#i’m nearly finished with the next dru chapter

[merakiui]

[this is not about dottore i'm so sorry]

hey mera!!! hope you're well :D my neighborhood's power went out at midnight exactly, and the first thing i thought of was serial killer jade!

[cw up ahead for some violence!]

eventually my thoughts sorta came together with this semi fleshed-out concept of skj's darling's place having a blackout, and poor [unfortunate] darling being understandably a little spooked about it (Riddle had warned you previously about a serial killer that was in the area, but that shouldn't affect you, right...?) Maybe since it's still early in the night, you should be fine if you take a quick walk, right?

But when you get back to the apartment, alarm bells are ringing in your head that something isn't quite right. Perhaps it's how your key slid in the lock easier than usual [did the maintenance guys actually fix your lock?], or just how the darkness seems to loom over you, or maybe it's just the way that the matches weren't in their usual place and instead scattered all over the counter.

When the emergency candles finally get lit, you see instantly that something is very, very wrong. An extra pair of shoes are at your door, nondescript in style and neatly tucked next to where yours are. There was someone in your apartment. The candle flickers brightly in your hand as you begin to frantically think through what your next steps should be, and a cold sweat started up when the gravity of the situation began to truly set in.

You shoved your shoes on, setting the candle down to do so, and grab the doorknob, aiming to bolt out of there as fast as you can. Your hand gripped hard around the doorknob and twisted, pulling your arm in an attempt to fling yourself out of the invaded apartment. The knob didn't move - it was as though your hands were covered in lotion or grease or something, and couldn't grip it properly. You bend back down, closer to the candlelight, and your hand shone slick with oil.

Whoever was in your apartment had greased the doorknob so you couldn't leave as easily.

This felt planned. Like someone had fully planned around letting you struggle to leave the apartment instead of instantly making themself known and attacking you outright. The realization made you feel ill; someone had been watching you this whole time, watching you enter your apartment, watching you freak out over the realization that you're not alone - hell, they probably were the one who put the matches all over the countertops - and now they're probably watching you now, being unable to leave by your own door.

You reached for the doorknob after wiping your hand to try again, and this time the knob started turning. you yanked on the door, praying that you're fast enough, until a large bang! startled your already anxious mind. a gloved hand held the door shut firmly - you hadn't even heard the invader approach. in the dim candlelight, your gaze travelled from the gloved hand, to the nicely fitted jacket sleeve, to two mismatched eyes that glinted with every flicker of fire.

"Hello." The man said, his face curling up in a cold approximation of a smile. "My name is Jade. If you don't want anything... drastic to happen on this calm evening, I would suggest for you to be quiet."

Omg losing power at exactly midnight feels like such a spooky omen… perfect hunting time for mr. jade leech mwahah >:) I hope the power turned back on quickly!

AND YOUR THOUGHTS OMG AAAAA THIS IS SO GOOD!!! He’s terrifying and I love that about him. 😌 poor darling… first the power goes out and now you come face to face with the very killer Riddle warned you about. I can’t help but wonder what might happen if Riddle decided to pay you a visit because he’s so worried about you (and because he brought spare lights/candles and snacks and omg this man cares about you so much) and Riddle’s on the other side of that door, wondering why you aren’t answering even after he’s knocked several times and has announced his presence.

The visual of Jade leaning over you to hold your front door shut is so good. He doesn’t even have to break a sweat because you won’t struggle (if you know what’s best) and if you do he’s strong enough to keep it shut.

Aaaa Jade my most beloved. <3 lately I’ve been wondering how different things might be if someone else took on the role of killer. I imagine the motives would be different!

Jade -> eating delicious (human-based) meals and his sights have been on you for a while now.

Floyd -> you’re his current interest and he’ll probably kill you once he grows bored of you, so it’s your job to keep him entertained so that you can stay alive.

Azul -> he wouldn’t dream of hurting or even killing you. Great Seven, no! But if you hurt him in some way (like… cheating on him in the relationship that he thought was so sweet and true) it’s only fair if he doles out equal pain in return. (He’s terribly unhinged as a scorned ex.) Though I do like the idea of chronically online Azul who stalks his favorite influencer or content creator with a small following. It’s an obsession born from extreme jealousy and hate because you’re doing so well in your career and he can’t stand (what he believes is) blatant ‘pretty privilege,’ but his negative feelings are soon brightened when he sees you’re not as perfect as he once thought you are. Aaaa so many thoughts… orz

But Azul and Floyd just can’t match Jade’s level of cold detachment. <3 only our dear mushroom-loving eel can pull that off. He’s the most dangerous of the trio for a reason hehe.

[amchara]

Talking Bodies - Kit/Ty/OFC fic (Explicit, 1/5)

Ty has been observing their friend Ellie during her unexpected stay at the Herondale townhouse and believes he has found a solution to her problems - or at least, her problems with men. And Kit is usually up for his plans, even if this one is a bit unorthodox.

Yes, this is an Kit / Ty / OFC fic, set five years post-The Wicked Powers, while Kit and Ty are living and working in London. Ty POV. Part of my London Files ‘verse but you don’t need to have read them to read this mostly pwp story ;) Ellie is a school friend of Kit’s and has been in other stories of mine - and if you like the idea of Mari the werewolf, maybe you’d like this story? 😊)

While this chapter and the next don’t have any actual sex in it (talking and consent is important, yo) be forewarned, it’s going to get smutty from chapter three onwards, so has an overall explicit rating. Those chapters will not be posted on tumblr but will be linked to Ao3. Thanks to @dontmindmyshadowhunting for the feedback on the story so far!

Chapter One: Talking Bodies

Ty was again mulling over a problem that had been nagging at him for several months now. A problem that had just entered the kitchen from the downstairs flat that had previously been used as the servants’ quarters in the Herondale townhouse, and was padding across the cold floor in fluffy pink slippers. And hadn’t yet noticed him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Ty!” Ellie yelped, as she turned around from where she had put on the coffeemaker. “Where the hell did you come from?”

“Upstairs,” Ty shrugged, as he sat down at the table, watching her carefully. As she finally took in what he was wearing- or wasn’t wearing, as was his case, being only clothed from the waist down. He watched as her eyes surreptitiously lingered over his shoulders and trailed down further. He lifted his arms up, in a casual move he knew showed off several muscle groups in his upper chest and her jaw moved slightly as she swallowed, trying to remain casual. Ty took another couple mental notes.

Ellie noticed his gaze and she quickly looked away, stretching for the laundry basket and launched something at him.

