#if you recognise what in game location that's supposed to be I love you forever

[cassierain]

The final Chapter is Out.

Here Z5-15 is, not doing uh- great.

[ellewords]

you know those posts of people saying to send a wedding invitation to celebrities because sometimes they’ll send gifts congratulating the couple? and you know how sometimes the celebrity will actually show up? this is my head cannon of who would end up showing up just because.

(little bit of a warning: these are very half-baked and mostly just stream of consciousness because my brain is fried and i’m in need of a distraction from writing essays, but the thought hasn’t left my head, so now you have to deal with my brainrot, mwahahaha!)

i think oikawa would show up to a bunch of weddings for he people he doesn’t know. it starts in argentina when a fan sends him an invite, and he’s stupid happy about it and no one really knows why. he just really enjoys weddings, they suppose. it’s in the area, too, so he buys a gift for the happy couple and he shows up. he genuinely tries to be really low key because he doesn’t want to ruin their big day, so he stays in the back for the ceremony and he is the perfect wedding-goer. at the ceremony, though, he has a much harder time remaining out of the spotlight. when the bride and groom notice that there’s a tiny bit of a commotion happening, they lose their minds when they realize that it’s because oikawa actually showed up!!! they thought he was kidding when he accepted the invite, or maybe that he’d send an assistant or something!!! but nope, there he is, looking both enthused at being the center of attention but also kind of uncomfortable. when the couple lose their minds in front of him, though, being utter fanatics and hyping him up, he eases up and finally begins to have fun, dancing on the dance floor with different people, drinking responsibly, talking to people, bashfully signing autographs. he doesn’t lose steam for even a second, and when the party seems to lull just a little bit too long, he goes out of his way to make sure everyone gets back to enjoying themselves to the fullest (which the bride and groom appreciate). nearly everyone in attendance gets his attention for a short portion of time, and if they don’t, he tries to snag a picture with everyone on the way out. at the very end of the night, he records a short video for the couple telling them how lovely they are, thanking them for the invite and the great time, and wishing them the absolute best. it’s the highlight of their lives, besides, y’know, the whole getting married thing.

it’s gets out that oikawa actually went to a wedding he was invited to by strangers when someone posts a picture of the wedding online and he was spotted in the background, so now he gets invites all the time. he doesn’t go to all of them because he’s busy and some of the places he gets invites from are across the world, but if the location intrigues him and he has the time, he’ll usually be there.

kageyama would definitely go, too! but it would be mostly because he can’t remember for the life of him if he knows the couple, and it stresses him the hell out. he’s definitely gotten a lot more confident since he was in school, but at the root of him is still an awkward kid who questions everything about himself if it’s not volleyball. so he panics about it for weeks before the wedding, wondering what they’ll want as a gift, accidentally tricking himself into believing that he does in fact know the couple and buying a gift that he assumes they’ll like based off of thinking it’s one of his old classmates from school and buying something that they’d like. and when he doesn’t recognize either of them at the ceremony, he gets so distracted trying to place anyone’s face as someone he knows and he just can’t for the life of him figure it out. he’s half a beat behind everyone when they start cheering for the couple as the kiss and leave because he’s so deep in thought. it isn’t until the reception that he finds out that he doesn’t actually know anyone and he gets so pouty about having stressed over it for so long that he broods in a corner, trying to avoid everyone. he doesn’t start to enjoy himself until someone recognizes him and rambles for nearly ten minutes about how amazing he is and about this one play that he did that they practiced for weeks after seeing it but they still couldn’t nail and that he was their inspiration. imagine everyone’s surprise when they find them in the hallway of the reception hall with a volleyball kageyama had in his car, kageyama teaching the person how he did it. a small game breaks out in the obnoxiously big hallway with a scrappy set up of chairs precariously piled on top of each other until they were high enough and a bunch of coat jackets tied together along the top and bottom of where a net would be so they can see through. the noise is just barely softer than the music, but they gather a bit of a crowd until the game is over, and as much as kageyama enjoyed it, he apologizes to the bride and groom afterwards for feeling like he took away their spotlight. they laugh and say they don’t mind as long as the groom can play the next match.

a picture of kageyama smiling and cheering as his impromptu teammate makes a good play goes viral days later and kageyama does everything in his power to get the pictures taken at the wedding so he has the memories of that night forever. he even sends an awkward thank you card to the couple after.

ushijima accepts an invite, too; mostly because he feels it would be rude not to accept when they spent the time and money going out of their way to send him one. he spends a lot of money getting them a gift, and he cleans up super nicely, and he’s almost distracting for the entire ceremony. the quiet mysterious type suits him well, and everyone notices as he stays in the back, politely applauding when necessary and offering tissue to anyone crying and helping when it’s needed. at the reception, he mostly stays in his seat, but he stops to have conversations with anyone that comes by. most of them are very to the point, and don’t get longer than a few minutes because ushijima doesn’t beat around the bush much, but as off-putting as it sounds, everyone absolutely adores him. some people are trying to size him up, but he’s just too straightforward about how they are perfectly good on their own without having to compare themselves that they wander off shocked that he was so... nice? no, he is, but that’s not quite it... honest? about it all that they feel validated and off-kilter by the time they walk away. others come over to ask him to dance, which he politely accepts and he’s just so earnest in his attempt that they can’t even be upset that he’s a little stiff and bumbling. if anything, they fall for his charm even more. as he leaves, everyone insists that he take a few plates to-go and that if he ever needed anything, all he had to do was ask. he was very confused by this proclamation as he didn’t know anyone well enough. in his bag of to-go boxes, however, he finds a ton of business cards and stuff that he stores away just in case he does need any of their services.

at his next interview, he gets asked about the entire experience, and as always, he’s super honest: “i had a wonderful time. everyone was very kind. that being said, i felt as if i was intruding on a very personal moment meant to be shared by those you hold dearest, so as much as i appreciate the sentiment, i do not plan to attend anymore weddings if i don’t know someone involved. it should be their big day, after all, and i would hate to distract from it.” if he gets anymore invites, he politely declines and instead sends them a gift and his congratulations.

i’ve been gone for a few days because of school, but i’ve been itching to send something in ever since i saw the wedding prompt. plus, all of the hc coming in from it have been so good! you have so many talented followers, and your additions are great as always, elle!

anyway, i have to get back to school. hope school is going well for you, elle! and make sure you’re taking care of yourself! -🌙

— from elle ! wait, hold on i love this >_< but hello moon anon !! i hope all those essays are working out well for you and i hope you’re able to take breaks in between :) anyways, this definitely made me love and i like that it’s true to the characters (esp. kags). my quick lil scenarios (under the cut as usual) is kind of an amalgamation of what you sent in because i'm just thinking of what would happen if the couple took a shot in the dark and invited all three of them. and they all attend :>> thank you for this and i hope you are having a wonderful day ! <3 

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

“yohoo, tobio-chan!” kageyama heard, a figure sliding into the empty seat next to him. the voice is airy, familiar, one that he had heard several times in the past. the ceremony was due to start in five minutes, everyone from the guests to the wedding party already taking their respective place.

he narrows his eyes towards the figure, recognising the man just after a couple of quick beats, “oikawa-san?”

“ah! i'm glad you could still recognise me.” oikawa grinned, squinting his eyes at the vast amounts of sunlight that entered through the windows, “too bright in here, isn’t it?” 

“what are you doing back in japan?” he asked, eyes growing wide as he’s unsure if the sight in front of him was actually real. 

 “visiting family, taking a little vacation.” oikawa replied, leaning back in his seat, “so how do you know the happy couple?”

“i...i'm not sure.” kageyama admitted, looking down at his lap in embarrassment.

“can you keep a secret tobio?” oikawa leaned in to whisper, waiting for him to nod before continuing, “i don’t think i know them either.”

__

it was about halfway through the ceremony and oikawa was getting just a little bit restless; he loved weddings, truly, but this one was dragging on much longer than the ones he previously attended. his gaze was lingering everywhere — from the loved-up gazes of the couple, the flowers that lined the aisles, to the guests who hung onto every word of the vows. one of the guests in particular was more familiar than most.

“pst, tobio.” he spoke, nudging kageyama’s shoulder, “doesn’t that guy look familiar?” 

he tilted his head towards the man who sat at the very back row, trying his best to keep a relatively low profile. kageyama followed with his eyes, attempting to be as discreet as he could. he recognised the man immediately, “that’s ushijima-san!”

maybe kageyama had exclaimed a little too loudly, earning himself a few shhhhs from the people who sat around him. he bows his head slightly as an apology while oikawa bites his lip to hold in his laughter.

__

the three of them were able to meet up during the reception, opting to sit at the same table — the one farthest away from everyone as to not draw any attention to themselves. well, oikawa insisted that they did and kageyama and ushijima didn’t really know anyone else to be comfortable enough to sit with them.

“what did you both get the bride and groom?” oikawa asked as an attempt to make conversation, taking a sip from the glass in front of them.

ushijima was one to spare no expense when it came to gifts, but he wasn’t one to brag about the cost of it either, “just a simple tea set. nothing much.”

what he failed to mention was that simple tea set cost several thousands of yen. but of course, oikawa took it as a bit of an opportunity to one-up ushijima and brags about his gifts. yes, gifts. plural.

__

ushijima was in the bathroom and oikawa had gotten the attention of a couple of bridesmaids — flirting with him while he tried his best to subtly deflect their advances — leaving kageyama all alone at the table.

he felt a hand tap on his shoulder, soft and hesitant, “kageyama tobio?”

