura getting a chance to talk one-on-one with each of them.

At dinner, there was plenty of wine and entirely too much food.  Sonny made something no one could pronounce, but it was so good everyone ate until they couldn’t possibly take one more bite.  Lucia joined them, and they all enjoyed themselves.  To Laura, it felt as though she’d never been away, which was just a little bittersweet, because it meant she kept expecting Rafael to walk in at any time.  

There was a sweet moment when Olivia was telling a story about an argument she and Rafael had, and Noah asked, “Is Rafael the same as Uncle Rafa?”  

Olivia told him that he was.

“I ‘member him,” Noah said.  “He used to sing the pirate song.”  

As much as Laura had needed to leave New York to escape the constant reminders of Rafael, it was lovely, now that she could, to be able to talk about him with people who had known and loved him.  There were a hundred stories about funny, biting comments he had made, demonstrations of his undeniable abilities, and his courtroom coups.  Lucia told some hilarious, adorable stories about him as a child that he would never have allowed her to tell, had he been there.  They all laughed, and shed a few tears, and toasted his memory.  The entire day was as special as any of them had hoped, and it was a perfect way for Laura to acknowledge the life she had loved in New York before she went on to begin a new life back in Chicago.

Amanda waited with Laura and Lucia at the curb for their taxi back to the Bronx.  She and Laura had exchanged many hugs throughout the day, but it still didn’t feel like enough.  They sat, side by side on Amanda’s stoop, with Amanda’s arm around Laura’s shoulder.

“Just remember, you need me to shoot Stone, I can make it look like an accident.”

“I thought it was Rafael you offered to shoot.”

“It was, but you never took me up on it, so I still owe you.  But I’m kinda hopin’ you don’t ever need me to shoot Stone, either.  ‘Cuz you look happy.  And I like seein’ that.”

“Me, too.”

“You take care of yourself, Parker.  You know you always have a home here, if you want it.”

They hugged yet again, both smiling, and Amanda pulled Lucia into the hug with them.

**********

The flight from New York to Chicago had seemed very short after the flight from Stockholm. And now, Laura was home.  She smiled even as tears spilled over, looking out the window of the airplane at the familiar landscape.  

She walked through the concourse toward Baggage Claim.  She reached the main terminal, passed the security checkpoint, and descended the stairs toward the row of baggage carousels, some surrounded by people and spitting out luggage which then circled slowly, some still and silent.  She idly looked out over the scene as she walked down the stairs.

She froze on the last step, her heart doing some sort of somersault in her chest and a large swarm of butterflies taking sudden flight in her stomach.  She whispered an involuntary, "Peter."

She stood, unmoving, staring at the tall, beautiful man standing near the baggage carousel for her flight.  As always, his muscular, athletic build and his square, masculine jaw stirred a deep longing in her.  She stared almost helplessly at him, just as she had done that day years before, when she saw him in the lobby at District 21, waiting for an appointment with Sergeant Voight.  She realized with a surge of love that the pain of missing Peter was over.  She was home now, with him, and there was no longer anything to keep them apart.

His hair was longer than it had been when she’d last seen him.  It looked so good she instantly wanted to run her hands through it. Had he let it grow for her, knowing she liked it that way?  Only when he looked up at her, perhaps sensing her staring at him, did Laura take the last stair and begin to move through the crowd toward him as his face broke into a wide smile.

They didn’t say anything at first as they came face to face, just took a moment to smiled at one another before they wrapped their arms around each other in a long, contented embrace.  People looked at them, some annoyed at these fools locked in a marathon hug in the middle of baggage claim, some grinning shyly at the apparently very happy reunion. Peter and Laura ignored them all. Somewhere in the middle of their embrace, they began to share whispered “I love you’s” among heartfelt endearments.

There were plenty of kisses and laughing as they collected Laura’s luggage and walked, talking animatedly, out to Peter’s car.  With so much to carry - suitcases, Laura’s guitar, her carry-on - they hadn’t been able to hold hands or put arms around each other as they walked, and with each step, Laura found herself more aware of wanting to touch Peter.  She noticed again his hair, just a bit shaggy, and the way it made her think of him in bed.  She watched the sexy way he walked, so athletic and confident, legs wide and striding quickly.  As Peter stored the luggage in the back of a new SUV he’d purchased at some point after he’d returned from New York, Laura stood close to him, just wanting to be near him and eager to have her arms around him again.  

He slammed the gate down and pulled her to him.  As he leaned down to press his lips to hers, she breathed in his scent: a clean, masculine smell of soap and a little bit of musky cologne highlighting a warmer, savory essence that Laura thought of as just plain man.  She reached up, sliding one hand into the hair at the back of his head and using the other to hold him close.  As their mouths met in heated haste, Peter’s arms encircling Laura completely, she felt herself pressed against the back of the vehicle.  She moved her legs to more fully melt their bodies together, feeling lust overcoming her sense of anything beyond Peter. He felt warm and firm, large and muscular, the beginnings of his erection evident as he moved against her.

He broke the kiss when they started to lose control of the sounds being drawn from them and the wantonness of their hip movements.  

“Get in the car,” he growled, and they quickly separated to slide into their seats.  Before even thinking about putting on seat belts, they turned to each other and their mouths met once again for the kind of kisses they really wanted, but couldn’t indulge in publicly.  Their intimate caresses became quickly more serious, more heated, and soon they were both moaning as Peter’s tongue teased Laura’s. Minutes later, Laura slid a hand up the inside of Peter’s thigh.  

He took her hand from his leg, lifting it to his lips and kissing her fingers, chuckling.  “You missed me.”

“I missed you like crazy.  And I want you.  Let me…”

“Not here.”

“Please?  We could get in the back…”

“I am not going to have sex with you in an airport parking garage,” Peter said, a little more gruffly than he meant to, because he was having some trouble resisting her suggestion in his current agitated state.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.  I think it was even this garage.  Remember when you went -“

“That was…  We were in our twenties then.”  He consciously tried to slow his breathing.