He grabbed the soft t-shirt - one of Kit’s - out of the air before it could hit his face.

“Put on a shirt, you’re blinding me with that glow-in-the-dark chest,” she scowled as she busied herself with putting on the kettle. But her voice held that tone that after three months of living under the same roof, Ty knew didn't actually mean she was annoyed. Well, fairly sure- but as he had confirmed the reaction he expected, he pulled on the t-shirt, just as he saw Kit come into the kitchen, all sweaty and flushed after his morning run.

“Pretty sure that’s one of mine, Ty,” he said affectionately, coming over to give him a light kiss on the mouth. “But it looks good on you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ty could see Ellie’s eyes snapping back to them, almost unwillingly.

“Ellie’s request,” Ty said.

Kit looked over to her. “Oh- and what pray tell, is your reason for protecting his modesty? From one of your conquests?” he teased, his eyes flickering to the open door downstairs.

“Yeah, that’s it,” she replied, a fleeting smile crossing her face. “I’m used to the Shadowhunter genes but I’m worried my one night stands might find Ty irresistible and decide to use me as an excuse to see him again, and no one wants that, believe me.” Her voice was light but Ty could see a small crease form on Kit’s brow, and Ty thought he was also recalling the incident from a few nights ago when Ellie had ejected an angry, drunk Irish guy from her bedroom and Kit and Ty had had to escort him out the front door.

But Ellie had already apologised profusely the morning after and Kit wasn’t about to give his friend more grief about it. “Very noble of you,” he said, winking at Ty. “I’d hate to add more bloodstains to my clothes defending Ty’s honour.”

He sauntered over to the counter, his face brightening as he saw the coffeemaker light go off. “Ah coffee- my love,” he stopped short as Ellie poked him in the stomach. Ty straightened up to watch the interaction.

Her eyes were glittering as she held her hand out in front of the pot. “I made this for myself, angel boy- get your own.” Kit bent his head down, close to her face, giving her his sweetest smile. “Yeah, but you’re not about to drink it all,” he said, in a wheedling tone.

“Oi- your Herondale charm does not work on me,” she informed him but Ty could see her smile widening and her breathing had sped up, just a touch and he wished he had his notebook out. But he couldn’t risk it and so he turned his attention instead to Kit’s reaction.

Kit had grabbed a coffee mug and was feinting, trying to get around as Ellie - who had been to the Academy, even if she had dropped out - put up a good defensive shield.

Despite that, they all knew Kit could have easily gotten around her, if he wanted to. He instead put down the coffee mug and grabbed her in a big hug, squishing her close to him.

“Oh my god, you smell,” she complained.

“Pour me a mug and I’ll go away,” he said, looking over to grin at Ty, who just smiled and shook his head. Originally, it had been an unwanted addition to his and Kit’s routine but now he was used to their occasional morning antics. Although they had been few and far between recently, as Ellie had retreated downstairs more often. And it did kind of remind him of chaotic mornings at the L.A. Institute.

“Go shower and I’ll put another pot on for you,” she countered.

“Deal,” Kit said, instantly letting go, although Ty could see how he subtly moved his eyes away from where Ellie’s low-cut top was peeking through her dressing gown.

After Kit left the kitchen, Ellie turned and held out a cup to him, filled with steaming tea. She always remembered.

“Thanks,” Ty said, taking it.

She sat down with her own large mug of coffee and a bowl of cereal and nodded at the pile of files he had left on the table overnight. “Busy day of work ahead?”

“Kind of,” Ty replied. “We have a few days of senior Clave members visiting so we’re preparing summaries and presentations of all the recently-closed cases.”

“Sounds important,” she said, looking over the files with a critical eye.

“It’s not really - they all get reports sent when we close them out, they just choose not to read them. It actually takes up time we could be spending working on new cases,” Ty said, trying not to let the irritation color his voice - he had promised Anush he would try to be more polite this quarterly meeting and he might as well start early before he headed to the Centurion office at Whitehall.

But he could see that Ellie had caught on. “Sounds annoying, then,” she clarified. “Do you- do you need-“ her voice suddenly went softer, shyer. “Anything I could help out with on the ground, while you’re stuck impressing the senior brass?”

Ty wished there was - she had been extremely helpful in the dragon scale smuggling case - but he had to be truthful. “No,” he said and he could see her face fall. “But if there’s anything Shadow Market related that you could help with, I’ll let you know.”

She nodded, catching his drift but she still looked sad. “Great, just let me know.”

After Ellie had left to get ready for her university classes, Ty pulled out his notebook from the middle of the pile of files and wrote down that morning’s interactions. He tapped on the table with his pencil as he thought, and then expanded further on his conclusions. He was almost entirely sure they were correct, and that he had found a course of action he was happy with.

Problem was, he still wasn’t entirely sure how Kit would react and he was key to anything progressing further. He watched as Kit returned to the kitchen table, running his hands through his still wet hair and figured now was as good a time as any to let him in on it.

“I think Ellie needs something to boost her confidence,” Ty said, without any preamble. “And find someone who appreciates her. Someone she can sleep with and not worry that they won’t call again or handle her moods.”

Kit gave him a quick look from across the table, a bit confused at Ty’s interest. “Agreed,” he said, leaning back in his chair. He grabbed at his cup of coffee, taking a big swig. “The men she’s recently been seeing have been trash.”

“Do you have a plan?” he asked casually.

Ty nodded.

Kit sat back up. “I’m in.” He nearly always was, when it came to Ty’s plans. “So we’re matchmaking Ellie? Setting her up with a nice Shadowhunter boy or girl or were you thinking more traditional - overseeing her swipe rights on Tinder?” His eyes danced as he started getting into the idea, pulling out his phone.

Ty skimmed his hands over the surface of the breakfast table. He knew what Tinder was - Dru had shown him it earlier in the summer, when Thais had briefly installed it to get over her latest heartbreak. “Maybe for step two. Step one is us sleeping with her.”

Kit choked on his coffee. “Um…” He refocused his attention on Ty, his blue eyes subtly darting over Ty’s face, as he quickly assessed Ty’s reaction.

Ty waited for him to finish. As it often was, he figured it would be easier to have Kit read him, rather than have to explain. He waited for a couple minutes and then prepared to show him his notes, if he needed to explain further.

Kit sat back. “You’re serious?” There were further questions in his voice but also, tentative interest, Ty thought.

“Yes, I am.” Ty nodded. “Don’t you think she’s attractive?”

Kit let out a brief, nervous chuckle. “Of course- but she’s also my friend. So that’s a boundary that we’ve not crossed- or at least, not since school. Plus, I’m with you.”