“yes?” kageyama asked, turning to face the source of the voice. he’s met with a teenage boy, possibly not older than sixteen, looking at him with complete nervousness in his eyes.  

“i'm sorry to bother you. but i've just been such a huge fan of yours for the longest time and i wasn’t even sure if i should approach you but i really needed to let you know how much you have inspired me and i still have so much to learn but...uh, yeah.” the boy finished, looking at everything but kageyama at that point.

and a light flush colors kageyama’s cheeks, completely flustered. it was the first time anyone had approached him like that before, and he’s unsure how exactly to take the compliments. but he noticed the way the fan’s hands trembled, and he recalls all the times he’s approached the players he was a fan of when he was his age. “is there anything you need help with?”

__

needless to say, oikawa and ushijima were surprised when they found their table completely devoid of kageyama’s presence; only to find him in the incredibly large hallways with a makeshift volleyball court with chairs haphazardly stacked on top one another.

“where did you get that?” ushijima asked, pointing towards the volleyball that kageyama held in his hands.

“my car.” he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well then,” oikawa smirked, eyes lighting up as he looked around the halls, especially at the gathering crowd, “how about a friendly little match?”

kageyama and the fan he was meant to be teaching stood on one side of the makeshift court while oikawa and ushijima stood opposite them, getting into position. most of the guests had their phones out, recording everything and posting it on social media.

“at least i will finally know what it’s like to finally play with you in a team instead of against you.” ushijima commented, briefly glancing at his teammate for the night.

oikawa choked on air, taking a few seconds to compose himself before responding, “should have come to shiratorizawa, huh?”

it was barely even noticeable, barely lasted a few seconds, but ushijima cracked a smile. 

__

the night ends with the newlyweds approaching the three of them, expressing their gratefulness for their invitations but also apologising for stealing their thunder on their wedding, going so far as to offering to pay for their honeymoon.

“as tempting as that may be,” the bride smiled, “it really is no problem. we’re surprised that you even attended in the first place.

the groom nodded in agreement, “we had a lot of fun watching you play tonight, so we feel like we should be thanking you more. you didn’t have to bring gifts too.”

oikawa waved a hand as if to say it’s nothing, while kageyama and ushijima offer tickets to their next match in exchange for photos from the wedding — particularly that of their little volleyball match.

the three of them finally make their way out into the night and into their respective cars, but not before oikawa lets out one more question.

“the three of us should hang out more,” oikawa smiled, not a trace of teasing or malice in his tone, just a genuine offer, “at least once before i get back to argentina.”

years ago, none of them would even consider such a thing, but all three liked to think that they moved past such trivial things.

kageyama gave him a small smile, “alright.”

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what would the hq characters be like at a wedding?  |  written on the margins masterlist

taglist : @haikyuutothetop @crystal-lilac @tobioespresso @sushijimawakatoshi @itsmeaudrieee @pantherhappy @jesssobs @mysticstrawberryballoon @cloudedsky_29 @sakusasimpbot​

join my hq taglist here. <3

[miss-dr-reid]

This is calm, and it's, Doctor #3

TW -mention of case and bodily torture etc.

The Unsub was targeting red-heads. They were bound and kept for a week and then murdered in what seemed to be the messiest way possible.

"One girl every week. As soon as he dumps one, he already has another," JJ spoke, showing photos of victims and crime scenes on the big screen, "this is week four, and this week has only just started for our unsub." She finished, looking around the table.

"judging by how fast the unsub replaces these girls, I feel like it's safe to assume that he felt he was easily replaced, most likely by a former girlfriend and now feels like he is getting some sort of revenge on her with these innocent ladies." I chimed in. Everyone nodding in agreement, continuing to add their own theories.

It felt like the side of my head was burning. I turned to the direction the sensation was coming from, my eyes averted the gaze of Spencer, who quickly looked away, playing coy and shuffling in his seat. The meeting finished and Hotch turned to me,

"Got your go-bag?" His face still stern.

"In the car, Sir." I replied, he barely reacted, but I could tell he was a little surprised for me to be prepared to go on my first day.

"Good. Wheels up in thirty." And with that, he took his file and left the room.

"So, JJ showed us your resume, and I think it's fair to say that you and pretty boy will be quite close competition." Derek teased while propping himself on the desk next to me. Confused I asked him,

"Competition for what?" Seeing as we're supposed to be a team and all.

"Who's got the biggest brains!" He replied, almost shocked that I didn't know the answer.

"Oh..." I trailed off, looking quickly at Spencer who was watching our conversation, "I guess we'll see. I gotta get my go-bag, it's in the car-"

Derek leaned in towards me, "Take him with you. He needs some decent company." I nodded and stood up. I waved at Spencer to follow me.

He hesitated at first, but Derek and everyone else ushered him to follow. We grabbed our files and headed out of the conference room, hearing giggles as we left, Spencer looked back for a second, causing me to as well.

Nearing the elevator, no words were spoken, the silence wasn't awkward, but it felt like he wanted to say something. We got in the elevator and I thanked him for buying my coffee this morning.

He let out a small sigh and a light laugh,

"Yeah, well, not that were knew you were going to be there, BUT, seeing as you were and U recognised you from your file...I heard you mention how nervous you were and I wanted to help, it seems like I didn't help, instead threw you off even more. You were so flustered, I felt so bad. You reminded me of myself when I first started. That's why I didn't say anything else until Morgan showed up..." His head lowered as if he was talking to the ground.

"Oh, no, please don't feel bad. I was mostly confused at the gesture of a stranger buying me something, even if it was just coffee." I reassured him. The elevator doors opened and we stepped out, Reid following me to my car, he asked me what Morgan had whispered in my ear earlier.

"He just said you needed company, and I'm also in need of company, so I was happy to take the offer." I told him, leaning into the boot of my car to grab my bag.

I shut the boot and looked up at him, his face sceptical of what I'd just said.

"I'm happy to have the company. I'll take all the company I can get right now." I confirmed with him. Seeming satisfied with my answer, we headed back.

Once we got back to the bullpen, the team all came over to us and we all started talking. After a while of small talk, we all drifted toward where I assumed the jet would be. I was trailing at the back, following the group, enjoying myself, feeling very happy that everyone was so accepting.

Walking into the jet, everyone seemed to have their own seats. Hotch at the front, Rossi across the table in the same booth. JJ across the small Hall from them. Emily and Derek sharing a booth behind JJ, and Spencer, at a table by himself toward the back. The only seat available was the one at the table with Spencer. I sat down and he pulled out a chess set.

"Do you play?" He looked over expectantly.

"Not competitively." I said, adjusting myself in my seat.

The game lasted what seemed like forever. I played along with him, amusing him and testing the waters, but I could see his moves before he was even thinking about them. I made my final move, pinning his King into a check mate.

"No way!" He whined, his voice almost a squeak, throwing his hands in the air. He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, falling back in to his chair.

"Next time." I giggled at him.

Hotch called for everyone's attention, discussing the case and delegating roles. Being told that I would be out in the field while Reid was to stay at the local station caused a tiny sick feeling in my stomach v unsure why, I distracted myself by getting up to get a coffee. I walked into the smaller room in the back and grabbed a cup.

Derek popped in, offering some help with the coffee machine.

"You're doing good with him." He nodded towards Spencer who was looking over the cheese board, I assume replaying in his head.

"I'm just treating him like a person. I rather enjoy his company." I said, studying Spencer, sadness beginning to creep in me, knowing what is like to be the outcast.

We finished making my coffee and I settled down on the chair in front of Sidney. Watching his facial expressions as he replayed the game, occasionally moving and replacing pieces. I stopped my coffee in amusement. I helped him out, by putting pieces back to the move before his last fatal move was. He focused, his eyes flicking between pieces over the board. He made a nice and looked up at me and nodded towards the board.

I saw that his move was different than the game we just played, so I adjusted him and made my own move. It was over in 5, Reid's face following ad he realised he got me. He not-so-subtly chicken to himself, interlacing his fingers, sitting back with the biggest smile across his lips. I sipped my coffee, smiling at the beautifully wholesome scene unfolding in front of me.

"You're good." I praised, taking another sip of coffee, watching him silently accept the compliment, nodding in agreement.

We landed and everyone went their separate ways, to their assigned locations. Emily and I were together. We went to the most recent crime scene. When we arrived, I got my gloves out and ready.

"The lack of blood staining indicates that the victims were definitely killed elsewhere and this is purely a dump site." I trailed off, remembering the pictures of the victims, "He also took their hearts, right. That fits in with him being replaced. He must have given his all to this girl, so when she moved on, she took his heart with her, leaving him empty. More he's getting his revenge how he sees fit." Emily nodded, agreeing with what I was saying.

We looked around a bit more, not finding much. Emily got a call from Hotch, calling us back to the station. We got back in the car and drove off, Emily driving.

"Crazy first day, hey?" She questioned, glancing my way for a second.

"It's gone. I was packed ready. Not that I was expecting to get the job, but I was just so excited. I had to be ready for anything, you know?" My voice light as I recounted this morning's events and how everyone had been so nice.

"You're doing great!" She chimed, "And... having two brainiacs on the team will make it interesting..." Her voice trailed off.

"He's good at chess." I remarked, smiling at the thought of playing him again.

