#one of her skills could be using her hard light to basically bowling ball her into enemies

[lesbian-cowpoke]

An arkham/Spiderman style Dazzler game would go incredibly hard I believe

Her movement mechanics would be peak. You could have her be more long range with laser shots of you could get up close and dazzle enemies. I think managing the sound she absorbs could be a really interesting mechanic. I've got no idea what the story would be I'm just thinking purely mechanically playing a game as Dazzler would be so cool

[oh-saints]

bowling

what were the odds of the one and only sir lewis hamilton sparing you some time for a mini lesson on mercedes' annual bowling session in japan?

lewis hamilton x merc-crew!OC

word count: 2.3k

tw: nothing

note: blurbs because that particular gif above still sent me UGHHH istg pls sir i just wanna finish GR's part 2 and the mason story i have in mind :(

“who hasn’t had any turns?”

susie wolff was still beaming as she scanned the bowling alley the team had reserved beforehand for the mercedes-amg petronas f1 team’s annual bowling session. the matron—god bless the woman—was visibly trying hard to involve everyone and making sure everyone’s involved, not leaving everyone behind. at the end of the day, the bowling session was an initiative to bring the mobile crew members closer as well as an outlet to let out their stress after going through halfway around the world for a full season of racing.

“you!” susie wolff pointed at the girl at the far back, just as the girl intended to until susie discovered her wishing the earth to swallow her whole so she didn’t have to participate the sport. “how dare you try to slip away from my sight! aletta, you’re next!”

“no, no, no, no, no,” aletta shook her head ferociously she could feel her head going dizzy from the violent shake. “please, no. not me.”

“why not?” george—god, the mischief george—discreetly challenged her to give the rest of the crew a good reason as to why she had to be excluded. she knew because, even without many explicit words being said, george liked to rouse an emotion from her. for god knows what. “are you scared to lose?”

“no!” at george’s raised brow, aletta pursed her lips to give herself a moment to think how to answer george. as much as she enjoyed their bickering, aletta didn’t want to fuel any fire george might be lighting up soon. “it’s not that.”

everyone was expectant of her, of her answer, because everyone had bowled their turns.

except for sir lewis hamilton.

which made everyone realise they were short of one person playing, when the team had registered an even number of people to play today.

fuck it. lewis was brilliant at this—the entire bowling session was sparked by his motive to introduce the crew to one of his favorite sports—and there was no way she could cover her disastrous skills and experience. she didn’t see any choice but to heed to george’s next question.

“then what is it?”

“i can’t bowl for life, okay, george?” aletta let out a heavy huff from her nose. “happy now?”

“then at least try,” susie came down to aletta’s seat before clutching aletta’s hands in hers. “please? for me?”

who was she to deny THE susie wolff, anyway? if she did, she might upset susie, which would upset toto. and upset toto wasn’t the easiest hulk to put down to sleep. god help us all when his emotions were spiked.

“okay,” aletta gave in, pursing her lips hesitantly. “but please teach me how.”

“oh, lewis can teach you!” susie jumped up from the seat beside her and dashed for lewis’ attention. “lewis, will you please give aletta the basics of bowling?”

lewis’ signature light-weighted voice resonated well like it was music to aletta’s ears. “you’ve never played?”

aletta stepped forward timidly, every step she took signalled she was succumbing to the embarrassment of being defeated by susie wolff and her eyes blinking rapidly—a sign she was utterly nervous; not just because she was to humiliate herself in front of hundreds of people, but she was about to step up to sir lewis hamilton. as the new junior social media officer, she was usually attached to george russell instead of handing the meticulous and particular job for the senior driver.

“no…?” aletta instinctively reached for a ball—my days, that is flipping heavy!—to the nerves threatening to spill all over the floor. gross, that would’ve been a whole new level of humiliation. “is that so hard to believe?”

aletta wished lewis wouldn’t catch on how she was struggling to hold the ball but the light vibrations under her feet told her the otherwise.

“nope, wrong ball,” lewis grabbed the shiny object from her hands and put it back where it belonged. “where do you hangout with your friends then?”

“you don’t want the answer to that.”

lewis, for unbeknownst reason to aletta, laughed at her submission before turning around to give her another bowling ball. “try me. but is that still too heavy for you?”

aletta’s eyes widened as she weighed down the ball. she didn’t know there were different types of this thing. “this one’s perfect, thank you.”

lewis nodded in acknowledgement. “you’re holding it wrong but answer me first then we’ll start the basic.”

the younger woman was surprised that the sir lewis hamilton was willing to hear how she lamely spent her time. “we read books together and have a discussion about it.”

“okay, look at how i hold the bowling ball. make sure it’s these three fingers that you put inside those three holes because you’ll hurt your fingers if you don’t,” lewis went ahead to demonstrate it for her before he put it down and corrected the digits she placed in those little, ugly black holes. “ah, yes, i heard your book community.”

“you did?!”

thank god lewis was still holding the hand she placed on the bottom side of the ball, stabilising her as his words sent every fibre of her being out of this world. god knows what’d happen if she dropped the heavy object right to his feet—oh the thought she could’ve jeopardized his next race header raised hairs all over her body.

aletta, in fact, built a strong online community centred to feel woman empowered from books they read. every week she would determine which book to be read to be discussed on the next community discussion. the fantastic engagement on the social media she created for the community was one of the reasons why mercedes hired her in the first place.

but she had no idea—none, nada—that there was a famous figure watching over her account, especially as famous as lewis hamilton. not even george, whom she had been working together from the beginning of this season, knew about the existence of her digital persona.

the shock even alternated her mind from the fact that lewis hamilton was holding her hands. in other circumstances, aletta would’ve gagged at this whole “the prince and the pauper” scene.

“yes, i think it’s impressive how you can unite people through books,” lewis pushed her towards the alley when he was done showing her how to hold the ball. aletta guessed lewis would’ve shaken his head at how ridiculous she was—how could one not know bowling? “you can even make them feel empowered from the characters a fiction book creates. what you do is amazing, is that so hard to believe?”

“it’s more of i can’t believe you’ve heard of the community,” aletta took a shaky breath as lewis corrected her posture this time, to stand a bit straighter. “no one here knows about them except my manager and the hiring team.”

“you really should tell me how you go incognito like that when in reality you have almost half a million followers,” lewis laughed under his breath, probably at his own irony. “now, you’re ready to bowl?”

“never.”

and there was the carefree laugh—the one people always said it sounded like a grandpa wheezing—but to her it was rainbow coming to life. at that moment, aletta got reminded of her sister’s answer to her question of “when do you know you like him?”. the other woman smiled dreamily as she answered, “when you just want to make him laugh all the time.”

“here, watch me.”

it turned out lewis hamilton truly graced the pedestal to teach her how to bowl properly. heck, lewis hamilton went galactic and beyond to lift her from the brink of embarrassing herself further. he went step by step to make sure she got the right posture to get a strike.

susie was the one to call it off the mini tutoring session between lewis and aletta as soon as the matron realised aletta now possessed enough of skills to bowl her first ball without rolling it to the gutter. lewis pushed the small part of her back gently before aletta took her bowling stance—three steps from the line, just as lewis instructed—for the first time ever in her short span of life. but as soon as she let go of the ball, aletta didn’t have the heart to see how many pins she managed to knock out. she didn’t want to get her hopes high after being taught by lewis, only to find george laughing at her result.

but simultaneous cheers she got instead. then the machine voice boomed. strike!

aletta had never turned around so fast in her entire life that it made her head spinning in dizziness. she saw that the machine didn’t lie and that she had, indeed, violently put down the entire set of aligned pins. she could feel her jaw slacking before she realised what she was doing.

on the background, lewis was definitely laughing at her reaction but clapping nonetheless. “you sure this is your first time? you’ve got it in you!”

aletta shook her head. “no way i did that.”

“yes way, missy,” lewis stepped up with his own bowling ball before rolling the shiny object on his own lane. “this is going to be a fun game with you. now it’s your turn again.”

lewis recognise aletta was about to dash for her life so he got a hold of her wrist to stop her from going anywhere. aletta groaned at how fast lewis moved to retaliate her initiation. “can somebody take my place instead?”

“why?”

“because i suck at it, i can feel it!”

“you just hit a strike, who does that on her first ever attempt to bowl?”

“it’s called beginner’s luck, lewis,” aletta rolled her eyes, half with the intention to forget the feeling of lewis’ hands lost from her skin. “we all have that.”

“alright, ms. partypooper,” lewis rolled the sleeves of his black customised sweater and may god forgive aletta for ogling at the sight. “tell you what. if you roll the dice once more and you fail to hit another strike, you can have me do whatever content you’re planning for the next race week.”

her senior social media officer—the one who was responsible for lewis’ appearances on all of mercedes-amg petronas f1 team’s social media—and their direct social media manager jumped elatedly at lewis’ offer in exchange of the challenge. they immediate shouted you can do this! to aletta, even though they were metres away from where aletta and lewis stood. aletta couldn’t even hide the fact that she was tempted at the prize waiting for her at the end of the line because everyone knows lewis didn’t do any more social media stuffs to gain engagement, interactions, or anything that could possibly land him another sponsorship.

(oh to be legends, aletta sighed.)

“you’re being serious?”

lewis raised his eyebrows, giving her what the fuck look. “do i look like i’m joking?”

“nooooooot really… but what’s in it for you?”

lewis only answered her question by handing her another ball fitted for her size as he said, “one way to find out, no?”

aletta could simply lose by not performing well and got the content we all had been waiting for. the thing was, lewis taught her too well for a first-timer that aletta didn’t know how to downgrade the skill she had gained from the world class athlete. she couldn’t even pretend she didn’t know how to bowl anymore, her acting prowess would put pornstars on any podium.

hence, another strike.

this time, aletta didn’t have any time to turn around and avoid digesting reality. everything happened to fast as she focused on not slipping after she threw the ball on the alley that when she stood up, the pins had all already been on the floor, colliding against each other. she gasped at the incredible sight, remained rooted to the ground while the machine swept away the pins clear because fucking hell. aletta didn’t have any athletic bone and now she striked twice?

“told you you’re a natural,”

hairs stood up once more at lewis’ voice came up behind her, gentle as usual but a hint of something more laced behind it. like she should be scared of it. like she should be scared of lewis, for the first time in forever. like she should be scared of what would happen with their dynamics. but may god forgive her for her disinterest to succumb to the fear and wanting to find out what’s in the bag for them. like she just wanted to scream fuck you! to the world and listen to the devil for once.

the pause was killing her because she knew—god did she know—lewis still stood behind her. his breath tickled the back of her ear the only way he knew how, the only way her body alighted at the subtle touch. she wished he’d get this done and over it because my days, aletta couldn’t stand the pregnant tension between them. she was so afraid if she breathed, it’d scatter the bubble and ruin the life of her and she had to walk down the walk of shame.

but maybe aletta should’ve listened to what her mother says. pray in detail; how would God know what you want? aletta had to remind herself to exhale the breath that was caught in her throat, now panting as a result, because bloody hell did she not expect the seam of lewis’ lips grazed down the shell of her ear so featherily she would think she was dreaming if it wasn’t for the next string of words.