“You know I don’t mind. You can’t control who you find attractive,” Ty said. They had spoken about this early on in their relationship - Kit’s flirting with whoever caught his eye never bothered him. Ty knew he was the one who had Kit’s heart. Plus, he wasn’t suggesting they do this separately.

“My question- do you find her attractive?” Kit asked, his voice deliberately light. “I know you were with both girls and guys at the Scholomance but I wasn’t sure if you still…”

Ty thought back to the way that Ellie often held herself, her angry stance challenging the world, her blue eyes flashing when she and Ty had spotted the caged dragons in the London Shadow Market and how she had charged right in; how she flung her arms in casual exuberance around Kit when she came in after a night of drinking and dancing, how the dimple in her cheek deepened when she gave one of her rare smiles, her habit of tapping her fingers to her lips as she read one of her psychology journals in the library. He had spent the last three months observing her - and Ty knew one of his conclusions would be: yes; he found her attractive.

Ty shrugged. “Yeah, I do.” Kit took in this information, mulling it over, and then he looked up.

“Wait- but does she think we’re attractive?”

“Yes,” Ty said. He held out his notebook and passed it to Kit. “I’ve been making notes.”

Kit let out a quick laugh, as he flipped through the pages. “Ty- I both can and can’t believe you took notes on it.” His eyes widened and the flipping of pages slowed as he started to read more thoroughly. “I see you took notes on all of us…” he said, as he gave a lingering, inscrutable glance up at Ty before returning to read.

Ty could feel a small flush creep up from his neck. “Yeah, I did- I’m glad we offered her a place to stay until her loan money comes in, given the living arrangement with her boyfriend after they broke up. But it was strange at first. This was just a way to deal with that and well…” he rubbed the back of his neck, watching Kit. “Then it just seemed helpful to continue with it.”

Kit had let out a soft growl at the mention of Ellie’s cheating boyfriend, but his eyes softened as he looked back to Ty. “I know I’ve said this before - but I really appreciate you were willing to have her stay, given how much I know you hate disruption and she’s more my friend than yours.”

Ty watched as Kit traced his voyance rune, a familiar tic that he had when he was feeling nervous around Ty.

“She’s my friend too,” Ty said firmly, and he looked up to meet Kit’s face, eyes resting just below his cheekbone. “Especially after the past few months and the stuff around the Shadow Market case.”

Kit nodded, reassured. He handed back the notebook to Ty. “This was absolutely fascinating- I had no idea I had so many tells, especially when it comes to pre-jumping you,” he said, a smile playing on his lips and his normal cheerful manner returning. “But I’ve also realised - I didn’t need notes to know that Ellie thinks we’re both hot. Maybe it’s been less frequent recently, given everything but she’s made plenty of comments over the years on how attractive she thinks we both are. In very loud, complimentary terms- and…” he added, the smile mixing with a small wince, his eyes focused on past memories. “Sometimes in very inappropriate places.”

“The other thing is,” he said, speaking slower as if he were thinking out loud. “Is it - we wouldn’t be taking advantage of her, you know- her grief?”

“Her mother died two years ago,” Ty pointed out. He could see Kit about to protest and he continued. “I know, believe me, I know that grief doesn’t just go away…” Livvy was the unspoken word between them. “But also-” Ty searched for the words. “There comes a point when you want people to stop treating you like this fragile, broken thing. You need to start making your own decisions again and decide how you want to live… after,” he said. “And that’s partially why I think we should do it. I think she’s… stuck in that. Also stuck in that she dropped out of the Academy so she’s not exactly a mundane anymore but she’s not a Downworlder either.”

He paused, wondering if he needed to explain the other part but he thought Kit already knew about it.

Kit looked thoughtful.

“She can also always say no,” Ty pointed out logically.

“True,” Kit admitted. He grinned. “Okay, if she’s in, and you are, so am I.” He poked Ty’s arm playfully. “And to think I was going to just grab a coffee and head to the Institute. I didn’t expect to get a threesome proposition from my boyfriend over breakfast,” he said.

“What’s that?” Ellie had reappeared at the top of the stairs, now fully dressed and Kit looked over at Ty, the question in his eyes.

Ty shook his head, and mouthed. Tonight

Kit nodded, blushing slightly as he looked over at Ellie. She had her back to him as she went rummaging in the fridge and Kit snuck a glance at Ty, as if watching for his reaction.

Ty couldn’t help but find it hot that Kit was looking for his approval. His boyfriend didn’t blush that often, especially not almost five years into their relationship. He smiled into his tea. Depending on Ellie’s reaction to their proposition, this could be an intriguing dynamic to play with. His imagination began to play in full technicolor as he played possible scenarios in his head. He took a sip of his tea, and made the effort to meet Kit’s eyes.

Whatever Kit saw there made him blush even harder, and Ty’s smile grew wider.

(Chapter Two)

—-

Hah, this has been consuming me almost my whole holiday but I will get back to the Hadestown fic soon, as I’ve almost finished this one, just doing the edits on most of the other chapters .

Tag list: @jesse-is-spiraling maybe @thechangeling for the Ty POV? But let me know if not… and let me know if you want to be added/removed.

[split-n-splice]

This night will last a few chapters. ;B enjoi

[Chapter Guide | FFn | Ao3]

29. Aura of Others – 3

Even a strange blue man in bed next to her would have been a better sight than cracking her eyes open to a scruffy brown rat down by her feet, nibbling a puff of popcorn. Shilo shrieked and nailed the pest with a shot of plasma before she could think twice. Blasted straight off the foot of the bed, it hit the ground running, and she heard the squealing rodent flee to the hole in the wall across the apartment.

Regretting the reflex, she hoped that it wouldn’t die in the walls and leave a nasty odor.

She heaved a breath and melted back into the sheets, limp and just a little numb already from the undue adrenaline. She had four minutes until her alarm clock sounded off, which was four minutes to spare to stare up at her hands.

Today was the day. She’d really be testing her willpower and self-control by the end of it.

Shilo let her hands ignite, pouring her concentration into it until the glow began to feel hot even by her standards. It was a good indicator she was overdoing it when the cotton sleeves bunched around her elbows began to discolor and smoke.

She snuffed it out completely at will as the alarm clock beeped, and let her hands cool in the air for another minute before dropping them over herself, warming her stomach.

Deep breaths. She could do this. It wasn’t like she’d never been on a date before. Well, alright, so maybe she hadn’t officially – but she’d hung out with people in groups and alone and that was practically the same, and she’d made out with the neighbor boy a few times after returning to the charade of a normal life and might have made it to third base had big brother not presumably butted in.

