#how to pass the patent bar without having to do any actual work please tell me

[officialbabayaga]

:(

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.7 (BAON)

Summary: Team Rescue is on the way...mostly. Look, they aren't good at names.

Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationships,  Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it here!

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Edge had been on worse car rides, but not many. In fact, he could only think of one; riding in the backseat of his own car with Stretch unconscious in his lap, his life ticking away in decimals as Edge desperately clung to Blue’s instruction that he should think of healing magic as similar to making a hollandaise.

It wasn’t ridiculous if it worked and sitting here in this silent car, hyperfocusing on the mostly empty roads with Blue next to him radiating grim determination and Antwan in the backseat, Edge found himself thinking of hollandaise again.

The mental picture of the saucepan was strangely easing, keeping his turbulent thoughts occupied. In his memory, Blue’s voice was preternaturally calm as he reminded them that all the butter couldn’t be added at once because the mixture would break. Edge followed the direction coming from his phone as the voice assistant instructed him in its robotic way to turn left, (you need to add the butter a little at a time) turn right, (whisk it in), your destination is on the left.

It was only when he pulled into the empty parking lot as directed that the real Blue spoke, his high voice uncertain over the confidence of his imaginary twin, “Shouldn’t the security teams be here?”

“No,” Edge said disgustedly. He threw the car into park and pressed a knuckle between his eye sockets with painful force. “because this isn’t the right place.”

The dilapidated sign over the empty storefront declared with a spooky if faded cheer to be ‘Spirit Halloween’ but the only spirits in this place were the ghosts of customers’ past.

“My brother’s sense of humor,” Edge said, “he’s sending us a message. We went trick or treating behind his back and here’s his trick.”

“Of course it is,” Blue muttered, sinking back in the seat. His gloved hands were tight in his lap, a mirror to Edge’s grip on the steering wheel. “Papyrus probably warned him hours ago that I’d left home. He would have been ready for something like this.”

Edge picked up his phone, his bare thumbs moving with cautious swiftness over the screen. “Yes, he would. Which is why we’re going to follow the other tracker now.”

“Other tracker?” Antwan leaned over the driver’s seat to look at the new directions scrolling up the phone screen. His laughter was uncomfortable, more nerves than humor. “How many trackers do you have on your brother?”

Not as many as he has on me, Edge did not say. “On a normal day, only one.” Edge pulled back out onto the empty street, following the monotone drone of the GPS. “Sans set it up for me when Red pulled his little disappearing act after California and then reappeared to wreak havoc on my kitchen.”

“He did what?” Blue asked and Edge winced internally, barely keeping it from showing on his face. He wasn’t at his best, that much was certain, spilling secrets out in a spreading pool, but caring about that would have to wait. There were only so many directions he could pull his focus for now and Blue was hardly going to take out an advertisement in the paper if he heard anything he shouldn’t. A bit of gossip when it came to office relationships and the local scandals aside, Blue was one of their diplomats and he was well able to use appropriate discretion.

Hopefully, his definition of appropriate did not include asking Red any uncomfortable questions at a later date.

“It doesn’t matter. As I was saying, I usually have one tracker on my brother just in case he gets it into his head to face something he shouldn’t alone.” Edge didn’t quite roll through a red light. Better to not get pulled over by the Ebott police if he could help it, Embassy security certainly had enough on their hands right now without having to handle minor traffic violations. “Except, as I said, Sans gave it to me. Which means it’s only as accurate as Sans wants it to be and he has an unfortunate tendency to match my brother when it comes to deciding he knows what’s best for other people.”

A certain sourness fell over Blue’s expression as he nodded. As both a younger brother and a diplomat he was quite familiar with the ongoing irritation of overprotectiveness, even as he often did the same to his own brother.

“Which is why tonight I added my own tracker to Red’s jacket,” Edge said, “I would have followed that one first, but I was hoping not to reveal it so quickly if I could help it.”

Blue hummed thoughtfully. “You don’t think he’d be expecting that?”

“Of course, but I think he’d have a harder time finding and disabling it. Stretch made it for me.” The memory of his maniacal delight when Edge told him what it was for was briefly allowed, as well as his satisfied triumph when he presented Edge with a device that was the size of match head, tagged with near-microscopic hooks reminiscent of Velcro that were made to catch and cling to any fabric with a mere touch.

His design was with the Research and Development team now, minus the tracking device, as they worked to find a use for it that would allow for them to sell it to Humans, along with a dozen other things he’d created. So many of Stretch’s designs ended up that way, patents in which he was not named used as bargaining chips to help keep their coffers full. Stretch always declared that he didn’t work for the Embassy and that much was true. Instead, he worked for all of Monsterkind, that clever mind of his working to get them the funds they needed establish a place in this world. Only a handful of people even knew it and while Asgore could be foolishly soft-hearted on occasion, he wouldn’t considering paying a large ransom for any citizen on the street, even if they were married to Edge. Stretch was important past his twitter feed and it would be narrow not to suspect that these kidnappers somehow learned about it.

This time the tracker was leading them to the other side of town, down on the north side where the neighborhoods were filled with condemned houses and boarded up businesses. The only industry that thrived there were liquor shops whose windows were barred, manned by cashiers who spent their days behind a thick layer of bulletproof glass. His car was going to stand out like a sore thumb, but it couldn’t be helped. He wasn’t about to waste anymore time by stopping at the Embassy to borrow something more discreet.

At least he could worry less about reprisals from rolling through stop sign; the Ebott police presence on this side of town was minimal.

They made their way through the empty streets without incident. It was late even for the criminal element and a glance down the alleyways they passed showed them filled with shadows that could have been trash cans or curled up humans sleeping amongst them.

Some of the children from the Y lived on this side of town. Actually, most of them did and some of them might well be sleeping on the street right now…no. He couldn’t think of that at this moment, one thing at a time. He couldn’t afford to have his attention ping-ponging around inside his head, not when their destination was in sight.

This time, there were plenty of cars parked in a semi-circle around the building, floodlights pouring from their windows and flashers circling on their rooftops. Embassy security teams were made up of Monsters and Humans, and there were plenty out there in their uniforms. The Ebott police were going to throw a fit about jurisdiction, of that he had no doubt, but that was going to be a tomorrow problem for the Legal department and their FBI connections.

One of the security personnel approached the car as Edge pulled up, both hands raised in a gesture that could either mean for them stop or for him to offer surrender. Edge rolled down his window and he ducked his head inside the car. “Sir, your husband and his friend are both fine,” he said without preamble. “This area is closed off, you should—”

“If you even suggest that I should leave, you’re going to be reassigned to the elementary school playground for the foreseeable future,” Edge said evenly.

To his credit, the guard’s expression did not change. “Wouldn’t dream of it, sir. I was going to tell you to park over on the north side,” He pointed to a clearing off behind the other cars. “Your brother is waiting for you up at the entrance.”

“Of course he is,” Edge muttered. “I’m sure we’ve kept him quite entertained with his version of hide and seek.” But he obeyed the direction.

He parked a fair distance away from the circle of the security vehicles and got out of the car, Antwan and Blue at his heels. No one else approached, the rest of the security team keeping a respectable distance away out of either direction from their leaders or simple self-preservation.

Standing near the warehouse entrance and out of the glare of the floodlights was Red, burrowed into his jacket with a Styrofoam cup in his hand and a cigar smoldering between his teeth. As if warned by his instincts or, more likely, through the curling earpiece that was stuck into his audial canal, Red turned to them as they approached. His grin was irritatingly knowing and familiar, pleased as a punch to have held them off long enough that everything was finished but the cleanup.

And yet, it was also such a comfort to see that smirk that Edge nearly went weak at the knees. He wouldn’t be smiling that way if Stretch or Jeff were hurt, even his brother’s sadism had its limits.

“what took you so long, you stop for coffee?” Red snorted. He held up the Styrofoam cup. “coulda brought me some, the shit they’ve got here’d give battery acid a run for its cash.”

“Yes, of course, we got stuck in the drive-thru at Starbucks," Edge snapped. “You’ll forgive me for not bringing enough for everyone!”

Before he could even demand a report, Blue went on past him. Parking lot gravel scattered under his booted feet as he stormed up to Red and swatted the cup from his hands. He paid no mind to the coffee sloshing out over their shoes, his small fists knotting into Red’s jacket front as he hauled him in close to snarl out, “WHERE IS MY BROTHER?”

Even through layers of forced calm, Edge could still appreciate the sight. It was certainly an unusual one. Blue was shorter even than Red and he wore no oversized jacket to give his small frame an illusion of bulk. The overwhelming visual was that of a tabby cat attacking the local tiger and if it were anyone else, Edge might have tried to intercede. It was possible he could have saved their lives, if not their limbs, had it been anyone but their innermost circle.

As it was, he tensed until his brother said mildly, “easy on the threads, baby blue, this’s my favorite jacket. my only one, too. they’re still upstairs. they ain't hurt, so we're lettin' 'em come down in their own time. ain’t no need to rush ‘em. think they needed a mo’ to catch their breath, s’all."

Blue didn’t wait for another word. He let go of Red and turned to the building entrance, running towards it. No one tried to stop him, though Edge noted with approval that one of the security team peeled away from the others to follow him at a discreet distance.

