#i was like wow that’s the most insincere apology I’ve ever heard

[zenyye]

[quickspinner]

MLValentines2k20 9. Cupid

Playing catch-up a little bit; I still have one more of these I want to finish before I call it done.

“Jagged,” Luka sighed, hands on his hips as he surveyed the set before him. “You know I usually trust your judgement, but I think your designer’s lost her mind this time.” He’d never met Jagged’s favorite designer, but Jagged had insisted they bring her in for this album cover. Jagged raved about her, but Luka generally tuned him out after the first few sentences. Jagged really only had two modes: total enthusiasm or absolute distaste. Either way, Luka always took his opinions with a grain of salt.

XY had bitched about her, but Luka had ignored that too, inferring from it only that the designer was attractive and that she’d had enough taste to shoot XY down. Luka hadn’t said anything, though. Speaking badly about the boss’s son was frowned upon even for up and coming rock stars. Unless Jagged decided to go independent and took Luka with him, they both had to put up with both Bob Roth and XY for now.

Jagged unknowingly mimicked Luka’s pose, giving away his uncertainty even though his words were confident. “Just...wait. Have a little faith. Let’s hear her out, I’m sure Marinette has a plan.” 

“Her plan better not involve making my album look like a perfume ad, Jagged.” Luka replied, wrinkling his nose. 

“I have asked you repeatedly to call me Dad,” Jagged said absently. 

“This is a disaster!” wailed a voice from the other side of the room. Luka and Jagged both looked that way to see a young lady in a business suit with her hands buried in her blue-black hair as she stared at the same set they’d been staring at. “This isn’t what I requested at all! This will never work, it’ll look like a perfume ad! How did this happen?”

“But Marinette,” said a saccharine voice that made Luka cringe. He couldn’t see the speaker but that voice made his skin crawl. “This is exactly what you asked for. I followed your directions.” The words that followed were smug. “To the letter.” 

“Oh my—” The young woman sighed, taking her hands out of her hair and straightening her back. She unbuttoned the coat of her suit and slipped it off, tossing it over the back of a chair and began unbuttoning and rolling up the sleeves of her blouse. “Right. Okay. This is not happening. Jagged and Luka will be here any minute and we’re going to do this shoot and it’s going to look amazing, and not like it belongs on the front of a Valentine’s card. When I was talking about Cupid, I meant the mythical Cupid, Lila, you know, the hot young guy with the bow, the literal embodiment of love and desire? NOT the chubby little baby cupid that sits on a cloud. You said you understood. Did you even look at the pictures I sent you?”

“But, Marinette, your notes said—” 

“Forget it,” Marinette said briskly, stepping up to the set under the lights. “I don’t have time for your excuses. I have to fix this.” She started ripping out the clouds. “Do we have any paint? Because there is no way we are photographing Luka Couffaine, the hottest rock star in the country right now, on this.” 

Holy hell, she was gorgeous, bold and determined and in charge, her feet planted as she reached up and pulled another piece of cotton batting down. She waved at the baby blue background. “Someone get me some black paint.” 

A hand waved in front of his face and he became aware of Jagged calling his name. He blinked and looked back at Jagged. “That’s your designer?” Luka asked inexplicably breathless.

“Best in the business,” Jagged said proudly. “Come on, wipe the drool off your face and I’ll introduce you.” 

Luka very much wanted to be introduced. He also wanted her phone number and a personal guided tour of the nearest supply closet. 

“Listen,” Jagged said, grabbing his arm and turning him so that the two men were eye to eye. “You watch how you treat her. I can make another son but I will never find another designer with that kind of talent, and if you piss her off I will put you right back on that boat with your mother where I found you, understand?

“Love you too, Dad,” Luka muttered, and Jagged apparently took that for agreement, hauling Luka forwards with him. 

“Marinette!” he called, and Marinette turned, a pretty smile lighting her face.

“Jagged!” Then she caught sight of Luka and her eyes widened slightly, the smile dropping immediately. “Mr. Couffaine!”

“Luka, this is Marinette, the most rock ‘n roll designer you’ll ever meet.” Jagged looped one arm around Marinette’s shoulders. “Tell us what you’ve got planned for us, Mari.” 

“Actually—well, I—” She only fumbled for a moment before she got her bearings back and straightened, stepping out from Jagged’s arm to turn to Luka with a professional air that didn’t make her one bit less attractive. Luka blinked at the not-quite-fake smile she gave him, absently noting the light smattering of freckles across her nose. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Couffaine, it seems there was a bit of a, er...misunderstanding and the set up is all wrong. I apologize for taking up your time but I’ll have this fixed as quickly as possible. In the meantime, is there anything we could get you while you wait? Would you maybe like a snack?” 

Jagged stepped on his foot before he could answer. It didn’t do much thanks to Luka’s heavy boots but it did remind him of Jagged’s threat. Not that that was necessary. Jagged was the one renowned for losing his shit in public, not Luka. No matter how much he really did want this particular snack, no one would know. Besides, he wasn’t XY. The woman was here to do a job, not entertain Luka’s fantasies, and he needed to get his mind off her very pretty mouth and back on the job.

Before he could come up with a professionally appropriate answer, though, another girl popped up at Marinette’s elbow. “Mr. Couffaine, if you’d like to come with me I’d be happy to make sure we find you something satisfying while Ms. Dupain-Cheng fixes her mistake.”

Luka recoiled slightly; this was the saccharine voice he’d heard before and it was even less pleasant up close. “No, thank you,” he said automatically, barely even glancing at her. “I’m fine.” He looked back at Marinette. “It’s fine, I don’t mind waiting. Honestly I’m relieved, I was a little worried when I saw the set.”

“Of course you would be,” the other girl said sympathetically, and Luka, who hadn’t moved his eyes from Marinette, saw the designer visibly grind her teeth.

Still, her tone was entirely professional as she said, “Lila, please go get us the black couch from the casting room, the one with the silver studs. I’m sure with your persuasive talents you can find some help to get it here.”

“Of course, Mar—Ms. Dupain-Cheng,” Lila said, and Luka doesn’t even have to look at her to know that her bright, helpful tone was completely insincere. She brushed past him, her fingers lingering on his wrist for a moment. He twitched it away without a glance in her direction.

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t need anything, Mr. Couffaine,” Marinette said, turning back to Luka. “Then if you and Jagged wouldn’t mind waiting, I hope I’ll have this cleared up shortly.”

“I have no doubt,” Luka replied, with a slow grin. “And please call me Luka, I hate being Mr. Couffaine.” 

“Of course,” Marinette smiled. “Feel free to call me Marinette. Jagged certainly does.” She made a cheeky face at his father, and Luka missed what Jagged said in response because Marinette laughed, and it was a beautiful sound and that was a real smile on her face and...wow, those eyes. 

His heart was suddenly pounding. Those eyes were familiar. Did...did he know her? He watched her, fascinated for a different reason, as she went over to take the can of paint from the assistant who’d brought it. She went with purpose to the backdrop, standing back for a moment as if to consider. Then she took a wide brush and began painting across the blue background in broad strokes that she left ragged at the edges. 

“I can change the color in post,” she mumbled. “Psyche’s lamp would be shining from...here, so this area stays light.” 

Jagged, easily bored as always, excused himself, leaving Luka there alone as Marinette made quick work of the backdrop. When she was done the smell of paint hung thick in the air but the scene was much better. A few more changes and the perfume ad look was replaced by a much grittier but still fantastical scene. The fluffy carpet was gone from the floor, revealing a hardwood platform. Marinette had taken some of the prop arrows and broken them in half (and watching her snap them like so many twigs had set his blood rushing again). Then she turned to Luka with a wide, much more sincere smile than she’d had before. “All right, I think we’re ready for our Cupid.” 

Oh...right. That was him. Luka sighed, but unbuttoned his shirt and took it off as he’d been instructed and removed his heavy boots, leaving him in his ripped jeans embellished with chains. He’d been through hair and makeup before they came. 

“We’ll start with you on the floor,” Marinette directed. “If Lila actually manages to get us the couch,” her tone seemed to indicate she thought it unlikely, “We can try that later and see what we like best. Vincent, can you show him where please?”

Luka followed the photographer’s directions and waited while they adjusted the lights. “I should warn you,” Luka said, glancing up at Marinette with a hint of trepidation. “I’m not a model or an actor. I’m not actually good at this part.” 

“I’ve seen you perform,” Marinette smiled reassuringly, and why were those eyes so familiar? “I’m not worried. If you can evoke that much emotion on stage I’m sure we can pull some of it out here.” 

Genuinely flattered, Luka smiled up at her. Marinette patted his bare shoulder. “It’s just another kind of performance,” she told him, and then she seemed to grow flustered, snatching her hand back. Luka couldn’t help a smirk. Marinette turned away, cheeks pink. 

Then it was business as usual, trying different poses while trying not to look bored out of his mind. Watching Marinette skitter about was entertaining, at least, but he couldn’t follow her constantly.

