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[ms0milk]

𝟏𝟐 | 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"You will spend summers in rainstorms and autumns in his orchards because you are Alderan and he will kill Takoban gods to get you there."

cw brief description of drowning and a claustrophobic struggle with the ocean. suggestions of suicidal intention and self harm. reader tries to fight the sea and your prince has horrible misunderstandings about it. bkg 🫱🏽‍🫲🏼 unethical rescue tactics pt 2, borrowed clothes, a fevered fireside confession in the bedroom you’ve been searching for 6.4k

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If Takoba is the edge of the world, Aldera is the center. You so starved for comfort, stand with your feet at the tip of the surf and tie your braids together.

You watch the sea at midnight and the winds coming off the water bite your scars before they chill your bones. Autumn at the edge of the world is miserable. Lakes freeze but the ocean is colder, it's full of tides, which you’ve spent the day reading about. The ocean has a taste, salt and decay. It is unfathomably ancient. You watch its many maws foaming under the moonlight and seashells burn in frigid water when you step onto them.

In the view from Bakugou’s bedroom, you’ve lined your boots up neatly in the sand and stand watch beside them for a moment. You’re dressed to stop a midnight siege, in your white nightgown and padded habergeon, staring so small and far away from the warmth of his fireplace. You in a dark blue world, framed by his open window. Bakugou would have sipped his tea and rolled his eyes at his newly fucked up sleep schedule and how ridiculous you insist on looking in public if his cup wasn’t spilt on the rugs where he dropped it. If he hadn’t already ripped his door off its hinges in his sprint out of the castle.

You couldn’t sleep. You have no appetite and no mobility yet for sparring. Just books. Just Uraraka answering your questions about the sea while watching her men train. The ride with Todoroki yesterday was nice but it left your throat stiff and you are still in your kingdom’s service. Today in Takoba, tomorrow and forever behind your prince. Long before the blue gardens and scars, before the kitchen, before sticky crowds and white horses and cold hallways, something somewhere started to die.

You take another step into the swollen water, it rises with the moon, to confirm your suspicions and grimace when a crab scuttles over your foot. Another step and you’re up to your hem. It would all be easier if your heart was still a forest fire. When did that stop? When did the rain come? Up to your knees now. Seawater climbs your nightgown.

As it stands you’re no longer a dragon, just damp tinder. The black sea sways you side to side at the hips now so gently– keep walking, don’t look back. You will free yourself from doubt and you will fight a god to do it.

“Moon makes tides,” Uraraka yawned and slouched and stretched as you sat on your knees beside her in the pit.

“Can you swim in it?”

“In the ocean?” she squinted, “Yeah of course. But don’t tell me you want to swim in this weather?”

Shinsou could only pretend not to hear for so long from his spot beside you both this afternoon, “The moon makes tides, and tides make storms.”

Good. Up to your ribs now. Wear the rock there like an anchor.

In the cold water your body heat becomes that much more apparent and it’s lovely like home. Genuinely hot for a second. Your nightgown floats up around you and you sink quickly from chest to nose when the sand under your feet drops to freezing nothing. The sudden dip shoots icy pain behind both eyes and the sensation of failing steeles every joint sickly sore. Walking through the ocean is like a fight, like driving a sword through someone solid, like braving a thunderstorm, but sinking into it is easier than sleeping.

You gasp and spit out the aftermath of losing your footing but you also fight too hard in anticipation of sinking and you’re suddenly in the open air up to your waist like a salmon leaping upstream. The weight of the nightgown settles you back down in the water to your shoulders and it’s silent except for the sound of waves kissing the beach and one another. Whistling wind. You bob only some ten meters out from shore, just short of where Todoroki held you back for fear of drowning and something wild like greed blinks open a sleepy dark eye.

You hardly have to move a limb to keep your head above water; the sea is free and gentle. You float easily here, where a lake wants to watch you fight. It’s part of the fun at home and in exchange you are safe in freshwater. Salt stings– saliva pools under your tongue to keep it from getting inside– but it also holds you up in the foam like two hands under the hip.

Is this what you were so afraid of? This is the god you planned on killing tonight?

Every day in this miserable place you have been beaten. You have fallen apart in some way, your hair is too messy, your new clothes don’t fit right. You lose Aldera with every step, heel toe– earrings that are no longer yours, heel toe– a weapon you can't return, heel toe and stand at attention– a brooch you’re too afraid to wear, to lose too, so you keep it under your pillow and wear silver seashells instead. Blue fire took the first victory in the forest and you salvaged your prince with your life thin in your teeth. Takoba took the second victory and strung you out in your nightgown for nobles to pick at like crows. A driftwood table took the third and Bakugou stole the fourth. The only time you have ever won here is when you decided to die. When you churn the water with your arms a pain echoes across your back not quite inside your scars.

Kirishima on the verge of tears, Shinsou above your operating table, Uraraka at your side, Todoroki holding you back from the edge of the world– your prince, wet to his knees– you have never, not once in your life have you ever failed. Their gazes make your throat hurt and you spit again into a tiny rolling wave that lifts itself over your chin and into your ears.

The goddess of the sea does not pity you.

She pulls you into her arms and laughs when you rub your freshwater eyes. She tossels your hair with silent waves you could never have seen coming. She reminds you of her strength. And Todoroki told you that you couldn’t possibly challenge her– eat your words sealace prince. Even just this once, witness me. You are a gem in the crown of Aldera, the left hand of the golden family. Takoba is no setback the sea is not your master, you are a chosen servant, not a mistake. It is so wonderful to be in the presence of a queen again and at night her water is soft and black.

The shore is farther than you remember when you finally glance back at the world. You bob like a peach, a frozen peach, and realize you can’t feel the cold anymore. Time to head back. Today was just a test anyway, to make sure you could put up your fight. Maybe sleep will come now that you’re starting to breathe heavy and now that your muscles ache again after days without real training. Ice creeps up the back of your neck from wet hair.

The goddess of the sea plays with you for a few more seconds and you can’t wait to come back in the warmth of the sun to lay on your back with her to whom you no longer need to prove yourself. The ocean pulls in its depths just as much as it pushes at the shore so you brace your eyes for discomfort and duck under the surface to kick a good length forward. It would have worked in a lake, at the center of the world.

When you resurface you are somehow farther than before and considerably shorter of breath. The cold starts to press on your lungs now that you’re truly using them. It’s okay, one more time. You kick once to let the goddess lift you up with her salt and breathe in the free air before diving under again but all you actually do is stir bubbles around you exactly where you started. If anything even farther. Your boots are too small to see now.

There are no storms, no raging waves, no rain, no thunder, hardly wind, what is putting up the fight? Whatever. You paddle above water, thankful for light clothes, and weary of the growing ache under your jaw– the start of a pulsing headache. More than anything you are finally excited for bed, but no matter how hard you push there seems to be a growing distance between you and safety.

Dread drops in your peachpit stomach and you start to feel long pretty fingers tickle your heels in black water. The ghost of the flame mage happy to drag you with him to the bottom of the sea. Irrational like a fear of the dark, but still there’s no more time for testing pride, you have to get back to shore. The little girl inside of you cowers when you take one more heavy breath and then release it to sink yourself as deep as the salt will let you. You can see the breaking point, all you need is to reach the seafloor and kick yourself to it.

As you drift down into the pitch black something so much better than sand or ghosts meets your feet. You connect with rock as your lungs begin to ache for air and kick with every well trained muscle your legs have, forward towards the shore. Faster than freshwater, you rocket to the surface and gasp excitedly, blink rapidly, and infinitely closer to white sand, and then immediately the goddess pulls you under again.

Sure you found the breaking point, sure your toes tease the start of the shore you want to reach so badly, but that’s what waves do here. Break.

Something so silent couldn’t possibly be this powerful, but your head is forced back under as your hips are pulled back out and you tumble head over knees, mouth filled suddenly with salt and sand in the darkness. Resurfacing is no fun task, choking. You’re thankful it’s easy to float in the ocean but saltwater dries out your mouth as you retch it back out from your throat into the foam and then there’s another break over your head to remind you that humans should stay far away from god.

You’ll die just thirty meters from the shore. Salt blinds you. Water deep in one ear keeps you just dizzy enough to let this sea carry you out once again, and shouting isn’t an option. Shouting or gasping, you have to pick one. Ache has turned to paralysis; muscles so beaten and a heart beating so fast you’re already at the last limit reached by your master, training to failure. Striking and swinging until you can no longer hold your weapon. Hours of training reduced to fifteen minutes at sea.

The bruise of your shoulder protests every paddle you force out of it and goes much stiffer much faster than the rest of you. In a way, the mage is drowning you. In every way the sea is much more claustrophobic than a war room.

The moon watches you heaving for air stuck between beating waves and being swept back out to sea. She doesn’t do anything. You are pulled under again. The rocks beneath you scratch your soft skin this time and your instinct is to flinch which fills your nose with water and drowning is certainly not as peaceful as poetry makes it out to be.

Of course it ends like this. A soggy creature fighting gods alone.

Of course he’s watching you, his captain, being stolen by the sea.

You surface forcefully with a grip on your scruff and while your body remembers how to breathe, magic every furious color of the rainbow arcs above your head. The water recoils for a moment around you in the force of his impact. Bakugou erupts from the sky as he always does into the tragedy of your life in Takoba and you have no control over your searing gaze when it turns to him above you, framed by sparks and stars. Halo from the moon.

You both fall back into the water but not so helplessly as a moment ago. Your prince hooks and arm across your chest, pressing your back to his front and with so much more strength than you could ever muster, rips his way through the water in half of a backstroke. Half of him focused on keeping you afloat and only half of him conquering the sea. His legs create their own current. He holds you and you’re sure you’re breathing loudly enough into his collar to hurt his ears.

You are an excellent swimmer. Weak children, drunk diplomats, tests from your master; you have dragged your fair share of victims out of rivers and as the victim yourself you know better than to struggle or panic in your prince’s grip as he drags you from the goddess, but you can’t help how your fingers scratch at his translucent tunic. Cling to the warmth of his bicep.

In twenty seconds he has reached the break. Strength like a war criminal, like a godslayer. He turns in the water, times it to match the swell of a wave for height, and pulls you chest to chest with a guiding hand on the side of your head to fold you into him. The sea drops you and you know what comes next. Bakugou anticipates your struggle, or a drowned man’s panic, any logical thing and wraps another arm around you tight as he pulls you both under, but you don’t fight a single second and neither do you breathe.

He knows the sea so much better. If you weren’t unraveling like a common soldier you would have realized too, just how much calmer the water is underneath its surface. Even with ears full of sand you can hear the wave crash above you but there is no pull underwater. The roll of the goddess back out to sea twirls through your hair but nothing else. She lets your prince push up to the surface and doesn’t stop you from catching your breath inside the crook of his neck. Eleven seconds to beat the break. What does he even need a captain for?

This time when the tide drops, you don’t quite drop with it. Knees in the sand. Back on solid ground you realize how hard a body can shake and then water is beating you down again from behind, and a warm hand has you by the back of the haubergeon to keep you from slipping out to sea or laying flat down to sleep in the surf.

Both hardly walking, and you more-than-half carried, you and your prince stagger over seashells like glass back to the spot where your boots rest like nothing bad has ever happened at all, chased the whole time by a disappointed tide. You collapse the second he lets you. You, useless with cold and vomiting seafoam.

“Why?!” Your prince chokes, similarly out of breath beside you, hunched over his knees from the effort of winning your war. You can feel the glare. You are warmed by it and then entirely numb again, in a terrible turn of events, to even his attention. The very last ember dies without smoke.

Bakugou, even in a temper tantrum, has never looked quite so disheveled. He’s been wet before, and pushed his hair back with big hands and caught his breath through his teeth just like this, but he’s never looked at you with such confusion. His eyebrows don’t sit right. Without a scowl his whole thing really falls apart, huh?

“Answer me, Eyes!”

You wheeze instead of speaking when you try to use your voice for the first time and spit out the last of the salt that comes up with it. He doesn’t move, catching his breath across the sand at midnight. Your prince really is so pretty and something inside is eating you alive to the beat of the wash of waves. He is a star and you are the bloody little creature beneath him always, not chosen at all.

You sit yourself up. Bakugou is beautiful. Broad chest and shoulders trained for his magic and a wet tunic that clings to every lovely shape, just a few feet too far away to touch. Unmarred face and shaggy hair. His eyes. His jaw slopes sharp, sharper still in the moonlight and dripping with water, up towards his hungry red eyes that eat everything they’ve e–

“Wake up!” He barks.

He’s not eating you. He brings back your focus and when you hold his stare this time it’s so obvious he’s not confused, or angry, not exhausted or embarrassed or exasperated. He’s six and he’s holding your hands in a velvet carriage, terrified.

Oh boy. You guess self-control died with your heart, because your shoulders start to shake in a chuckle.

Bakugou stares. Any fold of his brows melts immediately at the sound of your soft laughter but he hardens again when he speaks. “What about this is funny?!” and pulls himself up to his knees as you lower yourself to clamshells, not-quite-laughing but not fighting the smile either. This is exhausting. “You just tried to kill yourself!”

This makes you snort, which is ugly, and shuts your prince up entirely. One laugh like a lie and then another and you curl in on yourself, shivering arms folded above your head and forehead pressed flat to the sand. Something like an apology. You are redundant, not suicidal.

If it were a real apology you would wait until he spoke again to raise your head like Todoroki in the stables, but that’s not what you’re doing at all. You ache from the inside. Burn in fact. You chuckle again and spit salt one last time when you sit up, then grab for your shoes with muscle memory instead of feeling since the cold has stolen that too. Bakugou is staring again– it is irritating, you should do it less.

The ocean makes a lovely noise when you are not drowning in it. It’s much quieter and sounds a bit like laundry sliding over itself. Or apples tumbling into a basket. You are the first to your feet, clumsily, and you are not so delirious that you forget you need proximity to a fire. Anyone else might not be able to stand through this adrenaline trembling but how many apprentices have come so close to death so many times as you?

“Oi,” Bakugou growls, confused again by the wrong emotion for just long enough to let you escape.

The hill between the castle and the sea is overgrown with dune grasses tall enough to tickle your hips and that is what you decide to climb. Empty stomach, ruined shoulder, shaking legs, deep dead eyes.

Your clothes cling to you. They make you small. He can hardly breathe in the cold as he rushes to catch up, dripping what he's sure are icicles, and you look as if you could hardly stay conscious in it. Does your face feel as red as it looks? Friction or fever? “Captain!” And it’s obvious Bakugou can’t decide on his volume, but bulldozes after you nonetheless husky with exertion, “fuckin wait–”

There are sandy paths beaten into this seaside hill, small like children made them on their happy little way to swim. Bakugou makes quick work of it. You hike. You put all your effort into staying on two feet through a chill you could hardly ever imagine. Heat pounds in your temples, cruelly imitating Alderan fire when really it’s something poisoned like liquor.