“And?  What are you, a grown-up now?”  Laura leaned in and began kissing Peter’s neck, slipping her hand from his and reaching toward his crotch.  “Come on.  I love you, and I’ve been thinking about you nonstop.  Let me touch you…” she purred.

“Stop,” he said, laughing but taking her hand again.  “I mean it.  You can do anything you want to me when we get home.  Now behave.”

She moved back into her seat, pretending to be grumpy as she fastened her seat belt.  “Behave.  Since when have I ever behaved?”  

“Just be patient. I’ll make it worth your while.”  Peter gave her a look that did nothing to cool her arousal.  “I promise.”

Seeing that he wasn’t going to relent, Laura settled into her seat, smiling contentedly. “It’s good to be home.”

“It’s good to have you home,” Peter agreed, reaching for her hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.  

The city looked beautiful to Laura, even in the dreariness of late fall.  There was a weak sunlight through breaks in the clouds, and there were still some trees with bright fall foliage here and there. Mostly, the city looked good to her because she had been homesick.  She noticed a new building going up on the downtown skyline and pointed it out to Peter, asking where, exactly, it was.  When he told her, she scrunched up her eyebrows.  “Wait, doesn’t that mean… didn’t you miss your exit?  I thought you lived in the Fulton River District.”

“I did,” he responded, looking at the road.  “I moved.”

“You moved? You didn’t tell me you moved.  When did you move?”

“A few months ago. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No.  How do you move, and not tell me?”

“I must’ve forgot. I told you, I’ve been crazy busy these last few months.”

Laura frowned. This was strange.  Moving is not something you forget to mention.  “Where do you live now?”

“Wilmette.”

“Wilmette!  You do not.”

Peter smiled and chuckled a little, but kept his eyes on the road.  “I do, actually.  You’ll see.”

“Peter, you… that’s… I can’t believe you moved to Wilmette and didn’t tell me.”

“I thought you liked Wilmette?”

“I do.  We both do.  Remember, we used to talk about living there someday.  That’s why I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry, Sunshine.  Really.  I guess I thought I had.”  He lifted her hand from the console where their clasped hands had been resting and kissed it for about the hundredth time since they’d left O’Hare.

Laura shrugged slightly, but she was still uneasy.  He had told her that he’d been extremely busy over the months since he’d visited her in Stockholm, and with all that had happened between them, maybe he really had forgotten. But it still struck her as a very strange thing not to mention.

Several miles later, Peter exited the freeway and drove through the Village of Wilmette, a clean, leafy, cute midwestern town with lots of small shops and other businesses lining the streets.  He turned into a neighborhood of pretty houses, many of them brick, all set back from the street behind well-maintained front lawns with trees and shrubs.  Most of the houses had flower gardens up next to their foundations, although this late in the year there weren’t any flowers blooming.  He turned into an idyllic, peaceful street and began to slow down.

“You’re messing with me,” she said.  “You bought a house?”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling over against the curb.  “We’re here.”  

The house he pointed to was two a story brick, with copper awnings covered with verdigris over bay windows, one on either side of a rounded front door that sat at the top of a set of two steps.  There was a little patio in front of the door with wrought iron railings on either side. There was a chimney to one side, and it looked like there was another chimney at the back.  Peter got out of the car and came around to open Laura’s door as she simply sat and stared.

“Do you like it?”  He asked, a sweet, expectant smile on his face that almost hid a glint of mischief in his eyes.  

Laura stepped out onto the curb and stood, looking at the charming house.  “You didn’t forget to tell me you bought a house.”

He shrugged, pleased with her reaction.  “Maybe not. Maybe I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Peter, this is your house?  It’s beautiful!  It’s perfect! You really live here?”

“Got the mortgage to prove it,” he said, taking her hand.  “C’mon.  I want to show it to you.  We’ll get the luggage later.”  

When they reached the door, he opened it and then turned to her and lifted her up with one arm behind her back and one behind her legs.  

“What are you doing?”

“I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

All Laura could think to do was laugh.  This was… bizarre.  Unreal.

They stood in a small foyer with a flagstone floor, a little table with a lamp on it just inside.  Something about the table or the lamp, or maybe both, looked familiar to her, but she was so curious to see Peter’s house that she didn’t give it much thought.  The foyer gave onto a short hallway.

The first room they came to was a formal living room with a couch and some wingback chairs arranged around a fireplace.  There was something about the room that seemed…  Then she noticed the painting of a cottage in the English countryside over the fireplace. 

“I have that same painting,” she said, her voice a little unsure.  “I’ve never noticed that in your apartments, did you just get it?”

“Sort of.  Let me show you the rest of the house.”

He led her past the living room to the end of the short hall, which opened onto a large, sunny great room at the back of the house.  The room had a pleasant kitchen separated by a span of granite countertop from a family area with another fireplace.  Laura was astounded, her head swimming at the surprise of Peter owning a house in Wilmette, and the perfectness of the house itself.  

“Oh, Peter, this is great!  It’s… I love it!  Is this actually a wood-burning fireplace?”

“Yep.”  

Again, Laura had an odd feeling about the room.  It seemed like she’d been there before. 

“This is so weird.  I’m having the weirdest sense of déjà vu.  I know I’ve never been here before…  Holy shit, I know what it is!”

She turned to him to find him grinning like a fool. 

“Peter, your house is just like the one we used to talk about.  Remember?  When we lived in that fifth-floor walk-up in Evanston.  Now all you need is a dog named Marshall.”

Peter, now actually laughing, cocked his head toward a sliding glass door that led from the kitchen out to a patio.  “Back yard.” 

Laura felt herself go numb.  Her eyes got big and she just stood where she was, a confused expression on her face.  Her voice was shaky as she asked, “What’s going on?”

Peter went to the door and opened it.  “Come on.  Meet Marshall.”

She almost stumbled as she moved, uncertain and overwhelmed, over to him.  He put an arm around her back, enjoying every second of her reaction, but a little worried this might all be a bit too much.  He led her out onto the wooden patio, which had two sets of steps down to a small back yard shielded from any neighbors by high hedges.  She noticed movement to one side, and her eyes fixed on a red doghouse from which a Yellow Labrador Retriever puppy was sleepily emerging.  The puppy saw Peter and ran to the stairs, a little small yet to climb them easily. 

