#i watched five lambs being born for this fic

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Where the Crop Circles Grow ch.3

Summary: When things get out of hand at the Pines’ family farm, Ford asks an old college buddy to assist investigating anomalies and Stan hires a farmhand. Who knew asking for help would actually get you somewhere?

For @lemonfodrizzleart. Part of her Farmer AU and featuring her OC, Jackie Asante.

Ao3 link here.

ch.2 - ch.4

~~~~~~~~~~

“Good girl, Spots, good girl.” Stan coached and then turned his head away from the sheep. “Jackie! That water n’ towel sometime today would be great!”

“Shaddup, I’m coming!” Jackie called back, a dark towel over her shoulder as she drew a tub of water. She hurried as fast as she could without spilling much water and hurried into the bigger of the two barns. While the smaller one was for Luna and Truffles, the bigger one was for the sheep. All but one was outside, enjoying the nice weather, while a white sheep with black spots like a cow was taking deep breaths as she laid in the soft hay.

“Atta girl, atta girl,” Stan soothed as Jackie joined his side and put down the metal tub and gave him the towel. “Thanks, now watch this.”

Part of her wanted to look away and the other part of her was mesmerized, so the boss’ order helped Jackie to make up her mind. She rested her hands on her knees and watched as Spots pushed very slowly. Just under her tail what looked like uncooked chicken was seeping out. Stan pressed his mouth tight, a sign he was concerned, and Jackie watched as the farmer gently patted a little head, just by the neck. “C’mon, c’mon…”

Jackie’s eyes adjusted to what she was seeing as the little lamb jerked, not even fully born yet, but already making wee cries. Jackie wondered if something was still wrong, but Stan relaxed and smiled as the lamb jerked around some more, and the new farm-woman was sure everything was alright. 

“Well, look at that.” Jackie awed as the lamb slipped out and Spots immediately got up, turned, and began to lick her baby clean.

“Good girl, Spots, good girl.” Stan praised as he petted her neck, her back tender and sore, and therefore it wouldn’t be appreciated to be petted there right now. “Right, we’ll let her clean her lamb as much as she wants to n’ then we’ll just look it over to make sure everything’s as it should be. Most of the time s’long as they’re movin’ they’re fine.”

Jackie nodded, enjoying the scene. Yes it was gross and Jackie could probably use a glass of water right now, but she had never seen anything give birth before, so it was kind of nice to check that off her bucket list. After another minute or so, the new lamb was beginning to stand. That made Stan grin. “That’s it, fellow. That’s it, take your time, now.”

The lamb, now nearly clean, was white all over and already had an impressive coat. Stan chuckled and scooped the lamb up in his strong arms, his long sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair tied back. “Sweet Lord, this one’s got quite a coat.”

“Does it?” Jackie asked.

“Oh yeah,” Stan said as he began to gently wash the lamb. “See, most sheep when first born got thinner coats, cuz they don’t need thicker coats inside their moms, but this one’s just a right ole little cloud.” Was his voice becoming more strained? Was he getting choked up?! 

Jackie looked at his brown eyes and thought they looked more wet than normal. “Stanley Pines, are you crying?”

“That’s not important right now!” Stan snapped as loud as he dared, his voice still somehow managing to be soft and quiet for the baby. When back in Stan’s arms as he rubbed it dry, the lamb “bah”ed happily with big shiny eyes. The farmer happily gazed at the newest member of the flock until Spots “bah”ed at Stan, making him laugh and set the lamb down. “Alright, alright. Here’s your Dot, Spots.”

Dot nuzzled her mother and began to drink her milk. Spots licked her back as she nursed and Stan stood up to leave them be. “They'll rejoin the herd later. Just keep an eye on Dot to make sure she’s okay.”

“Gotcha.” Jackie followed Stan with the tub since he had the towel.

“Grayback had her lambs last week,” Stan pointed out and he and Jackie watched a gray sheep with a white head and legs snap at a gray lamb and a white lamb, bigger than Dot and much more troublesome. “N’ Clover should have her’s any day now, then that’s all for the season.”

Jackie caught the eye of a big white sheep gnawing on some grass and smiled at Clover as she followed Stan towards the house. “Do they need us to be there?”

Stan shrugged. “Nah, they can do it alright by themselves, but better be safe than sorry n’ be there in case something goes haywire, you know? Just keep an eye on ‘em n’ if things don’t look good call for me.”

Jackie mockingly sallutted her boss. “Yes, sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It was Sunday and it rained all day, so while Jackie should be more productive since she rested yesterday, she didn’t really have the energy to do it. Which was fine, nobody else seemed all too keen on doing more than they have to. Stan was watching TV by the wood-burning stove as he used a piece of glass to cut at a long piece of wood and Ford used the extra time to teach Jackie how to make butter. 

It really was simple. Jackie had no idea why, but she expected it to be more complicated, but Ford simply took a carton of Luna’s milk and poured it into an electric mixture, let it mix on low for a minute, and then on high for three, then he showed her a special mold the family had, a perfect rectangle shape, but along the edges there would be a forest field with pinetrees. When the cream was separated into butter and buttermilk, Ford put the butter on a plate and poured the buttermilk into a jug to use later for cooking or whatever. Then with clean hands, Ford pressed the clumps of butter together to drain it of liquid, made sure it was clean and smooth, and then packed it into the mold. Then, like magic, Ford flipped the mold over and a perfect stick of homemade butter appeared on the dish, earning him a jaw-drop from Jackie.

“There’s enough milk for another stick.” Ford said and gestured to the mixer. “Would you care to do the honors?”

“Sure! Thanks!” Jackie said excitedly and got to work on making the second stick of butter.

Ford smiled, excused himself from the room, and went off to watch TV with his twin and try to finish knitting that extra blanket for Tate’s bed before the McGuckets arrived in two days.

Jackie counted to sixty after setting the mixer on low and then set it on high and set the little timer to three minutes. To entertain herself, she turned away from the counter and looked out the big window that decorated the wall. Displayed was a beautiful view of the woods and the driveway that housed the red Diablo. All the animals were tucked away safely for the rainy day and it gave the farm an odd appearance. The rain was heavy, but there was no thunder or lightning. Even a little bit of fog played with the grass.

Jackie crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at the scene, until something unusual caught her eye and it made her smile drop. Now, she couldn’t be sure, but swore she saw a little ball of white fluff moving farther and farther away, closer and closer to the woods.

At once Jackie shut off the mixer, snatched one of the boys’ rain jackets from the hooks, slipped it on, and bolted outside. She ran to the driveway, past the small berry garden, and squinted with a hand shielding her eyes from the falling water. Sure enough, a little lamb was skipping and playing in the rain, and soon disappeared in the woods.

“DOT!” Jackie cried out and ran towards where the baby sheep had last been seen. “You come back here! Dot!”

The young woman was too small in the blue rain jacket, the hood often covering her eyes and the sleeves rolling past her fists as she ran, but it would have to do. Jackie’s feet were already chilly, but thank goodness the work boots were doing their job for awhile at least. Jackie paused to look around and try to catch a sighting of Dot, but no white could be seen in the sea of blues and greens and browns.

“Dot!” Jackie called out and walked carefully so she wouldn’t pass the lost sheep. “Dot, here girl!”

The farmhand held herself tightly in the overgrown jacket and blinked the rain drops off her eyelashes. She had never been in the woods before, except for when Stan took her on a Truffles-drawn cart ride through the woods and into town and up to Boyish Dan’s house for lumber in exchange for some wool. But this was different. Last time she was on the main path and safe with Stan on the reigns by her side. Now she was by herself and in the middle of nowhere and she could understand why Stan ordered her to never come here.

It wasn’t scary, rather it had a bigger-than-life feeling to Jackie. As she passed towering oak trees and old pines that housed many sleepy owls and fuzzy squirrels, she had a borderline creepy feeling in her spine, like there was so much more to these woods, like they were hiding something. But that was ridiculous! Woods can’t hide anything, like how a child would hide candy wrappers from their parents. No, it’s just the rain creating a dearry feeling in the forest.

“Dot!” Jackie called again, her face becoming damp and her thighs were cold. “Dot, please! Let’s go home!”

She paused and looked around. She allowed herself a minute to think as she cupped her hands by her mouth and blew into them to warm her cheeks and fingers. It wasn’t terribly cold, but the spring rain did make it a bit chilly and uncomfortable. But then, thank goodness, Jackie heard some bahs coming from her right. She hurried, pushing through branches and bushes, and there she found Dot. The lamb’s back-right leg was caught in a branch by the thick wool and she fought and tugged and pulled but could not get free.

Jackie smiled and went to her lamb. “Dot! That’s what you get for running off. How’d you even escape the barn and the fence, huh girl?”

Of course Dot didn’t answer. Jackie scooped her up one armed and untangled the bush from the wool. Now Jackie could snuggly hold the lamb. Poor Dot was wet and shivering; she may have a slightly thicker coat than other sheep her age, but it still wasn’t quite as thick as it should be to protect her from the bitter cold. Jackie retracted her arms inside her jacket and then unzipped it quickly to let the lamb in. Now Jackie had a closed oversized jacket hanging by the hood on her head and a lamb in her arms. And she was lost.

Jackie looked around the woods for any sign of the farm, but she had strayed too far into it and saw no sign of a clear field. Well, she wasn’t going to find anything by standing still. If she could find that dirt road, then at least she would either hit town or the farm. Jackie carefully stepped over tree-roots and wildflowers and lightly scolded Dot to give her something to occupy her thoughts.

“Dot, just wait until I tell Mama Stan about this. He’s gonna scold you good.” Jackie snorted as she remembered when Truffles snapped at Jackie and Stan scolded at his horse, much like how a parent would scold a child. Really, there was no point in hiding the fact that all the animals were his babies. Let’s just say that when the time comes Stan will make a wonderful father and leave it at that.