“Please don’t follow me sir,” you call over the wind when the prince gets a few steps too close to catching up and he makes a sound almost like words, like words you shot dead in his throat. You know that sound because you have been shot at the same exact angle. Deadly isn’t it? He falls back.

Just for a moment Bakugou stops and watches, filled with something neither of you have the words for yet. Recovering just as quickly as you are succumbing to exhaustion.

Wait, he stares. Just– “Y/n.”

Wrapped in white, you are framed by rolling seagrass in the moonlight. You finally stop climbing and turn. You like a half-drowned painting. In a furred cape you might be a queen. From your spot smiling sadly at the edge of the world, your nose has started to bleed.

“Give me an order.”

Six and shaking in his hands. Eleven soaked in a fruit filled hallway, always working and fond of libraries. Sense of humor that doubles over his queen. Often covered in blood, staring too earnestly right now for him to remember that anger might fix this. Bakugou doesn’t breathe.

You turn back towards the castle alone and for the very last time, your body keeps the tears at bay. On a hill of swaying green grass and bright in the moonlight, your prince, frozen, looks so much like his mother you should kill him for it.

You always thought you were hiding from him on duty, only slightly more stealthy than a dragon. It got better when Jeanist stopped training you in chainmail, but your excitement at every small job bounced off the walls of his castle so obviously. Squirrel duty? You helped a hundred bastards back outside without pause. Sent up to swept bookshelves under the Great Oak and you're the only person he’s ever seen hum to themself so high in the air. Stablehand? Stable master more like. Seven and stacking stools to reach the saddles before Jeanist set you back on the ground by your scruff like his kitten. Bakugou can’t remember what went first, your heartbeat or his hearing.

The very first time you snuck up on him was in August under a plum tree, nine years old. He slept beside his book in the shade on a perfect day, perfectly alone and free of tutoring for the afternoon. Maybe because you were barefoot, but somehow even out of breath, the only thing that gave you away was your voice.

“Careful Highness.” He shot awake with that and figured for a moment that you were a dream while his eyes adjusted to the light through the leaves behind you– panting above him and holding tight to a plum. Like premonition your other hand lurched to catch another as it fell toward him, “they’re ready for harvest.”

Bakugou sat up. Off at an impossible distance for you to have run to catch plums, Jeanist stood beside a hanging line of red uniforms waving a beckoning hand.

“Laundry calls,” you whispered. As the little prince turned stupidly back to you above him, you set both plums on the grass beside his book and bowed.

Wait.

“Maybe a nap in the vineyard? Grapes won't bruise.”

Wait, I know you.

He watched you bow one last time and jog out of the shade back to Jeanist and Alderan laundry, just as he watches you stumble now in the dark, towards the faraway lights of a castle without the fire you need.

Wait!

“Y/n!” Bakugou bursts over the ridge and back onto marble pavement, what the fuck is he gonna do– your name won’t work twice, he’s wasted too much time. “Captain!”

You pay him no mind drifting away with your back still turned and with even less coordination than when you were dragged from the sea. You are deteriorating– fuck, fuck it. Bakugou, brimming with something to the left of anger, charges. If you hear him coming you do nothing to stop him. Not as he closes the distance with eight good strides and slings you over his shoulder.

"I–!" you jerk to strike instinctively, “Put me down!”

Good, you can shout. He still has time, you’re still alive. He’ll apologize for touching you later, for hesitating and staring, he will say everything he set aside in anger when you are not trying to kill yourself.

“Put me down,” you hiss like you know you’re one of three people that can make his skin prickle with threat.

“Not a chance.”

You grip the back of his tunic, clinging so wet to his body that you grab equal parts flesh and he turns away from your path to the glowing front gates all those hundreds of meters away, to kick in a door on an insignificant corner of an insignificant annex in the shadows of the castle that is only unlocked because it’s the same one he flew from, instead of his window, when he was trying not to startle you with his magic and into the sea.

You will spend summers in rainstorms and autumns in his orchards because you are Alderan and he will kill Takoban gods to get you there. Your nails on his back begin to burn with your silence and it’s haunting not only because you weigh less to him than a phantom, but because the smell of the sea follows you inside when there is no one else left to close the door.

Immediately it is warmer without the wind but he will not slow until he finds fire, because you are gripping him instead of screaming again– because you are freezing to death and he will not let you win under new circumstances after he worked so hard to save you from the first.

This part of the castle is his, below the kitchens, the deep white underbelly in the cliff over the sea where no one will find him except cooks and staff who keep his secret and the queen who kindly ordered these quarters be built before she lost her mind. There is no difference of weight or warmth when he sets you down in front of the only red door in the hallway. You aren’t a ghost. Even if you aren’t convincing. He throws the door open.

You would win in a contest but Bakugou too can make a steady fire. It’s still chirping bright in his fireplace when he crowds you inside of his quarters. Wood and furs. The smell of bread, everything so unlike Takoba. Hard surfaces cushioned or covered in anticipation of winter with red and gold and wool, forest tapestries from home– and it is a small victory that you take another step, then another, deeper inside without hint or suggestion.

“where are we?”

“You need to change,” Bakugou dismisses when you’re far enough inside to close the door, and pulls open a cherry chest of drawers at the foot of his bed. It’s draped in pelts and pillows. Faded herbs hang in bundles above you.

“have clothes in my room.”

“Didn’t ask.” When he looks over his shoulder, you are wobbling towards the fire like a starving woman, with two hands reaching subtly from your side. Good, shut up and warm up. Bakugou rifles through his options one more time and grimaces, raising his own black Alderan riding tunic aloft; it’s the only thing that’s going to be long enough to cover all of you.

He’ll sort out this shitshow step by step– dry you off, shout scream scold, get you warm, shout some more– a good Alderan lecture, and then tie you to him if he must since you obviously can’t be trusted alone. Walking into the sea when you thought everyone was sleeping. And for what? He grinds his teeth and grips the sids of his dresser with the realization that he’s probably not going to sleep again tonight. He’d kill you if that wasn’t what you so obviously wanted.

“Alright asshole, get ch–” Bakugou chokes when he turns back to you, sitting politely fireside with a dagger materialized in your good hand, blade pressed flat to your collar. He jumps, black tunic flying and shouts indiscernibly in a lunge for the weapon.

Not fast enough because by the time he makes one step, you’ve driven the blade down your chest and clear through your shirt. It falls open and your bare ribs seize in goosebumps this close to the fire, “told you I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“Drop it!” He wails, as if to a dog.

Oh how you will haunt him until the end of time. Less than a month with you, just some soldier from his castle– a prodigal apprentice in a kingdom of geniuses– an impersonable, silent, invisible guard, who should cause harm only when necessary and appear only in danger– a woman who does this job to a tee, and still somehow steals his attention to any corner of the room she conceals herself in– just a month and you have beguiled him. Reaping grim satisfaction from watching you wreak havoc in this place he loathes.

You sit in front of his fire in his secret room, half bare now that you’ve decided to cut your clothes off of yourself, and entirely bare when you run the lip of the dagger across your shoulder to catch the fabric and then rough straight down the other side. You are pink from heat and staring through him entirely unfocused, all chaotic braids and parted lips. There’s a dry track of blood smeared under your nose and he shudders to think what part of his back it was wiped on while he was carrying you away. The fingertips of your scar peek into free air. Bakugou can’t spin around fast enough, howling in anger.

You sound like you’re smiling again mournfully like last time, “following orders, sir.”

“Don’t call me that!” He roars and shoves the black tunic behind his back towards you. This room is small, maybe five paces wide, and so he sits as far as he can from you on the floor beside his bed, still within arms reach. Back turned.

What the fuck is so funny? This isn’t a headache this is sustained torture. Bakugou’s own wet clothes cling to him in dry patches of salt and stick and grit that he’s desperate to bathe away just as soon as you are tethered to another magician. In another kingdom. You breathe heavily behind him in a mismatch between effort and task and then a sopping thud reminds Bakugou that you are stripping to nothing behind him and piling your rags onto his fine rugs.

“You’re a fucking nightmare.”

“you’ll be free of me in a moment.”

And it dawns on him, seasick irony, that there isn’t a person alive in this kingdom but him who could stop you from doing a single thing.

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight you’re concussed.”

You pause your fiddling behind him for a second before resuming and you’re close enough that he can still hear your less than methodic pulling and ripping. A huff here and there. In the seconds it takes you to speak again your voice is still laced with the amusement that makes his skin crawl, “third time I’ve told you I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“Just hurry up.”

“was just saying a prayer.”

“Save. It. An excuse that fulla holes wouldn’t even work on Ei the naif.”

“right, because nothing gets past the champion.”

Bakugou erupts, out of unwounded fists to clench, and jerks around with every intention of barking at you. He’s not sure what he pictured before turning and he’s not sure where his voice went, but you are sat beside his fire draped in his black tunic with an expression he can hardly find the words for.

What is it in the way your shoulders hang? Exhaustion? The way your chin tips or your eyes flutter? Hunger? You watch him like you’ll eat him alive, like your life is the least of his concerns. The laces at your collar drape limp over your fingers from where you gave up their tying and so the shirt hangs loose and open, and much much too big. Bakugou has never thought of the shape your sternum makes between your breasts or what color the fine hair on your thighs might be. He knows the answers now because you’ve given up on posture like a selkie out of water and everything so unlike his captain– because something inside of you is slipping.

“don’t bother the champion with this,” your voice is still draconian. Even as your body fails, your eyes are still dark and infinite and possessive beside the glow of his fireplace and under a window that looks out over black water, “or Lady Mina, or your Lords. Don’t worry them with me.”

Bakugou mirrors you unconsciously in the way he sits close enough to touch. Why do you say that? You keep saying it, ‘Lady Mina,’ all month the same thing. Sir Sero, like he’s not a soldier in Jeanist’s rear guard. Like Mina and Denki didn’t grow up in the castle with you all to learn magic fifteen years ago.

“They’re not,” he admits because something about you unraveling by the sea sucks the malice like marrow from his bones. Maybe something inside of him is slipping too.

The pair of you slouch on the soft rugs from home and sticky with foreign salt, looking. Your next smile seems to take every ounce of strength, “what?”

“They’re not lords.”

And in a rush, horror ignites in the eaves of this tiny room like an Alderan dollhouse. It is a grease fire film of oil on water. He is the match. You drop your head to your shoulder and start to laugh like Bakugou isn’t watching the life evaporate from the top of your head and out his window in the heat that pinks your cheeks and blotches your chest. You laugh like you have life to spare, “course they’re not.”

You manage enough coordination to hold the chest of his tunic closed with one hand as you rise, still giggling bitter, nothing like the bells you rang for Todoroki.

“Stop–” Bakugou reaches for you as you walk past him towards the door but stops short of touching even the air.

“dream something sweet Highness, I won’t interrupt again.”

“Oi, wait–” He gathers himself awkwardly barefoot and still dripping seawater, to catch the door before you pull it open. You bow your head and reach for the knob at the same time as he manages to slam his palm and weight against it in case you decide you have enough life left to fight.

“Told you, you’re not leaving my sight.”

Maybe staring isn’t so much a habit as it is a system to keep you from collapsing under the weight of Alderan sun. You who watch the world carefully so that when you attack it is silent and succinct. As long as you’re only looking, just watching carefully, the world will never be in danger of you spilling the secrets obvious only to you, and your kingdom won’t have to acknowledge the war crimes it takes to teach a kid how to kill.

Bakugou looms above you and rests against his door on a forearm. You raise your head like it’s lead to look at him. Your mouth even opens to speak but then something like fire punches to life in the blacks of your eyes.

It’s not a blink this time, it’s a stutter at first– and your face is so flushed that it almost looks like you’re glowing– before something you see feeds the kindling to roaring. For a blessed second you aren’t smiling. You stare so deeply into your prince he can’t look away for long enough to realize that you’re reaching for him.

Why? Why are you leaning closer?

The first heat pools at the hinge of his jaw and then scalding follows. Why are your hands so hot? You pinch his earlobe between thumb and pinky and let your fingers graze over the ridges of ear just so gently that sparks itch where sweat prickles at his neck.

It’s still for a second before chills, agonizing, erupt up his spine, bone by bone as he realizes– as your prince’s face drops and his own hand jumps to reach his ears and what’s no longer there. His right hand grasps at Alderan gold, a tiny sun. His left only cups yours, so much smaller– and the ghost of your earring lost somewhere deep at sea. Six and bleeding in his hands, all grown up and at his mercy.

You smile in anguish, “I hate you.”

You don’t bother pulling your hand from his, only rest your head against the door and let your heavy eyes finally close. Nothing to hold back the freshwater tears now.

Bakugou almost isn’t fast enough in his shock to catch you when you begin to slide down the wall in collapse, “Y– shit– Y/n!” One hand pulls up on your own and the other reaches around your back to try and bring you into him instead of hard against the wooden floor like he’s still a prince and not just a man whose heart won’t stop racing.

“Y/n? Y/n,” he shuffles you in his lap where you landed, and breathes the shapes he hopes make the sound of your name as he searches, distracted. You are limp in his arms and entirely too warm to have been freezing to death a few minutes ago. Lips parted and rolling like you’re trying to speak. Running to safety with you on his shoulder, the seachill must have hidden your fever from him. He cradles your head to check for blood and holds your cheek when his fingers come out dry from your hair.

“majesty..”

Your heartbreaking laughter still bubbles up in quiet sobs and incoherence murmured, murmured, “..m sorry,” when you manage to see through the tears for a moment before falling unconscious again. Every apology laced always with “mitsuki.” You must have been holding it back. You must have been keeping the fever at bay by sheer force of will because now on the floor against him, your body is so hot it’s making his chest clammy. Sweat has soaked into the nooks of your black tunic and pools in salt licks between your breasts. Fuck Alderan fire.

Your prince gathers your shoulders and chest, your waist hips and exhaustion, into a bundle in his arms and pulls himself up with his doorknob because he will not let you drown, he will not let you freeze, and you will not win by setting yourself on fire. As he rises, blood leaks again from your nose. Tears fall aimlessly against his heart split to six like a pomegranate. When Bakugou is king there will be no child soldiers.

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[hometoursandotherstuff]

If you're not familiar with the town of Lily Dale, New York, it's called "The Town that Talks to the Dead," b/c it is a town connected with Mediumship and Spiritual Healing. (You can also visit and vacation there.) This 1912 4bd., 2.5ba. restored Victorian home is for sale in Lily Dale. It comes with all the furnishings and is only $250K. I've experienced this town and it is amazing.

It has a spacious entrance hall with an original staircase.

We can look at the furnishings since they all come with the house. Oh, I like that red lampshade. The sitting room is very large and shares its space with the dining area.

Beautiful Victorian fireplace.

The kitchen is very nice. I like the color of the cabinetry for this home.

The current owners have this small side hall set up as a sitting room.

This is nice. Double doors open to reveal a laundry area.