“Oh, look at you!  You’re so cute!”  Laura hurried over to pick up the puppy, who immediately began to lick all over her face.  She looked at Peter, eyes still wide, confusion and disbelief still very much evident.  “How old is he?”

“She is about three months old.”

“You named a girl puppy Thurgood Marshall?”

“I had to.  That’s the name we picked out.”

“I… what?”

Laura had just enough presence of mind to notice that Peter’s smile was heartrendingly handsome.  He was looking at her, holding the puppy, as though he was a child on Christmas morning catching his first sight of what Santa had brought.

“C’mon, let’s sit here for a minute.”  He sat her down on the stairs that led from the deck to the yard and settled next to her, their legs touching for their full lengths and his arm around her.  

“You OK?”  He chuckled.

“I…  You bought a house.”  She looked up at him just as the shocked, confused look on her face was replaced by something else.  “That picture.”

“Hmmmm?”  He asked, grinning again.

“That’s mine, isn’t it?”

“It was.  Now it’s ours.”

“Did you…?  What did you do?”

“We moved you in.  Everything you had in storage, we moved in here.  This is your house.  Well, our house.”  The grin became a radiant smile.

“Our house.”

“That’s right.  You live here.  With me.”

Peter realized he should have found a way to record this moment.  Her face was registering every emotion that tumbled through her head. He would have liked to be able to watch it again and again, for the rest of his life.  

“But… Who’s ‘we’?  Who helped you move everything in?”

“Do you really have to ask that question?  I could never have finished getting everything ready for you if your whole family hadn’t helped.”

“Our family.”

“Our family.”

“I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what to say.  Peter, this is…”  She reached for him.  “I’ve been telling you for twenty years that I love you, but I’ve never loved you like I do now.  And not just because you bought me a house.  I don’t know how to say a bigger I love you, but… I love you bigger!  They don’t have a word for how I feel about you.  So how am I supposed to tell you?”  Laura’s eyes were overflowing with tears as she laughed into Peter’s shoulder.

“I know how,” he said quietly.

Marshall had been frolicking around their feet as they sat on the stair, and Peter reached out to her, taking hold of a little white ribbon tied to her collar, which Laura hadn’t really noticed.  He untied it and something that had been attached to it fell into his hand.  As he reached behind himself to take Laura’s left hand, she gasped. He pulled her hand to him and held a small gold band with a solitary diamond shining in the middle just off the end of her ring finger.

Laura laughed again through her tears and said, “Yes.  Yes, yes, YES!”

Peter laughed, too.  “Always so impatient.  I haven’t asked you yet.”

He took a deep breath, wanting to give this moment the seriousness it deserved.  As he looked into her eyes, he said, “I love you, Laura.  Will you marry me?  Will you make a family with me?  Be the mother of my children?” 

“Yes,” she whispered, suddenly unable to speak. 

She watched as he slipped the ring onto her finger.  “Peter,” she gasped, “Is this…  This is…  This is our ring.  From before.”

“Yeah, I know.  We’ll get a real one, I just needed one to propose with.”

“We will not get a real one,” she cried, suddenly finding her voice as she threw her arms around him again.  “This is the real one.  You kept this ring, all these years…  You will have to pry this ring off my finger.”

For the next several minutes, Marshall became increasingly excited because Peter and Laura were paying no attention to her.  They were too focused on each other, laughing, hugging, kissing, and telling each other over and over how much they loved each other.

“Peter, stop.  I can’t!  This is too much.  I’m gonna explode or have some sort of neurological event from happiness overload…”  Laura laughed breathlessly.  “How many of my dreams are you planning to make come true?

“All of them,” he answered.  “Didn’t I tell you?”

[jtrbluv]

misunderstood pt. 4 || jjk

•••

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing and slightly suggestive themes

word count: 1522

summary: what started as an immature bet soon spirals out of control in ways he could never imagine. what was he gonna do? she’s all that!au

A/N: school has made me have like 5 mental breakdowns already and i’m also sad cuz the next parts the last part >:(

PREVIOUS | NEXT

JUNGKOOK DREAM POV

“What the fuck is her problem? She goes popular overnight and she gets this once in a lifetime makeover? What does she want?” Jin bitches, leaving him in confusion.

“No, you don’t get it, I care about her.” Jungkook tells him, disgusted at his words.

“Damn Rose, he did exactly what you said he was gonna do.” you say to Rose, Jungkook’s head whipping around to you.

“Of course he did, he’s my creation after all, aren’t you Jungkook?” Rose boasted with a smile, looking to Jungkook.

“No, Y/N. Y/N! Y/N!!”

“Hey dude, calm down.” Jin told him, pushing him down onto the couch.

“He definitely had his moments, pretty entertaining,” you tease mocking his singing, “It’s beautiful life, beautiful day.” you sing as you and Rose burst out into a fit of laughter.

“AAAAAHHHHHH!!” Jungkook jolts up from his bed, sweat trickling down his forehead, face red with anger.

•••

Jisung entered the bathroom as the bell had signaled the beginning of lunch. A couple of thugs at the school noticed him and decided to mess with him.

“Hey Caprisung, whatchu up to sonny boi??” (ayeeeeeeee)

“Leave me alone.”

“You think your sister being nominated for prom queen makes you all that too? You’re funny kid.” one of them taunted him, pushing him against the wall as they spat in his face.

Jungkook walked through the hallway, pausing as he heard the sounds of familiar person getting bullied, Jisung?

He walked into the bathroom as he confronted the boys,

“Let go of him.”

“What are you gonna do about it prissy boy?”

“You don’t wanna know. I’m warning you now before I do something you’ll both regret.” Jungkook growled, muscles tensing, jaw clenching as he curled up his fists, his eyes shot daggers at the boys who stood in front of him frozen in shock.

