#besides. she saw my name in the program! and used it to further the conversation!

[number-1-crush]

so. we win some we lose some

[blackbat05]

Day by Day

Shangqi x Reader 

A/N: My love for this man has hit an all time high so let me capitalize on it while I still can! If you read everything, I sincerely thank you for doing so!!! And holy cow 2 fics in 2 days have I gone back into my prime days? 

Genre: PG-13

Notes: As the title mentioned, I’ll probably set it some time after endgame. You could see it as a prequel to my first post! Reader is a social worker and she’s just dealing with all the mess that the snap bought back. The reader’s name as Jen Lee. I also apologize in advance for the potentially long fic. 

***

‘Excuse me, I’m looking for my child? Her name’s Wang Yiman and she’s seven.’ Another frazzled-looking parent fought her way to the front of the receptionist, approaching the helpless intern who looked like she was going to be on the verge of tears if another request came in. 

‘I got this,’ a hand calmly reassured the young intern as she beckoned the relief parent. ‘Mrs Wang? My name is Jen Lee and I’m the social worker here.’ I offered my hand for the anxious mother. ‘Oh thank god! Is Yiman ok? She must have been so scared!’ I slowed to a stop outside the room at the end of the corridor, gently sitting her down. 

‘Yiman has been a very brave girl Mrs Wang, but I will not lie to you. The sudden disappearance of their parents has traumatized a lot of kids. We’ve managed to explain to them what was going on but they will need a lot of support.’ I gave a glance over Mrs Wang’s shoulder, nodding to my colleague, Tammy who was holding the hand of a little girl in pigtails and a floral dress. 

妈妈! mā ma (mommy!)

The young girl ran into her mother’s open arms, allowing the floodgates to open from both ends. I turn to Tammy as we shared a silent agreement to leave the area. ‘That’s the last one for the day,’ Tammy unceremoniously plops herself onto the chair, letting out a groan. ‘Thanks for your hard work Jen.’ 

‘Right back at you.’ I entered the last bit of paperwork before uploading Yiman’s case file onto the portal. Yiman’s reunion with her parents meant the Children and Youth Centre were halfway in getting every displaced child back to their parents. Looking at the dingy television that was hung on the walls at the waiting room, despite not being able to hear anything, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on. S.W.O.R.D was apparently in a stand-off against Wanda Maximoff? Reported rumors that Sam Wilson didn’t want anything to do with the shield? It’s been a crazy few weeks but that was utter- 

‘Bullshit! If anything it’s the government. They must have psyched him into giving up the shield.’ My chair swiveled to face Tammy who returned a nonchalant shrug. ‘What? You know I’m right. Doesn’t matter if half the world’s gone or our universe gets split into two - they’re the true evil here. I’m still struggling to find a place after I found a couple making out in my apartment! And you know what the global repatriation council told me? We’re only dealing with urgent cases right now. Well I say f-’

The incessant ringing of the bell interrupted our conversation, replacing Tammy’s tirade into a cheeky grin. ‘Look who’s here!’ 

Shangqi stands behind the counter, dressed in his usual red varsity jacket and jeans, holding bags of what I could only make out as takeout from the Chinese restaurant that was run by a friendly Singaporean couple. ‘Did I interrupt something?’ He scratches his head nervously. ‘Nope, in fact you just saved me from Tammy’s monologue, any further and she’ll explicitly tell me what she saw in her apartment when she got dusted back that day,’ I shivered in mock fear. ‘Still haunts me up till today.’ Tammy meets us by the door, bag in her hand. 

‘I thought you were staying? We got fried dumplings and 泡饭  pào fàn (poached rice).’ 

‘Last minute duty - A parent called, gotta run! Enjoy your dinner date.’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, much to our embarrassment. ‘What? It’s not...’ Shangqi stutters, trying to form intelligible sentences. ‘Get out before I throw a fried dumpling at your face Tammy!’ She winks at me, before darting out of the door. Once my nosy colleague was out, I turn towards a red-faced Shangqi. ‘I’m so sorry... just don’t mind her.’ 

‘Huh?’ The man was knocked out of his stupor. ‘Oh yeah... sure,’ in an attempt to forget everything that had just happened, he opened the packets of fried dumplings. ‘Ready for war?’ 

‘I was born ready.’ 

Thirty-five minutes later, all that was left were the remnants of fried dumplings and three empty containers. 

‘This should be illegal,’ I patted my stomach in satisfaction to his amusement. ‘Laugh at yourself! You lost track of how many dumplings you had and ended up taking my share!’ 

Raising his hands in defeat, Shangqi starts to clear the table up. ‘So how’s the center? Everything alright?’ I nodded numbly. 

The past five years had been a blur. Hazy, even. All I remembered was a kid running into the office telling me that half of the staff disappeared during a school holiday program that we were running with a dozen other kids. Parents who survived the snap rushed to our center, demanding to see their children. We couldn’t give them any answer as we too, were equally perplexed. Maybe the only thing that made sense was Shangqi and Katy bursting into the center to help us with the chaos. 

Coming back from what could be the 1000th phone call, I got a glimpse in the children’s playroom where the five years old kids were at, treating myself to an amusing sight. They all had red cloths draped around their neck, each holding a stick that was from the abandoned prop box. Katy wasn’t spared to as she was wearing her own red cloth that seemed a few sizes to small for her. Not that she didn’t seem to mind. 

‘Alright my warriors! Chargeeeeee!!!!!!’ 

In unison, little pairs of feet pattered across the room towards their ‘enemy’, a cardboard cutout of a monstrous creature who was really just Shangqi in disguise. 

‘RAWR! I’ll eat anyone who stands in my way!’ He stands up, mimicking a dinosaur that was about to trample an entire city. I decided that the paperwork could wait, standing near the door to watch an Oscar-worthy performance. With great effort and bravery from the kids, they finally managed to take down 5 foot 10 worth of muscle. 

‘Again! Again!’ 

I chuckled upon seeing Shangqi on the floor, about to drift off into wonderland. It was time for me to step in. ‘Alright kids that’s enough for today! Dinner’s here.’  As the kids dispersed with the help of Katy, it was just the two of us left to clear up the mess. ‘Thank you so much, both of you. I honestly can’t think of what would happen if you guys didn’t come to help.’ 

Perhaps my body language was screaming ‘I’m dead tired, please just knock me out’ as Shangqi takes a cloth from me, folding it back into the box. ‘It’s what we would have done, this place, it means a lot to us - to me.’ 

A small knock on the door diverts our attention away from the trash. Little Yiman stands at the door, as she stares at the both of us with big round eyes. 

‘Yiman, it’s late, what are you doing here?’ I squat down to her eye level. The little girl beams, ‘ 妈妈 said that I could give this to you!’ She passes me a juice box together with a handmade card with colorful scribbles. Maybe I was carrying too much on my shoulders, as I suddenly felt a boulder lifted off me. ‘Thank you,’ I smile at her sweetly, ‘I love apple juice.’ Happy with the response, she runs to Shangqi. ‘Shangqi 哥哥 gē ge (brother)!’ 

He breaks out into a smile, opening his arms wide. Yiman nuzzles her head into his shoulder before breaking out into uncontrollable giggles from his sudden attack of tickles. ‘Are you hear to help Miss Jen?’ I took the trash from his hands, giving him some time with the girl. 

‘Yes I am. Miss Jen needs some help so I’m here today!’ 

‘Are you her boyfriend?’ 

Shangqi freezes on the spot. He had undergone what could be the toughest training by his father, fought the greatest assassins in the world and here he was - stumped by a question from a seven year old. ‘Well... I’m her close friend since when we were very young,’ Yiman looks at him expectantly. ‘She helped me when I was in trouble so I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’ 

‘Like how Ningning helped me when I injured my knee?’ 

‘Yeah... something like that.’ He breathes a sigh of relief, thankful to escape his first crisis. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he was telling himself the truth. 

‘Yiman! Your mother’s here!’ The little girl gives him one last hug before running to the waiting room. Shangqi takes a moment to recollect himself. ‘Here I am thinking that you finally managed to have some stamina while interacting with young children, maybe I was wrong.’ I teased as I sat beside him. 

‘Har har, hilarious.’ He tosses me a straw for our peach teas, as we were greeted by the amazing night view of San Francisco. ‘Enough about me, you good though?’ Looks like he didn’t forget the conversation that was cut off earlier. My mind goes back to a few minutes earlier, eavesdropping on the conversation.

‘I had to be a good friend when she was in trouble too.’

Life has been so unpredictable, I don’t even want to think too far into the future. With appearances from more superpowered beings, I don’t know what’s real anymore.

‘Yeah. To be honest, it’s been so crazy and overwhelming but I’ll get through it. I have you don’t I?’ Giving him a wink, I slowly sipped on the sweetness of the tea, savoring the pearls. He pauses for a moment, nodding thoughtfully. 

Life isn’t the same as it was before. But maybe, just maybe... if I had Shangqi, I’ll take each day on one at a time. Day by day. 

[END]

A/N: Hoho! I literally spent the whole afternoon writing because I just had to get this idea out and also because work was pretty slow today. I have no idea what is up with my first two fics hinting at unrequited love? I guess I got inspired by Shangqi’s and Katy’s platonic relationship because I thought it was so well written but I also love Shangqi so I guess is a compromise kinda thing. Again, do like and comment if you wish! Really thankful that y’all have been so kind to me so far! 

Perhaps I’ll try my hand at shorter ones like headcannons before this girl exhausts herself out and I don’t want to do that because I believe I have more to show! 

[thalergetic]

prompt: sugar daddy adora. as a birthday treat 😌

as a birthday treat? of course 😌

As far as Catra knew, most grad students didn’t have closets full of Gucci, Dior, and Louis Vuitton.

They didn’t have a chauffeur that would take them wherever they needed, whenever they needed.

And they certainly weren’t sharing a bed with one of the most powerful businesswomen in the country.

Adora Grayskull, who made the 30 Under 30 list at age 21, had been promoted to COO of Horde Industries about three months before she met Catra, and she was only on her way up.

Catra wasn’t sure exactly what her job entailed — Adora had tried explaining it a few times in bed, but nothing had ever stuck — and wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

After all, that wasn’t something their... agreement had covered.

Catra met Adora when she was in the first year of a grueling PhD program at one of the best schools on the West Coast.

She’d been waiting tables in a fairly high-class restaurant, trying to make enough money to cover her first tuition payment, when Adora walked in.

She had been with a client, Catra remembered, but it didn’t stop her from staring the whole time.

When her client left — in some fit of rage, if the way he stormed out was anything to go by — Adora had sighed and put her head in her hands.

And, well, Catra wasn’t immune to someone that attractive in a well-tailored suit.

She brought over a glass of the scotch Adora had ordered earlier and placed it gently beside her.

“On the house,” Catra said, watching Adora’s eyes flick over to it. “You’re Adora Grayskull, right?”

“Guilty as charged.” Adora looked up at her for a moment. “Care to join me?”

Catra knew she probably shouldn’t, but it had been a slow night, and her manager was too busy micromanaging the hostesses to notice her.

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded, and pulled up a chair across from her. “What was that guy’s deal?”

Adora sighed a little, looking towards the door before her eyes met Catra’s. “I had to fire him.” When Catra’s eyes widened a little, Adora continued, explaining, “He’s— he was in charge of our Boston branch.”

“Not anymore, though, I guess,” Catra said. “Rough way to end a night.”

“Considering he spent the last two quarters doing coke and fucking his secretary, I think he probably should’ve seen it coming.” Adora took a sip of her drink to hide a smile as Catra let out a surprised laugh.

Adora swallowed, then nodded toward Catra. “My turn to ask a question. What brought you here?”

“Here, like, to LA? Or to the restaurant?”

“Both,” Adora shrugged. “Either.”

Catra gnawed at the inside of her lip for a second. “I’m a grad student at UCLA,” She said. “I just started a PhD program.”

Adora’s eyebrows raised a little as she nodded, impressed. “In what?”

“Mechanical engineering and applied physics,” Catra answered, watching Adora’s eyes widen even further. “Y’know. Basic stuff.”

It was Adora’s turn to let out a surprised laugh. “No shit,” She said, propping her head up on a hand. “Tell me more.”

Somehow, Catra did. She talked — slow and hesitant at first, then with increasing enthusiasm that led her to drawing a diagram on the back of a receipt — about her work, her interests, and her concentration.

The whole time, Adora watched her face with an awed expression. At the end, her only question was, “So why the hell are you waiting tables?”

“I mean, the tuition isn’t exactly cheap,” Catra said. “I got a partial scholarship, but I’m already up to my neck in loans. This doesn’t cover all of it, but...” She shrugged. “It helps. Plus, the food’s not bad.”

Adora nodded a little. Her face clouded with an expression Catra couldn’t place. “Means you have less time to do your actual work, though.”

Catra nodded. “It does. But, I mean, it’s whatever,” She said, shrugging again. “That’s life. What can you do, y’know?”

“Well, I—” Adora cut herself off with a shake of her head. “No, that’s not— never mind.”

Catra frowned. “What?”

As if to give her some courage, Adora finished her drink. She began to run her finger around the edge of the glass as she said, in a careful, halting voice, “If you needed some help, I would...” She cleared her throat. “I would be happy to, um...”

She was blushing, Catra realized. Why would she be— oh.

Oh.

“Um,” Catra started, eyes widening. “You— but, I-I mean, I just met you.”

“True,” Adora agreed. “So obviously you’re under no obligation to accept, but—” She let out a small sigh. “You know you’re the first person I’ve been able to have a normal conversation with in years?”

Catra blinked. She wasn’t sure what to say, and all her brain could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Adora nodded. “And you’re so, so smart, Catra. You should be able to spend as much time as humanly possible doing what you love, not—not giving glasses of Johnny Walker to random CEOs on a Tuesday night.”

Catra was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open. “So, to be clear, you would be, like... my sugar daddy?”

Adora cringed a little at the words, but nodded anyway. “If that’s what you want to call it, then... sure. But we don’t have to discuss it now,” She said, reaching into her suit jacket.

She pulled out a sleek, neat black wallet and pulled one, two, then four hundred-dollar bills from inside it.

“When are you free to talk about it?” Adora asked, sliding the money across the table. “I’ll send a car for you.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus.”

“If that’s what you want, that’s fine,” Adora said, putting her hands up in surrender. “But if it makes things easier for you, I’m happy to do it.”

In the end, the temptation of a plush, fancy car was too much for Catra to overcome, and she relented soon after.

Later that week, when she and Adora went over the terms of what they’d refer to as the agreement, Catra found herself blushing when she asked the question that had been lingering on her mind for days.

“So... in exchange for the money,” Catra said hesitantly, watching Adora’s expression shift ever so slightly, “What... would I be doing?”

“Right. Um.” Adora started, swallowing thickly. “I know that usually in these types of relationships, there’s—” She cut herself off, letting out a small laugh. “I don’t know why I’m blushing,” She said, shaking her head. “Um. But there’s a sexual component.”

Not trusting herself to speak without it coming out squeaky, Catra just nodded. Her face was on fire.

“If that’s not something you’re interested in, that’s completely fine,” Adora said, raising her eyebrows a little. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

Catra nodded again, clearing her throat. “And, um. If... I was interested?”

Adora’s eyes widened a little, and Catra swore she saw them darken as her jaw pulsed. “If you’re interested,” Adora said, her voice dropping a little deeper, “I’m more than okay with that.”

Feeling her heart rate jump a little at the sudden change in demeanor, Catra blinked rapidly. “Um. O-okay,” She said, nodding again. “Yeah. Cool. We need to—to talk about it more, though, right?”

“I need to know any limits you have,” Adora said, nodding. “Anything you’re absolutely not willing to do.”

“Okay,” Catra nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”

Adora offered a hand out for Catra to shake.

After a second’s hesitation, Catra took it.

“Then it’s a deal,” Adora said, giving her a smile. “You’ll have access to a car service, my credit card, and the penthouse,” She said. “In return, I would just ask that you keep this between us.”

“Uh. Of course,” Catra said, remembering the very detailed text she’d sent to Glimmer after their first meeting. “Um. I-I can do that.”

“I-I mean, I don’t know what you’ve told people,” Adora said, frowning a little. “Just, you know. Try and keep my name out of it. Not that I’m ashamed of you, or of this, but with the company—”

“Easy, baby,” Catra said, putting a hand on her arm. She began to rub soothingly at it, feeling hard muscle under Adora’s dress shirt. “I get it.”

Adora blushed again. “You—you called me baby,” She said dumbly.

“You’re paying for my tuition,” Catra said, raising an eyebrow. “I feel like it’s the least I can do.”

The words seemed to remind her of something, and Catra swallowed hard. “Speaking of tuition,” She said. “When do you... want me to start?”

“Start wh— oh.” Adora’s eyes widened. She looked behind her, where the door to her bedroom was open, before turning back to Catra. “Are you busy tonight?”

Catra blinked, trying hard to tamp down her blush. “Not at all.”

“Well, then,” Adora said, taking a step toward her. Slowly, so Catra could see and react to it, she moved her hand up so her thumb was resting on Catra’s bottom lip. “There’s your answer.”

Catra opened her mouth a little, feeling Adora slide her thumb inside.

In a second, Catra decided that if she was going to do this, she would do it right.

Putting a hand on Adora’s to steady it, Catra began to suck gently on the finger in her mouth, watching Adora’s eyes fly open as her lips parted.

A few moments later, Catra released her finger with a pop, leaving Adora much less collected than she had been minutes prior.

With a wink, Catra moved past her slowly, dragging her fingers lightly along Adora’s shoulder as she walked behind her into her bedroom.

Catra stopped at the doorway and looked back. “If we’re doing this, there’s something you should know,” She said, watching Adora frown in a mix of concern, confusion, and arousal.

“What?”

Dragging her eyes up and down Adora’s body, Catra gave her a grin. “I bite.”

[writingbeary]

Ramyeon

Minyoung’s Outfit

Notes:

I imagined this around Wave promotions

If the words/sentence are in italics then it’s spoken in English

────────── ♔ ──────────

"Think about it sometime okay?" Minyoung bowed at the guy who suddenly gave her a sandwich. She doesn't know his name or group but she was pretty sure she has seen his face somewhere, not that it's hard to assume that he is also an idol promoting at the same time as them just by judging through the stage outfit. Confused but nonetheless thankful for the food, she decided to head back ro their waiting room.

"What took you so long?" Jongho asked as he came face to face with Minyoung just as he was about to go out to look for her. The group was getting a bit worried when she said she'll just grab food from the cafeteria and 20 minutes later, she was still nowhere in sight. "Did you get lost? That's why I said I'll go with you."

Minyoung shook her head pouting "I wasn't lost this time! I had a hard time deciding what to get."

"You had a hard time deciding so you bought two?" San asked noticing the extra sandwich

"Oh no. I received that as a present? Is that the right way to say it?" she asked San tilting her head a bit, suddenly confused with her Korean.

"The cafeteria staff gave you an extra? Is that what you want to say?" Hongjoong asked before San could reply

"No no no. I was given this in the hallway. So a present, right?" Minyoung nodded to herself opening a sandwich, taking a seat beside Wooyoung who was busy watching other groups' rehearsals on the screen. "You can eat it if you want, I'm taking what I picked."

She took a bite, oblivious to the look that Hongjoong, San, and Jongho was giving her. It was a bit expected that Minyoung wouldn't know about the rumors regarding giving and receiving sandwiches in music programs and they were worried she'd be a target for rumors.

"Do you know who gave you this?" Hongjoong asked as the other two checked the sandwich, relieved that there doesn't seem to be a paper slipped in it.

She shook her head before taking another bite of her food "Dunno. If I see him, I think I can tell you but I'm not sure I know him." She said pointing at the monitor "Why?" before suddenly gasping as if a realizing something "I thanked him oppa! I remembered to do that don't worry! Oh no. Was it a rude thing to accept it when I already bought food? Is that it?"

"No, it's nothing like that bun. Don't worry. I was just wondering who it is." Hongjoong smiled patting the younger's head. He thought that maybe he was just being paranoid and the person who gave you the sandwich was just being nice or maybe he was just not feeling hungry anymore that instead of wasting it, he decided it's better to just give it to someone and he just happened to meet you at that time. He tried to reassure himself with the fact that since there wasn't a scribbled number that it's just his own mind making scenarios by overthinking things.

The conversation was soon forgotten when they all went to do their own thing while waiting for their turn to go on stage, that was until Minyoung suddenly turned and tapped Wooyoung's arm.

Wooyoung looked at her, shifting his focus from the group on the monitor. "Hm?"

"Oppa, I don't understand. Is it normal to ask people to have ramyeon?" Minyoung asked as she tried replaying the words in her mind

"What?" Wooyoung suddenly sat up right asking unintentionally raising his voice out of surprise "Who-...where did you hear that from?" his voice gaining the attention of the other members

"What's wrong?" Seonghwa asked from his seat

Wooyoung ignored Seonghwa's question as he is more concerned with what happened with Minyoung "Explain. When did you hear that?"

"I just remembered the guy who gave me the sandwich said that maybe we could have ramyeon. Why give me a sandwich if he was hungry? Or do they sell ramyeon here too?" Minyoung was visibly confused yet the rest of ATEEZ were alarmed that someone was trying to hit on their member.

The situation could only make San laugh. It's an attack out of nowhere, a situation that seems like it was scripted for a drama.

"And what did you say?" Yeosang asked the question in everyone's mind

"Was I supposed to say something? He left in a hurry so the only thing I was able to say to him is thank you for the food." Minyoung answered while everyone breathes a sigh of relief, thankful for Minyoung's innocence and naiveity at this moment.

"From now on, you'll have to go with someone whenever you're going somewhere. You have to at least ask one of us or go with our manager." Hongjoong sighed

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Mintokki. The movie we watched last time? It refers to that." Mingi answered Minyoung who was still confused at what is happening.

"Movie we watched last? What about Stork-"

"Not the stork." Mingi chuckled explaining further "I can't believe it's time to teach you about this. So when mommy and daddy love each other-"

Minyoung blushed finally understanding why everyone got worked up. "Oh."