She shoved the thought from her mind too late. She didn’t need a grudge fogging her brain today, and she didn’t need to kick it off by over-thinking scenarios so soon and getting in a tizzy.

The alarm clock was on her last nerve. She nearly blasted it to smithereens. But it was in front of the vanity mirror, and she was in no mood to clean up more shattered glass so soon.

As she prepared herself for the day, she tried to remain deaf to the rain coming down in sheets and driving waves of clamor on the roof and windows, at least until the saturated roof began to leak. She sighed remorsefully and mopped up the mess with a designated towel before pushing a pot under the drip which she knew might not be enough to contain the leak if the rain didn’t let up soon.

She had her slicker and an umbrella, and was braced to make the soggy walk to Buckley’s despite any drowsy agreements she’d made last night, but was pleasantly surprised to find herself smirking gratefully at the blue man in a brown suede jacket standing outside her door, holding an umbrella of his own.

“So you can tell time,” she noted.

Drakken grunted but held out an arm. “Your chariot awaits,” he said. It might have been more charming or funny had he been more enthusiastic.

Shilo didn’t remark on his mood and rather than accepting the gesture, she shoved him before stepping under the shelter of his umbrella instead of popping open her own.

He’d worried her last night with his little outburst, but he’d reigned it in and composed himself in short order. She’d lightheartedly offered to make a pact that if they both found themselves diligently avoiding family on the fourth Thursday of November, they could just skip town and dine on gourmet Chow, holiday edition. Effectively cheered up, Drakken had loved the prospect enough that he hadn’t even noticed the plasma glittering over her palm when they’d shook on it.

Though he’d been in good enough spirits when he insisted on leaving early last night, he didn’t look all that giddy today. His eyelids were heavy, though he didn’t look incredibly tired, and his lips were pulled into a slight frown as if something had left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. As she studied his face, he cast his dark eyes her way, and she snapped her stare back to the road quickly.

“Chow?” he offered.

“If we hit the drive-thru,” she agreed. She sighed drearily to herself and leaned her head against the window streaked with rain. “I’m going to get sick if I keep eating that crap though.”

“You’re realizing this now?” He was one to talk, with his freezer full of microwavable junk.

She almost kicked him. “Shaddup.” She settled for flipping him the bird, but Drakken only chuckled.

Truth be told, she was too uneasy to have more than a couple bites of her breakfast cereal earlier. She’d dumped the remainder down the toilet, and the rest had followed a moment later when she’d upchucked, no thanks to the nerves curdling in her stomach all morning. She’d barely been up for an hour and the day was off to a bad start already. She’d brushed her teeth and gargled afterward, but a hash brown patty to nibble on helped get the taste out of her mouth and off her breath once and for all, or so she hoped.

She was picking the patty apart and watching the grey swaths of rain sweep through town as they left the Cow-n-Chow lot when something caught her eye. The neon sign wasn’t lit this early, but it was legible enough. With a surge of nerves prickling down her spine, her eyes popped wide and she realized she’d never tracked down the rendezvous point.

There was no need now, she realized as she watched Westinger Grill slide away into the gray haze. She shot an inquiring look to her glum driver and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder.

“Westinger Grill,” she spat out. “That’s the weird karaoke place, right?”

Drakken glanced back in the mirror and gave a grunt and a shrug in reply. “You mean the one you hated?”

A baffled, “Huh?” fell out of her mouth. Sure, she might have been uncomfortable and dreaded being pulled on stage like the first time, but – Shilo frowned at the gloomy man and defended herself, “I never said that.”

“You dined and dashed,” he stated as if the fact alone was proof.

Shilo clammed up at the reminder. She almost threw her hash brown to the dirty floorboard of the stolen station wagon, appetite momentarily quelled, but took a big bite instead for a perfectly acceptable excuse not to answer him. She didn’t have to defend herself anyway. She’d been under no obligation to stay. She hadn’t even left because she hated it – though it might be better to let him think that, she decided. In fact, she’d really sort of liked it. Too much. And he’d sat a little too close, and his smile had been a little too warm, or made her a little too warm – and she’d decided it was better to bail before it was too late, before she lost her cool like she did every time angel boy hexed her, like she was on the verge of doing now—

“Do I need to pull over?” Drakken piped, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. “You look sick.”

“It’s just the dru—uh—uhm.” She couldn’t blame the medication anymore. He couldn't know about the debilitating drug at all – period – let alone that she had it in her possession. “No. I’m fine.” Her mouth was full of cotton but she swallowed against it anyway, and slouched back and folded her hands over her stomach to discreetly blow on them with a sigh. She’d taken another nip earlier to cool herself down, and had the remnants of the tablet in her purse just in case. She was good to go. She wasn’t at risk of flaring up at the tiniest bit of agitation.

“Are you sure?” He sounded less concerned for her and more concerned with having a mess to clean up.

“I’m sure.”

She picked her hash brown back up from her lap, finishing it off and inwardly hoping he wouldn’t need to pull over after all as she tucked into her muffin sandwich too.

The big day was really off to a rotten start, she decided. She’d been sick once, almost sick a second time, nearly lost her cool over a trivial accusation, and resorted to messing around in her purse to take another pinch off a pill and sneak the crumb under her tongue when Drakken wasn’t looking, all before even arriving at Buckley’s Brew.

When he asked if she’d be needing a ride this afternoon, he added the snide remark about chaperoning her and angel boy. She told him to get bent and leapt out of the car to make the dash through the pouring rain and into Buckley’s. In her haste, she forgot her umbrella but opted not to go back for it.

All day, she watched the rain outside fall. In such dreary weather, foot traffic was low and customers were few and far between. Which left ample time for Abigail and Chester, the kitchen hand, to gang up on her, making inquiries and accusations about her involvement with the local villain, perverse or otherwise, as well as pressing for classified information regarding Team Go  – like what was a real lair like, did she really think she stood a chance of getting into LHU with her track record, and was Drakken hiring yet?

The dogging lasted until Buckley broke it up. Shilo regretted sneaking yet another nip halfway through her shift – otherwise, she might have thrown a glow-laced punch at her fellow barista’s pudgy face to end the discussion. Given a break from the remarks and questions, she slumped into a seat as a fog settled over her, only to jump up at the chime announcing a customer’s arrival. Her immediate fear was angel boy, or Drakken, or her brothers, but it was just a regular, and she put on a warm smile for the drenched woman laughing and making light of the downpour filling the reservoir.