“He is so stiff,” Vincent complained, straightening and putting a hand on his hip. “Marinetta, can you not inspire the boy a little more?” Luka winced and sighed. Well, he warned her.

“Let’s take a break,” Marinette said, looking completely unbothered by this turn of events.

Luka sighed, sitting up and propping his elbows on his knees as she approached. “Told you,” he shrugged. Marinette knelt on the floor next to him and pulled out her phone. “Cupid brings love to everyone,” she told him, “but he never finds love himself until he meets Psyche. But he won’t let her see his true self until she comes into his room with a lamp while he’s sleeping. That’s what we’re going for with this shoot.” 

“Right,” Luka answered automatically. This had all been explained in the pitch, though he hadn’t paid all that much attention at the time. He actually didn’t get a whole lot of say in his album covers.

“Obviously we’re taking some liberties here,” Marinette continued. “Instead of being passive and asleep, you, as our Cupid, are finally ready to show your lover your true self, so you’re waiting for her to come in so you can really let her see you, and in doing so, allow yourself fall for her.”

His own music began to play from the speakers on her phone. She turned the volume all the way up, frowning in concentration. “There,” she said, looking up from the phone to meet his eyes. “The way you play the bridge, that’s what we’re looking for. That’s what inspired the shoot.”

Luka pursed his lips. The song was all about being ready to find love again after heartbreak, and the bridge was about that moment when you lock eyes with someone and choose to either look away or let yourself fall. It actually fit very well with the story Marinette had told him. He nodded slowly. “Play it again please.” 

Marinette complied, and Luka closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself sink into the music. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Marinette. Her lips parted in something like surprise, but she didn’t turn her gaze from him as she nodded slowly. “Yes. That’s it. Can you do that for the photos?”

“Can I look at you?” Luka asked. “It’s kind of hard just...staring into the lights.” 

Marinette’s cheeks pinked, but she nodded. “Okay. I’ll get Vincent to tell me where he wants you to look, and I’ll stand there. Don’t worry about the camera, just listen to the music and keep your eyes on me, okay? Vincent will do the rest.”

He felt the corner of his mouth tug into a smile, and had to take a breath to compose himself. “Yeah, okay.” Marinette smiled at him and again he was hit with that wave of familiarity. Luka tilted his head slightly. “Have we met before?” he asked. “You just...you look familiar.”

Marinette’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she looked mildly embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.” 

“So we have met?” Luka asked, a little too eagerly. “It’s just—I swear I remember your eyes.”

Marinette blushed again, maybe even a little darker than before. “I went to school with Juleka. We, um, met on your mother’s boat once the year you left with Jagged. The music festival? You played with Juleka’s band and...I was there.”

Luka’s brow creased as he thought back to that day. “Ma-ma-marinette,” he whispered, a broad smile spreading across his face. 

Marinette made a face. “Oh good, you do remember.” 

Oh, he remembered. He absolutely remembered her now, as a skinny little kid with those beautiful eyes huge in her face as she babbled that they were ready for him to rehearse. She’d been so cute then, and he’d chatted her up a bit between the rehearsal and the concert, but then Jagged had come to the boat and everything had come out, and his whole life had been turned upside down, and he hadn’t seen her again. “Wow,” he breathed. “You’ve come a long way.”   

“So have you,” Marinette pointed out, giving him a hint of that cheeky smile she had turned on Jagged. “You’re a big rock star now.” 

“Oh, well I...yeah,” Luka slumped his shoulders a little bit, feeling his own face heat a little. “It’s been...well it’s been a trip, that’s for sure.” 

Marinette smiled. “You’re doing great. Are you ready to try again?” 

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Luka said, relaxing back into the reclining pose he’d been in. “Ready when you are.” 

“Okay.” She got up. “Hey Vincent?” 

Luka watched her, still marvelling that this confident little dynamo was the stuttering, blushing girl he’d met way back then. 

Well. She still blushed, he thought to himself with a smirk. 

“All right, we’re ready, Luka,” Marinette called, walking to a point off to his left. “Just like we talked about.” She played the song again, and Luka closed his eyes, getting into the music. Then he lifted his head and looked at Marinette, and she smiled. “Go, Vincent,” she said. “Just keep your eyes on me, Luka.”

Not a problem at all. The rest of the photo shoot was easier. Occasionally Marinette moved, directing Luka’s gaze to a different spot, while Vincent clicked away. Luka had long since stopped listening to the music she played. For one thing, he had a new song taking shape in his head...and for another, it was getting increasingly easier to look at Marinette like she was the girl of his dreams. 

Marinette was thrilled with the outcome of the photo shoot as she stood over Vincent’s shoulder, watching him click through the proofs. She knew immediately which series she would be using. The pose where Luka was half-reclined, looking off camera with an enraptured, expectant expression. He held one of the broken arrows in his hand, the point against his heart, ready to stab himself with his own arrow if it meant finding love again. She’d add wings made of light in post that would look electric against the dark background. She would darken the pale sky blue on the outside of the dark area she had painted to something that harmonized with Luka’s dyed hair, and then she would add a light source here for Psyche’s lamp…

It would be perfect. Not exactly like her sketch thanks to Lila’s sabotage, but just as good, if not better. She nodded in satisfaction, and went to tell Luka they had what they needed. 

He was hovering nearby, his shirt back on but only half buttoned. 

“You did great,” she told him, smiling. “I think we got everything we need. I’ll have the proofs in by the end of the week, but as long as you’re satisfied then I can say it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” 

“Thanks,” Luka said, ruffling his hair as she was sure he’d been itching to do since the whole thing started. Most of it fell right back into place, stiff with product. He raised his eyebrows slightly. “So do you actually work for me, or…” 

“I work for Jagged most of the time,” Marinette replied, already checking her schedule on her phone for the next thing she had to do. “I suppose you could say I’m on retainer with him in a way. I work directly for him on his personal looks and concert gear when he needs me, and the rest of the time I run my own business. I’m not affiliated with the label unless Jagged brings me in for a project like this as an independent consultant.” She gestured vaguely, indicating the shoot. “So today, technically I work for Bob Roth,” both of them made a face, “But Jagged calls the shots.” 

Luka nodded slowly, and then ducked his head a bit, hunching his shoulders so he didn’t tower quite so far over her. “Well then. First let me say that Jagged said he’d kick me off the tour if I upset you.” Marinette gasped and Luka chuckled. “He told me that he could make another son but he’d never find another designer like you, and having met you now I completely agree with him.” Marinette sputtered, having no idea how to respond to that, and to her embarrassment Luka chuckled through his nose at her. “Okay now I really believe you’re that Ma-ma-marinette.” Marinette pouted, folding her arms as Luka continued. “I’m just telling you this because I want to make sure you know there’s no pressure on you for what I’m about to ask, and if you say no I won’t breathe a word about it ever again. Okay?”

Marinette blinked. “Okay.”

“So...with that said, I’d really like to take you out sometime. Would you go on a date with me, Marinette?” Luka grinned, and it wasn’t at all like the rock star smirk he wore for his fans. It was sweet and hopeful and more like the boy from the boat than anything Marinette had seen since that day so long ago, when he’d teased her gently and played music just for her. She’d never forgotten that day and his kindness and she’d been happy to see him doing so well as he followed his dreams. 

Marinette found herself smiling back at him. “I’d um...I’d be open to that, if Jagged’s okay with it. You might not be my boss but you’re still the boss’s son, and…” She shrugged helplessly.

“I get it,” Luka smiled. “You’re a professional, I know that.” He raised his chin slightly to look over her head. “Hey, Dad!” he called. Marinette’s eyes widened and she turned around to see Jagged poking his head back into the studio. “Can I date Marinette?” 

“Oh God,” Marinette whispered, anticipating Jagged’s reaction. 

“Just wait until we announce our engagement,” Luka chuckled as Jagged’s whoop carried across the studio, the man himself barreling towards them. 

Marinette looked back at him in surprise. “You’re sure of yourself.” 

Luka’s grin only widened. “I’m sure about you. Pick you up at eight tomorrow?”

Marinette managed a weak “O-okay,” and then Jagged was on them, and nobody else got a word in edgewise for quite some time.

[iamtrebleclefstories]

help, ‘cause I need saving - part one

six times Jo and Alex saved each other from horrible dates and the one time they didn’t 

a two-shot fic taking place in a Season 9 alternate universe

One

“Yeah, you know I just really think it’s weird for a woman to be a surgeon. I don’t know, it just doesn’t sit right with me. I feel like your skills would be of better use in…”

Jo drowned out the voice of the man sitting across from her, willing herself to not give an outburst as a result of her date’s misogynistic comments. She should’ve known that he would be a sexist asshole the moment she heard his name. No self-respecting guy goes by Trent. But no, William Trenton III, insisted on being called Trent because Billy was his grandpa and Will was his father. 