Antwan looked as if he was considering chasing after Blue, but he hung back. With the suspicious nature of a good lawyer, he asked Red, "If they’re fine, why aren’t you with them?"

"sweet that you think me bein' there would be some kinda comfort," Red snorted. "already saw 'em. head on up if you want, we've already cleared away the rest of the honey bun’s little scooby traps." Red offered them a vicious slash of grin. "your liability might need a new rating, he's damn creative when he’s got a hair laid across his ass just right."

That was enough for Antwan. He headed off in the direction Blue had, leaving Edge alone with his brother.

Edge waited until Antwan disappeared before he asked, low, "Where are they?"

Red only looked at him with mild reproach. “toldja, upstairs. what, you think i’d bullshit you on that?”

“I don’t mean them.”

Red was shaking his head before Edge finished. “nuh-uh, nope, not a chance. you ain’t gettin’ a look at those asswipes outside a courtroom. you’re keeping your toes behind the yellow line on this one, sneaking backstage ain’t happening, little brother.”

“I need to see—" Edge began heatedly.

“you fuckin’ don’t. you want to see and your wants ain’t on the list, not this time!” Red lowered his voice, “i get you wanted firecrackers and this is endin’ on a wet fart for you, but i ain’t explainin’ to the honey bun that i stood here and let you add a fresh shovelful of xp to your load on his account. so whyn’t you head upstairs now and go get your liability, huh? take him home and let us handle this, you can read the report tomorrow, yeah?”

Suspicion filtered through Edge’s strained temper, cooling it. Something of his brother’s little speech rang wrong to Edge; it was too consolatory towards him for their normal tastes, something was off here. Now that he was looking at it without his frustrations clouding things, there was also the matter of him leaving Stretch and Jeff alone; comforting presence or not, it was difficult to believe that Red would let them out of his sight unnecessarily. As shrewdly as he could still manage, Edge took a closer look at his brother.

Red did not have any LV but that certainly didn’t mean he had no trauma. His tells were subtle, unnoticeable to anyone who hadn’t watched them develop straight from the gutter. Eye lights slightly narrower than normal, his cigar clenched between too-tight teeth, the rare crackle of crimson magic arcing across his fingertips like a stray bolt of lightning.

There was something Red wasn’t saying, but there was no point in trying to fish it out now; he’d need better bait and Edge already had one in the net to deal with.

Better to leave it as it was. Even if the issue festered, his brother was unlikely to allow it to affect his work. It was difficult not to lay a hand on his brother’s shoulder, however briefly. Edge resisted the absurd impulse. It would not be appreciated. Unwanted concern was more likely to make things worse.

Instead, Edge nodded curtly and headed for the entrance. His boots clacked loudly on the cement floors. Security was milling in the hallways, others crouching over scorch marks and a strange overflowing mass of what looked like multicolored foam oozing down one side of the stairwell. Superfluous information, none of it mattered. He followed the subtle cues from the security personnel, the glances and occasional points that came without questions leading him up the rickety stairs to the second floor of offices and storerooms.

On the landing, a low sound caught his attention, a familiar voice crooning softly. Edge nearly skidded to a stop outside one of the rooms, looking in the open doorway to see the Swap brothers sitting together on the floor, holding each other tightly.

“hey, bro, shh, i’m okay. they didn’t hurt us, sans, i’m fine,” Stretch was saying. Blue was in his lap, clinging like the child he no longer was, and Stretch was rubbing a gentle hand down his brother’s back, leaving behind sooty streaks. He looked up, soft white eye lights catching on Edge still standing in the doorway. His cheekbones were wet, his wide sockets drowning in tears. Stretch scrubbed his face with the sleeve of a shirt that was not his own and managed a tremulous smile. "hey, handsome, miss me?"

He’d seen Stretch only hours ago, dressed in clothing stolen from Edge’s side of the closet and offering flirtatious kisses before walking out their front door. Now he was in baggy clothing that belong to neither of them, the shirt nearly hanging off his narrow shoulders and his bare legs sticking out from the bottoms of the too-short pants to leave the delicate bones of his feet filthy and exposed. All of him was filthy, his pale tears left clean tracks down his cheekbones and Edge did not know what Stretch had done to free them both, what he’d endured until he could., couldn’t begin to imagine it. Or perhaps he simply did not want to, and the precariously thin layer of Edge’s calm finally began to crack. All his desperate worries surged in through that first line of weakness to fill his face and then downward to soak into his aching soul.

"Don't—" Edge choked on the word, unsure what he was even going to say. Don't joke, don't dismiss this, don't ever leave me. He walked over and fell to his knees beside them, hardly feeling the warning jolt from his leg as he pulled them both into his arms rougher than he'd meant. Unnecessary, Stretch came easily, willingly, settling into his embrace exactly as if he belonged there, and brought his brother along for the ride.

"hey, i'm okay," Stretch said, pitching his voice for them both. He rested his forehead against Edge’s, settling a gentle hand on his sharp cheekbone with a sigh. "we’re okay, babe. it's okay."

"It is not okay by any stretch of the imagination,” Edge said hoarsely. His own hands were moving over Stretch, cautious of his lack of gloves even as he convinced himself that this was no dream, these well-loved bones were real. “And if you make a pun on that, you can ride home with my brother."

“wouldn’t joke about it, babe.” Then Stretch promptly made it a lie as he teased, “hope i get extra credit for not stretching things out, actually, ‘cause i sure didn’t get my ‘stay out of trouble’ badge tonight.”

“Pappy,” Blue moaned. His grip in the awful shirt Stretch was wearing twisted as if his disgust needed a physical outlet, “honestly, must you?”

Edge barked a laugh, hard and pained, but in his soul there was only giddy lightness. “No, you certainly did not. I would say any claim that you didn’t find trouble would be stretching things.”

Another groan from Blue was interrupted by a scuffing sound behind them. Edge jerked around, but it was only Antwan holding Jeff in his own tight embrace, whatever whispers between them too low to be heard. Edge hadn’t even noticed them when he first came in and the faint guilt from that was too small to be borne, already swallowed up in overwhelming relief.

Safe, they were both safe and unharmed, and Edge set his anger back, holding it in reserve. No matter what his brother thought, this was not over, and he would not be relegated to the injured group to recover, not this time.

But first, he was taking his love home.

tbc

[justlightlysedated]

Chad VS The League of Looking After Michael’s Welfare Because He Won’t Do it Himself

i started the bingo! @roswellprompts​​ @fraudulentzodiacs @dramaticcowboyangst​

This is my fill for the ‘The Anti-Chad Chad’ square and I hope y’all laugh as much as I did writing it!!

******

“Welcome to the First Meeting of the League of Looking After Michael’s Welfare Because He Won’t Do it Himself,” Alex starts his impromptu meeting standing in front of the table and looking at everyone.

Isobel is the only one who seems to be taking this as seriously as Alex is.

“Um,” Liz starts, but Maria shushes her.

“I don’t particularly care about Michael’s Welfare to be honest,” Kyle says leaning back in his chair before he flinches back and almost topples over from the strength of Alex’s glare.

“Don’t you think you’re over exaggerating just a little?” Max asks.

Everyone stares at him with varying incredulous looks.

“You? Giving advice on not to be Extra?” Isobel asks him. “The world is coming to an end.”

“Can we get back on track here?” Alex asks and then starts passing out manila folders to everyone.

“Um,” Liz starts again when she opens her folder to see a blown up picture of Michael with the guy he’s been seen hanging around for the past two weeks.

This time Maria doesn’t stop her.

“Chad is actually a really nice guy,” she starts.

Alex starts talking over her.

“We literally don’t know anything about this guy.”

“He works with me at the hospital,” Liz tries again.

Isobel talks over her this time.

“Yeah, all we know is that he’s new in town, but seriously, who’d move to Roswell, if they had another choice?”

“His grandfather retired to one of the old hunting cabins,” Liz says a little bit louder than she usually speaks. “You’ve probably seen him around, Alex.”

Alex is too busy agreeing with Isobel to listen to her.

They spend the next twenty minutes agreeing about how much Roswell sucks.

“You know, you can move, any time,” Maria says still flipping through the dossier.

Both Alex and Isobel look at her like she was crazy.

“Okay, so to recap,” Alex says. “All we know about this guy is that his name is Chad.”

He wrinkles his nose. So does Maria.

“He moved to Roswell for no reason.”

Liz throws her hands in the air and starts muttering under her breath in Spanish.

“And he’s managed to catch Michael’s attention, even though he’s patently a one man kind of bisexual.”

“That’s kind of biphobic,” Maria starts. “You can’t be mad that it’s another guy that he’s dating. He’s bisexual. It was always a possibility that he’d find someone other than you attract-”

“They’re not dating,” Alex says loudly speaking over Maria. “But Chad wants to date him, Michael is definitely playing hard to get, which means he’s interested, which means we have to kill Chad.”

“I think that’s a step too far,” Kyle says without looking up from the paperwork he’s reading.

Alex sighs and crosses out the last item on the list in front of him. “Fine, no murder.”

Isobel sighs as well.

“How did you even get your hand on his birth certificate and hospital reco-?” Max starts.

“The point is,” Alex says loudly. “That Michael is shit at taking care of himself when he likes someone.”

Everyone suddenly finds something other than Alex more interesting.

“So we have to do it for him.”

And because no one can actually disagree with that statement, they go along with Alex’s plan.