“seems like i get to take you for a dinner sometimes. after all, you still owe me the tricks to go incognito.”

[wiypt-writes]

Riding High

Ch 5: Ad Nauseam

Chapter Summary: It’s Mary’s first day at school, and it doesn’t go according to plan… Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So from here on in we dive into the GIFTED main story line so this contains SPOILERS for the film. If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, so for that reason I’ll be spreading the storyline over a number of Months, because I find that realistic and it also fits with how I want the story to go so…just roll with it!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 4

September 2017

“Hey! Come on.” Frank sighed, knocking on the door that led into his bedroom where Mary was getting changed “Come on let’s move”.

“No” came the sullen reply

“Let me see.” he said a little more gently.

“No.”

“Come on, I made you a special breakfast.” Frank tried.

“You can't cook.” Mary replied, a snort in her voice. With a deep sigh Frank decided enough was enough.

“Hey, Mary, open up.” his voice was sterner and a few seconds later the door opened and Mary looked up at him. She was dressed in her new red summer dress with a white collar and blue and white flowers patterned all over it. She wore a filthy scowl on her face which Frank was trying really hard not to laugh at.

“You look beautiful.” he told her.

“I look like Disney character.” She seethed as she stormed past him. Frank watched her pass as the door to the room shut, gave a sigh and then followed her to the kitchen. She sat at the table, pulling the bowl of cereal to her as Frank set about making her lunch.

“Where's the special?” Mary suddenly said.

“What?” Frank asked, reaching up for a piece of kitchen roll to wipe a knife clean.

“You said you made me special breakfast.”

Frank leaned over and with his left hand turned the box of Special K round so Mary could see it. She rolled her eyes and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Frank ignored her until she spoke again, her voice pleading.

“Please, don't make me go. You can keep home schooling me.”

“I've taught you everything I know” Frank replied, smearing peanut butter onto the bread in front of him.

“But I don't want to go.”

“Well... I don't want to go to work, but I do.” Frank shrugged as he fixed the sandwich together and reached for a zip-press bag to place it in.

“You don't go to work. You fix boats on the dock.”

“Okay, it's poor example.” he said, pulling the top of the bag open. “But you are still going.”

“But what about Fred?” Mary asked as Frank shimmied the sandwich into the bag and sealed it

“What about him?” Frank sighed

“You won't take care of him. You don't like cats.”

Well, she had him there. He really didn’t like cats. But Frank was ok. Frank wasn’t really a cat, he was more of a dog…

“I don't like two-eyed cats” Frank shrugged in reply “Fred is as you know, monocular.”

“Who's gonna throw him his ping pong ball?” Mary tried again.

“Fred's gonna be fine, no more argument, okay?” Frank sighed, looking at her as he pulled another sandwich bag from the box for his own. “We've discussed this ad nauseam.”

“What's an nauseam?” Mary frowned.

“You don't know?” Frank turned to look at her, leaning against the kitchen unit. “Looks like someone needs school.” Mary looked at him, an utterly filthy scowl on her face and he stared back. She sighed and turned back to her breakfast, hand propping her face up as her elbow rest on the table. Frank stood watching her whilst he threw some bread in the toaster. He felt bad, he really did but this was for the best. She needed to be normal. He felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket and, wiping his hands on his dirty work jeans, he pulled it out, smiling as he read the text from Fliss.

“Good luck with the whole School thing this morning. If she kicks off tell her no riding lesson on Saturday. Give me a call or swing by if you need me xx”

“I don’t need good luck I need a miracle, and a drink. Is 8am on a Monday too early for a beer?” he replied.

“Well, it’s afternoon somewhere in the world Sailor ;-) “

Gave a chuckle as he put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Mary who was watching him, a knowing look on her face.

“What?”

“I know that was Fliss.” she said.

“How?”

“Because you’re smiling, the way you always do when she messages you.” “Well we’re friends…we like talking to one another. Something you might understand after you make some at school.” She scowled at him again and he ignored her, shoving the last bit of his breakfast into his mouth before he looked at the clock.

“Finish up, it’s nearly time to go.”

With a grumble Mary ate another mouthful before she slid off her chair. Frank packed her lunch into her rucksack before he handed it to her. With another scowl she place her arms through the straps and then together they walked out of their home.

“Just remember that today, those kids in your class, they’ve probably haven’t learnt even half as much as you.” Frank said, looking at her as they walked down the path. “So try not to show off ok?” “I can’t even use what I do know?” “No I’m not saying that, just, don’t make it so obvious ok? It will make people ask questions about why you know so many things and...” “AM I not supposed to know them?”

“Honestly, no, you’re seven.” Frank shrugged. “But you’re smart, you know this.”

She remained quiet for a second before she sighed “Ok, I promise I won’t show off.”

They reach the end of the path and then walked across the grassy area between two of the other prefabs just in time for the bus to pull to a stop.

Frank watched Mary as she stood looking at it as the doors swung open.

“This is gonna be fun.” He said, watching the back of her head “You're gonna meet kids today that you’re gonna borrow money from for the rest of your life.”

She didn’t reply

“Come on.” he urged gently, gesturing her forward with his right arm, his tone somewhat softer. He watched her climb up the staps, his hands falling to his hips as he tried to think of something encouraging to say. “You’re gonna be great.”

She paused and looked back at him, her expression soft.

“You know, just...” He gave her a thumbs up, “I don't know. Try bein' a kid.”

Mary looked down as the school bus doors shut and Frank sighed. He watched her take a seat as the bus pulled off and then turned to head back to the house. He was running through his day in his head, he had a boat he needed to have a look at but didn’t think it was a major fix, few parts that type of thing. He could swing by Sandybrook later on, maybe, see if Fliss was free for an hour for lunch…

There was a rapping on a window and he stopped dead at the end of the path looking up. His eyes locking with Roberta’s as she gazed at him from out of her window. With a sigh of frustration he turned to his left and continued back towards his home another way.

“Frank! Frank, I know you hear me.” He let out an inward groan as he rolled his eyes, ignoring her completely. He walked in the door to his kitchen, shut it and then snapped the lock across to make a point. The point being ‘piss off and leave me alone’. He knew that making the point was, however, pointless because she’d just fucking unlock the door and walk in anyway. Like she always did. He grabbed the toast that had popped up whilst he had been out and threw it on a plate.

“Frank!” There was a juggle of the door handle and he turned to look at Roberta as she pulled out a set of keys.

Ignoring her completely he grabbed a mug and poured some coffee into it.

“There's still time for you to undo this nonsense. Go get in your car and go get that child.”

“Are you technically allowed to use these keys whenever you want?” He said to her, a little sarcastically as he passed her the mug. She took it from him

“How you can stand there...acting all calm and all of that making light out of this?” she asked as he took a bit of his toast “Now, go get her back before it's too late.”

“She gotta go out in the world.” Frank said as he began to tidy up the kitchen, placing the breakfast and lunch making items away “She has no friend her age, no social skills. She doesn’t know how to be a kid.”

Roberta merely watched him as he sighed and turned to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. “Two nights ago she told me that even if Germany bails out the Euro, there could still be worldwide depression.” He shook his head “I was staring at the celling for three hours.” he finished softly

Roberta wrinkled her nose a little and looked down at the floor as she shook her head softly. “I'm so worried.” she said gently, her voice cracking and it was then that Frank noticed her eyes were filling with tears. He knew she cared for Mary, she cared for him too even if she showed that less. And he got it, he did, he got exactly what she was worried about because hell, he felt the same. If people spotted Mary’s potential and then started digging it was going to cause a whole heap of ramifications. But he had to balance out the need to keep her ‘talents’ hidden and for her to have a normal life. He saw so many parallels between Mary and Diane, and frankly it scared the shit out of him. His mother had been overbearing, insisted that they were both home schooled, but when their Father had died Frank had rebelled. He’d gone out, fallen in with a  BMX riding, trouble making crowd (well, as much trouble as eight year olds could make…toilet papering houses, throwing stones at cars, that type of thing) basically stuck the middle finger up at his mother who had in the end conceded and he’d gone to school. But Diane…well, she’d been smothered and grown up so isolated with no social skills.

No, he wasn’t, he couldn’t let that happen to Mary.

He let out a sigh “Come on, Roberta. If you start crying, I will have to pretend to start crying.”

He watched as she nodded sadly.

“Hey.”

She looked up at him as he spoke.

“You know there's something you could be overlookin’.” he smiled “This could work out.”

“Maybe.” she agreed, with a slight nod and a smile “But if anybody takes that baby away...I'll smother you in yo sleep.” she warned him, her southern accent becoming stronger as she issued the threat “Morning, Fred.” she said to the cat who was led on the table. His tail swished as she rather viciously grabbed at her keys before she left the house.

With his fucking mug.

The sun was already warm and it wasn’t even 9 when Frank reached the dock, the rays bouncing off the crystal blue surface of the water. As he walked he applied a slight smearing of sunscreen to his neck, he knew that bore the brunt of the sun when he was outside and not in the lock up. Fliss had commented it on it the other day, and he had admitted  to her that when he’d gotten out of the shower the other day he noticed he was definitely sporting some amusing tan lines, both round the collar of his T-shirts and where the arms finished. It was always the same thought. Fliss had laughed, rolled up her sleeves to show him the same and pointed out it was why she spent as much time as she could on her days off by the pool trying to even it out.

Lying by the pool on a day off… Frank mused to himself, now there was a thought.

Whilst his mind was on Fliss, he pulled his phone out and dialed her number.

“Hey Frankie boy.” she greeted him “Did you manage to get her on the bus without a gun or…” Frank chuckled “It was surprisingly less trouble than I thought but…”

“You’re doing the right thing.” she assured him, and he had to smile at the fact she knew what he was pondering.

“Roberta doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Yeah, well, she’s worried but that doesn’t make her right.” Fliss said “Look, Mary is a kid. She needs to just, oh I dunno, live like a kid. You’ve done the right thing for both of you, Frank.”

“Thanks Fliss.” he smiled to himself “Think I just needed to hear that.” “Any time, look I gotta go, my 9 am is here.” “Ok, well, I thought if the invite was open I could swing by at lunch. I’ll grab us a sandwich on the way?”

“Sounds great.” Fliss said, “Just message me later.” “Sure, have a good morning Cowgirl.” She laughed “You too Sailor.”

He tucked the phone back in his pocketed and continued to head down the gangway, nodding to a few people before he hopped onto the white speed-boat he was working on, pulling the dust cover off the stripped down engine.

**** Two hours. It was a whole two hours before he got a phone call telling him to head into the school. He strode back to the house, quickly washed his hands and threw on a blue and red plaid button down over his grubby white t-shirt before he headed to go get the pain-in-the-ass.