“Okay man, we’ll stop.”

“Say sorry to him.”

“Sorry.” they both apologized in unison as Jisung stood behind Jungkook in awe.

“One thing before you leave, ” Jungkook stopped them, a devilish grin making way across his face, “strip.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Does it look like I’m kidding? Strip.” Jungkook spat, eyes speaking so much more for himself than anything.

The boys stood frozen in fear as they slowly started to strip off their clothes.

“No! Keep the undies dude!” Jungkook quickly interrupted them when of them slowly started to strip bare.

Jungkook stuck his hands out when they were done, “Give me the clothes.”

The boys complied sticking their clothes in his hands, as Jungkook opened the nearest stall and dropped the clothes into the toilet.

“Have a nice day boys. Hope you think again before messing with my boy Jisung here.” Jungkook warned as he stuck his arm around Jisung’s shoulder.

“Oh my god! Look!” you heard someone say as they pointed to the boy’s bathroom. Two troublemakers you tended to see walked straight out of the bathroom naked.

Right behind them were, Jungkook and Jisung smiliing and giggling, oh fuck no.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing or am I going crazy?” Jaebum stood next to your locker with his eyes wide, mouth open in shock.

You growled as you stormed over to Jungkook.

“What did you just do?!”

“Those guys were messing with your little brother. If I wasn’t there to do anything, he would’ve gotten beat up.” Jungkook explained, Jisung nodding and smiling behind him.

“Um, fine whatever.” you quickly muttered as you turned on your heel and walked away in confusion.

•••

It was a regular day at work, you took people’s orders up front, and served from time to time since you were slightly understaffed, but it didn’t bother you much. The bell signaled the entry of another customer. You looked up to see who it was and it was… Yugyeom??

“Hey, Y/N.” he shyly greeted you with a small smile.

“What are you doing here?” you retorted, your face scrunching in annoyance and confusion. You paced back and forth behind the counter hoping for him to stop following you, but he persisted to anyway.

“Um, I was wondering, okay, I know I come off as an asshole, but, I was just wondering if you would want to go out? Specifically to the prom? Maybe?”

“Hmph.” you huffed in annoyance. Did he really think you were that easy?

“So, no?”

“Fuck no.”

“Okay, I understand, is it about Jungkook?”

“What?” you pause in your tracks, stopping to ask him.

“I’m sorry to break it to you, but he doesn’t care about you like that. He told me that he still has a thing for Rose. I might be wrong though so. Has he asked you to the prom yet?”

You stared at the ground as you opened your mouth, about to say something before closing it.

“I don’t want you to get hurt over something like this. Think about the prom, okay?”

You averted your eyes to his, slowly nodding.

“I’ll see you around Y/N.”

•••

“Jungkook why can’t you just understand me?! Do you see how much you’re jeopardizing your future here.”

“More like your future..”

“What?”

“I said more like your future! I can’t just pick whatever school.”

“Well, it’s called being an adult and making your own choices.”

“How am I supposed to do that when all my life you’ve been planning your future for me instead of letting me do what I want?”

“I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel that way. Just because of I was at fault isn’t going to change the fact that the future is coming, it’s coming real fast, and it won’t care whether you’re ready or not.”

•••

With prom coming tomorrow, everyone was working hard to set up. Flowers, lights, and balloons were being set up everywhere as everyone rushed to get ready for the big day.

“Hey Jungkook! I came here because I forgot to finalize the plans, and I finally remembered after picking my dress!” Rose

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook questioned slowly, face scrunching in confusion.

“The prom of course dumbo.”

“But-”

“This isn’t about Y/N, is it? Because I heard she already has a date.”

“We should string the lights around here, does that look okay?”you asked Yugyeom, Jungkook listening into your conversation as he walked up towards you two.

“It looks great.” he reassures you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re trying to do here Yugyeom?”

“Good to see you too bro.”

“Y/N, did he ask you to the prom?”

“Yes, I did.” he answers for you, an evil grin making way on his way.

“BULLSHIT!!”

“Someone asking me to the prom is bullshit?” you harshly questioned him.

“I just thought we were going together.” he revealed quietly, face softening.

“Jungkook, you need to stop. I like this girl. You need to stop messing with her emotions just because of this stupid bet, it’s not worth it anymore.”

“Bet?”

“Yeah, it was some stupid bet where Jungkook said he could make any girl into prom queen and you ended up being the one picked.”

You couldn’t believe it, you couldn’t fucking believe it. Everything you two had gone through, all the moments you shared, all the crazy shit he’s made you do… it was all for nothing? The feelings that you had unintentionally developed over time for him- it was all a fucking joke? Instead of showing how heartbroken you truly felt, the anger and pent-up rage had repressed how miserable and deceived you felt inside.

“Is it true? Am I a bet? Am I a bet? AM I A FUCKING BET?” you mercilessly spat at him, voice echoing through the hall, while giving him a cold, unforgiving stare.

His jaw tightens as a surge of emotions run through his head, he analyzed your enraged form, your fists clenching at your sides. He had restrained himself from speaking too soon, in fear that you wouldn’t believe him. He acknowledged the fact that he had to tell you the truth now, there was no point of keeping it in any longer, knowing it would only further his chances of you ever reconciling with him. It pained him that he couldn’t tell you everything and it was all Yugyeom’s fucking fault. He had told you complete and utter lies which twisted the story to make him sound like a complete asshole, which he was, but not to the extent Yugyeom had said.

“Y-Yes..” he hesitantly let out, bracing himself for your reaction. Rose comes out of nowhere, wrapping her arms around Jungkook from behind and peering over his shoulder at you.

“You didn’t think you became popular for real, did you? Aw, you did? That’s so sweet..”

You scoff at her words and shake your head in disbelief, backing away from the scene before glancing at Yugyeom and running up the stairs behind you. You had to get out of there, and any place was better than what was down those steps.

Jungkook groaned to himself, staring at the ground in disappointment and anger as Rose continues on, “Pick me up at 8 babe.” And at that moment, he knew he fucked up, and it was gonna take a lot more than just a crappy apology to fix things. 