***

They send Liz in first.

***

“I already told you I work with him,” Liz says exasperated when Alex interrupts her in the middle of an experiment. “He’s a really nice guy, like an actual nice guy. He brings me lunch when he notices that I’ve worked through my lunch hour, and he actually listens when someone is speaking to them.”

***

“Welcome to the Second Meeting of the League of Looking After Michael’s Welfare Because He Won’t Do it Himself,” Alex starts off their second meeting.

Liz is noticeably absent.

“Where’s Liz?” Kyle asks.

“She’s moved on to a better place,” Alex replies.

“First order of business,” he keeps going before anyone can say anything else. “We’ve found out that he works at the hospital, so I did some digging-”

Kyle drops his head on the table.

Max leans his elbows on the table and looks at Alex seriously. “You hacked into the hospital records?”

Alex gives him a look, “It was literally like taking candy from a baby. I was shocked and appalled and ashamed at how easy it was to get in. I wrote them a strongly worded letter with some ideas as to how to better protect their records.”

Kyle picks his head up a little and then drops it back on the table with a thump.

Maria pats him on the back.

“Alex,” Max starts sounding a little condescending. “I can’t help you if you’re going to be doing illegal things.”

Alex looks at him, blinking blankly. “Because murder and being an accessory to murder are totally legal.”

“He’s got you there,” Isobel says.

“Fine,” Max says. “I’ll go next then, shall I?”

***

The less said about Max’s attempt the better.

***

“Look, it’s not my fault okay?” Max says as both Isobel and Alex stand over him while he sits in one of the booths at the Wild Pony waiting for Chad to come back with his refill. “He used my only weakness.”

Both Isobel and Alex stare at the pile of thick books in front of him on the table.

“For shame,” Isobel starts.

“I can’t believe that you would betray us like this,” Alex continues.

“Your own flesh and blood,” Isobel.

“After everything that we’ve done for you,” Alex.

“Oh,” Chad interrupts and both Isobel and Alex turn to him in unison. “I didn’t know you were all going to be here. I can go make another run to the bar.”

He smiles brightly.

Alex makes a rude noise with his mouth and rolls his eyes before turning around and walking out of the bar.

Isobel smiles back at Chad but it looks more like a shark smiling at a helpless seal it just found caught in a trap during a dry spell of food.

“We’ll be meeting again,” she tells him and then walks out after Alex, but with more dignity.

***

“Welcome to the Third Meeting of the League-”

“We know already,” Maria says and smiles when Alex glares at her interruption.

“Do I even want to know what happened to Max?”

“He’s sleeping with the fishes,” Alex responds completely serious.

Kyle drops his head to the table. At this point, he’s probably going to end up with a concussion by the time this is over.

“I think you’re going about this the wrong way,” Maria says as she stands and walks over to the front of the table, pushing Alex to sit down next to Isobel.

“Chad is the one we should be worried about here,” she continues as Isobel and Alex share a glance.

“He’s genuinely sweet, and he actually really likes Michael. I think that Michael is just using him to get over-”

“Okay first of all,” Alex says interrupting Maria. “Michael doesn’t use anyone, ever.”

“Second of all,” Isobel continues. “He knew exactly what kind of books Max likes. That’s really suspicious.”

“Actually it’s not,” Kyle says. “I heard him and Michael talking when Michael came by during one of Chad’s lunch breaks about Max-”

“Third of all,” Alex continues as though Kyle wasn’t even speaking. “His smile is creepy.”

“Really creepy,” Isobel says turning to Alex. “Like super ultra white.”

“Like only serial killers have smiles that white,” Alex replies.

“I think you’re skipping several steps there,” Kyle tries to interrupt.

“Yeah,” Maria says agreeing with Kyle. “Maybe he’s just really into oral hygiene, which confuses me, because who cares that much about their mouth and teeth and then just makes out with Guerin-”

“What?” Both Isobel and Alex ask at the same time.

“He kissed him,” Alex says voice soft and broken.

Everyone suddenly finds everything else more interesting than Alex.

“If it’s progressed to make outs we gotta move faster,” Isobel says taking over the meeting.

“Kyle,” she says turning to him, and Kyle sighs and raises his head from the table. “You’re next. Are you up for the challenge?”

He blinks blankly at her.

She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But you guys are definitely not going to like it.”

***

He’s right. They don’t.

***

“So,” Maria says stretching out the o. “Kyle is-”

“Paying a long extended visit to the hospital morgue, yes,” Alex says, but he hasn’t looked up from his laptop to even start their fourth meeting.

“There,” he says with satisfaction and closes the laptop and smiles at them. “Now it’s official.”

“What’s official?” Maria asks afraid of the answer given Alex’s current state of mind.

“I took care of Kyle,” he says cryptically. “Okay, let’s begin.”

“Welcome to the Fourth Meeting of the League of Looking After Michael’s Welfare Because He Won’t Do it Himself.”

“Or the League of We’re Using Military Satellites to Stalk Our Exes Because They Started Dating Someone New,” Maria says giving a pointed look at the tablet on the table streaming ongoing footage of Michael whenever he’s within view of a camera.

Alex doesn’t respond to that.

“We’re down to three,” Alex says. “And we don’t have that much time left. I overheard Michael making plans and I think it’s going to happen tonight.”

Maria closes her eyes. “Please tell me we’re not cockblocking Guerin.”

Isobel and Alex look at each other. “We’re not,” Alex says deliberately.

Isobel gives Maria a smirk. “But you are!”

“How am I supposed to do that exactly?” she asks looking between the two of them.

“I have a plan,” Isobel says and both her and Alex share a smirk.

***

The plan works. Ish.

***

“You’re stalking me?” is the first thing Michael says when he walks into Isobel’s patio to find her and Alex bent over a laptop that they both shut and smile at him beguiling, like he can’t tell when they’re both lying.

“Of course not,” Isobel starts.

“Why would I even need to stalk you?” Alex continues scoffing.

“All I have to do is call you and you’ll tell me exactly where you are or drop everything you’re doing to run to my side,” Isobel keeps going.

“And it’s not like I don’t have better things to do. My life doesn’t revolve around you Guerin,” Alex says and starts to gather up his papers only for a folder to fall on the floor and burst open showing all the pictures that Alex has printed of Michael’s face.

Michael looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “That’s not mine,” Alex says immediately. “I’m just holding it for a friend.”

“Right,” Michael says and looks at Alex intently with his wide intense eyes that can usually figure out very quickly what Alex is trying to hide, but this time he’s drawing a blank.

“They’re mine,” Isobel says coming to Alex’s rescue. “I need more pictures of you for my family scrapbook.”

She reaches over to the empty chair and pulls out a scrapbook, opening it to an empty page that has Michael’s name written in calligraphy at the top.

“Alex is helping me as the only other person in town that knows you as well as I do, what with Max on his road trip with Liz along the Coast of California.”

She smiles at him, and Michael knows that she’s lying but he doesn’t have any actual proof.

“Where is Maria?” he asks because he knows that she was involved in whatever this is after what happened last night.

“She’s with Rosa now,” Alex says sighing and dropping on his chair.

Michael gives Isobel a look. Isobel narrows her eyes at him, and looks pointedly at Alex.

Michael licks his lips and shrugs.

“Fine,” he says. “Don’t tell me the truth. But I’m watching you both.”

Alex sighs again and gives Michael a droll look. “How is that any different than usual?”

Michael doesn’t answer, he just turns and leaves, because Alex is right, but he doesn’t have to tell him that.

***

“You’re amazing,” Alex tells Isobel once Michael leaves.

“I know,” Isobel says smiling and sticking the scrapbook back in the chair. “And I’ve got a plan that won’t fail.”

She smirks at Alex, and Alex smirks back at her.

“I’m going in, and we’re going to figure out what this Chad actually wants with Michael.”

***

The plan fails, obviously.

***

“I cannot believe that you would do this to me,” Alex says when he gets to Isobel’s to see that she has company in the form of Chad.

Isobel gives him a guilty smile.

“I used my powers on him,” Isobel admits. “He has no ulterior motives. He actually really likes Michael. And he really wants to get to know us all, especially you since Michael talks about you a lot.”

She gives him a meaningful look, but Alex is too busy being upset.

“You were my last hope,” he says as though he hasn’t listened to a word she’s said, because he hasn’t.

“Alex,” Isobel says and puts her hands on his shoulders. “I think you should talk to Michael.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Alex responds immediately. “I’d literally rather lose my other leg than do that.”

Isobel makes a face at him.

“Thank you for being a traitor to the cause,”  Alex says as he turns to leave.

“Just because Max is gone doesn’t mean you have to pick up his mantle of Dramatique Bitch!” Isobel yells after him.

Alex ignores her. It’s time for him to step it up a notch.

***

He finds absolutely nothing dangerous and about sixty things that are too tragic to even share with anyone, and here is Alex sitting down at the Wild Pony with all of this forbidden knowledge about Michael’s boyfriend trying to drink himself into some sort of amnesia that’ll make him forget that Chad was six years old when his parents were killed in a car accident, he was raised in the foster system, falling through the cracks and becoming homeless at sixteen, doing suspect criminal activity to survive until he found his only living relative, his grandfather dying of cancer who retired two cabins down from the Valenti cabin, which is the reason he made the move to Roswell.