────────── ♔ ──────────

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. Any portrayal of real people is a combination based on what we could see on cameras and imagination of the author. This is purely fan fiction written for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner

I couldn’t think of a movie that’ll match and then I saw a photo of the movie stork on twitter and this happened lol so this is basically a product of my sleepy self + a random photo lol

-Mimi

08

[medicallyinevitable]

Medically Inevitable 

Chapter 14:- Pitiful Pining

Characters:- Ethan Ramsey, Arielle Valentine, Sienna Trinh, Ethan Ramsey, Harper Emery, & Danny Cardinal 

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine (F!OC)

Warnings:- Light angst & minor language 

Word Count:- 2000+ words 

And a special thank you to @akshara16 for pre-reading this chapter💞

Arielle’s PoV:-

You’re reading your 18th, well actually what seems like the 100th text book when someone knocks on your bedroom door. You answer with a more irritated tone then you meant.

"Hey, you okay?" The door opens to reveal Sienna with two mugs in her hands.

"Yeah...”, you try to smile but even you know it doesn't quite reach your eyes. 

"You don't seem okay though," Sienna says as she comes inside and hands you a mug. You look inside the mug to see what's in it. "I made us some hot chocolate." 

You smile, accepting your cup with a genuine thank you as you move, making space for Sienna to sit. 

"So what is it?" Sienna asks sitting beside you. 

You shake your head, just thinking about the case makes your head spin. "Just a patient’s case. I’ve been running test after test but every result was negative.", you sigh, "and the patient happens to be a major asshole to say the least.", You smile sadly. 

"Is it the P. I. T. A?" She asks. 

"P. I. T. A?" 

"Pain in the ass," she laughs, so do I. 

"Oh yeah… Danny mentioned that earlier. That name fits him perfectly!" I respond laughing. 

"So what do you think he has?"

"I don't know anymore," you sigh again, "I ran almost as many tests as possible." 

"I'm not any expert but maybe if the two of us try to find it, it'll be easier?" 

You look at her a bit surprised, "You'll spend your free time diagnosing my patient?" 

She smiles at me, "Of course. That's what friends are for right? To help you." 

You look at her with a grateful smile. "Thank you." 

"You can thank me with strawberry glazed doughnuts once we're finished with this.”, she replies with a silly wink.

"Deal." 

You spent the next thirty minutes discussing the symptoms as you catch her up with the diseases you've managed to ruled out. 

In between, you notice Sienna acting a bit weird. But whenever you try to bring it up, she deflects your question so you decide not to press further. 

Another half an hour goes by with Sienna’s weird antics and you decide you’ve had enough. You close your book and turn towards Sienna. She tries to act like she doesn’t notice you looking at her but eventually she looks up.

"What is it, Sienna? I can tell you want to ask me something but you’re not.”, you say.

"Uh-what?" she asks nervously, her eyes darting around everywhere but you.

"I don't know what you’re talking about." 

"Don't lie, Si!," you narrow your eyes. 

But she doesn’t budge. You keep asking her until she finally accepts.

“Come on Si, no secrets between us right?”

"Okay fine!... you’re hiding something, Ari,", shesays catching you off guard. 

"I-Me? I'm not hiding anything," you try to laugh it off. 

Now it's her turn to narrow her eyes. "You are! See, you’re behaving really weird."

"I'm not behaving weird," you oppose. 

"You are. And don't you dare deny it again.”, she says in a serious tone.

"You can talk to me, you know that right?” Her voice changes to the caring and concerned tone reserved for her closest friends.

You ponder for a minute, whether or not to tell her. You’ve shared so many secrets with Sienna before, you know she's your best friend and that you trust her completely. 

Before you know it, you start blurting out everything. From how Dr. Ramsey assigned you the case, to how he wouldn’t reassign him to someone else, and then your confrontation which was probably the most idiotic thing you could have done. Then how you both shouted at each other, you completely blanking out at the fact that he was your supervisor and could pull you from the program the next second if he wished, and how that lead to triggering a panic attack, then lastly…

“I don’t know how, our faces were mere inches apart, breathing ragged, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing-“ You throw your hands up, cutting yourself off as you jump up and pace around the room.

“I mean I could have kissed him for God’s sake! What was I even thinking?! If it weren’t for my pager I don’t know what I would’ve done…”

“Woah, calm down Arielle. You need a break.” She makes you sit down and drink a glass of water, waiting until you’ve calmed down a bit. 

“Now, tell me what else happened.”

“What?! Nothing else happened!” How Sienna knows you so well eludes you, nonetheless you try to hide it.

“Something else happened, or else you wouldn’t be spiraling this much. I know you Ari, you always have a cool head under any circumstance.”

You sigh, knowing there’s no use in hiding it. “Well I did see something…”

“Go on.”, she says urging you,

“Well it all started after the whole almost kiss thing, my brain was like scrambled eggs and my shift had already ended so I took my car and drove around until I realised I had no idea where I was, and to top that disaster off I was starving…”

———————A few hours before———————

“Ugh, I think I drove all the way to the other side of town. And I’ll have to drive all the way back to the apartment and then start research for Nigel’s treatment again. And I’m hungry because instead of eating lunch, I decided to unleash my wrath of Dr. Terminator. Ohh, can this day get any worse-“ In the midst of your little blabbering session, you spot a classy French cafe across the street. 

“Well at least a day this bad always has room for improvement, and right now I’m starving.”, you park your car and head inside.

The smell of roasted coffee and baked buttery goods hits your senses the moment you enter the cafe. The serenity is a nice change of pace compared to always busy and bustling Edenbrook, dimly lighted and decorated with beautiful vintage items.

“At least I won’t bump into anyone here that I know.”, you think as you stand in the queue.

You decide to order a vanilla frappe with drizzled salted caramel and go for a regular chocolate doughnut to satisfy your sweet tooth. After the barista brings your order, you move towards a nice secluded corner and sit down at the table.

You slowly finish your doughnut and coffee, savouring the taste as you gaze out the French style window. You’re about to dispose of your trash when a familiar sweater shirt catches your eye.

“No way…” As you hide your face with a medical journal which you randomly fished out of your purse, you peek over the top to see Dr. Ramsey sitting across…

“Is that Dr. Emery?”, your mind recalls the time when you saw them in a patient’s room, quite cozy with each other. And now they sit a few tables away from you, talking as her hand is over his. You pretend to read your journal as you watch both of the doctors get up and throw away the remains. You follow pursuit and slowly exit the cafe making sure they don’t notice. You stand at the side of your car door and watch as they both edge closer and closer, her hand now on his jaw. Their faces are barely an inch apart now, as he leans in to close the distance.

“That’s- I can’t-“ 

Not being able to look at them, you get in your car, slamming the door and speed away as fast as you possibly can, ignoring the tears that brim in your eyes.

————————end of flashback———————

”Oh Arielle…..I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright.”, you assure her when pretty much everything going on in your life is anything but alright. She gives you a look.

“I- okay well there’s nothing I can do about it, and it’s not like anything would have happened, it was merely a stupid crush.”, you reply wondering whether you’re trying to convince Sienna or yourself. A long but comfortable silence passes, you both just sit and immerse in everything you’ve just blurted out. 

"How are things between you and Wayne?", you say desperate for a topic change.

"It's as usual I guess?" she says now as gloomy as me. "We haven't had a proper conversation in a while."

You try to comfort your best friend as you mentally curse the idiot.

"He's an idiot, Si, " you tell her. "If he can't value you, he's not worth it Si."

"He was not always this way you know... We've had happy days. But ever since I started my residency he became... distant." 

You put your hand on top of hers in a comforting manner and give her an understanding smile.

"You can always talk to me about it, Si. You know that right?"

She nods and shoots me a smile, a sad one, nonetheless a smile. That’s a slight improvement.

We talk about our messes of relationships for a bit more before Sienna decides we had enough gloom and doom and it was time to make some happy memories. 

“Okay, what did you have in mind?”, you ask.

A grin forms on her face as she tucks her knees in and speaks, "Why did the Dalmatian go to the eye doctor?" 

“Medical joke hmm?” She nods and nudges me to try to answer. After thinking for a moment, I shrug.

"Because he kept seeing spots.", she says following with a fit of laughter. The joke isn’t even that funny but even you end up laughing your heart out. That's the thing with best friends, everything becomes a thousand times better when they’re by your side.

"Oh-" Sienna tries to say recovering from her previous laughter session, "There's another one."

"What did one tonsil say to the other tonsil?" 

"Umm...What?" you ask when you fail to find an answer.

"Get dressed up, the doctor is taking us out!" We both break into another fit of laughter, laughing till tears form in the corner of your eyes.

You wipe tears from your eyes, still smiling broadly.

Your own reflection catches your eye in the mirror. Your balayage hair is now slowly falling out from the messy bun you tied up before, your eyes now have bags in addition to your dark circles and lastly you look like a zombie with your smeared makeup.

“I look like a hot mess.”

Sienna laughs. “Well I have a night shift today so I’ll look worse than you after it.

You join her in another wave of laughter until Sienna’s phone goes off from her room.

You watch her as her eyes light up and then morph into worry as she looks at herself. You give her a look.

“Oh uh… Danny said that he would give me a lift to my shift and stop by to get coffee.”, she shouts as she rushes into her room. You chuckle watching her frantically trying to make herself presentable as she grabs her bag and heads downstairs.

“Bye Si! I’ll see you later-“ She’s already run off. With a smile, you head towards your room for a bath, dinner and then a date with more textbooks.

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

Authors’ Note:- Hey everyone, Chapter 14 of Medically Inevitable is finally out! We know that the release was scheduled much much earlier but life happens unfortunately and it took us quite a long time but from now on, our regular schedule will continue again!

Anyways, let us know if you enjoyed this chapter and your predictions of what will happen next! Are Harper and Ethan really a couple? And if they are, why did Ethan almost kiss Arielle? And what’s happening with Danny and Sienna? As always, it means a lot to us if you comment and reblog and have a great day/night everyone!

Love,

    @drariellevalentine & @mysticaurathings

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[unfunny-quips]

Of all the many people in the world who wanted him dead, All For One had to admit that he was rather surprised by the person who actually managed to both track him down and get past his impressive security.

He knew someone was there the moment he opened the door. Could sense the presence of another person in his high rise apartment that shouldn’t have been there. A steady heartbeat, unflinching and unafraid. Brave or stupid, he wasn’t sure, but they’d be dead either way once he wrung out of them how they’d gotten in and which of his security detail he was going to have to kill.

He shrugged off his coat - it was new and fit him well, he’d rather not get blood on it - and hung it up carefully by the front door. Slipped off his shoes and rolled his shoulders with a sigh. Though that particular apartment was not homey per se, there was something oddly comforting about returning to a living space that was entirely his own at the end of a day. Though centuries ago, a childhood fraught with uncertain living situations and inconsistent care had left marks on him that time and power had not fully been able to shake.

All the more reason to make the intruder’s death slow, as insignificant a threat as they were, they’d at least been able to find him. Which meant finding a new luxury apartment, perhaps even in a new city. And he despised moving.

He kept his steps light on the polished wooden floors, stopping by the oversized and little used kitchen for some water before he meandered his way towards the living room where his uninvited guest waited. Perhaps he’d throw them out the window, eighty stories up would make for a rather long time to think about their impending death. Or maybe tear them apart inch by literal inch so they had to languish in their suffering.

Setting his glass down on the kitchen counter he stepped into his spacious living room and paused at what sat waiting for him.

All For One, Emperor of Darkness, King of all Villains, Boogeyman of the Boogeymen found himself...uncertain.

There was a woman seated on his couch. Casually dressed and relaxed looking, knees drawn up and tucked beneath her, an open book bag on the floor beside where she sat and a law textbook in hand. She finished highlighting a section carefully before capping the marker and turning her gaze on to him, letting him see her face properly for the first time.

Green eyes were the first thing that struck him. Clear and bright and intelligent, set in a kind face. Her hair, also green, was swept down a little past her shoulders with half of it pulled up in a fluttering little bun at the back of her head. He was struck by two thoughts as he took her in.

The woman sitting before him was entirely unintimidated by him.

And...

She looked a bit like Nana Shimura. 

The woman tilted her head, seeming to take him in while he’d been observing her. She shifted on the couch a little, shutting the book softly and setting it down. Her heartbeat was steady, her gaze unflinching but not combative. Purpose seemed to flow off of her, as resolute as her steady gaze. He understood that she knew exactly who he was and felt no need for fear nor sense of unease in his presence. A strong will, he knew the aura he carried around him well and it was someone interesting indeed who could face the overwhelming killing intent that drifted off him in waves without so much as a flicker of uncertainty. 

“Hello.” She said with a soft, clear voice. The kind of ease one has with an acquaintance or a friend not often seen, not a stranger whose house she had invaded. “I’m sorry to have broken in like this.” She started, with the appropriate level of apology one would save for knocking over a stranger’s drink. “But I was hoping you’d be able to help me.”

He should be irritated, he should just kill her and get on with his evening, he should make her an example for anyone else stupid enough to think they could waltz into his home without consquence. 

He wasn’t irritated though. And he didn’t kill her. Instead he found himself oddly...charmed by the stranger that sat before him.

“Indeed?” He asked blandly, slipping his hands into his pockets before leaning against the wall casually. “I’m afraid you’re rather lost if you think this is a police station.”

The woman broke into a small smile, a soft huffing chuckle leaving her. Shaking her head she dropped her gaze for a moment and he saw the faint pink of a blush on her cheeks. He was, he realized. He was absolutely charmed by her. And it wasn’t even her Quirk doing it, hers had the feel of a gravitational telekinesis, not a mood altering ability. The woman that sat before him, who had broken into his home and casually asked him for help as if searching for her stray cat, was oddly endearing. And it had been a long time since he had found himself endeared by anything, let alone a person.

“Sorry,” She said, shifting on the couch. “I’ve probably done this all wrong. But I wanted you to know I was serious.” Green eyes met his own and he was struck again by the intelligence he saw in her gaze. “I don’t know why I thought this would be the way to do it but…” She gave a shrug, then slowly got to her feet. Careful not to topple her bag or trip as she untangled from her comfortable position on the couch. “Here, let me try again.” 

He watched as she gave a short, polite bow, hands clasped before her. A neat and polite introduction, complete with a soft smile as she rose to meet his gaze again. “My name is Midoriya Inko. I’m a graduate law student at Kyushu University, and I was hoping you could take my Sensei’s Quirk.”

Well. 

How on earth was he supposed to kill such a charming, polite young woman when she came to him with such an interesting request such as that?

He couldn’t, of course, was the answer.

---

Inko always had trouble with authority.

Even when she was very young she’d been prone to doing what she was told she shouldn’t just because an adult told her not too. Her father - in what faint and blurring memories she had of him before his death - used to call her his little revolutionary and would laugh over the hijinks her stubborn nature would produce. Then again, her father had his reasons to support the wholesale refusal to bend to the whims of authority. 

Trying to take down the corrupt system the government had put in place had been the cause of his death, after all.

Her mother had been far less amused by Inko’s acts of rebellion for rebellion’s sake. Always begging Inko to please just follow the rules just once honey with a perpetually exhausted look on her face. Inko’s only picture of her mother - a snapshot of the entire family at a park, her small frame held in her father’s arms a month before he would be killed - showed Nana Shimura with a wide, infectious smile in place. It felt odd looking at it in years to come, as Inko could only recall her mother looking mournful and sad in those last days.

It had been Kotaro that was the well behaved one of the two of them. Thirteen minutes older than her, he took the responsibilities of the eldest sibling with a seriousness that was almost frightening at times when they’d been children.

He’d been the one to tell her not to get into trouble, the one to reprimand her when she misbehaved. The one to tell her not to sneak out when they were teenagers in one of their many foster homes after their mother had given them up. Rule abiding, strict and, as they’d grown, more and more obsessed with control. Of her, of their situation, of whatever he could. A strangling, grasping bid at a control that had only led their already rocky relationship to splinter even further.

Her last conversation with him before she’d stopped speaking to him completely he’d told her that she should be a quiet housewife. She’d gone and applied to law school the very next day.

She still found herself wondering if that had been Kotaro being clever. Using her own contrary impulses to make her commit to something she’d always wanted to do but been too uncertain about to try and follow. It would have been the kindest he’d been to her in years if it was true, and she’d been too afraid to reach out to him to find out for fear that it wasn’t.

Instead she focused on her studies, focused on being the person she wanted to be instead of the person she’d been forced to become over the years. Not the abandoned daughter of a hero that had to retire too soon, but someone who was able to take the rules she’d been so long rebelling against and reshape them. Twist them under her hands until they settled into something she could believe in. Something she could follow.

At nineteen, after careful consideration and one less-than-helpful conversation with her friend Mitsuki she changed her name to Midoriya. On her twentieth birthday enjoying the fact that she could - legally - drink herself into oblivion, she cut her waist long hair off in a single ugly cut with the kitchen scissors. The next hour was spent in laughter as Mitsuki’s shy fashion student boyfriend Masaru fixed the mess as best he could. At twenty-one she clutched her best friend’s hand and gritted her teeth as a tattoo artist brought to life a stylized kitsune on her shoulder. A mark of the trickster she wished to become. And in between all of that, she proved herself to the academic world at large and earned herself a full ride to Kyushu University’s much lauded law program.

The work was challenging, equal parts exhilarating and mind-numbingly boring. She spent her days working hard to get top marks in every class, to ace every test, and impress every teacher with her sharp wit and unbending will. Her nights were filled with studying and working whatever jobs she could pick up to cover what her scholarships didn’t cover. Mitsuki teased her that she would get wrinkles from squinting at so many books, but her friend was always supportive. 

Years passed, semesters flying by in almost a dream at times, whisking her closer and closer to graduation and her dream of reshaping the system into something she could believe in. Despite her exhaustion, she’d found herself happier than she’d ever been in her life.

Which of course was the exact moment that it all started crashing down.

It started with one of the girl’s in the same program as Inko suddenly dropping the ball on her studies, the other woman’s grades began plummeting at an alarming rate. The girl -  Shibata Aiko - looked ragged and exhausted, unable to focus and eventually being dropped from the program entirely due to the issues with her academic performance. 

A few weeks later it was another female student shutting herself away in her dorm room for an entire week. The girl finally left her dorm looking haggard and sick, refusing to speak to anyone as she walked barefoot out into the wider world and immediately attempted to throw herself in front of a bus. 

Then one of Inko’s senpai’s - kind and serious Hanako who had mentored Inko briefly when she’d first joined the school - had what could only be called a breakdown in the school library. Screaming and crying as she began tearing up law books and flinging chairs.

Each incident was quickly handled and waved away as young women not suited for the high expectations and difficulties of such a high ranking university. Most of Inko’s classmates had been, if not content to accept that information, at least too exhausted by their own heavy workloads to question further.

But Inko never was good at accepting the will of authority.

[jazminebrightxx]

LIKE MAGIC

°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°l||l°

SHOW: Teen wolf

CHAPTER THREE: “works like magic”

EPISODE: 3x02 “chaos rising”

(part two)

The sudden fact and shock of Erica's death hung in the air, tension rising between Derek and Isaac. After Kaitlin had passed out Stiles grew worried for his childhood best friend. But the thought of the bombshell she had dropped on the two of them not even an hour ago still loomed in his mind.k

He looked at the brunette who sat on a table, her uncle looked here over, double checking she was okay, Stiles was confused, he didn't know how to feel about the fact that the girl he'd known his whole life was a supernatural. In one instance, he still just saw Kaitlin, the girl he had grew up with, the girl who's mom was best friends with his mom before she died. He saw the way her nose crinkled up when she laughed and the dimples when she smiled. Or how she played with her collarbone when she was nervous. Then on the other hand, he saw her in a whole new light, she was a witch, he'd seen her do it, she held Isaac down so effortlessly and was willing to hurt herself to help.

Kaitlin caught Stiles gaze, sighing, she says a few words to her uncle, jumping from the table and made her way over to the two friends, awkwardly standing in front of them.

"We should talk" she stated, her arms crossed over her chest, the boys look to each other, silently agreeing "okay" They make their way outside, standing near the redheads car, she leans against the hood as she crosses her arms.

"Why would you lie to us?" Scott questions, a scowl grows on Kaitlin's face, shaking her head slightly "I didn't lie to you, I'd never lie to you. I just..." she sighs, looking at her feet.

"My mom tried to hide it from me for the first few years of my life" she looks up at the two, slight hurt in her eyes

"When it finally happened she explained everything to me, but made me swear to keep it a secret" her voice was horse, her head still slightly sore.

"How'd it happen" Stiles questions from his place, standing against the wall across from the redhead

"Eight years ago" she starts "I came home from school after a really bad day" she takes a quick glance at Stiles, the boy listening intently. "Every little thing annoyed and agitated me, then I got really upset with my mom, which ended in me shattering my kitchen windows without trying" she chuckles lightly at the memory.  "she knew she had to tell me after that, I was young, but I wasn't dumb"

"She explained everything to me, but even if I was allowed I couldn't tell you guys" her voice wavers, emotion building up slightly, she looks to Stiles "you had just lost your mom" then to Scott "and your dad...you were just kids"

"Katie you were a kid too"

Kaitlin goes quiet, looking down at her feet, she sighs "it was so hard, when I moved away, it killed me. I hated it, the thought that I might never see you guys again, I thought that I would never get the chance to tell you guys the truth" she shakes her head, looking back at her friends.

"The reality of it set in when Lydia told me she knew" the two boys look at each other dumbfounded, Kaitlin laughs

"Yeah that's how I felt, she said something about a feeling"

"Psychic" Stiles mumbles

Scott steps forward, his arms slightly crossed "Katie, I think I speak for us both when I say, we don't blame you and we're okay with it" he smiles "but how did you know about... you know, me" Kaitlin smiles

"About two weeks before I moved back, deaton came to Boston for the weekend. He sat me down and explained everything, Peter, Derek, the kanima and what's currently happening, the alpha pack" Scott smiles with her "have to admit, I was speechless"

Stiles stands straight from his position, clapping his hands together. He walks forwards standing beside Kaitlin and wrapping an arm around her shoulder

"Well, I for one am very excited for all of the 'Sabrina the teenage witch' jokes I'm about to make" he jokes, Kaitlin laughs at him, wrapping her arm around stiles lower back, he pulls her closer, squeezing her comfortably

"Looking forward to it."

******

"She's not dead" Derek Hale yelled at his beta, Isaac flinched at the loudness of his voice, the two had been arguing over the status of Erica.

"Derek, he said, 'there's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation" Stiles explains, Kaitlin sat beside Isaac on a counter, rubbing her temple in irritation

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Kaitlin rolls her eyes, growing tired of the same conversation "someone else obviously"

"Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle." He looks to Isaac "the one who saved you?"

"No, she wasn't like us, and whoever was in the vault with Boyd was." Stiles crosses his arms, a sigh escaping his lips.