She wanted to bang her head against the table and throw a tortilla chip in Trent’s eyeball. Her patience was quickly fading and Jo was struggling to think of a good enough reason to bail on this guy that Stephanie had set her up with. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Alex Karev walked into the bar. Despite what she’d originally told him about she’d never sleep with him, Jo couldn’t deny that she was extremely attracted to him. It honestly wouldn’t take much from his part to get into her pants. Especially since she’d started spending more time on his service, learning from him and growing as a surgeon. They weren’t exactly friends, but ever since she had shared her tragic backstory with him, there was a sort of kinship between the two doctors. 

Hoping he would catch on to the hints she was dropping, Jo looked over at her superior with a desperate expression on her face. Locking eyes with her, Alex tilted his head in question at the intern. Jo motioned to her date with her head and mouthed the words “help me” as discreetly as she could. Alex raised an eyebrow and his lips twisted up into a smirk as he realized the situation. 

Schooling his expression, Alex walked over to the table with a serious look on his face, “Wilson!”

“Dr. Karev,” Jo feigned surprise. “Is something wrong?”

“Hate to break up your date, but we’re being paged for a trauma. Let’s go,” Alex pointed towards the door. “Now.”

Jo scurried up from the table, grabbed her purse, and mumbled an insincere apology to Trent as she exited the booth and followed Alex out the door. Once they were outside, Jo let out a sigh of relief, “Oh God, thank you so much. I thought my brain was going to melt if I kept talking to him for one more second.”

“That bad huh?” Alex chuckled. “You looked pretty miserable there.”

“It was horrible,” Jo leaned against the outside brick wall. “He kept talking about how the OR was no place for a woman and that my skills would be of better use in the kitchen when I told him that I’m a surgeon. He was a sexist asshole that I hope never has any children because his daughters will grow up oppressed and his sons will grow up to be oppressors.”

Alex nodded, an amused expression on his face, “So, it was worse than bad. Got it.” He leaned against the wall next to her. “Well, I’m glad you got out of that horrible date, but now you owe me a drink.”

“What?” Jo raised her eyebrows. 

“I was going on there to get a drink to wind down after a long day but instead I had to fake a page to get you out of there. I can’t exactly pop back in. So, now you owe me a drink to make up for the one I gave up to help you,” Alex stated, hands in his pockets.

“That’s fair,” Jo conceded. “Well, I know this place near my apartment that does buy two, get one half off beers. It’s not as nice as Joe’s but it’ll do the trick for one night.”

“Lead the way Wilson.”

+++

Two

He wasn't quite sure how he got here. But after friending an old high school classmate on Facebook, Alex found himself on probably one of the worst dates he'd ever been on with Britney Bowers from his high school English class. He was glad that he told her to meet him at Joe's so that he could fake a patient emergency and never call Britney back again.

“I think it’s just so important to eat healthy and live a clean lifestyle. People are so focused on all the illnesses there are nowadays but they refuse to see all the wonderful things that nature has to offer us. I guarantee you that none of that modern medicine stuff is necessary if people just ate the right foods. You see it all comes down to your gut. That’s the root of all the diseases. If we eat healthy then we don’t get sick and there’s no need for medication or vaccines or the healthcare field,” Britney’s ignorance seeped through as she voiced her opinion in conversation. “It’s such a scam, all of it. It’s just Big Pharma that wants your money and everyone is in on it. Why do you think doctors make such good money? I bet half the time they treat you, there’s nothing wrong with you or there’s something that can be remedied naturally that they’re refusing to acknowledge because it takes away from drug companies that stuff money in their pockets.”

“You do know I’m a surgeon, right?” Alex stared at her incredulously. 

Britney laughed awkwardly, "Oh, I'm not talking about you. I'm sure you aren't trying to scam people for their money. I'm just… you must know a lot of people who do."

"Nope, I don't," Alex shook his head. "Most of the people I work with are just trying to save your life, not take your money. We aren't the ones in charge of billing." 

"Huh," Britney stared at him dumbly. 

Much to his luck, Jo had been sitting at the bar witnessing the travesty and found it in herself to be merciful. She walked up to the table with her best innocent expression and spoke, "Dr. Karev, I'm so sorry, you told me not to bother you tonight, but I was monitoring Lily Phillips vitals and I noticed that her SATs started dropping again. I know her parents were hoping not to have to operate again, but I think you should come in and see if there's something more serious going on."

Alex’s eyebrows shot up when he saw who had come to his rescue. Realizing that this was his out, Alex stood up, “Crap. Yeah, lets go.” He turned to face Britney. “Listen, it was great catching up, but I’ve got to go.” 

“Oh, no worries, I get that you’re busy,” Britney flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. “You can always call me and we can continue this another day.” 

“Sure,” Alex smiled awkwardly, trying not to glare when he heard Jo’s quiet snort. “Goodbye.” 

As soon as they were outside, Jo burst into laughter, “Wow, that was hard to watch. ‘There’s no need for medicines or vaccines or the healthcare field.’ Please, if it weren’t for modern medicine, natural selection would have weeded her out a long time ago.”

Alex laughed along with Jo, “You’re not wrong.” 

“How did you even meet her?” Jo asked as they walked over to their cars. 

“We went to high school together,” Alex huffed in annoyance. “She found me on Facebook and sent me a message. I answered like an idiot. She said that she moved here a couple months ago and was surprised to see that I was living here too. She asked if we could meet up and since I didn’t want to be a complete jerk, I said yes. I also kind of had a thing for her back in the day, so I guess I wanted to see what she was like after all these years. Not making that mistake again.” 

“Yikes,” Jo grimaced. “Well, on the bright side, now you know that you wouldn’t have worked anyway, being that she believes we’re in cahoots with Big Pharma.” 

“You’re right,” Alex chuckled. He looked over at Jo gratefully. Ever since Bailey’s wedding when they fake cried their way into a stranger’s hotel room two weeks ago, they became fast friends. Honestly, Jo was probably one of the people he trusted most in the world. Not to mention she was really hot, which was clouding Alex’s head with all kinds of confusing things, especially when his friends were hell-bent on insisting that he and Jo were more than friends. All he knew was that he enjoyed her company and found himself wanting to spend more time with her. “What do you say we go get some pizza and beers and eat them at my place?”

“Sounds great to me.” 

+++

Three

“So… I’m going on a date tonight.”

Alex raised his eyebrows as he looked over to Jo who’d come up next to him by the fourth floor nurses station, “Okay… and?”

“And, I need you to be on-call in case I need to get out of there,” Jo rested her chin in her hands. 

“You want me to sit by my phone all night waiting for you to call me just in case your date goes bad?” Alex made a face. “If you’re so worried, why are you going out with this guy anyway?”

“Because my drunk ass may have agreed to go on a date with him after you left me alone at Joe’s last night,” Jo narrowed her eyes. “This is why you can’t leave me alone while I’m drunk. I can’t be trusted. I make stupid decisions while drunk.”

“It wasn’t like I wanted to leave. I got paged,” Alex rolled his eyes.

“Ah, yes. I’m sure you tell all the girls that,” Jo grinned sarcastically. 

“Shut up,” Alex sighed and placed the chart down on the counter. “Where’s your date and what time is it at?”

“It’s at the movie theater ten minutes away from here,” Jo answered. “I haven’t been on a movie date since I was sixteen. That’s how I know that it’s going to be interesting…”

“Fine. I’ll be at Joe’s with my ringer on and a bottle of beer, trying to think of a creative way to bail you out,” Alex crossed his arms. “But if an hour goes by and you still haven’t called me, I’m going to assume it’s not horrible and I’ll worry about myself. Maybe I’ll pick up some chick and get laid.”

“You’re the best! I’ll text you later,” Jo smiled brightly as walked away to finish her shift. 

Sure enough, later that evening, Alex snorted when his phone lit up with a message from Jo. 

J: Save me please 

A: Dude, you haven’t even been there for 20 minutes

J: I know but I need to get out of here ASAP. He’s creepy and I feel uncomfortable.

   His name is Brock. BROCK! 

A: Don’t panic 

    I’m coming.

    What do you want me to do? Interrupt the theater?

J: Yes. I don’t know… just help me. And the movie hasn’t started yet. We’re just watching the previews. 

A: I’ll be there in ten minutes 

    I’m going to call and text you fifteen times now

    Don’t answer, it’s part of my plan

Ten minutes later, Alex was standing in front of the ticket booth bargaining with one of the workers. 

“Listen man, I don’t need to sneak into a movie. I’m a surgeon. I’ve got the twelve dollars you need to get in, but I’m telling you, this is an emergency.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I cannot let you in there. Especially now that the movie is about to start any second,” the young ticketmaster said. 

“Dude, you’re not getting it. I’m not asking to go in there. I’m asking you to get someone to interrupt the theater before the movie starts and get her,” Alex huffed. “Her phone is on silent, so she probably hasn’t realized that she had about twenty missed calls. Her brother was just in a car accident and might not live to see tomorrow. I think you can make an exception just this once.”

The teenager looked back and forth between Alex and the theater and sighed, “Fine. What’s her name again?” 