So Alex is here drinking to forget just how perfect Chad is for Michael, just how much they have in common, and how they can talk about their shared experiences, and just how wonderful it must be for them to actually talk about things.

Which is of course when Chad sits across the table from him.

He’s blonde and blue eyed with perfect teeth and looks like he hits the gym regularly, and Alex would love nothing more than to slit his throat with a rusty knife every time he thinks about the fact that he’s kissed Michael.

“I’m Chad,” he says smiling and holding his hand out for Alex to shake.

Alex looks at his hand, and then looks at Chad in the face and grabs his beer and takes a drink.

Chad’s hand falls to the table.

“Look, I understand that you may not like me,” he starts off looking earnest.

Alex scoffs, but doesn’t say anything.

“But I think that Michael can become someone really important to me, and I want to get to know every single person important to him because he loves you guys so much.”

Alex gives him an incredulous look. “Are you being serious right now?”

Chad frowns minutely but covers it up with a smile pretty quickly. Alex wonders how Michael feels about dating someone who’s never actually telling you how they feel.

“i don’t understand what you mean?”

“I don’t care if Michael becomes important to you,” Alex says using air quotes. “It’s not like it’s actually going to last.”

Chad frowns and this time he doesn’t try to hide it, which means points in his favor, bringing him to a whooping -383.

“Why do you say that?”

Alex downs the rest of his beer and sets it down before he leans over the table and looks at Chad in the eyes, tracking them down the length of his torso and back up, before scoffing and dismissing him.

“You’re perfect for him, I’ll give you that,” Alex starts. “But you’re hiding behind this whole smiling I’m a nice guy routine. And once he figures out that you’re just overcompensating because you are as interesting as a piece of cardboard, he won’t even look back.”

Chad opens his mouth and closes it a few times but before he can actually speak, Alex is talking again.

“Which I find interesting, with your past you should be as colorful as Michael is, but sadly you’re just completely boring and predictable.”

“I don’t know who you think you are-” Chad starts a spark of anger in his eyes.

“Hi,” Alex cuts him off. “I’m Alex Manes. Codebreaker, War Veteran, Purple Heart Recipient, and the only person to ever keep Michael’s attention for longer than a week.”

Chad swallows hard, but doesn’t back down, which more points for him. “Oh, and how long was that, because it’s been more than two weeks and he still hasn’t looked at anyone else.”

Alex snorts and rolls his eyes before he’s standing up. “It’s cute that you think this is a competition.”

“You’re the ex here, remember?” Chad snaps, and well, look at that, maybe there is something colorful in him after all.

“Yeah, but I’m also the one who kept his attention for the last ten years,” Alex says smiling when Chad’s face falls and he grabs his empty beer bottle and leaves him alone at the table. throwing the bottle in the trash on his way out.

***

Alex of course didn’t realize that everyone was hanging out at the bar along with Chad, playing pool on the other side of the room.

Michael takes one look at Chad’s face and stalks after Alex.

***

Isobel sits across from Chad.

“Sorry about that,” she says not really sounding sorry at all.

“We would’ve warned you,” Max continues sitting down beside Isobel. “But you can never be too sure how Alex will react to something.”

“And it was hilarious to see him rip into you like that,” Kyle says drinking his beer.

Both Maria and Liz punch Kyle on the shoulder as they pass him to sit down on either side of Chad.

“There are other fish in the sea,” Maria starts. “And they’re all a much better catch than Guer-ow!”

Maria glares at Isobel.

Isobel gives her a winning smile back.

Chad gives them all confused looks. “What are you talking about? Michael and I haven’t broken up.”

“Oh honey,” Isobel says sounding so sad.

“Come on,” Liz says because she actually likes Chad. “You should probably see it for yourself.”

Everyone migrates outside, as soon as the doors open all you can hear is Michael and Alex yelling at each other, over each other, neither of them listening, as they keep arguing, taking steps so that they’re steadily getting closer, eating the distance between them.

“-and maybe if you weren’t such a fucking coward-” Michael can be heard shouting.

“-you’re so selfish! You think everything is about you-” Alex can be heard shouting.

“-selfish?? You’re the one who can’t even deal with the fact that I might like another guy who is not you-”

“-did you just call me a coward? Where do you get off talking to me like that? After everything I’ve done for you-”

“-you can’t keep throwing that shit in my face! I didn’t make you do anything!”

“You didn’t have to! I did it because I love you!”

“I hate you so fucking much!” Michael yells right in front of Alex’s face.

And then they’re making out.

No one knows exactly who made the first move, but they all blinked and then suddenly Alex was pressing Michael back into the passenger side of the Michael’s truck, kissing him like he was trying to eat him alive, and Michael wasn’t faring any better, hands everywhere, pulling Alex back in with fingers in his hair when it looked like Alex was going to pull away.

Maria leaves to go back inside of the bar, muttering under her breath.

Everyone watches as Michael pushes Alex into the car, and starts biting down his neck.

“Are they gonna-?” Kyle starts.

“I hope not,” Isobel says wrinkling her nose.

“Hey!” Max yells. “Public indecency is a law you know!”

Both Michael and Alex, lift one hand in unison and flip Max off.

They didn’t stop kissing.

Chad makes a little hurt noise and Liz places a hand on his back. “Come on, let’s go drink our sorrows.”

Liz and Chad pass Maria who is coming out of the bar carrying a hose.

Maria doesn’t even say anything as she turns it on and sprays Alex and Michael until they’re about five feet apart and soaking wet.

“What the fuck Maria!?” Alex yells shaking the water from his hair.

“Horny cats get the hose,” she responds before turning the water on them once more for good measure and then she walks back inside of the bar.

Max is giving Michael a disappointed look.

“Don’t you think you guys should talk about your issues before falling into bed together?”

Alex and Michael look at each other and then burst out laughing.

“Of course not,” Alex says giving Max an incredulous look.

“Who am I?” Michael says moving next to Alex and slinging an arm around his shoulder. “You?”

“And besides, we’re not going to fall into bed together,” Alex continues. “The back of the truck will do for now. It’s been too long. I don’t want to wait.”

“Ew,” Max says.

Isobel gags.

Michael smiles and kisses Alex again.

***

Two Days Later

“Fuck. I forgot to break up with Chad.”

“I took care of that, don’t worry.”

“Should I be scared?”

“No, he’s just taking a nice long trip to the city in the sky.”

[serahsanguine]

Whats Left Unsaid, Says It All

What’s Left Unsaid, Says it all part 8/?

Rating; NC-17, NSFW

This Story can be found at  Ao3

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part5, part 6, Part 7, 

Tagging; @peacenik0  @today-in-fic

p.s. if you would like updates and be tagged please let me know

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

Chapter 8; The Burning Question.

"Hey, what’s up G-Man?" Frohike said while cooking up some Huevos Rancheros for himself, Langley and Byers as an afternoon snack. The cast iron skillet was sizzling with oil and he carefully placed six eggs in, then added peppers, tomatoes and beans.

"I need you to hack some medical records for me, ASAP" Mulder growled down the line, staring at Scully and her children.

"Yeah, no problem, whose medical records?"

"Scully’s" Mulder sighed.

"Whoa, whoa... why?" Frohike questioned, sprinkle some chilli powder on the omelette.

"It doesn't matter why. Can you do it or not, Frohike?"

"Yes, of course. We’ll get on it now."

Mulder hung the phone up and shoved it in his pocket; he was so angry... at himself, at Scully, at Melissa, at everyone. Dammit, how could he have been so stupid? So fucking stupid. He fucking loved a woman that had quite obviously cheated on him, ran away for him and left her job as his FBI partner. He felt like such a damn fool. He started walking quickly back to his car, just around the corner from the park, as soon as Scully was nowhere in sight.

Dark grey clouds started floating over the beautiful blue May sky, little raindrops falling from above but he was so lost in his mind that he didn’t realise; thoughts of Scully but more importantly he could not get passed her children... a little boy, all pale complexion with beautiful blue eyes and fiery red hair and a slightly more plump little girl with long brown chestnut hair and greenish-blue eyes. She looked so much like Samantha but this was not possible, neither child was his. Maybe when the little one called out dad she was mistaken, perhaps her real father looked like him.

He hadn’t been able to get the dream of him, Scully and their little family out of his head, even though he hadn’t wanted a family - well, not until this dream played on a loop in his subconscious, playing out numerous different happy family scenarios.

Mulder dreamt of their first Christmas together with lots of presents under the tree and him dressing up as santa, making his girls laugh. God, he loved to make Scully laugh. He dreamt of his daughter's first steps, first words. Suddenly, tears were streaming down his face and mixing with the rainwater as he reached his car, unlocked it and put the key in the ignition.

He realised he needed a stiff drink of alcohol to forget this day, forget what he saw, forget his life just for a little while, so he drove to the nearest D.C. bar.

The Next day

Mulder woke up face down on his leather sofa, still in the clothes he was wearing from the day before with empty liquor bottles everywhere and dirty clothes as far as the eye can see.

The sun was shining full force through the window, he looked up and groaned - his head hurt and his throat was sore. He had drunk his body weight three times over before getting home and then drinking some more just to make sure he got the job done.

He rolled over, swinging his legs off the sofa and planting his feet firmly on the floor and just sat there contemplating what to do next for a minute, he needed a plan but he couldn’t think straight with this epic hangover pulsing through his body.