By noon, a small ray of hope shined, golden and tantalizing outside on wet pavement. The rain hadn’t stopped, but it had lightened up considerably, the clouds breaking up enough to let some shifting sunlight reach the drenched oasis town.

As she left Buckley’s that afternoon, she looked to the heavens to study the blue sky mottled with bruises of grey rain clouds drifting eastward. The weather report, according to the television installed in the corner of the café, claimed the storm had passed, but there was still a churning tumult in her stomach as she trudged home, taking detours around flooded streets and grudgingly wading through an ankle-deep puddle on the last intersection, her studio in sight.

Her umbrella was leaned against the door. She scoffed a curse at the man who wasn’t even there.

As she hung up her things, she cast a glance at the clock. Three hours to go. She contemplated showing up fashionably late, or early, or – she swore again and combed her fingers through her hair. What did people wear to these sorts of things? She groaned to herself, wondering if everyday street clothes were acceptable, as she didn’t own anything nicer. Not yet anyway.

Two hours later, she’d turned her closet and drawers inside out and prayed she wouldn’t be bringing a guest home tonight. That thought alone was like dropping a live wire in a puddle, sending sparks of heat flooding to all the wrong places. She was getting ahead of herself. She was in this for payback. Not to behave like some deprived love-struck puppy. Not that she could risk pushing her luck without a little help from the pill – and she wasn’t about to roofie herself.

She squeezed her eyes shut and denied doing exactly that just to relax enough to watch a simple movie with Drakken last night.

Hell, she’d even started to fall asleep again, despite his outburst. The rogue could have done anything, but instead, he’d decided to take his leave. Shilo wanted to shout and swear now that she’d only imagined grabbing his sleeve to ask him to stay. Or maybe she’d asked if he wanted to stay. Maybe she’d been asking, or hoping, for both. Maybe she’d even wanted to try having someone beside her – actually beside her, not out of reach clear across a stupidly vast oversized bed. She’d slept in dogpiles among her brothers after tough missions before, but a man was inherently different—

She shuddered and tried to pull her thoughts back to angel boy. Angel boy was who she was seeing tonight. Angel boy was who she pulled on her nicest spotless khakis and teal cardigan for, and why she clipped on the bracelet for good measure. Hair tied back to show her earrings, she wondered if the rockhound could tell at a glance the difference between rhinestones and genuine diamonds – and then decided if he was such a snob that he cared, well, she’d just have to raise the price of payback.

She still wasn’t sure what she had planned for angel boy. Something along the lines of burglary brought a smile to her as she headed out into the evening to make the trek across town. She could steal things little by little, or swindle him, or scope out the precious gems packed in that big gaudy house she was positive a young guy like him didn’t own. It was probably his parents’ house. That slowed her pace. She really wouldn’t like having to deal with meeting anyone’s parents, but if that’s what it took to get inside to get a good look around, then so be it. A house like that probably had a nice security system – not that cameras had ever stopped her before.

A cold wind blew straight through her as the Cow-n-Chow came into sight, just off Main Street on the far end of town. She hugged herself and wished she’d worn something warmer than the cardigan. She longed for a cozy woolen sweater, maybe one that enveloped her in a weird mix of comforting smells like cookies and oil-spills in the lab. Then again, smelling like one of Drakken’s workshop rags couldn’t be the best way to show up for a date, she supposed.

She looked up from watching for puddles as the chosen restaurant came into view. The sign to Westinger Grill buzzed in bright red, and in the window, just as she’d seen before, the karaoke sign flashed as if to tempt passerby.

As she cut through the parking lot toward the tall junipers lining the walkway to the entrance and patio, a familiar ugly station wagon caught her eye. Before she could groan in dread – it couldn’t be – she was discontented to find the front patio was occupied.

Slumped over on a bench near the door sat a man looking a little too blue for her liking. And of all things, he was puffing away at a cigarette she doubted was making him feel any better, by the looks of it. Or if it was, she’d hate to have seen him before he lit up. He was still in his plain street clothes, yet he looked a little disheveled as if he’d been thrown out or had neglected to tuck in his shirt or straighten his jacket all day.

Shilo’s pace slowed as she neared and she stopped before him. Her hands rested on her hips, but his droopy gaze didn’t lift from his scuffed oxfords. “Dr. Drakken?” she called down to him as if unsure it was the same moody scientist she knew. His eyes darted up at her, and he pulled a face almost like a sneer – yep, still Drakken – and she shifted to cross her arms. “What are you doing here? You know, this stalking thing is getting old—”

“Oh, you think everything’s about you, don’t you?” he snorted, and nodded to the window behind him. Specifically the blinking karaoke sign in it. He checked his watch. “Doesn’t start for another…oh…fifteen. Thirteen? Minutes.”

She gathered she was early.

“And you’re totally sulking about karaoke and not the fact we aren’t doing some Bonnie and Clyde gig, which you were just bitching about yesterday.” She nodded to herself as if that made perfect sense – and in the next second, she had the feeling she was off the mark when he shot her a dirty look that made her shift again and back down.

“It’s not about you, Shego,” he reiterated, grinding out the words. “Fuck off.” He was in an especially bad mood tonight, she decided.

Shilo held up her hands in peace. “Language, Doc,” she teased tersely.

The crotchety man rolled his eyes and mimicked her in a whiny indiscernible mutter. “Why are you here?” he grumbled, eyeing her suspiciously as she turned to cast a glance back around the parking lot.

No angel boy in sight, she stepped forward and took a seat next to Drakken on the bench, though she kept a mindful distance. She leaned a little to peek at his wristwatch, but that was as close as she came. “What do you think?” she scoffed, smoothing out the wrinkles on her sleeves. “Waiting on my date.”

Pissy mood aside, Drakken cracked a weak lopsided smile. “I’m flattered,” he jibbed.

“Oh, shut up,” she bit back, and almost struck him in the shoulder.

Drakken almost reluctantly offered the cigarette her way then, raising his brow as if in question. She decided maybe he wasn’t in such a bad mood after all. Or maybe it was improving the longer she sat beside him. She wanted to pretend she was imagining it, but she could see him cheering up and sitting straighter, his eyes brighter, focused, and on her.

Minutes of silence passed. The cigarette changed hands a few times before Drakken finally flicked the butt into the juniper hedge, and the silence ensued for some time after as patrons of Westinger Grill came and went.

Shilo heard the first musically-challenged karaoke enthusiast of the night begin caterwauling inside. Drakken remained next to her, twiddling his thumbs and looking glum, but still better than he had when she’d arrived. “It’s starting,” she noted.