A shelving unit in the upstairs hall has a ladder. Very cute.

The primary bedroom is very large and features a built-in window seat and large nook.

Spacious updated bath has a separate water closet.

The other bedrooms are smaller, but still decent sizes.

Beautiful roof top deck.

Bedroom #4 is large. There's an outside door, but the home is big and has several additions.

Cute vintage bath.

Nice deck on the back of the house.

The 2,121 sq. ft. lot is surrounded by trees that provide privacy.

The town is near Cassadaga Lake.

This is the town's Forest Temple, built in 1894, an outdoor sanctuary where registered mediums hold a free daily Spirit message service at 4PM excluding Sundays. Forest Temple is an area of spiritual, emotional and mental upliftment. In the event of inclement weather, the service is moved indoors. Listen for the bell and follow the sign. 

This is the path to Inspiration Stump where mediums deliver Spirit messages twice a day.

Walk along the magical Fairy Trail on the edge of town and find some beautiful surprises along the way.

A fairy house along the trail.

The town is very friendly and full of delightfully pretty houses.

[slippinmickeys]

i MUST know about the unseelie court casefile

I’ve been intrigued by the idea of a missing persons case where the body of someone who’d been missing for 20 years was found, but they hadn’t aged at all. I also wanted to explore M&S at the very beginning of their sexual relationship and how that might affect how they went about an investigation.

I started it almost two years ago and have a couple chapters done, but haven’t had the time sit down and actually PLOT. Which casefile’s require. I also don’t want to release as WIP, which tends to take a lot more time because my neurodivergent brain needs the ticking clock of a deadline and the encouragement of comments to really get shit done. So here we sit.

I’ve released parts of it before, I think, but here’s the beginning:

Not far above the pavement of US-23, the forest dripped. The rain was gentle but steady, the highway as black and slick as a surfacing seal. Ahead, they could just make out the panning red and blue lights of a tangle of squad cars. The trees that edged the roadway pushed in and down, as oppressive as low-hanging clouds. Beside her, Mulder sighed.

They’d been awoken early by a call from a Sheriff three counties down and four over, who’d heard of Mulder by reputation. They had a body and a bit of a situation and would he and his partner come take a look? It was the first time that Scully had stayed over, and she’d felt embarrassed that she was there when the call came in though it wasn’t as though either of them had trumpeted her presence. She’d rolled out of bed and refused to meet his eye as he hung up on the Sheriff and dialed Skinner.

Later, when he walked into his kitchen, dressed and shaven, he’d said, “Listen, Scully, if you regret what we’ve been-”

“I don’t,” she interrupted him, handing him a steaming mug of coffee and finally bringing her eyes to his. “I don’t.”

“Mea cuppa,” he’d said quietly, raising the brew to his lips. She’d been forced to smile at the pun.

It hadn’t been fair of her to seduce him, though it had been a glacial, cerebral wooing, inevitable, really, in every sense of the word. Mulder was tender-hearted and obsessive and after their second time together, she should have known that no amount of her stoicism or sense of workplace propriety would keep them from wanting to be together all the time. Last night, she’d had a foot out the door and was pushing him away with one hand and pulling him back with the other, his fingers tangled in her hair in masochistic bliss.

They still weren’t sure how to be with each other, and that morning they’d walked down to Mulder’s car in a loaded, restless silence.

Mulder eased up on the gas as they approached the cluster of brown police cruisers and cut the windshield wipers. There were deputies leaning against hoods, wearing those ridiculous plastic rain beanies over their service caps and trying to appear important. Mulder pulled over, parking haphazardly on the berm and looked out his window, where a small inland lake spread out to the east and west, the body they’d come to investigate lying under a blue tarp on top of a thin strip of dark, mealy sand.

They got out of the car and the Sheriff, holding a large black golf umbrella, pushed his way through his men, stepping up to Mulder and holding out a hand.

“Thanks for coming,” the man said by way of greeting, and Mulder nodded toward him and introduced him to Scully.

“Call came in this morning,” the man said after trading introductions. “Dog walker found him.” He turned to one of the deputies, a younger man with blond eyebrows and a pixie-ish nose, freckles smattered over the bridge of it. “Avery, you got the file?”

Deputy Avery stepped forward. “Right here, sir,” the younger man said, handing over a beat up file folder; a brown, vintage-looking thing with a faux-wood finish. He gave the two agents a friendly smile and stepped back.

Scully nodded at the folder now gripped in the Sheriff’s hand. “You got an ID?”

The Sheriff sort of shook his head and nodded at the same time. “That’s why we called you out,” he said, handing over the file. “No apparent cause of death,” he added as an afterthought. “Forensic unit out of Richmond is on their way out.”

Mulder flipped the file open and read for a moment before looking back up. “Missing persons?” The older man nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Must feel good to close such a cold case,” Mulder went on before looking back down at the paperwork. Scully leaned over to get a look at it. The victim was male, was in his early twenties when he’d gone missing in 1976, last seen wearing white sneakers and jeans and a yellow striped top.

“You’re confident of the identification?” she asked dubiously, ‘76 being a quarter of a century past.

The Sheriff swallowed. “There was no ID on the body, but… we’re pretty confident.”

Mulder flipped the file closed. “Let’s take a look,” he said.

“Andy!” The Sheriff called out, and a deputy who had been standing near the tarp-covered body waved back. “Andy was first on scene,” he said to the two agents.

Mulder noticed that when he and Scully began to pick their way down the embankment towards the small beach, none of the members of the sheriff’s department joined them.

As they approached, Mulder got a better look at Andy the deputy, who barely looked old enough to drive. It was likely he’d pulled corpse-sitting duties in an act of hazing. His arms were crossed over his chest while the walkie clipped to his shoulder gave a steady susurration of dispatch chatter. He gave off an air of indifference, but he was plowing through a stick of gum, working his tongue at it elaborately, snapping it nervously through his teeth.

“What time did the call come in?” Scully asked, crouching down next to the body, her knees softly popping.

“About seven am,” he answered, then added, “ma’am.”

“Someone walking their dog, the sheriff said?” She lifted up a corner of the tarp to get a look at the victim’s face. Mulder watched as her eyebrows furrowed into a chevron of confusion.

The deputy nodded, continuing to gnaw on his gum, and hooked his thumbs through his shiny utility belt.

Mulder noted the pawprints and shoe prints of the dog walker who’d found the body. The sand underneath them was damp, but firm, and showed only a few other prints, all of them looking to be standard police-issue.

“Did you examine the body?” Mulder asked him.

“There was no pulse, no ID on him,” the deputy replied.

“How did you-”

“Hey Mulder?” There was a sharpness to her tone that made Mulder stop talking. “Can you take a look here?”

Scully peeled back the corner of the tarp, revealing a young-looking man with dark hair. He was dressed in jeans, white tennis shoes and a yellow striped tee shirt. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Mulder glanced down at his hand, which was still holding the archaic looking missing persons file. “Huh,” he said. Scully reached up and touched his wrist, and he knew that she’d find his pulse beating rabbit-quick.

“If you don’t mind,” the deputy said, clearing his throat. “I’m going to…” he hooked a thumb up toward the rest of his compatriots and beat a hasty retreat.

“Those clothes don’t look twenty years old,” Mulder said.

“Twenty six,” Scully corrected, still hunched close to the ground. “Can I see the file?” Mulder handed it over without a word, and Scully flipped through it quickly, her eyes scanning the contents.

“This can’t be right,” she said.

[universitypenguin]

Chapter XIV

Summary: Lloyd sets his sights on orchestrating Holbrook’s downfall and uses skills from his former life to serve up his own brand of justice. Meanwhile, Princess interviews a witness who casts doubt on key information in the case. 

Masterlist

Word Count: 7,352

Warnings: Explicit discussion of murder and serial abductions. Mention of extortion, police corruption, drugs, and kidnapping. Spy/intelligence agency themes, general violence depiction of criminal behavior. Minor foul language. Only appropriate for 18+ readers. No minors. 

Chapter XIV

Lloyd scowled at the muddy road as he navigated around the section that had been washed out by last night’s thunderstorm. The damage to the ranch’s main road aggravated his simmering frustration. He would need to order a truckload of gravel first thing on Monday. 

He’d left the house at dawn and spent the day running around like a chicken with its head cut off, searching for Elliot. As light faded into the western sky, he had nothing to show for the effort. Every potential hiding spot he’d searched turned up empty. He’d spent the morning checking abandoned hunting cabins and old flop houses he remembered druggies frequenting. After lunch he expanded his search radius to the forest service cabins up in the Sawtooth mountains, then hunting blinds, and remote campgrounds. 

In the evening, he’d driven out to Redfish Lake, apprehension growing with each mile, and searched the boat shed. It was empty. The only residents he’d found were of the eight legged variety. After closing up the shed, he’d surveyed the lake’s perimeter, visiting the remote places with heavy foliage that could disguise the activity associated with disposing of a body. None of them appeared disturbed. Overall, the day had been a waste. 

The weight of failure settled over him as his eyes lit on an unfamiliar sight ahead. 

A strange pickup truck was parked in front of the ranch house. Lloyd’s gut tightened. He jerked the wheel and pulled off into the cover of a grove of trees. Holbrook wouldn’t drive the beat up ‘97 Ford parked in the yard if his life depended on it, but it would be just like him to send someone else to do his dirty work. Concealing his vehicle in the trees, Lloyd reached behind the seat for the PTR-91 rifle he’d stashed there and slung it over his shoulder. He secured it to his back and checked his ankle holster for Joe’s Sig Sauer. In the shoulder holster he wore a Glock17 - his weapon of choice in his previous life. 

The weight rested comfortably in his palm as he snuck through the trees and across the lawn. He kept his finger wrapped around the trigger guard, and the weapon hidden behind his thigh, as he climbed the steps to the porch. Every creak of the wood under his boots felt magnified as he approached the door. He scanned the shadows along the edge of the porch, searching for signs of movement. The front door was unlocked, and the knob turned easily. 

The scent of fresh coffee surprised him. Lloyd stepped inside, gun raised and took measured steps as he swept the living room. His guest hadn’t turned the lights on. He glanced around, seeking signs of the intruder, and spun to the kitchen. The brightness from the picture window stung his eyes, blurring his vision for a moment. When they refocused, his heart skipped a beat. 

Elliot Hansen sat at the kitchen table. He was slouched over a mug of coffee, which if the dark rings under his eyes were anything to go by, he desperately needed. 

“Lloyd. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

The tension drained away. He lowered the gun and studied his cousin for a moment before turning back to shut the front door. Lloyd laid the Glock on the table and sat down across from Elliot. A dozen questions filled his mind, but he hesitated to ask them. Elliot didn’t fill the silence. He just took a long drink from his coffee, looking ready to fall asleep at any moment. 

“Elliot?” Lloyd found his voice unexpectedly soft as relief shifted to concern. “What happened? Why did you come here?” 

“I need your help.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You picked your way through the crowd of shoppers, scanning ahead. The entrance to Zach’s office was between a hand-rolled ice cream shop and a Kate Spade store. If you weren’t paying attention, the discreetly placed entry was easy to miss. It was painted the same color as the wall and served as access to the outlet mall’s second floor, which had been converted to office space during the Great Recession. You found the door and unlocked it with the code he’d sent. 

The curving marble stairs led to a wide corridor brightened by tasteful chandeliers and intermittent skylights that invited in the natural light. In sharp contrast to the busy mall, this level was quiet. At the end of the hall you reached his office, pressed the button, and waited for the chime that announced the door had been unlocked. 

Zach was in his office with his feet propped up on his desk. The soles of his moc-toe Carhartt boots were so worn that you could hardly make out the original tread pattern. The deep worry lines in his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes immediately caught your attention. Before you could ask, his expression shifted into a smirk. 

“Morning, Princess. What brings you in so early on this lovely Saturday?” 

“Ha ha. You called me.” 

“And was shocked when you picked up the phone. I was going to leave a voicemail.” 

“I got up early to meal prep, then remembered Lloyd’s fridge is fully stocked.”

Zach made a face. “Be careful in there, he eats weird stuff.” 

“I can’t take that warning seriously from a man who ate fried rattlesnake and liked it.” 

“A man has to draw the line somewhere and I draw mine at blood pudding.” 

“Do I want to know?”

“If it looks like sausage and it’s in his fridge, don’t touch it.” 

“I’ll take your word for it. Now, why am I here?”

“With Lloyd in Idaho, we don’t have a Mandarin translator, so I called in a favor from an ex-teammate. Roth has cleared him to work on the case.” 

“What are we doing that requires a translator?” 

“An interview. I got in touch with the archivist in Julia’s home town. He asked to meet after work, so you have an hour to prepare.” 

You took the overflowing file he extended. 

“When did you put all this together?”

“Yesterday and last night.” 

“Have you slept?”

“No, which is why you’re doing the interview. I’m heading home to crash once your translator gets here. He’s apparently running late.”

“It’s Saturday, no one’s late on Saturday,” you said. 

“I like the way you think.” 

A deep voice behind you made you jump. You dropped the file and whirled, catching your heel on the threshold, and falling with an undignified squeak. A pair of strong arms stopped you from hitting the ground and pulled you upright. Gasping, you braced a hand on your rescuer’s shoulder and turned ninety degrees to look at him. He had dark brown hair and a short, trim beard that emphasized his high cheekbones. His eyes, an unusual blend of blue and green, were crinkled with amusement. A full, expressive mouth was drawn into a crooked half smile at your expense. 

“Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

The newcomers’ accent was crisper than Zach’s drawl, but not as familiar. 

You noticed he dropped the ‘r’ in darling, turning it into ‘dah-ling.’ Immediately, your mind went to New England, but the way he rolled his vowels was distinctly Southern. The vestiges of a southern accent, perhaps? 

“I’m fine. I didn’t realize you were behind me.”

“How’d you get in?” Zach asked, his voice edged with annoyance. 

“I slipped in behind her.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“To see if I could.” 

He flashed a Cheshire Cat grin, full of mischief. Your disapproval melted at his boyish enjoyment. Wasn’t it better to find a weakness now, than when it really counted?

“I’m having Jake update the alarm system first thing when he’s back. Y/N, this is Marco Lattimer. He and I served together on the teams. Besides being a first class troublemaker, he’s fluent in five languages.”

Marco smirked. “Fluent in five, but I speak seven.” 

“Wow. That’s… impressive.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Marco will be your translator. I’ve already briefed him on the case.” 

Zach turned to Marco, eyes sharpening. “Lattimer, don’t even think about flirting with my colleague.”

“What if she doesn’t mind?” Marco said, winking at you. 

“She’s Lloyd’s research assistant and you’ll have to deal with him regarding the ‘what if’ part, but I’d advise against finding out. Princess, you’ve still got that taser I gave you? Marco’s harmless, but if he gets on your nerves, you have my permission to zap him.” 

You grinned at Marco’s disgruntled expression. 

“I’m sure we’ll get along fabulously,” you said. “Go home Zach, I can handle this.” 