"Three PHD's means you're fierce competition, y/n. He hasn't had that yet. As long as you don't go too crazy with showing off, I think you two will get along great. He loves being challenged and using his brain...." She continued to list a few things that she's learnt about Sidney, making a mental Lyst, I thanked her for letting me know as we were pulling up to the station car park.

She smiled at me as we entered the building. Opening up the door, we went in. We found Reid hovering over a board-map set up with markers in hand. Watching him work was almost relaxing. He had a rhythm, almost, in the way he measured distances, made his marks on the map and the occasional tapping of the markers on his chin as he quietly thought to himself.

I didn't want to interrupt his train of thought, so I stood off to the side, I could see the board clearly at I leaned against a nearby desk b Emily joining me, offering me a cup of coffee she had just made. Her and I watched Reid as he worked.

Soon enough the rest of the team arrived. There wasn't many leads and it was getting late. Hotch dismissed everyone and we went across the road to the hotel. Everyone went their separate ways and went to bed.

This is part #3.

[loveactionsspeaklouder]

don’t give up on me

I will fight I will fight for you I always do until my heart Is black and blue

Life’s all about moments of impact and how they change our lives forever, but what if one day you can no longer remember any of them? That was the scenario I now found myself in. It was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives; I had just married my soulmate, in the perfect ceremony, surrounded by all our family and friends. But it just wasn’t meant to be. We had been driving to start our honeymoon when it happened, the night that changed our lives forever.

I had met the wonderful Freya at the age of 18; it was an instant connection, I knew this was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. It took me a while to ask, but a year later she made me the happiest person on the planet as she agreed to be my girlfriend. Three years later she made sure the smile on my face was staying forever by agreeing to become my wife. Four hundred and twenty-four days later she became Mrs Rashford, in her I had found the love of my life and my closest friend.

But that was all about to change.

A few hours ago, I was staring into the bright brown eyes of my wife; they showed so much happiness, love and excitement, but that was all taken away from her, from us. I was now staring at a woman who didn’t recognise me, who didn’t know how insanely in love with her I was, I was staring at a woman who thought I was her doctor.

The accident had caused her to lose her memory, most importantly the last five years we had spent together. She had forgotten everything; every kiss, every touch, every gift, every laugh, every memory. She had forgotten we were married. She didn’t remember me. She didn’t remember the life we had shared; to her, I was a random man standing at the end of her hospital bed.

And I will stay I will stay with you We’ll make it to the other side Like lovers do

The days became quieter which meant the weeks become longer, our normal routine had disappeared along with all our memories we had made in the house. It had been four months since the accident and Freya was still the same; in her mind, she was eighteen preparing herself for her future years, she didn’t realise she already had a successful future. Every day was different; some days we would argue and not speak, other days she would look through old photo albums, occasionally she would show emotion at the memories she was looking at but not remember them.

On the sixth month, I started showing her some of the memorable locations from our relationship. The first stop was my old house, the first time I laid eyes on my beautiful Freya. She had attended a New Year’s Eve party I was having, her tiny feet scurried across my living room floor making her way to the seat adjacent to myself. I remember the figure hugging jeans she was wearing, they bought out every curve. Her lips where enhanced by the red lipstick that covered every inch of her smile, it was the most beautiful smile I had ever laid my eyes on.

On the tenth month, I re-introduced her to my family. They adored her almost as much as I did, I had lost count the amount of tears my mother had shed because of the accident. Freya and she were best friends, if she was ever upset she would find comfort in my mother. She would always attend all my games with my brothers, even though she didn’t know what was going on she would still have a beaming smile on her face.

This accident didn’t just affect myself, but both our families and that was an emotion we struggled to deal with.

I’ll reach my hands out in the dark And wait for yours to interlock I’ll wait for you I’ll wait for you

On the twelfth month we started to struggle, it was unknown whether Freya’s memory would be returning and that troubled her. It caused various arguments between us and it was made worse by the fact I couldn’t help her.

“What happens if my memory doesn’t come back? What are we going to do?” one day she cried. That was the emotion she was stuck in; it didn’t matter what I said to her, I was always worried about what would happen to our relationship. I had to convince her that my love for her was forever and I wouldn’t be giving up on her.

“Your memory wasn’t the reason I fell in love with you” I softly smiled. “I didn’t just fall in love with the best of you like the way your eyes light up the room or the way your laugh makes me smile. I fell in love with all of you. I fell in love with your scars also the way you make sarcastic remarks, the way you cry about something from years ago and the way you sometimes get angry over the little things. I fell in love with the great in you and I fell in love with the bad you see in yourself but that is the great I see because I love every part of you, I fell in love with all of you and I will continue to fall in love with you every single day until it is my last with you.”

‘Cause I’m not givin’ up I’m not givin’ up, givin’ up No not yet Even when I’m down to my last breath Even when they say there’s nothin’ left So don’t give up on...

Fifteen months down the line and things were improving quickly, Freya hadn’t regained her memory yet but she was progressing. We had officially been dating for three months, it had been a wonderful three months. It took me back to when I first fell in love with Freya; every fresh emotion and new memory we had been creating reminded me of our previous first meeting.

On month twenty, a miracle happened. I’m not sure how but I was thankful, my beautiful Freya had been sent back to me. After months and months of different emotions, new memories, little arguments and lots of love, her memory finally came flooding back.

I’m not givin’ up I’m not givin’ up, givin’ up No not me Even when nobody else believes I’m not goin’ down that easily So don’t give up on me

After twenty-four long months, we were finally able to say our vows again. Even after all these years I still found myself staring at my beautiful bride with absolute adoration, I don’t know how but she looked even more beautiful in her wedding dress. A little tear fell down my cheek as I gazed lovingly into Freya’s eyes.

“I vow no matter what challenges might carry us apart, we will always find a way back to each other. Every morning I wake up and I choose you, I choose us.”

And I will hold I’ll hold onto you No matter what this world’ll throw It wont shake me loose

Our wonderful journey was finally able to continue, I was forever grateful for the time I could spend with Freya. I was forever grateful for the trust she put in me when she had her accident. I had many moments in my life where I wouldn’t give up on someone else, where I believed in them when they didn’t believe in themselves. Because when you love someone, you never give up on them.

[hippychick006]

4.14 - Sex and Violence

I’m going to call this the episode that hellers should watch a hell of a lot more closely.  This is a very long post but there’s so much going on in this episode that can’t be summarised and I want to capture it all so I’ll put it under a cut this time.

Dean wakes up and Sam’s not in bed, but in the bathroom whispering on the phone.  It couldn’t look more like Sam’s having a secret affair if they tried, which he kind of is, going off with Ruby.

Did Sam just call Dean kiddo?  Dude, he’s four years older than you and thirty!

Sam’s puppy eyes and “please” work on the guy they are interviewing who bludgeoned his wife to death in the opener with a meat tenderiser, so he tells them about the stripper he was going to run off with.

Sam goes to speak to the Dr involved in the case and oh my God, Dr Cara has dark hair, and if you change the last two letters, we get Cass!  Definitely hinting at Sastiel which is totally end game (me if I was a heller).

Dr Cara asks to see Sam’s badge again which he shows with a lot more confidence than when he was a bikini inspector in the early seasons. He also looks like an FBI agent instead of a kid just out of high school.   My bby is growing up

Hellers need to watch this episode if only because the doctor explains what oxytocin is - which explains why Destiel is not now and never will be canon because there is absolutely zero attraction between Dean and Castiel. I don’t even think Castiel;s body would release any hormones.

Dean walks in and Dr Cara brushes him off and goes back to speaking to Sam. Heh.  Later Dean accuses Sam of c-blocking him.  No Dean, she’s just into Sam and given your brother is really smoking hot, it should happen a lot more often than it does.  Dean quickly cheers up though as they seem to be on a case involving strippers, finally.

They figure out through a phone call with Bobby - and how did the Winchesters cope before him? - that they are dealing with a siren.

The strippers are named after Disney princesses: Ariel, Aurora, Jasmine and next up Belle.

Hellers, this line (which Sam says to Dean in the strip club) will be important later in the episode:  “Yeah. You see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most and then they can kinda, like, cloak themselves. You know, like an illusion.”

Remember it looking like Sam was having an affair earlier in the episode?  Now Dean’s checking through Sam’s phone to see who he called.  He dials a number he doesn’t recognise and it’s Ruby.  Dean’s pissed.  When Sam returns and Dean tells him he forgot his cell phone, Sam looks guilty.  Oh show.

They find out from Bobby that to kill the siren, they need some of his venom which may be in the blood of the guys so they go back to the hospital.  Sam and Dr Cara flirt and Dean rolls his eyes.

FBI man, Nick Munroe’s arrived and incidentally, the actor, Jim Parrack, is listed as the same height as Jared on google.  I liked Jim’s role in this, quality guest stars in both Cara and Jim.

Nick phones the number on Sam’s FBI card to check their credentials and we see that Bobby has a list of phones covering Federal marshals, FBI, CDC, police and health inspectors which is a nice little detail.

Sam persuades Dean to work with Nick to get him out of the way so that Sam can get the blood samples.  Dean agrees, but he’s not doing it for Sam, he’s doing it for the girls.

Sam finds the blood gone.  Switch to Dean who is bonding with Nick in the strip club.  Nick hands over an evidence bag containing a flower which he says was found at each crime scene.  Dean recognises the flower from Dr Cara’s office.