After a number of apologies, Frank walked out of the Principal’s office with a groan. Mary skipped ahead of him, examining something in a cabinet but he placed his hand on her head and turned it in the direction she needed to walk. He pushed open the double doors, letting her go in front of him.

One hand between her shoulder he steered her away from the entrance to the school and was fishing in his pocket for his keys when he heard a voice behind him.

“Excuse me?”

He turned to see a slim, quite pretty brunette in a green and white dress hurrying towards him.

“Hi.” she said, raising her hand in greeting.

“Look it's my teacher.” Mary rolled her eyes as Frank slowed down.  “Probably wants to remind me what one plus one is.”

“Go to the car, okay?” he said, gently guiding her away with his hand.

“Hi” he repeated

“Hi.” Frank replied, removing his glasses and taking her extended hand in greeting.

“Sorry to yell at you and then chase you down.” she apologised.

“It's okay. Mary's teacher?” he asked, releasing her hand.

“Yes. I'm Bonnie Stevenson”

“Frank. How are you?” he said, and then before giving her chance to apologise he sighed “Sorry about today. She got little overexcited.” he gestured to the car as Mary climbed in “It's just first day jitters.”

“Sure, yeah.” Bonnie nodded, turning to look at Mary

“We are running a little bit late actually, so we gotta get going.” Frank said, late for what he had no idea, he hadn’t made that bit up yet.

“Okay, I don't even wanna talk about that.” Bonnie shook her head “I will keep you just a minute”

“Okay.”

“I think your daughter...I think Mary might be gifted.”

Shit.

“What?” Frank feigned surprise, quite well too so it seemed.

“Yeah, today in math, she answered some really, really complicated equations and…”

“Oh, no, no, no…” Frank held his hand out to stop her as she was gesticulating fastly with her own as she continued to speak. “No, that's...it's not gifted.”

“difficult questions that a seven year old would...”

“It's Trachtenberg.” Frank cut her off easily, he could deflect this.

“I’m sorry…” Bonnie laughed, folding her arms, looking at him, puzzled.

“Jakow Trachtenberg.” Frank nodded. “Spent seven years in a concentration camp. Developed a system to rapidly solve problems.” he gestured with the hand holding his keys “It's the Trachtenberg method.”

“But she’s…I mean...she's seven though.” Bonnie said, smiling slightly, her tone still surprised.

“I learned it when I was eight.” he said, smiling “Do I look gifted to you?”

Bonnie looked him up and down and dropped her head, smiling.

“It kinda went out of note since the invention of the calculator.” Frank continued, backing away from her as he spoke, “But I can still win a drink at the bar using it.” he smiled, opening his sunglasses out. “Sorry for today. Won't happen again.”

“Okay.” Bonnie nodded as Frank slid on his shades.

“Nice to meet you…Bonnie.” he said, remembering her name.

“Frank.” Bonnie nodded again.

He drove them home in silence. His only words being an instruction for her to go change into something suitable for an afternoon at the docks before he stepped into the kitchen and remembered his lunch arrangements. With a curse he pulled his phone out and gave Fliss a quick call.

**** Fliss’ morning had been fairly busy as well. She’d given two private lessons, worked one of her horses, mucked half the block out as it was a Monday, which meant that Ellis had the day off so she mucked in, and was now going through the bookings for the week. She’d been inundated this week with requests that she couldn’t accommodate, but was contemplating putting another lesson on to satisfy the demand. Bill had told her not to be stupid, she was already teaching 6 days a week and needed to let her staff shoulder some of the responsibility before she burnt out.

“Joanne?” she called. Joanna walked in and looked at Fliss.

“How do you fancy over for me completely on a Sunday?” she asked.

“Me?” Joanne frowned.

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded “You open up, close and can run a couple of Classes. You have your teaching qualifications. I can supervise the first two weeks or so and if you’re happy after that then you can take the day completely, take 20% of the earnings as an extra. What do you say?”

“Fliss, I’d, well, I don’t know what to say!” Joanne grinned “Yeah, yeah I’d love to!”

“Good.” Fliss smiled “There’s a list of clients here, you can call back after lunch and offer them a time slot to suit you on Sunday, have a think about a lesson plan for groups and then…” “Thanks Fliss. “ Joanne smiled “This means a lot.” “You’ve earned it.” Fliss smiled “You’ve been a perfect head groom these last 6 months. Keep going and…well, we’ll see where we end up!”

Joanne beamed and nodded, heading back out onto the yard.

Fliss took a deep breath. She had spent so much of her life not in control of her career or home life, doing as she was told by John, when she was told to do it or suffer the consequences of a beating, that she had gone the complete opposite way when she had taken grasp of her own life. Her business was run by her with military precision. Bill did the books for her, but other than that she arranged everything. She was a control freak, she knew that so stepping away 1 day a week might seem like a little step to other people but to her it was a huge one. Bill had reminded her the other night that the idea had been that eventually Fliss would have a manager running the place for her which meant she could turn up to provided lessons and ride when needed. She was a long way off that yet though, but this one day off was a little progress.

Her phone started ringing and she reached over to pick it up, smiling when she saw the number.

“Two calls before noon!” Fliss grinned “I’m honoured”

“Unfortunately I’m calling to cancel lunch.” Frank sighed.

Fliss was surprised she felt disappointed. “Oh, it’s no issue.” She said, pulling a face. “Is everything alright.

“No.” he replied bluntly.

“Mary?”

“How did you guess?” he gave a low chuckle.

“She’s normally your source of your trouble. What has she done?”

“Apparently she stood up in class, and shouted at the principal to, and I quote ‘get on your phone and call Frank and tell him to get me out of here.’ I mean…”

Fliss bit back a laugh. It shouldn’t be funny, but she could picture Mary’s angry face and her arms folded across her chest. Despite her best attempts an amused snort escaped her.

“It’s not funny.” Frank deadpanned

“I know, I’m sorry but…“ Fliss cleared he throat, forcing herself to become serious.

“You now I wasn’t a perfect kid but I’m pretty sure I never got thrown out before lunchtime on my first day.” Frank sighed.

“She’s not been thrown out…just told to go home early” Fliss countered

“Well I brushed it off as first day excitement but the teacher was digging into how smart she is and…”

“Look, try not to worry.” Fliss soothed, sensing the tone of panic in his voice “Just try talking to Mary You always get the best out of her when you explain things to her.”

“Yeah, look, I better go…I need to get back to the boat yard.”

“No problem. Take care, and, just…well, listen to her Frank.”

“Yeah, bye Fliss.”

Fliss placed her phone down on her desk, and bit her lip. The morning had started off reasonably well too. She knew Frank well enough now to know that his frustration with Mary was born out of simply wanting the absolute best for her, and he was completely focused on making that happen even if Mary was not happy about it.

Fliss tapped her nails absentmindedly on the desk, trying to think of ways she could help. But other than talk to Mary, as she had encouraged Frank to do, she was stumped.

Nope, Fliss didn’t envy Frank one bit.

*****

“For the record, I didn't wanna go to the stupid school in the first place.”  Mary rambled on as she perched on a cool box, blue sun hat perched on her face as Frank finally finished his work on the engine, screwing the cover back on “And the boy in the front row acts inappropriately for someone who's a child.”

“Sorry. I'm still passively aggressively ignoring you.” he said without looking up.

“Other kids answer questions, they don't get in trouble.” Mary continued to protest.

“You didn't get in trouble for answering the questions.” Frank looked at her, still turning the screw driver, his voice taking on a tone of exasperation. “You yelled at the principal.”

Mary looked at him, shrugging.

“All right, you know what? You're gonna find this interesting.” he said, stepping back slightly, tossing the screwdriver onto one of the seats as he made his way to the cockpit of the boat “So I googled" first graders who yelled at the principal". And statistically you will never believe how many kids do it.”

He started working his way through the checks as Mary answered

“How many?”

“None.” he shot back over his shoulder as he fired up the boat, revving it slightly. He heard Mary’s footsteps as she ran down the side of the boat and stopped.

“Frank, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.” she said leaning over the edge to look at him.

“Yeah, right.” he said, shaking his head before he turned to look at her “You can't show off like that in school.”

“I know.”

“You promised you wouldn't then the first day...”

“I know, I screwed up.”

Frank looked at her, he could see she was genuinely contrite. Her head was dropped slightly. He watched her for a moment before he nodded and looked back out of the water before she spoke again.

“Do you think this boat needs a test ride?”

He looked back at her as she grinned up at him, the gap where her two top teeth had fallen out serving as a reminder as to just how young she damned well was. Like he could ever forget that, mind. Frank looked down and shoved his glasses back as they slipped down his nose and with a sigh he gave in, the way he normally did when she pulled those puppy dog eyes on him.

“Go get, Fred.”

She smiled and jumped up.

“Don't run!” he called after her, watching as she slowed to a walk for a few strides, before running anyway. He shook his head, smiling to himself at her blatant disregard for his order.

She appeared a little while later and Frank got her settled in the seat of the boat with a life vest and a blanket covering her legs, it could get a little nippy on the water for Mary, not that it bothered him.

“Ready?” he asked

She gave him a thumbs up and he pulled the boat out of the spot and headed slowly out of the harbour. Once on the open water he sped up, relishing the feel of the wind in his hair. He felt at peace on the water, something about it soothed his soul. He drove them to a stretch of beach they knew and loved, a quiet one and he drove the boat into the shallow water before he shucked off his shoes and socks, rolled his jeans up and jumped down, pushing it up onto the sand.

“Alright short stack…” he smiled as Mary grinned and stood up. She shucked off her life vest and he lifted her out of the boat before passing Fred over. He hopped back in, grabbed the parasol and a fold out chair, passing her a bucket and spade, all of which he had thrown on the boat whilst she’d headed off to get Fred, before they made their way up the beach.

Mary soon set off, digging about in the sand and collecting shells, like a normal kid her age should do and Frank settled down to watch her, occasionally glancing out into the ocean, spotting every so often the ripple of the resident pod of dolphins as they broke surface lazily. Mary was splashing around in the shallow pools on the beach, Fred by her side before she looked up and came running towards him, jumping on his knee as the birds flew down to inspect what the tide had washed in.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she smiled, shifting around to get comfortable. “Fred loves to watch the sandpipers.”

Fred gave a meow as if to confirm what she was saying and Frank looked down at the cat as it lounged in the shade.

“He thinks he'd like to catch one, but he'd regret it.” she continued “Fred's not a killer. He's a lover.”

She gave a sigh and leaned back into him, her back resting against his chest and Frank moved his arms as she took his left hand in both of hers, gently looking at his palm and playing with his fingers.

“Would my mom want me to go to this school?” she asked.

“I can only guess.” Frank replied, honestly “But I will tell you that she would have wanted you to have friends.”

“Idiot friends?”  Mary said, almost groaning.

“She'd want you to have compassion for others.” Frank tilted his head so he was looking down at the side of her face “Like a cat can have for a sandpiper.”