-

-

-

MASTERLIST

[rauliskafan]

Mouthpiece or Otherwise

Author’s Note: Here is my entry for the Historical AU Challenge courtesy of the amazing @yourtropegirl!!! Imagine the SVU crew inside a 1920s speakeasy... and the reader has her sights set on a certain ADA nursing a drink in the corner. This was so different for me but also tons of fun!!! Enjoy!!!

“Looking good, Lovely.”

His name was Sonny. A tall, lanky gent from the other side of the tracks. He wore vests that fit his frame and pomade that belied his age. Were the few silver streaks real or part of the show he put on as he decided who came and went at your club? 

"So speaks the spiffy sheik," you said. Passing him a few bills and patting his cheek, you gained entrance with ease.

The place... your place was a palace of archways where ice cold whiskey flowed, and saxophones sizzled from the stage. A dark man in white tails forgot to wail for a few seconds when he met your eyes and sauntered to the footlights.

“There's the best set of gams this side of the Hudson!” he said.

“Sweet, Fin,” you said. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Had to see if there’s something else you want to hear,” he said. “Got any requests?”

You started to speak when you spotted the man of your hour for the first time that night. You’d seen him before. The Brooklyn lawyer by way of Manhattan. Never too proud to pop in for a drink. Word on the street was that he’d been by a lot as of late. And while the two of you had never exchanged a single word, you wanted to know more.

To know why.

“What’s it gonna be?” Fin asked.

“Let’s have a little I May Be Wrong.”

Naturally you hoped that you weren’t and showed Fin a smile when the song started. Listening to the notes that seemed to paint a path towards the farthest corner, you smoothed your hands down the sides of your beaded gown, your sights fixed on the man who downed another drink, his bow tie and vest askew while he listened to the music... and seemed sadder still. Wondering what had shifted in his section of the world, you inhaled a deep breath and---

"Care to be my luck charm tonight, Lovely?"

Your head snapped back, and you found yourself face to face with the brassy blonde in the short black fringe, sporting a feather in her hair.

"Amanda!" you cried, greeting her with a quick hug and peeking over her shoulder to see the chips on the table stacked in her favor. "Doesn't look like you need it. Someone hit a hot streak all on her own."

"Can never have too much of a good thing," she smirked back. "You in?" Tossing the dice between her fingers, you laughed and softly shook your head.

"Another time," you promised. 

"I'll be here," she said, blowing on the cubes and tossing the game pieces to the felt. 

"Another natural winner!" the dealer said when she rolled a seven even as no one spoke the word aloud. Amanda blew you a kiss, and you set back on your intended course...

...only to meet another interruption.

"How long you going to let that Dumb Dora keep it up?" Liv narrowed her eyes, and you rolled yours... as Amanda tossed the dice again to another wave of rapturous applause. The music grew louder, and the dance floor filled with swaying customers, drinks still in hand.

"How long are you going to play the bluenose, Liv?" you asked. "She's not hurting anyone."

"Tonight," Liv countered. "When it goes South, it's no easy task getting her to scram."

"Which is why I leave my joint in your more than capable hands," you said, touching her shoulder, your breath starting to catch in your throat when you saw your crush in the corner starting to shift in his seat. What was this? Was he getting ready to mooch?

"Last thing we need is another copper here," she said.

"Another?" you curiously asked.

"The sad sack," she said, pointing the man in the rumpled suit who seemed certain to fade if you didn't move fast.

"He's no copper," you said. "Call Sonny if you need help."

"If he's not chatting up a chippy when he should be watching the door," Liv frowned.

"Olivia!" you said, raising your voice as she took a step back. You patted her arms and forced a smile. "Have a drink. Cool it with the heebie jeebies."

"I don't drink on the job," she said. 

"Which makes you the right dame for some things and a flat tire for others."

Taking the hint, she finally let you pass, and you raced forward just in time to see the man on his feet.

And you quickly reached for his arm.

"Hey! Going somewhere?"

He seemed stunned by your touch, and you thought you saw the smallest of smiles before his face fell and his shoulders sagged.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, his speech slightly slurred. Which sent a rush of blood from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

"Well it is my gin mill," you said. "And someone seems to like the scenery.”

"Someone needed a drink," he said.

"Makes sense," you said, easing him back to his seat and heaving a sigh of relief when he sat even as he hung his head. “Man in your line of work.”

"I'm on the lam," he said.

"Oh?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as he scrubbed a single hand over his face, tapping his other set of fingers on the tabletop. Fin switched to another song as the dance changed to rocking feet and swinging arms.

"Yes, I..." He stopped short, shaking his head and looking like he wanted to leave again.

"It'd bore you," he said.

"Try me," you challenged, daring to reach for his hand, liking the feel of his long fingers lacing with yours as he slowly lifted his head to meet your eyes.

"What do you think you know about me?" he asked.

"The basics," you replied. "You're a mouthpiece. You like your hooch."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he said.

"Thank God for that or the place wouldn't be packed every night."

You felt his palm relax a little in yours, but you waited and watched him, strands of swirling smoke from every lit gasper making him look like a man born in the mist, trying to break free from the haze...

...or possibly fall back into it?

"So what's the scoop?" you asked. "Some gumshoe crumb the play? Or a canary didn't sing?"

"No," he continued. "Can't lay this at anyone else's feet. This... this is all on me."

For a fleeting second, you wondered what he might have done? Was he a fakeloo or something far worse? All you had to do was whistle once, and Liv would make her way to your side. No need for Sonny; she could toss him out on her own if the man had dirt or something deeper, redder embedded about his soul.

"Do... do you know what happens to a man in my line of work when he drops the dime?"

"Isn't that the kind of thing you want?" you carefully asked. "Someone to inform on the bad eggs?"

"Not what happened here," he said. You could sense him wanting to say so much more when he clammed up and said he needed to drift.

"Rafael?"

It was the first time that you uttered his name aloud, having spoken it in your sleep, waking with the syllables and a smile still on your lips. 