Ten minutes later you were in the conference room with Marco, waiting for the Zoom call to start. 

“So, how’d you end up working with Lloyd?” Marco asked. 

“I interned at his law firm. He stole me from the paralegal department for my research skills.” 

“Sorry to hear that. It must be miserable to be around him all the time. I swear, he’s the reason lawyers get a bad rap. He could teach classes on how to be insufferable.” 

This was a sentiment you’d heard many times before. 

“Lloyd and I get on fine.” 

“Do you have the patience of a saint, an addiction to benzos, or just do a lot of meditation?” 

“It depends on the day. Most of the time meditation works, but a stash of benzos is always a good back up plan.” 

By the time the computer lit up with the incoming call, you and Marco were on friendly terms. He was charming, funny, and definitely flirting with you. The flirting didn’t concern you because you sensed his pursuit was less about genuine interest and more about target practice. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and folded his arms in a way that showcased his biceps. You would’ve thought it was deliberate but his posture was too nonchalant to be premeditated. 

You relied on Marco to make sure Mr. Liu was comfortable and let him engage Liu in small talk for a few minutes. Working with a translator always provided a great excuse to sit back and observe your subject’s mannerisms before starting the interview. Mr. Liu appeared to be in his sixties, with horn-rimmed glasses and neatly combed hair. He wore casual office attire and judging by the fit of his light blue button down, he starched his shirts. He fit the role of village archivist like he’d been sent straight from central casting. After he was settled, you turned the discussion toward pressing matters. 

“Did you have any personal connection to Julia or her family?”

Mr. Liu spoke and Marco translated. 

“Yes, I knew her family. Her parents were lovely people. Unfortunately, they passed away some years ago.” 

“I'm sorry to hear that. Are you familiar with the circumstances of Julia's death?” 

“Yes, we were all horrified by the tragedy. It was a shocking incident that saddened the entire community. The pain it caused her family was immeasurable.” 

“The investigation into Julia's death has been reopened based on fresh evidence. DNA tests have revealed a connection between her and another woman who was murdered in a similar manner. They’re believed to be full siblings. Does Julia have an older sister?” 

Mr. Lui’s brow furrowed, and he paused for a long moment. 

“That's impossible. Julia's parents were not together for long before she was born. Her father had left the island to serve in the army and spent three years stationed in Vietnam prior to her birth. There is no chance of an older sibling.” 

His certainty piqued your attention. 

“So, her father was away during that time. Do you have any records that could shed light on Julia's family or explain the existence of an older sibling?”

The archivist’s voice was firm as he responded. Even without Marco’s translation you would’ve understood the statement as a denial. 

“I assure you, there was no other child. Julia's parents were committed to each other and their daughter. The entire village would have known if there was another pregnancy or a sibling. It's simply not possible.” 

You leaned closer, eager to see his reaction to your next words. 

“Mr. Liu, we have evidence suggesting otherwise. We need to uncover the truth about Julia's past, no matter how unsettling it might be. Can you think of any reason they kept this information hidden?”

His head lowered, shoulders rising in symmetry as he frowned. 

Liu stumbled over his words as he answered. Translating like you’d asked him to, Marco repeated his statement verbatim. 

“I… I can't imagine why or… how such information would have been concealed. Our village is tight-knit, and secrets are rare. Not rare to be kept, but rare not to be noticed and revealed. If there's something hidden, it must have been for a grave reason and Julia’s parents weren’t that sort of people.” 

“Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Liu. We appreciate your time. If anything further comes to mind, please contact us, or the Virginia State Police, directly.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Lloyd sat down across from Elliot. He didn’t totally disarm himself but rested the rifle on his thighs under the table. 

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Joe had a stash of drugs. A big one, according to Holbrook. He thinks I know where it is.” 

“Why?”

Elliot rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been taking care of the ranch. Joe paid me for it. He could have hired a cowboy, but you know Joe. He didn’t trust people he didn’t know. The work brought me up here at least a couple times each week for the past three years. What conclusion do you think Holbrook drew from that pattern?” 

“And? Was he right?” 

“No! Damn it, Lloyd! It took me years to get clean, I wasn’t moving his drugs!” 

Lloyd knew, given Elliot’s history, Joe wouldn’t have trusted him around the product. All the same, he had to ask, because one good look at his cousin tipped off Lloyd’s intuition that Elliot wasn’t as clean as he claimed to be. 

“I don’t know about a stash of drugs. Joe never told me anything about his business and I didn’t ask. We barely talked, except for emails and text messages about the ranch. He always paid me on time and I appreciated the side income. That was it. But the Sheriff won’t let this thing go.”

Twenty kilos of coke, thirty of heroin, either would be worth more than a million on the street and small enough to hide in a carry-on case. 

Lloyd sighed. “Holbrook has to go.” 

“He’s untouchable.”

“If I learned anything in the past twenty years, it’s that no one is untouchable.” 

“This isn’t London, or Berlin, or some fancy place you’ve been. It’s southeastern Idaho and Holbrook is the King.” 

Lloyd grunted. “To be clear, you’re sure this stash actually exists? It wasn’t sold off years ago?” 

“I can’t be sure, but Joe always preferred to have a backup plan.” 

That rang true. A stash of drugs would’ve served as insurance against stock market fluctuations, housing crises, or whatever rattled the economy next year. 

“Alright. Tell me about Holbrook. What’s his weak point?” 

Elliot stared. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly. Who has a grudge against him? Are there any deputies on his payroll?”

“Aside from me, I don’t know of any grudges, but his department has a suspiciously high turnover rate.” 

“Ex-associates? A disgruntled secretary? Jilted lover?” 

“Uh… would a former drug dealer count?” Elliot asked.

“Does this drug dealer have a name?” 

“Carl Shepherd. The Sheriff gave him carte blanche to deal locally, then the feds came sniffing around. Holbrook cut him loose and they’re not on good terms, but Shepherd says he has Holbrook in his pocket.” 

If the dealer had two brain cells to rub together, he’d have exhorted Holbrook for protection. Lloyd begrudgingly approved of the plan. 

“But he’s too scared of the Sheriff to flip on him.” 

“Why bite the hand that feeds you?” Lloyd murmured. 

His mind moved quickly, considering the various options available. Elliot grimaced. 

“I’m never going to get out of this mess.” 

“How do you feel about pulling a kidnapping? Say, tonight?”

“Uh… given how that worked out for you last time… lukewarm.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve turned over a new leaf. Carl Shepherd doesn’t have any ex-spooks overly invested in his well-being, though, right?”

“Not that I know of,” Elliot said.

“Great, then let’s get this show on the road.” 

After some persuasion, Elliot agreed to the plan. He was nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs as he drove them into town in his rattle trap pickup. In contrast, Lloyd was bubbling with excitement, a feeling that intensified as they navigated the narrow lanes of the Oxiana Trailer Park. It was akin to the anticipation before a rollercoaster dropped into free fall - an exhilaration he’d missed from his old life but only realized now. Elliot parked in a shadowy spot about a hundred yards from Shepherd’s house. 

He pointed to a gray trailer with peeling paint. “That’s his place. He drives a ‘68 Camaro.” 

“Nice car.” 

“Uh-huh. What’s your plan, again? You weren’t exactly clear about the how.” 

“We’ll see how it plays out. Kidnappings never quite go according to plan.” 

“You’d know.” 

Lloyd snorted. “Shut up. I’ve seen your rap sheet, you’ve got no room to talk.” 

“I was high for that stuff.”

“Yeah? Same.”

Elliot turned, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as he studied Lloyd. “Are you kidding? You were the quarterback, the golden boy. You never touched that shit.” 

“I took Adderall to cope with test anxiety and smoked weed.”

“That’s your drug of choice? Adderall? Dude, that’s pathetic.”

“It started with light stuff. Weed, then Adderall. Senior year I started popping Xanax to cope with anxiety. At first it was just when I was struggling, then it became a daily habit.” 

Elliot considered him. “I knew you were into weed, but not the rest.”

“Things didn’t get serious until I was at Harvard. I got hooked on pain pills after a football injury and when the team doctor wouldn’t give me more Vicodin, I bought Percocet on the street. From there I got into Ketamine, Valium, and Prozac. The market for drugs was thriving on campus, so I bought extras and re-sold it to the partiers. It didn’t take long before I was taking my own product.” 

“Joe would’ve skinned you alive.” 

“Beaten me to death is more likely.”

“What’d you get hooked on the most? Percocet?”

“Cocaine. I had a taste for Ecstasy, too. My main addiction was Coke, with a little Xanax in the mix. When I graduated and had the money for it, I got back on Vicodin.”

“Damn. You know what really shocks me?” Elliot asked.

“What?”

“You went for the cheap stuff. Coke? Back in the day, I could get a bag of Coke for like sixty, seventy bucks. Meth was like six times that much.” 

Lloyd chuckled. “I’d seen what meth and heroin did to a person. Cocaine felt less risky and more… fun. Until I was in prison, I didn’t think I was addicted.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I kept a lot of secrets before. Now I try not to. Also, if you think I don’t get what it’s like to have your past catch up with you, I want you to know that I do.” 

Elliot ducked his head, looking away. 

Lloyd turned back to the road. They sat in silence for the next twenty minutes while the sun dipped behind the horizon. A car pulled around the corner with no headlights on and Lloyd squinted, trying to make out the model. 

“Is that him?”

Elliot straightened up. “Yeah. That’s him.” 

They watched as Carl turned into the driveway and parked, then walked around to the trunk to unload grocery bags.

“What now?” Elliot asked.

“Wait here for thirty seconds, then go up to him. Get his attention. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Elliot nodded and wiped his palms on his jeans. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Lloyd slid out of the truck and shut the door quietly. Keeping one eye on Carl as he took in the first load of groceries, he snuck through the neighbor’s lawn and around their house. Maneuvering through a hole in the chain-link fence he crossed into Carl’s backyard and used the cover of the peeling gray trailer to mask his approach. He listened to footfalls on wooden steps, then pavement, and gauged the distance. A truck door slammed and a moment later, Elliot’s voice rang out, calling a greeting to the drug dealer.

Lloyd burst from his hiding place and ran, aiming at Carl’s back. Electricity crackled as the taser found its mark. The volts sizzled in the air as Carl convulsed, then dropped to the pavement, unconscious. 

Elliot jerked back, his face leaching of color.

“Holy shit! What voltage is that thing?!” 

Lloyd smirked. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a little excitement? Help me get him in the trunk.” 

“You don’t mean…”

“Leaving his car here will arouse suspicion. If we take it, the neighbors will assume he’s out of town.” 

“Maybe we should stop adding to our rap sheets while we’re still ahead,” Elliot suggested.

“I usually agree with the principle of only committing one felony at a time, but we’re on the clock here. Grab his feet, would you?”

Elliot groaned, but obliged, taking Carl’s feet while Lloyd guided his upper body into the trunk. He slammed it shut and grinned at his cousin’s pale face.

“There. Felony number six, complete. Although technically, in this state kidnapping isn’t a felony until you’re a hundred feet away from the property on which the abduction occurred. So, to be precise, we’re still in the act of felony number six.” 

“You’re insane.”

Lloyd smirked. “Not according to my doctor. And given the circumstances, I think this was the most appropriate course of action we could’ve taken. Now, go on ahead of me and make sure everything is set up. I can’t speed with a body in the trunk.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

You sat next to Marco, looking at the murder board.

Zach had set it up in the corner of the conference room and after the interview you’d migrated over here naturally. Your chairs were adjacent, facing the bulletin board like students in a classroom. Marco had ordered coffee and a late brunch for the both of you while you explained the details of the case. 

“And they found the sister’s corpse right next to the first victim?” Marco said. 

“Yeah. It’s mind-boggling.”

He shook his head. “What’s weirder is that these two are sisters, but the rest of the girls on this board are as different as night and day. Different hair colors, ethnic backgrounds, different kinds of jobs.” 

You turned your attention to the victim’s pictures. They were organized by date of disappearance and below them was a horizontal timeline that stretched from left to right across the width of the board. There was a topographical map of the Fairfax area in the lower right corner, with colored pins making locations. 

“There’s a variety in the women, but what’s mostly consistent is the age range, the manner of disappearance, and their social status.”

Marco leaned back, hooking his left ankle over his right knee. 

“How do you investigate a case with so many missing variables?”

“You’re referring to the other six corpses?”

“The lack of them, specifically.” 

His comment tickled a thread you’d been playing with since Singapore. Rather than answering, you stood up and crossed to the bulletin board. First, you untacked the sketch on the far left of the timeline. It was of the unknown victim - Julia’s supposed sister - and then took down the photo underneath her, representing her daughter. Then from the far right of the timeline, you untacked Julia’s photo. 

You sat down next to Marco and faced the board again.

“What about now? Does that make more sense?” 

His mouth tilted in a half smile. “I’m not the investigator here. How would I know?”

“Technically, Lloyd and Zach are the investigators and I’m their errand girl. You’re a fresh set of eyes. I’ve been trying to figure out how removing the sisters and the little girl changes things.” 

“Do you see a pattern here?” Marco said. 

“Maybe. If Lloyd were here, I’d bounce this off of him, but look…” 

You laid the photos you’d removed on the table and returned to the board, pointing to the photo of the first woman to go missing.

“The first victim, Stacey Moore was twenty-six. She worked at an indie publishing house in D.C. and had just graduated from G.W with her master’s. She disappeared in June of 1999.” 

You pointed to the next photo. 

“Maya Sutton. Twenty-four. Tax associate at PriceWaterhouseCoopers, recently hired off an internship program, master’s degree in accounting from William & Mary. Disappeared in August of 1999.” 

Marco listened as you ran down the list of victims, and reported their ages, jobs, and degrees. He was nodding along by the time you reached the last photo.

“The women were close in age. Twenty-three to twenty-seven, born and raised in the U.S. and focused on their careers. They were successful despite being young, and except for Lucy Lund, they all came from upper middle class backgrounds.”

“They’re all born in eastern Virginia, too,” Marco said.

You checked the notes and sure enough, all the victims had been born along the Virginia coast. The pattern was even closer than you’d realized. 

“Good catch.” 

You rehung the photos of Julia, her sister, and the niece, off to the side, separate from the serial killer victims. 

“They found these victims. That doesn’t feel like an accident. If he made six women disappear without a trace, why leave three corpses in the same spot? And Julia’s body wasn’t even properly disposed of.”

“That deviates significantly from the pattern,” Marco said. 

“And with the timeline laid out like this, it looks like Julia’s abduction occurs too early in the year. He’d abducted someone during the last week of May before, but Julia disappeared in April, which is a month before he usually began taking victims. There’s also a stopping period between the 1999 victims and the 2000 cases. In 1999 the last victim disappeared on September 3rd. In 2000 the last victim was August 15th.” 

“Seasonal employees might be a good suspect pool to explore.”