He needed some coffee, painkillers and a hot shower immediately.

Mulder looked down at his clothes, absolutely disgusted, that he had slept in the clothes from the day before. They now stuck to his body, clinging to him from the sweat that had built up during the night, getting up he swayed on his legs ever so slightly but quickly regained his balance before walking over and turning on the coffee machine, grabbing two Advil out of the cupboard along with a glass of water. He swallowed the pills, moaning because his throat felt like sandpaper.

What the fuck had he got up to last night? It was all a bit of a blur at the moment.

He walked through to the bathroom, discarding his clothes along the way, before getting into the shower and turning it on to wash away the side effects of the night before.

One hour later: Mulder had put on some clean-ish clothes and was now sitting at his desk contemplating what to do, while drinking coffee and waiting for the information to come back from the Lone Gunmen.

Staring into his PC monitor, he tried to put things in order of his brain, when suddenly it hit him his bright idea like an epiphany of sorts, grabbing his mobile, keys and jacket before heading out the door and drove to Maggie's house, parking his normal spot before ringing Melissa Scully.

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

Melissa was playing peek a boo with the twins watching them laugh and smile while Scully sat on her mom's sofa drinking a small cup of tea when suddenly Melissa's phone rang - unknown number appearing on the screen.

"Hello?"

"Melissa. It’s Mulder, can you talk?"

Scully sat there looking at her sister mouthing ‘Who is it?'. Melissa looked back at her sister with a startling impression on her face and mouthed back ‘Mul-der ’. Scully gave her a look that said take it outside before the twins made some noise.

"Of course, give me a minute? I just need to go outside where it's... quiet"

"Okay" Mulder mumbled, trying to hold back his emotions.

Melissa wandered outside, closing the front door behind herself, and sat down on the bench in her mom’s garden just underneath the front window. And without knowing it she was now in the direct eye line of Mulder, who was sitting in his car across the street.

"How are you, Mulder?" Melissa asked, her patented kindness on show.

"I’m fine" Missy could tell that Mulder was lying but didn't push the subject "I was wondering if we could meet up somewhere when your back in D.C." he asked.

"I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, after the last encounter we had. You scared me, Mulder"

"I know, and you’re probably right... but I want to apologize for my behaviour" and ask about those children I saw your sister with at the park, he wanted to add but stopped himself.

"OK, but it has to be somewhere public..."

"That's fine by me. How about you meet me at 'The Sheppard' and you decide the date and time" Mulder interrupted, not wanting to give up on a meeting that could give him the answers to all of the questions in his mind right now.

"The Sheppard works. Say this Thursday... at 7 o'clock?" Melissa offered.

"OK, see you then" Mulder agreed.

Both hung up at the exact same time. Mulder watched Missy as Scully opened the front door with the little girl on her hip and stepped backwards to her sister could come back into the house. Now that the time and date was set; the first part of his plan was achieved. Just two more days until he finally got some answers. Mulder drove off in the direction of the Hoover building.

Meanwhile, the moment Missy stepped through the door she took Elissa from Scully and wrapped herself in her niece' embrace before letting out a small sigh before answering any and all questions by her mother and sister that were likely to be headed her way any minute now.

The Sheppard 7 pm Thursday

Mulder sat at the bar, nursing a beer he had bought twenty minutes ago, he wanted to be sober when this conversation happened. But his mind was screaming for him to be drunk, he was doing the right thing he definitely needed to be calm and collected, needed to know everything about those children he saw with Scully... needed to know if they were his.

It had been all he could think about for the past two days. Work, as usual, was unproductive and Skinner even sent him home, having become tired of the brooding and angry vibes coming off of him in waves.

A few minutes later he saw a bounce of red hair come through the door, looking up what he saw unnerved him. It wasn't Melissa like he was expecting it to be. No, who he saw was more petite than her. It was Scully (his Scully) with her glowing crimson hair and deep blue eyes that had walked into the bar.

Mulder was shocked, to say the least, and it certainly was an unexpected turn of events but it gave him hope that he would actually get the answers he was looking for... straight from the source.

Scully walked over to him wearing casual dark jeans and a white blouse with a thin light jacket over the top. She looked amazing even though he had seen her just a few days ago. She would always take his breath away, he thought.

She sat down next to him quickly ordering a diet coke and looked up at him, shyly.

"Hey, Mulder"

"Scully"

‘I know you weren't expecting me, but I hope you don't mind that I've come in Missy's place"

 Well, yes actually I do mind! This would've been a damn sight easier if it was Melissa, Mulder thought but what he actually said was "No, I don't mind. It's nice to see you, you look good. You've changed"

"Yes. A lot has changed since..." Scully trailed off not finishing the sentence as she could not bring herself to say the words - I left without telling you why. No, I ran away like a scared child... taking your kids with me.

"Care to tell me what has changed in your life?" God, he sounds like a asshole right now but he wanted her to say it, to admit to something. When did speaking to her become so damn hard?

"Nothing... well, nothing important anyway" a brief awkward silence fell upon them, until Mulder realised she wasn't going to say anything so he just had to man up and ask and see where it went from there even if it terrified him.

"So, you've been in D.C. for a couple of days then?" Mulder thought he sounded smooth and casual but he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"I have..." How could he know? What if he saw me with the twins? What if.. oh god. I don't think I can do this. What if he asks about them? "Why?" Scully wondered out loud.

"Well," How am I going to bring this up? Just blurt it out or dance around the fact? Then Scully looked at him with her eyebrow raised as if to continue the sentence "I saw you. Umm, the other day... at the park... with two small children"

Before Mulder could even get out the next part of his question Scully interrupted him.

"They aren't mine, Mulder. They're Melissa's kids... she came back from California with them. Completely freaked Mom out, it was actually kind of funny"

"Don't lie to me! Scully, we both know you're better than that... or at least you used to be" Mulder spat, a hint of aggression in his voice now. He hated being lied to especially by Scully and especially after everything she had done to him, he just wanted the truth. That's all.

"I..."

"I heard them. I saw them, Scully. They're yours, I know they are. So, just tell me the truth"

"Yes," She took a deep breath in, willing herself to stay calm and be honest with him "They are mine"

Finally, the truth! It's all he has wanted. His whole life, ever since losing Samantha. It was all about finding the truth. He looked down at his beer on the bar top. He needed to push her just a little further, that all important burning question on his lips. "Are they mine?"

"No"

Mulder looked at her and knew without a doubt that she was lying, and she knew that he knew that too. Plus, she was way to quick and resolute with her answer... too quick on the mark as they say, to indifferent about the whole situation.

"Don't fucking lie to me, Dana! The little girl... she is the spitting image of my sister, Samantha. I want to see them, I want to get to know them. They deserve to know their father, don't you think?" Mulder knew that he was raising his voice but he didn't care right now. Scully was lying straight to his face, and refusing to admit what they both know - that he is their father.

"No! Mulder, stop!" Scully stood up, paid for her drink and walked away. Mulder quickly thumbed through his wallet putting a 20 dollar bill on the bar and running after her.

"Scully, they're my children too. You can't deny me the chance to see my own flesh and blood!"

Scully didn't look at him as she got up and walked towards the door. She didn't turn around when he called her name in the most heartbreaking anguish she had ever heard. So, he made him turn around, by grabbing her wrist and spinning her around so he could see her face.

"Dammit, Scully! I want to know my children... I have a right to see them" Mulder was still shouting. He was so damn angry at her for not letting him see his own children! He wanted to see them, wanted to get to know... wanted them to have a different relationship with him that he had with his own parents.

"No, now let me go!"

"Scully, please! I want to see them, just let me see them... once!"

"No, Mulder. Let go of me... NOW!" Scully demanded, trying to yank her wrist free and leaving the bar... to get away from Mulder.

"Fuck you, Scully!" Mulder screamed back before bending down and kissing her. It came out of nowhere, just an impulse... no thinking required. Just do!

As soon as his lips touched hers it was like magic and fireworks exploding between them.

She opened his mouth more with her own and their tongues touched for the first time in more than a year. She had missed him as much as he had missed her but she was so lost and everything was a mess. What was she doing? No, she shouldn't be doing this! Not now!

Scully pulled back, raising her hand to his face - the impact of the hit nearly knocked him off his feet. And the sound it made, you could hear it bouncing off of the walls of the dark alley.

She turned around and quickly flagged down a taxi.

"Scully, I am sorry. I really am!" Mulder tried to apologise, for what he had no idea but it felt like the correct response.

She didn't acknowledge him, didn't even respond to him as she slammed the door of the taxi and left him there on the sidewalk, only then did she let the tears fall.

For all of the consequences of their actions... and for what the future holds now.

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 50

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS: Jamie and Claire see at first hand the business that Madame Cheung is in and Claire is troubled by the exploitation of the girls there.  When they return to the house, she discusses her disgust and abhorrence with Jamie.

Woo! Hoo! Chapter 50! ... THANK YOU so much for coming on this journey with me to the covert world of Section One. I appreciate each and every one of you who has embraced this story and read each chapter I have posted. I hope you are enjoying this rollercoaster ride of Jamie and Claire and the life they lead as operatives in trying to capture the terrorists and those who would do harm. I have really valued your support over the last 49 chapters.  To those who may have just found this story, I say THANK YOU as well for reading, liking or reblogging my story.  Previous chapters can be found … below.