Cut to Sam and Cara talking about the case, and Cara says at one point: “Come on. Haven't you ever been in a relationship where you really love somebody and still kinda wanted to bash their head in?  ”I’m thinking yes, Dr Cara and that person is his brother.

Dr Cara offers Sam a drink and for the first time in Sam’s history, he accepts (he’s normally the one stopping Dean from taking things - like the Carrigan’s offering peanut brittle in A very Supernatural Christmas episode.

Dean calls and Sam rejects the call.  

Sam and Dr Cara get it on and that’s twice Sam’s been shirtless this season.  I mean if I’d worked as hard as Jared to get that body, I’d want to show it off a little too. 

Sam returns to the motel - and we get a beautiful shot from behind of what appears to be a freshly showered Sam walking down the corridor to the room.  Velma Dinkley is right, those shoulders...

Dean’s not in the room so Sam calls him.  There follows a whole conversation which I can’t do justice to, but basically Dean tells Sam he thinks the siren is Dr Cara.  Sam tells him he doesn’t think it is.  Dean asks Sam if he slept with her, which Sam denies and we get this from Dean: “Holy crap. You did. Middle of Basic Instinct and you bang Sharon Stone? Sam, you could be under her spell right now!” and also this one, “No, It's just...first it's Madison, and then Ruby, and now Cara. It's like... what is with you and banging monsters?” 

Upshot of the conversation is that Dean doesn’t trust Sam and he’s going to finish off the case himself.  I love Dean, I do, and I’d love to say he’s already under the siren’s spell during all of this, but he’s not.  My bitter Sam girl is starting to rise up and Season 4 only gets worse from here on out.  

The only consolation I have is that Sam looks smoking hot during that entire conversation.  Jared really suits the dark suit and the open necked shirt look.

Sam throws his phone after that conversation and I think we’re supposed to see this as Sam becoming angry and unable to control it.  I’d have thrown my phone too after that conversation so try harder on the anger front show.

Dean phones Bobby and asks for his help and then Nick to help him with the case and they start following Dr Cara.

Dean tells Nick his crazy theory, and asks Nick to just trust him on that.  To Dean’s surprise and delight Nick agrees.  Dean says. “Thank you. That's actually nice to hear.”

They share a drink from Dean’s hip flask which is a bad move on Dean’s part, because Nick then says Dean should have wiped the flask before drinking, revealing he’s the siren.  

Hellers, this next line is also important: “ I should be your little brother. Sam. You can't trust him. Not like you can trust me. In fact, I really feel like you should get him outtta the way, so we can be brothers. Forever.”

Sam’s been out - not sure where - and when he returns to the motel, he sees Nick sitting on the bed.  He asks what he’s doing there but gets jumped from behind and pulled back against the door with a knife to his throat by Dean.  Sam quickly figures out that this is not normal behaviour - even for Dean - and accuses NIck of being “one butt ugly stripper.”

Sam doesn’t struggle in Dean’s arms too much and I got to say he looks kind of comfortable where he is.  Sam tries to appeal to get through to Dean, but Nick shows Dean is under his control by getting him to cut Sam’s neck a little.

Hellers, this next line is again important.  When Sam accuses Nick of poisoning Dean, Nick answers: “No. I gave him what he needed. And it wasn't some bitch in a G-string. It was you. A little brother that looked up to him, that he could trust.”   The episode could not hammer this home more clearly, how on earth do you all misinterpret the hell out of this episode?

Nick sprays Sam’s mouth with venom and I’m only slightly disappointed he didn’t get closer to Sam to do it.  Honestly, Jim and Jared only had a couple of scenes but they were good ones and I love when Nick beckons Sam forward and he just goes.

There follows a brilliant scene between Sam and Dean with lots of hurtful things being said between them (again it sounds more like Dean’s accusing Sam of having an affair than anything else).    

My favourite line during this is from Sam and the delivery was perfect: “You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in hell. Boo hoo.”

BROTHER FIGHT!  And we should have more of these, if for the only reason that Jared and Jensen are seamless in the fight choreography when it’s between the two of them.  

Dean wins the fight, by crashing Sam through the motel door and it’s interesting the only time I can remember Sam winning is when he was hopped up on demon blood.    

Sam’s lying winded on the door, Dean grabs a conveniently located emegency axe and goes to swing it.  

Bobby’s arrived!  And just in the nick of time.  He stops the axe and stabs Dean to get some infected blood and to Sam’s anguished cries of “no!”, he throws the knife at a rapidly retreating Nick, killing him. 

That shot of Sam on the floor at the end of the scene :(

At the end of the episode, they both say they didn’t mean the things they said:

SAM: 'Kay. So... so we're good?

DEAN: Yeah, we're good.

Narrator’s voice: They were not good.

What I am going to point out loud and clear for the final time, is that for all four men, the woman appeared as a stripper and they thought they loved her so the relationship was clearly sexual.    For Dean, his siren is a representation of his brother.

Coming up, Sam and Dean go to couple therapy.  (Which I’ll come back to in episode 4.18 (The Monster at the end of this book).

If it’s not clear, I loved this episode, even with all the brother angst - ok, if I’m going to be completely honest, especially with all the brother angst.

Next up Death Takes a Holiday.  

[hcpefulmarshmallow]

Some Canon Stuff & Observations About Komaeda From Island Mode

--Because I have this list, and now you do too.

General:

Once he’s decided to spend time with somebody, he’s not very picky about what they do together. That said, he seems to prefer activities that can keep him engaged with that person, as opposed to singular activities, even ones he usually enjoys, like reading. He’s also not quite as fond of movies and the like, again because you’re engaging with something else and not each other.

Whenever he talks about something being dangerous, he’s considerably more concerned about anyone else who may be hurt as a result over himself. This is probably due to his bad luck targeting his loved ones before it targets him. Plus, you know, he’s a good boy. He cares.

He kind of jokes around a lot in a non life-and-death situation. At least, with Hajime. It’s heartwarming. I love his playful side.

He seems to struggle with eating around other people. This may be due to a lack of appetite as is a symptom of his illness, but he could also be self conscious, or nervous about his luck interfering somehow. He does talk about the many dangers of various foods throughout his island mode time.

A lot of the fear he expresses tends to be very...specific. He’s not afraid of the thing, he’s afraid of this, this and this that could result from the thing going horribly wrong in the most zany of ways.

He won’t waste the term “good luck” on silly, insignificant things. Since it offsets all the bad in his life, presumably he wants it to be special.

He doesn’t like unfulfilling conclusions. They’re wishy-washy, and leave him uncertain about what’s to come. This makes a lot of sense - the only consistency in his life is that good luck will follow bad, and vice versa. If he can’t tell which is which, he’ll just be blindsided.

He is capable of recognising hope in himself, and what it takes to find that is one-on-one human interaction, and feeling like someone actually wants to be with him. Of course, this isn’t only a good thing. The downside is that, if there’s hope within him, then erasing himself means erasing his hope. It makes his own life precious, too. (I’m not crying, you are.)

Park:

He’s more comfortable in open areas, since it’s easier to spot potential hazards.

He gets sick of the same scenery day in, day out pretty quickly.

He seems to believe in hell. Or at least, entertain the notion. Oh, dear.

Despite calling zombies and ghosts “unrealistic” (re: move theatre) he does appear to believe in curses, and some form of magic to some degree. The line there isn’t really explored.

For all his talk about how he wants something to happen, he acts pretty darn happy with the relaxing environment the island provides. He even says he wishes it could last forever.

He kind of likes the statue in Jabberwock Park that exists when they arrive.

Beach:

Just like everything else in life, ocean = danger.

He likes fishing, mostly because it’s not very dangerous and there’s still potential for something amazing to happen.

He really does not like running.

He kind of wishes he could have darker skin.

His skin is very sensitive and he doesn’t enjoy direct sunlight.

He likes building sandcastles.

He remarks that the game Capture The Flag “takes me back”. Perhaps he used to play as a kid?

Library:

Everywhere else, if you make noises about not enjoying yourself or wanting to leave, Ko agrees that you can, though usually reluctantly. In the library, however, he just suggests you go your separate ways. Nobody separates the boy from his books, I guess.

As mentioned way above, he prefers activities with people that keep them both engaged. However, in the library, apparently that too goes out the window because he has all the self control of a kid in a candy store around those books.

“There’s nothing better than having too many books,” apparently.

Even Ko didn’t think they’d need to survive badly enough that they’d have to burn the books. He’s thought of curses and divine intervention, but burning down a library is too horrifying, I guess.

When he stays put and reads, he isn’t affected by his luck so much, making it the most peaceful way to pass time.

Being in a quiet place with someone he likes makes him nervous.

Studying isn’t his favourite thing to do, but he’ll enjoy it more with a studdy buddy. (That’s actually adorable, thanks, I hate it.)

During hide and seek, nobody ever finds him until the very end, which actually makes him depressed.

D o n ‘ t i n s u l t t h e l i b r a r y a r o u n d t h e b o y .

Movie Theater:

He doesn’t like eating during movies. He finds it distracting, and would rather focus on the screen.

He likes the idea of filming memories and watching them back later. He even states that he’d like to have some of the security footage as a souvenir.

He likes the front row for immersion, but gets sore easily while watching movies. In particular, he tends to strain his back and neck.

He canonically falls asleep during boring movies. I can’t even with this guy.

As much as he likes feeling relaxed, situations that are relaxing make him nervous. Presumably because he’s waiting for something bad to strike.

Types of movies he does not like: realistic horror, “panicky” movies, anything that reflects his own life and experiences.