Back in the screening room, Jo was bouncing her leg anxiously as the lights began to dim, signaling the start of the film. She looked at Brock warily as he attempted to rest his hand on her thigh. She brushed it away and chewed on her lip, hoping that whatever plan Alex had in place would begin soon, so that she would have to be stuck watching the movie with this creep. 

Suddenly, the lights brightened again, and she watched as one of the teenaged workers walked into the front of the theater. 

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, but I’m looking for a Josephine Wilson.”

The moviegoers grumbled at the interruption, but Jo shot up in her seat, “Yes. That’s me!” 

The worker walked up the steps to her level and spoke, “I’m so sorry, ma’am. But your friend Alex is outside. He says he’s been trying to contact you and you haven’t answered.”

“We’re on a date, of course she hasn’t answered the damn phone,” Brock sneered. “What the hell could be more important than this?”

The teenager looked down apologetically, “He said that he’s called you about twenty times. It’s an emergency.”

Finally catching on to Alex’s plan, Jo suppressed a laugh. She looked down at her phone and indeed saw all the missed calls that he’d warned her not to answer, “Oh my God. It says he called me nineteen times. What happened?”

“Ma’am, your brother has been in an accident,” the worker—Vinny, as described by his name tag—gave her a sympathetic look. “I was told it was really bad.”

“Oh God,” Jo pressed a hand to her mouth and got to work on her fake tears. “Is… is he alive?”

“I’m not sure,” Vinny shook his head. “But I think you should come outside and head over the hospital with your friend. 

“Yes, yes of course,” Jo nodded as a couple tears made their way down her face. 

“I’ll go with you,” Brock stood up from his seat. 

“No!” Jo said, almost too quickly. Shaking her head, she held a hand up. “No. It’s alright. Stay here. Enjoy the movie. We can always go out another day.”

“Okay…” Brock sat back down and watched as Jo walked out of the theater, not realizing that he had no way of contacting her until it was too late. 

When Jo exited, she kept up her façade and ran straight into Alex’s arms, fake tears staining his shirt. He rubbed her back soothingly, “Hey. It’s okay. We’re gonna go see him now.” Alex looked back at the kid. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem,” Vinny waved his hand. “I hope everything works out with your brother, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Jo sniffed and wiped a couple tears. She looked up at Alex. “Can we go?”

“Yeah,” Alex led her out of Vinny’s view and into the parking lot. 

As soon as they entered the car, Jo and Alex both burst into laughter. Jo held her stomach as she laughed, “When I said yes to interrupting the theater, I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Jo wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “My brother was in a horrible accident? Do you know how hard it was not to laugh at that? I don’t have a brother.”

“It was the first thing I could come up with,” Alex took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm his laughs. “You were great in there, though. The crying was very convincing.”

“Thanks,” Jo giggled. “You know he tried to come with me? Brock.”

“That right there—his name—should’ve been a red flag from the get go,” Alex chuckled. “You were right though, fake crying gets you out of everything.”

“Stick with me and maybe I’ll teach you some other tricks,” Jo grinned.

They stared at each other with mirth in their eyes for a few moments. There was no denying that there was something brewing between the two of them. As much as they tried to ignore it, there was this connection that neither of them could quite explain. It was comforting but electric at the same time. But neither of them were bold enough to take it any further. 

“What do you say we get some fried chicken and eat it in the car like we were raised to do?” Alex suggested. 

“I’d say… I think I love you,” Jo joked. “In all seriousness though, let’s get out of here before Brock comes looking for me.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

+++

Four

“So you know how helping each other get out of dates now is our thing?” Alex said as he fell into step with Jo as she exited the intern locker room. 

“Is it now?” Jo raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Didn’t know that.”

“Oh come on. I’ve helped out get out of two really bad dates already, and I expect you to return the favor,” Alex gave her a sideways glance. 

“Mhmm,” Jo hummed. “What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time, Karev?”

“I haven’t gotten myself into anything yet,” Alex placed his hands on his hips. “I’ve got a date tonight with this blonde chick named Tiffany. I met her last night while I was out grocery shopping. She seems pretty nice, normal, but then again, I met her in the frozen food section so who knows what she’s like. Anyway, I was hoping you’d be available to get me out of it in case things go horribly.”

“I’d love to, but it all depends on what time I get out of here tonight,” Jo sighed. “I’m on Medusa’s—I’m sorry, I mean Dr. Grey’s service today.”

“No you’re not,” Alex shook his head. “I switched with her.”

“What? Why?” Jo scrunched her eyebrows as they approached the elevator. “Is this because you want me available to bail you out?”

“No. Well… yes, but it’s not the only reason,” Alex pressed the elevator button. “Murphy was on my service and I know it’s been months but she still gives me those creepy, weird looks and I don’t feel like dealing with her today.”

Jo snorted in laughter, “You are such a douche.”

“Whatever. She knew what she was getting into when she slept with me,” Alex shrugged. “So, if I let you out when I leave, will you hang around in case I need you.”

“I guess,” Jo faked annoyance.

“Great, thanks.”

By the time the date rolled around, Alex had been pretty optimistic. Sure, Tiffany wasn’t the girl he wanted to go out with, but since he couldn’t date the one person he wanted to date, Alex was doing his best to try to find someone he could make it last with. So far, he wasn’t having the best luck.

It started out normal, great even. So great that for a while there, Alex thought about texting Jo and letting her know that maybe he wouldn’t need her tonight. He discovered that he was very wrong rather quickly. 

Tiffany was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. But she was too clingy. To the point that it was actually scaring him. He was sure if this went any further and they broke up, he’d have an ex who wouldn’t take no for an answer—or worse, a stalker on his hands. 

Sending a quick text message to Jo under the table, he waited for a reply. 

A: Definitely going to need your help tonight

J: what happened?

A: She’s too clingy. Bad clingy. Creepy clingy. 

    Take a lock of my hair and clone me later clingy. 

J: Yikes. Where are you again?

A: The club across the street from that diner we like to eat at. 

    I should’ve known it would be bad when she suggested going to a club on the first date 

J: You think?

    I’ll be there in fifteen

A: Please hurry 

True to her word, fifteen minutes later, Alex watched as Jo entered the club and took a seat at the bar. He spent about five minutes looking back and forth between Tiffany and Jo, who’d taken to flirting with a couple guys that had come up to her in the short time since she’d arrived. Bouncing his leg impatiently, Alex sent another angry text to Jo. 

A: What the hell are you doing?

    You’re supposed to be helping me, remember? Not trying to get laid.

“Is everything okay?” Tiffany asked. “It’s just, you keep looking at your phone.”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Alex rubbed a hand on his neck awkwardly. 

In that moment, Alex heard a gasp from his right side. Jo had materialized and wore an angry expression, “You!”

“Me?” Alex pointed to himself, confused as to what her play was. 

“Oh my God. You don’t even remember me,” Jo clutched her drink in her hand. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re a hump ‘em and dump ‘em kind of guy.” 

“What did I do?” Alex widened his eyes as he waited for Jo’s cue. 

“What did you do? What did you do!” Jo’s eyes hesitated for a split second before she threw her drink in his face. “Thanks for the syphilis, you ASSHOLE!” She turned to face Tiffany before walking off. “Don’t waste your time!”

Sitting there in shock, Alex watched as Tiffany rose from the couch they'd been sitting on to look at Alex with a face of disgust, “And to think, I had picked out our kids names.” 

Once Tiffany grabbed her face and exited the club, Jo came back with a semi-apologetic, but mostly amused face, “I’m so sorry about your shirt, but that was awesome! I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re having the time of your life right now,” Alex glared.

“Hey, you told me to get rid of her and that’s what I did,” Jo defended, a shit-eating grin on her face. “Come on, I have one of your old t-shirts in my car.”

“Why do you have one of my t-shirts in your car?” Alex scrunched his face in question. The thought of her having one of his shirts in her car did things to his brain that he wasn’t even sure how to vocalize. 

“It’s from the last time I crashed at your place on the nice, comfy couch I bought you,” Jo smiled. 

“Yeah, with my money.”

“Semantics,” Jo waved her hand. “Anyway, let’s get out of this hell hole and go to watch movies at your house.”

Alex rolled his eyes at her antics, “Fine.”

+++

Five 

Alex should’ve said no the moment April Kepner offered to set him up on a date. Knowing Kepner, he should’ve known what kind of thing he’d be getting himself into. But when she came up to him with a request from a former patient’s daughter who thought he was attractive, he found himself having trouble saying no and ended up agreeing to the date.

That’s how he ended up spending the past 20 minutes staring across the table at a woman who might as well have been the carbon copy of Izzie Stevens. 

He’d truly tried to give the woman a chance and not associate her with his ex-wife, but the longer they spoke, the more freaked out he was getting by the whole situation. Especially when she started talking about her love of baking.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom real fast,” Alex started to stand from his seat.

“Oh yeah, no worries,” the woman waved her hand. 

The moment he stepped foot into the bathroom, Alex searched for his cellphone in his pocket and dialed the one number he needed to get him out of this situation. It rang four times before a voice came through the speakers.