Chapters 1 - 50 can be found at …https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

 CHAPTER 50

  Madame Cheung’s new club was a short distance further along the street and they soon took a sharp left and turned into what appeared to be a forbidding alley. This lane was very different from others they had passed. It was covered overhead with large canopies that stretched from one side to the other and almost appeared to be air-conditioned as it was significantly cooler than out on the main road.  Along the way numerous neon signs flickered advertising the different nightclubs and bars where people could be entertained for a price. Hustlers from two or three of the similar clubs beckoned any potential clients to come closer to inspect the entertainment available while Thai hawkers tried to verbally entice them into their establishments.

The noise in the alleyway was boisterous not only from the spruikers but from the milling crowd that walked along the lane that the hawkers failed to notice the formidable woman and her entourage walk past.   Not realising who the important woman was with the young couple, it was only when the spruikers saw the four bodyguards looming behind that they knew who this woman really was. Their banter stopped and they stood there carefully watching as the imposing Chinese woman and her companions all ignored their requests and kept on walking. Madame Cheung gave each vendor an icy cold glare as she passed by and the others realised that their trade tonight would be diminished now that a senior member of the Rising Dragons’ Triad had arrived to inspect her new establishment.  They watched as she continued down the street towards a brightly lit sign near the end of the alley that beckoned and a logo that was more noticeable and more dazzling than that of their own establishments. 

“Come we are nearly there,” Madame Cheung announced with a decisive pride in her voice.

Beneath the flashing neon sign and amid a crush of men lined up to enter the property they reached the entrance to her new club. Raucous wolf whistles filled the evening air when the men saw the exquisite, tall brunette woman pass by thinking that she was one of the new ladies who would cater to their personal preference requests. Claire smiled but ignored their enthusiastic jibes as she bypassed those gathered. However, the men were soon silenced when Jamie wrapped his arm around Claire’s waist and cast his steely look their way signalling that the woman was indeed with him. They continued a little further down the street before entering the building by a side door and followed Madame Cheung inside where a petite Thai woman was there to greet them.

“S̄wạs̄dī - Good evening Madame,” the young girl repeated in English as she acknowledged her employer with a slight bow with the palms of her hands pressed together in a prayer-like fashion.

Madame Cheung returned the greeting.

“I see business is booming tonight Mali,” she replied most pleased knowing that the crowd outside her business establishment was considerable, which meant that these paying customers would indeed add to the coffers of the triad tonight.

“Yes, Madame Cheung ... it has been very steady.”

“That is good.” She then issued another order, “Tell Suchin I wish to see her in my office.”

“Straight away Madame,” she replied making her way out of the office to find the person in question.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ A short while later a beautiful Thai girl with glowing skin and beautiful ebony hair appeared in Madame Cheung’s office where she was conversing with Jamie and Claire trying to impress Le Comte St Germain as to the success of her establishment here in Patpong. She stopped talking when she realised that the girl had entered the office.

“Ah, Suchin, come in my dear. I am very impressed ... you have done wonders here in managing the club,” Madame Cheung said as the girl approached her desk. “I have been examining the books and I see our profits are up 100 percent from last week. Great work.”

“Thank you Madame,” Suchin replied a little embarrassed by the compliment.

Madame Cheung merely smiled and turning her attention towards her two guests she stated, “I’d like to introduce Monsieur Le Comte St Germain and my newest protégé Claire Beauchamp.” The Thai girl nodded her head in greeting as Madame Cheung continued. “Would you show them around? Monsieur Le Comte is thinking of becoming my business partner so he will want to see how things operate here.” “Certainly Madame ... follow me please,” she urged gesturing to the two Section One operatives to follow her out of the office little knowing that they were doing reconnaissance on the building for their future plans.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Jamie and Claire exited the office, they saw a stairway leading upwards to another level. Tuneful music could be heard coming from the second floor and they proceeded up the stairs to find a room where padded bench-style seating ran along the back of the wall. The area looked very comfortable and a well-stocked bar ran alongside the opposite far wall. There were several escort girls congregating near the dance stage and some more in a curved corner of the bench seating waiting for the male clientele they knew would soon be here from outside. A number of the girls looked no older than teenagers and Claire cast a probing look Jamie’s way, but he merely responded with his patent blank stare. However, she immediately knew exactly what he was thinking without communicating one word. Those non-verbal responses were a pattern between the two of them and Claire responded with a sight tilt of her head in understanding. Her eyes scanned the upper floor with interest and when she noticed a young scantily dressed dancer was getting ready to perform, an eerie feeling of déjà vu weighed heavily on Claire.  This club was similar to what she had worked in, in Hong Kong, when Oliver Chan had approached her.  These kinds of establishments were obviously typical for the Rising Dragons and were used to lure young women into prostitution with little or no way out. It made her feel sick to the stomach. The vile taste of bile rose in her throat and Claire swallowed the acrid fluid quickly when their hostess spoke. “Would you care for something to drink?” Suchin asked as they approached the bar area. Turning back to face the Thai girl after casting a covert glance around the room as well Jamie replied, “Cha ... thank you.”

A little surprised at his beverage request she answered, “Of course, Monsieur Le Comte.  Tea is certainly more refreshing in this heat. And you ma’am?”

“I agree, tea sounds perfect. Thank you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Suchin ordered the tea to be brought to a table near the bar and when it arrived, she poured the hot brew into the small oriental cups then passed them to Jamie and Claire. They placed the cups to their lips and drank while their eyes surreptitiously surveyed the surroundings once more.

As they drank, she began to promote the wonderful things about the club to Madame Cheung’s potential partner and in particular the policy to which all the patrons of the club must adhere.

“There are certain rules here Monsieur Le Comte that Madame insists upon. For one thing, there are no drugs and the other, safe sex.”

“Commendable indeed,” Jamie replied.

“Yes, Madame Cheung insists that the girls are tested regularly for drug use or any sexually transmitted diseases.” 

“The girls appear young,” Claire stated casting her eye around the room at the girls who were waiting for the male patrons to enter.

Ready with an appropriate response Suchin elaborated, “Yes we like to train them early Miss Beauchamp. In actual fact we rescue them from rural poverty, for many are the youngest in large families that are already struggling to make ends meet. It is truly a blessing that Madame Cheung is so benevolent to her girls.”  

Her answer was indicative of them being a godsend for the girls working there rather than the true answer to their plight and Claire was inwardly seething at her flippant reply. It took all of her willpower to bite her tongue and if not for Jamie continuing the conversation, she may have said something she would have regretted.  

“Interesting you should say that Suchin. That is my line of occupation too,” Jamie stated with a forced smile on his face as if this information was normal practise for all of these establishments. “Ah, I can see now why Madame wants to be in business with you Monsieur,” Suchin replied with a tacit understanding as to her employer’s motives in seeking to form a partnership with this man. “Madame Cheung is like a mother to them ... a role model for the girls. They love this work.” The words were spoken so naturally and with complete pride in her voice that Claire nearly spilt the tea down her dress as she chocked on a mouthful of the hot brew. She found herself listening with a heavy heart. The frustrations building inside her were being exacerbated the more the Thai girl extolled the virtues of Madame Cheung. Claire was appalled at the underlying underbelly of her business which ultimately was the exploitation of young gullible and innocent poor victims. When they had finished their tea, Suchin announced, “Shall we go? I have more I would like to show you.” “Certainly.” Moving back below, they proceeded with their inspection of Madame Cheung’s latest establishment from the discreet quiet quarters for tète et tètes to the more public rooms where girls mingled with the clientele. In one such area there were several banquette lounges, and a number of the men who had been waiting outside now intermingled with the beautifully attired Thai and other Asian girls. The new club certainly catered for all kinds of decadent requests and sensing Claire’s distaste in the whole situation, Jamie indicated that he had seen enough, and requested that they return to Madame Cheung’s office. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Looking up from her ledgers as she heard them all enter the office Madame Cheung proclaimed, “Ah, you are back. I trust that Suchin showed you all around our modest establishment Monsieur St Germain?”

“Yes she was very thorough,” Jamie replied smiling at her but at the same time trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.

Madame Cheung was most pleased at this statement.  “Good. So, Monsieur Le Comte ... have you reached a decision?” Her expression was hopeful as she looked at him and waited for his reply.

“I believe we can do business together Madame Cheung. I can definitely help you out. Do we have an agreement?” Jamie reached out his hand as she stood up to acknowledge his reply. Madame Cheung could not wipe the smile off her face. “Yes ... I think we have a perfect understanding Monsieur Le Comte ... I never doubted that would be your answer. Shall we have a drink to toast our collaboration?” “Of course.” Depressing her call button she summoned for champagne to be sent to the office. “Mali... bring my best champagne ... we have cause to celebrate.” “At once Madame.”

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Here’s to a most beneficial association for the Rising Dragons ... and for me. I believe that you will go far in our organisation Monsieur Le Comte.” “Merci, you are too kind Madame Cheung ... but I’m sure your association with me will be the better one. I have plans for you Madame that you will not be able to resist.” “Sounds intriguing Monsieur ... I look forward to that and so much more from our association ... May it be a long and successful one.” “Oh it will be very successful ... I can assure you.”