"What if that's how Erica died? They pit them against the each other during the full moons and see which one survives, it's like werewolf thunder dome" Stiles rambles, Kaitlin lets out a breathy chuckle, Stiles' humor always slipped through at the worst times.

"Then we get them out tonight" Derek pushes even further

"Be smart about this, Derek. You can't just go storming in" Deaton buts in. But Derek won't give up "if Isaac got in, then so can we"

"But he didn't get through the vault door, did he?" Kaitlin finally says, the alpha turning his gaze to her "we need a plan"

"How are we going to come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than 24 hours?" He questions the witch, a smug look on his face, challenging her. She gives him an exasperated look.

"Oh I don't know you tell me, your the one that plans on getting them out tonight?" She sits up from her position, Derek glares at the witch

"Uh I think someone already did" Stiles looks at his phone "beacon hills first national bank closes its doors three months after vault robbery" he reads from his phone, handing it to Kaitlin who skim reads over the article

"It doesn't say how it was robbed but it probably won't take long to find out" the girl hands the phone back.

"How long?"

"It's the internet, Derek. Okay? Minutes"

*****

Scott and Stiles went to stiles' house after leaving the animal clinic last night to try find out more about the bank. Kaitlin had told them she would stop by in the morning before school and see how they had progressed, what she didn't expect to see was the two boys Sprawled across the room, papers scattered everywhere, some coming from the printer, both passed out.

"Guys" she attempts to wake her friends, the two teens not moving "guys!" Still even at her raised voice, they slept soundly.

She crosses her arms, smirking, she kicks the chair Scott sat on, he falls from the chair, waking himself and Stiles up as he does.

The two boys smile sheepishly at the witch when they notice her, she stands tall smirking at the boys, wearing a light purple spaghetti string top over a long sleeve white T-shirt paired with denim high waist jeans and her converse.

Stilinski walks into the room, two cups of coffee in his hand, he hands Kaitlin one, the brunette smiles at him, saying a quick thank you

"I see you woke them for me" he laughs "time for school" he states, turning to walk out of the room "Wait, dad!" Stiles calls, his father turning back to look at him

"Heather?" Kaitlin's ears perk up at the familiar name, Stilinski frowns, shaking his head "no. Nothing yet" Stiles' face falls after his father walks out

The room is silent for a few moments, before Stiles speaks up "ten hours and nothing."  He states in frustration

"We're gonna find something" Scott reassures him, glancing at Kaitlin

"Finding something doesn't make Erica any less dead" Stiles argues, moving to clean his room "or Boyd any less about-to-be dead

"We still have time" Scott reassures further, Stiles glances at Kaitlin who shrugs

"Is this whole 'remain optimistic in the face of complete and utter disaster' thing apart of the 'be a better Scott McCall' program?" Classic sarcasm from the king of sarcasm, Kaitlin chuckles, trying to hide her amusement

"Not if it doesn't work"

Stiles sighs in frustration, crumpling a piece of paper in his hand "no, it works"

Kaitlin looks at the papers around the room "Uh guys, maybe your work isn't a total failure" she calls when she notices a newspaper article with Stilinski arresting a man outside beacon hills first national bank

She moves to show Stiles the article, the boys eyes widening and pushing the article to Scott, moving to run out of the room

"Dad! Dad! Wait! Dad!" He runs out of the room, Scott looks to Kaitlin who smiles

*****

Kaitlin jumps out of her car, parked next to stiles' Jeep. The boy groans when he jumps out of the Roscoe, waiting for Kaitlin to catch up to the two, when she does, Scott pulls out his phone and they start walking

"Alright, so we meet at Derek's at 5:00 to go over the plan, and then we don't get started until dark" he swings his bag over his shoulders, Kaitlin sighs

"Do I have to come, Derek's a bit of an ass" she states, Derek's attitude towards the whole situation yesterday make Kaitlin look at the man differently

"Derek's not all that bad, Katie. He's just sour about everything with Erica and Boyd" Stiles explains, reassuring the girl who nods "Yeah I guess, what do we do till then?"

"Well right now, we've got English."

*****

The school day had gone by like any other, boring classes and boring teachers.

After school, Kaitlin, Scott and Stiles met at Derek's like planned

"Okay, you see this?" Stiles pulls out blueprints and a red marker, marking a few places on the sheet

"This is how they got in, it's a rooftop air conditioning vent" he explains the route of the vault that the robbers had took

"It leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is here. Okay?" He circles the section where the vent is.

"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft, now that space is so small it took him about 12 hour to drill into that wall, which is stone by the way." He continues, glancing back and forth

"Then throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys in the roof, through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom!" He hits the table, putting the cap on the marker

"Can we fit in there?" Scott questions, leaning over the table and observing the sheet

"Yes, we can, but very, very barely." Stiles continues to hit the paper lightly as he talks "and they also patched the wall, obviously,so we're gonna need a drill of some kind"

Kaitlin watches the three men from a counter near by, her legs crisscrossed under her

"I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit.." Stiles starts to ramble again but is cut off by Derek

"Look, forget the drill." He states, Stiles freezes in his place, moving his fist slightly up and down "sorry?"

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" He looks down at the prints, his mind set in stone

Stiles questionably eyes him, glancing at Scott and then back. "What do you think you're gonna do Derek?"

"Are you gonna punch through the wall?" They straighten up, Derek crossing his arms

"Yes, stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall." Derek smugly smiles at the teenager

"Okay, big guy let's see it. Let's see that fist." Stiles challenges the taller man, Kaitlin straightens up to watch the scene unfold

"Big old fist. Make it, come on." He pushes further, growing cocky

Derek clenches his hand into a fist, his arms still semi crossed.

"Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah, look at that" Kaitlin snickers, earning a glance from Peter Hale who sat on the stairs

Stiles grabs Derek's wrist, putting his hand a few inches away from Derek's fist "Okay, see this?"

"That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid..." Stiles doesn't get to finish his sentence as Derek punches his hand, Sending him backwards in pain, he hits his hand against the metal table. Kaitlin winces.

Stiles whines like a dying cat, falling around the room, holding his newly injured hand "he could do it"

"I'll get through the wall" Derek ignores Stiles as he quietly whimpers

"Who's following me down?" He rests his hands back down in the metal table, looking at Peter

"Don't look at me." Derek's uncle states "I'm not up to fighting speed yet. And honestly with Isaac out of commission, your not looking at very good odds for yourself"

"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek questions his uncle

"Well one of them is already dead" Peter states, a sarcastic grin on his face

"We don't know that" Derek insists, Kaitlin rolls her eyes, sighing and jumping off the table

"Give it up Derek" she starts, all eyes turn to her "you do know what we're up against, right?"

"A pack of freaking alphas. All of them killers, ruthless killers at that. We don't even know all of them" the redhead crosses her arms, standing beside the table

"And if that doesn't scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them form together to make one giant alpha" she finishes, Derek looks to her curiously.

"She's right you know" Peter speaks up "I'm sure Erica and Boyd were great kids, they're gonna be missed" he finishes, stiles glares

"Can someone kill him again please?"

Peter looks back at Stiles, a stern look on his face. "Derek, seriously"

"Not worth the risk" he finishes, referring to the plan to rescue Boyd and the person in the vault

"What about you?" He looks to Scott, Stiles shrugs

"Yeah, if you want me to come..."

"Not you" Derek sternly denies, looking back to Scott

"Scott?" Stiles turns to look at his friend, pointing his thumb in the werewolf's direction.

"I don't know about Erica,but if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something" Scott states, Derek clenches his jaw but nods. Scott looks at Peter, he rolls his eyes and sighs.

"We have to try" Scott pauses, Derek raises his eyebrows "but?"

"Who's the other girl" he turns to look at Stiles and Derek "the one locked in there with Boyd?"

You should know, I am slow with updates. IM SORRY. but anyway have this crappy update :( I promise it gets better and Kaitlin is my favorite oc I’ve ever made so get ready to get to know her more.

[ofstarsandfireflies]

@just-inside-her requested this and I’m so sorry it took me so long to get around to it!

Only you.

Having been told twice now who she would marry, Faith finally meets him.

Stephen was curious.

I mean, how could he not be? He had an infinity stone that showed him the future!

So, one day, when the curiosity becomes too much for him, he uses it to see what lies in his future.

And he thinks there must be some mistake.

Why would he and Thor be together?

How would they even meet? Stephen was in Kamar-Taj and Thor only came to Earth when there was an Avengers emergency, and even then he only stayed in New York.

There couldn’t be any truth to it.

He doesn’t look again for some time after that.

Maybe it was a fluke, or a mistake or some kind of magical interference, whatever the case, so Stephen looks again, just to make sure it wasn’t.

And he sees himself.

And he sees Thor.

It can’t be real.

But what if it was?

What if he and Thor were meant to be together?

And pretty soon it’s all he can think about.

So when he hears Thor is back on Earth, he decides to go and meet him.

He needs to be with Thor right now or he’ll go insane.

Many voices tell him it’s a bad idea, Wong’s the loudest, all telling him to calm down and think, but he can’t.

This is his destiny and he won’t be kept from it.

So he goes to New York and Wong decides to follow purely for the entertainment.

They go to the Avengers compound and Stephen asks the first person he comes across if Thor is here.

And Rhodey is very confused because no one ever asks for Thor.

Cap, maybe, Tony definitely, but never Thor.

So he says no, Thor isn’t here.

He’s with the Iron Legion testing out the new armour Stark has made for him.

There are about one hundred suits flying about out there and Thor is in one of them.

Stephen knows he should leave and try again another time.

Maybe if he signed up for the Avengers he’d have more a chance to meet him.

But he can’t with all the Sorcerer duties he has.

Ok.

New plan.

He flies around and asks every single one of those suits if Thor is inside it.

Yeah. That could work.

He’d be able to tell with that accent of his.

It shouldn’t take too long.

And then he sees some suits walking around, having just flown in from their patrol.

And then all the others walking around him.

What if he just came in? There’s got to be a thousand bloody suits walking around the joint!

Stephen is going out of his mind.

Where the hell is he?!

As Stephen is having his breakdown, Wong is asked by one of the suits what’s wrong with him.

If only it truly knew.

Wong decides to leave Stephen be, not noticing the suit of armour making its way to his friend.

And Stephen knows he’s making a scene, and probably scaring everyone, but when he hears that Asgardian accent coming from the suit, he turns.

The face plate doesn’t lift, but he’s finally found Thor.

Something about Stark tech he doesn’t understand, but they can still walk and talk, as he would very much like to get to know Stephen.

And it feels just like it was meant to be.

The hours slip by and Stephen never knew how smart Thor was going to be.

They can converse so easily, matching the other’s wit even the other’s sense of humour.

They are perfectly perfect for one another.

Thor holds his hand, buys him a single rose from a small flower stand and as the night slips into a new day, the two are crazy about one another.

That is until Stephen leans in to kiss him and the faceplate finally lifts and his lips touch lips for the first time, eyes fluttering open to see not Thor, but Tony Stark.

Yeah he’d kinda programmed Thor’s vocals into all the suits, partly as a joke but mostly as a cloaking mechanism.

And Stephen had just kissed him.

Tony’s trying to apologise for the mix up while also trying to dodge all his attacks and stop him from leaving, managing to tell Stephen he can get him to meet Thor just as one of Stephen’s hits lands.

Stephen stops immediately.

Ok. New plan.

Tony introduces them when Stephen finds something far better to wear.

Tony has a better idea.

Why don’t they go get a suit for him later today, Tony’s treat.

So, Stephen agrees.

He supposes that would be the best way for Tony to truly apologise.

Stephen is fitted for a rather nice Tom Ford three-piece two button, Tony’s idea.

And it looks absolutely amazing on him, even Wong has to agree.

Tony feels all the air leave his lungs at the sight, Stephen’s cheeks blushing at the wide eyed stare Tony is giving him.

Tony moves in first before anyone else can and tells Stephen he loves him, taking his cuff links off his own suit and gently lifting Stephen’s hands to clip them on for him.

But Stephen’s not meant to be with Tony.

He’s meant to be Thor.

So why can’t he just tell him that?

Why won’t the words just come out?

With Stephen dressed, they go off to meet Thor, who’s in the swimming pool at the Avengers compound with at least a dozen women.

And Stephen knew he shouldn’t have come, that it was a bad idea.

Thor is right there, shirtless, showing off his chest to anyone who will look, surrounded by gorgeous women.

Why would he give Stephen the time of day?

So he turns around to leave again when a voice calls out to him.

And Stephen freezes.

Thor is walking up to him.

Thor is talking to him.

And he’s acting so casual about it while Stephen is feeling like he’s about to burst into flames.

Finally, somehow, managing to ask the Asgardian if he’d like to have dinner before he makes a complete fool of himself, he almost faints with relief when he agrees.

And when Thor agrees, Tony’s heart sinks.

As Thor and Stephen enjoy their night out, Wong is enjoying a bag of chips next to Tony, who is listening in on the conversation thanks to the ‘cufflinks’ on Stephen’s suit.

He can’t believe half of the answers Thor is actually giving to this perfect man.

The nerve of him, having Stephen all to himself and not being able to keep him entertained.

He’d march right in there and save Stephen the embarrassment of talking with him further if he hadn’t promised to let them have the night together.

Just dinner, nothing more.

Tony sighs, leaning back against the bench he’s sitting on beside Wong.

Wong wonders how far ahead Stephen saw.

It couldn’t have been very far if Stark was never part of it.

He wonders if what Stephen was shown was truly his destiny or just something that was going to happen.

But when he tries to bring this up to Tony, Tony’s not really interested.

Stephen and Thor are having a great time apparently, and if Thor was who Stephen wanted to be with, he wasn’t going to ruin that.

His feelings didn’t matter. Stephen’s did.

And Thor was a lucky man to have the heart Tony knew would never belong to him, no matter how compatible they were.

So Tony leaves them to enjoy the night, just as Thor mentions to Stephen how he should thank Stark for talking him into this and paying for their meal at such a fine establishment.

Stephen is shocked.

He hadn’t expected Tony to pay for...wait...Tony had to talk Thor into going out with him tonight?

Well, yeah, only after Stark had promised to tape his favourite show of course.

And as Thor continues to shove food into his mouth, Stephen has to excuse himself.

He rushes out of the restaurant to where Wong is sitting, who just points him in the direction Tony sulked off in.

Thor might have been part of his future, but Tony was who he wanted to spend it with.

Thor doesn’t mind, of course.

He got a free meal out of helping Tony.

And his shows were taped, of course.

Quotes -

“Life’s not like it is in the movies, right?”

“No, it’s not. Although from day one everyone conspires to tell you it is. Your mother, your father, teachers, priests, everybody. Dreams come true, the good guy wins, people live happily ever after, all that crap. Then one day you wake up and realise that life should be...different.”

Stephen and Wong discussing life

“What’s up with your friend is she ok?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know, she’s looking for the man of her dreams, he’s around here some place, she’s never even met him, never even laid eyes on him if you can consider that alright.”

“Huh. Well it’s none of my business but if she’s never met him, how does she know he’s perfect for her?”

“I don’t know. Don’t know.”

“He’s some kind of celebrity?”

“No, no.”

“What is he like a hero? Mentor type thing?”

Tony asking about Stephen to Wong

“Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

“Faith. My name is Faith.”

“Smooth. Very smooth.”

Thor agrees to dinner with Stephen while Tony miserably watches.

“So...you’re probably wondering why I asked you to dinner.”

“No, not really, it happens all the time.”

“...right...”

Honestly if the man of my dreams said this to me I’d punch him in the face.

Destiny

Stephen’s seen the future. His future.

But it’s not with who he thought.

Missed a Day? Catch up here!

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Day 21

[knifeshoeoreofight]

Part 3 of ?

(part 1 here)

(part 2 here)

They fall into a pattern after that. Sid works in the labs during the day, going over previously gathered data and doing just enough to keep Bettman thinking that all is well. Natalia teaches him the staff rotations and camera locations to allow him to reach the observation room without being caught, and they meet up there in the middle of the night to discuss their plans.

Natalia just calls the being “malysh” most of the time, but Sid had wanted to call him with his name. The being had only laughed in a riot of color and explained that Sid had no hope of replicating it with human vocal cords. Much of the being’s communication, aside from color and telepathy, he explained, was subsonic, at frequencies too low for human ears. 

“Evgeni,” Natalia says firmly, in order to move the conversation along. “Good Russian name. Can call you Zhenya for small.” 

I like it the being--Zhenya-- had replied, radiating mental warmth in response. 

 “Zhenya,” Sidney had said, testing the sound of it in his mouth. The lights on Zhenya’s body had all flickered in response. 

Now, they have the rudiments of a plan. Zhenya needs some of the equipment on his ship, badly. 

My kind, he explains. We….adapt, easily. I can stop your gravity and atmosphere... from killing me. But I need my ship. 

Their communication comes so much easier now. Sid wonders if there’s some kind of link or connection that grows stronger with use. He knows that it still takes effort and that Zhenya has to rest after long sentences, but the gaps are becoming shorter. Zhenya’s personality, vibrant from the first, comes through even more clearly now. Sid can see why Natalia is so fiercely protective of him, and he aches thinking about the suffering he’s had to endure until now. 

I will be able to assume an almost human biological form he tells Sid one night. Tell me...what is considered good, to your species? In a person’s form. 

His lights are all soft yellow and his eyes are wide and innocent-looking. Suspiciously so. When he imitates a human facial expression it’s deliberately done. 

Sid flushes. “You mean, like, what is aesthetically pleasing? Or um.” 

Lights pulse, a rainbow of other colors flickering through the yellow. Your species is very focused on...reproductive availability, correct? 

“Oh god,” Sid says, feeling his face heat up even further. “Uh. Well, height is considered pretty important, for guys? And, um.” 

Reproductive organ size? Zhenya says, still wide-eyed and butter-yellow with what Sid is beginning to think is faux-innocence. 

“Such a dick,” Sid blurts. His face feels like it’s on fire. 

Not yet Zhenya sends, smugness radiating from the words like bad cologne. 

“You told me last night that your people have monitored our radio and television signals for decades,” Sid accuses. It had floored him to learn, but it explained Zhenya’s ability to speak human languages, albeit telepathically. “You know exactly what is considered attractive to humans.” 

I only want to program the DNA successfully, Zhenya claims.

“Uh huh.” Sidney rolls his eyes, but has to smile as Zhenya’s lights edge toward pink. “Sure you do.” 

***

Sid has more than a few overwhelming fears about their plans. 

“If I disappear at the same time you do,” he says, one night about two weeks in. “They might come after me once I return home. They’ll be watching my place, probably.” He feels terrible even bringing this up. Zhenya and Natalia are both risking so much. 

Once I have adapted Zhenya tells him, lights flowing down his skin in a way that seems intended to comfort and reassure. I will still have some of my abilities, and my technology. I will be able to protect you. 

“You’ll be staying with me?” Sid asks. “After this?” 

Zhenya goes very still. If. If you consent. 

“Of course,” Sid says. He feels a strange sense of relief. The scientist in him, of course, wants every opportunity to continue to learn about extraterrestrial life, and the rest of him has begun to grow...fond of Zhenya. His curiosity, his surprising playfulness. His affection for Natalia. 

Sid leans his forehead against the glass. He’s exhausted from weeks of fractured sleep and strung out nerves. They’re alone tonight- Natalia’s husband has a cold and she stayed home from work to care for him. 

Zhenya leans his forehead against the glass as well, making one of his low, rumbling hums. 

It was my dream, he thinks wistfully. All my life. To come and study this planet. I’m not ready to leave it. I just need to be free of this place. 

“I know,” Sid says softly, and tries something new. Just like the times he sends thought Zhenya’s way, he tries to send the complicated bundle of emotions lodged in his chest. Fear, affection, resolve. 

Sid is all Zhenya sends back, and the glass between them trembles with sound that Sid mostly feels, rather than hears. 

He has the strangest sense that there’s more that Zhenya would like to say, but he holds his peace, moving instead to the less emotionally fraught topic of the facility’s containment breach protocols. 

***

After a while, there isn’t anything more to discuss. There is only the execution of their plan. 

Their saving grace is that due to the paranoia of those running the facility, nothing so much as a laptop camera is allowed in the observation room. They decide then, that getting through the window is their best bet, as they will have at least two hours between guards making security checks of the room. 

Sid has access to the equipment storage area for the research department. He manages to steal a reciprocating saw and an acetylene torch easily enough, hiding them in one of the equipment lockers close to the observation room. He packs a backpack with only the absolute essentials, and makes his way to where Zhenya is waiting for him, tense and pacing as they wait for Natalia to arrive. 

When she arrives, she wastes no time. She presses a wrapped package of food into Sid’s hands and kisses him on both cheeks. Sid has to swallow and clear his throat before he can ask her how preparations went. 

“Pipe is blocked in office block. All cleaning staff go there, big mess.” 

Sid nods. They have to get Zhenya out, then time their race to reach the hanger just right to avoid security patrols. 

Natalia pauses, then presses something heavy into Sid’s hands, wrapped up in what appears to be a flowered tea towel. 

He goes cold all over when he realizes that it’s a handgun. 

“I’m take from guard’s room,” Natalia says. Her expression is worried but her gaze is flinty. Whatever it takes, her eyes say. 

Sid’s hands shake a little, but he checks the safety, and tucks the weapon in the waistband of his jeans. The reality of it is, he doesn’t know how to use a gun properly, and the guards here are most likely going to bring him down and ask questions never. Some of the tension leaves Natalia’s shoulders though, and that is enough. 

The plexiglass of the viewing window proves insanely difficult to deal with. It emits billows of noxious-smelling smoke as it melts, and when Sid has to alternate between the torch and the saw. His shoulders and arms are burning and sweat is running off him in rivers as he grits his teeth and shears through the window centimeter by hardwon centimeter. They’re cutting a diagonal across one of the corners, hoping for the sealant to fail and make for fewer cuts. 

His brain is just an endless loop of come on come on come on come on as beside him Natalia starts to murmur what sound like prayers. 

A glance into Zhenya’s enclosure shows smoke collecting at an alarming rate. His lights are flickering a sick green-yellow that turns Sid’s stomach with worry. 

Finally. He hits the edge of the window and starts in on the massive bolts on the frame, working his way down from the top as Natalia starts in on the ones on the bottom. 

They’re not going to have enough time. There’s no way. Sid wedges a crowbar under the edge of the frame and heaves on it, with a strangled grunt. Natalia grabs on as well and they both haul on it as Zhenya pushes on the opposite side. 