“Removing the discovered bodies gives us a pattern. But when you add these three cases, it muddies the waters. I think we’re looking at two different crimes. A serial killer and… this mess with Julia, whatever it is.” 

Marco crossed his arms, studying the altered layout of the board.

“You’re right. Julia really doesn’t fit his victim type.”

“She was too tall, not from the United States - and not from Virginia. She didn’t have a college degree, let alone a graduate degree, and didn’t work outside the home. The serial killer’s victims were ambitious, professional women. They were all under five foot five and didn’t weigh more than a hundred and sixty pounds, but none of them were exceptionally thin. The abductor seemed to pursue women of average build.”

“Julia was five-nine and weighed about one-thirty,” Marco said. 

“Going off victim type, that made her not only too tall, but too thin.” 

“What’s hard to understand is that he’d suddenly screw up a body dump after getting it right so many times. For his first victim, sure. He’s inexperienced. But doing it again with Julia, several years later… the only way it makes sense is if he put the sisters together.” 

Goosebumps raised on your arms. If he put the sisters together…

What if the sisters’ deaths were connected? Maybe even to the serial killer, but not as victims who he’d hunted. Had they gotten in the way? Or was there something else, completely unrelated to the disappearances, going on at the same time? Was that possible in a town as small as Harmony?

“What are you thinking?” Marco asked.

“I think it’s two different cases. Everyone was waiting for the pattern from ‘99 and 2000 to re-emerge. They were mentally preparing for the next victim and Julia was the next woman to disappear. In a small town riddled with disappearing women, why wouldn’t they think she was part of the spree?”

“That’s logical, but the way you’ve explained it makes better sense. What about the sister and the niece? They’re an even bigger deviation from pattern than Julia. How can they be identified when there’s nothing to go on?” 

“I’ll figure out something,” you said. “Lloyd won’t be back until Tuesday, so I’ve got time.” 

 “Where is he?” Marco asked. 

You noted his demeanor changed when Lloyd’s name came up. His arms crossed, creating a subtle barrier between you, and the paper cup in his hand crumpled in his grip. His attention was riveted on you, belying the casual tone he’d spoken in. 

“He’s out west, taking care of family matters.”

“Huh. So, Lloyd didn’t hatch from an egg?”

“You worked with him before, you’d probably know more than me.”

The comment slipped out, not entirely by accident. Meeting people who’d known Lloyd in the past alway stirred your curiosity. Lloyd’s life had been a series of transformations: a gifted law student turned cold-blooded intelligence officer, then a disgraced ex-spy who’d become a ruthless mercenary and landed himself in prison. You’d only known Lloyd after his metamorphosis into a law-abiding citizen. Discovering the previous version that had existed before was a constant source of entertainment. Gruesome entertainment, perhaps, but you couldn’t check your impulse to fish for information whenever the chance presented itself. 

“Do you enjoy working with Lloyd?” 

Marco’s question took you off guard. 

“Yes. He was a bit of a pill at first, but then I discovered he could be charming when he wanted to be. After that, I made sure he had reasons to be charming.”

“What makes him want to be charming?”

“Rewards. Lloyd responds best to positive reinforcement. It works wonders.” 

“Really?” 

“He’s like a border collie. If you don’t keep him occupied and engaged, he’ll start chasing squirrels and digging up the yard.”

Marco chuckled. You pressed him harder.

“What was working with Lloyd like for you?”

He pursed his lips. “I knew him when he was on Zach’s team. They were doing God-knows-what in the same area where I was deployed. He was obnoxious.” 

His fingers tightened on the paper cup, crushing it nearly in half, unaware of the action. 

“Yeah. But Special Forces attracts a lot of obnoxious people.” 

His lips twitched, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. 

“One day Lloyd showed up with extras. Tag-a-longs from Langley, I think. They assigned my team as their support crew. We were waiting at a checkpoint to help them exfiltrate, which should have been simple, but things went sideways and we had to extract them. Everyone was accounted for - except Lloyd’s extras.” 

You watched Marco’s lips compress. His shoulders bunched and you read anger in the lines of his body and the set of his jaw. He’d crumpled the coffee cup flat. Silence stretched. You waited, knowing he’d eventually fill the silence. 

Marco’s eyes flickered, shifting to internal focus. You could tell he was picking his words carefully. 

“The most dangerous predators wear the most charming masks. Lloyd… Lloyd is a viper in Gucci loafers. He takes pleasure in manipulating people, especially emotionally. Lloyd comes across brash, but underneath it he’s malicious, with a ruthless streak ten miles wide. I’ve seen it in action. Trust me, his blood runs cold.”

You were silent, thinking of Lloyd’s revelations in Qatar. He’d cultivated a certain image in the intelligence community, and clearly, Marco had experienced it. Silence hung over the room as he continued to weigh his words. 

“We were behind enemy lines at that point, but I offered to turn back and try to save the tag-a-longs. Lloyd laughed. Straight up laughed, and told me everything had gone according to plan. The agents had been on a one way trip from the start and he’d risked the whole team’s lives to dispose of them.” 

“What did you do?”

His eyes flashed. 

“I went back for them. One was alive. They’d slit the other’s throat. I reported the incident to command and got transferred to a different continent the next day. Later I found out the guy I’d saved died in the hospital because of a medication error.” 

You nodded, studying his reactions. They were full of anger and distaste. Marco’s story was authentic and his emotions genuine. Defending Lloyd, explaining that he’d changed, wouldn’t help Marco. He’d known a different person than you did. That version of Lloyd had done terrible things without remorse and he was still capable of it, when pushed. 

“Lloyd is charming, but be careful. He’s not trustworthy.” 

“I appreciate the warning, and I’m familiar with his background. He’s changed a lot since prison. There are still rough edges, and the ruthless streak is still there, but the malice isn’t.” 

Marco raised an eyebrow. “That’s an interesting conclusion.”

“If you want to say ‘bullshit,’ just say it. There’s no need to take that tone.” 

“Noted. Why don’t we find something more pleasant to talk about than Lloyd? Say, over coffee? Or better yet, dinner?” 

You wanted to accept, so you could find out more about Lloyd, but the invitation was clearly romantic. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m seeing someone right now. Maybe another time.”

His lips curled into a rueful smile. Before he could speak, there was a loud buzz. Your heads turned toward the front door in unison.

“Where’s the video feed?” Marco asked.

“I think there’s one at the front desk.”

The buzzer sounded again. Who would visit Zach’s office on a Saturday? Anyone who had business being here on the weekend would’ve had a key. With Marco on your heels, you headed for the lobby. Behind the receptionist’s desk, you found a monitor discreetly mounted into the wall, displaying the feed from the hall. A man in a shirt and tie, with a gun holstered on his right hip, stood outside. 

He looked into the camera and you recognized Detective Roth. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Carl Shepherd woke up with a headache. A second later, he realized someone had tied him to a chair with his hands cuffed behind him. There was duct tape securing the cuffs to prevent him from picking them. 

“What the fuck?!”

“Well, well, look who’s awake. Had a good nap, Sleeping Beauty?” 

His head swung, searching the darkness for the owner of the voice. A switch clicked and Carl hissed, whipping his head away from the 10,000 lumen work lamps that burned his eyes. His head throbbed in protest at the dazzling light and the quick movement. 

“Fuck! What are you doing? Are you trying to blind me?!” 

The beams from the industrial lamps were like looking at the sun. He squinted out of the corner of his right eye, trying to see his kidnapper. 

“You can’t do this! I’m untouchable, damn it! I make one call to Sheriff Holbrook and you’re running for the rest of your lives. What kind of psycho are you?!” 

“We’re the Canadians,” the voice said. “We’re here for a stockpile of drugs a former business associate of ours misplaced. Rumor has it you’d know something about it.”

He laughed. “Canadians? You don’t scare me.”

“I don’t need to scare you, but what should scare you is suffocation. Because guess where we are?”

Carl looked around, noticing the corrugated walls of the room.

“A shipping container.” 

“Bingo. We seal the vents and shut the door and you’re dead. It’s not the lack of oxygen that kills you, it’s the carbon dioxide poisoning from your own exhalations. First, you get a headache, then nausea sets in and your heart rate spikes. You pant for breath, but you can’t get any, so you start to feel dizzy. Then vomiting, seizures, and finally you pass out before officially suffocating to death.” 

Carl considered the threat. His kidnapper took this pause as defiance.

“I’ve run the numbers and given the volume of this container, the ratio of oxygen, the probable rate of consumption, and other variables, suffocation should take about 22 hours. Horrible way to go, trust me. I’ve seen it before.”

He could easily imagine the owner of the voice hovering in the shadows, wearing an oxygen mask as he watched his victim suffer. A long silence lingered as he waited for the kidnapper to continue.

“Alright, suffocation it is…” 

Clothing rustled and the lights illuminated the outline of a man as he stood from a chair on the other side of the work lamps.

“Hey! Wait, don’t!”

“You want to talk?” the kidnapper asked.

“I can’t give you the drugs. You’re looking for Joe Hansen’s stash, right? I don’t have them, it was Deputy Russell who took them!”  

- - - - - 

Elliot leaned against the Camaro, staring straight ahead. 

“We’re screwed. We’re totally screwed.”

Lloyd resisted the urge to point out that Elliot was screwed, not him. If push came to shove he’d kill Holbrook and slip out of town. That wasn’t something his cousin was hardened enough to consider. At the moment taking out the Sheriff might not be the worst plan. Elliot could serve as his alibi. After seeing how he’d handled the kidnapping, it was obvious he’d be a terrible accomplice, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t set Lloyd up for an acquittal based on reasonable doubt. 

“Holbrook will never believe his right-hand man crossed him,” Elliot said. 

“Deputy Russell is his second?”

“Yeah. Luke Russell.”

“Huh. I think I had a run in with Deputy Luke the other day. Is he partial to a pump-action rifle?”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “That’s him. How’s you get away?”

“Charm, wit, and of course, I’m too pretty to kill,” Lloyd said, and winked. “Listen, this is just a setback. We can work with this. The plan is the same as before - we get the Sheriff busted. Once he’s locked up, you’re in the clear.”

“How? We don’t have any drugs!” 

“Tell me about Deputy Russell.” 

“He’s careful. Paranoid. Kind of off-kilter, socially. When he tries to cover it up, he comes across as creepy. He’s almost as crazy as the Sheriff.” 

Lloyd considered the odds that Holbrook had found another psychopath to partner with. Someone less polished than him, so he’d never have to worry about competition for his elected position. Birds of a feather flocked together, especially the unstable personalities with criminal tendencies, like Joe and Holbrook. They had remained allies for fifteen years before their falling out. Perhaps history wasn’t exactly repeating itself here, but it seemed to rhyme. 

Joe and the Sheriff had gone from partners to enemies. Now, Holbrook and Russell’s alliance was approaching the same crossroads, and Elliot was caught in the middle. 

“He wouldn’t move the drugs? Or check on them?” 

“No,” Elliot said. “If he had the slightest idea we knew about the stash he’d destroy it. Russell is paranoid, in capital letters.” 

“Well, we can’t have that,” Lloyd mused. “Would he sell them?” 

Elliot frowned and scratched his jaw. “Maybe. He’s in this for the money and a quick sale would cover his tracks.”

“Alright,” Lloyd said. “Here’s the new plan.” 

- - - - - 

Carl watched the two men enter the shipping container. His eyes had adjusted to the brightness, but he still couldn’t see anything but shadows past the work lamps. To his surprise, the kidnapper in charge stepped into the light. Dread curled in Carl’s stomach. If he was seeing his kidnapper’s face, that only meant one thing.

“What? What do you want from me?”

“Call Deputy Russell and tell him you found a buyer for the drugs.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’ll kill me!” 

The mustached kidnapper sneered. He reached behind his back and pulled out a Glock. 

“Listen up, Carl. You have two choices. Get us a meeting with Russell, or say goodbye to your kneecaps.” 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Detective Roth hadn’t spoken for twenty minutes. He sat with his arms crossed in the waiting room, opposite from you and Marco. The clock ticked loudly, counting off the seconds as you waited for Zach. 

Marco shifted beside you, his leather jacket creaking. He’d refused to leave you alone with Roth. The protectiveness amused you, since you had no qualms about being alone with the detective, but Marco had taken an instant dislike to the man. It didn’t help that Roth had refused to explain the nature of his visit. He’d breezed in like he owned the place and immediately demanded you round up Zach, Bishop, and Lloyd. 

Your phone vibrated with a text from Zach.

On my way up. 

A moment later, the door opened, and Bishop entered, followed by Zach. 

You did a double take at the sight of Bishop’s outfit. He wore khaki slacks and a novelty golf shirt that made the patterns in Lloyd’s closet look tame. His black polo was decorated in neon-sign print. Hot pink flamingos, lime green palm leaves, turquoise margarita glasses, magenta watermelon slices, and chartreuse pineapples covered the material.

For a man who wore nothing but white or blue shirts and neutral ties to the office, he apparently swung to the opposite end of the spectrum on the weekend. Next time you needed a gift for Lloyd you’d ask Bishop where he bought his golf shirts. 

Zach pinned the detective with hard eyes.

“What brings you here, uninvited, on a Saturday afternoon, Roth?” 

“Which one of you contacted the press?”

“Excuse me?” Zach said, tilting his head. 

“Who leaked evidence to the media? If you speak up now, the punishment won’t be as bad. I’d recommend doing so quickly, because I’d rather not get angrier than I already am.”

“None of us would do that,” Bishop said. 

Roth grunted. “What about Lloyd Hansen? Why isn’t he here?”

You answered. “His father died. He’s in Idaho taking care of family matters.” 

You tried to speak neutrally, but despite your best efforts, anger sizzled in the words.

“The Rolling Stone ran a cover story on the unidentified victims of Shun Nguyen today. The highlight of the piece was that the recently discovered victim was found by the Xiarong crime scene, where she’d been lying undiscovered for the past twenty years.” 

He paused, letting the statement sink in, then continued.

“A podcaster was waiting for me in the parking lot this morning. Guess what he wanted? He wanted to know how we could miss a second victim only a few hundred feet away from the first. That was a fun question to field at six a.m.” 

Zach’s lips compressed and goosebumps rose on your arms as the shock settled in. 

“Do you have any idea how much harder my job just got?” Roth demanded. 

“Our job,” Zach said. 

The detective snorted. “Given the magnifying glass we’re about to be put under, go ahead. Call it your case, please. It’ll keep a few reporters off my back while they chase you around.” 

Zack and Bishop exchanged a glance. You wondered if you should mention what you’d learned from Mr. Liu this morning. Questioning the DNA test when Roth was already upset didn’t feel too smart, but you didn’t want him to think you were hiding information. One look at his tight-lipped expression decided your course of action. 

“We weren’t the ones who contacted the media,” you said.

“We’ve had limited hands on this case in the department and only a few people knew the details published today. I trust all of those people. By default, that puts you all at the top of my suspect list.” 

Roth looked around, studying each face. 