“Hello?”

“Dude, I need you to get me out of here right now,” Alex whispered into the phone. “I’m at the bar and grill 20 minutes away. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t stand this for another minute.”

“What’s wrong with this one?” Jo chuckled on the other line. 

“She looks like my ex-wife,” Alex hissed into the phone. “She’s got strawberry blonde hair but they have the same face. Their brown eyes are the same. Sure her tits are smaller than Izzie 's were, but they even have the same creepy, overly perky laugh. And her name is Katherine. That was Izzie’s middle name. But she insists on me calling her Kitty Kat.” 

Jo snorted into the phone, “Gosh, you really know how to pick them. What do you want me to do? How are we going to play this?” 

"First of all, I didn't pick her," Alex paused. "Kepner set me up."

"Mistake number one right there," Jo giggled in amusement. "Okay, again, how do you want to play this?"

“I don’t know,” Alex shrugged helplessly. “Pretend you’re my girlfriend and come in here kicking and screaming at me because I’m a cheating asshole or something.” 

“Wow, you’re really desperate this time aren’t you. Aren’t you traumatized from what I did last time?” Jo laughed at his expense. “Okay, I’m changing out of my scrubs right now. Give me half an hour. I’ll figure out a story on my way there.”

“Thank you,” Alex sighed in relief. 

He made his way back to the table giving Kathrine an awkward smile as she continued to yap on and on about some cooking show she’d almost been a contestant on. He was about ready to gouge his eyes out with his fork when he saw Jo walk towards the outdoor area where he and Katherine were sitting with an oddly shaped bundle in her hands. 

“What the hell Alex? Tell me why I just got off the phone with your mother only to find out that you were supposedly at dinner with me, when you told me you were working late,” Jo exclaimed, causing the bundle in her arms to let out a cry. 

Alex stared at her in shock, wondering where the hell she had gotten a baby from. He hoped the very real confusion on his face would come across as shock to Katherine, who was sitting there, jaw dropped and eyes wide, watching the scene unfold. Alex opened his mouth, "Jo—"

"Don't, Alex. Just don't," Jo held up one hand as she rocked the now screaming baby. "I know things have been difficult since the baby was born, but I really expected more than this. I don't know when you stopped loving me, but I expected more respect as the mother of your child. I thought you'd have the decency to at least tell me the truth! Instead of lying to me and your mother, about where you were and who you were with."

Alex looked back and forth between Jo and Kathrine, unsure of what to say. Jo was really selling it this time and he did not want to throw her off by saying the wrong thing, "Jo, I—"

"Shut up, Alex. Just shut up and hold your son," Jo shoved the crying baby into his hands only to scoff when the child stopped crying immediately after landing in Alex's arms. "Of course! Of course he calms down as soon as you hold him. I'm done!" Jo threw her hands up in the air and turned on her feet back towards the car. 

Alex cradled the child close to his chest and looked up at Katherine, “I should go…" 

Much like Izzie used to do, Katherine turned up her nose indignantly, "Yes, and I think it's best if we never see each other again."

"Yup," Alex nodded sheepishly as he made his way out of the outdoor seating area and to Jo's car.

Rocking the small infant in one arm, Alex opened the car door with his free hand and sat inside the passenger seat, staring at Jo who smiled at him. 

“How was that for a rescue?” 

“Where the hell did you get this baby from?” Alex scrunched his face in question. “Please don’t tell me you stole some stranger’s baby.”

“I didn’t steal the baby,” Jo shook her head, a smile playing at her lips. She bent over to stroke the baby’s head. “I signed up to be one of the people that picks up the safe haven babies after they’re dropped off at the fire stations. I got the call about this little guy two minutes before you called me to get you out of your date. I picked him up and came to get you. Which honestly, I would’ve interrupted your date regardless because I wanted you to be the one to give him a check up. I’m supposed to head to the hospital with him now.”

Alex watched as Jo became entranced with the little boy currently resting in his arms. She was a natural when it came to kids, and it showed now as she fussed over a whole bunch of details he hadn’t thought of himself. He opened his mouth in confusion, “Wait, so you used a kid abandoned by his mother at a fire station to play our fake son and get me out of my date with my ex-wife’s doppelganger?”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” Jo took the infant from his hands and looked at him lovingly. “Come here you little guy. I know it must be scary to be away from your mommy, but I have to believe she did this because she thought she was giving you your best chance. She might not have been able to give you a home, but I will make sure that you end up in a very nice home, with some very nice people, who can give you all the love you deserve.” 

Seeing this side of Jo was incredibly sweet. She was so tender with the child resting in her arms, cuddling him so that he’d never know that he’d been abandoned; so that he would be surrounded with love. Alex knew instantly she would be an amazing mother one day. What scared him though, was that he’d begun picturing himself in that position with her. 

Jo sighed dreamily, “Okay. We’ve got to take him to the hospital for a check up and contact a social worker. If we don’t do it now, I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with him and take him home with me.” 

A crooked smile pulled at the corner of Alex’s lips, “Here, I’ll get him into the car seat and sit in the back with him. You drive.”

+++

Six

“That’s going to be fun. I’m especially excited for that kid’s next eighteen years.” 

They had just finished monitoring a newborn with the most difficult set of parents Alex had ever gotten a chance to work with. When he and Jo were paged down to OB for the case that morning, he never would’ve guessed that the parents would end up being coworkers who hated each other, hooked-up once, and ended up with a baby. But hey, not much surprised him these days. Still, the success of the little boy making it past the benchmark was a special moment for the two parents, who despite their differences were able to come together to make a decision in favor of their child's health. 

The situation inspired a conversation between Jo and Alex regarding workplace relationships. If Alex was being honest, he was a bit biased when it came to his answers. Ever since Jo had all but dragged him into that linen closet to celebrate their win against Cahill with powdered sugar donuts last night, he could not get her out of his mind. Working with her today made him realize just how much he enjoyed her company. They'd grown so close in the last couple months and if he let himself, he could see them potentially becoming more.

Deciding to take initiative, Alex turned towards Jo, “Hey, do you want to go get a beer?”

“Oh, I would love to. Especially after today, but I actually already have plans," Jo waved over to a guy standing in the hallway wearing pink scrubs. "Tomorrow night? Is that cool?”

“Yeah… yeah that’s cool,” Alex looked at the guy suspiciously. "So, you have a date tonight? With someone from OB?"

"Yeah," Jo smiled nervously. "I've been wanting to ask him out for a while now, but, well you know my luck when it comes to dating. Anyway, I finally got the balls to do it today. We’re just going to Joe’s."

“Huh,” Alex nodded. For the first time, Alex felt strange knowing that she would be going out on a date with someone else.  “Well, if you need help getting out of it, I’ll probably be hanging around the bar too.” 

“You know, I don’t think I’ll need you this time. I feel really good about this one,” Jo beamed. She looked over at the doctor in pink scrubs before turning back to Alex. “Jason is waiting for me. I’m going to go change for my date. I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah, see you later,” Alex waved lamely at her. 

He seriously considered forgoing a drink at Joe’s altogether. He didn’t want to see the girl he was falling for having fun on a date with some guy that wore pink scrubs to work on a daily basis. But another side of him wanted to keep an eye on Jo and make sure she was okay. He wanted to be around in case something happened or that Jason guy tried to pull something fishy. 

When Jo first saw Jason, she was immediately attracted to him. Who wouldn’t? He was hot and delivered babies for a living. After going on failed date after failed date over the past few months, Jo wanted a win. Besides, she needed a distraction from the thoughts invading her head about Alex. Because it definitely was not appropriate to think of your friend in the way she’d begun to think of him over the past few months. Especially when said friend was a pediatric surgeon who held babies on a daily basis and she’d begun picturing what he’d look like holding their own child. Yeah, that was a glaring warning that she was treading into dangerous territory with Alex. 

What she hadn’t banked on was Jason being the worst date she’d ever been on. From the outside, they looked like a normal, carefree couple, but something within her was raising some giant, blaring red flags. Maybe it was the way Jason had insulted and disapproved of her close friendship with Alex the moment they walked out of the peds wing earlier that evening. Maybe it was the way he mansplained everything and spoke down to her. Maybe it was the way he roughly grabbed her arm and raised his voice when she said something he disagreed with. 

She needed an out and she needed one fast. 

Alex was standing in the corner of the bar playing darts, periodically glancing at Jo and the guy she was with. He made sure to get a really good look at this Jason guy, memorizing his face enough to imagine it on the dart board as he flicked his wrist and hit a bullseye. One second he was pulling a dart out of the board and taking a swig of his beer and the next, someone was tugging on his arm to get his attention. 

“Kiss me,” Jo looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” Alex sputtered his drink. 

“Jason. He’s the worst one Alex. The worst. And he’s at the bar getting more drinks and I need to get away from him,” Jo rambled. 

“I still don’t understand how—”

“Just kiss me,” Jo blurted, eyes desperate. “Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.”