Dot licked some droplets off Jackie’s chin and snuggled up against her chest. Jackie was damp, but not as bad as she would be without the blue rain jacket. Really, she couldn’t stay mad at Dot. Moses knows she was nothing but trouble as a kid, but every mistake she had ever made helped mold her into a better person, helped her become the person she is now. And she would like to think she was alright.

Jackie stepped on a twig that snapped and she kicked it aside as she ventured onward. She might not even be heading towards a road. She wished she could see the sun. At least then she would know East from West and could make a better guess on which direction to go. And… oh, crap! She left the butter unfinished! Damn it. Jackie groaned to herself and walked on, but then her left foot plunged into a dip in the earth and was now ankle-deep in mud. Jackie swore loudly and pulled her soaked foot out and walked on. Dot shook in her grasp and licked her hand to try to calm her down.

Jackie rubbed the lamb’s back. “I’m sorry Dot, but I’m having a rough day right now.”

Then something else made her stop in her tracks. Was it… whispering? Or wind through the trees? No, the air was still. Jackie looked around and lifted her hood up lightly to see better. “Hello?” She called out.

The sound was gone. Someone was definitely out there. “Hello, can you help me out?” Jackie called and looked around for a shadow or a light. “I think I went in the wrong direction.”

She was silent and listened carefully through the symphony of rain. “Yes… yes, she will do fine.”

Jackie’s heart skipped a beat. She had seen enough horror movies to know what happens to young women alone in the woods. Jackie turned right around and ran for her life. Dot cried out in shock and uncomfortably, bouncing around, but Jackie ignored her and only held the lamb tighter.

Puddles splashed and wetted her legs up to her knees. The hood fell off her head and now the over-sized jacket was barely hanging by her shoulders. Jackie freed some fingers from Dot to grab the jacket so she wouldn’t lose it and have to explain to the boys that one of their jackets went missing in the woods. Lightning flashed and a few seconds later thunder rolled. The heavy rain was turning into a storm. Dot cried out again and buried her head in Jackie’s chest. Jackie gasped for breath but did not stop running.

Now she couldn’t be sure. She was moving too fast to get a good look at it, but Jackie could have sworn on her life that she saw some sort of triangle on top of something circular, like an upside-down ice cream cone. Or a gnome.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Pines twins had been laughing too loudly over a joke on the TV to hear the door slam when Jackie left. A few minutes went by and Jackie hadn’t joined them in the living room, which was fine, she probably was starting on dinner or wanted to be alone. Her disappearance hadn’t even been noticed until Ford went into the kitchen for some orange juice and he frowned at the electric mixer. The butter was only half done and now a whipped, melting mess. Ford restarted the mixer and after a minute deemed the cream salvageable. If Jackie didn’t want to make the second stick of butter she should have said so.

Ford finished the chore and left the dishes to soak in soapy water in the sink. He went into the living room as Stan laughed at the TV. “Haha! That guy got hit in the head with a coconut!”

“Stanley, have you seen Jackie?” Ford asked.

“Huh? Uh, no. Why?”

The front door flew open as wind howled and lightning stuck and thunder roared. Jackie hurried inside with the jacket hanging by her shoulders, her hair soaked and sticking to her skin, and her lungs nearly empty of oxygen. She leaned against the door and tried to catch her breath while the men stood at the doorway of the living room and stared.

“Sweet Lord!” Stan gasped and helped Jackie out of his rain jacket. “What were you doin’ out there?!”

“Dot… got… out.” Jackie panted, swallowed and handed the sleepy lamb to Stan, who was completely dumbfounded. “I caught sight of her escaping just in time. Poor thing ended up stuck on a bush.”

Stan was at a loss for words for a minute, but then cradled Dot in one strong beefy arm and wrapped around around Jackie’s shoulders. “Here, let’s get you warm n’ dry. Sixer, go get a towel or two, will ya?”

Ford nodded, hurried for the bathroom, and Stan walked Jackie into the living room. He pulled a short stool out in front of the wood-burning stove and gently guided Jackie to it. She could walk on her own, she was only cold, but she was grateful for the help and decided not to fuss. She watched as Stan slipped off his red button-up and wrapped it around Dot like it was a blanket. Jackie smiled at seeing Stan rubbed the lamb dry and how his eyes sparkled and shined. Dot licked his strong chin and he chuckled and scratched Dot under her chin.

“I wonder how she got out.” Jackie said quietly.

“Must be a whole somewhere in the barn.” Stan guessed. “We’ll take a look tomorrow.” He looked up at Jackie and smiled kindly at her. “N’ hey, thanks for brinin’ her home.”

Jackie’s face suddenly felt hot, and she wasn’t sure it was from the fire. She smiled and nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Ford then returned and handed the towels to Jackie. She thanked him and wrapped one around her hair and draped the other one over her shoulders. She watched as Stan threw some wood in the fire one-handed, the other holding Dot and then he sat next to her on the floor and let the lamb rest in his lap. Dot yawned and buried her face in his arm, his other hand petting her back. Jackie, without registering her actions, put a hand on Stan’s shoulder.

Ford smiled at the scene before him and decided to go read a book elsewhere.

[the-real-tc]

Fic UPDATE! Wide River to Cross: Homecoming

Author’s Note: So close. We're so close now, dear readers. Thanks for sticking with me this far; not much longer now. I promise. As you'll see from the events in this chapter, it will be impossible to prolong the agony. (Who remembers the actual agony while watching Season 7, wondering what had happened between Jack and Lisa? I remember that agony...) All that aside, the good part about how long this story has taken me is that plot lines that have occurred down the line can be worked in, and they can make some semblance of sense. I hope. Anyway, here's the latest chapter.

Chapter 22: Homecoming

In the darkness of night, the tree-lined drive seemed eerily foreign to Lisa as the town car bore both her and Rachel to their familial estate. Though it was a view she had seen thousands of times in her life, this particular return to Fairfield granted her no trace of comfort or sense of homecoming. It was bordering on close to ten months that she had been absent—one of the longest spells she had been away since her past marriage to Dan and subsequent move to the USA.

Lisa could not help but recall other lengthy absences from Fairfield, particularly in her adolescence when she had attended boarding school in France with Rachel. While she had enjoyed those times away—thanks to her love of French culture and many outings with her doting Aunt Evelyn—the inevitable homesickness was alleviated only upon return. Now, she felt like a stranger returning to a strange place, creeping in like some interloper.

Like a thief in the night, she thought to herself wryly, fighting the encroaching discomposure without much success.

“We’re here, Rach,” Lisa whispered, giving her younger sibling a gentle nudge.

“Huh? Oh, thanks,” Rachel mumbled sleepily. “I didn’t realise I nodded off.”

She smiled slightly, watching as Rachel rubbed bleary eyes before finishing off with a long yawn. Rachel had endured only one flight; Lisa had needed three to return to Alberta. Exhaustion was indeed beginning to overwhelm her, but there was a nervous tension buzzing through her veins, keeping her on an unusual level of alertness. Now that she was back in Hudson, the mere thought of being in the same town as Jack—and potentially encountering him anywhere—set her mind spinning. How would such a meeting play out? What words could pass her lips to express to him all that was in her heart? What words, if any, would he have to say to her?

Security lights illuminated the exteriors of the stables, dispelling the shadows. Night checks would have already been completed by this hour. All was quiet now, though Lisa knew Harry Wilkes would probably still be up in his office, burning the midnight oil while waiting for their arrival.

Good ol’ Harry, Lisa thought with affection. He had been such a constant presence in her life since she was a little girl, working his way up from the very bottom as a stable hand to head groomsman. Matthew Stillman had come to trust the man with just about everything, and Lisa had done the same. Harry was dedicated to the care of the horses in a way that went beyond what was expected of a mere hired hand. Anyone else would have retired from the position by now, but Harry was still logging the same hours as he had during the past forty-five years as a Fairfield employee. He had been there through the lean years and through the successful ones.

Without her realising it, a long pout pulled at Lisa’s face as the car pulled to a stop in front of the sprawling ranch house. She knew Harry was not thrilled with the idea of her selling Fairfield, even though he was guaranteed a handsome severance package. The rest of the staff might be keen on staying on with new owners; Harry would not—Lisa was certain of that.

“Why the long face?” Rachel asked, looking over at her. “Something wrong?”

“Hmm?” Lisa shook herself. “Oh, no. It’s just that... I-I don’t think Harry is pleased with my decision to sell, that’s all.”

“So Harry’s still working here, eh?” Rachel said, lips quirking into a lop-sided smile. “Dad really lucked out when he hired him. He’s been here since before I was even born. Good ol’ Harry.”

“I honestly don’t think I could have managed without him when Dad got sick,” Lisa mused out loud.

Sure enough, the door to the Fairfield business offices opened to reveal the man in question, silhouetted against the interior lights. He waved jauntily at them, and Lisa intuited he was intent on helping them unload their luggage.

“C’mon,” she said to Rachel as she opened her door. “Let’s get out before he gets the idea we’re going to let him carry everything into the house. He’s been up all night waiting; he’s got to be tired after working all day.”

“Right,” Rachel said in agreement, though she was staving off another yawn of exhaustion.

“Ah, the two prettiest girls in Hudson have made their triumphant return,” Harry greeted them affectionately; paternally.

“Oh, Harry,” Lisa said with a chagrined laugh, “I don’t know about ‘triumphant’, and after travelling all day, we look like something the cat dragged in.”

“Ha! Speak for yourself, sis,” Rachel interjected merrily. “Harry, flattery gets you everywhere. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Rachel.”

The three gathered for a warm group hug. As Lisa guessed moments earlier, the next words out of Harry’s mouth were an offer to bring their luggage inside.

“No, no, you take it easy Harry,” Lisa quickly stated. “You’ve had a long day, too. Rachel and I can manage just fine.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said, reaching for the largest of the pieces the chauffeur had just deposited from the trunk. “Your father would be horrified if he saw me standing by idly while you two dragged all this stuff by yourselves.”