"You know my name," he said.

"Gotta keep the clientele straight," you said. "Something you want to talk about?"

Again, he looked like he wanted to spill, but you could sense his hesitation as the crowd grew, and Amanda roared after she rolled a Hard 10 for another point. He would be a goner if you didn't...

"Come with me."

Keeping a firm hold on his hand, you led him away from the song and the smoke until you hit the first available backroom. He hesitated when you patted the space beside you on the plush velvet couch, and you held your breath until he finally sat.

"Better?" you asked.

"A little," he said. "But... I mean I could use another---"

"I always carry a spare," you smiled. Reaching for your garter belt, you unveiled a flask and saw his green eyes grow wide when you took a sip before passing the bottle his way.

"Share and share alike," you said.

"You keep the prime merchandise for yourself?" he asked.

"I drink the same as my customers," you said, wanting to take offense. But in a different light he seemed so earnest, miles away from all wet. And playing the high hat was far from your style.

"Imbibe, Mr. ADA," you urged.

"Not for much longer," he said with a swift sip.

"Seriously?”

“I shouldn’t---”

“Come on. You going to get a wiggle on or what?"

You punctuated each word with one hand stroking his thigh and bit your lower lip until he took a deep breath.

And the words poured out.

"There was this kid," he started. "Skinny as a rail. Not a match to strike. And he... he robbed a place very much like this."

"Really," you carefully said. "Why would that be a bad thing? Thought it might help your sort out."

"Not when the fella running that joint is in the DA's back pocket," he said. "So they want to make this kid the fall guy for a whole lot of things that he played no part in. Makes the medicine go down easier for everyone."

"But not sitting right with you," you said.

"Sticks right in my craw," he confessed. "They gave me a choice; play the pushover or be put out to pasture."

"And someone selected the latter," you knowingly said, realizing that it was more than the way he looked with a glass in hand. You were nothing if not a good judge of character, and this man, mouthpiece or otherwise, was the cat's meow because he was a darb in a world of double-crosses.

"I'm sorry," you said, taking his hand again. "But it's just ducky that you came here to get fried."

"Not quite half seas over yet," he said. "Getting there."

"Gives us more time to talk," you said.

"What about?"

Where to start? He'd hit your heart on all sixes the second you laid eyes on him. Joe Brooks with It and so much more in your juice joint. The man knew his onions, the Real McCoy when it came to conscience and compassion. You wanted that in your life. To see where it led. To taste a different flavor than the swells who might take you for a ride, the torpedoes you had to dodge more often than not. But first things first; let him see that you were on the level, that this was a chance for something special. And if the middle aisle was in the cards down the line...?

"Rafael, how'd you like to work for me?" you asked.

"You?" he echoed.

"Could use someone hip to the jive. And before you object, know this; I've had an earful of the cats you described. On both sides of the cooler. Wouldn't you love to find a way to beat them all at their own game?"

You watched him mull over the proposition. Would he take the bait? Or give you the bum's rush?

"They... they call you Lovely, right?"

"My friends do. Are we friends, Rafael?"

Finishing the flask, he passed it back into your free hand and finally flashed a full smile.

"Yes, Lovely. And I'm listening." 

[sunken-standard]

Hello are you still taking requests? 5,7 and 93, please. Ignore this if you aren't :) thank you.

So this starts out one way, and then ittook a turn and I just… let it.  Because life does that.  Andbecause I need to stop erasing and rewriting everything I put down. So yeah.  It’s not in any ‘verse, though it could be a newone—Shit-We-Won’t-Tell-The-Grandkids 'verse, maybe.

“What do you mean you’releaving?”/ “Please, I’m begging you.”/ “I oweyou what?”

“Sorry, I’ll only be a second, Ijust need to grab a—is that my razor?” Molly stopped shortbefore she got to the medicine cabinet.

“Well I was hardly going to ruinmine just for my legs.  The blades cost £4each.  You’re dripping, by the way.”

“Bollocks,” she said, puttingher hand over the sink while she opened the medicine cabinet.  Shereally should keep plasters downstairs in the kitchen, since that waswhere most of the injuries in her flat occurred (very few of themactually hers), but it just felt weird and wrong to do that.

She heard the sounds of Sherlockgetting out of the bath behind her and clamped down on the urge tolook; she’d seen him naked a million times before (she was a doctor,not a woman, and modesty was for other people anyway) butnever with shaved legs and she was a bit curious if he’d gone anyhigher.  She was really a terrible person.

“Why are you bleeding so much? Did you hit an artery?” he asked, peering down at her hand.

“No, but I did take off part of mythumbnail with the cheese grater.  Don’t worry, I picked it out ofthe cheese, so no one’s getting any surprises on their pizza.”

“Shame, it’d be a bit like findingla fève in a King cake.”

“King cake.”  It rang a bell,but wasn’t something she could ever recall having.

“Mm.  French thing, for Lent. They put a figurine inside a cake and whoever’s lucky enough to findit gets to be king for the day.  Hardly worth the dental work, butthat’s the French for you.”

“Ah.  So was that for some case inFrance?” she asked, watching the blood swirl down the drain asshe washed the wound.  She always thought it looked pretty.  Andthat’s why they don’t let you out of the morgue, she thought toherself.

“No, family.  Fully one quarterFrench on my Mum’s side.  And Catholic, to boot.”

She turned to him with an expression ofmock-appal.  "A Papist?  The horror.“

He smiled softly as he looked down atthe plaster he’d grabbed, peeling the paper tabs off the sticky part. "I was even baptized Catholic, as far as that goes.  And I cansay the Rosary in seven different languages.  Came in surprisinglyhandy when I was in Eastern Europe.”  He used gauze to dab awaythe blood that continued to well up from the wound, then gentlyapplied the plaster.

Her breath caught at the weird, casualintimacy of the moment; she wasn’t used to being the one patched upand if she did need it, she always just did it herself.  She soughtdesperately to cover the things it was pulling out of her; she wasafraid she might do something stupid like kiss him.  "So whywere you shaving your legs?“ she blurted.