“Yes, they do,” Alex responded dumbly, still unsure as to what was going on. 

He didn’t have any time to think about it though, because as before he knew what was going on, Alex was being pulled into a searing kiss. While this wasn’t the way he’d pictured his first kiss with Jo going, he wasn’t complaining. Not when he could feel her this close to him. Not when her tongue met his own. Not when he could hear her whimpers as she deepened the kiss. 

They could’ve kept going. They would’ve kept going, if it weren’t for Jason’s angry interruption, “You little bitch. I should’ve known you were a liar when you said that there was nothing going on between you and Karev.”

“Jason—” Jo attempted a weak protest. 

“No, you know what? I dodged a bullet with you Wilson. I don’t need to be dating a whore,” Jason’s fists balled up at his sides. 

Seeing the red in Jason’s eyes and his fists ready to strike, Alex intervened, “Don’t you dare call her that or any insult ever again. She’s not your girlfriend, she’s not even your friend. She didn’t cheat on you. So, if I hear you ever disrespect her like that again, you’re gonna want to skip town and that’s a promise.”

Jason glared at them in disgust before turning on his heels and walking out of the bar. 

It wasn’t until Jason was long gone that they were reminded of what had happened minutes prior. Staring up at each other with the strangest expressions on their faces, Alex and Jo waited in silence for a moment. Because what were you supposed to say when you kissed your best friend and you liked it?

The question was, where do they go from here? 

With the surfacing of Jo’s thoughts about Alex blaring 

loudly in her mind, Jo mumbled a small, “thank you” in order to avoid the very real possibility that she’d just thrown this friendship down the toilet. 

Alex nodded awkwardly at her appreciation, “Yeah… don’t mention it.”

And for the first time in months, the end of a horrendous date was not celebrated with Jo and Alex hanging out. It was spent alone. 

[ptcb-archive]

Breakout of the convicted Chapter 1: A dreadful new beginning

| Read the Prologue |

| First (you are here) | Next |

| Read on Ao3 |

Posting on mobile is so fucking hard Jesus Christ 

When the server originally started, TFC’s base was nothing more than, well, his base. Long branch mines starting in his massive vault, where he would get everything he ever needed from underground. He usually didn’t go out at all, but after being assigned the role of leader of the HCPD and second in command of the whole operation, he started going out more, mostly to get people into the vault.

The tiny rooms that were originally meant to be just for decoration and moodsetting ended up being the places where the inmates would spend their days, under the vigilance of TFC himself, and another officer who would stay on duty. They changed every so often.

Mumbo had never been to this place before. He had heard of it and he could imagine the amount of tunnels and spaces the place would have. How big it was; yet once inside, he immediately felt cramped.

Because the place was crammed. Filled to the brim with everyone who was taken in by the police. Only a small section of the base was used as a prison. The man who owned the place still needed a place to live after all. When he was shoved in, he saw most people spending time at the cafeteria built for the inmates, while others were probably spending time in their respective cells.

He walked around the place having every single eye on him. Everyone was staring as fresh meat came into the hell hole. He took a seat at a table that wasn’t too full. Doc and Ren were sitting at the edge of the table playing with some cards. Even the cards looked gloomy. They weren’t even decorated. They looked just like cardboard.

Asleep on the table, laying on his arms, was Biffa. He was just laying there, choosing to be surrounded by people rather than taking a nap on his own cell. It wasn’t clear as to why.

Just as the thought of feeling in place was starting to settle in, Mumbo felt someone sit right next to him.

“Hey. It’s fun seeing you again.”

Mumbo turned his head to see a rather familiar face. He couldn’t quite make up who it was though. “Who are you again?” He asked.

“I’m the one who made you jump to your death.”

Oh. It was Zedaph. Ok. Alright

“Why did you do that?”

Zed looked at him puzzled. “Hm?”

“Why did you force me, AND others to kill ourselves?”

He stretched his arms and back before leaning onto the table. “I don’t know.” He replied. “ I don’t know why I chose that route over any other to get what I wanted. Guess I wanted to see the world burn”

“And what did you want to get?”

“From you? A few diamonds and redstone. Maybe redstone components. You aren’t the first one I ‘killed’ for those”

Mumbo frowned. “You know you can,,, craft those yourself right? There were shops that sold redstone, yet it is such an easy resource to get.” He argued. “Why did you need me to die to get it? You could’ve even asked!”

“Hah” Zed chuckled. “Now where is the fun in that? I knew most people knew I had a bit of a connection to the infamous Tango, so why try to act nicely if most people were going to walk away? I don’t have many diamonds to use for payment, or, well, had, so buying stuff was pointless.” He made a small pause. “But then again what is the big deal everyone has with dying in this world? We are blessed to be able to die and come back. If so is the case, then why is it such a bad thing? It hurts like hell, sure, but you’ll make it through, and come back fully healed. What is the big issue even?”

From across the table, not even moving, opening his eyes, nothing, Biffa made a sound of acknowledgement. The men talking looked at him, before going back to their topic.

Mumbo turned back to Zed and stayed quiet. His couldn’t really think of a good answer to that question. That silence was enough to make Zed smile.  

“Hey if it matters at all, even though I personally don’t care about your death, I’m sorry if it made you upset in the morning.”

“That is the most insincere apology I’ve ever gotten.”

“Eh It’s the best you’ll get. At least I’m being honest. But hey by the time you get out of here you’ll have your stuff back since it was taken from me. Cool huh?”

“Whatever.”

“Alright then.” Zed stood up. “I’ll see you around.”

“It’s not like I have a choice” replied mumbo.

“Haha! True.”

He let out a big sigh of relief before his thoughts were interrupted again by the guys playing cards at the other side of the table.

“REN I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU BEAT ME AGAIN I WILL BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU.”

“Too bad you suck doc.”

“Oh I WILL SHOW YOU. HAND ME BACK THOSE.”

Mumbo had enough of that place and wanted to go into a cell to be on his own. He approached one of the guards standing outside the cafeteria.

“Excuse me, may I go to a cell please?”

The short guy turned around and looked up to see Mumbo standing there. “Alright. But there is something you must know. We are currently under renovations so we’re kinda shoving people together into a few tiny spaces for the time being. Not like we can do much about it or you complain, but just letting you know. Follow me, I’ll take you to your new roommates.”

The doors of the cafeteria opened and Mumbo was handcuffed to walk through the corridors. Everything around him felt small, like this place wasn’t designed for more than one old man. He wanted to get out of there and he had only spent a few minutes.

However he quickly learned that those minutes would turn into hours, days, months, really quickly, as he saw his roommate sitting on the bed. The guy looked up and immediately made a big, shit eating grin.

“Oh, long time no see mustache man.” Said the small guy in the cell. “Now this is going to be fun.”

Mumbo stepped back in shock. “Oh you have got to be kidding me” he protested.

Grian stood up from the bed and signaled the tall guy to get in. Mumbo refused, but the officer next to him told him to get over it and get in at once, or to just go back to the cafeteria.

He got his handcuffs taken and took a seat on a separate bed in the room. “If it weren’t for the fact that it would cause more harm than good, I would’ve punched you in the face”

“Oh wow. You really have a lot of accumulated anger don’t you Mumbo?”

“Shut up. Just shut up. I want to take a nap. That’s all I want. Please. If you can leave the cell that’s even better.”

“Geez.” Scoffed Grian. He got a hold of a guard who put him in handcuffs and took him to the cafeteria. Mumbo was left alone. He crawled into the top bunker bed and covered himself up with the sheets. “I don’t deserve to be here.”

He had set his spawn point.

[taki-flower]

do you want to join a rebellion?

ao3         fanfiction

“You’re a piece of work, aren’t you, Captain Icicle?” a voice drawled lazily from the door. Steve looked up from where he was staring blankly on the wall, eyes landing on a man in his forties with flamboyant, gaudy clothes, eyes highlighted and lined in color, and a single, heavy looking gem dangling from his ear. There was less color in the rainbow (in the old world, back before he went under when everything was depressingly gray and white, and occasionally, morbidly, red) than on the clothes and accessory that he had seen these people wear for everyday life.

Steve almost wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sheer wastefulness of the outfit, but restrained himself. Seventy years had passed; the world was no longer in chaos, it was organized now, a utopia by every definition, President Thanos had reassured him. Just because he had just awaken from being frozen didn’t mean that he should insult the accepted fashion of the present day.

He should be glad, Steve thought to himself, because didn’t it mean that the world’s condition have improved to the point that it could afford to be wasteful? In fact, he should be embracing the fashion of today. How many people seventy years ago would give an arm to even be able to touch such fine materials, and Steve would have the opportunity to wear it like everyone else now.

Yet the thought of even having those ostentatious clothes or color touch his skin was enough to make him almost shudder. There was being able to afford to do something and then there was being wasteful and going over top, and most of what he had seen in the city (Welcome, Captain, President Thanos had said with a sincere smile that didn’t reach his eyes at all, to the Capitol ) belonged to the latter category. Maybe Steve could request some plain clothes and claim that he was still trying to adjust to the century, which was true. He didn’t know how long he could do that for, however, before absently wondering why he seemed to think he would need permission to make such an insignificant decision like choosing his own clothes.