“Chivalry isn’t dead in Hudson, I see,” Rachel quipped, following the older man with her carry-on and a smaller suitcase.

“Thanks, Harry,” Lisa said after everything was sitting in the spacious foyer.

“Happy to do it, Lisa,” Harry said. “Welcome home.”

“Yeah... for however long that’s going to be,” Lisa sighed.

“It’s going to be hard seeing this place go,” Harry uttered with a wistful air. “Fairfield has been a big part of Hudson ever since you made it the success it’s become, Lisa. This town won’t be the same without it—or you.”

Not unkindly, Lisa asked: “Is this your way of trying to talk me out of selling?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. I know an old fella like me who’s on his way to retirement can’t interfere with the business decisions of his boss, but you know this place has always been more than just a ’job’ for me.”

“I know,” Lisa said warmly, reaching out to touch his arm in a show of understanding. “And I thank you for everything you’ve done from the day my father hired you to this present time.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, placing a hand over hers for a few moments. “I should be on my way. See you in the morning.”

“Of course.”

Harry turned to make his exit, but hesitated on the threshold. “There is something...”

Lisa waited expectantly. “What is it?” she asked when he did not continue.

“Hmmph. Nah, it can wait ‘til tomorrow,” he muttered. “Goodnight, ladies.”

“’Bye,” Rachel said, trying to suppress another yawn.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Lisa said, closing the door behind him, slightly perturbed by the man’s cryptic parting words. Whatever it was, she would learn of it the next day.

--

As cranky as Jack was at the notion of having the woolly creatures on his land, Georgie’s 4H Club project meant sheep at Heartland was good for something. At least the kid could learn about the rearing of an animal she could handle. Lambs weren’t liable to trample you, gore you, buck you off, or kick you in the head. It was decidedly not fun chasing down the specific lamb Georgie and Olivia wanted, especially since they could not agree on which one was the best one for their needs. Jack half-suspected they were changing their fickle minds on purpose, just for the spectacle of his sprawling about in the grass and weeds, grabbing at this lamb or that lamb.  

It should have been Tim’s job seeing after the sheep, but he picked that very week to head to Moose Jaw to visit with his son, Shane, so they could spend Thanksgiving together. Why was it his ex-son-in-law continued to be such an irritant and an imposition in his life? If not for Lou and Amy, the man would never again have darkened the door at Heartland.

After Georgie and Olivia finally settled on a lamb and Jack successfully secured it, he decided a little break was necessary. It was no use getting worked up over the flock again; also, the girls did not need his grumpy mood to ruin things for them. It was trial enough for Georgie to be partnered with Olivia, he knew, so he did his best to keep his cool while in their company.

Once inside the kitchen, he brewed a cup of tea and eased into a chair in the living room—the kitchen having been taken over by Peter and his laptop. The man really needed office space of some kind while he was here, Jack mused.

Why Tim felt the need to saddle his son-in-law with the nickname “The General” was beyond Jack, but then again, Tim knew exactly how to push other people’s buttons. The recent fiasco involving Tricia and her near-delinquent daughter, Jade, at the fishing cabin was a fine example of that.  

Jack sipped at his tea, trying to resolve in his mind yet again why Tim possessed such an unbridled sense of entitlement. He lacked what Jack’s grandmother would have called social graces. His unsolicited comments could be tactless. The frustrating thing was that such comments were often uncomfortable truths no one else wanted to face or accept.

When Tim had first asked how the Arizona trip had been, Jack recalled initially telling him to mind his own business. Tim, ignoring Jack’s desire for privacy had asked, point-blank:

“You missed Lisa, didn’t you?”

”Didn’t I tell you to mind your own business?!” Jack had retorted. “I had a swell time.”

”You’re not fooling me, old man. What did you do with yourself down there the whole time? You couldn’t have been having that much of a ‘swell time’ because you cut it short and came home a week early!”

“I did happen to have some good times, thank you very much!”

“Yeah? Doing what?” Tim had challenged.

“Saddleback trip. Lookin’ at real estate. Meeting nice people. Camping and fishing.”

“Meeting nice people and fishing, eh? Catch anything good down there in Arizona?” Tim asked suggestively.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I hooked a very nice catfish.”

“Oooh! A catfish!” Tim had crooned, pretending to be impressed. “How big was it?”

Knowing he would not be able to lie any further, Jack had groaned in annoyance and decided it was time to cease this line of questioning. “Dunno,” he had sullenly replied. “It pulled free from the hook before I could reel it in. The sun was going down by then. I quit trying after that.”

“Ha!” Tim had laughed triumphantly. “Dinner out of a can that night, right?”

Jack grit his teeth. “No, I forgot to bring a can opener. Are you done, now?”

“You ‘forgot’ to bring a can opener?” Tim crowed in derision. “So why didn’t you just use your knife to open the can, or did you forget to bring a knife, too?”

“Oh, would you just shut up already!”

Jack stalked off and was thus out of earshot when a gleeful, self-righteous Tim muttered, “Ohhh, he totally missed Lisa.”

--

It was already after 10:00 a.m. when Lisa awoke on Saturday morning. The inevitable jet-lag felt especially pronounced this time around, and she groaned when she realised the lateness of the hour. She so wanted to soak up a few more hours of sleep, but knew work was waiting. There was the matter Harry mentioned the night before which she wanted to get to the bottom of, but the first order of business absolutely had to be contacting the real estate agent.

After a quick shower, she shared a hurried breakfast with Rachel. Her sister was still drowsy and not much in the mood to talk while they ate. When Rachel drifted back to bed for a nap, Lisa finally got on the phone to the realtor, glad they were indeed open that day despite it being a holiday long weekend. After all those months in France of dithering on this, it felt almost anti-climactic the sale would finally be happening. The deed is done, Lisa thought after hanging up. She was not sure what emotions she was experiencing now that Fairfield would officially be on the market.

Ruefully, she thought, I really should call Dan and tell him the ‘good’ news. In all truth, her ex-husband was the last person she wanted to speak to after all their less-than-pleasant email correspondences over the past several months. I wonder what Jack would think if I called him and told him I was back in Hudson? Lisa stopped herself cold. Where did that thought come from?! I would have to explain to him that I’m finally selling the old place and moving to France for good, wouldn’t I? I’d have to come up with some excuse as to why I didn’t even tell him I was coming back.

She stood from behind her desk and decided it was time to check in on Harry, brushing aside any further thoughts of both of her exes.

“Ah, Lisa! Good morning,” Harry greeted Lisa brightly when she knocked on the business office door.

“Good morning, Harry. I just got off the phone with the real estate people. Someone’s going to be by later this week to properly assess the property and get some signs posted and such.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod of understanding.

“Harry, about that thing you mentioned last night...”

“Oh, yes. That,” Harry said, lowering his voice.

Lisa caught his tone, and interpreted he was about to tell her something she would not particularly enjoy hearing. “Well, what is it?”

“It’s Dan,” Harry said in a manner that spoke volumes of disapproval.

“Dan? What’s he done now?” Lisa asked guardedly.

“You’d better follow me,” Harry said, rising from his seat.

He led Lisa out to the stables where they stopped in front of Fairfield Flyer’s stall. The champion racer seemed strong and healthy, and Lisa looked at her head groomsman, awaiting an explanation.

“Dan and some of his people and vets have been here to see Flyer and Rhapsody quite a few times while you were gone,” Harry started. “Since you have joint ownership, of course I couldn’t stop him.”

“Stop him from doing what?” Lisa asked, instantly on edge. Rhapsody was one of her broodmares.

“From getting all kinds of lab work done—and cell samples taken from Flyer.”

“Cell samples...” Lisa mused out loud.

Harry continued. “Rhapsody is already nine months pregnant. You had no idea, did you?” he asked warily as he studied her reaction. “Don’t answer that. Your expression tells me all I need to know.”

Lisa felt her cheeks flush. “I always did have a lousy poker face,” she grumbled.

“Ah, I should have known he didn’t tell you, but you know I’m not the type to interfere,” a contrite Harry said. “And given the nature of what he was doing, I wasn’t sure if you were both keeping it a secret, or what. Sorry, Lisa.”

“Don’t apologize; this isn’t remotely your fault. It seems I have a call to make to my ‘business partner’. Thanks, Harry.”

She strode out of the stables, absolutely steaming, trying to decide how best to have this conversation with Dan. Cell samples? That could only mean one thing, Lisa concluded, coupled with Dan’s recent talk about getting into horse cloning. He was trying to warm me up to the idea, she now realised.

“Where do you get off cloning Fairfield Flyer without even consulting with me first?!” Lisa exploded when she had Dan on the line.

“Now hold on just a minute, Lisa—” Dan tried to interrupt.

“No, you hold on; I’m not finished,” Lisa hissed through clenched teeth. “Harry told me you’ve been out to Fairfield to see Flyer and Rhapsody. This is the real reason you’ve been so demanding about the finances, isn’t it? You weren’t concerned about the Avignon facility—you were paying to have Flyer cloned. How many other horses did you have lined up for the procedure?”

From Dan’s silence, Lisa knew she had hit the nail on the head.

“When were you going to tell me?” Lisa fumed. “When were you going to tell me the Avignon deal was all a sham and that you were really using my investment funds to clone Flyer and God knows how many others?”

“Okay, simmer down,” Dan said, trying to placate her. “Avignon is still a go. But the focus has shifted slightly. It could be the best equine cloning facility in Europe, Lisa. If the clone of Flyer is a success, we’re going to take it to Avignon as the poster boy for the procedure in race horses. We’d be one of the first out of the gate doing this. We could make history, Lisa, because the Racing Association is bound to come around once more people get on board.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Lisa had to keep herself from shouting. “You go behind my back, and-and then try to tell me you’re shifting the focus of the breeding facility we planned in France?”

“All that stuff you learned in that Lexington conference about performance markers is great, Lisa,” Dan said, “but that’s yesterday’s science. Cloning is the future. Do you really want to be left behind?”