Types of movies he does like: mysteries of course, unrealistic horror and movies with themes he’ll almost certainly never have to deal with firsthand.

Amusement Park:

The carousel is his favourite ride, because it’s relaxing and not dangerous.

“This is Nezumi Castle after all, so we need to ride the mouse first!” - Yep, he’s That Guy.

Unsurprisingly, rollercoasters are a strong contender for least favourite.

Sometimes he laughs when he’s surprised though it doesn’t mean he’s having fun, and he’s aware of it enough to acknowledge it.

He doesn’t like haunted houses and presumably other things designed solely to scare. He admits to feeling fear in his daily life, so why would he then go seek out more, I suppose.

He has been to an amusement park only once with his parents, but he’s always been keen to go back. He’s very much more like an excited little kid in this location, so this is probably a big thing for him. Perhaps he wants to revisit one of the few good memories he has as a child.

He gets very upset if you suggest leaving. He’s like a kicked puppy. Haji, don’t be mean.

Military Base:

Unsurprisingly, he is a ball of STRESS here. Throughout all three possible sets of dialogue - so 9 potential options - he has only one Best Option in the military base, and even that leads to him pulling a typical Nagito, and getting worried over some very specific possibilities.

Still, he does kind of want to explore - but even upon admitting that, will concede that you’re basically asking for trouble by sticking around the base.

He considers the warship the least dangerous thing to ride. However, he still worries about it, and is very specifically afraid of being stuck in the ship’s cabin with no way out. Actually the “no way out” theme is a recurring thing for him, come to think of it. And he does admit to preferring open spaces. I wonder if there’s a little claustrophobia in him?

DON’T TAKE HIM NEAR THE FIGHTER JET. A lot of fans have speculated about his fear of flying, but personally I take it as canon. And it’s no wonder, really, when you look at his life.

When asked if he wants to look for fuel, definitely more safe than tanks or warships, he is more concerned it might catch fire than anything. Fire is a common danger, and he’s probably faced it many, many times.

He doesn’t like the idea of actively looking for weapons. It seems even Nagito’s above the outright stupidity of mixing his luck with things that are designed to be dangerous - you-know-what notwithstanding, of course. That was a special circumstance.

Shot Through The Heart:

When spending time with another person, he positively agonizes over what to say to them, to make their time with him more enjoyable.

He mentions that he wouldn’t even mind if Hajime verbally abused him, probably as long as he was having fun doing it.

He seems relieved when Hajime tries to take that pressure off him. He really does like the idea of being able to be quiet for a while and not feeling like he has to constantly contribute.

He takes being insulted to his face well, and shuts right up, for the most part. Even so, let’s not.

[marvelleous]

i want you forever (right here by my side) - chapter four

summary: Phil Coulson and Melinda May. Their story, from the very first day. notes: thank you to everyone who left me feedback on the last chapter! you guys rock :D a shout out to @studiocapsicum for beta-ing this and @marcuskaen for reading it through.

songspiration: our first kiss by mandy moore

read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Phil Coulson isn’t one of those “macho men” who have too big of an ego to admit when they need help. He’s not a pushover; he certainly isn’t a wimp. He’s not afraid to ask for assistance, if push comes to shove. It isn’t a recent development, really more like a life long habit, or maybe instinct from his childhood - he never hid his bruises or scraped knees after a particularly zealous game of tag from his mother.

If he really is hurting, he’ll seek a fix.

So after two therapy sessions and close to a week of insomnia, he cracks and accepts the prescription of sleeping pills from his doctor. After he nearly trips over his feet several times on the way home, and he knows that he’s made the right decision. He doesn’t want to become dependant on medication to wash the pain, the horror, away, but he’s back on duty in two days and if he doesn’t get some sleep soon, there is no way he’s making it all the way to D.C. without a major accident occurring.

When he gets back to his apartment later that afternoon, he takes a hot shower, changes into fresh pajamas, climbs into bed and pops two pills; exactly the recommended dosage on the bottle. He’s hoping to get some rest, maybe not wake up within the hour, drenched in sweat and his own tears.

He sleeps for two days straight.

He’s very much well-rested, content, and extremely groggy when his eyes flutter open for the first time after finally letting his body just shut down, but his sleep addled brain doesn’t register that too well, and his first assumption is that he’s only dozed for an hour or so. He just lies beneath the covers, deeply breathing for a minute, before he pushes himself up on one arm to take a look at the clock on his nightstand.

It’s five in the morning.

On the tenth of January.

He presses a hand to his forehead, massaging his temples, and realises that he’s really not as tired as he remembers being. His mind might not feel completely relaxed, but his body has recovered well, and it’s time to head back into work.

But five is still early yet. He has time for a shower, some coffee, maybe even a proper breakfast. The diner on the corner two blocks away has amazing hotcakes; fluffy rounds of sponge stacked high, fruit piled on top and around, all drizzled in a syrupy glaze. It’s a dream come true for anyone with a sweet tooth. They also have his favourite savoury breakfast of choice - a modified full English breakfast, with waffles instead of toast, a beef patty in place of black pudding, served with a gravy boat rather than baked beans. He will admit that he thinks about their menu more than the average person might. He hasn’t been in the past few months, but now is a high time to visit. He suspects he’ll need the comfort, to help him power through his next mission.

Two weeks working with Melinda May.

Sounds like something to look forward to.

But first he has to survive the four hour drive down to D.C.

Phil supposes he really shouldn’t be all that surprised when walks into an uncomfortable situation upon arriving for his mission briefing at the Triskelion.

He parks Lola in the basement garage, picking a spot where he’s pretty confident she won’t get scratched or dented or even brushed up against. He had spent several days off early last year repairing the “damage” from Sausalito; the areas where the paint had been chipped ever so slightly were not even visible from three feet away, but he couldn’t just let Lola sit there if he had the means to fix her up.

He bypasses the atrium altogether this time - he’s going to be in D.C. for a week before they ship out to Detroit, and even May’s jibes about his love of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s history won’t keep him from exploring to his heart’s content the moment he has an hour or two to spare.

One of the agents he recognises, Lanie from administration, is working at the reception, and he’s roped into a lengthy conversation about his non-existent dating life and how her youngest son got into a fist fight at school last week. When she finally stops talking to catch her breath, he manages to get the location for his briefing from her, and quickly slips away before he’s late.

He doesn’t like being late.

He’s never late.

He’s always early.

But when he enters the meeting room on the twenty second floor and finds it completely deserted, save for several empty coffee mugs on the table, he’s not so sure anymore. He steps outside and checks the door number, twice, before he enters again, scratching at the back of his neck, eyes scanning the room for any sign that he’s in the wrong place.

He tries really hard not to panic, running through a list of possible scenarios in his head. He’s at least ten minutes early, but someone from admin should have been by to set out the paperwork twenty minutes prior to the given starting time, and the cleaning crew would have cleared the room before that. Maybe he’s just really early and the meeting has been delayed. He probably didn’t receive the memo because he was the last one to arrive in the city. Except he’s got a pretty good rapport with Lanie and there’s no way she wouldn’t have let him know.

He sinks down into one of the chairs, one facing towards a screen, his back to the door, and folds his hands neatly in his lap, avoiding the overwhelming urge to drum his fingertips against the table top, or twiddle his thumbs.

Phil sits and breathes and he counts the seconds down in his head and by the time he’s reached eight minutes he’s really ready to panic because he’d screwed up his last mission and if he’s late to even a meeting about this one, he’s so getting bumped back down to level one and being sent to Alaska to join a cleanup crew. By five hundred and thirty seven seconds he’s reached a state where he’s forgotten how to breathe, and it is terrible timing on his part, because he doesn’t notice what or who has entered the room, until a mug of hot coffee has been shoved right in front of his face.

It takes the years of training he’s undergone for him to not leap out of his seat with a blood curdling shriek, and he doesn’t even have to turn to know who is behind all of this. But he does anyway, accepting the hot beverage with one hand, and spinning slowly around in his seat, until he comes face to face with exactly who he anticipates seeing.

Melinda May.

“Let me guess. The meeting is in the next room over and you-”

“I most definitely had Lanie tell you the wrong room number.”

He takes it all back.

He has a feeling the next two weeks are going to be filled with him falling victim to her practical jokes.

It’s really not going to be fun for him.

It takes May only five minutes after the mission briefing is over to get him to crack a smile.

They’re heading down to the garage parking together - she’d somehow conned him into agreeing to bunk with her at her S.H.I.E.L.D. issued apartment, rather than sharing an actual bunk at a temporary living facility for agents in town for short periods of time. It actually hadn’t taken too much convincing - she had a kitchen, which meant a decent home cooked meal, and more importantly, there would be no communal showers. It would be a good way for them to get used to having each other in their personal spaces, given what their upcoming mission would require from them.

“You know, I never thought I’d be married at twenty seven.”

May is looking at her left hand, where a giant rock of a ring is sitting on her finger, and she actually looks annoyed. For some reason, the tone of her voice causes the corners of his lips to tilt upwards.

“You might want to take that off before people start congratulating you,” he responds, and she snorts, twisting at the ring and pulling it off her finger before depositing it back into the box she had open in her right hand. He catches a glimpse of a plainer, silver band, sitting in the black velvet beside it.

His.