Jamie’s ambiguous answer given to this terrorist who soon would feel the wrath of an interrogation in the White Room was cause for a wry smile not only from him but from Claire as well who could not wait until this woman was no longer around to inflict more hardship on vulnerable young women.  

Later that evening ... 

Jamie noticed Claire’s quietness and melancholic mood since returning from Madame Cheung’s club this evening, and as she sat down, he broached the cause of her disquiet.

“Sassenach, what's wrong?” 

“Jamie, I just need to talk.” Little did he know that she would unburden all of her pent-up frustration at what she had seen. “We have to do something ... this can’t go on. Those girls tonight were mere babies. It’s exploitation of the worse kind. I can’t bear this another moment.” “Listen to me Claire … You're too emotionally vested. Don’t worry ... it is all under control.” “Control? What control? These are innocent, lovely girls, born on poverty-stricken farms in Thailand and other places in Asia, who are being exploited.” Jamie tried to reply as sympathetically as he could particularly knowing Claire’s mindset at the moment.  This mission had tested her emotions and her empathy for the vulnerable women caught up in this insidious business. “Unfortunately child exploitation is prevalent in poor, underdeveloped countries Sassenach.” “Yeah ... I’ve heard the spiel before! Unscrupulous "career counsellors" and "job experts" eagerly trek to their villages seeking out these lovely underage girls. They take them to Bangkok with a promise of marriage, education, and well-paying jobs. It’s a farce Jamie ... it’s sickening.” “That’s the business Le Comte St. Germain and Madame Cheung are in mo nighean donn.” “What did Suchin call it? ... Ah ... yes ... We like to rescue them from rural poverty because they like to train them early.” Jamie could see that his Claire was upset by what she had seen and witnessed and tried to diffuse the situation with some words that would ease her distress to what would happen.  “We will do something about it Sassenach. Madame Cheung won’t be in business for much longer.” “When Jamie?” “Soon ... be patient mo ghràidh.” Claire was nearly at her wits end while the emotion in her voice indicated that she was bordering on tears.  “I have been patient Jamie ... I don’t know how much longer I can be. These girls are sold for the price of a television set or opium or for a quick baht in their parents’ pockets ... maybe even kidnapped.” “Unfortunately it's not called kidnapping if illiterate parents draw their X's on paper releasing their daughters. St. Germain was a master at doing just that … exploiting the illiteracy of the parents.” “He’s dead ... thank God! It’s duping them into selling their daughters’ souls. These trusting girls have no idea what awaits them here in Bangkok when they are forced to prance on stage and are sold like animals in a meat market Jamie. They end up with no rights and no life. It’s vile ... it makes me nauseous.”

“Dinna fash yersel' Sassenach. Once we know Madame Cheung’s schedule, we’ll implement the profile but we’ll need to know her plans for the next two days ... Just be prepared for anything.”

“Good. I’ll find out that information then,” she stated emphatically.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Claire’s passionate tirade showed her deep compassion for the oppressed innocents that Madame Cheung exploited in Hong Kong as well as here in Thailand which was obviously only the tip of the iceberg. Jamie knew that the sooner she was Section One’s guest the better it would be and the faster Claire would be released from her deep cover mission. They stared at one another in silence and Jamie watched the weariness of this mission wash over her features. She had endured a lot over the past few weeks and the subterfuge around Madame Cheung was beginning to take its toll. Claire needed closure on this mission sooner rather than later or her emotions would be further affected and the pretence life that she had embraced under the Rising Dragons’ triad needed to be done with.   In order to do this Jamie knew that his planned scenario only needed the green light from Madame Cheung herself. When they knew her movements ... he would contact Section to alert Abernathy’s secondary team to provide back up for first team, but until then they needed to be cautious and wait for the window of opportunity they needed.

His Claire needed to regain the happiness in her eyes that had been eroded bit by bit because of this mission and she needed to know what it felt liked to be loved.  Jamie knew what he needed to do to bring that spark back to her eyes and placed his hand over the small package he had put in the pocket of his jacket.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Claire let his words sink in Jamie approached her and stood quietly until she looked up. Her eyes connected with his in inquiry for he had a look on his face that she could not quite decipher. She watched somewhat perplexed as her eyes looked at his hands then to his face before following his hand movements again to where it rested on his chest.  Unexpectedly Jamie then reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box and handed it to her. 

“What’s this?” She asked in surprise at receiving the gift but a smile bowed her mouth at his unexpected gesture. “Just open it,” he uttered softly as his fingers beat a little nervous thrum on his thigh. Jamie watched as Claire bit her lip in anticipation of what it could be, but his thoughts remembered the only other gift he’d ever given her on her first mission when he’d taken her to the restaurant. Claire had thought it was a celebratory dinner for graduating from the extensive Section One training regimen she had endured for four years, but he had dashed her hopes when he’d presented her with the gun and told her what to do. This time however, Claire’s eyes filled with wonder and unshed tears as she saw the lovely Franck Muller watch she had wanted. Looking up her eyes captured his hopeful gaze with such tenderness and gratitude at his wonderful gesture that her look pierced his heart. He had never given her anything personal before and he knew that the present was beyond priceless to Claire. At this moment he was lost for words and didn’t quite know what he should do when she stood up. “It’s lovely ... thank you Jamie,” she replied her voice choking up with emotion. Spontaneously Claire threw her arms around Jamie’s neck and kissed him, hugging him to her chest realising just what he’d done for her. His lips softly caressed hers in return tasting the salty tears that had trickled down her cheeks.  Ever so gently he brushed them away with his fingers, then reciprocating the embrace, he held her tight deepening the kiss as his lips fused with her pliable mouth once more.

Claire groaned, then picking her up, Jamie carried her into the bedroom, their conversation about Madame Cheung and child exploitation all but forgotten for the time being. 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

[noirangetrois]

Cocktail Friday

Prompt: If you bottle up your emotions for long enough, eventually you can use them as Molotov cocktails.

Duo had a plan.

Well, plan was a strong term. More of a subconscious strategy that repeated itself an a semi-regular basis. It was quite excellent for getting his way, you see. He was aware of what he did, suppressing his emotions until all hell broke loose and the others acceded to his demands. He felt vaguely guilty about it because he knew it was kind of manipulative, but then he never claimed to have healthy relationship skills. Not in the slightest.

This time at least, he'd nailed down some of the details.

This was the last time. He would put up with it no longer. It was time to introduce dear Heero to the Wrath of Shinigami.

It was Friday, which meant Karaoke night with the gang. Unfortunately, Quatre wouldn't be making it this week – business trip, again – but Duo had scored the coup de gras: he'd wrangled a promise out of none other than Director Une to join them.

Peter D's was the place, a beautiful little dive bar a few blocks from the Preventers' main office in Brussels. If, by beautiful, you meant dark, dingy, with sticky spots on the floor, petrified gum stuck to the underside of the bar, and a karaoke machine that gave feedback to rival any chalkboard-scratching torture session. In other words, everything a quality dive bar should be. Hell, even the music was dive quality. Only stuff in the public domain, from back before AC. 20th through 22nd century AD tracks, mostly.

"Can't Take It," by the All-American Rejects, was Duo's song of choice. He was pissed, after all, and it summed up his feelings rather well.

Molotov Cocktail would be his drink order, later in the evening at least. Dangerous, considering his plan, but he was 85% sure it wouldn't cause any burns. Or maybe he'd chicken out about that part. Time would tell.

Either way, it was on.

-----

"Heero, my man!" Duo called from the bar, waving him over. As usual, Heero was one of the last to arrive, always staying late at the office to finish up something or other.

Duo knew Heero got judgy when he skipped out of there right at five o'clock on Fridays, though to be fair, Duo totally passed on Karaoke night when they had an important case to finish. When they weren't on a major case, though, Duo peaced out as soon as the clock struck five. As partners, they had very different approaches to work. It caused friction sometimes, sure, but mostly they complimented each other.

"What's it gonna be tonight? More Metallica?" Duo asked, brushing some peanut shells off the stool next to him so Heero could sit.

"System of a Down, probably," Heero said, flagging down the bartender.  "Long Island, please."

"Sure thing, Heero," replied Johnny, the bar tender and, believe it or not, owner. Nobody had ever managed to get him to explain where the name of the bar came from, no matter how they pried. Duo had decided that Peter D was the name of some dead cousin or something. Other people suspected Peter Downing, famous soccer star who played for Manchester United. But Johnny never had soccer playing on the two ancient TV screens, so he figured that was a no.

Heero glanced over at Duo's beer.

"Arrogant Bastard? Really?" he asked.

"Of course! Remember that case we had out in San Diego? This beer was the best part of that whole trip! I really miss Stone Brewery [1], man. Besides, the whole winged demon drinking from a pint aesthetic really jives with me, yanno? God of Death, here," Duo said with a wink.

Heero just snorted.

-----

It was time. Duo was up. He cued up the song, grabbed the cordless mike, and made his way to the stage. The group had claimed a large table, right in front, which was just what Duo needed. Heero was even sitting at the end. Perfect.

It was a pretty good turnout tonight. In addition to Heero and Une, Hilde, Trowa, Sally, Wufei and Dorothy were crowded around it. He smirked at them as the music started, then brought the mike to his mouth.

You speak to me and I know this will be temporary You ask to leave, But I can tell you that I've had enough

As the next stanza began, Duo made his way down the steps, winding in and out through the crowded tables.