Mary paused and shifted slightly, looking down a little “But what if they don't like me?” she asked softly.

And God, if that didn’t break his heart! He swallowed and took a moment, before he looked at her.

Then they're idiots.” he said simply, and in his mind it was the truth.

Mary didn’t reply, instead she leaned back, her head on his shoulder and Frank gently wrapped his arms further around her, patting her stomach gently. They both sat in silence for a bit, Mary gently tickling the back of his hands with her own. He was just thinking about telling her they really should get back, when he felt her sit up.

“Hey, is that Fliss?”                                

Frank frowned and looked at her, “Where?”

“There, look.” He followed where she was pointing and squinted slightly. There was a woman riding a chestnut horse a little further down the beach, and it certainly looked like Fliss.

“Hang on…” Frank pulled out his phone. He dialled Fliss and as he watched he saw the woman pause and reach into her boot to retriever her phone.

“Hey…” she greeted him.

“Turn to your left.”

There was a pause and then as she did so the two of the waved. Fliss laughed.

“Be right there…”

She placed the phone back in her boot and then kicked the horse into a gallop. It sped over the sand, kicking up spray as it went and Mary giggled and jumped off Frank’s knee as she approached.

“Hi!” she beamed down at them as she pulled the horse to a stop. Frank stood up and smiled at her. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Had to take the speedboat for a test drive.” Frank shrugged.

“Test sail.” Fliss countered.

“Whatever.” Frank rolled his eyes as Mary was busy stroking Heidi’s face. “What about you?”

“Oh had a spare afternoon so decide to load her majesty up and come down here.” she smiled “It’s nice and quiet. Sometimes I see the dolphins too.” Frank noticed the way her face lit up as she said that, and he smiled.

“They’re even better up close.” Mary grinned.

“Well, one day maybe I’ll get the chance” Fliss smiled.

“I still owe you a ride.” Frank smiled and she grinned.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Fliss grinned, “And speaking of rides…” she looked at Mary and gestured to the horse.

Frank took a deep breath “seriously?”

“Come on.” Fliss said “She’ll be safe, I trust this horse with my life.” Mary, suddenly realising what was being said looked to Frank, her eyes sparkling.

“Fine…” Frank sighed, shaking his head “But drop her and I’ll kill you.”

“What do you take me for?” Fliss scoffed, removing her hat and handing it to Mary. Once she was seated in front of her Fliss held her tightly, one arm around her waist, the other in the reins and told Mary to hang on. She set off slowly at first and then with a grin kicked the horse on into a slow canter, and steered towards the sea.

“Shit…” Frank muttered, his heart in his mouth as the both cantered through the waves, the spray kicking up behind them. He could hear Mary’s shouting and laughing as it echoed up the beach. They went a little distance away before Fliss slowed down to a walk, Heidi continuing along her path steadily.

“So, I hear school wasn’t great?” Fliss said as they turned and made their way back at a slower pace.

“No.” Mary shrugged “Frank got mad.”

“Did you apologise?”

“Yeah…its ok now.” Mary shrugged “I just didn’t like it. And I don’t think they liked me.” Fliss took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you a secret, when I first started riding, the other kids didn’t like me either.” “Really?” Mary turned to face her as they wandered back, gently swaying with the horses motions.

“Nope, I came from a different back ground to them. We weren’t rich, I mean my mum and dad have money now but we didn’t always.”

“So what happened?” “I kept going.” Fliss said gently “And then I met a friend, a girl called Charlotte. She was the same. Her family sold all their belongings so she could pursue her dream.”

Heidi slowed to a stop by Frank but Fliss continued to talk “And we became good friends, and we worked hard. She did dressage, I did show-jumping. And we both grew up together, and encouraged each other, and we made the teams.”

“Are you still friends now?” “Yeah, I still talk to her now, I don’t see her as much but…” Fliss took a deep breath, the thought of the past still a bit painful. “The point is Mary, if you go in thinking that everyone is against you then believe me, it will seem that way. Maybe you should think about having an open mind and giving this a go, yeah?”

Franks eyes were hidden behind his glasses and at that moment he was kind of glad, because for some reason, there was a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes as he had observed his niece and Fliss together, the woman simply talking to Mary.

Mary pondered for a moment before she sighed “I suppose…”

Fliss smiled “Good, you’ll be glad you did.”

Mary shrugged “Maybe. Hey, you know what ad nauseam means?”

Fliss frowned and looked up as Frank gave a laugh “It means indefinitely, never ending…forever, why?” she looked at Mary. “Oh, something Frank said I’d learn at school but I didn’t.” she shrugged “But now I know, thanks.” “You’re welcome.” Fliss chuckled, as Frank helped her down. She watched her run off to pick up her cat.

“Thank you.” Frank said gently, turning to look up at Fliss.

“What for?”

“Talking to her, the way you always do. I don’t know how you do it Lissy, but you make her listen.”

“Don’t worry too much about her.” Fliss smiled “I know it’s easy for me to say but, well you always said today would be a challenge. See how she goes tomorrow.”

Frank smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck before he took a deep breath, suddenly making a decision. “I err, don’t suppose you wanna come for a drink on Friday? I’m only going to Fergs but…”

“I thought Fridays were your nights, you know where you sat at a bar, alone, all broody and mysterious.” Fliss grinned down at him.

Frank shook his head, a crooked smile spreading on his face “Yeah well, maybe I fancy a bit of company this week.”

Fliss looked at him for a moment, considering what he had said before she smiled “Ok, I got lessons until 6:30 but I can meet you there later on?”

Frank smiled “Great, it’s a date.”

Fliss arched her eyebrow and Frank inwardly cursed “I mean, not a date, but, you know, a…”

“You’re cute when you get flustered.” Fliss teased, cutting him off with a laugh “Don’t worry, Sailor, I know what you mean.”

With that she turned the horse back the way she had come and winking at Frank called to Mary. “Hey, you know when you asked if Heidi could still go really fast?”

Mary nodded.

“Well watch this.”

And with that Fliss gave the horse a gentle nudge and it erupted into a ridiculously fast gallop back down the beach. Fliss’ whoops echoed in the air as she looked back waving, and Mary ran a little way after her laughing and waving back.

****

Fliss was right. The next morning they had a little fuss but nothing drastic. Mary came home with a note about Wednesday being show and tell. Mary wanted to take Fred. So they bundled him into a cardboard box. Frank waited patiently outside until Mary was escorted back out by a classroom assistant to hand the cat back over.

“Enjoy that?” he said.

Mary nodded.

“I was talking to Fred.” Frank teased. Mary narrowed her eyes and he laughed.  “I’ll see you later ok?”

She came home a lot happier, talking to him about how the kids had asked her questions about Fred that she had answered and Frank couldn’t help but smile as she rambled on and on. Later, when he called Fliss he couldn’t stop himself from talking either and Fliss had been led on her bed, smiling at his voice as he continued to gush about his niece. Thursday and Friday passed much the same, which was why when Friday night came Frank was in a reasonably good mood, and ready to buy Fliss all the damned beer she wanted.

Fliss, however, was in a flap. Her lesson had overrun and now she had changed her outfit 3 times, finally settling on a light blue cotton knee length, sleeveless dress and brown sandals, leaving her hair loose and her make up light.  She hadn’t been out with her friends for, well, not since moving here. Sure, she’d been out with her parents and their friends but this felt different. And she was nervous.

“You look nice.” Her dad looked up as she walked into their living room. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, you sure you don’t mind dropping me?” she looked at him, “I can get a cab?”

“Don’t be daft.” Bill said, picking up his keys.

“Have a nice time, Honey!” her mum called.

Bill could tell Fliss was nervous so he made idle chit chat on the drive down to the main strip of bars and eventually pulled up outside Fergs.

“Just have fun.” he looked at her, squeezing her hand gently “And if you need me, call.”

“Thanks dad.” she smiled, kissing his cheek before she let herself out of the range rover and headed into the bar.

She glanced around for a second, looking for Frank and spotted him at a table talking to a dark haired woman, with a pretty face. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she really wanted to interrupt and was debating running back out to catch Bill when Frank looked up and saw her. Flashing her that smile that could melt her on the spot he waved her over.

"Thought you were gonna stand me up!" he grinned at her as she took a seat. "Sorry, my last lesson over ran." She answered before she smiled politely at the dark haired woman. "Hi..." "Oh, Fliss this is Bonnie, Mary's teacher." Frank introduced them. "Nice to meet you." Fliss smiled. The woman gave her a smile back and stood up speaking to her as she did so “Well, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time Frank and don’t want to eat into your date." "Oh this isn’t a date..." Fliss protested at the same time Frank shook his head "We're not..." he gestured between himself and Fliss with his hands "Fliss is Mary's riding instructor" "She horse rides?" Bonnie said, an air of surprise in her tone. "The idea was it would hopefully teach her social skills." Frank snorted. "Clearly hasn’t worked.." "Oh don't be so hard on her." Fliss jumped to the girls defence. "She's a good kid." "I bet it’s easier when you're trying to teach them something they actually want to learn, or in Mary's case teaching her something she doesn’t know." Bonnie said and Fliss laughed. "She’s actually one of the easier kids I have." She replied and Frank smiled at her comment "mind you, none of the kids give me any hassle really, it’s the adults that are hard work."

“Oh my god tell me about it.” Bonnie groaned “I dread Teacher-Parent evenings, honestly, some of them are so obtuse.” "I can imagine." Fliss grinned

"Anyway I better..." Bonnie gestured over her shoulder. "See you later Frank, and nice to meet you Fliss" "You too." Fliss nodded to he as Frank waved his hand in goodbye.

“What you drinking cowgirl?” he asked, standing up “I’ll go get em in.”

Fliss asked for a beer and sat down as he went to place their order. A few minutes later he was back, sliding the bud over to her.

“Thanks…” she took a huge drink. “I err, didn’t interrupt anything before did I?"

"No, not really." Frank shook his head "Not really?" "She errr...found out about Diane." Frank said. "Oh." Fliss frowned. "How? I mean..." "When I picked Mary up on Monday she was asking me about her background on account of her being so smart. I tried to fob her off, saying I had taught her a system, you know for arithmetic but she didn’t buy it. Apparently she’s been giving Mary a few more advanced equations to do…”

Fliss looked down as he slid the paper on the table over to him. It contained a number of formulas and algebra problems which Fliss could see Mary had completed.

“As you can see, she aced them. And then Bonnie googled the system I mentioned, and then me and up popped Diane.”

“So did you tell her the truth?” Fliss asked looking up at him, sliding the paper back.

“What option did I have?” He shrugged, folding it and shoving it in his pocket. “She came down here to call me out so I figured honesty was the best…what?" He asked when he noticed Fliss was frowning. "She came down here on a Friday night to find you?" Fliss snorted

Frank shrugged “That’s what she said.”