“Yes, I know. I’m not deaf.” He made no move to get up. He seemed to shrink just a little even, his spirits dimmed.

“Well, if you’re not gonna sing, then what are you doing here?” she wondered. “You know, besides sulking out here in the cold?” She could see her breath now and it wasn’t the smoke anymore, she realized. She rubbed her arms. If she hadn’t been medicating herself with a pinch here and there all day, she might have had her second nature readily burning her up right about now.

Drakken slouched back and let out a horrible noise that passed for a sigh. “You don’t want to know.”

“Try me.”

“I don’t want to tell you.” His snooty answer changed when she kicked his shin, but not before he released another guttural groan and slumped forward to hide behind a hand. “The plan is to drink my troubles away and do something foolhardy,” he grumbled, and she elbowed him. He nodded to the parking lot. “I’m pushing the car off a cliff.”

Shilo still had the sense he was omitting something, but she let it go for now. She stifled a small laugh and caught herself inching closer, close enough he was almost warm against her side. Or maybe that was just her. “What? You think I wouldn’t want in on pushing a car off a cliff?” It sounded better than karaoke, anyway.

“Why would I invite you? You were supposed to have a date,” Drakken reminded.

He had a point. She narrowed her eyes and didn’t comment on it though. Instead, she scoffed. “Why the sudden urge to push a perfectly good car off a cliff anyway?”

She had a pretty good idea of the ledge he was thinking of. She’d parked the SUV there her first night in the oasis. It was a good place to push a car from – if memory served her well. The thought of sitting on top of the car overlooking the pond of light in the valley below, sharing quiet chatter and making plans to cause a little chaos, was more appealing than sitting outside a grill waiting for a tardy angel boy who may or may not show.

Drakken shrugged. He dug in his coat pocket for his pack of smokes, but she reached across to push his hand down. If he lit another now, they’d be out here until it was finished – and it was getting pretty chilly out. Her hand rested over his for a second too long, and it was a decidedly good thing he was wearing his leather gloves or he might have felt the pinpricks of her nerves shooting down to her fingertips before she could snap her hand back.

The man let out another grievous sigh, his breath still smoky from the last cigarette and already bearing a hint of alcohol. She shouldn’t have been close enough to smell it. “It looks too much like my mother’s,” grumbled Drakken.

Shilo couldn’t help quirking her brow at him. “I thought you said you wanted a station wagon?”

“I did, but that was before – nngg!” He shoved his glasses up and scrubbed his face. His temper was climbing again. “Just let it go, please. I’m begging you.”

Just as she’d been about to scoot away to give him breathing space, Drakken jumped up. His hands flailed in the air and he gestured down the street, smacking into the juniper in the wild movement as he did. “Why can’t you go to Cow-n-Chow?” he griped, just about yelling it down at her.

“Why can’t you go to Cow-n-Chow?” she retorted, rising as well.

Drakken crinkled his nose and curled his lip. “Because! I’m – I was here first!”

“Too bad. I have a prior arrangement to be here.” Shilo crossed her arms and planted her feet.

He took a quick scan about and threw his arms out into the air on either side of him. “Well it looks like you’ve been stood up,” he announced. That wasn’t true. Was it? She didn’t have the time – and Drakken didn’t know when she was supposed to meet angel boy anyway.

Shilo crossed her arms. The assumption stirred worry in her gut, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking around to be sure for herself, or of letting the disappointment show on her face. She gave a little shrug she hoped was nonchalant and indifferent enough to mask it. “Yeah, not the first time,” she lied.

A strange mix of pity and anger flashed in the man’s eyes, and his face twisted, and he crossed his arms as well and practically stamped a foot as he turned to take in their surroundings again. “We could both go to Cow-n-Chow,” he suggested as if it were troublesome just to speak the words.

“Little tired of Chow,” Shilo dismissed. It wasn’t a lie in the least. Some pasta and breadsticks would be a nice change, but she’d be happy with chicken tenders too.

“Alright then…” Drakken rocked on his heels for a second, hands stuffed in his pockets. He was starting to look chilled. At least, she’d like to think that was why his ears and cheeks were turning purple. “Well, there’s always room at my table,” he said with a nod to the door of the restaurant and held out his arm for her to take, just as he had Monday night when he’d been decked out in his Halloween costume. “Care to join me?”

Eyeing his arm, she entertained the idea. Her hand, nervous tingling aside, itched to take it, and her heart thumped in encouragement and her stomach did a funny flip that wasn’t as sickening as she might have expected after being so worried sick earlier in the day.

But a buzzing pulled her attention past Drakken then, and he glanced back over the hedge just as none other than angel boy came zipping into the parking lot on a dinky little white moped. Drakken scoffed and made a sarcastic comment under his breath, “No helmet? What a daredevil.”

Shilo shoved him toward the door. “Get outta here,” she hissed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” he grumbled. “Suit yourself. See you inside.”

“Don’t crash any cars without me!” she whispered sharply at his back.

[titsthedamnseason]

in the dead of night: chapter two

chapter 1 | once again: the most special of thanks to @tyblackthorn and @mostawesomepineapple for their guidance, they are both very lovely and i highly recommend you follow them if you arent already <3. also, i will be posting this to ao3 soon so keep an eye out for that but otherwise - enjoy losers!!

Julian was just finishing placing the last dirty breakfast dish in the sink when he heard Cameron come into the kitchen. The room was now empty, save the two of them, all the kids having gone off to be on their own, and Diana having not arrived yet. 

It was clear that Cameron had come to check on Julian, and find out what had occurred with the institute head the previous night. The last he’d known, Arthur had been in a maddened state worse than usual, but Julian had told him to go to bed and that it was under control, which had, of course, proved to be true. Normally, Cameron would have wanted to stay up and help to ensure these results, but he’d had a particularly nasty fight with an Eidolon demon earlier in the day, and had been exhausted, something he’d felt guilty about the entire morning.

“What happened last night? You look exhausted. I think even Dru was a little intimidated by the bags under your eyes.” Cameron had come around the table, and was now settled into a chair that he was sitting backwards on, his arms draped over the back, facing Julian, who was leaning back against the kitchen counter and wiping his hands on a floral towel.

“Gee thanks,” Julian responded, giving his parabatai a dry look. As he set the towel back on the counter, he squinted at the blaring sun coming in through the window, and figured today would be a good beach day. The whole family hadn’t had one in a while. The only problem would be convincing Diana to cancel training for the day, though she might go for it if they invited her to the beach . . .