There’s a horrible squeal of metal on metal, and, miraculously, the frame gives. The plexiglass falls out of it with a thud.

“Go, go!” Natalia cries. She pushes Sid’s bag at him and he throws it over his shoulder. He turns and holds out his arm to support Zhenya as he folds himself through the gap. He’s lighter than he looks, as if he’s hollow-boned as a bird. 

Quick.

He extends a tendril to Natalia and she holds out her hand. Sid watches in puzzlement as Zhenya’s lights flare. 

It is an honor, Natalia  he says. 

Natalia’s eyes are wet as she hurries them out of the room and down the long corridor to Zhenya’s ship. Sid can hear an alarm start to blare in another part of the complex. 

“Be safe,” Sid tells her with a final kiss to her cheek. She nods, and takes off. She has to make it to an electrical panel that will allow her to throw the fuses for the hanger bay. 

Come, Zhenya tells him, and they take off down the endless hall, sirens and flashing lights now blaring around them. Zhenya stumbles, and Sid has to haul him upright. 

As if in a slow motion nightmare, just as they turn a corner and the hanger doors come into view, Sid registers a guard standing there, raising a radio to his lips. 

Sid reaches for the gun before he can think. Sweat-slick palms, nothing but the drum of his heart in his ears. 

He fires. The shot goes wide, the guard swivels, bringing up his own weapon. 

Sid fires again. The guard goes down, clutching at his leg. Before he can reach his dropped weapon Sid kicks it away. He wants to lean over and vomit. 

Later.

The guard’s key card opens the doors for them, at least, and as they run inside, the lights all go down, save the faint glowing ones on the ship itself. 

Past the electric barrier erected around it, up into the gaping entryway that opens at Zhenya’s touch. 

Hold on Zhenya thinks tersely at him, as Sid half collapses against a bulkhead, lungs burning. 

The ship hums to life, and Sid sways on his feet as it rises into the air. Zhenya is standing inside a curved, organic looking arch, a web of light rising around him as the ship turns, screeching and throwing sparks as it brushes the hanger walls. 

The doors are corrugated steel, and Zhenya had told them that his ship can break through. Sid still closes his eyes as he hears the thrum of the engines increase in pitch. Nothing around him had looked anything like an identifiable jumpseat or safety harness, so he just braces himself against the bulkhead. 

Then the ship’s sudden acceleration presses him back into the wall like an enormous hand, there’s a jolt, an awful shearing sound of metal on metal, and the floor beneath Sid tilts. 

The ship is shuddering, G forces pushing on Sid until the edges of his vision start to go dark. He might be screaming. Everything is sound, and roaring, and pressure. Time itself seems to stretch.

Then, easy as a sigh, the pressure lets him go. The floor rights itself, the engines calm. 

Sid is on the floor on his hands and knees, panting for breath. When he can raise his head again, he looks up, out of the cockpit window.

Beyond it is deep, velvety black- too deep and dark to comprehend, spangled with a billion points of light. 

The stars.

***

Sid is lightheaded with residual adrenaline and his hands shake with fine tremors. His eyes greedily devour the sight outside as he stands in front of the main viewing-window- the blue of the sky going cold and deep at the very edge of space, the infinite blackness beyond the fragile curve of the earth.

“Zhenya,” he breathes, and turns to look at him.

Zhenya is manipulating the web of light that must make up the controls, but he seems unwell. He’s hunched over a little, and his breathing seems rasping and labored.

Sid realizes, with a flood of guilt, that he’s able to breath perfectly, and that the gravity of the ship, after the press of rapid acceleration had ceased, feels normal to him.

“Zhenya,” he says urgently. “The life support systems. You’ve set them to human parameters, haven’t you?”

Zhenya blinks at him, slow. You would suffer ill effects from my species’s ideal parameters.

“Maybe of atmospheric composition,” Sid says. “What about gravity? Does your species need higher or lower gravity than humans?

Lower.

Sid sighs in relief. “That’s fine then, my species has done great in zero-g, even, without too many ill effects. Go ahead and change it.

Zhenya does something, and Sid grins like a child as his feet slowly leave the floor. Zhenya sighs, taking a deep, rattling breath that sounds, to Sid, relieved.

“This,” Sid assures him,”Is so fucking cool. I’ve dreamt of stuff like this, space and weightlessness, my whole life.”

Zhenya’s lights pulse, and Sid feels a swell of wordless affection wash up against his thoughts.

Zhenya just feels so fond when he looks at Sid. Sid doesn’t know quite what to do with that so he turns to look out of the window again, just in time to see the Baltic Sea slide by underneath them.

Something occurs to him. In all this planning, they hadn’t considered-

“Uh, where are we going,” Sidney asks.

I need time for the adaptation  Zhenya replies. I still want to conduct my research. I could take you anywhere. I have earth resources we can use.

Sid has to stare out the window at that a little. Instead of northern Norway, he watches the reflection of Zhenya’s lights, gone gently blue and pink.

He’s sitting in a spaceship. He’s sitting in a spaceship with an extraterrestrial and he’s on the run from a shadowy government organization. He shakes his head.

“I don’t even know,” he says softly, and for some reason, he thinks, “I shot someone today,” and his hands start to shake.

Sidney. Zhenya moves to stand behind him, and he rests one of his long-fingered hands on Sid’s shoulders.

He can feel...regret, he thinks, bleeding across the connection of their minds. He turns to face Zhenya.

“I’m so glad we got you out,” he says decisively. “I am.”

You are… Zhenya pauses. Extraordinary. You and Natalia. You have both risked so much for me.

His eyes are fathomless, his face as unreadable as it ever is. But the pulse of his lights and the warmth in his mind tells Sid everything that his expression won’t.

Sid, for some reason, feels his own face heat. “It was the right thing to do.The humane thing.”

Humane, from the word for your species Zhenya thinks, and his mind does something that feels a lot like the equivalent of a smile. You humans are creatures of such staggering contrast and potential.

Sid can’t meet that steady gaze anymore. He looks out of the window again. Are they over the North Atlantic?

“So this adaptation,” he asks. “What is that going to entail?”

Natalia brought me a hair of her husband’s and one of her own. I will be very nearly as if I had been their son.

Sid shakes his head in amazement and feels a curious sense of loss. All that Zhenya is, all of his otherworldly beauty, compressed into a human shell. Necessary to live on earth and fulfill his dream, perhaps, but still.

I look forward to a mostly human body Zhenya goes on. I will only hold up to the most rudimentary medical scrutiny, but I will definitely stop being killed by your environment—at least not any faster than you. He flickers his lights wryly.

I will need to spend about an earth month in a nutrient bath as my DNA is re-programmed and my body restructures itself. The DNA from Natalia was the final piece, the rest of the scaffolding was already completed as part of the preparation for this expedition.

“You guys really can just rewrite DNA, huh,” Sid says, shaking his head.

Our technology for genome manipulation arose out of necessity, Zhenya explains. My people were dying out. After we discovered space travel, we discovered that almost everything foreign to our planet caused our DNA to mutate. We were fragile. Luckily, we developed the technology before it was too late.

Sid cannot help but think,for a moment, of children dying of cancer. Of his grandfather losing his mind to Alzheimer’s.

I’m sorry, Zhenya says, having probably ascertained some of that from Sid’s thoughts. The ability to accept radical gene therapies and be effectively re-written is a particular trait of my people’s DNA. Our technology would not be of any use to humans, to my regret. You are noble to think of it.

“Ah, well,” Sid says. “We’ll have to muddle through on our own, then.”

Zhenya flickers at him, then tilts his head to one side.

You grow tired, he says. The extensive telepathic communication is hurting you.

Oh. Now that he’s paying attention, Sid can feel the beginnings of a headache throbbing at his temples.

“We never decided where we were going.” He has to laugh a little.

We will stop at your abode, and then-- Zhenya doesn’t finish the thought, but Sid gets a quickly stifled mental flicker of... palm trees?

Wherever you would like, Zhenya defers politely.

“It’s your research trip.” Sid smiles at him. “What was your plan?”

Zhenya’s lights glow excitedly. In my research I encountered several cultural artifacts of popular entertainment set in Miami. One in particular seemed to imply it would make an excellent hiding location for those involved in espionage and covert operations.

“Are you….talking about Burn Notice?”  Sid says, and laughs. Why is that so cute? “Face it, you just want to go to the beach, eh?”

Maybe so Zhenya replies, and his mental tone is a warm as a smile, even if his slit of a mouth doesn’t move.

“Sure, let’s go.” Sid winces as a bolt of pain stabs his temples.

Rest, Zhenya tells him both in word and in a soothing ripple of light. I shall take you to your home and we will then travel to our next hiding place after you have gathered your belongings. Please. He motions to an entryway in the rear of the cockpit.

When Sid goes where he’s bidden, he finds a handful of compact rooms. One is dimly lit, with soothing colors playing over the walls and a white, squashy blob the size of a king mattress on the floor.

Just to be sure, Sid hollers up the hall. He doesn’t want to end up sleeping in the equivalent of an alien toilet. When he receives the affirmative that it is, in fact, a bed, he puts down his pack and takes his shoes off, studying the weird, organic shapes of the room’s mysterious furnishings.

He snorts out a laugh when he notices, enshrined in a wall niche, a little collection of earthly looking doodads including, of all the fucking things, a Funko Pop figurine. He goes over to look and the objects make him smile. There’s a pine cone, a dented tin can of baked beans, and a postcard from Seattle. He knew Zhenya was fascinated with Earth but this tenderly displayed cluster of random artifacts just drives it home.

The bed is strange. The surface feels like silicone rubber and velvet had an oddly comfortable lovechild, but it’s pillowy and soft and he drops immediately off to sleep as soon as he lays his head down.

***

Sid.

Sid jolts awake as though his name had been spoken aloud, not just into his mind.

Zhenya is leaning over him.

How is your head?

Sid’s head feels a little like it usually does after a big headache- sort of like it’s a fishbowl made of brittle glass that he needs to be careful with. But it’s manageable.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes. “Where are we?”

The roof of your apartment building.

That wakes him up. “Okay, nice. Are you coming in with me?”

Zhenya’s lights flicker excitedly. I would love to finally visit a private human domicile.

Sid smiles. The thought was accompanied by the same feeling of giddiness he imagines you’d get from a kid walking into a toy store.

***

Sid’s apartment is thankfully on the top floor, and they get Zhenya inside without incident. Zhenya does something with some sort of scanning device and his thoughts pulse with concern.

We should not linger. This building is being surveilled.

Fuck.

Go Zhenya tells him. I will keep watch.

Sid’s place is dim with all the shades drawn, and the still air with its closed-for-weeks smell adding to the surreality of it all as Sid makes his way through his rooms with a pounding heart.

What do you bring with you when you might be leaving life as you knew it behind for good? He grabs a duffle bag, then decides he doesn’t have time to be tidy and finds a garbage bag in the kitchen. He can organize later.

A couple changes of clothes, his backup hard drive, a photo of his parents. Does he take a bottle of shower gel? It’s not like he’s leaving the planet (ha). There’s going to be a CVS or something in Florida.

In goes his favorite quilt that his grandmother made him. A coffee mug he’s fond of from his sister. A stack of research materials and books that he’d hate to lose. There’s no reason he can’t keep working. A few more things get shoved haphazardly into the duffle and the garbage bag.

Just in time he realizes that he should probably grab his birth certificate and social security card. Just in case he really never comes back. Shit, what about rent? If he keeps paying rent, can the Russian organization that held Zhenya hack in and find out, tracking his credit card usage?

Too much to think about now. He’ll have time. He’s supposed to be in Russia for another month, in any case, and it’s paid in full.

He has everything he can’t do without. He takes a last look around. He has the strangest feeling that he’s never going to see the place again.

He shoulders the duffle and nods at Zhenya.

“Let’s go.”

***

[selenophile-1]

Unknown

A Zach Addy fanfic

Chapter One

Pilot

My feet thud against the tile floor of the Smithsonian, I was running through the building trying to find the medico-legal lab. I was supposed to be here yesterday. as I got to the doors I hunched over and took a couple of deep breaths before pushing open the door.

as I walked in a girl in a blue lab coat walked up to me "Dr.Holmes?" I nodded and she led me to an office.

It smelled of vanilla and peanut butter, as I came into hearing range the women behind a set of computers were saying "..... processes it and then projects it as a three-dimensional holographic image." She was pretty, her hair was tucked into a messy bun, and her face was symmetrical. She was so close to perfection.

There were two other people in the room, tucked away behind the large hologram. The yellow lighting that was making the room almost uncomfortable heat, along with the sweet smells of this office it reminded of spending time with the other rich family's as a child.

I was stood behind the women sitting in the chair observing, as a man, who stood beside the women, who- I assumed was an agent of some kind- nodded and said "okay" he was wearing a cocky belt buckle and colourful socks, but anything other than that was very official. A dark black suit paired with a simple white dress shirt, and simple black shoes.

Doctor Brennan who was glancing around waiting, looked at him "you got that?" she then spotted me standing behind the large man and she smiled "Dr.Holmes!" I smiled back at the slightly older women and walked up beside her. She looked different than when I last saw her, Her hair was short, probably do to some heat and she looked darker-maybe from spending time at a dog site. "You're a day late." She stated giving me a glance over

I laughed, "well my brother needed me for a case" I glanced at the agent who had moved from beside the women to behind Dr.Brennan “I'm so sorry I'm late"

She smiled at me and laughed, at my excuse "Dr. Holmes, you and your brothers are extraordinary! I wouldn’t care if you were a week late.” She looked at everyone else who seemed to be stunned at my presents. "This is Dr.Iris Holmes"

I smiled at everyone around the room, before looking at Dr.Brennan, "I'm very happy I get to work with you, Doctor Brennan and your extraordinary team” 

Dr.Brennan nodded at the women at a set of computers. and she glanced over at me “well let’s begin” she muttered before beginning to type "Brennan reassembled the skull and applied tissue markers. " she said

She, along with the rest of us watch as the hologram began to form "Her skull was badly damaged" Dr.Brennan began to point at the hologram "but racial indicators, cheekbone dimensions, nasal arch, occipital measurements suggest African American."

The woman behind the computer put in the information Dr.Brennan had indicated, "And.... We have our victim" she said and on the hologram was an upper body of a female.

The agent placed his hand into the hologram slowly and wiggling his fingers while whispering " Whoa... Have to admit, that's pretty cool."

Dr.Brennan removed the agent's hand from the hologram with a very annoyed look on her face, before facing the woman then back at the hologram " Ang, rerun the program substituting Caucasian values." the image altered slightly, and my eyes got wide. then Dr.Brennan asked exactly what I was thinking "Does she look familiar to anyone?"

at the same time, I nodded and said "yes" the agent muttered a silent 'No'. I glanced at him then back at the hologram "can you Split the difference, mixed race."

"Lenny Kravitz or Vanessa Williams?"

I looked at the woman who I assumed was Ang. "I'm not sure what that means" she looked back down at the computer and I went back to looking at the hologram slightly embarrassed, the women adjusted the face slightly.

Dr.Brennan continued to look at the hologram for a couple of seconds before saying "Angela, reduce tissue depth over the cheekbones to the jawline." the agent looked from the skull to the hologram. I walked over to the skull and gently touched the grove's and curves.  "does anyone else recognize her"

one of the other guys in the room, his hair was unkempt and longer than the agents, answered Dr. Brennan "not me" but I did and apparently so did Angela.

"Wait, is the who I think it is"

"The girl who had the affair with the Senator?"

the agent sighed and placed his hand against the system "Her name is Cleo Louise Eller... the Only daughter to Ted and Sharon Eller." he looked over at the skull again, as everyone looked at him " Last seen approximately 9 pm, April 6, 2003, leaving the Cardio Deluxe Gym on K Street" he looked back at everyone "she didn't even make it to her car."

"pretty good memory" Dr.Brennan commented, shifting from one foot to the other while crossing her arms.

the agents put his hands in his pockets and said "yeah well it's my job to find her"

The last guy, who was on the shorter side with curly hair that was messy and looked to be tangled in its self, rocked back on his heels and said "Well, in that case, congratulations on your success"

"This isn't exactly the way I wanted it to end."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

The group wearing lab coats sat on the steps eating, I was standing with Dr.Brennan and the agent-whos name I learnt was booth-on the landing before the stairs began. Booth continued the conversation with "Cleo Eller is not just some missing girl." He looked all around at each of us.

As Booth's gaze landed on Dr. Hodgins-the man with the curly, tangled hair-He said "Yeah, she's a senate intern who was boinking Senator Allen Bethlehem."

"I was secondary in the investigation to the disappearance of that girl and we couldn't confirm that." Booth looked down at the case file in Dr. Brennan's hand, he looked at me then back to the doctor "how did you two recognize her before she even had her own face?"

Dr.Brennan glanced at me then back to the case file and continued to talk to Booth " I recognized the underlying architecture of her features" she looked up at him "and the rest is just window dressing"

Zach looked at Booth-who had a strange look on his face-, then at Dr.Brennan "I'm not an expert but, shouldn't he be happier?"

" Oh no, believe me, I'm happy."

"You look happy to me"

Booth looked at Angela, Hodgins, And Zach and pointed at them with file "I need this kept quiet."

"Ha! Cover-up" Hodgins yells pointing down at Booth

Booth, followed by Dr.Brennan began walking down the stairs "Paranoid conspiracy theory."

"Is it paranoia that Monica Lewinsky was a KGB trained sex agent mole!"

Brennan and Booth got further away until I could no longer hear what the two were have a conversation about when I turned to the three of them sitting on the stairs "Are the remains clean?" Everyone stopped eating and looked at me, "what?"

[spacecakes20]

Begin Again

(Chapter 7)

Chapter 8: Luna, Missing Blueprints

Luna’s spring harvest wasn’t anything spectacular. She tried her best not to beat herself up about it; it was her first harvest after all. But the fact that she was losing more money than she was earning bothered her. She wanted to save up to invest in her farmhouse. She just couldn’t survive on a mini-fridge and a microwave anymore. She needed a real kitchen.

      “Perhaps you could invest in a chicken coop!” The local carpenter, Robin, had told her. “It’s cheaper than the house upgrade, and you can make extra money off the eggs and mayonnaise.”

      She’d kept that in mind, as she made her way to the library. Perhaps she could put in some research on chicken rearing. And maybe beekeeping too. Robin had given her a blueprint on building bee houses, and she wanted to put it to good use.

      It was the first day of summer, and the air was as humid as ever. The sun hung high in the sky, the sound of cicadas filled the air, and the smell of nectar caressed her nose. It was an upgrade from the sounds of honking horns and the overwhelming smells of exhaust from broken down cars of the city. The air felt much fresher in the valley. Cleaner. The sounds of nature were much more calming than the chaotic noise of the hustle-and-bustle of Zuzu.

      At the library, Luna collected any book related to farming she could get her hands on. She wanted her summer to be better. She wanted to prove that moving to the Valley wasn’t a mistake. She wanted—

      “Luna!”

      The young farmer turned to the sound of her name. She was greeted by plump rosy cheeks and bright violet hair. Abigail was seated at one of the desks behind the bookshelves.  

      “Hello, Abigail.” Luna greeted, almost shyly. She still wasn’t used to how close everyone seemed to be in Pelican Town. In the city, people usually went ignored. You were but a single drop of water in the large ocean of the masses. Insignificant.

      Abigail had a stack of books next to where she sat at the table. From reading the spins, Luna saw most of them were history and archaeology books. A lot of the others seemed to be based on the occult and witchcraft. She had an open textbook, with a notebook beside it, paragraphs of words already written inside.

      “That’s an… interesting assortment of books.” Said Luna, a bit intrigued.

      Abigail followed her gaze to her pile of books she had. “Oh yeah.” She laughed, “I’m an archaeology major.” She clarified, “I’ve got final exams coming up.”

      That… didn’t explain why she had books about the occult, but Luna decided to ignore that, “That so?”

      Abigail nodded, “Yup.” Then, more softly now, “You know the mines in the mountains?”

      “Yeah?” Luna answered, unsure where this conversation was going.

      “Well, I’m going to explore them!” Abigail said, more confidently, “Figured no one could stop me if it was my job, ya know?”

      Luna nodded, not fully understanding where she was coming from but didn’t want to sound rude by asking.

      “What about you?” Abigail pointed to Luna’s books with her pencil, “What are you reading up on?”

      “Oh,” Luna looked down at her books, and suddenly felt a little sheepish, “Just some books on gardening. Raising chickens and… beekeeping…” She didn’t want the townspeople to think she was incompetent. She was the granddaughter of a farmer, for Yoba’s sake. Wasn’t this kind of thing supposed to be in her blood?

      But she wasn’t met with a look of condescension, but was surprised when she got an excited smile instead, “Oooh, are you going to make honey?” Abigail licked her lips at the thought, “When you do, let me know! Mom makes the best honey cakes!”

      That caught Luna off guard, “S-sure.” She tried to collect herself, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      Abigail simply smiled, “Well, I won’t keep you.” She said, “I’ve gotta cram anyway. I’ll talk to you later!” Then she went back to her studying.

      It was almost sad how refreshing it was to hear words of encouragement that sounded genuine, rather than condescending kindness. Luna decided not to dwell on it, deciding to check out her books instead.    

                                                          ...

After spending a few hours on her farm studying, Luna was starting to feel restless. She decided to get started on building those bee houses. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t find the blueprint. Try as she might, it was like it up and disappeared. She’d thought, with how small her farmhouse was (it was just one room!), it’d be easy to find, but alas; she was out of luck. Perhaps she could go to Robin’s and get another copy. That seemed to be her only option.

      She made her way up the mountain, taking in the fresh air. The hike to Robin’s house always felt relaxing, even if it didn’t seem to last too long. Standing in front of Robin’s shop, Luna rang the doorbell. It was only out of politeness. The carpenter had told her many times that it was okay to just come in, but Luna never felt comfortable doing that.

      After standing there for what felt like forever, she decided to ring it again. Perhaps Robin couldn’t hear her. The kitchen was in the back of the house, right? Maybe she was making lunch. But the longer she stood there, the more she second-guessed herself. There was a possibility she wasn’t home. Her shoulders deflated with that thought. She was looking forward to putting together the bee houses. It looked like she’d just have to wait another day. Just as she was about to turn and leave, she heard the door open.

       Her face lit up, “There you are Robin—”

       That… wasn’t Robin at the door. It was her raven-haired son, Sebastian. He wasn’t wearing his black hoodie she had gotten so used to seeing him in. He had on a gray tee-shirt and some black sweatpants. He was as pale as ever, making his purple bags under his eyes more apparent. He looked exhausted, making Luna feel guilty.