"How she know you'd be here?" "I'm here most Fridays...not that hard to find." "Maybe you should think about varying your routine, Sailor" Fliss grinned “And you should definitely think about varying this shirt.”

Frank glanced down at his bright yellow palm tree print Hawaiian shirt

“What’s wrong with it?” he pouted.

“What’s right with it more like.”

“Well I’m not one for corporatism.” Frank shrugged “I like to think I’m an individual.”

“Yeah, well I’m not sure planet Earth could deal with two of you.” Fliss shot back. “I can only just about cope with one…”

Frank paused before he looked at her, shaking his head with a snort as his mouth curled up at one corner “Well that’s just fucking rude.”

“Made you smile though.” Fliss grinned at him.

Frank looked at her for a moment before he felt his face split further into a grin as he looked at her. “Yeah, yeah you do…I mean did.”

He saw her cheeks flush in that adorable way they did, and he decided to save her from further embarrassment by changing the subject. It wasn’t long before they settled into an easy conversation and the events of the previous week and all worries about Mary flew completely from Frank’s mind.

**** Chapter 6

[mollymauk-teafleak]

“there’s something on your shirt. you – that’s blood!” + Vaxilmore

I kind of feel like we wrote this together with how much you helped me with the campaign 1 crash course :,) 

Also on Ao3 if anyone would like to leave a comment! 

---------

Shaun Gilmore looked like a man who enjoyed noise.

He looked like a man made for excess, for festive music and loud, wine fuelled laughter, for company high on fine food and dancing and whatever else they cared to bring to a party. With his embroidered edges and dripping gold jewellery, he would never strike anyone as someone to enjoy the silence after the end of a long day.

And there were some places where Shaun Geddmore and Shaun Gilmore blurred, where he couldn’t remember which likes and dislikes, what features of his personality he'd carried since birth and which had been carefully woven into the costume he’d worn to find success in Tal Dorei.

But this wasn’t one of them.

Shaun did like quiet. He liked his own company, he liked peace and silence, the ache in his muscles and clinging scent not unlike burning that came with a job well done and a lot of magic expended. He was content now, as he retired for the night in the evening stillness, locking the chamber door of the house he kept in Whitestone with full intention to not speak to another soul until the sun came up.

His work with Allura on the city defences was rewarding, a way to put his skills to a loftier use than selling trinkets and making the lives of common folk easier. Here, he was defending them. He was protecting people. It was just so exhausting.

He took a long, indulgent bath, though so much of him just wanted to collapse into bed and sleep away the brain fog. He knew the soak, the warm water, the scent of the herbs and spiced oils that always reminded him of Marquet, would do him better in the end. He made himself take his time as he took out all of the clasps in his hair and beard, combing the thick, black curls through, as he cleaned the salt of the day from his face. So it was nearly midnight by the time he wrapped himself in a silk robe and padded to the canopied bed but he certainly felt fresher and more relaxed.

A few pages of his book and then a generous handful of hours to sleep. Shaun chuckled to himself as he slid under the blankets, imagining what his love would say if he could see him. Most likely he’d be teased at how pampered he’d grown, at how one day of hard work could leave him so tired when he spent all his time tramping through gods only knew where, sleeping on the hard ground and living by his blade. Facing unknown foes every single day and now this business with the dragons, risking death in countless ways-

Shaun forced himself to stop, closing his eyes, fingers gripping his book tight enough that there would be indents left by his nails when he eventually let go.

You cannot help him by worrying he told himself with the weary sternness of a parent who’d told their child not to climb that tree a million times only to find them amongst the leaves again, you’ll only make him feel guilty when he returns.

When. Because his little bird would always fly home to him, every time, he promised whenever they had to part. And one day it would all be over and he could finally put a ring on his finger and he would never have to worry about where Vax’ildan was ever again.

Shaun had to believe that.

He made himself focus on his book, lighting the candle by his bedside with a wave of his hand, extinguishing the ones in the adjoining bathroom in the same gesture. And after a while, the tension eased and he could let go of his worries. Though his fingers still itched for the feel of soft, dark hair under them, his chest wouldn’t have felt so hollow if it had the gentle weight of a head pillowed on it.

Dawn would have found him slumped back against the pillows, glasses slipping off his nose and book slipped onto the floor if it hadn’t happened.

The magic had an unfamiliar, unpleasant scent, not unlike the dank, wet earth smell of a grave. That grabbed Shaun first, had him nearly up and on his feet, power crackling in his palm, before the sudden flash of energy even engulfed the room. He braced himself, muscles taut and face lined in cold concentration, ready for the attack.

But the flash faded, dissipating from the room like smoke, a powerful but uncontrolled moment in time, gone as fast as it had appeared.

And there was a new weight in the bed beside him.

“Vax’ildan?” Shaun cried in a strange mix of relief and horror.

His love was curled in a tight ball, still in that awful rank armour of his. His black hair had fallen across his face but what skin showed between the fronds was ashen and he trembled softly all over. Mud and ash and grime smeared Shaun’s silen sheets where it met his body.

Something was very wrong.

“Vax’ildan,” there was only urgency in his voice now, “Vax, speak to me. You’re safe, you’re here with me, it’s all okay…”

“Shaun?” his voice was a strained whisper, sounding strangely vague and disconnected like it didn’t come from him at all.

Having to fight to keep his calm, Shaun touched his shoulder gently and rolled him, wanting to see his face.

“Vax? Little bird, it’s me, you...what...there’s something on you, what- oh gods, that’s blood.”

All questions fled to the back of his mind. There was a large, dark stain of it spreading across his middle, soaking the padded shirt he wore beneath the armour. Shaun wished feverishly that it was someone else’s, a thought he’d feel guilty for later, but when he pressed gently, more welled up and Vax’s breathing turned shaky and pained.

“Oh Vax, my love, what happened?”

He asked but didn’t expect an answer, nor did he wait for one. He ripped away the light, leather plate, letting it fall carelessly to the floor, not stopping until the half elf was down to his undershirt. That went too, so he could see the wound. Small, nothing that wouldn’t heal in time, but he still found it so hard to look at, that ragged hole against the pale skin, where he’d placed who knew how many kisses.

“There was an arrow…” Vax mumbled vaguely, very out of it, “Must have left it behind…”

“What?” Shaun didn’t understand, he just jumped up and dived for the small medicine kit he kept amongst his travel bags, coming up with rages, bandages and a salve, summoning a bowl of clean water. He wasn’t as skilled a healer as some but he’d been around long enough to know how important it was to learn the basics.

Vax hissed and moaned through the process, the cleaning and the binding, the wound may not be fatal but it certainly was painful and it would only get more so as it healed. If it healed. If it didn’t get infected. Stop that.

It was only when the wound was securely bound and the herbs were doing their numbing work that Vax found his voice again, as his fingers groped blindly for Shaun’s. Even though there was a bowl of dirty water, bloody rags and armour that reeked of death waiting to be cleared away, Shaun clutched them tight and knelt by his side, not realising until he did so just how much he’d needed it.

“Sorry,” Vex exhaled weakly, “Didn’t mean to drop in on you like this.”

“But how?” Saun shook his head, trying to reconcile it with his own knowledge of magic and coming up with only one, seemingly impossible anwer, “Vax, was that a teleportation spell?”

“Was it?” Vax murmured, still a little vague, “I’m still getting used to all this…guess it could have been, it’s not like she gave me an instruction manual…”

Shaun felt a cold hand grip his insides. He didn’t have to ask who she was. Just another thing he’d been folding away, admonishing himself for thinking about.

It would be okay. Vax had promised. He had to believe that.

“We were on the way to Draconia...got jumped on the road, didn’t even see their faces. If it was just fucking high road bandits I’m going to be so pissed…”

“What? Getting yourself here all the way from Draconia...Vax, easy, try to focus. Slow breaths, that's it…” Shaun squeezed the slender, callused fingers held in his own, “You were attacked? Were you with the others?”

“Uh huh,” Vax tried to take deep breaths, wincing when it moved some clearly bruised ribs, “Was. But then I saw the arrow coming. Right at me, was going to bury itself right in my guts. Ever seen someone die like that? Slow. Messy. Your own poison leaking into you, no way to stop it…”

“Vax,” Shaun hoped his love was too out of it to hear the break in his voice, “You’re not going to die, it didn’t go deep enough.”

“No,” Vax managed a rough laugh, though it cost him another groan, “Because I left. I saw my own death coming...for the second time, I mean...and…”

“And?” Shaun prompted, his vision starting to swim.

“And all I wanted was to be with you. If I was going to die and it was gonna stick this time then...all I wanted was to see you. And I guess the random magic kicking around in me took that as a request.”

Shaun felt his throat tighten and all he could do for a moment was press Vax’s hand to his lips, his turn to tremble.

“Can you send a message to them?” Vax mumbled, “Stubby, she’ll be out of her mind. We were so close...”

“I will,” Shaun nodded, clearing his throat, “Of course. I’ll bring them here once I’m strong enough, Pike at least, so she can heal you. And then...then you’ll be back out there before you know it.”

He made the words leave his mouth, when everything else in him wanted to beg him to stay. To never leave the safety of Shaun’s arms, to leave the rest of the world to its dragons and it’s apocalypses, let the gods have their games, and just be his. As selfish as it was, Shaun would have given so much just to have the chance to say it and thus make it true.

Eventually the adrenaline leeched out of Vax and he slipped into sleep, no sign of it other than his breathing levelling out and his hands going slack in Shaun’s grip. He didn’t want to leave him sleeping in dirty sheets, still in his mud splattered boots and trousers, but the rest was what he needed now. There would be time in the morning.

He didn’t move from Vax’s side until he was sure he was fully asleep and wouldn’t miss him. Only then did he stand to send the message, over by the window. Before he summoned the strength from his frayed nerves, he looked out over Whitestone, at the shimmering transparent barrier that crowned the city, only visible when you looked through it and noticed the stars were swimming slightly. Or perhaps it was the tears in his eyes.

He’d built that barrier, he and Allura, to protect the city and every soul within it.

It seemed that Shaun Gilmore could protect everyone but the person he loved the most.

[ohholyfanfics]

Cherries & A Little Loving| Tom Holland

The First Date & Cherry Jars

Based off this prompt request here: Cherries

Note by Ellie: Part two maybe, I have another draft which is a continuation of this thats like another 3.4k words in. But anyways I hope you guys enjoyed and I tagged everyone who asked for a part too. Also much thanks to @oyesmendes​ for their support in getting me to finish this today.

His heart was beating a little quicker than usual as he moved in record speed. After practically begging for the night off, and much to Harrison’s dismay Tom wish was granted. He had been sweeping and vacuuming the whole flat for the past four hours, it was safe to say Harrison was getting light-headed with the smell of bleach and some wired scented candle Tom had purchased a bit too much off.

“Mate, she’s only gonna be over for a few hours..” Harrison reminded him as Tom sent him a glare while he pulled a couple of jars of maraschino cherries from a reusable bag. The blond’s eye widened before a loud laugh filled the small kitchen.