Lisa realised she was still too angry to have a rational talk with Dan. “Let’s table that question,” she finally said. “I just got into Hudson late last night, and I’m too tired to deal with this right now. But make no mistake, Dan, I’m not impressed you went behind my back.”

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Dan said, sounding almost relieved. “Hang on, did you just say you’re back in Hudson?”

Lisa clenched her teeth in irritation. “How else do you think I found out about Flyer?”

“Uhhh—Harry told you, didn’t he?”

“Of course Harry told me,” snapped Lisa, relishing the discomfort she heard in Dan’s voice. He sounded as if he were a guilty schoolboy.

“I see,” Dan said in resignation. “Wait, if you’re in Hudson, does that mean you’ve finally put Fairfield on the market?”

“Yes, Dan, you’ll be happy to know I took care of that chore before calling you,” Lisa replied testily.

“Good! That’s great!” Dan exclaimed. “Finally. Look, Lisa, I get you’re upset about the cloning thing. You’re right; I should have included you in that decision. But Flyer is mine, too. I think in time, you’ll see—”

“Ah, but Rhapsody is mine,” Lisa cut in. “You’re still on shaky ground, Dan. As I said just now, we’ll discuss this later. You’ll be lucky if I don’t decide to involve my lawyer with this one.”

She heard his exhalation of discontent, but she frankly did not care. Misappropriation of funds, she thought. Yeah, that has a nice ring to it.

“Come on, Lisa. Are you really going to split hairs like that?” he whined. “Aren’t we business partners in this whole breeding venture?”

It took all the control she could muster not to slam down the phone. Instead, she took a steadying breath before responding. “That didn’t give you the right to use Rhapsody for your cloning experiment without consulting with me first. But what’s done is done. Like I said, I’m not in the mood to discuss this right now. Goodbye.”

Lisa did not wait to hear Dan respond before she hung up the call.

Rachel, having awakened from her nap, was sitting at the breakfast nook in the kitchen, flipping through an old edition of the Hudson Times. When Lisa wandered in, Rachel glanced up and said, “Uh-oh. I know that look. Something’s got you mad.”

Lisa groaned. “Ugh. What tipped you off?”

Rachel smirked. “Yeah, see, there’s this vein that always pops out on your forehead whenever you blow a gasket,” she answered, motioning to her own head.

Grumbling, Lisa swiped a self-conscious hand over her face.

“Hey, it’s not like you get mad often, sis,” Rachel said, trying to lighten the mood. “It must be something big.”

Lisa plopped down wearily across from Rachel. “It’s Dan,” she began. “He’s gone and tried to clone one of my best racers—Fairfield Flyer—without even asking me, first.”

“Oh, wow. Is that even legal?” Rachel asked, folding the paper and putting it aside. “I’m not up on my horse cloning ethics.”

“It is legal,” Lisa said, “but it’s damned expensive, comes with a pile of risk factors, and the Racing Association has yet to accept clones in sanctioned races.”

“Didn’t I read something a couple years ago about clones being accepted for show jumping in the Olympics?” asked Rachel.

Lisa nodded. “Yes. The Fédération Equestre Internationale did announce clones could be entered for equestrian events. I still don’t know what Dan was thinking, though. Flyer is a racer, not a jumper, or dressage. It’s infuriating. And it’s not even about the ethics when it comes to cloning; it’s that Dan was hounding me for months to get Fairfield sold so we could get going on an operation out of Avignon.”

“Avignon?” repeated Rachel.

“Yes. You know I always wanted to retire to France, eventually.”

“Right...”

“Anyway,” Lisa continued, “I sold my share of the Dude Ranch back to Lou, and assumed those funds were going towards funding that Avignon operation. Obviously, Dan was funnelling all of it to help make the payments for the cloning procedure.” She let out another huff of frustration; Rachel eyed her with pity.

“C’mon, Lisa,” Rachel said after several moments of silence. “In the end, a horse is a horse, and we both know you love horses. When Rhapsody foals, you’re going to love that clone. So forget Dan, and focus on making sure Rhapsody stays healthy through the rest of the pregnancy.”

The words were like a thunderbolt, bringing a much-needed dose of reality. Lisa stared at Rachel for a few moments, speechless. “Are you sure you’re the younger sister, here?” she eventually asked with an affectionate smile and shake of her head. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“Oh, I have my moments,” Rachel answered airily.

“Well, I hope there’s more wisdom where that came from,” Lisa said, “because even though you’re right about loving it when it arrives, I get the feeling that clone is going to become more like a monkey on my back.”

--

Thanksgiving at Heartland was slightly less crowded than usual owing to the absences of Tim and Lou. Everyone was thankful for Jack’s surviving the heart attack and for Amy’s health and recovery after her recent scare with Zeus; Georgie was thankful in particular for her new family and for Phoenix.

At Fairfield, the celebration was slightly more subdued. Figuring this to be their final Thanksgiving together before the family farm passed into new hands, the Stillman sisters spent much of that holiday Monday* reminiscing about older, happier times, and some not-so-happy times, too.

“I used to love it when Aunt Evelyn would come to visit from wherever she had last been,” Lisa remarked as they sat together in the cozy living room, a roaring fire burning in the hearth.

“Remember her second husband?” Rachel snickered.

“Ah, yes. Uncle Merrill,” Lisa said. “With those massive sideburns we always wished he would shave off.”

“Where did she meet him, again?”

“Wales, I think,” Lisa replied. “But he was from Scotland.”

“He claimed he was some Scottish lord, right?” asked Rachel. “I seem to remember that.”

Lisa nodded seriously. “He apparently had the bank account to prove it, or so Aunt Evelyn told me.”

“Well, she was married to him the longest,” Rachel said.

“That’s true,” Lisa said, taking a sip of cider.

“Until he left her for a newer, younger model,” Rachel said.

“And she took him to the cleaners,” chortled Lisa. “Then promptly found herself another millionaire boyfriend.”

“That one didn’t last very long, did it?”

“Oh, a couple years, maybe? Then she had a few other gentlemen friends whose names I forget. Then she married Charles, the wealthy stockbroker from New York. They met on a cruise ship. Divorced him after five years.”

“Aunt Evelyn is addicted to men and to money,” Rachel said. “And I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

“Rachel, there is no nice way to call someone a gold digger,” Lisa said, a peal of laughter breaking forth.

“Ha! You said it; not me!”

“All right, Aunt Evelyn may have her... flaws... but she’s always been good to us,” Lisa said sincerely.

“Yeah... you’re right,” Rachel said. “Though you’re her favourite, you know.”

Lisa cocked her head and frowned at her sister, puzzled by this comment. “Naw. She totally spoiled us both. What d’you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing.” Rachel waved a hand dismissively. “I just got the feeling like she doted on you a little more. That’s all.”

“What? Why?”

Rachel stared at her older sister, considering for a few moments how to proceed. She blew out a breath and said, “Okay, remember that horse you had when we were kids? Silver?”

“Yes,” Lisa said, thinking of the dapple grey mare she got as a rescue. She put aside her mug, sensing Rachel was about to say something she had been wanting to say for a long time, but never had the chance to get it off her chest.

“I remember when Silver got sick a few years later,” Rachel said. “Dad didn’t think he could afford to pay for the surgery.”

“That’s right,” Lisa confirmed. “It was colic. Silver was getting old by that point, so Dad didn’t think the risk was worth it.”

“You know, I didn’t even have my own horse at the time, and Aunt Evelyn swooped in and said she’d pay for the surgery,” Rachel said, voice tainted with the slightest stain of bitterness. “You were seven when you got Silver. I remember, because I thought somehow that’s what I would get when I turned seven, too. Funny, isn’t it? We lived on a horse-breeding farm, and I didn’t get my own horse until I was ten.”

“Rachel, it’s a stupid question... did you even really want your own horse?” Lisa asked carefully.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Of course I wanted my own horse,” she said. “What little girl living in Hudson didn’t ‘want’ her own horse?”

“I know, but ‘wanting’ a horse isn’t the same as loving that horse when you finally get it, is it?”

Lisa thought back to when Rachel did receive her own horse the Christmas after she turned ten, a gift from Evelyn. In the beginning, the girl had been ecstatic, but the excitement had waned, and the horse was sometimes neglected.

“No, it isn’t the same thing,” admitted Rachel. “Look, I don’t mean to sound petty. At the time, I was jealous; I admit it. When I was younger, I thought Aunt Evelyn paying for Silver’s surgery when I didn’t even have my own horse meant she loved you more and was ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry, Rach,” Lisa said sincerely. “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“Like I said, I felt that way when I was younger. I thought having a horse would make me happy the way it seemed to make you happy; like it made other girls around town happy,” Rachel said. “It wasn’t until later I realised I wasn’t actually a horse-crazy girl like everyone else.”

“No, you were more boy-crazy,” Lisa said, a small smile twitching her lips.

“Ohhh, was I ever,” Rachel said, throwing back her head and casting her eyes to the ceiling.

“Do you ever regret leaving home when you did?” Lisa queried. “I mean, do you ever wish you had waited until you were a little more settled? Aunt Evelyn was willing to pay for your post-secondary education anywhere in the world like she did for me, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. And I keep saying that the timing was probably wrong,” Rachel said. “But I always come back to Ben. He’s the reason I don’t have regrets about that. I love my son more than my own life, Lisa. If I do regret anything is that his childhood probably wasn’t as happy as it could have been because of my stupid relationship mistakes.”

“Well, from what I can see, he’s grown into a fine young man, Rachel,” Lisa said, thinking of the rough patch Ben went through during Rachel’s train wreck of a divorce. “He’s learned some valuable life lessons and he’s working hard now to achieve his goals.”

“I admit I’m proud of him,” Rachel said with a smile. “I’m sorry again for dumping him on you—”

“Oh, stop!” Lisa put up a hand. “We’ve been over this a hundred times. Even though I could have done a better job when he was here, it made me realise raising a child isn’t a cakewalk.”