Phil is still not completely sure why he agreed to this mission. As a field agent he does need to actually be out in the field - but he’s used to organising operations, negotiating with local law enforcement, using his badge as a, well as a shield. Logically, he knows that doing undercover work has many benefits - for one, he’s just another field agent, not in charge of an entire mission. He’ll follow his orders and have the opportunity to hone his skills in an unfamiliar environment. He’s not sure it’s going to come down to having to shoot at someone - May would definitely beat him to the punch in that regard - but he might be able to learn to lie better.

For all his talents regarding the observation of the emotions of others, he has a pretty hard time concealing his own.

Maybe May can give him some pointers on lying through his teeth.

To his credit, Phil is only mildly confused when Melinda stops him outside her apartment and grabs his hand, forcing the ring he had seen earlier onto his finger. He assumes that she wants to get started on practicing for their mission now, which surprises him because she made no mention of it during their ride over, or riding up in the elevator. He doesn’t mind really, but would prefer if they didn’t have to do anything weird out in the hallway, where other agents could walk out and see them. And so he waits patiently as she unlocks her door, his own hands gripping the handle of his suitcase tightly.

The first thing he notices when he enters her apartment isn’t the layout that is so similar to his own. It isn’t the simplicity in the decor, the pops of colour in an otherwise monochromatic space. The first thing he really sees, is the man sitting ever so casually on May’s couch, flipping lazily through the paper.

“Jack, this is my boss, Mr. Coulson. He’s crashing here for a couple nights because his wife kicked him out. Mr. Coulson, this is Jack.

Phil pauses for a moment, deciding to take the time to observe. He treats this like a recon mission, Jack as a surveillance target.

He doesn’t have to concentrate too hard, because as May heads towards the man, he closes his reading material, throwing it haphazardly onto the coffee table, before standing up and pulling her in for a kiss.

Ahh. Boyfriend. Right. Okay.

He’d heard May had her fair share of admirers, he really shouldn’t be surprised that she was in a relationship with somebody. And he definitely hadn’t thought about it often; hadn’t imagined what kind of man she was interested in. Absolutely not.

He definitely hadn’t pictured a fellow specialist, tall in stature, a face made for the cameras; one who shared her love of pranks, someone who could spar with her and not tap out under five minutes.

But he had not expected a civilian.

And he did not take May for one who liked public displays of affection. He remembers seeing her interact with her parents during their graduation. Her stiff posture as her mother spoke to her and the way she barely cracked a smile when her father laid a hand on her shoulder.

Yet she’s allowed the kiss to go on for nearly ten seconds, before pulling away and turning her attention back to him.

“Come on Mr. Coulson, I’ll show you where you can put your things for now.”

He slowly follows her through the apartment, trying his best to ignore the sound of Jack sinking back into the couch and retrieving his newspaper.

He had thought after six years of sporadic meetings, that he had learnt quite a bit about Melinda May.

Phil is seriously reconsidering that thought now.

Maybe he didn’t really know her all that well.

Phil is not sure he’s faced a more awkward situation in his entire life, standing in Melinda May’s bedroom and eavesdropping on the conversation she is currently having with her boyfriend. On the other hand, he is quite sure that staying here for the next week, and their subsequent undercover mission, may bring up a whole slew of moments that he will find uncomfortable.

“Was that your sudden work emergency? Baby-sitting your boss for a week?”

Baby-sitting? He’s a little offended.

“Jack, I’m looking at a possible promotion. So I volunteered. The poor guy’s had a really tough time at home.”

The amount of pity in her voice actually makes him feel sorry for himself.

“Are you sure he’s not just trying to take advantage of you? I don’t trust those guys in suits.”

Okay he’s actually offended now. He actually makes a point to look down at his outfit and sees absolutely nothing wrong with it.

“Mr. Coulson is a good guy. And he still loves his wife - even though I heard she slept with their neighbour and is pregnant with the guy’s kid, and had the audacity to kick him out when he asked her about it. Said he never satisfied her.”

Phil cannot believe what he is hearing and waits with a bated breath through a pause that feels like an eternity, to hear Jack’s reply.

“Wow. That’s just… wow. Yeah, you should let him stay as long as he needs. That just sucks.”

He can actually imagine the shared looks of sympathy the couple must be exchanging in the living room.

He is going to kill May for this later.

In the seven days that Phil Coulson stays at Melinda May’s apartment, they learn more about one another than they have in the six years since they first met. It begins on the first evening, after a long discussion on who is taking the couch and who is taking the bed - Phil wins this argument. They’re both in the kitchen, May with a cup of tea, Phil with his mug of coffee. Jack had left after his conversation with May, and Phil had waited until the front door closed once more to exit her bedroom, doing his best attempt at a glare to show his dissatisfaction for May’s cover story on why he was staying here.

“What do you want for dinner?”

May is sitting on her kitchen counter, legs crossed, feet bare, holding her mug in both hands and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her like this. Away from a work environment, in her own space. She seems almost relaxed.

“Taking your responsibilities as my fake wife seriously are we? Or feeding your poor evicted boss so he’ll promote you at work?”

He grins to show that he’s teasing and she replies with a smirk, sliding down from her perch and moving over to stand beside him.

“If you want to spend the next week in the hospital with food poisoning, I will gladly whip up something for you to eat Coulson.”

He actually laughs at this, body shaking so violently he nearly spills his coffee. He can’t believe May keeps coffee in her apartment if she hates it so much - he thinks it might be for her visitors - she probably has people drop in on her often.

“I always thought that if you were to kill me, it would be a something a lot more violent, like a bullet to the head,” he comments with a smile, trying to speak as light heartedly about the topic as he can. He doesn’t want to think about it, what he saw, but he also knows he has to learn to live with it, because it isn’t something that he’ll ever get over.

“Don’t worry Coulson. I’m never shooting you in the head.”

She has her arms crossed, her posture relaxed, but he can see hear the seriousness of her tone, the sincerity in her expression, even as the smirk remains firmly in place.

“And I’m not going to subject you to my cooking either. I was thinking pizza or burgers. There are great places down the road.”

He grins, taking her tea cup out of her hands and setting it down on the counter beside the empty coffee mug.

“How about I make dinner, and neither of us end up in hospital this year.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes, but he’s really not joking.

If he’s this affected by an agent he barely knew dying, he’s not sure how he’ll react if May is the one who is hurt. Especially if it’s his fault. She doesn’t seem to notice the cloud of worry that has formed around him, grabbing her keys and waving for him to hurry up, calling out that she has nothing but beer in her fridge as she opens her front door.

He misses the look of concern she regards him with as she ushers out into the hall.

They spend more time at the Triskelion than at May’s apartment. There is a constant onslaught of new notes for their upcoming mission, changes that need to be made, details that they need to go over.

Phil actually tries both the pizza place and the burger bistro on the second and third days he's in D.C. He strolls the streets alone, exploring the city, taking in the sights. It's not quite as flashy as New York City in the evening, but he appreciates the view all the same.

May is off with her boyfriend.

For some reason, he can’t help but frown when he thinks about it. It’s not that she’s with someone, it’s how she seems to change when the guy is around. She’s different - different to the May he knows. The one who snickers at his jokes and plays pranks on him; the one who can pin him to the ground in under a minute and punch a hole in his stomach and rip his spine out if she wanted to.

It’s possible that the May he is familiar with is just an act, and the glimpses he sees of this one is the real Melinda May.

He doesn’t know; it’s one thing that plain observation just doesn’t help him see and he honestly doesn’t care which version is real.

He just hates that she feels the need to pretend, whether it is around him, or around others.

They allocate day six of their stay together to immerse themselves in their undercover personas, but before they proceed, there’s a conversation that needs to be had. They’re sitting side by side on her couch, and Coulson is really not hiding his nervousness well. He’d seemed fine on the Sausalito Op, but that had required a couple hours of pretending to be someone else.

This mission is a week long.

“We need to discuss our boundaries,” she tells him, turning to face him properly on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her and slinging an arm over the back of the seat.

“Boundaries,” he repeats back to her, and honestly, she can’t tell if he’s merely stating it, or asking out of confusion. He’s not often out in the field like she is, so she isn’t surprised that missions like these might be a little unfamiliar.

“We’re playing newlyweds. There are things we’re going to have to do, that neither of us normally do.”

She’s really spelling it out for him as simply as possible.

“Like what?”

She can actually see him swallow, his adam’s apple bobbing as he rubs the side of his face with his hand, and she has a feeling that he’s nervous. But she cannot glance if he’s seriously asking her because he doesn’t know - which is quite frankly ridiculous, or he just wants to hear her say it. She glares at him and lets out a sigh of exasperation.

“Like being in each other’s space.”

She punctuates her words by laying a hand over his and moving her body closer; she thinks she might actually be able to feel him shaking.

“Like touching.”

He swallows again as she raises her other hand to cup his jaw, fingers trailing over the stubble on his cheeks.

“Like kissing.”

She rises up onto her knees, moving her hands to rest against his shoulders, and hovers her face less than an inch from his. She can feel him breathing; he feels like he can’t, like all the oxygen has been sucked from the room, because she’s overwhelmed his senses.

“Are you okay with that?” she whispers to him, and he gulps, nodding slowly. There is barely any space between them, and it would be so easy to just lean in and kiss her, for practice, but he pulls back, rubbing his sweaty palms against his trousers and taking in a deep shuddering breath.

“It’s only pretend Coulson,” he hears her tell him, and repeats the words in his own mind.

It’s just pretend.

It’s for the mission.

And so they pretend, from that moment on.