“The only explanation is that someone in this room compromised the investigation. You betrayed your responsibility, mishandled classified information, and screwed me over. As of right now our cooperation is over. Until you hear differently, stay the hell away from my department.”  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Next - Chapter XV

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

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[sailboatdreamer]

Back to the Night We Met - Ch3

You wake one morning, and enjoy the serenity of the snowfall. You help Angus bond closer with Mary, and a devastating turn to the holiday occurs. Tw: mentions of death/grieving, smoking.

It was three days until Christmas. December 22nd. I’d been up late that morning, with nothing to do i relished in the extra time i got to sleep in.

9:30, my clock said. I groaned to myself. Much too late to have breakfast with the others, though for what it’s worth i got to miss out on Teddy’s usual morning insult parade.

“Whatever you say, church mouse” Is what he’d said when i’d asked him to please stop taking all the toast at breakfast yesterday.

Anyhow, i rolled out of bed in my nightgown, a soft, silk garment that made the scratchy and stiff Barton infirmary beds actually bearable. The others had since disappeared, all except for Ye-Joon, who’d been reading, curled up on his bed across the room.

“Morning…” I wave gently.

“Hello” He said back quite shyly.

“Why aren’t you with the others?” I inquire.

“Oh.. i just felt like some quiet.” I nod understandingly. Ye-Joon, not unlike myself, was quite introverted. I let him know he’s welcome to any pick from my stack of books before i left out into the hall, wandering down to the kitchen, hoping i can scavenge something for breakfast, maybe if i’m lucky there’ll still be some coffee left in the pot.

As i wander into the kitchen, i notice Teddy sitting there, a sour look on his face. I relish in the opportunity to irritate him as i come in.

“something wrong? Why the long face Kountze?”

He sneered at me. “Somebody took my picture.” I can’t help but smirk a little, realising immediately what had happened.

“Oh reaaallly? Wow- who would do that..?” He just grumbled, and didn’t really answer. I tried not to laugh. “I’m sure it’ll turn up.”

I was pleased to find that enough coffee had indeed been left in the pot for me, i took a mug of it, and a warm green sweater outside, hoping to relish in the beautiful view of the soft snowfall.

Outside there was a fair few benches in the courtyard. They provided a view out to the seemingly endless forest, the (now frozen) lake and river, and even the soft, billowing clouds of chimneys from the town over. I saw as my breath turned to cloud in the chilled air, and i decided on the bench underneath a huge stained glass window.

I thought about Mary. As much as we’d all had troubles with our families, there was nobody i had stronger sympathy for than her. I’d found her, a few mornings ago, sitting in the empty auditorium with Curtis’ memorial picture. I had gone in myself to just sit at the back, knowing it was always quiet, i read there sometimes for a change of scenery. When i’d gently pushed open the door (it squeaks if you do it fast) she’d turned to look. We didn’t exchange any words, just a simple, sympathetic look. Curtis would have been 19 this year. He was the year above me and the senior boys, but they’d told me he was so kind to the younger kids. The boys told me he’d applied to service so when he finished he’d be able to go to college because they didn’t have the finances to, it was just him and Mary after all. That day i just sat in the pew with her, some distance apart. I didn’t dare try and talk about it with her, but the least i could give her was my solidarity.

The one time Jason & I were alone in the kitchen, we were talking about it, and he’d recounted a memory he’d had with Curtis, touring the new first-year students on Introduction Day. He told me that Curtis had spent extra time with a first year student who didn’t know any of the other new kids, encouraging them to involve eachother in a group. He spoke so highly of Curtis’ compassion, and kindness. The same kindness i recognised in Mary. It broke my heart for her.

We all like to believe people get what they deserve. But the truth is, they simply don’t. It always seemed to me that good, honest people suffer too much, and those completely undeserving of good things, don’t suffer enough for what they do to others.

I was recalling this somber feeling, looking out over the fresh snow, when i’d heard the door to the courtyard open. I turn hopefully, and to my relief, it was Angus. He, i could see, had already been up for a few hours, and, parallelling my memory of Mary, came to sit by me on the bench without a word. At this point i’d finished my coffee, and placed my mug on the side-table, now just enjoying the serenity.

After a while - “It’s beautiful isn’t it? the snow?” I smiled even hearing his voice. He spoke softly, almost as if not to ruin the peace of the moment.

“It’s lovely. It almost looks like a soft blanket, though that illusion only lasts as long as before you touch it.” He nods with a smile.

“What’re you thinking about out here?” It’s a thoughtful question.

“Mary… and Curtis. Though i never got to meet him, i can see how much it’s hurting her. He seemed like a real golden boy.” He nodded knowingly.

“He was.”

A beat passes in conversation.

“I wish I could help more. But death is one of those things i guess. Nothing anybody can do, but everybody wishes they could.”

As he says so, he lights a cigarette. i look at it thoughtfully, the black smoke providing a stark contrast against the blinding snow.

“I know. It’s just sad. And it’ll be sad forever, but i think- in time you get further away from the hurt, you know? Life must go on.” We start to share the cigarette, exhaling out into the open air.

“Say, Mary does like to smoke though. Maybe we could cheer her up?” I broach the idea carefully, knowing that Mary had a distaste for the boys, not without reason, of course. But still, I wondered if taking Angus with me was the best idea.

“When Hunham fell asleep last night- i” He laughs lightly

“What did you do?”

“He- he’d drank a lot of that brandy, and i might’ve grabbed the ring of keys from his bedside when i knew he definitely was out. I mayyyyyy have done a bit of a tour of the place, and i know for a fact that Principal Endicott has a drawer filled with Marlboros. And lemon sherbets- but that’s less important.” He seems emboldened by sharing this secret with me.

“You- WOW… i can’t believe you did that!” I couldn’t help but giggle.

“I had to, i was indebted to since you brought me back my picture.”

I smile. “Did you take any out?” He smirks and nods back at me, i’m very clearly impressed.

“We should bring Mary some - last time i saw her she told me she’s rationing hers because she won’t be able to get out to town till past Christmas.” He hands me a fully wrapped packet from the pocket of his windbreaker, i turn it over in my hands with a chuckle. “Good find.”

—

When we arrived at Mary’s quarters, i led, and knocked on the door twice. We exchanged a sort of nervous look before it opened.

“Oh! What are you two doing here?” She asks, her Boston accent thick.

“It was actually Angus’ idea, he uh- came across some of these, you mentioned you’d been down on them and you wouldn’t be able to get any more before Christmas?” I pass her the pack. SHe beams at us, though does seem surprised at Angus’ involvement.

“You got these for me?” She points to Angus, he has a bit of a timid look now, far from his usual gruff and annoyed disposition.

“I did.” Mary smiles appreciatively, turning back to me.

“Well, thank you both very much. You know, not many of those boys out there even think twice about me, it means a lot to me that you have.” Her tone is warm and sweet, she reminded me of many women i’d known from home, and it filled me with so much pride to see we’ve made her happy. I admired the way her face dimpled when she smiled, even in such a hard time, she was filled with so much grace. She explained though, that she couldn’t stay and was soon needed in the kitchen to prepare whatever was in the walk-in for this evening. We let her go and start walking back to the infirmary together, sharing another cigarette. Angus was the first to talk.

“D’you think i’m back in her good graces?” He passes it to me, i inhale.

“Absolutely. Well ‘n truly.” I say affirmatively. “Though, i was quite impressed with you, i mean, you were really just sneaking about like that? All night? I mean- how did you kill the time?”

“Well, i figured if i can’t go home, i might as well make the most of my time here. I regretted not waking you up to join me, but i figured you needed the sleep. I started in the library-”

An unfamiliar, and deafening sound interrupted us, it sounded like mad whooshing and whirling, like standing too close to an airplane propeller. As we rounded the corner of the building we saw it. Jason’s dad. And his helicopter we’d been hearing about non-stop.

Angus made quick work of the cigarette, throwing it behind a pot plant quickly as to not get in trouble. The other boys were crowded on the grass around the helicopter already, and we urgently ran up to see what was going on, and with awe Jason told us; “My dad said as long as you guys can get permission from your parents, you’re welcome to come with us out to the Alps! Who can ski?”

I had never even seen a pair of skis in real life, let alone use them. I knew Angus had been itching to get out of Barton, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity, almost too good and too perfect. I did wonder about Mary though, would she feel abandoned if we all got up and left? I couldn’t do that to her.

After all the boys were taking turns phoning their parents, it was Angus’ turn and then mine.

After the third ring i knew we weren’t getting anywhere. The realisation that he’d have to stay at Barton after all absolutely crushed what was left of the joy in his face, and i felt my heart break for him. He couldn’t even get a hold of his own mother, too preoccupied in her own honeymoon to call her only son.

I saw his face start to redden, the embarrassment and shame clear on his expression.

“Hey, hey look…” I try to give him a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

“I’ll stay. I don’t need to go skiing, i don’t even know how…”

My heart swelled at his reaction, his lip trembled as he turned to me

“are you sure? I can’t- i can’t ask you to do that.” I shake my head.

“you don’t have to. I’ll stay. the snow is prettier here anyway.” I try to smile but it comes across as weak. It was his turn to shake his head. I can see in his face all he wanted was the phone to suddenly ring back, so he wouldn’t feel indebted to me, and we’d all be able to go skiing together, but it was too good to be true after all. He pulls me into a tight hug and manages a soft and whispered “Thank you.”

[bearcreekcabins]

Best Family Cabin Rentals in Northern Idaho: A Comprehensive Guide 

Northern Idaho, known for its stunning landscapes and outdoor adventures, is the perfect destination for a family getaway. Whether you’re planning a summer retreat or a winter escape, finding the right cabin rental can make all the difference. This comprehensive guide will help you discover the best family cabin rentals in Northern Idaho, ensuring a memorable and comfortable stay for everyone. 

Discover the Ideal Family Cabin Rentals in Northern Idaho 

1. Bear Creek Cabins: A Home Away from Home 

Nestled in the picturesque mountains of Northern Idaho, Bear Creek Cabins offers a unique blend of rustic charm and modern amenities. It’s an ideal choice for families looking to reconnect with nature without sacrificing comfort. Each cabin is thoughtfully designed to provide a cozy atmosphere, complete with all the necessities for a relaxing stay. 

Main Cabin: Perfect for larger families, the Main Cabin features a spacious living area, a fully equipped kitchen, and comfortable sleeping arrangements. The large windows offer stunning views of the valley, making it a great spot for family gatherings and activities. 

Family Cabin: Situated at 

the end of the row of cabins, the Family Cabin provides privacy and a peaceful setting for a relaxing family vacation. With a queen bed, a fold-out futon, and a walk-in closet, this cabin comfortably accommodates a family of four. The cozy interior and beautiful surroundings make it an ideal retreat for families. 

Bunk Cabin: For larger groups or families with multiple children, the Bunk Cabin is an excellent choice. It includes two bunk beds, each with a queen and twin bed, allowing it to sleep up to six guests comfortably. This cabin is perfect for kids to share with their cousins or friends, providing a fun and memorable experience. 

2. Modern Amenities in a Rustic Setting 

At Bear Creek Cabins, you’ll find a perfect blend of rustic charm and modern conveniences. Each cabin is equipped with a fully stocked kitchen, including a refrigerator, microwave, coffee maker, and all necessary cooking utensils. You can prepare delicious meals for your family without having to leave the comfort of your cabin. 

Additionally, all cabins offer high-speed internet access, allowing you to stay connected even while enjoying the tranquility of nature. Whether you need to check emails or share your vacation photos with friends and family, you’ll have reliable internet access throughout your stay. 

3. Activities for All Ages 

Northern Idaho is a haven for outdoor enthusiasts, and Bear Creek Cabins is perfectly situated to take advantage of the region’s natural beauty and recreational opportunities. From hiking and fishing to UTV riding and boating, there’s something for everyone to enjoy. 

Hiking: The nearby trails offer a variety of hiking options, ranging from easy walks to challenging hikes. Explore the scenic beauty of Northern Idaho as you hike through lush forests, along crystal-clear streams, and up to breathtaking viewpoints. 

Fishing: The region is dotted with numerous lakes and rivers, providing ample opportunities for fishing. Whether you’re an experienced angler or a beginner, you’ll find plenty of spots to cast your line and catch a variety of fish. 

UTV Riding: For those seeking adventure, UTV riding is a popular activity in the area. The trails around Bear Creek Cabins are perfect for exploring on an all-terrain vehicle, offering a thrilling way to experience the natural beauty of Northern Idaho. 

4. Personalized Service 

Owners Ardi and Miriam Villiard are dedicated to providing personalized and attentive service to ensure a memorable stay for all guests. From the moment you arrive, you’ll feel welcomed and taken care of. The Villiards are always available to offer recommendations, assist with any needs, and ensure that your family vacation is a success. 

5. Planning Your Stay 

Planning a family vacation at Bear Creek Cabins is easy and stress-free. Start by choosing the cabin that best fits your family’s needs. Whether you need multiple cabins for a large gathering or a single cabin for a more intimate getaway, Bear Creek Cabins can accommodate your group. 

Once you’ve selected your accommodations, consider the activities your family will enjoy. With so many options available, you can create an itinerary that includes hiking, fishing, UTV riding, and more. Be sure to also set aside time for simply relaxing and enjoying the beautiful surroundings. 

6. Making Memories 

Family vacations are all about making memories, and Bear Creek Cabins provides the perfect setting for creating lasting moments with your loved ones. From gathering around the fireplace to enjoying a meal together on the deck, every moment spent at Bear Creek Cabins is an opportunity to connect and create cherished memories. 

Conclusion 

Choosing the perfect family cabin rental involves considering location, amenities, size, family-friendly features, reviews, activities, budget, pet-friendliness, and unique experiences. Bear Creek Cabins in Northern Idaho stands out as an excellent choice, offering everything you need for a memorable family vacation. Book your stay at Bear Creek Cabins today and discover why it’s the ultimate home away from home. 

[starfish-sonnyangel]

AURORA CYCLE CAMP AU i couldn't stop thinking abt this there's so much potential here

BASICALLY there are 4 cabins, each with a pair of counselors. 