“No, but it is worth it,” Rachel said. “I look at Ben, and I think at least I did something right in the world.”

“Yeah...” Lisa said softly.

“He did appreciate his time here, Lisa,” Rachel said, getting an inkling of where Lisa’s thoughts might have carried her at that moment.

“I hope so,” Lisa uttered. “Though somehow, I think I acted a little more like Aunt Evelyn: dropping expensive gifts instead of making any meaningful impact on his life that would actually matter.”

“I don’t see it that way at all,” Rachel countered. “You give from the heart, Lisa. You’ve always been the generous type. And with Fairfield’s success came bigger ways to show that generosity. To be honest, I was a bit jealous of your giving nature, too.”

“And if I’m going to be honest, I was a bit jealous of you,” Lisa said seriously.

“Of me?” Rachel said, clearly shocked. “Whatever for?”

“You left home. Had a child. You... didn’t have the weight of responsibility for Fairfield that I had,” Lisa admitted. “I have loved building up the business into the success it is today, but I also thought kids would naturally come along when I was married to Dan. When that didn’t happen, I thought about you and how easy it seemed for you.”

“It wasn’t easy at all, especially when Gary walked out on us,” stated Rachel emphatically. “And I thought I’d have more kids too, when the ex-who-shall-not-be-named came into the picture and seemed like he’d be a great step-father to Ben. We all know how that turned out.”

Lisa bobbed her head slowly, knowing no further words were needed on the subject of the breakup of Rachel’s marriage.

At length, Rachel murmured: “I’m glad I came out here one last time. There was a time I couldn’t wait to leave; relieved you were the older daughter that Dad would look to for running the business. I don’t think I’ve ever truly appreciated how much of a burden you’ve shouldered.”

“We’ve both had our burdens and hardships,” Lisa said, looking at the glowing embers in the fireplace.

“I mean it, Lisa,” Rachel insisted. “Thank you for being there for Dad, and for running Fairfield all these years. It’s just a shame he didn’t live long enough to see the success it’s become.”

“A success that’s now coming to a close,” Lisa said quietly. “When I pick up stakes and move to Avignon, it’s going to be a whole new business.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Rachel commented. “You haven’t heard from Jack. You said it yourself that it’s time to make a fresh start.”

“I know,” Lisa said. “And you’re right. But being here in Hudson, well, it’s brought back a lot of memories with him. Good memories. It hurts to finally realise that there won’t be any more of those.”

“Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet a fine French gentleman in Avignon,” Rachel said with a mirthful chuckle.

“Oh, no! The last thing I need is to turn into Aunt Evelyn,” Lisa scoffed, chagrined at her sister’s comment. Her thoughts suddenly took her to Toulon and the foul experience she had with Alphonse. It struck her his marriage to the young Audrey had come and gone that spring, and their baby was probably due any time. I sure dodged a bullet with that one, she decided, even if my “friends” thought we would make a good match.

“You could never be like Aunt Evelyn,” Rachel said. “You’re not a gold-digger, and the money you’ve made came through hard work. And the money doesn’t really matter to you, either, does it?”

“I won’t lie,” Lisa replied. “The money matters, because I got to do things and go places I always dreamed of doing and seeing when I was a kid. But what’s money if you don’t have people you love to share it with?”

Rachel looked at her sister with sympathy. “You really did love him, didn’t you?”

Lisa returned Rachel’s glance. “With every fiber of my being. My whole world stopped when Lou told me about his heart attack. Nothing mattered after nearly losing him like that. I just wish I had the chance to tell him so.”

“Look, it’s not my place to tell you what to do or what not to do, Lis,” Rachel said. “But you’re here in Hudson now, and he’s here. This could be your last chance to tell him.”

A slight shiver ran down Lisa’s spine at the notion of facing Jack and baring her heart as she had tried so many months ago, when she made the horrible mistake of renting the hospital bed for him. “I already squandered that ‘last chance’, Rach,” Lisa said sadly. “It’ll take a miracle to convince Jack to see me again. I blew it, and now I’m paying the price.”

--

Thanksgiving dishes were washed and put away; night checks on the horses were finished; everyone was tucked away in bed. Jack, however, lingered by himself in the living room before the fire, sipping on a hot toddy. There was indeed much to be thankful for, he knew, particularly when it came to his own life. There’s much to regret, too, he thought, watching as the flames licked at the seasoned logs. While life moved on, his heart still pined for her. He was still stuck in a place of uncertainty and inaction; of wanting to reach out and of pulling back again. It’s been ten months. Lisa has moved on, surely. It would be wrong of me to call her now, after all that’s gone on between us, and mess up whatever it is she has going. I should be thankful we had whatever it is we had and let her go. With that, Jack pulled himself up from the couch, doused the fire, and crept into his bedroom. As he closed his eyes, his last thought before falling asleep was that given his angry parting words with Lisa, spoken in the heat of the moment, he was undeserving of a second chance with her. Nothing will ever bring us back together; that’s a bridge too far.

--

*To my non-Canadian readers: Thanksgiving in Canada is celebrated on the 2nd Monday of October.

TBC

[aliypop]

Empatia

Wordcount: 1,925

Character Count: 10,246

Hannibal x Oc

Authors Note: So this is my first Hannibal fic and I hope you guys enjoy, side note this was written in Grammarly which formatting on that is wonky. I do not own the gif or the character Hannibal but I do own Shanel Mahone and I hope that you all like her, lets see uh what else

Warning mentions of eating people and murder! 

"I think it's easy to mistake understanding for empathy - we want it so badly, maybe learning it's distinction is part of growing up, unless I am mistaken, Doctor Lecter,"

The Baltimore office was colder than usual, not because of the Maryland winters that would hit, but because of the shared time in the office between Hannibal Lecter and his new client Shanel Mahone, a woman who was a mix of a wolf licking its wounds and a lion who would go to the ends of the earth to hunt her prey down, But there was something about her that he could sense though she hid it so well that it went by his nose like a short summer breeze, He knew she was a lawyer he was able to smell the scent of the innocent and guilty from the courthouse on her person, though the sinners smell a bit more delectable to him rather than saints,

"If we learn our limitations too soon, we never learn our power." Hannibal gave the semi- young lawyer a smile and a nod, watching her in his darkroom of reds and white almost made him feel as if he had her right where he wanted her, a little lamb simply treading lightly in his trap, and in a way, he was proud of it,

"Think before you speak the last person who didn't... lost more than their tongue.."  Shanel chuckled, her dark curls framing her brown face and eyes.

"Awfully confident are we," a smirk on his wise features, as he stood up behind her, his favorite way to attack some would say like a human boa constrictor sizing up who he picks before he attacks,

"I can kill every person in this building before most of them have a chance to get to their feet. Skills like that do wonders on a person's self-confidence." her head tilted up to look at him, a devious smirk on her face, honey brown eyes meeting the dark maroon glare of a predator, Though most would fear the situation that she was in, however, she was raised much differently than some would be comfortable with,  

"Aren't you afraid of me," he asked his hand around her neck. Nearly trying to squeeze the life out of her. As he hissed in her ear breathing, in the deep scent of A+ blood on her, which clearly wasn't her own, "I stopped being scared of snakes years after I  killed my step-dad."  chin raised high with a fire in her eyes, one that he had grown to admire. Though it confused him like the beauty of Persephone in Hades eyes, and just like Hades he wanted her as his own, though sometimes she made him feel like Hades and other times he was merely just her pomegranate orchestrating him as to where her next demise would fall under, a circle of a cat and mouse game, Once he had looked deep into her eye's he had found the simple answer to her soul,

"I suppose that would make you the hunter," he said a sheer look of surprise something a bit unobtainable for the man who had a few under his own sleeve, "Are you satisfied," she asked her voice a soft whisper, a bit of a gentle to look to her one of a woman who knew how to spin a never-ending web around her prey and may God help anything that flew into her web,

"Oh, my dear, we're just getting started.." his laugh playing in her ear like a tainted sinners psalm, but deep inside she knew she loved it,

"Do you do this with all your clients?" she asked her feeling his hands unravel  from her neck,

"Just the ones I find interesting.."

"So Will Graham.," she mumbled watching him stagger swiftly back to his desk, his scalpel in hand massaging the cold silver metal in his hand as a child holds onto their mother's,

"You've heard of him, I assume?"

"He referred me to you, said you could work wonders on the mind, but I believe you toy with it, like a mother toys with the truth of the world to her child except you don't know where to end it.." she smirked standing behind the slightly taller man,

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you dabble in psychology yourself.." he faced the shorter woman her lips caught slightly between her teeth,

"Law and the practice of toying the mind go hand in hand, besides, in the end, we both want the same things," she took a glance at his suit the way he had unbuttoned his suit jacket as if he knew she was stealing glances of him,  

"And what would that be.." he laughed writing, notes from their shared time together. A bit of a progress report of her recovery from the first time they had met.  

"Sympathy"

"Perhaps we could discuss this more over dinner," he suggested pressing a slip of paper into her hand, she had always heard about his elaborate parties especially when it came to his dinners, it came to no surprise that she would be invited to one, and even perhaps another,

"Will 7 do?" she asked as he walked her to the office door, his eyes glancing at her heels, and further to her legs making him wonder what dish would suit her best,

The roads were barely frozen over yet which to her was always a good sign when traveling during the winter. Especially when it came to her pink Italian sports car sturdy tires still never meant one couldn't endure a crash, but while driving she had found that her mind went elsewhere, mostly on doctor Lecter. It was the way he had looked at her with a gentleness of contemplation on killing her if to even keep her alive, in a sense, it was like a non-verbal game of quid pro quo, but their eyes were telling the answers for them their true nature and love for the what some would find morbid.