        “I’m sorry,” She winced at the sound of her voice, “Did I bother you?”

        He closed his eyes, putting his hand behind his head, “Not really,” He said, “I was already upstairs.” He opened his eyes and looked to her. His face was unreadable, “Mom went grocery shopping.”

        “Oh…” She tried not to sound disappointed, and summoned the brightest smile she could muster, “Well, please let her know I stopped by.” Before she even took two steps, Sebastian spoke up.

        “Wait.”

        She turned to him, eyeing him curiously.

        He hesitated for a second, as though he was weighing his options. Finally, he said, “She should be back soon. You can wait for her inside.”

        That… took her by surprise. “Are you sure?”

        He simply nodded, opening the door for her wider. She hesitated for a moment. It was very hospitable of him. Unsure with how to respond, she decided to smile, “Thank you.” She said, making her way into the house. He closed the door behind her. The foyer, where Robin did her business, felt smaller standing next to Sebastian. Perhaps it was because he was so tall.

        “It’s a lot cooler in the basement.” His words brought her mind back to the forefront. She blinked at him in confusion. It took a while for her to register what he had said.

        “Oh!” She laughed at herself, “Thank you.”

        He led the way to the hallway, which lead to a doorway. She assumed that must have led to the basement. Come to think of it, she had never come this far into the house before. She normally did business with Robin at the front desk and left.

        Sebastian led her down the stairs, and, upon opening the door, led her inside. She was first met with cool air. He was right, it was nicer in the basement. Getting a good look around the room, it was surprisingly neat. The bed was freshly made, clothes in the hamper instead of beside it. She was too used to people her age being more… disorganized.

        She noticed Sebastian had made his way to a computer desk. He had two desktops; the one he wasn’t on looked to be for gaming. The LED lights kind of gave it away. Behind his desk was a bookshelf. She must have made her way over there on autopilot because she didn’t remember the walk. She examined the spines, reading them off one by one. There were all kinds of books lined up. Books on programming, gemology and mineralogy, comic books, and graphic novels. He also had his fair share of sci-fi, fantasy, and adventure novels. She recognized a few, from when she used to have time for reading. She had stopped when Charles told her she was “too mature to enjoy childish books.” The sound of typing snapped her out of her thoughts.

        “One second,” Sebastian said, typing something up on his computer. He stared at the screen for a minute, perhaps checking his work, before turning his attention to Luna. “Sorry, busy working on a project for a client.”

        That piqued her interest, “A client?” She asked, giving him her full attention, “What do you do for a living?”

         He paused. He looked to be eyeing her carefully before allowing the words to leave his mouth, “I freelance.” He said finally, “A freelance programmer, specifically.”

        “A freelancer, huh?” She responded, impressed. “That’s pretty cool. You’re like your own boss, then?”

        He laughed, but it didn’t sound humorous, “I guess you could say that.” Before Luna had time to think about Sebastian’s response further, his computer pinged. He sighed. Without even looking at the screen, he said, “It’s Sam.” He sounded almost exasperated, “He just won’t stop messaging me.” Just as he spoke those words, his door opened. Robin’s bright freckled face peeked through. She looked surprised to see Luna there. Luna suddenly felt self-conscious. Like she’d just been caught alone in a man’s room. Well, she was alone in a man’s room. But not like that.

        “Oh, hey Luna.” Robin sent her a smile before turning her attention to her son, “Sebby, I’m just letting you know,” She started carefully, “I ran into Abigail at the store. She said she’s looking for you.”

        That seemed to have made Sebastian's shoulders deflate, as he sat back in his chair. He ran his fingers through his hair, slowly, “Did you tell her I’m working?”

        Robin looked almost guilty, “I did…” She looked at him apologetically, “But she said she may stop by anyway.”

        That only seemed to earn a groan from Sebastian. Robin sent him a sympathetic smile before turning her gaze to Luna, “If you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen making dinner.” With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

        Sebastian put his hands on his face and took in a deep breath. “No one seems to take my job seriously.” He mumbled, pushing his hands through his already messy hair. Luna wasn’t sure if she was meant to hear that. “No one bothers Maru when she’s busy at the clinic.”

        Luna could have taken that as an opportunity to leave. She could have given Sebastian her thanks and followed Robin. She could have done that. But she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. She could never take the easy way out, now could she?

        “So…” Her voice drifted. Sebastian sent her a look from the corner of his eye. She had his attention, so no sense in turning back now, “A programmer, huh?” She said, searching her brain for the right thing to say. She knew what she wanted to say, but finding how to say it always proved difficult. “That’s pretty impressive. Self-taught?” She recalled seeing more than a few computer science books on his shelf.

        “Yeah,” He sat back in his chair, “Bet if I had gone to school, I’d probably be making six figures by now.”

        Luna couldn’t hold back a snort, “Yeah, and you’d be spending most of it on student loans.” She laughed almost bitterly.

        A ghost of a smile graced his lips, but it was gone too quick for Luna to realize if it was even there in the first place, “I just…” He looked away from her, eyes focused on his keyboard, “…Don’t want to be part of the cooperate rat race, you know?”

        She got that. Boy did she get that. Climbing the cooperate ladder didn’t require hard work. Not like how she was taught. No, it required connections. It didn’t matter how good you were at your job, if you weren’t friends with the right person, you’ll never make it out of your position. It was disheartening seeing people get promoted over someone who was better qualified. And all because they couldn’t play the game. It happened far too often.  

        “If it makes you feel any better…” Luna smiled, trying to lighten the mood, “I got a degree in economics. Now I’m a farmer. So now my degree is the most expensive mouse pad that I own.”

        That earned the amused response she was hoping for. Sebastian shook his head, “Economics, huh?”

        “Mom wanted me to become an accountant.” Luna shrugged. More like she wanted Luna to get a "real job" when she told her mother she was thinking about majoring in Fine Arts. But Sebastian didn't need to know that. "Didn't work out that way, but hey, what can you do."

        He nodded before turning his head to the ceiling. Leaning back in his computer chair, he looked to be lost in thought. “I plan on moving to the city.” He seemed to have surprised himself with that statement, as though he didn’t mean to say it out loud. At least, not to her. He sat up straighter in his chair, “Not too many work opportunities here in the valley.” He cracked his knuckles before his hands hovered over the keyboard. He looked to her, his face back to its default stoic self, “Don’t think I’m kicking you out,” He said, “But I need to get this finished by tomorrow.”

        It wasn’t so much as a hint, as it was a huge neon sign. Contrary to what he was saying, he was, in fact, kicking her out.

        “Alright.” She made her way to the door, before turning to Sebastian, “It was nice talking with you.” And she meant it. It was perhaps the first real conversation the two had alone together. He didn’t word his response, simply humming back to her. He was probably too focused on work. She didn’t mind. She had invaded his space long enough. In the meantime, she needed to ask Robin about those blueprints so that she could get back to work too.

[anywhozits]

All I Really Want Chapter 8

Rating: M

Pairing: Hansanna now / Kristanna eventuallyyy

Verse: 90s High School AU / frozen retelling

Chapter Summary: Anna still celebrates her 15th birthday.

Notes: Thank you for reading!! Warnings in this chapter include profane conversations and underage drinking.

READ ON AO3 HERE

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices echoed through the entryway of the Larsen’s Newport Peninsula beach house.

Hans flipped the light switch and several grinning faces beamed back; hands raised in an excited stupor.

“Happy birthday, Anna!” The chorus echoed.

Anna’s eyes lit up as she scanned the crowd—all her best friends were there. Kristoff, of course. Sven, Olaf, Ryder, Ashley, Bebe.

They’d hung a banner, somewhat shoddily painted by the likes of probably Kristoff, and the gesture made tears prickle in Anna’s eyes.

Hans threw a hand over her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Thought you deserved a rager, too.”

Anna laughed, tears still prickling. The fact that he thought she deserved anything…

And then she turned her head and saw Elsa, cheeks still red from her tipsiness, and Anna lost it into quiet sobs. “Thank you, guys!” She could barely choke this out.

“Ashley and Bebe arranged the whole drink situation and I think that’s in the kitchen? If we all wanted to do a round.” Hans’s hand had floated down distinctly to Anna’s ass. Her cheeks burned.

When she noticed that Kristoff had narrowed his eyes at the pair of them, she bit her lip nervously.

Was Hans right?

No? No. Nonono. Forget this, Anna. Forget. It.

And she did.

Music started blasting from who the hell knew where, but it was Pony by Ginuwine which meant this was officially a rager, and Anna was already so drunk she felt a little wobbly. But she was also super excited for this shot.

Because there were so many people who loved her and it was her birthday and she spent the first bit with her parents and Elsa and now all her friends…

Whew. Deep Breaths.

The emotions overwhelmed her again and she felt the tears flowing, but she trudged into the kitchen anyway.

Kristoff had beaten them there by a mile and already poured all the Don Julio shots into tiny red plastic cups, handing them out with a smile and a wink (to Anna at least).

“Anna, happy birthday,” he said, smiling, raising his plastic cup.

Her heart fluttered a little and she just knew her cheeks had turned a deeper shade of crimson.

“Anna, hi! God, it feels like I haven’t seen you in five-ever.”

Anna giggled. “Hi, Olaf.” Her eyes narrowed when she saw her friend holding one of the shot glasses. Olaf said he didn’t want to drink until college. Good on him, she thought. Knowing the massive hangover, she would have tomorrow made her think Olaf had a sixth sense. “What are you drinking?”

“Red bull.”

She laughed heartily at that one. “Red Bull? I’m gonna have to send you on a run along the beach to get all that energy out.”

“I’m great!” He exclaimed way too excitedly.

“Okayyy, attention, attention!” Sven cupped his hand over his mouth to give himself a little extra volume over the beats of Pony. “Anna is 15! And happy surprise party to her – tonight, we drink. Thanks to Hans for arranging this little shindig. Thanks to us for getting the party started. Are we ready?”

Everybody cheered.

“Then without further ado… arriba, abajo, al centro, al dentro.”

Ashley and Bebe had naturally forgotten the salt and the limes and literally any chaser other than red bull, so Sven was met with many horrified coughs. But at least now the job was done.

Anna jumped up and down. She thought the tequila hit her instantly. “Hot tub?!”

“Beers to go!” Hans opened the fridge and started chucking Coronas to everyone as the ran out to the front yard.

It was completely pitch black already. Nobody could see anything but the eternal blackness of the boardwalk, the sand, and the ocean. Even the BBQ area and the hot tub were hard to discern. Still, soon enough everybody shed their clothes and hopped in, realizing a little too late that the hot tub was not, in fact, hot and instead actually somewhat cold. But they were too tipsy to care.

They were all squeezed in – Elsa and Anna next to each other, with Hans to Anna’s right and Ryder to Elsa’s left. The rest had filed in wherever they saw fit.

“Hey, uh—Elsa. I hear you’re going to Pomona?” Ryder asked in an especially friendly manner.

“Yes. I’m doing a pre-college program now to get in the swing of things.”

“Ah. Rad.”

“Mmhmm,” Elsa nodded while sipping her beer.

“My sister’s going there too!”

“Really?”

“Yeah—her name’s Honeymaren. She’s cool. I bet she’d love to know somebody before starting, if you’re—if you’re cool with that, I can hook you up.”

Elsa blushed. “Hook me up?”

“Yeah, you know—put you in contact, whatever—so you’ve got a friend before you start.”

She bit her lip. “Oh, sure.”

Then he laughed. “Ohhh you thought I meant hook you up hook you up. Nah. Didn’t mean it like that. And anyway, I don’t know what the whole dude sitch is there, but I’m sure you two could find that whole shebang out together.”

“Yeah,” she swallowed. “Maybe.” And then let out a long breath.

“Let’s play a game, let’s play a game!” Olaf chanted.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Anna squealed. She loved games. “Okay! Which game?”

“Ten Fingers!” Bebe yelled a little too loudly. She was at least two shots in. “You put out ten fingers and then someone says, like, never have I ever… given head or whatever and if you’ve done it you’ve gotta drink so everyone knows you’ve done it!”

“I’ll go first,” Hans smirked, snaking his arm around Anna once again. “Never have I ever flown coach.”

Elsa, Anna, and Kristoff were visibly the only ones who didn’t drink.

Kristoff next. He narrowed his eyes, furrowed his brow, and then spoke, “Never have I ever flown. In a plane. Ever.”

Drinks all around, and Sven immediately had a response ready, “Never have I ever done drugs, other than weed.”

Hans was the only one who drank anything.

“Interesting,” Sven said.

“Never have I ever been drunk!” Olaf exclaims, his go-to answer for this kind of game.

Groaning in unison, they all polished off a bit more of their beers.

“Never have I ever watched porn,” Bebe said with resolve. “I want some real dirt.”

Anna, Elsa, and Ashley and the boys minus Olaf took proud sips of their beers.

“WHAT?! You’re telling me girls watch porn? The hell?” Ryder can’t shake his confusion.

“Um, duh,” Anna rolled her eyes. “We’re not another species.”

“Never have I ever…” Ashley gulped, unsure where to take this. “Blacked out.”

Anna’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh.” Anna drank her beer, frowning when she realized it was empty. “Aww. All gone.”

“I’ll get some more,” Hans murmured. “This game’s lame anyway.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “You’re only saying that because you’re losing or … winning—which is it?”

“Winning,” Hans said as he climbed out of the hot tub and turned away.

“I can help you carry stuff!” Olaf ran after him.

“Okay. My turn,” Ryder bit his lip. “Um. Never have I ever been in a band.”

“You suck,” Kristoff whined.

“Yeah, Ryder. Go to hell.” Sven flipped him off.

Elsa, next, rubbing her hands together nervously, eternally unsure. “Never have I ever…eaten a hamburger?”

“Shit, really?” Sven was more than taken aback.

Elsa nodded, prompting everyone to drink even more. Anna grabbed Elsa’s beer and took a couple gulps from it.

Aaaand okay. Now—officially—all of the alcohol hit Anna. The world kind of … actually very noticeably so started spinning.

“Laaaaame,” she said, her words starting to slur a little bit. “We’ve gotta kick it uppa nosh, hmm? Never… have I ever… had sex in a forest.”

Nobody drank.

“Hmmm… nobody? Nah one body? Nah any one of you? Okay.”

Kristoff scooted closer to Anna and puffed out his chest. “Never have I ever had sex on the beach.”

Anna took Kristoff’s beer this time and stared deeply into his eyes while she drank sip after sip. Again, nobody else drank.

Then Sven. “Never had I ever had sex in the car.”

Anna deliberately sipped on the beer again.

“Never have I ever had sex in a hot tub!”

Anna laughed maniacally and took several long gulps of the beer. “Nah this one though! I… swear!”

“Good,” Bebe replied, scrunching up her nose. “Well, um. Never have I ever had sex.”

Anna took an uninspired sip. Not dramatic when they knew all the other places she and Hans had explored… but when she looked around and noticed not a single soul except… was that Elsa drinking?

No way. Elsa?! She’d have to debrief this later, like. Majorly.

But, seriously? Nobody else? Like... shit.

Why had they taken it so far with all those random spots, then? Almost like... they were baiting her or something.

And besides… more than anything, it surprised her. Anna thought most everyone had done it. At least, she hadn’t considered herself particularly early, really. But if Ashley hadn’t done it, despite Hans making it seem like they’d hooked up before, then Anna was beyond confused. Crisis mode. Because if they hadn’t and in general if Ashley-the-17-year-old hadn’t… then oh freaking snap maybe she was early. Not that she regretted it, but. It still felt weird to be one of the only ones. She didn’t want to feel like a slut or something. Shit.

Yeah. Okay—she was a slut. Anna Larsen, the slut. Shitshitshitshit.

Except, there was that one silver lining.

Elsa drank, too.

No wonder she gave such good advice about doing it for the first time.

Ashley shrugged. “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

But Anna could think of nothing but the word slut on repeat so she couldn’t begin to comprehend who drank to that one.

Slut. Slutslutslut. Slut. Anna’s a slut. Anna Larsen’s a slut. Slutslutslut.

But… at least she was winning the game? Right?

Yeah. When Anna looked down at her hands, she realized she was crazy close to officially sealing the deal of her win.

Or did winning this game make her more of a slut?

This was hopeless. Might as well embrace it. She had no regrets.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Anna proudly showed off her right hand. “I only have wwwww-one finger left!” And then, all of a sudden, she remembered the most important, juicy detail of the night. So Anna backtracked, leaning over to her sister. “Wait. El…sa. You had sex? Why di’it you tell me?” She had tried to whisper but in her drunken state had abysmal volume control.

“You saw me drink?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You didn’t… did you see me drink for any other ones?”

“Mmm, couple. But I dun care about those. Lass I saw for drink wash the sexy time one and I wanna know the story! Story time, story time!”

“I don’t want to tell the story, Anna. And it’s … it’s not exactly what you think. It’s different, but… I’m not ready to talk to you about this, okay? I... I wouldn’t have answered it if I were sober.”

“You sure soun sober, sisser.” Anna took her index finger and jammed it into Elsa’s chest bone. Her cerulean eyes looked glossy and lost. And then she jutted out her bottom lip. “Come on, tell me!”

“Another day, okay?”

She huffed and blew a piece of wet red hair out from her face. “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, grumbling, “Beee that way. Another day, wha-evah.”

Elsa bit her lip. “Hey, you know what?”

“Whuh?”

“I think I need to eat my words about Hans.”

“Yeah?!” Anna’s eyes lit up and she squealed. Not a slut, not a slut.

“Yeah. He’s… he seems like a good guy. He put in a lot of effort for you today. I can’t believe he talked to mom and dad, I mean—that’s a huge effort in and of itself.”

Anna giggled and nodded. “Huuuge.”

“So, anyway, he’s—"

“I got more drinks!” Hans called from the sliding glass door. Olaf bounded in after him. “Would’ve been back sooner had Olaf not talked my ear off about everything he loves about Anna.”

Olaf shrugged. “Wanted to make sure you know how special she is.” And then he hopped back into the hot tub.

“Awww,” Anna cooed, giving Hans a sloppy kiss on the lips as he handed her the drink. “Thanks babe.”

“No prob.” His eyes became half lidded and he didn’t let go of her face, bringing her in for another kiss, even sloppier this time, definitely with tongue. One hand trailed down her body and onto her thigh—her upper thigh, and he squeezed her skin. Anna shivered and kissed him deeper.

Fuck it. Slut or not a slut she was happiest here, like this. With Hans.

“Um. Dudes? Game’s not over.” Ryder tried to wave his hand in their peripheral vision, but all four eyes were decidedly closed.

“Earth to Anna? Earth to Hans?” Sven had started full-blown yelling, and at the same time Kristoff had retreated to his shell, his eyes also closed for some reason.

Anna giggled. “Hah—earth. Thassfunny, Ashley.”

“Um. It’s Sven. I’m Sven.”

“Oh-kay, yeahhh. Sure, you are, Ashley. Thassa good one too. I didin know you were so fuuunny!” Hans’s hand squeezed her thigh again. “Should we finish the game?”

“I think, maybe…” Elsa looked around, trying to garner support from her sister’s friends. “We can just say you won?”

Anna giggled and pumped a fist into the air. “Yeah! Cool! Go me!”

“I’m gonna get you some water.”

“Thanks, sisser,” Anna said, yawning. “Soo… whadda we do now? Ooh! I know! Go… I wanna go… swimming!”

Before anybody could stop her, Anna raced out of the hot tub and then to the beach.

Kristoff chased after her.

“Anna, Anna, wait wait wait wait!”

She spun around so quickly that her body couldn’t take it and she fell dramatically onto the sand with a huge plop. “Oof,” she exhaled before cracking up.

He dashed to her side, sliding with ease on the sand, somehow, and making sure she was okay.

Then, he reached out one hand and touched her protectively on her shoulder. She shivered at the touch, smiling when she noted how soft and kind his brown eyes were in the moonlight.

“I wanna go…schwimming.”

“In the ocean?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Are you… are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt. I want you to be safe.”

“You…wan me to be safe?”

“Yeah, I—I do.”

Anna thought back to what Hans had said earlier. About Kristoff being pathetic and all that—it wasn’t true. Anna knew it couldn’t be true, but… she wanted to tread those waters maybe a little more than she wanted to wade out into the actual ocean. “Because you looooove me?” Okay, there it was. Out.

A palpable silence overcame them both.

And then Anna leaned back so her head rested on his chest. Kristoff hesitated initially, but then steadily draped his arm around her shoulders.

Still silent.

In a flash, something happened, a penny dropped maybe, and Kristoff tensed up completely.

Okay, so ... either Hans was right, or ... he was completely, utterly wrong and Anna just made a complete fool of herself. Great. Excellent. Wonder-freaking-ful!

Anna couldn’t let this silence go on for any longer. She whispered, “Like a sisser.”

And then he sighed, “Yeah.”

Ha! See, Hans? Her not-boyfriend was so frigging wrong.  Kristoff loved her like a sister. Not... whatever.

But then why did Anna suddenly feel so disappointed?

“You my bessfrien,” she sighed into his chest. “Thank you fo keeping me safe.”

He didn’t say anything else, just held onto her tighter.

Until.

“Anna!”

Hans’s voice.

“Anna! You didn’t actually go swimming did, you?”

Anna laughed and tried to stand back up but had much difficulty, swaying so heavily that Kristoff came to her aid. “No!”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“To bed? Oooh.” She tried to strut toward him, but her stumbling created a real fall-risk. Hans rushed to help her, shooing Kristoff away in the process.

Within seconds Hans’s mouth was on hers again, like in the hot tub, to the same graphic degree. All Anna could think was yes. She was so happy. He planned the most perfect birthday she’d ever had in her life and now she was here kissing him. Yes—happy. Perfect. Best birthday she could ever wish for.

All thanks to Hans.

Kristoff visibly grimaced and tried to push past the couple. He grumpily uttered, “Goodnight,” but this word made Anna perk back up.

“Kris?” How had she forgotten he was here? Dumb shit, Anna. Drunk or not. Kristoff continued to trudge away from the couple, but a very determined Anna clumsily sprinted to catch him. “Sorry bout dat. Um—thank oo for tonight. I… is been a guh-reat birthday.”

He stopped the second she caught up to him and let out a sigh. “You’re welcome, Anna.” His eyes darted to Hans quickly. “Are you… I know you’re—are you good to, um, be with him tonight? I meant what I said earlier—I want you to be safe. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Anna nodded and said, “Thanks, bessfren. I’m great—safe! Happy and in loooove.” She smiled blissfully and impulsively got up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his right cheek. “Goodnight, Kris!”