I can't take it This welcome is gone and I've waited long enough to make it

Duo stopped in front of Heero, who looked somewhat taken aback, while the others at their table were cheering and catcalling. He lifted his finger, pointing straight at his partner.

And if you're so strong You might as well just do it alone And I'll watch you go

He let his hand drop, then stepped forward, crowding into Heero's personal space and bending down so their faces were even. Duo narrowed his eyes, letting some of his rage drift to the surface.

Step up to me I know that you've got something buried I'll set you free You set conditions, but I've had enough

I can't take it This welcome is gone and I've waited long enough

As the song continued, Duo stood back up and headed back to the stage. Heero had not liked that, nosiree. Good. If Duo had managed to scare up the patented Heero Yuy Death Glare™, then this was going exactly as planned.

The song came to an end, and the whole place cheered, Hilde even giving him a standing ovation. And was that a wolf whistle from Dorothy? No matter. They weren't important tonight.

Duo handed the mike off to the next singer, then headed for the bar. He waved at Johnny, but the place was hopping this late at night and the man was busy with another order.

"That was interesting," came a voice from his left. Une looked over him carefully, eyebrow raised. "Anything I should know about?"

"Oh nothing, just fooling around," he replied, winking.

"I see. In that case, please inform Heero. He's got his murder face on, and everyone's a little nervous about it."

"Everyone? Even Dorothy?"

Une rolled her eyes.

"Well of course not Dorothy. She's just grinning that evil grin of hers, probably anticipating the fallout with no small measure of glee. Seriously Duo, what's going on?"

Duo scowled.

"Alright, you got me. I'm pissed, and I want a temporary reassignment to another partner," he bit out.

Une looked genuinely shocked.

"Reassignment? Whatever for?"

"I'll tell you after I tell him." Duo turned back to the bar, where Johnny was waiting to take his order.

"Molotov cocktail. Make it strong."

Johnny tweaked an eyebrow. "Flames and all?"

"Flames and all."

"Coming right up, boss."

Duo looked back at Une.

"What? I'm in the mood for something on fire right now."

"As long as the fire remains confined to the glass, I've no problems with that," Une replied, then turned and went back to their table.

"No promises," Duo grumbled.

Johnny lit the drink up, then Duo grabbed it, lobbing a "Thanks!" back over his shoulder as he turned away.

He made a beeline for Heero, who was still glaring.

"It's time we took a break, Heero. After the shit you pulled today, I've had it. I'm getting a new partner."

Heero just blinked for a second before the scowl returned to his face. He stood up, stepping in close.

"If you would show me some god damned respect, I wouldn't have to resort to such drastic measures, Duo," he spat.

"Yeah Heero? I'll show you some fucking drastic measures!!" Duo screamed, then threw the Molotov cocktail in Heero's face.

There was a shocked gasp that echoed around the table, and then Heero's fist came screaming into Duo's face. He stumbled back, grinning. This was exactly what he was looking for.

"How's that for some respect?" Duo taunted, bringing his own fists up and shifting his weight to the balls of his feet.

Heero just glared harder, if that were possible, then lunged. Duo dodged this time, only to be put in an arm lock from behind.

"That's enough!" Une's voice rang through the now quiet bar, all eyes on the former pilots.

Duo struggled, but Hilde had him well and truly restrained. Trowa was doing the same to Heero.

"Forget temporary reassignment, Maxwell. You're suspended, effective immediately. What the hell is this about, anyway?" she demanded.

Duo just grinned.

"Heero won't stop pulling my hair. He's like a child. Frustrated with Duo? Who needs communication when you can yank on his braid? I've had it. You do that again, Yuy, and I'll fucking castrate you, you got it?"

Heero just continued to glare daggers at him. Again with the excellent communication skills.

"Hilde, take him home, and be sure to relieve him of his gun and badge. We'll be in touch, Mr. Maxwell," Une concluded, then grabbed her coat and left, knowing full well her orders would be carried out without the need to supervise.

"You know what, Duo?" Hilde muttered in his ear. "You're a real asshole."

Duo laughed.

"I sure am," he agreed.

-----

[1] Stone Brewery is an actual brewery in San Diego, and they’re probably best known for their Arrogant Bastard Ale. If you're a fan of hops, it's probably up your alley.

@gwcocktailfriday

[nanyoky]

QUICKBIRD obviously but also do Wanda/Bucky AND Wanda/Vision please. for me. pretty please with a cherry and chocolate and sprinkles on top.

THIS IS WHY YOU ARE MY FAVORITE

Quickbird:

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter: Hunter!Sam and Werewolf!Pietro (I have a distinct image in my mind of anthony mackie as a wereworlf/vampire hunter in my head? did someone make a gifset at one point? That isn’t a real movie is it?)

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman: Merman!Sam and Fisherman!Pietro

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar: Witch!Sam and Pietro is his cat familiar ala Thackary Binx in hocus pocus omg 

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict: Sam needs his coffee at all hours, Pietro isn’t allowed at the register anymore, so he makes Wanda (better at faking politeness, so she’s always on the register) write flirty notes “From the kitchen” on Sam’s cup.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA: OMG ESSAY I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING. Because they hooked up at the end of last semester and they’d never met but judging on uh- age... Sam sorta figured Pietro was a student at the university where he lectures but it wasn’t a problem cuz he isn’t technically his student and then couple weeks later at the start of the semester he’s assigned a new TA and OH FUCK. And like every day is just “can you stop writing on the board and gesturing so animatedly with your sleeves rolled up all these freshman can def tell I’m daydreaming and staring at your ass all day as is just CHILL” and “can you just NOT come in with sex hair every day and slump back in your seat and have a dumb little smile whenever I lose my thread because you caught my eye and EVERYONE KNOWS STOP THIS I’M GOING TO GET FIRED” and “*both at the same time* AND STOP DOING THAT WITH YOUR PEN THIS ORAL FIXATION IS OUT OF CONTROL” and the poor helpless freshmen like “please stop this we need to pass our government credit”

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss): since winter soldier, we know that Sam “41st floor! 41st!” Wilson is def the type to be all “YOU’RE RESCUING ME WRONG”

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent: i don’t know of any baby falcons, so: Luna never stops talking about her kindergarten teacher and then it’s parent’s day and Pietro’s just really embarrassed he has a crush on the same guy as his six year old.

who’s the writer and who’s the editor: Pietro’s not so much a writer as a translator and they only know each other through snide bitchy email threads like “this passage isn’t actually how people speak” “well it’s what it SAYS in Magyar so deal with it.” “or you could just say this thing that makes more sense” “NEVER.”

Winterwitch:

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter: I’ve already written brief mention of werewolf!Bucky, so THAT. omg hunter!wanda. I need to design that outfit.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman: Mermaid Wanda is fucking deadly omg. Bucky def looks like he’s spent good time on a boat.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar: Easy. Bucky is a wolf.

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict: this is the same au as above and lots of misunderstandings are had when Sam and Bucky come in at the same time and get the wrong drinks- ergo the messages from the wrong twin.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA: Wanda is a community ed. psych teacher and Bucky went directly into the service and never got the college experience so he’s just taking a few night classes and his therapist says getting involved more with students and staff as a community will help him reenter civilian life. But then they just stay up late together grading papers and then there’s wine and then sloppy makeouts on Wanda’s apartment floor and that’s not what his therapist meant but hey whatever works.

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss): Bucky has been locked away and brainwashed in the tower and Wanda has to storm the castle with her magic to free him. I also need magical knight!wanda outfit designs in my life.

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent: Parent!Bucky and Teacher!Wanda

who’s the writer and who’s the editor: Bucky hates his job but this novel came across his desk and it’s dark and weird and fucking unflinchingly PRIMAL without indulging in trauma-porn or glorifying the violence of it and he’s GOT to meet this writer.

Scarletvision (OF COURSE, FOR YOU):

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter: I’m sorry I’m just stuck on hunter!wanda now regardless of who her monster boyfriend is.

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman: Merman!Vision and fisherwoman!Wanda. Possibly same au as the quickbird one.

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar: Easy. Vision is a raven

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict: Wanda and Pietro shuffle into the all hours shop after their bar shifts and no matter what time it is the same guy is on the register? Like what the fuck does he ever sleep? So they’re on a mission to figure out what his deal is.

who’s the professor and who’s the TA: Wanda teaches a language course and she normally refuses to take a TA that’s not a native speaker like her but her colleagues convince her to let Vision have a shot because he works harder than anyone and his aptitude is incredible. ((why am i into these ones so much tonight this is patently NOT MY JAM normally- but for these ships? YES PLEASE.))

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss): Knight!Wanda and Prince!Vision. I feel Prince Vision is very reluctant to follow Lady Wanda out of the tower. His books, you see. He needs time to pack- and are you sure that rope is going to safely carry both our weights on the way down? I haven’t calculated it yet but I believe your armor alone could be enough to cause sufficient strain to-

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent: Parent!Wanda, Teacher!Vision

who’s the writer and who’s the editor: Wanda is ready to move on to a different publishing house due to the higher ups wanting to gut her magnum opus, but Vision is determined to win them over without sacrificing the soul of her work.

That was so fun and I am a SUCKER for dumb aus!!!!