Stepping foot into his home was like a wonderland for the wicked and the wise, pictures of art with very controversial themes to them, but still, she knew the risk she was taking with this one a chance that could possibly even kill her if she dared say the wrong thing, "Sorry if I arrived early, I usually love to help, a common curtsy I was taught.." she noticed his spacious kitchen one that you would see in an intense cooking show although his use of five ovens was a bit weird to her but not a new concept from what she grew up with,

"Thank you for your offer, but I've already prepared everything for our dinner." he looked at her noticing the diamonds on her neck which he could tell were from Tiffany and Co a sign of high society if he ever did so need one, she looked like an angel prepared to meet God himself, but little did she know he wasn't there, and she was no angel in the eyes of the man in front of her,

"Well, at least let me bake something.." she glanced at him pulling an apron out from her bag, his assumptions about her were right she was, in fact, gentle like Persephone but if pushed a bringer of chaos a chosen one of the all mighty high. He gave her a simple nod and with that, she was invited into his chapel his prized possession that was his kitchen.  

"Have you ever killed someone.. ever felt the life leave out of its pretty little body.. and looked into their soul?" she asked, feeling piping bag up squeezing the feeling into her batch of Zeppole di San Giuseppe,  

" I don't suppose I have, though, why do you ask?" he said as calmly as he could be, taking the main course for the night out of the oven his eyes never leaving her figure,

"Continuing our conversation from earlier doctor Lecter, of course, minus the near do strangling, though I must add.." she stopped to taste the sauce that was on his spoon "A bit of a parlor trick hiding who you are.." she pondered on the taste for a bit,

"Well, I always say perception’s a tool that's pointed on both ends," he winked placing his hand underneath her chin getting a glimpse of her inner beauty, the madness that she forbade to show to the world, which was him, at least he had thought he could be her world let her feel independent when she wanted to, but have her feel weak in his presence when he needed her to, much like a God watching his most devoted worshiper at the shrine of his lies.

"So, are you saying that I'm hiding something.."  her eyes focused on the slight detail of his lips the way they curled when he told the truth yet had a slight pout when he lied, she knew he was confessing to something she just couldn't figure out what it was exactly, but when she found it, it would be known, and she'd keep to herself as a little present. Hannibal pulled out her chair gesturing for her to sit setting the table up with the most elegant dinner she had ever seen since her very own childhood, but she did have to admit it a certain smell she couldn't quite shake it from her nostrils.  The animal on the plate, however, to most would seem unidentifiable and to most even a bit fake for fiction, but nonetheless, she was taught to never judge her food.  Hannibal sat there watching her eat his eyes sparkling almost like garnet jewels watching as he broadened her pallet,

" Tomato cream sauce with basil oregano one onion.. preferably diced, minced garlic heavy cream.." she took another bite, "A pinch of salt and pepper and ..." she paused dipping the meat into the oh so savory pasta sauce that he had created by hand, but the meat was something different. She couldn't taste the acidity of its fear, but she knew that whatever it was she had put in her mouth was a bit too familiar,

"You have a gift it appears.."

"I say it was a curse," she kept eating on the pork like meat, " I was born with highly sensitive taste buds... I can taste every detail of everything.." she shrugged watching the expression on Hannibal's face.

"Even, the taste of an emotion?" he asked, flattered by his guest.

"Even emotions.. though love was never one I discovered the taste of... I never found myself deserving of it.." she looked down at her plate then at him, her eyes soft and gentle towards him, "You could smear the blood of millions and still be a beauty to my eyes.." he placed a gentle kiss on the inside of her wrist secretly taking in her sweet smell of cinnamon, roses, and honey, it was the smell of love mixed with longing and it was strong. she laughed lifting the fork back to her mouth as the familiar scent had hit her again,

"I think I know who we're eating.."  her eyes twinkled at the taste of what was him, the man who was first to make her life a misery since the day she was born, "Alberto Mahone my father.." she grins,

"How'd you do it.."

"Do what ..."

"Kill him .." she asked her heart racing.

"With Empathy."

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

FIC: Surpassed All Men

She had first noticed something strange just before her 38th birthday, but Jo couldn’t ever have imagined what it would mean for her.

Leaning in the mirror one morning, she had been absolutely certain that the laugh lines beside her eyes were appearing smoother than they had in years, the crinkles less deep and the fine lines almost completely invisible. Jo had written it off purely on her trying a new moisturizer the week before that Ombre had brought back from her latest jaunt to Paris, and had instead brushed it aside in favor of chasing Billy and Fi downstairs for breakfast that sunny morning as a treat to celebrate the start of middle school for Billy.

The next time was the evening of her 40th birthday, where she found the lack of silvers in her hair and the fact she looked brighter eyed and bushier tailed than she had since before the kids were born - all three of them - to be exceedingly perplexing as she’d lent a hand on the ornate wall mirror in their bedroom while Grey’s lips were fastened at her neck and his hands slowly drew the zip on the back of her dress down. She’d even voiced the oddity of it, saying quietly “I’m lookin’ pretty good for forty, aren’t I?” but the other merely chuckled and spent the rest of the night whispering gently against her skin just how good he thought she looked.

Seven years later, Jo thought about it again as she helped her daughter fasten the back of her dress tightly - a small shock rocking through her as she realized her baby girl was almost an adult. Turning eighteen this year and all, and wearing heels that made her even taller than her mother ready to run downstairs to go to the long-standing tradition of teenagers of Prom, with the small group of girls she sometimes spent time with at school. Fiona was looking so nervous and young, and giving her daughter a tight hug, Jo moved the last bit of her hair back into place as there was the sound of the doorbell ringing, and Grey shouting up that he needed to take a picture or fifty before Fi left with her friends. Jo laughed as their daughter scurried downstairs, looking every bit the young lady she’d grown into, but as Jo started packing away the makeup and hairstyling equipment she’d helped dress her girl up with, she found herself frowning at how unaged her hands looked for a woman with her youngest child almost grown. And there wasn’t any moisturizer to blame it on this time.

But she didn’t have the chance to ponder too long on it though - the years between with kidnapping and stress, with chasing after her lost lambs (all three of them at their own times), with phone calls and research, with her working longer and longer hours in the library above the bar rather than out on the road, and with more and more new hunters filtering through and calling on her first and foremost. The first time she heard Jake laugh and describe her as the Hunting Goddess he prayed to whenever he got caught in a bind, Jo had laughed just as hard herself; and when she got a denim jacket with it embroidered as a gift from some of the older hunting kids-turned-adults lead by Krissy Chambers and her girlfriend Josephine for her 50th, she’d found it all the funnier.

Her thoughts didn’t start catching up to her until she was zipping the exact same dress from fifteen years earlier up as Grey fixed his tie and went to fetch her almost-vintage necklace that Jo found herself frozen to the spot in fear. Rooted in the very spot before the mirror that she had looked in and noticed she looked great for forty, and now was seeing that she looked even better at fifty-five than she had then. She found herself staring, eyes wide and frightened, drinking in the lack of lines that should have surrounded her eyes and tugged from her lips; the lack of greys throughout her hair when even Sam who was younger than her had truly entered an equal measure of salt-and-pepper to his own hair; the way her skin didn’t sag and had no signs of sunspots or wear from long nights, raising two children, hunting for decades and just general aging. That she looked barely a day over a very good thirty-five shook her to her core, and when Grey came over to drape the chain around her neck, their dinner plans were canceled immediately as Jo found herself sobbing against his chest.

---

“This had better be important, gorgeous, cause you know I'm a very busy man.” Gabe found himself saying immediately as he appeared, lounging in a way the projected carelessness and a display of the debauchery the quiet, panicked prayer had called him away from, in the largest chair available in the room. It took a lot of planning and thought to make sure to land reclined and relaxed the way that he did right then, pointing towards the space he knew she was standing in before he’d even appeared with the Snickers bar he was enjoying before she’d called for him. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite person, Jo, or I’d be very annoyed.”

“Gabe. Look at me.” The blonde’s voice was tight and a little bit shrill, especially for someone who every time he’d seen her over the years was always ready for a laugh. Gabe blinked in confusion, tilting his head towards her as he took another bite from his candy bar. “Not like that, you fuckin’ - please, can you... Look at me.”

“Beautiful, I don’t know what you mean at all.” “For fuck's sake, can you make sure I don’t still have any of it?” “Any what?” “The fuckin’ shit that made Fi, you fuckface!”

“Well that’s not very polite, you want to try that again?” Gabe found himself frowning a little - his skin crawling that he felt the small spike of anger at being spoken to as the little hunter was, but also that he was feeling slighted by it at all in a way he hated to feel happen - as he sat up a little straighter and watched the pacing blonde. “You’d like me to...” He spoke softly and directing, waving his hand as if to draw the rest of the words out from the other.

Jo gave a loud sounding groan, and he almost laughed watching as she tugged at the roots of her hair for a moment before she spun to face him and snapped out through gritted teeth. “I’d like you to make sure there isn’t any angelic mojo still in me.”

“Why though? I checked it when your little bundle of joy - by the way, how is she going these days? - came out.” Gabe quirked an eyebrow up at the other for a moment, confused. 

It had been one of the most concerning times of his long existence, in a way, back then. That he’d felt the disturbance some quarter of a century or so earlier in the flare of power that he’d known to be one angel, and one angel only, sent a chill of fear down his spine to sense. He’d waited all of thirty minutes before he snapped where it had come from and had been horrified to realize he’d been at the perky, blonde hunter’s kitchen just in time for breakfast and still surrounded by the overwhelming power burst around them. It had been even more horrifying than the idea that the Cage had been opened to find out exactly had caused it instead.

He’d barely strayed from the area for the whole time. The constant shifts of power distracting whenever he left the area, and the fears some other member of the Host might come down to investigate had found him setting up his own entertaining shop in the nicest hotel in the city to keep an eye - out of sight and without the hunter or her monster’s knowledge though - on the situation. That Jo had told him, through tears and a bottle of Jack that Gabe had zapped the alcohol out of, the details of her resurrection and the horrific plans that could have occurred had added to his desire to stay close by. The only advantage to popping in so regularly had been the baked goods from a cranky pregnant lady with an obsession for chocolate and strawberries. The day the little girl had been born, Gabe had come to check on mother and daughter alike and confirmed that all that energy had exhausted itself out of her.