“Hello? Earth to Jules.” Julian shook his head to clear it, and focused back on a worried Cameron. “Did everything go okay last night? You seem distracted. You would have woken me if anything had gone wrong, right?” The guilt was clearly displayed on his face, even though Julian had been the one to tell him to get rest. Julian quickly worked to reassure the other boy that it was alright.

“Yeah, sorry, no worries.” Julian gave a small smile, but it was quickly replaced with a more serious look as he sighed. “After you went to bed last night I tried getting in contact with Malcolm for at least a half hour before deciding it was no use. I would have tried for longer, but there was no time. Arthur was only getting worse.” Julian seemed sickened by the memory, and Cameron looked only slightly better. “I was running out of options, had nearly given up entirely, resigning myself to a night of a deranged Arthur, hoping Malcolm would come in time to fix it, or that he would wear himself out, that we wouldn’t need to involve the Silent Brothers or the Clave or anything, you know?” 

Cameron nodded his head in acknowledgement at the predicament that he’d heard and experienced himself a thousand times over. He wondered how his parabatai had gotten around it this time. With some brilliant plan, most likely.

Julian continued on, prompted by Cameron’s response. “Well, anyway, lucky for me, I just barely remembered the advice Malcolm had given us that I had nearly cast from my mind entirely, disregarding it as irrelevant but––”

“You called Emma Carstairs?!” Cameron clearly recalled the time that Malcolm had recommended the foreboding warlock to them, and how ridiculous the idea had seemed then. They hadn’t told Malcolm how absurd his proposition had come across as, but they had poked fun at it on their way back home from his house and well after. Emma was notorious for hating Shadowhunters, and was very private. Very few knew what she looked like, or where she resided for most of her days, but supposedly she received a lot of requests via fire-message from individuals hoping to gain her help, hearing of her powers, and optimistic to become one of the few who could say they knew her.

“Well, I actually fire-messaged her, but yes. She showed up almost right away. I’m not sure how the night would have gone without her, but I imagine quite poorly.” He then recounted the rest of the tale from the night before, how Emma had calmed down Arthur, what she looked like, their conversation after. The only part he left out were her qualms about being wary of Malcolm. Julian wasn’t sure if he trusted those yet, and there was no need to worry Cameron over nothing. “Just don’t mention this to Malcolm, please. He hasn’t even gotten back to me from last night yet, but I don’t want him to think we don’t need or appreciate his help. You know how flaky his feelings are, and I’m not sure how willing Emma would be to help us again if Malcolm thought we didn’t need his help and started refusing to give it.”

It wasn’t the best excuse, and Julian didn’t like having to keep things from his parabatai, but Cameron accepted it without question. “So she doesn’t hide her identity because she’s actually hideous? Livvy will be so disappointed.” It had been a long running joke in the Blackthorn family that for Emma Carstairs to be so secretive, her appearance must be atrocious. Livvy had been the one to start the conspiracy, and she was highly dedicated to her cause. Julian smiled at the thought.

“I’m glad that’s what you took away from the story, Cam,” Julian sighed. Finished with recounting the story, he went back to work wiping down the counter, turning his back on Cameron. He might joke, but Julian knew Cameron was only trying to lighten the serious tone and not make light of the situation itself, knowing how delicate the balance was.

The other boy didn’t look deterred by this response and merely shrugged. “That’s what I’m here for, dissecting the important parts of the stories that you overlook while you’re too busy overanalyzing everything else. Without me you’d be hopelessly lost, I’m sure.”

They shared a smile, and then set to clearing out the rest of the kitchen. They threw around meaningless conversation as they did, crafting a plan to get out of the day’s training and joking around. The matter from the night before was temporarily forgotten, and life continued on like normal for the LA Institute.

Julian knew that after the kitchen was clear, he would go off to the office to respond to the letters the institute had recently received while Cameron watched the kids for him. He knew that Diana wouldn’t give them a beach day, and they’d still have to train. He knew he was of age but still couldn’t do anything to save his family, not really, and he knew that his business with Emma Carstairs was not done, and wouldn’t be, not until he found out what was fueling her suspicions of Malcolm, and was sure he’d avoided any and all threats to his family.

---------

Julian could not stop thinking about Emma Carstairs, or rather, he could not stop thinking about what Emma Carstairs had told him.

As it turned out, the family had been able to squeeze in a beach day, so he’d spent the day at the beach with his family, minus Diana, who had been unable to make it to the institute at all that day due to other arrangements. Malcolm had finally gotten back to Julian around noon, texting to see if everything was alright, and Julian had easily responded that Arthur had eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion and had not awoken since, but that they needed more medicine. Malcolm had promised to bring it over before the next day’s end.

This was nothing out of the ordinary, Malcolm being flighty with his responses, but helping them out in the end. What made it different now was that another well known warlock, one that Malcolm had recommended himself, had warned Julian against trusting Malcolm. It wasn’t as if he even knew Emma Carstairs, or had any reason to trust her, even if she had helped him greatly and without charge the night previous, but he couldn’t help but consider that maybe she had good reasons. If that was the case, Julian wanted to know what those reasons were, and what her intentions were, because he couldn’t risk endangering his family, whether through Malcolm or through Emma.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Tavvy called out to him. He and Ty had just finished building a sandcastle, and they wanted him to come see it. As he made his way across the sand to them and saw Cameron splashing around with Livvy and Dru in the ocean behind, he vowed to get to the bottom of this Emma Carstairs business one way or another. He would do whatever it took to keep his family safe.

---------

Julian didn’t know if this plan would work and he didn’t like the feeling. The thing about Julian’s plans was that they were always foolproof, always well thought-out, and always reviewed by Cameron to pick out any possible flaws. The problem with this particular plan, was that it qualified as none of those things.

Julian knew that it was a bad idea, trying to contact Emma Carstairs again, and to do it by lying to her. Warlocks were usually pretty grumpy to begin with, and he doubted she would appreciate the false summons on top of that. He didn’t even know if she would respond at all. These were only two of the very many things that could go wrong with this plan. As Julian sat at the desk in his room, sighing as he watched the clock strike past midnight once again, he began writing his letter to Emma.

When he finished, he set down the pen and picked up his stele, quickly scrawling the fire-message rune onto the back of the sealed and folded letter. After sending it, he got up to go to the institute’s entryway, to hopefully intercept Emma when she arrived, and finally taking notice of the mess in his room, duly noting that he needed to clean it.

He wasn’t entirely positive that he wasn’t hallucinating from sleep deprivation when Emma Carstairs suddenly appeared in front of him. He rubbed at his eyes just to be sure.