His eyes grew to the size of saucers and his cheeks flushed red.

“Good…good morning! I mean night. It’s night. Um—goodnight. Goodnight, Anna.”

But by the time he finished speaking, Anna was already back with Hans, kissing him fervently, and paying Kristoff no mind.

[ericsonclan]

Falling For You

Summary: A part of Duck's past is revealed while on a date with Oakley. Oakley gives the address where Duck can meet them for their next date but no further details.

Word Count:

Read on A03: 3407

Life was good. That’s what Duck thought to himself as he contentedly chowed down on a burger while sitting in the corner booth at Ericson’s Diner. Across the table from him sat Oakley who was chewing upon a grilled cheese sandwich rather thoughtfully. Duck’s eyes pulled away from his burger to look over at his paramour. That’s what he liked to call Oakley. They both agreed it sounded gender neutral and romantic at the same time. Aasim had mentioned something about it not meaning what they thought it did, but Duck had never gotten round to looking into the exact meaning. Gulping down his current mouthful of food, he caught Oakley’s eyes. “How’s the food?”

“Crunchy,” Oakley took another bite, nodding in approval. Duck knew that was one of their favorite textures; the sandwich looked to be a success. He was glad. Some thought of Oakley as picky, but Duck always found it fun to try and guess what they would enjoy. Between the cushy booth seats and the enjoyment they were finding in their sandwich, Duck figured Oakley would be down for having more dates here. It was good news for him. Ericson’s Diner was usually one of the last delivery stops Duck made and besides he loved the people and the food here too. Making the diner a regular date spot when it was the first place they’d met sorta felt romantic to Duck too.

“Well, I’ll be damned. If it isn’t ol’ Duck Callaway,” The voice made Duck flinch. He looked up to see his memory had served his well. Roy Fortner stood before him, a girl Duck didn’t recognize on his arm. The young man smiled at Duck. No, not a smile. It was more of a knowing sneer. “Whatcha doing these days, Ducky?”

“Having lunch, same as you probably,” Duck mumbled. He looked over to see Oakley was still intently focused on their sandwich, seemingly unaware they had company. Good. Hopefully Roy wouldn’t say anything to them.

“Whatcha up to these days, Ducky? My old man got me onto the force just like I always said he would,” Roy flashed a smile over to the girl on his arm who seemed enchanted by his boasting. “How bout you? You flying airplanes now? You were always blabbing on and on about them,”

“No, I…” Duck cleared his throat, crumpling up his napkin. “I drive a delivery truck,”

“Huh. I guess that is more your speed tho. Get this, Carrie,” Roy turned to the girl on his arm with a devious grin. “We used to have another nickname for old Ducky here in school. I bet you can guess what it was,” He paused for a moment but not long enough for her to answer. “Dumbo! We called him that cause of his ears, see? Big as dinner plates! And cause he always talked about flying. But I guess you never did, huh, Ducky?”

Duck wanted to say something. Flying school was expensive; he was still saving up. He still had a long path ahead of him but he’d get there someday. But nothing came out. It was like he was stuck back at the lunch table at school, waiting for the teasing to pass.

“Anyway, it was good seeing you again. Later!” With a two-fingered mock salute Roy ended the conversation and strolled away with his girl on his arm, leaving Duck in an overwhelmed stupor.

After a few seconds though Duck looked up and saw Oakley’s eyes were on him. “Sorry about that guy, he’s a real jerk. I was hoping I’d never see him again but I guess the town’s not big enough for that,” Duck looked down at his half-eaten burger, his appetite gone. “He told that girl about the nickname as if I liked it, like it was a nice thing. But it wasn’t. They wouldn’t just say it when I talked about airplanes or even cause of my ears though they did that a lot too. They’d say it…”

Duck paused, his emotions from those days coming back. “I’m not the smartest. Not at life and not in school. So whenever there was a test or the teacher passed back papers they’d grab them and see how bad my grades were and tell the whole class. The teachers would tell them to shut up but they never did. Just kept calling me Dumbo every time,” He glanced up, suddenly growing self-conscious of his candidness. “Sorry, that was probably oversharing. Not like we’ve been going out long enough to say heavy stuff like that. I’m just…” The word ‘dumb’ drifted through the air between them, unspoken.

Oakley finished the last bite of their grilled cheese sandwich then carefully wiped all the crumbs off their hands. “I get to choose the next date spot,”

“Oh. Do you have something in mind?”

“I’ll text you.” Oakley looked round the diner before returning their gaze to Duck. “Good choice for this time. I like it here,” The small smile on their lips would normally brighten Duck’s day, but the encounter with Roy had left him in a bit of a funk. Oakley held out their hand, waiting for Duck to join.

Duck held out his hand too. He gave Oakley a down low high five then held out his hand for the same. On the second one their fingers drifted apart from each other then their firsts met in a fist bump. Their customary goodbye cheered Duck up a bit. He looked up at his paramour fondly. “Thanks, Oakley,”

“See you Friday,” With that Oakley got up from their seat and headed out.

Duck sat a minute longer, thinking back on what had just happened. Oakley hadn’t really reacted to any of that stuff with Roy or to Duck’s story from the past. Maybe they didn’t care about any of it? At least it hadn’t made them uncomfy. Rising up from the booth, Duck left a tip on the table as thanks for the free meal Clem had given them and headed out as well.

---

A week later, Duck drove out to the location Oakley had texted him. They hadn’t provided any details, only an address. It certainly wasn’t anywhere Duck had been before. The fact that he was driving outside of the city made him wonder if Oakley had some sort of picnic or hike planned. He never knew what to expect with Oakley; that was one of the things that made them so fun to be around.

As Duck neared the end of the directions on his maps program, his eyes widened as he saw what he was approaching. That was a plane on the tarmac! This was an air strip! Were they going flying today? It was a beautiful day for it, bright and clear, tons of puffy clouds. Duck quickly found a parking spot and hurried toward the main building, nearly bursting with excitement.

Once he was close enough to the building, Duck noticed a sign above the entrance: Wellington Skydiving Adventures. Skydiving! Duck had never skydived before. What an awesome date idea! Duck strode through the doors and toward the front desk where a friendly looking woman with goggles atop her head stood reading a flight schedule out of a blue binder. Her eyes brightened when she noticed Duck. “Well, hi there! My name’s Edith. Welcome to Wellington Skydiving Adventures! Do you have a reservation?”

“Uhhh maybe,” Duck scratched the back of his head with an awkward smile. “My name’s Duck Callaway and-”

“Oh, Duck!” Edith’s eyes brightened in recognition. “You’re Oakley’s boyfriend!”

“Yeah! Are they already here?”

“I should hope so! Otherwise they’re late for their shift,” Edith chuckled. She turned round and called toward the back room. “Oakley, Duck’s here!”

At that news Oakley emerged from the back room dressed head to toe in what looked to be a bright blue and orange skydiving jumpsuit. They walked over to Duck with a small smile and gave his hand a squeeze. “Surprise,”

“This is an awesome date idea! I didn’t know we even had skydiving around here!” Duck looked round the facility excitedly, taking in all the people and equipment. “So are we gonna join a group for training or is it gonna be more of a one on one thing?”

“One on one,”

“Oh, did you meet our instructor already?”

“It’s me,”

Duck looked over at Oakley in confusion. “Wait… you know how to skydive already?”

Oakley nodded. “It’s my job,”

“Oakley’s one of our best instructors,” Edith said proudly, tucking away the binder she’d been looking through. “They’re always patient with their clients and great on the jumps. I bet you two will have a lot of fun!”

Duck looked at his paramour in disbelief. Of all the jobs he’d pictured for Oakley, skydiving instructor had never even made the list. This was so badass. A grin broke out on his face as he swung their joined hands back and forth in excitement. “This is so awesome! I can’t believe I’m dating a professional skydiver! Does that mean we get to skydive just the two of us, holding hands and spinning in circles and doing flips while we freefall?”

“Maybe next time. You’re gonna be strapped to my chest this time. This way,” Oakley motioned and walked toward the training equipment, not noticing that their boyfriend had gotten a bit flushed at that prospect.

Duck followed Oakley into the training room. There were various stations reflecting different levels of difficulty and training. Oakley took Duck over to the workout mats first. The first training steps consisted of learning the proper posture and positions for jumps. Since they were going to do a tandem jump Duck didn’t need to know as much about how to control his movements as he would on a solo jump, but he still asked plenty of questions even though for this jump they were solely theoretical. He already knew he wanted to master skydiving or at least be good enough to jump with Oakley as an equal, not just as a student.

Oakley was patient and calm throughout the entire process, answering all of Duck’s questions simply and succinctly. Their hands were steady as they guided Duck in maintaining his core strength and changing his shoulder and arm positioning. It was great to see them so comfortable. Usually unless it was just the two of them Oakley was fairly standoffish, preferring to keep within their own world. But as Duck continued his training with them, he realized this was Oakley’s world. This was where they excelled.

Once they were done on the mat, Oakley and Duck headed over to the indoor skydiving tunnel. According to Oakley this was an alternate attraction for people who didn’t want to go as far as jumping out of a plane to skydive just yet but still wanted that thrill. The tunnel was reserved for training purposes on Tuesday and Thursday mornings though, so for now they had it to themselves. Oakley led Duck through a short series of hand signals since speaking wouldn’t be possible within the tunnel then helped him get suited up with a helmet, goggles, gloves and a bright green and yellow jumpsuit that matched Oakley’s in design.

Indoor skydiving was a ton of fun all in itself. Edith stepped into the wind tunnel with them to help Duck get started, lifting him up so he was horizontal to the floor and wasn’t simply knocked over by the wind. It certainly wasn’t as simple as stepping in and flying skyward. Duck started on his stomach upon the tunnel floor, trying his best to follow Oakley’s hand signals to move his body in such a way that he could lift off the ground. It took many, many attempts. An hour passed before Duck even felt himself fully levitate off the ground. But the glee he felt in that moment and the full-fledged smile on Oakley’s face made all the struggles worth it.

Edith placed a sticker upon Duck’s chest after helping him out of the wind tunnel, a fluffy cloud with pilot wings upon it. “Well done, Duck. You’re one step closer to becoming an officially licensed skydiver yourself should that be something you’d like to pursue,”

“Oh, definitely! This has been so much fun!” Duck beamed as he reverently traced the sticker.

Edith smiled proudly. “Wonderful. We can talk future lessons later, but for now I think it’s time for you to make your first jump. The plane is ready to go when you are, just waiting for its last few passengers,” With that she headed off to her other duties, leaving Duck and Oakley to their own devices.

Duck felt a soft pressure upon his hand and looked down to see that Oakley was holding it. His paramour looked up at him expectantly. “Ready?”

“Absolutely!”

---

It was a small plane that took them up in the air, a Cessna 182. As Oakley had explained, they would ascend until they were at 10,000 feet then make the jump. The freefall portion of the jump would last about a minute before Oakley pulled the chute and they’d float down from there for 4-5 minutes before reaching the landing zone. There would be a bus waiting for them there to take them back to the main building.

Duck’s heart pounded as he sat on the plane, strapped in front with Oakley behind him. It was rather loud within the plane, the sounds of wind rushing against the sides of the plane a constant background noise. Pilot Pete was calm at the helm, checking in with his passengers from time to see that everyone was doing well. The plane only held a handful of people: two other skydiving instructors and their clients waited in relative silence to reach the drop zone.

Duck wished he could look back at Oakley and talk with them. Instead, he settled for the calming warmth of their hand in his. This whole time Duck had been riding off of the high of excitement at the thought of the jump. Now that they were actually approaching it though, he could feel his heart doing belly flops within his stomach. He was about to jump out of a moving plane. His mother would have a heart attack if she knew. Duck tried to calm himself by focusing on the sound of the plane and its engines. Who knew, maybe someday whenever he got his pilot’s license it could be him flying the plane while Oakley led the jumps. They could be at work together, take breaks and lunch together, and he could fly every day. The charm of that daydream made the time drift away till suddenly Duck heard the announcement.

“We’re approaching the drop zone,” Pete announced over the mic. One of the other instructors got up and opened the airplane’s door. The rushing sound of the wind filled all their ears as the passengers’ hair tousled back and forth wildly. Duck and Oakley would be the third ones to jump. Duck bit his lip as he watched the first instructor position themselves by the doorway, their client strapped to their front. This was real. They were going to jump.

A gasp inadvertently left Duck as he saw the first pair drop. Moments later the second pair was standing by the open door. This was all happening so fast. Oakley’s steps nudged him forward, positioning them as the next and last in line. Before Duck could mentally prepare himself, the second pair had jumped. It was their turn. A few steps forward and he stood at the front of the open plane door, gazing down at the patchwork of green so far below them.

“Ready?” Oakley shouted in his ear, giving Duck’s hand a final tight squeeze.

He couldn’t back out. He didn’t want to. He wanted to be brave for Oakley, no matter how scary this was. And they’d be together the whole way down. He wanted to do this, for himself too. “Y-yeah!”

“Remember to scream!” With those final words, Oakley jumped out of the airplane.

They were falling, plummeting faster than Duck had ever gone before. Air rushed past Duck’s ears as the canopy of green so far beneath them stretched as far as the eye could see. Duck let out a loud, prolonged yell, forcing the lump out of his throat and grounding him back into reality. He could breathe, just like Oakley had said. The yelling worked to remind him. He wasn’t even short of breath and he didn’t have that dropping feeling in his gut like rollercoasters and water park slides gave him. Instead everything around him was quiet and peaceful but also beautifully exhilarating: a moment of pure, unbridled joy. It was almost like he was floating. No, more than that… All of a sudden, the parachute was pulled. They shot upwards into the sky for a moment and with the rush of the wind gone, Duck heard Oakley’s words as they leaned towards his ear.

“You can fly!”

Duck felt his heart swell at those words. He’d been flying. Euphoric excitement coursed through his veins, an amalgamation of joy and love. The words Oakley had said reverberated in his mind. With three words they had said so much. That last date when Roy had embarrassed him and Duck had let his past spill out to Oakley he’d wondered if it had been too much to share then wondered when they gave no response if Oakley had even cared. But they’d heard it all: the pain of that nickname, the long-forgotten dream. This had been their answer. They’d helped Duck fly.

“Wanna try?” Oakley offered Duck the handles of the parachute.

Duck quickly took them, smiling to himself as Oakley’s hands came to rest on top of his own. “I can see why you like it up here!” he called back as they drifted down peacefully, gently guided this way and that by the pull of the handles.

“Everything makes sense in the sky!” Oakley’s words were shouted, but their quiet tone was the same as always.

“That’s why you brought me up here, right? So, the words Roy said wouldn’t matter anymore!”

“I did it because you belong up here, with me!”

Duck wished he could hug Oakley right now. Instead, he settled for squeezing their hands, knowing that hug would be coming soon enough once they reached the ground.

It was silent between them as they gently floated down, their focus on the beauty round them as the patchwork of greens slowly grew larger beneath them, eventually settling into one uniform deep green tone as the landing zone came into sight. Oakley took control of the handles once more, guiding the parachute to turn and angle into the wind to help slow their descent. The brake lines were pulled and their speed slowed more and more as they neared the field until all that remained as they touched down was to slide along the grass to an easy stop.

“Wow, I-” Duck was about to say more, but a quick kiss from Oakley upon his cheek froze him in his tracks. He was left sitting in stupefied joy as his paramour undid the straps connecting them and began the process of removing themselves from the parachute. He turned slightly to watch them work. Dating a skydiving instructor really was the coolest thing ever.

Once they were done, Oakley took Duck’s hands and helped him up. “The bus is over there,” They nodded in the direction of it, moving to head out when Duck squeezed their hands lightly, causing them to look up at him.

Duck was grinning from ear to ear. “This was the best date ever! There’s no way I can beat this one!” He leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his love’s cheek. “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” The smile was clear on Oakley’s face even as their eyes were locked on the ground. “You’ll come again!”

“Oh, definitely! Like I said, I’m gonna become a skydiving master! Just you wait, soon we’ll be able to do all the badass skydiving tricks together!” Turning toward the bus, Duck continued to gush about all that he wanted to learn to do in skydiving while Oakley happily followed along, listening quietly. It had certainly been a date to remember, one that felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

[waywardnerd67]

Let Me Go

Summary: Dean has a huge revelation that may have come too late. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Angst/Attempted Suicide/Suicide Note/Mention of Self-Harm/Depression/Fluff Word Count: 2405 Prompt: “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” A/N #1: This is for @amanda-teaches​ 2K Writer + Reader Challenge A/N #2: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

The vamp case went without a hitch. Dean was washing off his machete before placing it back at his side. Sam was placing the last body on the pyre, the heat warming his skin. Even if it was a pyre full of dead vamps the flames were mesmerizing to Dean.

“I wish (Y/N) was here?” he whispered.

Sam stepped next to him, “Have you noticed she’s been isolating herself from hunting?”

Dean nodded staring at the flames whipping higher into the air. The way the swayed shades of red and orange brighten the dark night. It reminded him of (Y/N). Her vibrant personality, her warmth towards those who were hurting and the fire that burned when she would hunt down evil.

“Dean?” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder bringing him out of his daze.

“Yeah Sammy, I just think after everything she’s lost this past year it’s understandable for her to distance herself. Maybe we all could use a break.” Dean began to walk towards Baby.

They had twelve hours before they were back at the Bunker. Twelve hours for Dean to shallow the ever growing feelings back down in the dark depths of his soul. He did not know exactly when these feelings started but one day he saw her in a whole different light. Her hair seemed to always flow behind her, her eyes shined bright like gems and her laugh was like music to his ears. He found himself always wanting to be next to her or listening to her talk about lore.

Exhaustion was hitting Dean hard as he pulled into the Bunker’s garage. He shook Sam awake before getting his bag from the trunk. When they walked into the hallway Sam went towards his room as Dean walked down to his. He paused for a moment before opening his door as his chest ached slightly. The familiar tug to walk down to (Y/N)’s room had him taking a step away from his door. His eyelids fell heavily changing his mind about checking in with (Y/N).

“I can talk with her in the morning. Even make her favorite pancakes.” he whispered before falling onto his bed drifting off into wonderful dreams where there were no monsters and he could be with the woman he loved.

There was a loud crash from outside his room that had Dean jumping out of bed. Rushing out his door he found plates broken just down the hall.

“DEAN! Help me!” Sam cried out kneeling down at the end of the hallway.

He rushed to Sam’s side when all the air in his lungs evaporated. Lying on the ground was (Y/N) in a pair of sweatpants and one of Dean’s flannels. One of the sleeves was bunched at her elbow revealing line after line of scars healing from recently being etched in her skin.

“Sam, is she…” his heart was pounding in his ears awaiting an answer, “Sam!”

“She has a pulse but it’s faint. We need to get her to a hospital now,” Sam gathered her up in his arms, “Check her room to see if there is a hex bag or anything to tell us what happened to her.”

Dean stood there for a moment watching Sam carry her towards the garage. He rushed towards her bedroom immediately looking in the most likely places a hex bag would be hidden. He noticed her sleep meds were out on her nightstand the bottle opened. His stomach sank as he picked up the bottle.

“No, no, no, no.” He mumbled looking into the empty bottle that was refilled two weeks ago.

The next thing he saw was a letter next to the bottle with his name on it. Picking it up, his hand began to shake seeing her handwriting and vile rose into his throat at the realization of what he was holding. Grabbing the bottle, he stuffed both of them into his pocket running out of her room towards the garage.

As soon as he was on the road he pulled out his phone, “Sammy, she took all of her sleeping meds. S-She tried to…”

“I know Dean. The doctors have taken her back now. How far out are you?” Sam cleared his throat then sniffled, breaking Dean’s heart.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He pressed his foot down further on the gas pedal.

When Dean arrived at Jewell County Hospital, he found Sam sitting in the emergency waiting room with his head in his hands. He lifted his head revealing bloodshot eyes and tears running down his cheeks. Dean’s heart stopped as Sam walked over to him.

“She’s unconscious but they have her stabilized. They’re not sure what kind of damage has been done since we don’t know when she took…” Sam paused running his hand over the back of his neck.

“W-When can we see her?” Dean swallowed the large lump in his throat.

Sam waved his hand to follow him, “We can see her now.”

The brothers were outside her room when Sam paused, “I… I can’t go in there. It’s too much.”

He patted his brother’s shoulder before stepping inside the room. Dean grabbed a hold of the door handle to steady his weakened knees. (Y/N) was lying there with tubes and wires coming from all around her. Slowly, he made his way over to the chair next to her bed sitting before he fell to the ground. Her normal glowing porcelain skin was now the same color as the hospital bed sheets. (Y/N)’s full lips were pale and cracking. The only sound giving him hope was the strong beat of her heart on the monitor let him know she was fighting.

“(Y/N/N), why? Why would you try and take your own life?” he whispered feeling a jab from his pocket.

He pulled out the letter, his hands trembling once again before he opened it.

Dean,

I love you. You’re an amazing, strong, selfless man who would sacrifice himself without thought to save those in need. You saved me. You saved my life from the monsters of this world. I want you to know that what I’ve done has nothing to do with you or Sam. This was my decision. I’m not strong enough to fight off the demons within me. They’re overwhelming me and I could not live with myself if something happened to you or Sam because I was not strong enough.

You’re going to be angry. You’re going to be sad. You’re going to blame yourself and drown in whiskey. Please, for me, don’t do that. You couldn’t have done anything to save me this time. Don’t hold onto my memory. You are the only person on this earth that could keep me tethered to it. I love you so much. I know you will move on from this and find someone who is strong enough to be by your side.

Promise me, Dean… promise me that you will let me go. I can’t fight it anymore. You have to let me go.

Love, (Y/N)

Tears dropped onto the paper making the ink bleed. Clutching the letter to his chest he grabbed her hand resting beside her pressing it to his forehead. A painful sob escaped his lips as a wave of fresh tears flowed down his cheeks.

“(Y/N), I didn’t know. I-I didn’t know how much pain you were holding in. I should have seen it. I should have been there. (Y/N), I need you with me. Sammy needs you. We don’t want a life without you. I can’t… you need to wake up because I can’t do this without you. I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I’m in love with you and I need you by my side.”

His eyes snapped up when he felt her squeeze his hand. A soft groan escaped her lips as her eyes slowly opened. She tried to speak but only a hoarse breath came out.

“Hold on (Y/N), I’ll get a nurse.” He kissed her knuckles before rushing out into the hallway.