(Cold eyes everywhere, like the gray and white of his old world, despite all the showy colors of the Capitol.)

Steve looked the other man in the eye, as he was taught back in the days when speaking to someone, and almost gasped at the warm amber he saw there. His mind flashed to all the other people he came across in the Capitol since he had wakened the past two days, and all he could recall was blank, blank, blank and blank. Everyone he had come across met his eyes, but they didn’t look beyond the surface (shallow, Steve thought, despite consciously trying very hard for the past two days to not think badly of the brand new world he had awaken to), they looked and didn’t see.

This man was the first to look straight at him instead of staring ahead with glazed eyes. Despite all that his outwear was shouting for attention (even Steve noticed that first before anything else, even though he should have known better), it was the man’s pair of amber eyes (alive) that ultimately captured his attention.

That, and whatever the man was intent on blabbering in his ears.

“I’m almost impressed with how you got people to fawn over you already , if you weren’t stealing everyone’s attention away from me. It’s been only two days, damn it. My handsome face is a regular in the Capitol’s newspaper, but it looks like they’re going to yammer on about you for maybe a whole week before they get tired of you. Tomorrow’s news cover is going to be of me though, ha, good thing I had a breakthrough with the new tech this morning.”

The other man looked at him like Steve should have something to say and suddenly, Steve didn’t know what he saw in the other’s eyes before. His words, somehow more narcissistic than all that he had heard during the past two days, had the same superficial quality as everyone else in the Capitol.

“Wow, don’t tell me I stunned the great Captain into silence,” the other man continued when Steve didn’t say anything.

At the other’s words, a flush crawled up Steve’s face. He was so in his thoughts that he didn’t realized he was quiet the entire time the flamboyant man was there. Steve covered his embarrassment by glaring at the other man, his annoyance not entirely faked. “Who are you?  Are you even allowed to be here?”

Ever since Steve woke up, he had wanted to go outside the building and see the present world, but President Thanos had insisted that he stayed inside the room until he was cleared.

There’s some paperwork we have to sort out first, nothing major, President Thanos had assured him and Steve would have made a tentative, dry joke about how yeah, the paperwork for coming back from presumed dead after seventy years must be mammoth, if only President Thanos didn’t look as sincere as back when he welcomed Steve to the Capitol when he had just been unfrozen, which was to say not sincere at all.  

Call it paranoid, but Steve didn’t like the vibe he sensed from President Thanos, especially when he had a feeling that he hadn’t met anyone or seen anything President Thanos hadn’t deliberately let him to see. It made Steve wonder what the President had to hide and what he didn’t want Steve to know about.

Some part of Steve wanted to dismiss his suspicion, because the world was great now, wasn’t it? It was a utopia, everyone was living fine (wastefully), and there was no reason for him to read too much into anything.

To occupy his time, Steve was given videos of the outside world (To accustom yourself, President Thanos said, so when the paperwork is done, you would know what to expect) and it was great, it was just like what the President said, hunger was completely eliminated from the world, there was no more suffering.

So why – ?

“I’m Tony fucking Stark, Playboy Extraordinary, the best engineer the world has to offer despite what stupid Hammer might claim, and a self-made billionaire,” the man – Stark – had introduced himself with a wide grin. His earring twinkled against the light for a moment. “Man, it’s been forever since I had to introduce myself. Way to make a guy nostalgic.” He didn’t wait for Steve to speak before continuing, “How’s life treating you? Going to be the Capitol’s lab dog? Woof woof.”

Steve startled, not from Stark’s words – although they were strange as well – as much as from the lack of something.

“That accent,” Steve gasped once he realized what was different. All the people he met from the Capitol had a strange accent. Their voices were high pitched and they had the tendency to hiss the letter ‘s.’ Stark had it before, so Steve assumed everyone spoke that way now, but by the second half of Stark’s speech, the accent abruptly dropped.

“Seriously?” Stark said, almost like a whine, and Steve wasn’t hallucinating, the accent was really gone. “I said so much amazing stuff and the accent was all you heard? Tell me you heard my name, at least. My ego can’t take this if you didn’t listen to my self-introduction.”

The rest of Stark’s words from before came back to him. “What do you mean become the Capitol’s lab dog, Stark?” he asked, a thread of anger making into his voice from the unflattering comparison Stark made. “Aren’t you one as well?” which was only a blind guess, but Steve was sure only people with high clearance could have come see him. He was almost certain that President Thanos, for whatever reason, didn’t want him out of his sight or have him in anyone who didn’t have permission’s sight.  

The strangest thing happened after Steve’s words. Stark, who seemed larger than life ever since he had entered the room, seemed to have visibly deflated and the light in his amber eyes dimmed. A smile curled on his face, insincere in everything but the evident self-depreciation, and it was so at odds on his face that Steve almost wished Stark would be back to his annoying, narcissistic self from before. “Well, aren’t you a sharp one?” Stark said, his voice brittle and sharp, and Steve almost apologized for his words because he wasn’t a bully, he didn’t like purposely hurting others, when Stark added, “I guess this is what people call it takes one to one.”

Steve took back his previous intention of apologizing at once and let his voice freeze over, although he still tried hard to hold onto the threads of civility. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Stark,” Steve said, tone hard, “but I don’t appreciate being accused of something that I’m not, regardless of whatever reason you think you have. I’ve only been here for two days, surely I haven’t done something to offend you.”

“Your very existence offends me, Captain,” Stark said, his voice light but it packed the strongest punch. It was almost ridiculous, Stark was but a stranger, but it hurt to hear Stark disliked him, that his very existence offended him. As though Steve wasn’t feeling lonely and paranoid enough by making conspiracy theory where there wasn’t any, Stark had essentially dashed all his hopes of ever being able to integrate within the present-day society. Was Stark speaking for everyone? Did, for whatever reason, everyone in the Capitol dislike him? Was that why President Thanos didn’t let him out into the world yet?

“I grew up hearing stories about what a great hero you are, everyone did, about how you tried to help everyone in the post-apocalyptic world when the governments were all too busy trying to save their own asses. The only thing the Capitol and Panem ever had in common was probably the consensus that you had to be found after you went under.”

Warmth bloomed in Steve’s chest at those words despite not knowing what Panem was. They wanted to find him, Steve thought. Seventy years later today, he was remembered as a hero.

“Even I –“

Steve glanced over at Stark when he seemed to choke on his words, but he blanked his face before Steve could attempt to decipher the emotions on Stark’s face. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. What matters, Captain, is that we pegged you wrong. You aren’t a hero, because if you are, you would be out there fighting the moment you were unfrozen, the moment you heard of the situation, instead of sitting here like a fucking dog that preens under whoever that can afford to feed you.”

Stark took a deep breath and looked like he wanted to continue, whatever glamour he was wearing suddenly unable to make him sparkle and instead, made him look down-right tired and wretched. Steve ached to ask what was going on, why did Stark speak as though there were great injustice in this utopian world (except it wasn’t really a utopia, was it?), but he had to first understand the situation first.

So despite the fact that Steve really wanted to somehow comfort Stark, Steve interjected forcefully with ease he had learned in order to bring order in a post-apocalyptic world. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he started in his best Captain voice, expecting Stark to listen to him like all the others, except of course Stark was the exception.

Steve thought uncharitably that Stark must really enjoy hearing his own voice.

“Oh, so now you’re deaf. Talk about false advertisement, I want my money back. This is worse than finding out Santa Claus is not real,” Stark said, his tone frivolous and forced.  Steve steeled himself to not step back at his words, so confused and befuddled by this change of event. Rarely had he gained control over a situation only to have the control snatch out of his hand a mere moment later. “Well, I hope you can see then. Your eyes better not be from the olden days too.”

Stark waved his hand and before Steve can even ask what did he mean or even take offense at his comment, a beam of light suddenly shot out from Stark’s earring, forming some kind of screen in front of Steve. Steve’s eyes widened, amazed at the reminder that this is the future, of course they have holographic technology. He was about to turn to Stark to ask something, but then the image of the blank blue screen changed, replaced by a video that made Steve completely forget about his wonder at the hologram and even Stark’s presence.

His first thought was that he was seeing a video during the post-apocalyptic period, when everything was dreary, gray and white. Although Steve was supposed to be humankind’s hope and desperately hoped that his initial impression that the video was of the post-apocalyptic world and not the present-day one was right, he somehow knew it in his guts that it wasn’t.

Impoverished, he thought as he watched a skinny young girl, barely fourteen, tried to lug a basket of heavy material, her thin arms straining and her gaunt face dripping with sweat.

Hunger was completely eliminated from the world, he recalled thinking. There was no more suffering.