That Jo didn’t trust his determination at the time felt somewhat insulting, but the terror he caught in her eyes was chilling enough to excuse it for the time being.

“Fine, gorgeous, come here then will you.” Gabe shifted slightly, and as the blonde approached, his lips quirked up in a smile as he patted his thigh cheekily. “Let’s get a look at you then.” He patted his knee again, raising a brow at her and hoping that the playful antics might help soothe whatever was causing the uncharacteristic seriousness. It hadn’t been so long since he last saw her that Jo should have lost her sense of humor, or at least he didn’t think so.

There was a beat of silence before the archangel let out a noiseless sigh of relief at the bright laugh his actions got out of the other. “Only for you, Gabe,” Jo replied, voice tinged with amusement under the stress, as she moved towards him and actually complied with his joke to perch on his lap with a tight laugh of her joke of her own. “Now, Santa, can you take a looksy?”

“Right away, you just tell me if you’ve been a good or a bad girl this year, yeah?” He quipped back, a hand going to support her back before he shook his head free of his playful behavior and focused on her actual request. Jo looked fine, so far as he could tell just looking at her - she looked exactly as he always pictured her, bright and happy over that undercurrent of fear - but as he leaned closer he suddenly realized exactly how frightening that could be. She looked exactly as she’d always looked. Not a single difference from over thirty years, from that bar in New Orleans where she’d laughed at him and batted her lashes a little too much. “What the-”

“I fuckin’ know, Gabe!” The shrill tone was back, but this time it didn’t bother him any as he felt a little like being shrill himself. This shouldn’t be happening, and that her first thought was in fear about that horrific plan still being in place and waiting to let her be prepared to pop out some abominations well into her twilight years made his stomach churn the number of sweets inside harshly. “Am I-?”

“It’s... it’s not that.” He replied gently, thumb rubbing at the base of her spine as he tilted his head and looked deeper. None of that angelic trace was still in her, just as there hadn’t been the moment her daughter was born - the daughter she looked like she could almost be the older sister of. There was no sign of any Grace running under her skin, nothing at all like that. The relief in him was palpable at it, but that didn’t answer at all what was occurring to her. “Don’t worry, Jo, that’s all gone still.”

“Well then what on earth could it be?” “I’m still looking, you impatient brat.” “Look quicker then.”

Gabe huffed a laugh at that, feeling the way the tension in her seemed to release immediately at his confirmation, but there was still something wholly unsettling about the situation. This was unnatural whatever it was, and leaning closer, he gave a quiet sigh looking up at the other in concern.

“Now, Jo, I promise I’m not trying to cop a feel what with your still being a very gorgeous MILF - but I’m going to need to, uh, check your soul.” The archangel spoke calmly as he realized whatever was going on was deeper than the shallow level he could sense at it was, and as Jo gave him an incredulous look and then a short nod, he sucked in his own calming breath before he rolled up his sleeve and gently pressed the hand against and into her chest.

The moment his fingers grazed it - not her soul exactly, because that wasn’t what it was anymore - he knew that somehow something miraculous had started. And that was when the screaming started.

---

“A what now?” The quiver in his voice cut her to the core as she stayed exactly where she had laid herself out as soon as she had been alone after Gabriel had left.

It had been a full day since she’d found out the cause of her mysterious age-defying. Or rather, that there was a cause but one not so easily explained as to say it was this or that entirely. A somewhat of an explanation, but more so a promise to return with an answer as soon as he could; and where usually where such a promise from the archangel-trickster would be taken with a grain of salt, the serious tone and the concerned look he had delivered her had settled her frayed nerves after the achingly painful experience of whatever he had done to her. It had felt like someone had touched her very core and no matter how prepared or gentle the archangel had been, it had hurt more deeply than anything else she’d ever felt. Like a complete rejection of the invasion.

Jo had stayed laid out on the couch all afternoon and all night. She hadn’t made a move to get up that morning so far, and she should have remembered that Grey was due home sooner rather than later but after the blinding pain she’d not remembered much of anything other than that she never wanted to feel it again.

“He doesn’t know for sure.” Jo returned with a sigh, stifling a yawn as she finally pushed herself to sit up with what would have been a crack of her back if she really was as old as she was. Instead, she barely felt a small crick in her neck despite laying stationary for twenty-four hours. 

“But he said something about a god?” Grey’s voice was still sharply tinged with concern and fear, the same it was every time the concept of the beings of faith were brought up. A fear Jo knew she should have, but had been unable to muster herself before now - and even less so now. “As in, there’s a god involved in whatever has happened to you? Which... Why would... Jo, what?”

“I don’t know, hun. I don’t know.” “But you have to know! I thought you’d just won some more or something, I didn’t realize-” “If I had done that, I’d have told you like last time.”

“Sure, but that doesn’t change the fact some god is fucking with you, Jo!” Grey’s voice was harsh and panicked, and Jo shifted to lean into his side with a quiet sigh as she could see his hands turning over and over to wrap about his wrists, tugging at the cuffs of his hoodie nervously. “Is it that voodoo lady?”

“If it was her, she’d have sent me somethin’ tellin’ me, hun,” Jo replied as calmly as possible, blinking in surprise when she realized his fears and anxiety seemed to have completely lifted her own off of her shoulders as if he’d absorbed it all for the both of them. Giving a quiet laugh, she leaned in closer and bumped her forehead against his own gently, eyes closed and lips tugging into a tiny smile. “I don’t... I don’t know what it could be, but I trust that Gabe’ll find out what and it’ll all be fine.”

“Oh sure, trust the freaking angel of all things!” “Grey!” “You and I both know your track record with angels is fucking shoddy, Jo, and you’re saying to just trust that this one has your back?! That he’s going to have your best interests in mind? That he’s not going to go get bored or distracted or run off to have a gay old party with some pagan piece’a shit rather than find out what is happening to you?!”

Jo bit her lip as Grey’d jerked himself upright, working himself further up as he paced across the space between the coffee table and the wood fire. Over the years they’d been in the house - shortly before Fi was born - she had been surprised over and over that stretch of the floor hadn’t given way from the number of times she’d watched him pace that exact same line. Back and forth, arms flung wide and teeth clicking around certain words as he got more and more frustrated at the situation. Watching quietly, Jo let out a silent sigh as she waited for the moment he would reach the end of his rant and then ask the inevitable calm question that he always did - never the same question, but always something that calmed his fire right down as soon as he’d asked it.

“Okay, fine, so we wait for the angel, fine. But what exactly did he say to you, Jo?” Grey’s voice was soft and cracked, and Jo couldn’t help but feel blessed that both Fi and Billy had moved out over the last few years so she wouldn’t need to worry they might overhear something they shouldn’t. “What did he say?”

Shaking her head and rubbing at her temples, Jo tried to recall the exact phrasing that the other had said to her during those head thumping moments after he’d stopped whatever it was he’d done and her mind was still screaming at her in pain beyond any she’d had before. Her eyes closed and laying back face down on the couch, Jo slowly let out her breath before she could think any clearer.

“He said.. it felt like a god.” “What felt like a god?” “My soul. He said that.. something about a god was on it, or in it, I’m not sure.”

“He..said your soul was touched by a god?” Grey’s question sounded uncertain and uncomfortable, and Jo wasn’t surprised at all to hear his feet pad across the floorboards and then the dip of the couch beside her before the comforting feel of a hand ran through her hair. “Is that what he said?”

“No. He said it felt like a god.” She repeated the words again, curling in on herself and tilting her head up into his touch with a sigh. The world could collapse around her right then and there, and none of it would matter so long as his hand continued to stroke through her hair and calm her like that. 

“It.. felt like a god?” Grey repeated to himself quietly, the curiosity and a tiny slice of fear worked it’s way into his tone as Jo nodded her head and shuffled forward a little to rest her head in his lap. “Like.. it is a god?”

It sounded strange in his tone, but she was too tired to care or take in what words he was stating right then. Her last few days had been too stressful to think on much, and as she curled closer and slowly relaxed into his touch, she didn’t think much on how she could hear the faintest voice sounding very, very far away whispering her name before she finally fell to sleep for the first time since her disastrous birthday.

---

[notameeksassenach]

Unexpected Liaisons

After a rather emotional week I am ready for the weekend. Let’s get it started out right with a new fic!

For those that are curious, this story was born after listening to IDGAF by The Animal in Me on repeat for DAYS!

Huge thanks to @smoakingwaffles​ who, as always, is an amazing beta. And to the lovely @katnoenau​ who always challenges me to think outside the box. Parts of this story wouldn’t exist without her guidance!

Claire Beauchamp’s life was never filled with constants. From the early age of five, her life was fluid, always changing. She could barely remember what it was like to have a home, a place to call her own. Once her parents were taken from her, that sense of belonging was ripped from her grasp.

She grew up on the move: going from one archeological dig to another, under the care of her dear Uncle Lamb. They were always chasing one adventure after the other, never in one place for very long. 

Maybe that was why the idea of Frank comforted her so. She had finally found something stable. He was attractive, smart, and level-headed. He could protect her, give her the life she desired. He was safe. After searching for those things for so long, it was almost as if she had finally found what she thought she needed.

At least until last week.

Claire had wanted to surprise Frank. It was their anniversary and she was going to take him out to lunch to celebrate. She knew his class schedule and he would have a couple of hours where he could break away from the stuffy Oxford campus to join her. What Claire hadn’t taken into consideration, was that Frank would be otherwise occupied upon her arrival. She could hear him talking to someone, a student she assumed, and sat herself on a bench outside his office to wait. Checking her watch to keep a close eye on the time, she noticed that she could no longer hear the muffled sounds of discussion inside Frank’s office. Maybe the student had used another exit, and Frank was now available. Reaching for the door, she carefully turned the knob and made her way into the office.