"Why do you shave yours?  I likethe smoothness,” he said with a straight face, then cracked intoa smile.  "It’s for a client.“

"What are you, Pretty Woman?”

“That remains to be seen, but onehopes.  When’s the last time you’ve been to a drag show?”

“Why would you assume I’ve everbeen to a drag show?”

“Jim Moriarty, with whom youwatched Glee, was your boyfriend and you’ve gone tothree gay weddings in the time I’ve known you.  Your femininity andsexuality are completely non-threatening and, work attire aside,you’ve got a strong sense of personal style.  Of course you’ve beento drag shows.  Also, I’m going to need help doing my make-up.”

The desire to kiss him evaporated andwas replaced with the desire to throttle him instead.  She settledfor a scowl.

*

“Well, I mean, Cher is kindof a cliche,” Molly said, following him to the bar.

“I don’t even know who Cher is,”he complained, gesturing to the bartender to get his attention.

“Of course you don’t.  Have younever been to a fancy dress party?  There’s always that one couplethat goes as Sonny and Cher because it’s 'retro.’  Though, I mean,more in the 90s than now, but old people still do it.”

“Wouldn’t know, I delete alltraumatic experiences.”

She rolled her eyes and ordered herselfa double bourbon on the rocks and got Sherlock something neon pinkwith a crazy straw.  He might delete it later, but she was going toenjoy that memory for a long time.

“Molly?!  Molly Hooper?!” Oneof Beyoncé’s back-up dancers appeared at her elbow.  "I knew itwas you!  I’d never forget that nose!“

She struggled for a second to place thevoice with a name, and then it hit her.  "Bassie!  How areyou?” she gushed, a reflex.  Sherlock cleared his throat.  "Oh,right, Sher—Shireen, Bassie, Bassie, Shireen.  I used to go outwith his flatmate Jim,“ she said, lifting her eyebrows toemphasize.  Sherlock stiffened next to her, then relaxed.  After all,it was five years ago and Sebastian had been cleared of anyinvolvement straight away, so it wasn’t like he was any kind ofthreat.

Bassie put his hand to his ample bosomand made a sad face, obviously in memory of Jim, then reached out toher, eyes and mouth going wide.  "Oh my God, though, do youbelieve it?  You did hear about it, right?”

“Saw it in the paper.  So sad,”she said as convincingly as she could.  

“I think he’s still outthere somewhere.  He always said he wanted to go to Thailand, I betthat’s where he is.”

Sherlock choked on his cocktail.  Sheand Sherlock were two of the only three people alive that knewexactly where Jim Moriarty was, and it was definitely notThailand.

“I wish he’d call me, I’d fly outfor drinks.  Any excuse, yeah?” Bassie went on, then winkedtheatrically.  "He was so down after you two split.  Oh my God! Did you know?“

She tittered and sipped her drink,aware that Sherlock was watching her like a hawk.  "Nope. Didn’t even know he was gay, let alone a criminal mastermind, hehheh.”

“Gay,” Bassie rolledhis eyes.  "Jim was above labels.  Unless it was Westwood orMcQueen, I am I right?“  He glanced behind the bar.  "Gotto dash, sweetie, I’m on again in ten with Lady HaHa and getting intothe latex to be one of her little monsters is murder.  Stickaround til the end of the night.  Please, I’m begging you.  I’m doing'This is My Life,’ never a dry eye in the house, you’ll die.  Textme, we’ll do drinks sometime.”

He was gone with a flurry ofair-kisses, leaving only a cloud of hairspray and Chanel in his wake.

“He’s really not that campy inreal life,” she said.  She remembered him as pretty reserved,actually.

Sherlock let the crazy straw drop fromhis lips, leaving a smudge of lipstick on the plastic.  "Mm. Wouldn’t imagine he’d get very far in civil engineering if he were. You never mentioned—"

“Isn’t that your client overthere?” she deflected, pointing to a random stranger.  There wasa lot she never mentioned about Jim, and it was going to stay thatway.

“What?  Where?”

*

“Oh bugger,” she said whenthe song changed.  It was a drag club; it was bound to happen.

“What?” Sherlock asked,perking up, no doubt on guard for another surprise social interactionor something actually related to the case.  "And why is everyonelooking at me?“

"The song.  It’s Cher. It’s like Rocky Horror, they always do something special for thevirgins.”

“How do they know I'm—”

She ignored him, swigging the rest ofdrink and slamming the glass down on the bar.  "Alright, let’sdo this.  You’re going to owe me.“  She took Sherlock’s wristand pulled him into the middle of the dance floor.  She wouldn’t beany kind of assistant if she let his cover get blown because he was acomplete knob that didn’t know a single song written after 1920, withthe exception of (and God only knew why) Ringo Starr’s discography. Besides, standing around all night in a club full of good-looking,well-groomed men that wouldn’t grope her or press theirawkward boners into her arse was just a wasted opportunity.  She’ddrink away her embarrassment later.

"Wh-what are you doing?”

“It’s not what I’m doing,it’s what you’re doing.  This song is for you.  Startdancing and act like you’re having a good time,” she shoutedinto his ear before she let go of him and went for it.

She felt like the hero in an actionmovie, running through no-man’s land and drawing the bad guys’ firewhile the other part of the team did the thing to save the world. She channelled every liquor-soaked night out after a bad break-upthat she could actually remember as she belted out the opening linesof 'Believe,’ using Sherlock as her prop, dancing against him andsinging to him and oh God there really wasn’t enough booze in theworld for this.

And then nothing in the world madesense because he started dancing.  With the music.  And lip-syncing. Perfectly; well-rehearsed.  

Oh, she was going to kill thatprick.  He did things like this to John all the time (and sometimesMary, and Greg once or twice, and his brother whenever he possiblycould), the tit, but she thought she had some kind of… immunityfrom it.  Sure, there was probably some reason he’d acted allclueless and then suddenly switched gears, the deception was all partof the plan, always was, but he could have at least trusted her forthat bit like he normally did.  