He smiles and calls her darling, offering her his arm just to escort her to the kitchen. They drink their tea and coffee and talk about how they met, their backgrounds, their past.

His name is James. He works in real estate.

Her name is Tessa. She’s his trophy wife.

They re-enact their first date in the living room, rearranging the furniture to suit their needs. There’s hand holding and familiar steps and dancing together, barefoot on the carpet. She sways in his arms and they both lose focus for just a moment, thinking back to their first dance together at the academy.

They go over their backstories again, hashing out all the finer details.

And then there’s a table for two - her coffee table. He doesn’t pull out a chair for her because they sit cross-legged on the ground together, and there is no fancy dinner, just greasy pizza, but they talk and laugh all the same.

Phil expects them to break character when the time comes to retire for the evening. He can hear her moving around in her room after he’s changed into his sleepwear, settling down on the couch and quickly downing two of his sleeping pills. He knows he shouldn’t be taking them so often, and he won’t be able to on their mission - it’s too risky. But he doesn’t want to wake her up in the middle of the night with his nightmares, and he can’t have her find out either. The bottle ends up stashed back in his bag and he’s moving around, trying to find a comfortable position when he hears May re-entering the room.

“Just for practice,” she tells him softly, reaching a hand out towards him and pulling him up from the couch. He follows her into her bedroom silently, and stands to the side as she pulls the door closed behind them.

Phil watches as May climbs onto the left side of the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping underneath, sitting upright, hands folded neatly in her lap and just waiting for him to do something. He slowly putters over, and moves beneath the covers beside her, mimicking her position.

They turn to face one another at the same time.

“Sleep well James,” she tells him, and then she’s leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, and he thinks his heart may have stopped beating altogether. It’s quick and chaste and she’s pulling back already, a neutral expression on her face.

“Good night Tessa,” he responds, and then she’s reaching out to shut off the lights and the room is plunged into darkness. He settles down onto his side, his back facing her, and closes his eyes. She’s silent and still beside him, and he wonders how she can have so much control, even while unconscious.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to drift off, but the last thing he remembers before he does is running his thumb over where her lips had met his.

The first thing he remembers the next morning is her voice.

Just for practice.

They’re only pretending.

They’re good at pretending.

They’re good at hiding behind their smiles, concealing their true personalities from all those around them at this fancy winter retreat. They’re Agents Phil Coulson and Melinda May of S.H.I.E.L.D., but here, they’re just another pair of wealthy newlyweds, looking to have a good time.

Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes.

The girl at the front desk who helps them check in comments on how good they look together, but what she’s really commenting on is how good she thinks James looks. She quickly shrinks back into her seat when Tessa, who already has one arm looped with his, rests her other hand on his chest in what appears to be a gesture of possessiveness. She even throws in a glare for good measure as they grab their room keys and head off towards their suite.

They explore the resort, participating in every activity offered, chatting with as many people as they possibly can. James prattles on about his work, about the mansion he had just sold, about his own that they had been refurbishing prior to the wedding. Tessa is a bit of a flirt, going around to all the other men and chatting them up; a shy smile here, a casual touch there, the occasional wink.

But it is quite clear that at the end of the day that she only has eyes for her dear husband James, whose gaze trails after her as she moves throughout the room. They’re very much in love, and definitely not afraid to show it.

The perfect couple.

Maybe a little too perfect.

She’s really not a fan of the dancing.

But with Coulson as her partner, it’s not so bad.

Still, by the time they call it a night and head back to their hotel room, her feet are sore. He has an arm around her shoulder, and she’s leaning into his side, trying her best to keep a steady pace, but by the time they reach the elevator to take them back up to their floor, she’s truly exhausted. Week long missions aren’t too horrible, considering she’s heard tales of agents who spend years undercover; and they are only four days in at this point.

He guides her into the lift with a hand on her back, reaching out to press the button to their floor, and they stand in silence until the doors close. They’re alone for the first time since they left their room earlier in the afternoon.

“Tired?” he asks her, a dopey smile on his face. Coulson plays the loving husband well, she thinks. He’s caring, and attentive, but the truth is, she doesn’t think he has to fake it. He’s excellent at observation, and more importantly, he’s a good guy.

As Melinda, she would have rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder, but she’s playing a character now, and it’s a good opportunity to take advantage of this situation. She smiles softly, nodding against his shoulder, and sighs when he cups the back of her head and presses a kiss to her forehead. She actually has to hold back a gasp of surprise when he pulls back and kneels to the ground, reaching for her leg, trailing his fingers along the back of her calf.

“James,” she whispers, smile slowly morphing into a smirk as he begins to undo the straps on her heels, lifting her foot to rest against his knee. She places a hand on his shoulder for balance, because Tessa is a little bit of a klutz, and she does not want to mime falling over backwards and hitting her head. His fingers brush against the bottom of her foot as he removes her shoe, and she does her best to refrain from kicking him in the face for it. He begins working on her other shoe as she steps back down onto solid ground, and the cool metal of the elevator is like heaven after walking around in heels all day.

He finishes with her other shoe as they arrive, and holding both heels in his left hand, he slips his right arm around her waist, his fingers just lightly gripping her hip as they exit out into the hallway together.

“You know, sometimes I forget how tiny you are,” he whispers to her, lips brushing the shell of her ear, and she grits her teeth, forcing a smile to hide her annoyance from anyone else who might be watching.

“You’ll remember why you shouldn’t have made that comment to me after I crack a rib or two the next time we spar together,” she responds, covering her mouth with one hand and giggling as she speaks to hide her words.

He laughs, thinking back to their first ever session together on the mats, their banter beforehand, being whipped in the face by her hair, her pinning him to the ground minutes after they met. He’s so lost in the memory he nearly misses their room, only stopping because he realises May has paused beside him. She shakes her head softly at him as he quickly moves to open the door, once again ushering her inside their room before he enters himself, closing and locking the door behind him.

He takes another step and walks straight into May, who has stopped in her tracks, and he blinks once, twice, trying to come up with a quick way to ask her what is wrong without breaking cover. They had their codewords yes, but they were alone in here, and clearly something was wrong for her to freeze up like that. He doesn’t get a chance to ask his questions however, because before he can open his mouth, May is turning around, and pushing him up against the door, and then she’s kissing him.

Her shoes slip from his fingers, falling to the carpet, his hands moving almost instinctively to her waist, just holding her as they kiss. She doesn’t drag it out for too long, lips trailing against his cheek before he can feel her breath against his ear.

“Sensor went off. We’re being watched. Low range audio. High quality camera over the door. Facing the bed.”

He nods against her hair.

Somehow, their target is on to them.

It’s probably his fault - his head hasn’t been in the game. May was much better at pretending than he was. She seemed to be able to separate her personal life from missions in the blink of an eye; he couldn’t do that. It was too difficult, especially with her. In reality she is his acquaintance, somewhat of a friend. And here, in this hotel room, she is his wife - no, Tessa is James’ wife.

He is James.

She is Tessa.

But all he sees, all he feels, is Melinda May.

She’s kissing his neck, her fingers running up and down his chest, occasionally pausing to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt and he knows that she’s probably trying to maintain cover, but he’s not sure all this is necessary.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, using her hair as a curtain to block out whoever might be surveilling them.

“We’re supposed to be newlyweds. What do you think I’m doing?”

Her voice is lower, not just quieter, but lower, and she makes a point of pulling back, and tugging the ends of his shirt out before her hands gravitate to his belt, fingers hooking in the waistband of his pants and drawing him closer to her. He focuses on staring only at her eyes, and maybe it’s because of how dim the lights are, but he almost swears that her eyes are darker. He’s probably imagining things - he’s tired and it’s been a long day. She doesn’t let him get lost in his thoughts for much longer, because her fingers have returned to his shirt and she’s now sliding the buttons out of their holes, one by one.

He may or may not have pictured this scenario in his head before.

There was no way he thought it would ever happen.

When all the buttons are undone, she places a hand on his chest, fingernails scratching at the hair there, and then she’s biting her lip and he is done for. It takes all his concentration to shrug out of his shirt, letting it fall to the ground. She is not May. She is Tessa. He is James. It’s perfectly normal for Tessa and James to do this. They’re married; they’re in love.

He leans down and presses his lips to hers, both of his hands going behind her shoulders, one to bury itself in her hair, the other finding the zipper at the back of her dress. Once he has it between his fingers, he begins to tug it slowly down, his fingers trailing down the newly exposed skin of her back as he goes. He can’t see it for sure in this lighting, but he’s pretty sure there’s a pink tinge on her cheeks when she pulls away from the kiss, throwing her head back and letting out a soft groan.

Melinda is glad that Coulson can’t see her expression as he begins to pull her dress off, tugging the straps so they fall from her shoulders. It’s… it’s not hard for her to pretend. His fingers trace a trail of fire across her body; her skin is almost burning where he’s touched her.

Maybe she’s letting more of herself bleed through into her character than she should.

But they need this. They need to keep their cover. Nearly blowing two missions in a row would certainly guarantee that there would not be a third.

Phil tries not to stare as May’s dress falls to the ground, pooling at her feet, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t think there’s a person on the planet who wouldn’t. He almost lets out a groan of frustration when she catches him checking her out and just grins at him, arms reaching up to hook around his neck. She’s giving him a look. The same one she had last week in her apartment, when they were discussing boundaries.

There were none.

They’re keeping cover.

They are Tessa and James. Newlyweds.