If you had asked Claire this morning what she expected her day to consist of, this would have never made the list. Frank, her Frank, was completely naked with a tiny, blonde student, also naked, bent over his desk in front of him. While finding Frank in such a position was enough of a shock, what she wasn’t prepared for was that the student was in fact male. In all the years that she had known Frank, he had never shown any indication that he had other preferences.

It was merely seconds, but if felt like forever as Claire tried to make sense of the scene in front of her. Her mind was racing, affecting her ability to form words, or even leave the office. When her body finally caught up with her mind, she tried to make a hasty retreat. The noise that resulted from her faltering steps was enough to break Frank’s concentration, causing him to look up and finally notice Claire.

She was gone before he had a chance to remark on her presence.

It was a miracle that the floor of their living room wasn’t worn through. Claire had been pacing since she had returned home. Question after question ran through her mind.

Who was that man? How long had it been going on? What did he do for Frank that she could not? Did Frank really think that he could get away with this? Did he think she would be able to move past this indiscretion?

While she didn’t have the answers to those questions, she had made up her mind that she was not going to be staying with him any longer. She was done being the good fiancé. He had made his bed and now he needed to sleep in it.

Packing what few personal items she had contributed to the home they had made together was a much easier task than she had first thought. Never one to accumulate much in the way of unnecessary belongings, any trace of Claire Beauchamp was removed as if she had never existed.

Would Frank even notice when she was gone?

And with that one last thought, Claire braced herself for the confrontation that was sure to come.

“Claire, please,” he pleaded, “You told me once that you didn’t know what you’d do without me.”

“Are you asking me what I am going to do without you, Frank? Honestly, it’s not really anything you need concern yourself with.”

“Shouldn’t be concerned? Claire, I love you.”

“I don’t need your love. It’s too late now.”

“Please, I’m begging you to see reason.”

“Save it, Fra-”

“But Claire,” he interrupted, dropping to his knees.

“Good God Frank! Do you hear yourself? Just … shut up!”

“Don’t you care about me? About us?”

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Get off your knees. If you think I care about you now, you’re mistaken. As a matter of fact Frank, I don’t give a fuck.”

Trying to save what little dignity he had left, Frank got up from his knees, and straightened himself.

“So this is it then?”

“I’m done, Frank.”

“Have it your way Claire.”

As Claire gathered her belongings, she could have sworn she heard Frank mutter, “Woe betide the man that stands between you and what you set your mind upon.”

Nestled at the end of the last booth, with a steaming mug of black coffee in hand, Claire felt like the weight of the world had finally been lifted from her shoulders. Frank was gone. While she felt betrayed over the infidelity, she couldn’t bring herself to be heartbroken that their relationship had ended. There was no spark, nothing that took her breath away. The only thing Claire felt that she had truly lost was the stability of being in a relationship. This was nothing new, she had overcome this before and given time, she would do it yet again. She could live without him. He was never a part of her.

Bringing the mug to her lips, she surveyed the patrons of The World’s End Diner. A group of inebriated girls in the corner, recovering from a night of celebrating the impending nuptials of their friend, sporting “I’m With the Bride” sashes. Some university students refueling mind and body for an all night cram session. And at the counter, sat someone who caught Claire’s eye.

It was the hair that she noticed first, fiery red, slightly curled at the ends. He was nursing his own coffee. Draining the mug, he looked up in search of the waitress. Claire didn’t realize that she was staring, until his eyes caught hers, causing her to blush and drop her gaze.

Afraid to look up, she busied herself with studying the design of the empty mug before her. She did not realize that she had company until she heard the Scottish accent summon the waitress as he slid into the booth opposite her.

“Two coffees if ye dinna mind.”

[wholockedcumberwumber]

Sweetwater Runs Deep ~ An AU Riverdale/Southside Serpents Fan Fic

Lucy Collins had Been Living in Riverdale for almost six months her Housemate was a waitress at Pop's Diner. Lucy was alone in the house and it was Saturday morning and she decided to see if there were any horses on the neighboring farm. Celeste, her half brother's friend was still training her Puppy. So Lucy was afraid to get horses for their farm that riding was one of the few pleasant memories she had of Collinsport after her Mother's Death. 

So she was wondering, on a warm day in mid-February, she had been walking for 45 minutes when she saw two horses near a fence. "They remind me of my horses." she got closer "Countess? Simeon?" she waved to the man standing nearby "Sir, would mind answering a few questions?" he nodded "where did these horses come from and do they have names?"

the older man smiled "Young Man who moved here from Maine about 7 months ago brought them with him. he didn't have a place to house them and he only asked me not change the names. He said their names are Countess and Simeon." 

Lucy leaned against the fence, there was only one person who would bring her horses with him after Leaving Collinsport but that was too much to believe. "He may be someone i knew before coming here. Sir, i believe these were my horses is it okay if i come back tomorrow to ride them. i can help pay for feed." the horses nuzzled against her "If i am right i was in the barn when they were born. and i named them."

It was probably too much to hope that the person who brought them was the same person her father had forced to leave Collinwood. *It can't be Declan. if it is then it wasn't my imagination that i saw someone with the serpents who looked like Declan."

the man looked at her "Yes and that's not necessary the young man pays for their supplies. Would you care for a drink? My name is Paul." 

"It would be my pleasure and my Name is Lucy Jones-Collins. my full name is a lot longer a little more pretentious i prefer Lucy." after spending time with Countess and Simeon she went back to the house and thought back on the night of the Valentine Dance, four days before. She Had seen the Serpents hanging out outside and she thought she had seen Declan there

Wednesday, February 14th, 2018 

 Northside High School School Cafeteria lunchtime. “Smeg, i forgot to ask Jughead if i could sit with him at lunch,” she mumbled to herself she looked at the menu for that day she had been ignoring the posters for the school dance.  "I will have a spinach salad and a piece of baked chicken and a Pepsi. please,“ she told the school cafeteria chef when it was her turn

She always felt like the chef was staring at her when she would ask for Pepsi with healthy meals. but water didn’t sound good and orange juice didn’t taste good with salad.

She looked at her phone “Dang the school dance is tonight. and i don’t really want to go.” she sighed “But how am i supposed to meet people?”

that night at the school dance, more specifically outside the school “Lu! I am taking Betty back to the trailer park for late night cookout wanna come?” Jughead asked

“Are you sure?” 

“You are family come on. Fang let her ride in your sidecar.”

FP looked at them “Never mind Fang.  she’s my blood she will ride with me in my truck. No offering alcohol to her she’s only 15.” 

End Flashback..

Valentine's Day Came and Went and now it was nearly Independence Day and Lucy was 16,   Her uncle Gabriel had ended up In Jail after trying to attack her on Serpents territory. and she was now a Serpent Girl.  Declan parked his Motorcycle in front of her house "I am glad you stopped Whistling like guys from 1950s." she said as she walked up and kissed him 

Declan "My 17th BIrthday is on the Third and Serpents are having a party at the Wyrm." he said. Lucy woke up from a dead sleep crying. Declan had been killed inin fight between the ghoulies and the serpents.it had been almost two months since Declan had been killed and Fangs had been there for her. He had also accepted that it would take time before she felt like being more than friends

“Lucy, I know it’s not much of comfort. But he always talked about you. before he knew you were in Riverdale.” Fangs said as he sat next to her "He wanted to become a person who felt like he could be worthy of you." Fangs had been assigned to stay with her that day because the Serpents were taking turns.

 "I know Fangs. I am just glad he got to celebrate his 17th Birthday before he died. Declan was hte only Friend i Had in Collinsport." she looked down "IN Unity there is is strength. I think that is why he joined The Seprents for himself not for me.  In Collinsport he was always the strange son of the horse breeder."   she rested her head on his shoulder "I am hungry. Can you take me to Pop's?" 

He smiled "Sure. i will buy." this was hte first time in weeks she had wanted to go outside. School was starting soon.  the fight between the Ghoulies and The Serpents had happened o nthe 4th of july and it had taken a few minutes for Sherrif Keller to figure out it was gunshots and not just fireworks he was hearing.   "It;s been raining so it's kind of shilly outside." he handed her a hat.

Five Months Later.... Another Valentines day was approaching and lucy finally felt like moving on but she wasn't sure if te person she wanted to take her to dance would be willing to take her.  It was saturday afternoon and Fangs was woking at Pop's so Lucy had been sitting on his porch reading while waitign for him to get home. when he walked up it had nearly startled her.

"Lulu, what are you doing here?" 

She took a deep breath "Fangs will you go to the Valentine's dance at Northside High with me?"

He laughed "I was goign to ask you to the dance." he helps her stand up "I got paid so i bought some dinner on the way home." they go in. "I can't dance very well."

"i can teach you." she said 

"I guess this will be our first date." he said with smile as he took of his jacket and hung it next to the door. "Mom's working late tonight."

"I am guessing it is your turn to clean i can stay and help you. since you've been working all day." she said smiling after they finished eating she cleans the kitchen and he puts away the laundry.

She follows him to his room to watch him put away his laundry and when he sees her casually lean against his door frame. "I know the School dance is our first date. but I've been wanting to do this since i met you." he sit the basket on his bed and goes over and kisses her. he had expected her to pull away from him but her body leaned into his fitting with him perfectly.

"The school therapist said if i can make it through telling story about Declan without crying." she sits in his desk chair and tells him about she first became friends with Declan. "I think even if we had only been high school sweet hearts he would have stayed in my life." Fangs squeezed her hand "I am ready to move on with you Fangs. You never answered my Question i know Fangs is a nick name."

"It is Galen Hannibal Fogarty. Mom's Favorite Movie is Silence of the Lambs" he said already knowing what she was about to ask. It was always an unspoken rule that unless it was necessary they would never speak their real names.

"Galen is one of my favorite Names," she said cuddling against him

The End