Six Weeks Later

Dean was leaning against Baby waiting for (Y/N) to come out the familiar beige door. The last six weeks had been difficult for them all. Sam was working cases with Jodi and Donna while Dean stayed behind at the Bunker. (Y/N) was admitted to the Behavioral Health Unit for seven days of intense therapy before being released into an out-patient program.

Everyday, Dean visited her in the hospital listening to her talk about her sessions and taking home the drawings she had. While at the Bunker, he cleaned up her room making sure it was ready for her return. Every drawing or poem she gave him was placed in a notebook for whenever she was ready to see them. During her first day home, they walked throughout the Bunker for every hiding place she had with a sharp object.

I want to make sure I’m not tempted to do anything stupid. She had said as they placed a lock on one of the cabinets in the kitchen.

Each day was easier than the next. Dean gave her space even though his body urged him to be next to her at all times. He knew she did not need a babysitter but each morning he woke up in a cold sweat rushing out to see she was still there. Every morning he found her safely in her bed sleeping peacefully. They would eat breakfast together and work on finding information for Sam. Thursday was deemed movie night and they would curl up on his bed to watch whatever movie she picked. They found a new normal for them.

Never once did he bring up her letter saying she loved him and she never said if she heard him in the hospital finally saying the words his heart always felt. When the time was right then the conversation would happen. No matter what he was thankful for her being alive and well.

He looked up when he heard the door opening to the behavioral health center signaling (Y/N)’s last group had ended. Dean’s lips curled into a wide grin as she hugged the few friends she had made before running over to him. She jumped into his opened arms hugging him tightly while he spun her around.

“How was it, pretty girl?” he asked opening the passenger door for her.

(Y/N)’s smile never failed to brighten his day, “It was great and a little sad.”

He quickly got in Baby bringing her to life, “Well you know it’s not goodbye, just see ya later. It’s important for you to have friends outside of hunters.”

She nodded, “Yeah, I know and I will still see Tabby for my weekly sessions. Just a new step to go up but I have a great support system.”

“Yes you do. Now, we go to celebrate with burgers and shakes.” Dean pulled out from the parking lot heading towards their favorite diner in town.

Once they put in their order, he felt the table shaking from (Y/N) bouncing her leg beneath it. Dean reached over placing his hand on top of hers, “Are you okay?”

(Y/N) chuckled, “Yeah. Sorry, there’s just something I want to talk to you about and I’m kind of nervous.”

He smiled softly at her masking the fear tightening around his chest, “Don’t be nervous. I’m here for you no matter what.”

She took a deep breath squeezing his hand, “One of the things I have been working on with Tabby is learning how to express my emotions. I have been burying some emotions for so long that I didn’t know how to tell anyone especially to the person I needed too.”

Dean’s felt his heart beating against his chest as each word flowed from her lips. Keep breathing. Keep calm. Be strong for her. Be here for her.

“See I have feelings for someone and I didn’t feel it was right to tell him until after my program was done.” (Y/N)’s cheeks were turning a beautiful shade of rose and she was biting her lower lip.

He took a deep breath, “S-So you told him your feelings today?”

“Not yet…” Her bright eyes connected with his, “Dean?”

“Yeah?” he squeezed her hand showing he was there for her even though the pain in his chest was agonizing.

“You know I love you.” There was a brief moment of silence between them.

“Yeah, I know.” Smiling for her as his mind screamed from his heart breaking.

(Y/N) shook her head, “No Dean, you read my letter and you know I love you. I understand that you don’t return the feelings since you’ve never brought it up and that’s okay. I want you to know it’s okay that you don’t love me back in that way. I’ve worked through it while in group and I don’t want you to think you have to be on eggshells around me.”

His eyes widened before his body was sliding out of his booth and sitting next to her. Both hands came around her face as his lips pressed against hers. (Y/N) sat still for a moment before she started to kiss him back. Her fingers clenching his jacket pulling him as close to her as possible.

Someone cleared their throat catching their attention as their waitress brought their meals. Dean felt his own cheeks turning the same color as (Y/N)’s as the waitress laughed softly walking away.

“Dean…” He placed a finger on her lips.

“I love you too, (Y/N). I’ve been in love with you for awhile now. I’ve never acted on it because…” now she placed her finger on his lips.

“It doesn’t matter. There is nothing we can do about the past. All we have power over is this moment right now. I say we enjoy our first pancake date and then go back to the Bunker to marathon All Saint’s Day.”

He leaned over kissing her again, “That sounds perfect to me.”

As they were walking towards Baby, hand in hand, he twirled her around wrapping his arms around her waist, “By the way, I’m never going to let you go.”

“I’m thankful for that.” she whispered as he pressed his lips to her temple.

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[caffeinetheory]

Congrats on 200!! Fake dating au Daminette please?

Thank you so much :>

I hope this came out well, I wasn’t sure where to go with this... without further Adieu 

///

Why damian was picked to go to Paris to asses the situation he wouldn’t know, and no Grayson he doesn’t need more human interaction he’s perfectly happy with what he has. ‘This Marientte girl better be worth his time’ was all he could think as he entered the bakery he was told he could find his contact. Why a simple civilian would baffle him but he didn’t make those kinds of choices.

 He was greeted by a short woman with grey eyes, not his contact, and a warm smile. “How may I help you today monsieur?” thank god Damian had brushed up on his French before walking into the bakery, “Earl Grey and a chocolate croissant?” he asked, the crash in the back taking most of his attention. “Of course monsieur,” he just placed some money on the counter and sat down at a small table to wait for his order. ‘This was the right place right?’ he checked the address Dick had sent him, it was… now where was she?

 A cup of tea was placed in front of him, bringing him out of his thoughts, “I believe this is yours,” the girl around his age said in near perfect English, though accented it was clear. She handed him a small slip of paper with the code word he was told to look out for and winked as she went back to the back to help in the back. It also had a number Damain assumed was hers and a place to meet later. ‘At least she knows subtly,’ he finished his food and left to get ready and to tell Dick he had made contact.

 Damian was early, but there he stood at the base of the Eiffel Tower, she should be there soon. And as luck would have it there she was walking up in a different outfit. Light blue overalls with a baby pink crop top underneath and simple vans, casual attire that wouldn't look out of place, so she was smart. His black jeans, a t-shirt and high tops didn't feel under dressed anymore. 

 “So I assume you’re the ‘little bird’ Nightwing was so happy to talk about,” there was amusement in her tone as she spoke in English. ‘Didn’t she know I know French perfectly fine’ “Perhaps, are you the one I’m supposed to be spending my time with?” “Oh god don’t tell me he was serious about fake dating, I swear to god…” she was starting to ramble ‘So that was Dick’s idea who was he kidding of course it was, human interaction my ass’ “I’ll be in your class by next week,” Damian cut her off on whatever she was rambling about, “We should get our story straight.” “True true,” she lead him to a small secluded area off of the Seine so they could talk more freely. 

 The story they came up with was they met at a gala and had hit it off despite the odds. Believable because Mari was the kind of person to make friends with almost anyone, she also told him to use English around her if he wanted a minimal chance for people to follow what they were saying. He came to do the exchange program to broaden his horizons and the fact his new girlfriend was there was a plus, believable knowing his family. She also warned him about her class and a liar, ‘lovely’ was all he could think, more social climbers. 

 The weekend before Damian joined the class he couldn't figure out how this petite girl one had contacted the League and two why she was trusted by the heroes of this city, she looked like hard a breeze would hurt her. Okay that might be an exaggeration but still! She didn’t look like she could hold her own against anything, so why her? That was something he’d get his answer in due time, walking in on something he wasn’t meant to know.

 Damian insisted on taking her to school on Monday, as a way to show that she was his and so he didn’t need to ask where the class was. Not that he would admit the second part. Damian took her hand as they left the bakery, and they made idle small talk on the short walk to the school. When a black limo pulled up Mari seemed to perk up, something to keep of note. A blonde boy with light green eyes walked out and instantly lit up upon seeing Mari. she was quick to let go of Damian and whisper something into the blonde’s ear and hug him nodding her head slightly back to Damian’s direction, interesting.

 Damain had spent the rest of the day close to Mari but otherwise not paying attention, he already knew everything that they were teaching, this was a waste of his time. Sitting in the back with his ‘girlfriend’ at least let him avoid the looks of the class and watch their behavior. Only three people of note in the whole class. Mari by his side (she also seemed to pay little attention but had well done notes that seemed ahead of the class), the blonde boy for earlier who he learned rather quickly was Adrien Agreste (seemed to also be way too ahead for this class and to share something secret with Mari, he’d need to look into that later) and lastly the Rossi girl. She was not the good interesting though, lies were constantly coming from her mouth to the point he found it hard to believe anyone could take what she was saying seriously. Damain assumed Mari was over exaggeration when she warned him.

 That was routine for about a month: go to class with Mari, be bored out of his mind, hide from the Akumas of the week, then go to her place to get more info. The occasional “date” to a coffee shop or walk in the park. Nothing out there but so it was clear they were dating, constantly holding hands, conversations in English and small gifts. Most of the class had left him alone after it was clear he was with Mari, “If he’s willing to date a jealous girl like Mari he wasn’t worth their time” was the general consensus of the class, he’d gladly take it. 

 It wasn’t until he had wandered from the library to what he assumed was an empty training room on the school grounds. The sounds of rapid fire French and fighting made him curious, it wasn’t an Akuma, there hadn’t been an alert so what could it be? 

 To say being Agreste and his fake girlfriend locked in an instance spar, one that seemed evenly matched. He could expect Agreste to be able to fight, the boy was in fencing after all, but not to this level and Mari… well that was unexpected. 

 To say he didn’t find their banter and technique interesting would be a gross understatement. He was starting to understand why Ladybug trusted Mari, that was until he heard “M’lady” and “Kitty” leave their lips. Things were clicking into place, it all made sense now. Damian felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier, of course! 

 To say he was seeing both the heroes in a new respect for all they had to deal with in their regular lives and that not affecting their Hero lives would be putting it lightly. For Mari to be capable and cunning but also be able to hide her strength like it was second nature was something Damian wouldn’t admit but he  found really attractive. 

 He found himself actually making an effort to be closer and nicer to her, and slightly to Adrien. He did this in his own Damian way, starting off small by calling them both by  their first names and then slight nicknames, for example Marienette was now Mari. he learned more about their dynamic both in the mask and out, they were like siblings attached at the hip. Ready to throw down at the drop of a hat to help their counterpart.

 To say Damian wasn’t prepared when Adrien invited him to spar with him and Mari was more true then Damian was willing to admit, they knew he knew didn’t they? “Wouldn’t want to leave out her boyfriend would we?” Adrien said with a wink leading him to the same room he had first spied on their spars. 

Her swing to his head was barely dodged and he ducked out of the way just in time, “So when were you planning to tell me you knew?” Adrien stood off to the side making sure no one walked in like he had. It was just the two of them on the mat talking in English and sparing. “Well to be fair I didn’t know you knew,” his smirk didn’t last long as he had to do a backflip to dodge another kick coming his way.

 They went back and forth for about 20 minutes before they were both tired out, Adrien only chiming in to encourage his “Lady”. So here they were both breathing heavily laid on their backs on the mat. 

 “You know you could be cute if you were more open, Sparing shouldn’t be how I get you to open up,” Mari was playful as she turned to look at the ten boy beside her. 

 “Oh just kiss already,” Adrien shouted from the side lines, this was something he had been waiting for since he saw the two togther. If Mari can get the Ice Princess Kagami to open up and be more herself Damian was a goner. Almost everyone eventually fell for the personification of sunshine that was Mari at some point, at least this one might actually have a chance. 

 “How ‘bout a real date first?” the gentle squeeze on his hand and content sound from the girl next to him brought a genuine smile to his face… maybe Grayson did have a point. 

///

Please send more Asks in !!

[psychopersonified]

KIdnapped!Q - Part 2

Continued from Part 1 here.

---------

“The boyfriend don’t feed you??” she shakes her head and sends a glare at Bond’s direction indicating what she thinks about his efforts.

Q nearly spit takes his tea. He forces it down, choking in the process.

Bond clears his throat. “I think… you’ll find the boyfriend tries his best,” he grinds out, still looking straight ahead, his tone betraying more than a little indignation.

-----------

Notes: The event told roughly from Bond's POV especially the first half. Plus the aftermath. This is me trying to get into Bond's head. Also, let's all get on Bond's case shall we? 

Towards the end, there is exposition of technical plot. I've tried to interject it with humour and also to use this opportunity for character development.

Some parts borrowed heavily from Spectre (movie) but does not take place in that universe.

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

Level 5 Lobbby, SIS (MI6) HQ

Kneeling beside Q in the Level 5 lobby of MI6 HQ, Bond vacillates between being livid at himself and overwrought with worry for Q. The young man is crumpled unconscious on the marble floor. He had seen it coming. Q was already too pale in the car, lips almost colourless. He had to call Q’s name twice before he responded to exit the vehicle.

He should have dealt with it in the parking garage, instead of turning Q into a spectacle here in the lobby. He recognised the symptoms of hyperventilation when he saw it. Bond was hoping to get Q to medical before helping him recover.

He checks Q’s pulse, rapid but weak. He’s breath is still shallow. If medical doesn’t get there in the next minute, he’s going to pick Q up and carry him there. A crowd is forming around them. Level 5 lobby is the main exchange lobby inside HQ - where the ‘public’ meets the ‘secret’. The floors above level 5 house the Executive and Operational branches. Level 5 and below that are the public facing areas - accounts, administrative, HR, logistics, cafeteria, etc. To get to the upper levels, they have to change to the restricted lift banks further to the rear of the building.

And now, it’s right in the middle of the workday morning. Curious staff from both upstairs and downstairs are standing around staring. Bond wants badly to tell them to -piss off-, but it would just make rumours spread faster.

Dr. Chen arrives just then with two of her aides, a crash cart and a gurney. Together they put Q onto the gurney, checking his vitals on the way to Medical.

“BP  87/60. Pulse 110. Oxygen saturation 92%. Glucose levels 61mg/dL,“ One of the medical aides report.

“He’s borderline hypoxic and in hypoglycaemic shock. Prepare glucagon shot, and glucose IV drip.” Dr Chen orders as they fit Q with an oxygen mask.

Knowing Q, he likely hadn’t taken breakfast yet that morning either. He was still asleep when Bond left for HQ. Add that to the fact that Q barely had dinner the night before; appetite suppressed by the cold he was having - he was running very low on reserves.

—

The treatment room doors close in his face. One of the senior nurses had brandished a folded stethoscope in his face like a weapon and told him to stay. That was Maria, a straight talking matronly nurse of Pilipino descent, the only nurse in medical that isn’t afraid of his 00-status despite being nearly a foot shorter than him. So he’s now left pacing the corridor outside.

—

Earlier that day

When his phone buzzed that morning with a security alert ::Lobby Alert:: , 007 was in a meeting in the operations centre with M, Tanner and 004 running through plans for the next mission in Libya. A local warlord was buying guns presumably to fight ISIS insurgents but intel has it that he’s gone from fighting them to suppling them - profits were better.

007 had excused himself to a corner to check the app that would give him access to the security cameras in Q’s building. The sight of the three men at the door with the battering ram had him on his feet in an instant - heart in his throat. The distress signal came through seconds later.

He was out of the conference room door in seconds and into the main operations area where the wall of monitors stood. R was there and had apparently received the same alert - the warning flashing red and urgent across one of the monitors.

“007, Sir!” R called out to him from across the room, “Q’s distress signal was just activated.” R looked to Bond like he might have an explanation.

M and the others in the conference room had followed him out when they noticed him leave abruptly.

“I just received the same alert. Security cameras show three men attempting to gain access.” Bond held up his phone to indicate how he knew.

Panic flickered across R’s face for a moment; but her training kicked in and she started calling out orders to the minions around her, “Executive Protocol Q! Attempted forced entry at Quartermaster’s residence in progress. I want CCTV feeds around his residence. Get the police on the line, how fast can they get a patrol unit there-...”

What happened next was a flurry of activity. Bond’s only deference to protocol was to turn to M and nod his leave before sprinting out. Tanner caught up with him at the lifts, a tablet in hand. He swiped his Chief of Staff card and tapped a short code that would give him (or more accurately M) preferential lift access in emergencies.

“M says to take his car. R can patch through the feeds and update us on the way.” Bond would normally object to having someone tag along with him, but in this instance a government vehicle with its blues-and-twos flashing would get them through traffic quicker.

By the time they got to the parking garage, they were joined by another team of agents. Tanner had the keys to M’s Jaguar and took position as driver, he signalled to one of the other agents jump into the front passenger seat - leaving 007 to stew in the back. The remaining agents followed in a separate vehicle.

-

“Tanner... a little more speed would be appreciated.”

“007, why don’t you pay attention to the tablet and help R out?” Tanner suggested politely.

-

007 flung the door open before the car even made a full stop. He engaged the second assailant just as Q made it across the Jag’s bonnet to the other side. Bond would later dispute the police report that indicated excessive force was used to subdue the assailant. A broken nose, partially crushed windpipe and dislocated knee was hardly excessive in his line of work.

—---

Present

Dr Chen emerges from the treatment room 15 minutes later.

“He’s fine. He’s fine.” Chen holds up her hands to placate Bond before he can do his double-0 looming. “Oxygen levels are back to normal and blood glucose readings are back up. He just needs rest and some food in him.”

Q comes fully around in half an hour. The glucose and oxygen supplement doing wonders. He’s sitting up on the recovery bed having tea and biscuits that Bond managed to retrieve from Q’s stash in Q-Branch.

Mallory and Eve are present as well, intercepting Q before Bond has had a chance to see him privately. Pleasantries done, M leaves the room and gestures for 007 to follow him out, leaving Eve to continue her conversation with Q.

—

Outside Recovery Room A

“007, It’s been a trying day. How are you?” M opens.

Bond makes a non-committal sound, “Sir. I know you didn’t want to see me to discuss my mental health.”

M sighs. Why must everything be so difficult with this one.

“Fine. I want to discuss Q’s protection detail for the next few weeks until we get this threat sorted. You are off the Tripoli mission next week, 004 will be taking lead,” M offers.

Bond would normally protest, but this time he makes no move. Internally he is relieved. This saves him from having to come up with an excuse for why he won’t be going.

“We’re going to have to move Q to a secure location. MI5 has safe houses and resources we can tap into— “ Mallory sees the snarl forming on 007’s lips and quickly adds, ”—but I have a feeling you are going to want to have a say in it.”

Bond backs down and considers a moment. “I still have my place. The floorplan is easy to secure. A few upgrades and it should be adequate.”

“And the rest of the detail?”

“I’ll… need two more officers. Better yet, field agents in line for the 00-program. Consider this their asset protection training.”

M nods in approval. But something is left unsaid. M decides that it is time to get it out of the agent.

“How long has it been going on?” Bond knows M is not talking about the protection detail anymore.

“Just over a year.” He says matter of fact looking at a point past M’s shoulder. Bond isn’t volunteering more information than that. M doesn’t look surprised. If anything, he looks thoughtful.

Both men are clearly uncomfortable with the personal segue of the conversation. A pause and they both look away and clear their throats at the same time.

M ends the discussion on something they are more accustomed to, “Well, I trust you have this area under control. Tomorrow morning, we’ll reconvene to discuss any information R and Forensics can recover.”

Bond nods. “Very well, sir.” The fact the M hasn’t removed him from the case is consent enough.

——

Inside Recovery Room A

“How are you?” Eve rubs his blanket covered shin.

“Aside from it being one of the worst days of my life? Alright all things considered.“

Eve reaches over to give him a tight hug, more for her own sake than Q’s, “You had everyone so worried!… Thank goodness for the pen.”

“Yes well… Bond’s penchant for pilfering Q-branch equipment finally came in handy.”

Eve ruffles his hair and presses a kiss to his cheek, “You did really well today. I’m so proud of you.”

Q shrugs, what can he say? He doesn’t feel particularly proud. More numb if anything now that’s it’s over. Eve seems to sense this and goes for humour instead, ”Did Tanner tell you? He put 007 in the backseat of the Jag on the way to you.”

“I did wonder about that…” He could imagine Bond’s ire at having to relinquish control and wait patiently. Eve and Q share a conspiratorial smile.

“The rumour mill is spinning in overdrive; thought you might to know. It was quite the spectacle this morning in the lobby.”

Q pinches the bridge of his nose; mortified. “Not my finest moment I’ll admit. I’ve single handedly destroyed what little street cred Q-Branch had left.”

“Oh Q... that’s not what people are talking about—,” at his blank look, she unlocks the phone in her hand and pulls up the internal messaging app. She scrolls to a video and selects it before showing it to him.

It was of Q crumpled dramatically on his side just in front of the lift banks. 007 is crouched over him, one of his hands cradling Q’s head. Tanner is standing nearby, phone to his ear. The video captures 007’s other hand coming up to touch the pulse point at Q’s neck. A few moments later the agent looks up, taking in the crowd, his eyes a blazing blue, expression tinged with fear. Dr. Chen arrives soon after, cutting off the view from that angle.

Oh… OH…- In his mind, Q had expected the incident to be far more comical. A tech boffin kissing the floor from panic induced hypoxia has the potential to be the stuff of comic legend; if schadenfreude was your cup of tea. But the video was far from amusing. Poignant would be a more accurate description. Bond will be a handful to deal with later.

At the sobering thought, Q changes the subject, “Did I make the tele?”

Eve grins and nods,”All morning… breaking news and all. It’s being spun as a possible terror attack, as shots were fired and we need to maintain your cover. Mallory negotiated a quid pro quo with MI5. They are getting credit for the quick response in apprehending the suspects in exchange for publicly copping to counter-terrorism failure.”

“There were quite a lot of shots exchanged. Was anyone hurt?” Q recalled the street was rather busy.  

“Aside from the assailants, none seriously. Some civilian injuries, but all stable.” That assuages his guilt somewhat.

“Has anyone been to the flat?”

“Forensics is taking a look now.”

“Derek, the officer in the lobby? Is he—“

“He’s just out of surgery. Critical but stable.” This is why Q loves Eve, she knows everything.

“Don’t suppose anyone knows what happened to the cats?” Q is a little sheepish to be asking about his pets when human lives were threatened this morning.

“The cats are fine. Emily from forensics found them huddled in the laundry room. She’ll bring them back here at the end of her shift,” Eve reassures him, “But at the moment, your lion is loose and prowling the halls.”

Ah right, “Eve… does everyone know?”