Auri/Scar (girls cabin)

Fin/Kal (boys cabin)

Ty/Nari (boys cabin, poor Nari)

Zila/Saedii (girls cabin)

Auri

she used to go to the camp when she was younger so she’s like a senior here

friends with everyone

leads the nature hikes

even tho she’s been going to the camp for 10+ years is incapable of making a friendship bracelet more complicated than a fishtail (she’s tried)

head chef!

one night she got really sick and couldn’t cook so fin took over, the result closely resembled a bowl of vomit. everyone ate smores for dinner that night.

her and scar are actually a great pair, they balance each other out and probably get along better than any of the other counselor pairs do

Scar

avoides her duties at all costs

just makes friendship bracelets and gossips about the other cabins

gives the campers relationship advice but they’re all like, eleven

“girl taking your pen!!! the sparkly one too?? i’m getting major red flags, that's such an ick. you need to dump him next recess.”

everyones fav counselor 1000%

surprisingly good at pep talks

always the one that gets called in when there’s camper conflicts

blasts britney spears in the mess hall (speaker is consequently confiscated by tyler)

Kal

came for the service hours, stayed for the found family

surprisingly very responsible and into nature

always the one who gathers the wood for the campfire each night

helps in the kitchen most nights (he maintains that it’s to spend as little time with finn as as possible orrr is it because auri is head chef cough cough)

no one knows anything about him. like anything. where he’s from? what his last name is? how old he is? if he has family? zilch.

has to enforce 98% of the rules bc fin couldn't care less abt disciplining the campers

very passionate about algae??? no one has any idea where that came from

could and would fight off a bear

takes the spiders that get into the cabin back outside in a little cup (while fin is curled up on his bunk screaming)

scar drags him into making friendhsip bracelets with him

has a black nalgene with like 5 half finished bracelets hanging off it that he takes everywhere with him

definitely doesn't make auri bracelets idk why you would think that

Fin

imagine how chaotic he was in the series, times 100

pushes everyone in on lake days and then whines when the campers push him in

“fin, what’s this type of plant called?”    “girl . . . a leaf prolly idk”

tries to sneak his nintendo switch onto the camp (it gets confiscated by a very disappointed tyler)

goes over to the girls cabins a bittt too often to flirt with scar (and annoy auri)

called the top bunk as SOON as he got in that cabin

allergic to everything under the sun so the forest scare the shit out of him (the other counselors have yet to figure out why exactly he signed up for a camp . . in the forest)

CANNOT swim and is terrifiyed of the lake on the campgrounds

again no one knows how tf he got hired

scar's theory is the camp had him signed up as a camper and the system fudged the lists up

Zila

so quiet she blends into the forest on accident

once fin was walking down a trail with rations, zila was just off the trail trying to get a goldenrod sample and started talking to him all of a sudden, not realizing she was completely obscured by a tree to his POV. cue the ration packs flying everywhere and fin running back up the trail screaming

once sat on a log for three. hours. motionless, just watching a stream

goes on very mysterious “nature walks” where no one hears a single thing for her for hours and hours

can identify ever bird call

knows every plant, it’s scientific name, if it’s invasive or native, etc etc

100% wakes nari up to see the stars during a meteor shower (in a very platonic way ofc ofc)

has a first aid kit on her at all times

Tyler

Ty 🤝 Nari

           ^

 running that cabin like a boot camp

no bc you will never be able to convince me that their dynamic wouldn’t have been peak

if everyone didn’t have a crush on him, he’d be the counselor everyone complained abt

scar still complains abt him tho (as her sisterly duties require)

actually a boy scout so this is his natural habitat

lovesss ordering people around its like his favorite thing

really demanding but he is also never seen not working on smth so you can’t really get mad at him for it

always starts campfire nights off with some Sun Tzu quote or a #motivational speech

has a trophy shelf in his bunk but its just all the things he's confiscated (the speaker and switch being some of said objects)

Saedii

do what she says. thats it.

is actually pretty chill if you follow the rules, do your chores, don’t get into fights etc.

with that being said, once you screw up, it’s over

shes like a crow she just remembers bro

can remember every camper shes ever had, what the looked like, acted like, every time they messed up etc.

just don’t mess with her

is prepared for every possible situation

bear attack? dw, she’s got a gun. tsunami? she’s trained. wildfire? she’s a volunteer firefighter back home.

doesn't outright say she and kal are related but doesn't not confirm it either

bonded with tyler over their extensive shared knowledge of the camp's allowed procedures in the case of an intruder on the campgrounds

[hotcat37]

It’s been awhile,BUT THE MOODBOARD EMPORIUM’S DELIVERY SERVICE IS BACK IN BUSINESS BBY!! >:DD

*🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁*

(Probably best if U listen 2 the song while ur reading cuz this song N sports were literally *MADE* 4 them X33) Cottagecore! Jance Board cuz U just *know* that when their both older N JO is just a extremely fond memory that they’d live in a lil cottage somewhere in the woods on the outskirts of Vrhnika N go on lake trips N pick berries N make pies together then dance in the kitchen N take in stray cats that would come across the cottage sometimes N maybe some baby cows that live close 2 the forest N make tiny flower crowns 4 them!! Lazy days spent snuggling close 2 eachother in hammocks,limbs tangled N the synchronised rhythm of their hearts N soft snores being the only sound coming from the woods.Winter evenings where’d they look out the window only 2 see delicate little white snowflakes tumble down ever so gracefully from the sky as the frosty air makes the glass fog up,Jan practically moulded 2 his husbands side N resting his head on Nace’s shoulder watching the way his mouth quirks up into the softest smile known 2 man when he plants a flurry of kisses on the younger’s forehead.Going 4 long walks in the fields during the summer N finally crashing onto the lush green grass,giggling N intertwining their hands as if this was all just some wonderful dream that they never ever want 2 awake from,Nace takes his darling dear’s hands N places a kiss on every knuckle not missing how the other blushes at the gesture or how Jan switches their places suddenly so he can straddle Nace’s hips N cup his Face in his hands so so gently,kissing him till he was just as much of a blushing wobbly smiling mess like Jan was only a few minutes ago,vowing that even if everything comes crashing down on them by tomorrow that the two would never regret a single thing they did that got them 2 this very moment..

COTTAGECORE JANCE REAL🗣🗣 Need them to live a peaceful little life in the woods or the countryside.... The flower crowns are so cute I can just imagine them wearing those constantly <33 Also the song is sooo sweet, Beach Bunny has such a cute voice!! The whole atmosphere of this moodboard is so cozy and nice I love it 💕💝💞 Thank you!! ^_^♡

[nageltrailerrepair]

Family Adventures Made Easy: Top Lightweight Travel Trailers in Michigan for Small Families

When it comes to exploring the great state of Michigan, there's no shortage of breathtaking landscapes and exciting destinations to discover. For small families seeking memorable adventures, hitting the open road in a lightweight travel trailer can be an ideal choice. These compact and efficient trailers not only provide a comfortable home away from home but also make traveling around Michigan a breeze.

In this guide, we'll introduce you to some of the top lightweight travel trailers in Michigan that are perfect for small families. Plus, we'll delve into the essential topic of travel trailer maintenance in Michigan to ensure your family's adventures go off without a hitch.

Lightweight Travel Trailers: A Perfect Fit for Small Families

Lightweight travel trailers offer an excellent balance between comfort and convenience, making them an ideal choice for small families looking to explore Michigan. Here are some reasons why these trailers are a great fit:

1. Easy Towing

With a weight under 2500 lbs, these trailers can be towed by a variety of vehicles, including SUVs and small trucks. You won't need a massive truck to haul your family's getaway home.

2. Cozy Living Spaces

Despite their compact size, lightweight travel trailers are designed to maximize space. You'll find everything you need, from a comfortable sleeping area to a functional kitchen and bathroom.

3. Cost-Effective Travel

Traveling in a lightweight trailer can be budget-friendly. They are more fuel-efficient than larger RVs, and campsite fees for smaller trailers are often lower.

Now, let's explore some top lightweight travel trailers that are perfect for small families in Michigan:

1. Forest River R-Pod

The Forest River R-Pod is a popular choice among small families. With its lightweight design and various floorplans, it offers versatility and comfort. You can easily customize the interior to suit your family's needs.

2. Casita Spirit Deluxe

The Casita Spirit Deluxe is a compact trailer that doesn't compromise on comfort. It's well-equipped with amenities and has a cozy interior, making it perfect for family getaways in Michigan.

Travel Trailer Maintenance in Michigan

Now that you've chosen the perfect lightweight travel trailer for your family's Michigan adventures, it's crucial to keep it in tip-top shape. Regular maintenance ensures your trailer is safe and reliable for the road.

1. Check the Tires

Before each trip, inspect the trailer's tires for signs of wear and tear. Ensure they are properly inflated and have adequate tread depth to prevent blowouts on Michigan's diverse road surfaces.

2. Inspect the Brakes

Brakes are a critical safety component. Have them inspected and serviced regularly to ensure they function correctly, especially if you're planning trips with varying terrain.

3. Routine Cleaning

Michigan's climate can be varied, and your trailer may encounter rain, snow, or dirt. Regularly clean the exterior to prevent rust or damage, and keep the interior tidy for a comfortable living space.

4. Fluid Checks

Regularly check fluid levels, including oil, coolant, and brake fluid. Maintaining proper levels helps prevent breakdowns and ensures your trailer operates smoothly.

5. Electrical and Plumbing

Test all electrical systems and plumbing to ensure they are in good working order. Faulty wiring or plumbing can lead to inconveniences during your family adventures.

6. Safety Inspections

Consider having a professional conduct a thorough safety inspection annually. This ensures that all components, from propane systems to towing equipment, meet safety standards.

By following these maintenance tips and choosing the right lightweight travel trailer for your small family's adventures in Michigan, you'll be well-prepared for memorable and worry-free journeys. With your home on wheels, you can explore Michigan's natural beauty, from the Great Lakes to the scenic Upper Peninsula, all while creating lasting family memories.

Happy travels!

[houseofremodeling9]

Transform Your Culinary Space: Premier Kitchen Renovation Services in Laguna Hills

A kitchen renovation is one of the most impactful home improvement projects you can undertake. For homeowners in Laguna Hills, a kitchen renovation can transform the heart of your home into a modern, functional, and beautiful space. House Of Remodeling Inc., located in Laguna Hills, specializes in high-quality kitchen renovations, offering 5 years of free financing with no down payment, no interest, and no finance charges. This guide will help you understand the benefits of kitchen renovation and how to approach your project to maximize its value and appeal.

[nvrcmplt]

The sound of a knife cutting through vegetables was a softness that joined the forest pathway, the surrounding woodlands a glow with fireflies and the moon above just about peeking over clouds and lake front. It was a new spot, somewhere his Dad suggested he set up for today through text and for once, Hiro listened instead of remaining in the human cities out of convenience.

He didn't have to go to classes or anywhere forced upon him so the venture out into the wilderness with his work was a good new stretch for his legs. The night was a while away when he set out, but now he was fully set up… preparing for his patrons that he no doubt would be seeing soon.

His gaze didn't move much from his hands as he snapped his knives through what he needed. Making sure everything was set up in their wooden boxes to savour flavour and freshness. A boiling bowl of water - soon turned into a simmering broth for oden in the chilly hours to come. He gave a polite sniff as he sliced daikon, yam and peeled boiled eggs from their bowl to place into the broth with wooden spoons. The smell only amplified as he moved the lid off and let it flow into the area.

He couldn't help but give a soft smirk, it was a great batch of this broth. Took him years to master it from under his Mom's hands but now he's got it to a T. That and his ramen broth - that felt like a mere blink to make now. Slicing bite sized vegetables up once again to place into the brother to soak it up, he wiped down his surfaces once he got everything on the go.

Debating if he'll add tofu skewers as he pulled apart a table for four outside his little area. Stools added, a couple of chairs, more tables… It was an eatery in the wilderness, a place to enjoy a good meal. Paper lanterns were the last to be sparked up, a fly repellent smoke mix in its middle burned above the candle he sparked and with that. He was ready for his first customers for today…

His tail wavered into existence with a thick explosion of fur - thankfully no fly away hairs, and his ears rounded off, extending from where his human guise stood. Stretching his tail out and popping his neck - he gave the moon one more glance before sighing out. "Ganbare, me… "

His hand rose his to grasp onto the noren, twirling the material open and hooking it into place with a wind chime deafening the surroundings in its gentleness. The fabric fluttered in a breeze made by the smell of his food and a path made by ghost-flames ignited to show a way for him from the main road. Hiro tugged out a bandana to cover his hair and tied it into place with a soft huff behind his head. "Open for business." Muttered to himself as he stepped back into his stalls' kitchen place and plucked out several bowls and platters to fill with Edamame lightly salted to place on his wooden service front.

"Irasshaimase. What can I get you?"

[golfspain]

The Perks of Playing at La Manga Club for an Unforgettable Golf Holiday

If you're searching for the perfect golf holiday in Spain, La Manga Club stands out as one of the most prestigious and well-known destinations for golfers. Located in the sun-drenched region of Murcia, La Manga Club offers a unique experience that combines world-class golf courses, luxury accommodations, top-notch facilities, and breathtaking scenery.

Let’s explore the perks of playing at La Manga Club and why it’s an ideal spot for a golf holiday.

1. World-Class Golf Courses

At the heart of any golf holiday is the quality of the golf courses, and La Manga Club does not disappoint. It offers three championship courses: the North, South, and West courses, each providing a distinct golfing experience. Whether you're a seasoned player or someone who enjoys a more relaxed round, the diversity of these courses makes La Manga Club an attractive destination.

The South Course, perhaps the most famous of the three, is a true championship course that has hosted numerous professional tournaments, including the Spanish Open. Known for its wide fairways and large greens, the South Course is a challenge for experienced golfers while remaining accessible to casual players.

The North Course offers a slightly different experience. It's shorter and hillier than the South, making it more strategic and rewarding for golfers who prefer a test of precision over power. The layout weaves through palm trees and lakes, providing a scenic and tranquil atmosphere that’s perfect for a leisurely round.

Finally, the West Course is known for its narrow fairways and elevation changes, offering a challenging and rewarding experience for those who appreciate technical golf. The beautiful pine forest setting adds to the unique character of this course, making it a must-play during your stay.

Why These Courses Stand Out:

Three championship courses with varied challenges

Stunning scenery with diverse natural settings

Top-notch course maintenance ensuring the best playing conditions year-round

2. Exceptional Practice Facilities

One of the key perks of La Manga Club is its exceptional practice facilities. The Golf Training Centre is one of the finest in Europe, designed to help golfers of all levels improve their game. With an expansive driving range, short-game area, and putting greens, you’ll have everything needed to perfect your swing before heading out onto the course.

The Leadbetter Golf Academy at La Manga Club is a world-renowned golf school that offers individual and group lessons tailored to all skill levels. Whether you’re a beginner looking to learn the basics or an experienced player hoping to fine-tune specific aspects of your game, the academy’s instructors are there to help.

If you’re serious about improving your game during your holiday, La Manga Club provides the ideal setting to focus on your skills while still enjoying a relaxing vacation atmosphere.

What Makes These Facilities Special:

A comprehensive Golf Training Centre with state-of-the-art equipment

The Leadbetter Golf Academy offers expert instruction

Opportunities for golfers of all levels to enhance their game during the holiday

3. Luxurious Accommodations

La Manga Club offers an impressive range of accommodation options, ensuring comfort and luxury throughout your stay. Whether you're looking for five-star hotel service or the privacy of a villa, La Manga Club has it covered.

The Hotel Principe Felipe is the epitome of luxury. This five-star hotel is located right next to the golf courses, providing the convenience of stepping out of your room and directly onto the course. The rooms are spacious and elegantly designed, with many offering stunning views of the fairways.