The brunette couldn’t help the fluttering feeling spreading through his body, he knew she was joking back the other night. Yet a certain part of him truly wanted to wow her, and he had spent his free time looking up the most romantic but super low key ways truly impressing a bird you fancied. So far he thought he was doing okay, and having Harrison laughing at his attempt truly wasn’t doing any good.

“Seriously mate..” he mumbled picking up a jar and turning it over reading the label. It was the same ones Steve always bought at the bar, the same ones that she had taken a liken too. “You must really like her huh?”

Tom shrugged his shoulders as he pulled a few more ingredients from the bag. As much as he wanted to wow her with his amazing skills, the truth was there wasn’t really a lot he could do in the kitchen. So he did the one thing he could do, he picked something he was decent at and decided that shrimp tacos were the way to go. He also, may or may not have tested a different recipe almost every day and brought it to his co-works for their thoughts and opinions.

“I just want to impress her is all, kinda wanna make up for all the shit date she’s been on.”

“She already likes ya mate.”

“It doesn’t hurt to put in a little effort Harrison.” he hummed while pulling out a cutting board placing the fresh shrimp on it. “plus I’m kinda hoping this would actually lead to something more.”

By the time she was set to arrive Tom had everything prepared, and he was freshly showered. After a few changes of outfits and messing with his hair in the mirror he had decided comfort was best, the last thing he needed was to look like he was trying too hard. When a soft knock was heard at the door, he had just finished filling a tiny little plate with the cherries. He couldn’t help but stop at the little mirror in the hallway giving himself a once over before finally opening the door.

Tom swore right then and there that God had personally sent down a choir of angels to sing when he opened the door. Her smile was blinding and she looked perfect beyond comparison. Her legs were covered in black ripped jeans as her torso was covered with a light pink sweater. Her makeup done similarly to the night of her awful date, and her hair was left in a tight bun.

“Um Hey.” He breathed out as she giggled softly leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Hey, oh wow, it smells lovely in here.”

His cheeks flushed as he closed the door behind her, he watched as she neatly placed her shoes beside him and a warm feeling rushed through him. It felt all so perfect almost as if that spot was meant for her.

“Um thinks..” he breathed out as his cheeks flushed. Truth was, everything kinda went south after he hopped out of the shower. After accidentally knocking over the filling for the tacos, he knew there wasn’t enough time to even try and remake more. Naturally, after a few curses and a quick clean up, he decided pizza was definitely the best way to go.

Way to go mate.

“I hope you don’t mind but I ordered us pizza.” He sighed softly with a soft frown. His hands were a sweaty mess as she looked at him. “I had this whole taco night thing planned out but I acciden-“

“Hey, it’s fine really,” she mumbled with a soft smile. Her right hand rested on his lower arm as she gently rubbed the spot causing a wave of fire to shoot through him. “you didn’t have to do all that Tom really.” 

“I just, I want you to have fun tonight.”

“Tom, I couldn’t literally be sitting at the bar watching you make drinks and get people pints and I would still be having fun.”

“You don’t have to say that.” he flushed as she giggled softly.

“I don’t have too but I mean it.” she nodded as his cheeks flushed. There she was standing before him, literally stating that she didn’t give a flying fuck about what they did. She honestly just admitted that she enjoyed being with him, she enjoyed his company and that right there was more than enough. 

“But I did get you something.”

Walking back into the room with a plate of cherries, her whole body became fuzzy and light. Her heart rate increased as he stood before her, the bright red treats making her eyes water as a soft giggle escaped her lips.

“You really know how to wow a girl.” she stated before she looked around at the small flat and an idea came to mind. “do happen to have flour? Cheese, ya know basic pizza ingredients?”

His smile widens seeing where and what she was trying to do. Her hands were gripping his own as her eyes held a twinkle in them that had him begging for air, and his whole world spinning. He hated to admit it by Harrison was right, he could’ve gone out to some fancy place ordered take out and she still wouldn’t care. After all, she had just admitted that she enjoyed being in his presence and that right there was enough to ease some of the nerves he was feeling that night.

“Yeah, I think we do.”

“Then let's get a cooking chief Tom.”

His eyes were loving as they watched her read the instructions out to her. Tom had managed to pull all of the basic ingredients needed out as they stood beside each other, her hands rested on her hips as she started to measure the ingredients while he carefully watched with a soft smile and a look in his eyes that one would describe as love.

“Have you ever done this before?”

She stopped measuring the yeast as she looked at him with a soft smile and a slow nod of her. Her breathing controlled and relaxed as she went back to measure and pouring everything in the bowl he set out for her.

“My brother and his best friend are both in the restaurant business, so pizza nights were a huge thing growing up.”

“You have an older brother?”

“Three brothers actually, I’m the only girl,” she stated as he raised an eyebrow.

“Should I be worried?”

“Not unless your plan on hurting me to a point of no return.” She teased bumping her hips with his. He rolled his eyes taken the bowl from her. “what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Ever made pizza? Do you have any siblings?” She asked watching as he mixed together the things in the bowl before letting it rest.

“I mean we’ve bought the pre-made dough before if that counts..” he chuckled looking back at the bowl and back to her. She nodded her head telling him it was fine.

“Just gotta wait till it gets all foamy and bubbly.” she stated looking past his shoulder. “should take at least five minutes or so.”

“Gotcha ya, but I’m the oldest of four.” He started as she smiled softly. This was a different side of the bartender, a more shy and reserved one. “All boys no sister.”

“Oh no, your poor mãe Tom..” she giggled softly as he tilted his head in confusion. Her eyes widen lightly understanding the look.

“Mãe means mom in Portuguese.”

“Ah, a woman of many talents I see..”

It wasn’t long before the pair were adding the olive oil, flour and salt.  Tom insisting to be the one to mix it all together, not having the heart to go against him, she took the pleasure of adding more flour as needed. His hands mixing as she floured a clear surface.

“Want me to do it?” she asked as he handed her the small sticky ball of dough. He watched with fascination her skilled hands working the dough as it formed the most perfectly round shape he’d ever seen a person make. Her flour-covered hands reaching for the cup as she rolled out the dough.

“I think I need to get a roller..” he breathed out as she giggled softly giving him a wink before continuing rolling it out. “ now what?” He asked as she placed it on the baking sheet.

“Now you place it in the oven for a few minutes.” she breathed as she placed in the preheated oven. “just until it’s a little to pre-bake the crust, my brother always says 5 minutes for pre-bake.”

“He sounds like a wise man.” Tom smiled as she nodded her head chewing on her bottom lip. “Does he live around here?”

“No, he actually moved to Birmingham.”

“Ah not too far than..” he breathed as she nodded her head and took the crust out from the oven. Her eyes soften as she looked back at him with a soft smile to match her eyes.

“Now for toppings…” she asked, holding out a jar of cherries as he laughed, shaking his head.

“Definitely not, but I’m not opposed to pineapple.”

“Where have you been all my life.”

Tom was surprised at how well everything had turned out. They spent the remaining of the time cleaning up the kitchen as the rest of the pizza was baking. A small glass filled with her go-to drink at the bar, and a bottle of beer for him. His mind relaxing completely as she slowly opened up in his presence, making his heart swell at the beautiful woman before him.

“I have to say, I thought I’d fuck up.”

She giggled softly and took a sip of her drink. She found it completely and utterly adorable at his confession. The mere thought that he had put so much thought into something that was supposed to be simple, yet it was so simple but the most fun she’d ever had on a date.

“I don’t think so Tom.” she breathed out as his smile widened reaching for another slice of pizza.

It was safe to say that the date had gone absolutely better than he had expected. It was a rather low key date, but totally something that she loved. She also let him know just how much she had appreciated all his efforts and even pressed the softest of kisses on his lips before slipping through the door. Tom was on cloud nine the next morning and Harrison took that as a good sign.

That same night was like any other, the usual Saturday night crowd. His mood was a little brighter and it most definitely had something to do with the young woman who just walked in. His eyes held nothing but adoration as he quickly pulled out the white plate with the treats.

“You know Steve is gonna give you shit for all the missing cherry jars.” Harrison piped up as Tom shrugged his shoulders placing her drink and plate as she approached. It was a Saturday and she never came in on Saturdays, Tom knew that Harrison knew that. Hell, even the young college freshman knew it.

“Hey, darling.” He smiled softly as she sent him a smile and a small wave in Harrison’s direction. 

“Is it weird that I miss you?” she breathed out chewing on her bottom lip as he let out a small laugh shaking his head. Truth was, the few hours they had spent together before he left for work truly wasn’t enough, he found himself craving more and more of her.

“No.,” he stated as he filled up an empty pint, their eyes meeting briefly. “Cause I missed you too.”

Her cheeks flushed as she played with one of the cherries on the plate before her. Her cheeks red as she avoided his eyes. Harrison couldn’t hide his amusement as he gave Tom a small nudge, in assurance. The two had spent a good while analyzing everything that had gone on during their date and little hang out at the coffee shop down the street before he had to get ready for work.

“Mate, she wouldn’t have asked to see you if she didn’t feel something towards ya.” he breathed outpointing the neck of the bottle in his direction.

“Still mate, I just really like her.”

“Didn’t she say she liked being with ya?” Harrison stressed as Tom nodded his head, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “that’s a good sign, plus she doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl to play with feelings.”

“I don’t know mate, I just-it’s intense what I feel.”

“Maybe this runs deeper than a crush Tom.”

She brought the last few cherries to her lips as she studied the place. The pub had become a signature hangout spot for herself and her friends. Will’s being a bit too far of a drive and no one really wanted to drive that far for drinks. The first time they walked in was a little shorter than three months ago, and that was the first time she and Tom had met.

“I’ll be done with my shift soon.” He announced as she smiled brightly and leaned closer to him. Her butt lifting off the barstool as her hands rested on the counter.

“Wanna meet me at my place?” she smiled softly as his cheeks burned at the thought of finally having that alone time with her that he caved.

“I don’t wanna-“

“Stop with that Tommy..” she cooed as Harrison let out a chuckle at the nickname that slipped past her lips.

“Yeah Tommy, stop..”

The two couldn’t help but laugh at Tom’s expense. Harrison giving her a soft wink before grabbing a clean up and working on a drink as he left the two alone.

“I’ll make something to eat, I bet you're hungry..”

“If you don’t mind.”

She waved him off leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he smiled softly looking at her with so much love in his eyes it was overwhelming. Her cheeks flushed as she stood up straight, took her bag, and promised to have dinner ready and told Harrison she’d be sure to send Tom home with leftovers.

“I like her,” Harrison smirked looking at his flushed friend who nodded his head with a bright smile.

“Me too mate.”

Tom whipped his hands with the towel as he threw it with the others. His hands a little clammy as he took a hold of his coat, his head spinning at the thought of going over to hers. Sure, it wasn’t as late as he had thought but it was certainly not a time he would be planning to go to a girl’s house, Netherlands a girl that he wasn’t officially seeing. Though he did like to think they were a bit past the uncertainty of emotions.