“Julian, I’m so sorry! I feel awful about Arthur, I really thought the spell would hold! Take me to him now, I’ll fix it for you, and I’ll be sure it holds this time. No charge again, of course.” The guilt was all over her face, something Julian had not accounted for. It was clear that she’d been about to go to bed, if she hadn’t already been sleeping. She was dressed in cotton shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, paired with fuzzy socks and Ugg slippers. Her hair was down and draped across her shoulders, unlike the night previous when it had been held back in a braid.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I lied to you so you would come, Arthur’s fine.” Julian scratched the back of his neck, hoping to pull off an innocent look. Judging by her face, the warlock was not impressed. He began thinking that perhaps the brutal honestly had not been the way to proceed with this plan, but he hadn’t had much time to think about it.

“What do you mean he’s fine?” Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was staring him down. Julian silently hoped she wouldn’t turn him into a frog, and hoped if she did Cameron would take the risk and kiss him to see if he turned back. The kids wouldn’t survive with Cameron left as their only guardian. Julian needed to fix this quick.

“Look, I know this job has probably been––unusual, to say the least.” Emma raised her eyebrows at that, but Julian continued on, unmoved by her reaction. “I really am sorry that I had to call you back, and that I lied to you in the process. The truth is, I needed to see you to ask about Malcolm. Trusting him is no small matter for me and I couldn’t live knowing that I might be putting my little siblings in danger by keeping him close to us. I need to know what you know about him and how you know it.” Julian knew he’d been successful in getting to her when her glare gave way to a weary look and she began rubbing her eyes.

“Look, I’m not about to start telling you my entire history. I understand why you had to lie to me, but why should I tell you anything? Not to mention, it’s the middle of the night, and I rushed here for no reason. Is this how you conduct all your important business meetings?”

“I know you have no reason to tell me anything, but please, I’m begging you on behalf of my family, my siblings who have done nothing to deserve the shit hand they’ve been dealt in life. If you tell me this, and help me protect them, I swear I’ll never try to contact you again and I’ll pay you double whatever you’d be asking for this information.”

“Zero doubled is still just zero. Plus, making such promises is ridiculous. I will tell you what I can now, Julian, and if you desperately need me again I’ll come, but please don’t make light on that offer. It is to be used only in the most dire of instances, and only applies if you cease from lying to me again. Especially when it’s at the expense of my emotions, and my pizza, which has definitely burned by now.” She looked put out as she said this, though over his lie, her guilt, or her charred pizza, Julian couldn’t say.

“There isn’t much I can tell you about Malcolm, though it isn’t due to my withholding of information. In truth, I can’t even be absolutely sure he has ill intentions. What I am sure of is the bitterness that has always resided within him, and the horrific history he has with Blackthorns. It is entirely possible that he has seen sense and long forgotten the matter, though as someone in your situation, I wouldn’t count on it.” She let out a sigh and made her way to Julian’s desk to lean on as she told the story.

“You see, long ago, Malcolm had fallen in love with a Shadowhunter girl, a Blackthorn girl, who had loved him back just as greatly. Of course, at the time, it was seen as entirely revolting. I won’t go into the gruesome events that followed after they were discovered, and doing research on it would be essentially hopeless seeing as nearly all record of the event has been erased, but take my word for it that they were horrible. The girl was killed. Malcolm blamed the Blackthorns, among others. Maybe his connections to you and your family are of pure intent, but all I’m saying is that it seems awfully convenient that of all Shadowhunter families, he’s taken a liking to yours. He hasn’t wronged you yet, seemingly, but it doesn’t mean he won’t.”

Julian looked exhausted, and his eyes were filled with helplessness at Emma’s words. “I can’t go to Malcolm about this. If I imply to him that I’m suspicious and he has only pure intentions, he’ll get offended. If I tell him and he is working against us, he’ll only speed up his plans. Should I stop asking him for favors, just to be safe?” Julian knew that he couldn’t entirely trust what she was saying, and wouldn’t consider it fact, but he suspected there was at least some truth behind it, and plus, getting her advice on this might prove helpful. Something she said might give him a little more insight on how to proceed, even if  he didn’t take her advice fully.

“Absolutely not. If you ever encounter an issue that you don’t feel you can trust Malcolm with or suspect he may be misdirecting you, contact me and I’ll help. Otherwise, Malcolm should be fine. He hasn’t steered you wrong yet, and never asking him for things would just seem suspicious.” She seemed like she meant it, and so far she’d done nothing but benefit him. He would certainly keep her offer in mind.

“Thank you. I’m sorry again that I tricked you into coming here, but I was desperate. Just like last night, I guess. God, I wish I would stop finding myself in this position.” He was looking at her through hooded eyes, his head hanging with defeat and fatigue.

“You’re welcome, and stop reminding me of your misdeeds, Julian Blackthorn. At this rate I shall never forgive you.” She flashed him the smile that rarely seemed to leave her face. “I’m glad I was able to help, even if it was only slightly.”

“Yeah, a little more information might have been nice, but I understand. It’s good that I know even this much, or else I might have gone on blindly trusting Malcolm for the rest of my life without it. Without you. So, thank you for sharing, and for helping, and for continuously showing up at my house in the middle of the night. Also, for risking your pizza, that one is important.”

“You said thank you already, but you’re right, the pizza was a tremendous sacrifice.” As she approached him this time, she reached out for his hand and shook it, still smiling all the while. “I’m not sure you need reminding, but just in case you’ve forgotten, don’t tell anyone I was here, and especially don’t tell Malcolm I was here. He doesn’t like me already, and I can’t imagine he would be pleased with me stealing his customers.” She ended her statement with a wink, and was yet again gone before Julian could respond. He guessed she must not like goodbyes very much, if she was always disappearing before they could properly happen.

As Julian made his way to his bed, ready to finally sleep, he couldn’t help but compare this night to the one previous. Emma was once again so different than he’d expected, even if he had met her the night before. She was also very gracious, contrary to her reputation, what with helping him again, and doing it free of charge both nights. He supposed he should be more suspicious than he was, but nothing that she’d done had seemed disingenuous, and she’d only helped him so far. You could say the same about Malcolm, his brain reminded him. He couldn’t help but acknowledge that his brain made a fair point, and yet still, he felt as though he could trust Emma, even if he had to tread carefully if he was going to do so.

She had once again left behind the smell of roses, and as he drifted off to sleep he couldn’t help but note one thing that was different about tonight. He was sure he wasn’t going to tell Cameron about this in the morning.