Eve smiles at him, “Q... everyone’s known for months. Including Mallory.”

Just then the door opens and Bond reenters. Eve takes her leave. She pats Bond on his bicep on the way out and he acknowledges with a nod. When she’s cleared the doorway, he closes the door and locks it behind her. Finally. Some privacy.

Bond is silent intent when he comes to sit on the recovery bed facing Q. He removes the mug of tea from Q’s hands and sets it safely aside - gently demanding.

He leans in to wrap his arms tightly around Q, crushing Q against his chest. He runs his calloused hands over Q’s back, neck and into his hair - then buries his nose in that unruly mop of hair, breathing in deeply. When he’s a little calmer, a little more composed - he relaxes his hold to nuzzle Q around the temple before going in for a kiss, hands still stroking the sides of Q’s face and neck.

Q’s glasses are askew from all the petting. “Alright… I’m alright…. ,“ He soothes the agent, and has to take hold of Bond’s hands to quiet him. He knows Bond in this unsettled mood - a predator caught off guard, challenged… insecure. Bond would very well take things too far to reassure himself if Q lets him. And this isn’t an appropriate time or place.

“Are you still going to Tripoli on Monday?” Q tries to distract the clingy agent.

“No. M stood me down… I’ve been reassigned as your PPO,” Bond rumbles softly into his hair.

“Aren’t you a little overqualified to play bodyguard?” Q needles him.  

“Hmm… you deserve the best,” he mumbles into the corner of Q’s mouth.

Q snorts at the backhanded compliment Bond’s paid himself.

Bond whispers, “I’ve been told I’m rather good at what I do.”

Bravado. Let him have it- Q thinks, “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re precious,” Bond had not intended that to be out loud, and is a little embarrassed even before Q calls him out on it.

“Gah! You’re incredibly mushy today,” Q pushes him away lightly, mock cringing.

Bond leans back, but his hands have escaped and have wandered around Q’s waist, thumbs caressing the ticklish flesh, “Considering the events of today, I think I’m entitled.” Bond leans back in for a kiss.

Pillow talk. They’re engaging in pillow talk in the middle of the day in Medical. -Surreal- Q thinks.

The door handle rattles. Bond squeezes his eyes shut and exhales in exasperation -Seriously, can everyone just piss off!

Undeterred by the universal sign for a request to privacy, the person the other side raps on the door.

Bond goes to unlock it. Q picks up his tea to hide his mirth.

The door opens to reveal Nurse Maria sporting a -very- disapproving scowl. She’s back to check in on Q’s condition. She keeps her eyes on Bond as she enters, keeping him at bay with her stare alone. Bond moves away to a decent distance and stands at parade rest, eyes straight ahead; the very picture of obedience.

She turns to Q and fusses over his vitals and starts removing the IV drip.

“Rest. No more dangerous stunts. Eat more... Too skinny. Tsk!” she makes a sound of disapproval.

“The boyfriend don’t feed you??” she shakes her head and sends a glare at Bond’s direction indicating what she thinks about his efforts.

Q nearly spit takes his tea. He forces it down, choking in the process.

Bond clears his throat. “I think… you’ll find the boyfriend tries his best,” he grinds out, still looking straight ahead, his tone betraying more than a little indignation.

“Hmph…” Maria huffs unimpressed, as she fluffs Q’s pillow.

Mercilessly she adds, “Maybe the boyfriend is too busy. Always travelling. You should tell him to slow down. Spend more time at home.”

All this she directs at Q but there is no mistaking who the words are actually for.

“I’ll umm… I’ll make sure to let him know.” Q tries to defuse the situation. If it comes down to an actual contest of words between those two, Q’s not sure Bond would win.

——

Quartermaster’s Residence

Late that afternoon, once forensics is done collecting evidence, Bond is back home - well technically Q’s place. He speaks to Emily, Head Forensics Tech onsite for an update.

“Place is untouched, only damage appears to be the door. Nothing appears to be out of place, but you’d be able to tell better than us. It doesn’t look like the assailants bothered to search for anything. Which confirms the suspicion that they were not after anything, but Q himself.”She informs him - which to Bond is the worst case scenario. Q has something they want, and if the failed attempt today does not dissuade them, then they will try again.

“We’ll have some technicians back onsite to secure the door at least temporarily and do a more thorough sweep… Right then, cats are in their carriers in the laundry room. Do you still want us to take them to HQ?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll take it from here. Thank you Emily.” Emily pats him on the shoulder much like Eve did before leaving.

Bond has two other agents with him:

Agent Monica Chalmers, former Squadron leader in the Royal Air Force, calm, tough as nails with surprisingly good hand to hand combat skills for a pilot.

Agent Peter Coyle former Major in the Royal Marines, good all rounder but with a dormant sense of rebelliousness that Bond see lying just beneath the highly disciplined exterior.

Both are experienced field agents and nine months into the Double-0 program and top of their batch. He’d consulted 009 earlier for his recommendation and Bond remembered them from the selection weekend ten months ago when he assisted 009 in the testing process.*

Bond gets them to help pack a few bags for Q as well as collect any projects and papers he was working on - directing them where things are and pointing out the items he wants packed.

When they’re done and about to leave, Bond emerges form the laundry room with his own bag and a cat carrier, “I hope the both of you like cats.”

Chalmers is quick to indicate affirmative. Coyle hesitates a split second too long; 007 smells blood and smiles sharkily. “Well you do now,” and promptly hands over the carrier case to him.

-—-

Notting Hill, Chelsea

Then they swing by MI6 to pick up Q before heading to Bond’s place in Chelsea.

They have a polite dinner, all four of them standing around the kitchen bar, because Bond’s bachelor pad lacks any real furniture. Bond refuses to be embarrassed. The place smells musty from disuse, and the overhead lighting is harsh and unflattering. It’s in a very nice part of town, but the place is frankly depressing. Q’s only been here a handful of times. Barely furnished and incomplete, it represents Bond’s past - he still comes by time to time especially after missions where he’s had to do some morally questionable things. He comes here to shed the proverbial filth so to speak; before returning to his present, his life with Q. Psychological compartmentalisation in physical form.

Q had let the cats out to explore. Jellicles the younger tuxedo cat is curious, zooming about the place and chattering to himself. Q thinks his boldness is due to the place not smelling entirely alien. Bond had to pull the cat off the hanging kitchen lights at one point.

But Spot (after Data’s cat) the older orange moggie is having none of it. The big former street cat is attempting to climb Q’s jeans, wanting to be held and cuddled. Q finally gives up and picks up the cat and hitches it to his side like child - the large moggie is as heavy as one too. With the cat mollified, Q can finish his dinner.

After dinner, Q transfers the cat to Bond’s arms before excusing himself to shower and get ready for the night. Bond is in his usual white shirt open at the collar, gun holster still around his shoulders. The orange cat fidgets in his arms, head-butting him under the jaw. Jellicles who was lounging on the kitchen bar now feels left out and is reared up on his hind legs, front paws on Bond’s other shoulder, meowing incessantly. “Yess, alright…,” he sets down his fork in mild annoyance to pet the cat along his long sinuous spine and get him to sit back down.

Agents Chalmers and Coyle exchange a look. Here is the idolised spy, the revered Double-0 agent, the man himself in his private setting and nothing lives up to expectation. The cognitive dissonance throws them.

Bond ever the observant one catches their open stares, understanding immediately. His voice is low, tired even, heavy with the the years of service and untold horrors he’d witnessed and done, “They lie in the brochures. I hope neither of you are doing it for the lifestyle.” And that concludes Bond’s pearl of wisdom for the day.

When they’re done clearing up, Bond gives them their instructions.

“Familiarise yourselves with the floorplan, entry and exits. Let me know what improvements we need and an escape plan for contingencies.”

“In the evenings when I’m around, you won’t need to stay. Check in with the police guards outside and have them keep watch of the building. But I won’t be here all the time. At some point I -will- leave to go after whoever is behind this.”  

“The both you will need to take turns sleeping on the couch. Or make alternative arrangements for him if the threat becomes untenable. We’ll discuss more tomorrow.“

With that, they’re dismissed.

——

That night, when the lights are out, and they’re both scrubbed clean of the days’ stress  - Bond crawls into bed behind Q. Q can sense it in the cautiousness and light tremors in Bond’s movements, like he’s trying to keep it together.  

Once his guard drops, James is near inconsolable. Wrapped possessively around Q, hands everywhere, legs tangled - his face is buried in the back of Q’s neck. The man is silent, except for the harsh and erratic breathing - and not the good kind either. The back collar of Q’s pyjamas is wet with tears.

Q does his best to soothe, petting and rubbing the muscled arms wrapped around him. He brings the man’s hands up to his face and kisses the cuts and bruises on his knuckles. “James, I’m alright…. I’m right here…” he whispers over and over.

He doesn’t try to stop the emotional breakdown, better to let him have it. Q feels a little guilty, he’s feeling somewhat detached from the days’ traumatic events. Maybe it’s because he got to panic while it was happening and it is now out of his system.  He’s cool and calm now while James suffers the emotional fallout.

Q recalls the video that Eve presented to him earlier in the afternoon. The camera capturing with stunning clarity the raw emotion behind the agent’s blue eyes. If the agent knew about the video, he’d make the person who took it will disappear. Which reminds Q to make a mental note to nuke the video from the messaging platform in the morning.

James is past the tears now and demanding more. The soothing caresses turning to something more serious, more consuming. Q is more than happy to give. They comfort each other until they’re both exhausted enough to fall asleep.

---------

Saturday 10:00  

SIS (MI6) Ops Centre Level 9 - Operations Room C.

R is providing sitrep. Images flash across the wall of screens to the front of the room.

“…—The ambulance was stolen from the Forest Hill Station south of London. Three assailants. Two in custody--” Their mugshots appear on screen:

Assailant 1 sports a bandaid under his chin. “…— is under medical observation for possible head trauma from hitting the cobblestone street—…”

Assailant 2 is much worse off, broken nose, a large hematoma under the right eye, and ugly bruising across the throat. “…— is also under medical observation for a partially crushed windpipe and dislocated knee.”

“Hospital will not release them for questioning until Sunday or Monday at the latest. Human rights and all. Third assailant was cornered by our agents, but opened fire into the crowd. Luckily there were no serious injuries. Agents stood down to avoid risk to civilian population and the assailant escaped on a stolen motorcycle.”

“Facial recognition places them as local members of a south London crime syndicate. Armed robbery, money laundering and the likes - serious crimes but nothing on the scale that would suggest going after a head of department in SIS.”

“Hired muscle. Nothing more. So that if the attempt fails or they get caught, it can’t be traced to whoever ordered it,” M concludes.

“Yes, sir. But they would have to know where to drop the asset off if it were successful though.” Agent Chalmers chimes in.

“Note the unusual timing; in the middle of a workday morning meant that they had to know that Q would be home at the time. That he was relatively unguarded—“ that Bond wasn’t home, was left unsaid. “—which means they were watching. Or told when to initiate the attempt.” Tanner added.

Q is only half paying attention to the discussion. Mark from IT-Branch came in earlier to hand him three new boxes of electronics - bless him. A new phone, laptop and hotspot router (because Bond’s place has no telephone or internet); unboxing them was like taking a hit for an addict in withdrawal. Q is preoccupied with setting them up and re-downloading data from the secure cloud services. He feels nearly like himself again. He had spent most of yesterday without them and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“The place was untouched. The target was Q. What worries me is motive. Why would anyone take such a risk to provoke MI6 by abducting the Quartermaster knowing we would have the motivation and resources to go after them. Not unless the payoff is something that would massively change the way they forward their agenda. It has to be something they need him for. Something they can’t replicate, not even if they had the plans.” 007 concludes.

M who was rocking lightly in his chair whilst listening stops, leans forward and sighs. He looks over at Q, “What have you been working on?”

Mallory couldn’t keep track of all of it. Yes Q-Branch spent millions in R&D but they made the government (and by extension secured SIS funding) at least ten times what they spent. Declassified plans, schematics and programming codes sold at auction to private defence, Infosec and engineering companies for tens of millions.

The Q-Branch minions might be the butt of jokes at times in SIS, but their work not only kept operatives alive but helped keep the lights on in MI6. It is no wonder that MI5 wanted a slice of that pie. Sometimes M wondered why Q hasn’t left to go work in private. He’d asked him that once, and all he got in reply was something to the effect of ‘reigning in egomaniacal tendencies with public oversight and knowing which side you’re on’.

“Take your pick—” Q huffs in mild frustration, then realises who he was speaking to and adds,”—Sir.”

Q’s feeling tetchy this morning. Aside from tech withdrawal, his cold had gotten worse so his nose is completely stuffed. The general fatigue that accompanies a cold is exacerbated by his aching leg muscles from all that running the day before. Then he’d discovered he’d ripped a nail right off the finger bed in his haste to remove the hard drive so it stings when he types. He’s feeling a full on sulk coming. Bond already bore the brunt of his crabbiness this morning attempting to get him ready to come in to HQ.

“What about the project you’ve been working on with Mark? With the Shadow Network?” R said trying to be helpful.

“What about it? And please, I prefer Gemini Network - sounds less villainy.”

“I heard Mark say it could be a game changer, that it will give us the upper hand when it comes to controlling information.”

“Well in theory….” Q is being a little evasive.

Mallory looks over at Eve and tips his chin up at her. Eve knows at once to go and fetch Mark. They’ve learned over the years that when Q says something is ‘in theory’, it means he’s already gone ahead and built a proof a concept it or at the very least it tested the theory.

Mark enters the operations room like he’s been summoned to the headmasters office. “Sir? You asked to see me?”

“Tell us about the Gemini Network.” M dives right in without preamble.

“You mean the Shadow Network?” Mark looks for clarification.

“Why does everyone insist on calling it that?…” Q is slightly miffed.

Mark begins, “Well, the concept started years ago when we first used it to trap Silva in his earlier days. Quantum was trying to undermine your predecessor through Q-Branch, cascade of equipment failures leading to the death of a field agent. Basically we built a replica of Q-Branch systems and let Silva run his virus in it to learn what he was doing.”

“Since then we’ve evolved and developed the concept into a full shadow network that now protects MI6 systems. We created an AI shepherded by our cybersecurity team that patrols our systems; learning the normal functions - what’s secure, what’s not.” Mark pauses to check if everyone is still following.

“The idea is that when an anomaly in the system is detected, the AI isolates the suspicious node and shunts it into its shadow network. The shadow network presents itself as a legitimate fully functioning system and lets whatever suspicious activity continue unchallenged. But all the while it is watching and learning. It then flags the human team who can then decide if it is harmless or a legitimate threat. We can then use what it learns to patch the actual system. Think of it like an evolving immune system for cybersecurity. The more it learns the more robust it gets.”

Q then reasons, “The AI represents thousands of hours of machine training and learning, valuable in it of itself. But not impossible to recreate - though having MI6 as a training ground does make it harder for anyone to catchup to it.”

Bond notices Mark’s excited body language. The man is almost bouncing on his toes, “But… I’m guessing there is more to this…?”

Marks looks to Q and they have a non-verbal exchange. Those two are thick as thieves when it comes to programming, though Mark still refuses to transfer to Q-Branch for the sake of his sanity. Bond has met Mark numerous times, he likes the guy. Mark looks up to Q like an adoring little brother wanting someday to be just as good. Which means he’s an enabler who goes along with Q’s ideas without any sense of self preservation.

“Recently, Mark and I found a new application for it. We managed to package the AI into a worm that can be used to infiltrate a target network. It will still require us to inject it behind a firewall, either through hacking or physically. But once inside, it starts watching and learning - filtering traffic internally between nodes; as well as incoming and outgoing traffic outside of the network. It will sit dormant until activated…”

Eve’s eyes are wide, “Oh boys, what have you created?”

“…When activated, it will deploy the Shadow Network, into which we can shunt specific network traffic. A) The captured node still thinks its in the master system and functions normally. B) The AI then replaces the captured node with a mimic so to the master system, nothing is amiss.”

“The beauty of this is that it does not require us to crack security. When authentication is required, the AI simply returns the node back in to authenticate before shunting it back out. Do you see? We can compel any system to unlock its door by hiding behind the captured node.“ Mark points out looking like he’s about to explode with excitement.

Even Tanner is stunned now. R, who has heard it all before and told them repeatedly how dangerous of an idea this was - has her hands pressed together as if in prayer covering her mouth

“The node itself is tricked into thinking it is still interacting with the master system - which makes it voluntarily reveal information which we can collect or use as we see fit. Alternately we can seed it with misinformation to bring back to the master system.”

“Its the ultimate spy - Agent 1001.” Mark declares gleefully. His attempt at humour falls flat. If he‘d added Ta-Da! at the end of it, Bond was going to cuff him behind the head.

Mark pulls himself together and continues, “In practical terms it means we can change literally any information - while both sides remain unaware because there are now two truths depending on which network you are interacting with. ”

“But that’s just the start—.” Q takes over.

“There’s more?“ Mallory drawls out, feeling a migraine coming.

Q is apologetic, “What’s the most secure form of record keeping at the moment? …Blockchain. A set of records linked cryptographically together, with a distributed ledger that technically guarantees security. You can’t change any data in a block retroactively without changing all the subsequent blocks…. not unless you have consensus of at least 51% of all the nodes in the ledger.“

“Q… As riveting as this exposition is, get to the point.” Bond’s tone is a warning, his consonants sharper. Even he’s catching on to where this is leading and dreading it.

“Yes alright..” Q doesn’t get why everyone seems more upset than impressed.

”The point is, theoretically if we manage to get the worm into a peer-to-peer network and let spread throughout, we can apply the Shadow Network concept to launch a mass ‘eclipse attack’ on the distributed ledger. The nodes in the network must stay in constant contact to compare data for consensus. If the AI shunts off enough of the nodes into its Shadow Network and manage to trick 51% of the nodes into accepting our version of the chain before returning it, we change the ledger. Change the ledger and��“

“—You’ve hacked blockchain.“ Eve finishes for him, disbelieving.

“So are we talking about bitcoin?” Agent Coyle hazards a guess.

“Oh Agent Coyle… cryptocurrency is just the beginning. Just imagine any database that depends on blockchain for its immutability. Voting records? Supply chains? Financial records? Anti-counterfeit measures? The Shadow Network lets you - Change. Your. Digital. Reality.” Q finishes with a flourish; in purely intellectual terms, the concept is truly quite clever.

Tanner looks to Mallory alarmed,“Sir… 35 central banks are now experimenting with issuing digital state currencies on blockchain. At least 10 will be going ahead in this year and another 15 in the next 2 years.“

Silence. You could hear a pin drop.

Bond who has been standing off to the side of the monitors in his characteristic agent pose, legs apart one hand in his pocket; exhales loudly and points out ominously, “So whoever controls the AI, controls the Shadow Network and everything it can do - the Shadow Master. “

All heads in the room turn to Q….

“Yes, that would be one way of putting it. Personally, I prefer the term Shadow Architect,” Q chortles at the absurdity of the comic villain names.

But no one one else is laughing. And they’re all looking at him expectantly. Except Mark, he laughs at all of Q’s jokes.  

-Christ-. Bond is torn between wanting to strangle the oblivious idiot himself and wanting to put the genius in a glass cage for his own safety.

A moment later, Q has a dawning realisation about what he’s managed to get himself into this time.

“It..Its just theoretical!” Denial.

“Technically this belongs to SIS…” Bargaining.

“We just thought it would be a helpful tool for our operatives to turn the odds in their favour!” Anger.

“What in the world possessed me to think…” Depression

“Owwh shit.” Acceptance.

Q stops his pacing in front of the monitor wall and collapses into a chair nearby. Elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

When he’s done cycling through emotions, M raises and eyebrow,“Well, I’m glad we’ve all come to the same conclusion,” M’s sarcasm flies over his head.

——

As a result of the meeting, Q & Mark are sent away to put their project into a secure vault in the servers - until M knows what to do with it. Q feels like they’ve just been sent to ‘time out’ - to think about what they’ve done.

Once he’s done that, he goes to Q-Branch to serve out his sentence.

Q-Branch is the only ‘secret’ arm in SIS that is located between the garage and basement bunkers. It’s more practical that way as larger projects (cars, boats, etc) would be a logistical pain to move if they were on the upper levels. Three whole floors make up Q’s lair that he shares with thirty or so minions.

It’s Saturday, so only a skeleton crew is present most of them are working in the floors below. None are in the office areas.

Bond is still in the meeting upstairs with M and the others. So Q makes himself tea and sticks his nose in the steam curling out of the mug to open his sinuses. He’s running through the theory he’s told the others in his head - trying to poke holes in it. But no, the simulation running on his computer is telling him how terrifyingly efficient the AI would be once activated.

The main doors to Q-Branch offices hiss open. Q doesn’t turn around, knowing who it is. Bond comes to sit a little noisily in a swivel chair next to him, facing the other way. He’s radiating ‘we need to talk’ vibes, but even then Bond usually just invades his space until Q speaks first.

“James, I’m sorry about being a tosser this morning. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. The eggs were fine.” Q makes a peace offering. And since no one is around, he reaches out to trace a finger around Bond’s tie pin.

Bond doesn’t move away which means he’s forgiven. Thats the thing with Bond, he’s not really a man of many words when he’s not actively trying to charm a mark. So when he does want to talk, best pay attention.

“Whats the damage?” Q asks.

“Mark is going to need his own protection detail.”

“Oh, he’s going to love that….” Poor Mark is going to have to explain that to his Bumble dates.

“Well, it might teach him not to be such an enabler and grow a pair around you.”

“Hah! Tell it to his face.”

“I did. Now, stop making him do things that will get him in trouble. You don’t want that on your conscience.” Bond chastises. The poor guy is like Igor to Q’s Dr Frankenstein.

Suitably reproached, Q doesn’t have anything to say for himself. He continues playing with Bond’s tie.

“Mallory is thinking of forming an internal oversight committee to run risk analysis on Q-Branch projects. He doesn’t want to accidentally end up with a cyberworld equivalent of a Manhattan project in his lap.

“He’s afraid I’ll turn into Ozymandias…,” then remembering that Bond probably didn’t get the reference, ”Antagonist, very smart, tries to take over the world.” He supplies by way of explanation.  

Bond laughs a little, “If you do turn villainous, does that make me your henchman?”

Q considers, “More arc nemesis I should think. Don’t pretend that M won’t send you to shot me if I do. And don’t pretend you won’t either.”

“Are you expecting me to refuse?”

“No Mr Bond, I expect you to come get me.”

----  To Be Continued ---