“Tom a word.”

Shrugging his jacket on, Tom followed Steve into the back office. The door closed behind him and he suddenly felt a wave of nerves flood through his body. He tried his hardest to pinpoint anything he could’ve possibly done that was against policy rules, other than the cherries, he couldn’t find any. He did his job fairly well, and Steve had even stated time and time again that he was one of his best bartenders. The last thing Tom needed was to get fired before his job was finalized.

“I’ve noticed a few of our cherry jars have been missing.”

Tom’s cheeks redden with the smirk on his boss’ face, Harrison was right. He sighed more than ready to defend himself.

“I get you like the girl mate, just try and not give out too many cherries okay?”

“Shit I’m not fired?”

A loud laugh filled the room along with Tom’s nervous chuckle as Steve shook his head. He knew how much Tom needed this job and the last thing he was gonna do is lose a bartender over some shitty cherries no one really ate.

“Course not, just try not to give her too many.”

“I’m no- I don’t- fuck” he was a wordless mess as he tried his hardest to defend himself, of course, he came out short. “Just wanna impress her.”

“Does she like you?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow. He had missed the sweet little encounter and knew that Tom deserved a good girl in his life.

“I think so, I’m actually heading to her in a bit.” He mumbled with a dreamy smile on his face as Steve let out another laugh.

“Bring her a jar.”

“You sure? I have some at home.”

“You have cherries at home?”

“The same brand actually..” he admitted embarrassedly. He really was pulling out all the cards in hopes of impressing this girl, even though he already had her. “It’s her favorite thing.”

If that Tom left the bar with a small brown bag carrying a few jars of cherries. Harrison couldn’t help the smug look in his direction as he waved him goodbye. His mood shifting as he pulled his phone out wondering if it was okay to text her, or should he wait until he actually leaves his place to do so. There was so much uncertainty it was doing his head in. He was an adult acting like a lovesick teenager and he wasn’t sure he wanted it to ever stop.

Picking the later, Tom stopped by an open corner store buying a display of flowers that he deemed acceptable. Once he was changed, showered and he may or may not have spent a few moments wondering if it was appropriate to spend the night at her place, after a few inner battles he decided that he didn’t want to get too ahead of himself and possibly spoil something that could be so good. So with a bouquet of flowers and a bag full of cherries Tom made his way to her flat.

To say Tom was completely and utterly shitting himself when he arrived would be an understatement, he double-checked the address twice. He didn’t know much about her but what he did know he was learning to love, but now sitting in a rather posh neighborhood in central London his breathing was a bit ragged and his hands a sweaty mess.

Her door was decorated with the most adorable welcome sign, that his mother would no doubt question where she could get one as well. He couldn’t help but smile at the pink and white flower plants leading up the steps to her front door. It was black and unfit for the small colorful display she had set up, the lights were on, unlike the others around them.

Taken a deep breath, he looked over his outfit. Jeans and a hoodie, simple but perfect for the small little hang out, but was it a hangout? What if this was another date and he had completely overlooked the whole situation. Before he could even think twice he was ringing the doorbell and his heart was beating out of his chest as she opened the door.

“You came..”  

“Of course I did darling..” he breathed out giving her a smile as he reached out and handed her the flowers.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers Tommy..” she breathed out shutting the door behind him. His eyes taken in her flat, the white walls lingered with pictures and a small little menu that he could only guess was from her brother’s bar.

“No worries.” he smiled pulling her in with one arm wrapped around her waist. Her cheeks flushed as she rested her free hand on his chest. Her eyes twinking as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Ready to eat?”

“Starved.”

“Perfect, I made my mae’s famous pasta.”She smiled as they walked down the hall towards her open kitchen. Tom noticed that the house seemed to follow the same color scheme. Everything was really white and clean, it was simple and it screamed her. 

“What’s in the bag?” She asked as she turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. She watched as his smile widen as he pulled out two little jars of the cherries she was munching on. 

“You really gotta stop spoiling me with all these cherries Tom..” she breathed out as she got closer to the brunette with a giddy feeling spreading all over her.

“Why’s that?”

“Cause I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

“That’s the plan sugar.” 

Taglist: 

@littlebookbengal​ @mars1599​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @tholland96​

[psychosistr]

Kings

Summary: Domino is forced to attend a party for FOWL’s top agents, and is having a hard time enjoying himself when the presence of someone in particular makes him feel very uncomfortable. Good thing Steelbeak’s there to provide both a distraction and some surprisingly good advice.

Notes: This was a little something written to wish @thefriendlyfour a happy birthday! Thanks for everything you do!

(P.S.- All OC’s in this story belong to her, not me)

Dominic was not having a good time…

It wasn’t often that FOWL High Command granted permission and spared funds on things deemed “unnecessary” for work. Everything from bank heists to political blackmail schemes and even the smallest pieces stolen from museums- every cent earned was carefully accounted for, recorded, and allocated properly. FOWL was a big organization that had many facilities to maintain- and even more workers to pay (maintenance and repair men, scientists, eggmen, all the way up to the special agents) to keep everything running smoothly.

Still, even with everything that had to be paid for, High Command understood the basic concept of things like “morale” and had to relent and reward their workers- particularly their top agents- every once in a blue moon (though it was mostly to make sure that they would feel content with their jobs and not try to leave and use their skills and training to make it as solo villains). Parties seemed to be the easiest and most effective way of keeping employee morale up: It only took one day of actual work, and food and beverages were easy to acquire and serve. After that, all that was required were a decently sized venue and some half-way decent music.

That was how the chief officer of FOWL, Steelbeak, and his partner, Dominic “Domino”, found themselves spending the evening in a heavily fortified and closely monitored outpost several miles away from Saint Canard at a party for FOWL’s most accomplished agents.

The large central room of the relatively unused outpost had been cleaned up and hastily decorated with a few different colored lights and decorations that were likely leftovers from the last party that had been thrown there. There were tables of catered food and drinks ranging from standard soda to a large punch bowl and even a fully-stocked bar all along one wall, leaving the majority of the floor open for agents to mingle and converse freely. The wall opposite the food and drinks housed a small stage that was being used for the evening’s entertainment: A small but highly talented orchestra with a full string section and a full-sized grand piano that had been brought in just for the occasion.

The party had been in full-swing for more than an hour already, but Dominic wanted nothing more than to leave and it was for one reason and one reason alone…

It wasn’t because he hated parties. Granted, he was by no means a party-loving social-butterfly, but he could still have fun and enjoy himself so long as the venue wasn’t overly crowded and his fellow partygoers weren’t so intoxicated that they forgot to respect his boundaries. In fact, compared to the parties he’d been dragged to at the northern base (which tended to involve excessive amounts of alcohol, brightly colored flashing lights, deafeningly loud pop music, and half of his team drinking to the point of passing out while he stayed sober to keep them from getting into too much trouble), this was one of the nicer soirees he’d been to in a while.

It wasn’t because he disliked his fellow agents. While there were still many new people that he was getting acquainted with and had yet to familiarize himself with each and every person present, the others in attendance all seemed like intelligent, capable, reasonable individuals who were pleasant to converse with in small doses. They also had enough common sense to not trust one another, so no one was trying to get hammered- meaning no loudmouthed or clingy drunkards to deal with, which always made for a much more pleasant evening.

It wasn’t because of his partner- if anything, the other man’s presence was one of the only things making this whole evening more bearable. As chief officer of FOWL, Steelbeak’s presence was required at any gathering of its most elite agents, which meant that Dominic, as partner of the current chief officer, was also required to attend. To the loon’s surprise, Steelbeak seemed even less excited to attend the event than his partner, stating that he found High Command’s mandatory gatherings boring and repetitive (if they were all like THIS, though, Dominic could certainly understand why the rooster felt that way after eight years of forced attendance). The lighter fowl’s hushed banter and sarcastic remarks about the party and some of the other agents never failed to bring a small smile to his more serious partner’s face and even elicited a few quiet laughs that were drowned out by the music.

No, everything else at the party was somewhat boring, but otherwise tolerable…except for one thing…one frustratingly perfect, ever present thing that he tried VERY hard to stay as far away from as possible…as long as he stayed by the wall and what he was trying to avoid stayed in the center of the room conversing with another agent about who knows what, then he’d be fi-

“Geez, short fuse, ya look like you’re waitin’ for a bomb t’ go off.” The familiar voice of his partner offered the loon a much needed distraction from his thoughts.

Dominic glanced away from the crowd of agents in front of him and looked instead to his approaching partner who’d broken away long enough to join him in his sequestered corner against the wall by the stage. “If that were the case, we might have a valid reason to get out of here.”

Steelbeak leaned against the wall beside the loon, looking across the room at the bar as if he were seriously considering it as a solution to their current predicament. “Well, there IS a full bar over there…find me a microwave an’ a can of that spray-on oil from the kitchen and I could whip somethin’ up.” It was hard to tell how much of that was actually a joke.

A smile tugged up the corners of the darker bird’s beak even as he shook his head. “Tempting as that is, we would probably just receive orders to turn the event into some sort of ‘garden party’ in the woods..and I know how much you love nature.”

A visible shudder ran down the taller fowl’s body at the thought of spending that much time out in the forest. “No-ho thank you, all that fresh air makes me gag.” He even made a retching sound to prove his point, earning a quiet laugh from the other man that made him smile and laugh along for a moment. “So, if we’re not all ‘bout t’ go out in a big ball of fire, then why’re ya over here lookin’ like you’re ‘bout t’ dig someone’s grave?” He asked after they’d both had a moment to regain their composure. “I’d ask if someone touched ya or somethin’, but I haven’t seen anyone go flyin’ through a wall or stuffed inside a cello case, so it can’t be that bad.”

Darn it, Steelbeak had gotten too good at reading the darker bird after three months of dating him. At times like these, Dominic wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed or grateful for that fact…

“No, nothing that extreme yet.” Red eyes glanced over the crowd and once more found their target. “I’m just…trying to avoid someone..”

Dark grey eyes followed the other’s gaze and landed on a well-dressed man who stood out among the crowd. “Wait…Osprey? Ya know ‘im?”

Of course he knew him. Who didn’t?

Agent Edward Osprey was a statuesque brown and white hawk that was even taller than Steelbeak. Everything about him was elegant and perfect from his immaculate feathers to his tailored blue suit coat, long-tailed shirt, black pants, and neatly folded white ascot. On top of being well-groomed and well-dressed, the man was undeniably handsome with his sharp features and piercing black eyes offset by yellow sclera- his eyes were even accentuated further by the brown band of feathers that cut perfectly across the lighter feathers on the rest of his face. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a painting; to have such perfect features shouldn’t have been possible in nature.