Suddenly the music and dancing and thewhole novelty of a case in a drag club didn’t seem quite as fun andexciting as it did five minutes ago.  She powered through the rest ofthe song anyway, dancing her way back to the edge of the floor andletting him have centre stage, just as he’d probably planned from thestart.

She didn’t know why she was hurt by it;it wasn’t exactly a rational or proportionate response.  Leaving wasnot a thing an adult woman would do, but she really didn’t want to bethere anymore.  It wasn’t like he really needed her for the caseanyway, he could internalize his own executive functioning for onceinstead of making someone else do it.

And then he was suddenly in front ofher, blocking her way to the front of the club.  "Where are yougoing?“

"Should be fairly obvious.  I’mleaving.”

“What do you mean you’releaving?  Are you not feeling well?”  He reached out to touchher forehead and she batted his hand away.

“I’m feeling fine.  Next timemaybe—” she cut herself off, pressed her lips together.  Shedidn’t want to have to shout over the music to explain it to him.  Itwasn’t worth it.

“Next time what?”

“Just, finish your thing here,”she said, then walked away.  She was only a little let down (thoughnot surprised) when he didn’t follow after her.

*

“Really hoped you’d make more of ascene,” Sherlock said breezily, coming to stand beside her atthe bus stop.  She’d only been there a few minutes, though she hadtaken her time getting there.  She needed the air to clear her head.

“What are you talking about?”

“When I humiliated you on thedance floor.  Thought you’d have a stronger reaction.”  Hewinced as he pulled off his wig, pins catching in his hair.

She had a feeling she was about to havethat stronger reaction with whatever he said next.  "So it wasall part of your plan.“

"Obviously.  Really though, Ican’t believe you thought I didn’t know who Cher is.  If I canidentify a gay man by his underwear, it’s a safe bet I know a bitmore about the culture.”

Wait, was he trying to tell hersomething?  Mrs. Hudson used to think—  But Molly’d never got thatvibe from him (then again, she hadn’t got that vibe from Jim, and,well), and there was Irene Adler and the other one, and he’d neversaid anything in all the years he’d known her, but they didn’t talkabout those kinds of things—

“No, I’m not gay, you of allpeople should know that,” he said, sounding slightlyexasperated.

“Me, of all people,” sheechoed flatly.  She felt like it was an insult of some kind and shewasn’t sure why.

He looked at her like he was trying tofigure something out, then looked away; she wasn’t sure what wasbehind that.  Whatever, it didn’t change anything.

“So why couldn’t you just tell meto 'make a scene’ when you gave me a signal?  I would have gone alongwith whatever.”

“Because I really did need you toleave and I needed it to be authentic.  Thought for a minute youweren’t going to.  Didn’t have a plan B this time, either.”

“Mm.”  She was beginning tounderstand why John reacted how he did sometimes.  Right then, shereally didn’t care about the case.  He’d obviously solved it, theside of good prevailed, hurray, and the only collateral damage washer trust.  It was like he delighted in finding the most convoluted,idiotic ways to get from point A to point B sometimes and it didn’tmatter who was in the way.

“You’re angry with me.”

“Not really angry, no. Disappointed,” she said truthfully.  Sometimes she didn’t evenknow why she invested the time in explaining and correcting his badbehaviour.

“And hurt.”  It was aquestion.

“A bit.”

“I’m sorry.”  His voice wassoft, sincere.

You always are, she thought withan edge of bitterness.  She shrugged.  It was a stupid thing to behurt over, anyway.  She just needed a bit of time to get over it.

They stood in silence for another fewmoments, until Sherlock finally spoke again.  "You said I wouldowe you.  I owe you… what?  Name it,“ he said quietly.

"Doesn’t matter, it was just athing I said.  You don’t owe me anything,” she said just asquietly.  She really just wanted to forget about it.

“I could put the wig back on andwe could go to a different club.  You like dancing,” he offered. He was only half-joking, but she could tell by his voice that herealized this wasn’t the kind of thing he could charm his way out of.

“Maybe some other time,” shesaid, trying to keep her voice neutral.

“Would you—ever… want to?  Godancing.  When it’s not for a case.  After you’re finished beingcross with me,” he said, looking out into the street.  He wasn’tlooking at anything, he was just avoiding looking in herdirection.

Any other time she’d wonder if sheheard him correctly, or what kind of angle he was working; she hadthe thought that the timing was too bad for it to be anything but asincere offer.  And the way he asked wasn’t the way he asked if shewanted to go grab something to eat after work or if she wanted to gowith him to see this or that new exhibit at whatever museum orgallery.  It was like he was afraid she’d say no and the rejectionwould actually mean something.

“Like a date,” she said.  Itwas more of a question.  She felt like an idiot for even asking, andmaybe it was all just wishful thinking again like the time she’dmisread things so badly before that party, but she couldn’t help butfeel like this time was different.

“You could call it that, Isuppose.  Wouldn’t be inaccurate,” he said, finally looking ather out of the corner of his eye.

Her pulse sped up and the part of herthumb she’d grated off throbbed uncomfortably; Sherlock was stillmostly (absurdly) in drag and the night was muggy and the streetsmelled overwhelmingly of wee and spilled beer.  It was about as farfrom 'fairytale’ as one could get.

“After I’m finished being crosswith you.  And you won’t do anything like that again.”

“I won’t.  I truly am sorry.”

“I know.”

They stood in awkward silence foranother few moments until the bus turned the corner at the end of thestreet.

“You’re not actually expecting meto take the bus all the way back to yours as a form of penance, areyou?”

“Tempting, but no.  You can usethat magical cab-summoning superpower of yours any time now.”

Sherlock gave her one of those soft,genuine smiles of his and, while making her stomach do the samelittle flip it always did, it made her giggle, too.

“I didn’t even get to make anyjokes about John Waters, RuPaul, or Kinky Boots.  So manymissed opportunities.  Guess you’ll just have to take another casethat requires High Drag.”

“Ah, no,” he said, swinginghis wig as they walked in the direction of the taxi rank.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,”she said.