She kicks her dress to one side and begins walking backwards towards their bed, giggling as she drags him with her. He has one arm around her waist, the other trailing up her back until he hits her bra. He’d tried so hard to not let his gaze linger - well he had tried, and quickly given up, but how could he not admire the dark green satin set she had chosen for the evening. It was the perfect balance between sexy and classy. He digs his fingers around the clasp, and his hands might be shaking a little, but her hands are fiddling with his belt and he’s trying to keep some semblance of control.

She gives him another kiss, this one quick, but he can still feel her smile against his lips before they slowly make their way down his neck. He abandons his task for just a moment, moving his hands up to her hair, gently tugging it, sweeping it over one shoulder and baring the other. He begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses against her skin, and almost regrets his decision because she’s making sounds, little grunts of pleasure that are taking away his focus. He bites down at the point where her neck and shoulders meet, and she actually whines, the high pitched noise echoing through the room. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to return to the task at hand, his frustration growing every second that he cannot get her bra off.

He can actually hear her softly snickering as he roughly tugs at it for the fifth time, fingers fumbling at the clasp, and he is beyond irritated now. He moves his other hand up her side, holding the band in place before pulling with the other, and lets out a sigh of relief when he feels it unhook.

“Took you long enough,” she scoffs, before taking the lobe of his ear into her mouth and giving it a quick nip. He’s mildly offended, but also can’t bring himself to care enough to come up with a retort on the spot. They can have this discussion as themselves later.

They’re standing at the end of their bed, and he doesn’t know about her, but he doesn’t particularly relish the thought of actually doing anything for the cameras to see. She’s already shrugged her bra off, flinging it over his shoulder, and he’s certainly taken an appropriate amount of time to admire her physique. He can innocently appreciate her body… she’d probably do the same with him. He’s not so sure about letting their enemies do the same.

He’s covering her from whoever is spying on them now, but one wrong turn and they’re basically nude on camera - not quite what he signed up for as an agent. And so he wraps both arms tightly around her waist and lifts her off the ground, just slightly, hoping she’ll get the message.

She does.

He tries his best to stay steady as she leaps up, her legs locking together behind his back, one arm hooking around his neck, the other cupping his face to draw him in for another kiss. He had thought it would be more difficult, kissing Melinda May. But it’s really not.

This isn’t real. It’s just pretend.

That thought makes things simpler.

He slowly walks them over to the side of the bed, reaching one arm out to pull back the covers, before pressing her down on the sheets, moving his body over her to shield her from the camera. They shuffle as fluidly as possible over to the centre of the bed, and he makes sure that they’re both suitably covered before breaking the kiss. He’s hovering above her, trying not to crush her with the weight of his body - though somehow he doesn’t think anything could break someone as strong as her.

“You need to take your pants off,” she hisses, pressing a palm to his chest and with the realisation that whoever was monitoring them surely wouldn’t believe that they were having sex while his bottom half was still fully clothed, he rolls off her and begins the unpleasant task of undoing his belt and removing his pants. He makes a point of kicking them off the bed - it’s all just for show, before climbing back over her, and he’s well aware that they’re basically naked aside from their underwear.

“How do you want to do this?”

She smirks.

“This will work just fine. And you might want to be a little louder, you know, really give them a show.”

His jaw drops at her words, and she gives him a sly grin before tugging his head down to her neck. He keeps his knees on either side of her, bracing himself on his elbows and begins to move. If he thought the noises she was making before were bad, these are a special brand of torture, designed to bring him to the brink of death. She’s moaning, loudly, with every move he makes and he feels a little foolish, but he has an act to keep up, so he grunts in time with her. She runs her nails down his back and he feels a little weak, like his arms are going to give out on him, but he manages to hold out until she reaches a hand down and smacks his ass.

His elbows buckle and he collapses on top of her, and god, he can feel her breasts, pressed right up against his chest and she can probably feel his…

“Jeez, you’re really packing down there aren’t you.”

He is definitely blushing now. In fact, he’s probably as red as the lipstick she had been wearing earlier - and he means that literally - with all the kisses they had exchanged tonight, he’s probably the one wearing it now. He tries to focus on keeping his breathing even, but all he can feel his her; a strand of her hair caught between his fingers, her body, hot and warm beneath his. He’s losing control of his body, beginning to react as one might when they had a beautiful naked woman lying under them...

She laughs and kisses him again, just once more, before gently shoving at him to move. As much as she didn’t mind the feeling of him pressing her into the mattress, she had a sneaking suspicion that if he didn’t get off her soon, he might never be able to look her in the eye again. He pushes himself up with one arm, and flops down onto his back beside her, and they both hope this is something they can joke about in the future.

They hadn’t broken through their boundaries, really.

But the lines were beginning to blur.

When Melinda next awakens, she expects the sun to have started to rise already, but she opens her eyes to see the room still dimly lit and she cannot comprehend why she has been drawn from her sleep this early in the morning, until she hears the whimpering coming from beside her. Her mind is reeling even in the split second before she turns.

What if we’ve blown our cover? What if Coulson is hurt?

The sight she finds is no less horrific than being caught spying on an evil billionaire.

Coulson has his back to her as usual, but his entire body is shaking, trembling, and she has to take a moment, a deep breath, in order to steady her own hands as she reaches for him. He lashes out as her fingers touch his shoulder, and she’s forced to climb over him, press him down to keep him from struggling. His eyes are closed tightly and his lips are forming words she can’t hear, words with no sounds, but she knows that he’s scared, he’s upset.

He’s terrified.

Gently, using her lower body to hold him down, she places her hands on his shoulders, and gives him several slight shakes in a row. When that doesn’t work, she leans down, lips hovering by his ear, and calls out his name, softly enough so the bugs won’t pick it up, but hopefully loud enough to draw him back to reality.

“Coulson. Coulson. Wake up.”

She keeps still as he slowly begins to wake, and sighs in relief when his eyes open. He’s dazed, confused, part of his mind still focused on whatever he had seen before she had managed to wake him up. In a different scenario, she’d make sure he took a shower, had a fresh change of clothes, and then ply him with a shot or two to help him relax before letting him talk it out if he wanted - she had a feeling he would - but they don’t have the liberty to make that happen.

The mission comes first.

And so she places a hand on his cheek, her thumb darting out to wipe away a stray tear, and ignoring his confusion, presses her lips to his forehead.

“You had a nightmare honey. It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

He doesn’t react for the longest time, and then just nods. She gives him a small smile, moving from her position atop him back to her place by his side. She doesn’t ask him if he wants a drink, something soothing to help him sleep, doesn’t ask him if he needs to talk.

That will have to wait.

What she does do is gently rub circles into his shoulder, calming him down with her touch as best as she can. She’s really not a comfort person, but she can pretend.

“Go back to sleep,” she whispers to him, keeping up the steady movement of her hands. She can tell the moment that he’s drifted off, but the tension in his body doesn’t disappear. He’s exhausted, she knows that much. Probably hasn’t been sleeping properly for a while now. Something must have happened on his last mission - she’d heard rumours, but she doesn’t want to dig this time. In their line of work, they see things, horrible things that can’t be erased no matter how hard anyone tries.

She knows he’ll get past it. Maybe he’ll even talk about it when he’s ready.

But for tonight, it’s her turn to stay awake.

Against all odds, they somehow manage to pull it off.

The mission is a success; all the information they had managed to gather on their target is useful for S.H.I.E.L.D., whatever the organisation was planning to do with it.

After that night they’d carried on as usual, albeit trying to show as much affection for one another as possible without making it seem forced. There had been breakfast out on the terrace, a stroll together through the gardens and a well-timed kiss standing in the falling snow when they were sure that people were watching. They had returned to their rooms in the middle of the day, Melinda turning to Phil with a grin, and he knew that the surveillance equipment that had been snuck into their room the day before, had evidently quickly been removed during their time out this morning.

And so they blend in, they continue their work, and when the week is up, they check out of the hotel, driving away in Lola. James and Tessa Rhodes disappear without a trace.

There’s hours of debrief before they’re allowed to go, both receiving a clap on the back from Agent Shaw, their mission commander.

“You okay, Coulson?”

May’s watching him pack, neatly folding all his clothes before lining them up inside his suitcase. He’s tired, exhausted really, but he doesn’t even get a break to unwind from the mission, because he’s needed back in New York.

What a life they lead.

So as much as he wants to tell May that no, he’s really not okay - that he needs to take maybe just another day off, visit his therapist, talk things out, he simply nods.

“I thought we could go and grab that drink I promised you. Thought that maybe you’d like to talk?”

His hands freeze halfway between the couch and his belongings, shirt held tightly in his grip as he looks up to make eye contact with her. She’s smiling, but he can see the concern that is there. She knows something is up with him - he’s not surprised, especially after that night.

He wants to say yes. He wants to put on some casual clothes and take her out to a nice bar and have a drink. He wants to tell her all his worries; he knows deep down that it will make him feel better, but he also knows that he doesn’t have good control over his emotions right now, that he might say or do something stupid that could ruin this friendship that is beginning to develop between them.

She already has someone in her life to care about; that’s not going to change because of these feelings that he doesn’t even understand.

“I fly out to Florida for an Op tomorrow morning, and right now all I really need is to get back to New York and catch some sleep.”

The flash of disappointment across her face - he pretends he imagined that.

He offers her a weak smile that she barely manages to return, and they say their next words in almost perfect harmony.

“Next time?”