Oppressed, he thought at the sight of the Peacekeepers holding guns marching in lines, not a citizen daring to be even close proximity with these so-called protectors. Distances away, the citizen harvesting the grains worked faster with barely concealed panic as the Peacekeepers head towards them.

They’re there to keep the people safe, President Thanos answered when Steve asked about the people armored in white.

Unsafe, he thought as an urban place stinking of industrial fumes with no greenery came into sight, with people scurrying into run-down tenements.

It was organized now, the people he had talked to in the Capitol assured him. A utopia by every definition.

Steve could barely breathe as he watched scenes of injustice flashed before his eyes, each not worse than the other but better, and that was somehow worse as he recalled the Capitol in all its ostentatious wastefulness. How could the world he wake to be so injustice, so unequal?

Steve forced his clenched fist to release and breathed heavily through his nose. “Was this what you meant by injustice, Stark?” Steve asked, his voice solemn as he looked at the other for an answer. Steve didn’t know what Stark’s purpose was, but if President Thanos was keeping all this from him, outright lying to him, while Stark showed him these images, then Steve could at least count on Stark to tell him the whole truth.

“Not at all, dear,” Stark said with levity, yet his eyes were dark, oh-so dark. “Those were but snippets. You want to see everything?” Stark looked at him, all attempt at humor draining from his face. “You won’t finish even if I give you those seventy years back, Cap. Capitol is many things, but playing nice is never one of them.”

Steve let out a long breath and tried to organize his thought. Vaguely, he was aware of the hologram disappearing and then Stark’s earring ceased to glow, reverting it back to ordinary looking. “What do you want from me? You must want something, or you wouldn’t have been showing this to me while President Thanos kept everything hidden.”

“Whoah, what I want?” Stark said, looking affronted and startled he dramatically brought both hands to his chest. “Since when do people ask what I want?” and while Stark continued to make everything sound like a joke, Steve couldn’t think that his words contained a grain of truth as well. Stark straightened out, and Steve thought he could hear something like static, before he looked straight into Steve’s eyes and said, “The real question is, what do you want? Do you want to help the Capitol?” Steve subconsciously wrinkled his nose in distaste at the mere thought and an amused half-smile flit across Stark’s face for a split-second before it disappeared.

“Or,” Stark paused dramatically and Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes even as his insides churned uneasily. Or what, he almost wanted to ask, and that was exactly what Stark was going for as he suddenly leaned closer, eyes fixed on Steve’s the whole time until he abruptly veered off to press his lips to Steve’s ears. Steve did not jump, but it was a close thing; his heart, on the other hand, pounded.

“Do you want to join a rebellion?” Stark whispered harshly, his breath hot against Steve’s skin. “For the people, by the people, of the people, Cap.” Stark trailed his lips from Steve’s ears down to along his jaw and Steve wanted to push him away and demand what he was doing, as much as he wanted Stark to stay and finish what he started. “If the people need you, even if they were smashed down one time too many for them to dare to ask now, will you rise for them once more, Captain?”

“Yes,” Steve gasped even before Stark finished speaking. His hand shot out and caught Stark’s jaw gently, bringing them eye to eye. “If it’s to right the injustice I’ve seen in the video, then yes, I will fight. I’ll join your rebellion.”

Stark looked at Steve for a moment, before his mouth curled at last. “Spoken like a true man, Steve Rogers” and Steve jolted because it had been Captain this and Captain that since he had awoken. Who did call him by that name anymore and – And then Stark leaned forward, curled a hand at the back of Steve’s head and kissed him, languid and slow like a love confession, and pulled away before Steve could react.

Stark skipped back a few steps as though expecting Steve to punch him, his eyes lit with mischievous and lips curled up with delight. “Welcome to S.H.E.I.L.D., Captain Roger. I rarely apologize, but I’ll make an exception for you just this once.” Stark had the gall to wink at him, before some of his humor faded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean what I said before, with the lab dog, ‘your very existence offends me’ and whatnot. All a test. Might as well clear that up, or I’ll end up scaring you away before we even get started, and then Fury is going to be on my ass and never let me recruit anyone ever again, even though I was the one who convinced Bruce to join us. Honestly.”

“What?” Steve said, trying to wrap his head around everything that happened ever since he met Stark.

Stark smirked, looking annoyingly pleased with himself. “Speechless looks good on you, as well as well-kissed and rumpled, which might I add, I did a good job with, but there’s a time and place for these things.” Steve fought against the rising flush on his face as Stark continued as though he was not the one at fault for initiating everything. “Okay, you are to blame everything on me. Tell them that I seduced you if they asked, not the first time or the last.” He sounded wryly amused, but also resigned. “Obviously, don’t tell them about S.H.E.I.L.D. I can block cameras and bugs, well, Jarvis can” – Stark’s earring seemed to twinkle – “but I can’t block people’s memory just yet, so don’t let it slip.”

Steve’s eyes widened at the mention of cameras and bugs. He’d completely forgotten about them and judging by the pleased look on Stark’s face, he knew it too. “It’s okay. Like I said, took care of it. Jarvis hacked into their cameras and bugs, and replaced what really happened here with some random version of his making that’s going to tell a steamy tale about our blooming love.”

“How?” Steve blurted out when it looked like Stark wanted to move on to another topic, but Steve had to make sure. There was no point of joining a rebellion if they were going to be found out so soon. “And when did Jarvis start ‘hacking’ into their cameras?”

Stark sighed, as though annoyed that Steve doubted him. “The moment I introduced myself. ‘Tony fucking Stark’ was the signal for Jarvis to start hacking, which is to say he took clips of us and what we said, and rearranged it to tell another story other than us plotting a rebellion. Before you ask how he managed with the bugs, he has enough samples of my voice and could take enough samples of your voice from the Capitol’s database and make something up, and it’s not to say that all this interrogation isn’t pleasant, but as amazing Jarvis is, he really can’t keep hacking the footage for too long, or he’ll be found out. Capitol’s people are watching this live, you don’t want them to look too closely at us.”

“Okay, fine,” Steve said, slipping all the questions he was bursting to ask – like who is Jarvis, someone from SHIELD? – to the back of his mind. “What do we do now?”

“Now, because we are striving towards something foreign called Democracy here, we’ll give you a choice.” Stark looked at Steve seriously and said, “Think carefully. One, we all know from stories that you like fighting on the front line, busting enemy’s heads and all, so you have the choice to do that. If you choose that, we’ll bust you out of here. Risky, but doable.” For you, was left unspoken, because you’re Captain.  

“Two, you can stay here with me and fight on the inside, but you’re fighting my way, so that means playing nice with Capitol to get their trust, making public appearances and everything.” Steve’s stomach roiled at the thought of that, and Stark’s lips quirked in humor at that. “It’s no front line, I know, but I’ll be honest right now, the front line is quiet for a while now. It’s all plotting and planning before we go with the whole overthrow, so…” So you’ll be more useful here.

“Sir, you have thirty second before the cameras and bugs catch you on real time,” a voice with a British accent said out of nowhere, making Steve jump. Stark outright laughed at Steve’s reaction, even as he pressed a hand to his earring and, looking at Steve, said, “Roger that.”

“So,” Stark prompted as the remnant of his laughter fade from his expression. “You heard Jarvis. Chop, chop. No time like the present. I’ll bring you out with me when I leave if you choose to stay, but if you want to go, I’ll have to tell S.H.I.E.L.D to bust your ass out like two days later so you can’t implicate me.”

“I’ll be more helpful if I stay?” Steve asked, even as inwardly he made up his mind. “And you’ll stay with me?” Stark, the only person he had ever talked to for any length of time, the one with bright amber eyes among all the grey.

“Yup,” Stark said, even as he moved closer like he somehow knew Steve’s answer already. “They’re used to me acting like a diva already, so as long as you request that I stay with you, we’re good.”

“Sir, fifteen seconds,” Jarvis warned and up close, Steve could tell the sound was really emanating from the earring. It was amazing how much technology had advanced in the time he was down.

“Alright, Stark,” Steve agreed and marveled at the tight feeling in his chest, the anticipation as Stark neared him, and wondered if this was the feeling of making a deal with an angel. Up close and with most of his questions out of his head, Tony Stark looked stunning in spite of all the unnecessary accessories he donned. “I’ll stay.”

“Then let’s give them a show, should we?” Stark said with the curl of his lips, his hand caressing Steve’s face. “And it’s Tony, Rogers. We’re madly in love, you can’t even stand a second away from me, remember?”

Steve brought a hand to S – Tony’s waist and hated how nothing seemed to ever unsettle him as he took it all to stride. “It’s Steve, Tony,” Steve rasped and enjoyed how Stark shivered ever slightly. He hesitated for a moment, before taking a leap. “And I thought you were madly in love with me?”

Tony laughed at Steve’s reply, and the nervous tension within his chest loosened even as another part tightened. Tony had a nice laugh. “We’ll get along just fine, Steve.”

“Sir, in three, two, one.”

“Well, let’s get this show started,” Tony murmured, before surging up to press his lips against Steve’s. This time, Steve kissed back.