For those traveling with family or a larger group, Las Lomas Village offers spacious apartments and townhouses that give you the flexibility to enjoy a more independent stay. Equipped with kitchens and living spaces, this option is perfect if you prefer to combine the luxury of La Manga Club with the comforts of home.

Why Accommodations at La Manga Club Stand Out:

A range of luxury options from hotel rooms to private villas

Proximity to the golf courses for added convenience

Access to resort amenities such as pools, restaurants, and wellness centers

4. A Paradise for Sports and Leisure

While La Manga Club is most famous for its golf, it’s also a paradise for sports and leisure activities. When you’re not on the golf course, there’s plenty to keep you entertained.

The resort is home to one of the best tennis centers in Spain, offering courts for all levels of play. If tennis isn’t your thing, there’s also the La Manga Club Football Centre, which regularly hosts professional teams for training camps. And if you're looking for relaxation after a day on the course, the resort's luxury spa provides a wide range of treatments to help you unwind.

For those who want to explore the natural beauty surrounding La Manga Club, the nearby Calblanque Natural Park offers scenic hiking trails, pristine beaches, and the chance to enjoy the stunning Mediterranean coastline.

Additional Activities at La Manga Club:

Tennis, football, and other sports facilities

A luxurious spa offering treatments and wellness programs

Opportunities for hiking, cycling, and exploring the local environment

5. Gourmet Dining Experiences

La Manga Club is more than just a golf destination; it’s also a haven for food lovers. The resort offers a variety of dining options, each serving delicious cuisine made from fresh, local ingredients. Whether you’re in the mood for a fine dining experience or a casual meal after a round of golf, La Manga Club’s restaurants cater to every taste.

One standout is Amapola Restaurant, which serves Mediterranean cuisine with a modern twist. Located in the Hotel Principe Felipe, this fine dining venue is perfect for a romantic evening or a special meal with friends.

For something more relaxed, the La Bodega offers traditional Spanish tapas in a cozy setting, giving you the chance to enjoy local flavors and wine. And for those craving international cuisine, La Manga Club also has a range of other options, including Italian, Asian, and American-inspired menus.

Why Dining at La Manga Club Is Special:

A variety of dining options catering to all tastes and preferences

Fine dining experiences with Mediterranean and international cuisine

Fresh, local ingredients and an emphasis on quality

6. Easy Accessibility and Ideal Location

Another perk of La Manga Club is its convenient location. Situated in the region of Murcia, it’s easily accessible from major airports, including Murcia-Corvera and Alicante-Elche, both of which are a short drive away.

The resort’s proximity to the Mediterranean coast adds to its appeal, allowing visitors to combine golf with a relaxing beach holiday. You can spend the morning on the golf course and the afternoon lounging by the sea or exploring the charming towns and villages that dot the coastline.

Whether you're traveling for a short weekend golf break or a longer vacation, La Manga Club’s location makes it an easy and attractive option for golfers seeking a quick escape.

Location Highlights:

Easy access from major airports in Murcia and Alicante

Proximity to Mediterranean beaches

The option to explore local towns, beaches, and cultural sites

7. Golf Events and Tournaments

La Manga Club isn’t just a place to play golf; it’s also a venue for numerous tournaments and events throughout the year. These include amateur tournaments, corporate events, and even professional competitions. For golf enthusiasts, participating in or spectating at one of these events adds an extra layer of excitement to the holiday.

The resort’s reputation as a top golfing destination in Spain means that it frequently attracts players from around the world, offering a great opportunity to meet fellow golfers and share the experience.

What to Expect from Events at La Manga Club:

Regularly hosted amateur and professional tournaments

Opportunities to compete or watch top-level golf

A lively atmosphere with fellow golf enthusiasts from around the world

Conclusion

La Manga Club is much more than just a place to play golf—it’s a world-class destination that offers everything needed for an unforgettable golf holiday. From its championship courses to luxurious accommodations, gourmet dining, and a wide range of leisure activities, La Manga Club provides the perfect setting for relaxation and excitement.

Whether it’s a weekend escape or an extended stay, the perks of playing at La Manga Club are unparalleled, making it an ideal choice for golfers looking to combine luxury, sport, and leisure in one breathtaking location.

Ready to experience the best that La Manga Club has to offer? Visit Golf Spain to explore exclusive golf holiday packages and start planning your next getaway today!

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Beyond the Cabin Unique Big Bear Stays for a One-of-a-Kind Getaway

Beyond the Cabin unique big bear stays for a One-of-a-Kind Getaway invites you to explore an extraordinary side of Big Bear Lake. Far from the typical cabin experience, these distinctive accommodations offer innovative designs, quirky amenities, and unparalleled charm. Imagine staying in a luxurious treehouse, a modern yurt, or a whimsical tiny house, each providing a unique backdrop for your mountain escape. Perfect for those seeking something beyond the ordinary, these one-of-a-kind stays ensure a memorable adventure with a touch of creativity and luxury. Discover a new way to experience Big Bear Lake and make your getaway truly exceptional.

Hidden Gems in  Discover Unique Big Bear Stays Beyond Traditional Cabins

Unique big bear stays is renowned for its scenic beauty and cosy cabin retreats, but the region offers much more for those seeking an extraordinary experience. Beyond the traditional cabin, explore eclectic accommodations that promise an unforgettable stay. From luxurious treehouses nestled high above the forest floor to charming vintage Airstreams that blend nostalgia with modern comforts, these unique stays offer a distinctive charm. Whether it’s a converted school bus or a sleek, minimalist pod, each option provides a one-of-a-kind adventure that goes beyond the ordinary, making your Big Bear getaway truly exceptional.

Elevate Your Unique Big Bear Stays Experience Treehouses and Elevated Retreats

Immerse yourself in the treetops with unique big bear stays  exclusive treehouse rentals. These elevated retreats offer a magical escape, combining the serenity of nature with the comfort of modern amenities. Picture yourself sipping coffee on a private balcony, surrounded by panoramic views of the forest. These unique accommodations provide an elevated perspective of Big Bear, allowing you to experience the region’s natural beauty from a new vantage point. Each treehouse is thoughtfully designed to blend seamlessly with the environment, offering an enchanting stay that is both luxurious and close to nature.

Stay in Style Retro and Chic Accommodations in Unique Big Bear Stays

For those with a taste for vintage charm and modern flair, Big Bear offers a variety of retro-inspired accommodations that stand out from the usual cabin experience. Think mid-century modern lodges with sleek lines and bold colours, or cosy cottages with retro furnishings that transport you back in time. These unique stays combine nostalgia with contemporary comforts, creating a stylish and memorable getaway. Whether you’re drawn to the glamour of a 1950s-inspired retreat or the quirky charm of a vintage RV, these accommodations offer a distinctive and fashionable alternative to traditional cabins,unique big bear stays.

Off-the-Grid Adventures Unique Eco-Friendly Stays in Unique Big Bear Stays

For the environmentally conscious traveller, Big Bear presents a range of eco-friendly accommodations that combine sustainability with unique design. From solar-powered yurts to off-grid tiny homes, these stays offer a green alternative to conventional lodging. Each eco-friendly retreat is designed with the environment in mind, utilising sustainable materials and energy-efficient technologies to minimise your carbon footprint. Enjoy the tranquillity of nature without compromising on comfort or style, and embrace a more responsible way to experience Big Bear’s stunning landscapes,unique big bear stays.

Luxury in the Wilderness High-End Retreats Beyond the Cabin Unique Big Bear Stays

If luxury is your priority, Big Bear has a selection of high-end retreats that go beyond the standard cabin experience. Indulge in opulent lodges with private hot tubs, gourmet kitchens, and stunning mountain views. These upscale accommodations offer all the amenities of a five-star resort while maintaining a cosy, rustic charm. Enjoy personalised services, such as private chefs or in-home spa treatments, and immerse yourself in the ultimate comfort and relaxation. These luxury stays provide a perfect blend of sophistication and nature, ensuring a lavish and memorable Big Bear getaway,unique big bear stays.

Adventure Awaits Unique Themed Stays in Unique Big Bear Stays

For a truly memorable experience, consider Big Bear’s themed accommodations that offer more than just a place to sleep. Immerse yourself in a fantastical world with stays inspired by different eras or genres, such as a mediaeval castle-themed retreat or a whimsical fairy tale cottage. These themed stays are designed to transport you to another world, with decor and amenities that match the theme. Whether you’re a history buff, fantasy fan, or simply looking for a fun and immersive experience, these unique accommodations provide an exciting and imaginative twist to your Big Bear adventure,unique big bear stays.

The Ultimate Unique Getaway Combining Multiple Experiences in Unique Big Bear Stays

Why settle for just one type of unique stay when you can experience them all? Big Bear offers the opportunity to combine multiple extraordinary accommodations into one unforgettable getaway. Start with a night in a luxurious treehouse, followed by a stay in a retro-inspired lodge, and finish with an off-grid eco-friendly retreat. This approach allows you to explore various aspects of Big Bear’s diverse lodging options and fully immerse yourself in the region’s unique charm. Customise your adventure to include the best of both worlds, ensuring a multifaceted and exciting Big Bear experience,unique big bear stays.

Conclusion

Big Bear offers an array of unique stays that go beyond the traditional cabin experience, making it the perfect destination for a one-of-a-kind getaway. From luxurious treehouses with panoramic mountain views to cosy A-frame cabins tucked in serene woodlands, these accommodations provide more than just a place to rest—they offer memorable experiences in nature. Whether you're seeking adventure, relaxation, or a blend of both, Big Bear's distinctive lodgings ensure your stay is as extraordinary as the surrounding landscape. Make your next vacation truly unforgettable by exploring the charm and individuality of these remarkable escapes,unique big bear stays.

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Secluded Cabin Rentals in Big Bear Perfect for a Peaceful Retreat

Nestled amidst the serene landscapes of Southern California, Big Bear is a haven for nature lovers and adventure seekers alike. With its majestic mountains, lush forests, and pristine lake, Big Bear offers an ideal escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. Cabin rentals in Big Bear provide the perfect blend of comfort, luxury, and rustic charm, making them a popular choice for vacationers looking to unwind and reconnect with nature.Whether you're planning a romantic getaway, a family vacation, or a solo retreat, there's a cabin in Big Bear to suit your needs. From cozy one-bedroom cabins to spacious lodges that can accommodate large groups, these rentals offer a range of amenities to enhance your stay. Enjoy stunning views, private hot tubs, fully equipped kitchens, and easy access to outdoor activities like hiking, skiing, and fishing.

Why Choose Cabin Rentals in Big Bear for Your Next Vacation?

When planning your next getaway, choosing cabin rentals in Big Bear offers an unparalleled experience of relaxation and adventure. Big Bear's scenic beauty, combined with the comfort and privacy of cabin accommodations, makes it a top destination for all types of travelers. Whether you seek tranquility in nature or thrilling outdoor activities, Big Bear has it all. Cabin rentals provide the perfect base to explore the area's attractions, from the sparkling Big Bear Lake to the snow-capped peaks of the San Bernardino Mountains. With various options available, you're sure to find a cabin that meets your needs and enhances your vacation experience.

Top Features to Look for in Cabin Rentals in Big Bear

When selecting cabin rentals in Big Bear, consider the features that will make your stay memorable. Many cabins come equipped with modern amenities such as hot tubs, fireplaces, and fully stocked kitchens. Some even offer game rooms and home theaters for added entertainment. Location is also key; whether you prefer a lakeside view, a mountain backdrop, or a secluded forest setting, there’s a cabin in Big Bear to match your preference. Additionally, look for cabins with easy access to hiking trails, ski resorts, and other local attractions, ensuring that you can enjoy the best of what Big Bear has to offer.

Family-Friendly Cabin Rentals in Big Bear

If you're planning a family vacation, cabin rentals in Big Bear are an excellent choice. These cabins are designed with families in mind, offering spacious layouts, multiple bedrooms, and kid-friendly amenities. Many family-friendly cabins are located near popular attractions such as the Big Bear Alpine Zoo, the Discovery Center, and Snow Summit, providing endless opportunities for fun and adventure. With fully equipped kitchens, you can prepare meals for your family, and outdoor spaces like decks and yards give children room to play while you relax and enjoy the peaceful surroundings.

Luxury Cabin Rentals in Big Bear The Ultimate Comfort

For those seeking a touch of luxury during their stay, consider booking one of the many luxury cabin rentals in Big Bear. These cabins are designed to offer the highest level of comfort, featuring high-end furnishings, gourmet kitchens, and often, breathtaking views of the surrounding landscape. Many luxury cabins also include extras like private hot tubs, saunas, and access to exclusive amenities such as private docks or concierge services. Whether you’re celebrating a special occasion or simply want to indulge, luxury cabin rentals in Big Bear provide an extraordinary experience that will leave you feeling pampered and rejuvenated.

Affordable Cabin Rentals in Big Bear Budget-Friendly Options

You don't have to break the bank to enjoy a stay in Big Bear. There are plenty of affordable cabin rentals in Big Bear that offer comfort and convenience without the high price tag. These budget-friendly options still provide all the essentials, such as cozy interiors, kitchen facilities, and proximity to Big Bear’s many attractions. By choosing an affordable cabin, you can allocate more of your budget to exploring the area, whether it’s renting a boat for a day on the lake, skiing in the winter, or dining at one of the local restaurants. Affordable cabin rentals in Big Bear make it possible to enjoy a memorable vacation without overspending.

Pet-Friendly Cabin Rentals in Big Bear Travel with Your Furry Friends

Traveling with pets can sometimes be a challenge, but with pet-friendly cabin rentals in Big Bear, you can bring your furry friends along for the adventure. These cabins are specifically designed to accommodate pets, offering features like fenced yards, pet beds, and nearby walking trails. Big Bear is a pet-friendly destination, with many outdoor spaces, parks, and even some restaurants welcoming pets. By choosing a pet-friendly cabin, you can enjoy the company of your four-legged companion while exploring the natural beauty of Big Bear together.

Romantic Cabin Rentals in Big Bear for Couples

Big Bear is a popular destination for couples looking for a romantic escape, and there’s no better way to enhance the experience than by staying in a romantic cabin rental. These cabins often feature cozy fireplaces, hot tubs, and stunning views, creating the perfect atmosphere for a getaway with your loved one. Many romantic cabins are secluded, offering privacy and tranquility, yet still close enough to enjoy activities like wine tasting, scenic drives, or a day at the spa. Whether you’re celebrating an anniversary, honeymoon, or just need a break from the daily grind, romantic cabin rentals in Big Bear provide an intimate and memorable experience.

Conclusion

Cabin rentals in Big Bear offer a unique and customizable experience, allowing you to enjoy the beauty and activities of the area in comfort and style. Whether you’re looking for luxury, budget-friendly options, or a pet-friendly escape, there’s a cabin in Big Bear that’s perfect for you.