Oh, but the perfection didn’t end at the osprey’s looks- oh no. He was one of the most musically talented men Dominic had ever seen, being both a concert-level pianist and conductor- the orchestra which provided most of the evening’s music had been led by him when he wasn’t playing the grand piano for the crowd’s applause. The hawk was also an incredibly skilled agent specializing in sharp objects and weaponry with a nearly flawless track record under his belt. Add to that the fact that he was nothing but charming and gentlemanly to everyone he met (enemies not withstanding), and you had the walking reality-defying-perfection that was agent Edward Osprey.

“We’ve..met before, yes…” Dominic folded his arms over his chest, trying to look away while still keeping the source of his current stress and anxiety in his peripheral vision.

“Ya don’t sound too thrilled ‘bout it.” Steelbeak pointed out while eyeing his partner with one brow cocked. “I’m guessin’ ya don’t like the guy?”

Oh boy, now THERE was mine field that was difficult to navigate.. “I don’t…dislike him..”

“But ya don’t like ‘im either, right?” Once again, Steelbeak proved how good he’d gotten at reading the loon over the past few months.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, Dominic closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall behind them. “…Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Hmmm, weeeeeellll~” The fake contemplation ended when a single red eye opened just enough to side-eye the rooster with a warning glare, making said rooster break into a grin. “Alright, alright, I’ll hold it in.” The red eye narrowed at him and he held up his hands to show he wasn’t crossing any of his fingers. “Promise.”

Though he hardly trusted the other man’s word, Dominic would take what he could get. After taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes again, the words he’d been trying to avoid speaking aloud finally came out. “He makes me feel………uncomfortable..”

A brief but repressed snicker was heard before his red eyes opened and gave the taller fowl a warning glare. “Sorry, somethin’ in my throat.” A clear lie, but Dominic let it slide (this time). “So, why does Mr.Fancypants over there make ya uncomfortable? Knowin’ ‘im, he probably didn’t do nothin’ to ya on purpose- the guy takes it as some sorta personal offense if anyone forgets their manners ‘round ‘im. Think he’d have a stroke if he was the one bein’ rude for a change.”

“No, he isn’t rude- I don’t think he has it in him to be anything less than an absolutely perfect gentleman.” The loon looked across the room again, making sure the man in question was still far away and that no one was close enough to overhear him aside from his partner. “And that’s part of the problem: He’s just so..so-!”

“Practically perfect?” Steelbeak supplied, the look he gave the shorter fowl both amused and understanding.

“Yes.” Dominic groaned, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. “He’s just so perfect in everything he does- he’s attractive, strong, clever, talented, gets along with EVERYONE, and has the highest record of successful missions in FOWL ever.” His eyes lingered on his hand as it lowered once more. “He’s so infuriatingly perfect that it makes me seem so…” His words trailed off into a mumble at the end, not wanting to voice how the hawk really made him feel…

“So, just t’ make sure I’ve got this whole thing right-” The lighter bird began without waiting for Dominic to repeat himself (likely because he knew he wouldn’t do so willingly). “Osprey’s so perfect that ya feel less perfect bein’ around ‘im?” Darn it, three for three- Steelbeak was on a roll tonight.

“Who wouldn’t?” He didn’t bother to look at his partner again while muttering his response.

He was right, of course: Who wouldn’t feel inferior next to someone like Edward Osprey?

“Heh.” The answer he received was a short, clipped laugh followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

By the time Dominic looked back up to see what the other man was doing, the metal-mouthed fowl was heading towards the stage. “Steelbeak?” He called after him, but received no response.

One by one, others in the room began to notice the new figure stepping up onto the stage. It had been vacant for about twenty minutes now, allowing Osprey and his orchestra to take a break and enjoy the festivities themselves. With this in mind, it was understandable that the others in attendance were reasonably surprised to see none of the previous performers take to the stage- but the chief officer himself.

Steelbeak ignored the confused looks and hushed whispers as all eyes in the room were suddenly on him. He simply cracked his knuckles and shook out his fingers before seating himself at the grand piano, never even acknowledging them or saying a word.

Then, after taking a quick breath, he began to play.

The melody was captivating- soft but passionate; steady but rapid; light but powerful. Everything about it was such a contradiction, but it somehow just worked. It seemed to change and evolve as the song progressed, sometimes changing to the point of almost seeming like a completely new song, but then that familiar pattern would find a way to weave itself back in naturally to connect it all back together.

And then there was the sheer amount of skill and movement of those off-white fingers across the keys; they were practically a blur during the crescendos. The notes came so quickly that Steelbeak’s hands were never still, even for a second, often having different fingers of the same hand playing at completely separate rhythms from one another. Honestly, it was astonishing that they didn’t trip over themselves. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them fly and jump from one key to the next with expert timing.

Dominic was transfixed by the sights and sounds. While Steelbeak had told him of his experience as an undercover concert pianist on their first date, he had never actually heard him play before. He’d also never heard this song before, but there were no doubts in his mind that few could play it as well as Steelbeak was then and there.

Managing to tear his eyes away from the spectacle long enough to look around the room, it seemed he wasn’t the only one to feel that way. Everyone was staring in awe at their chief officer’s jaw-dropping performance. Even Osprey, who’d worked his way closer to the stage since the song began, seemed genuinely shocked and amazed by Steelbeak’s playing.

The song reached its final crescendo and Steelbeak let it drag on for a moment. Before anyone could pick their collective jaws up off of the floor and react appropriately, however, he immediately began to play another tune.

While still incredibly difficult to play and requiring a good deal of hand-acrobatics to hit each note properly, this one was softer than the last. There was something light and almost..sweet to it- as if the first one was to show off, but this one was to communicate something deeper.

This was another song that Dominic was unfamiliar with but, judging by the similar movements required to play the complex melody properly, it felt like it was by the same composer.

It stirred something in him as he listened, the gentle tune causing a pleasant shiver to linger in his body and a warm feeling to blossom in his chest. For a moment, he thought of the love songs he’d heard in the past- of their cheesy lyrics declaring adoration that ultimately became meaningless with how many people sang those words over and over again. Those songs were cute, but they ultimately felt hollow without a sense of genuine romance to them.

This song, though…This one, without any words or blatant messages to project, somehow felt more like a true love song than any the loon had ever heard in his life. This was raw, passionate, gentle, and beautiful all at once…and he’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t have him blushing a little..

By the time Steelbeak finished playing and stood up, the partygoers had recovered from their initial shock and finally applauded the exemplary performance they’d been treated to. Steelbeak, for his part, just smirked and gave a quick wave over his shoulder as he left the stage, not even taking a bow despite how well-earned it was at that point.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Dominic began once the other man joined him against the wall once more. “But what was that about?”

Steelbeak looked down at him with a smirk, but it was less teasing and far softer than usual. “Just MY way of answerin’ your question.” Before the loon could ask for clarification, Steelbeak looked towards the piano he’d just been playing. “You were askin’ who wouldn’t feel less perfect ‘round someone like Osprey: I wouldn’t ‘cause I know I’ve got somethin’ I’m better at than him.” Dark grey eyes returned their attention to the red ones still looking up at him. “One thing I’ve learned from bein’ chief officer all these years is that ya can’t be better than everyone at everythin’, someone’s ALWAYS gonna have somethin’ they’re better at than you are. The trick t’ stayin’ on top an’ remindin’ everyone why YOU’RE the king an’ they’re the pawns is t’ find the one thing you’re better at than whoever you’re up against an’ make ‘em feel like you’re superior ‘cause of it.”

Dominic took a moment to digest this new philosophy. It certainly seemed to make sense, and would probably explain why Steelbeak always acted like he was better than everyone- it was a way to stay on top and keep others from challenging him by appearing superior. While this information was useful, there was still one part of the chief officer’s advice that was easier said than done: “So you’re saying that I have to find something I’m better at than him? That’s asking a lot since I don’t have any comparative talents like you do.” Dominic didn’t really have much experience with playing instruments or conducting, so he couldn’t use that for any sort of advantage (and while his singing voice was pretty good, he’d never heard Osprey’s so it would be hard to compare them). They were experts with completely different weaponry, so no luck there. The hawk had a better track record for missions than he did, so he couldn’t use anything work related. “I don’t think-”

“You’re a better leader.”

Red eyes blinked in confusion and stared up at the taller bird. “What?”

“You’re a better leader.” The other repeated once more, looking down at the loon with an expression halfway between a smirk and an encouraging smile. “Osprey’s got one heck of a record with missions an’ gets along with everyone, but you’re a better leader than him: Ya know when t’ be nice an’ when t’ be serious. Ya know when t’ listen t’ others an’ when t’ make ‘em listen t’ YOU instead. Ya walk int’ the room an’ command guys three times your size t’ shut up an’ do what they’re told an’ put ‘em in their place if they even THINK ‘bout talkin’ back.” With a smirk, he inclined his head in the general direction of the crowd. “That’s why you’re over here with me an’ he’s over there with them. Sure, his track-record’s higher, but YOU’RE the one High Command picked t’ stand at the top with me- ya beat him an’ everyone else in FOWL for your position ‘cause ya deserved it.” Having made his point, Steelbeak reclined fully against the wall once more, his hands raised to cushion his head against the hard surface in a casual manner. “If anyone ever makes ya question yourself, just remember: I actually listen t’ YOU.”

Dominic was floored (and..maybe a little touched?) by his partner’s words.

After a moment of contemplation, he began to feel a smile slip onto his beak. Steelbeak had a valid point and wasn’t just stroking Dominic’s ego: The loon WAS a pretty good leader. He could coordinate teams ranging from two people to two hundred. He learned his teammates’ strengths and weaknesses and planned around them accordingly to complete any task he’d been assigned.

And, if nothing else, getting someone as bigheaded and arrogant as Steelbeak to listen to him HAD to count for something.

Before he had the chance to thank the chief officer for his rare-words of encouragement, another voice added itself to their conversation. “Steelbeak, your performance was absolutely awe-inspiring!” Looking away from one another to see who’d come to join them, the deadly duo saw none other than Edward Osprey approaching them. He smiled and bowed his head politely. “Do forgive my intrusion, but I simply HAD to commend you for your beautiful rendition of La Campanella: That is an incredibly difficult piece that I struggle with even after a few warm-ups.”

Steelbeak ate up the praise as one would expect, giving Osprey a smirk while idly bringing one hand around to inspect his fingers like a girl checking her nails for imperfections. “Woooow, really? That’s what I play FOR my warm-ups. Start with the harder ones an’ everythin’ else’s easy, y’know?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Osprey was quick to agree, never losing his genial smile. “Though, I must say, I didn’t know you were so familiar with Liszt. Your playing of Love Dream was very emotional- anyone in particular you were dedicating that performance to?”

That actually seemed to trip the rooster up a little, Dominic catching a bit of red on the other’s cheeks between his light feathers as he tried to play it off cool-and-casual. “I mean…maybe…it’s just a song, though, no big deal..”

It was Dominic’s turn to smirk knowingly at the other man. “Well, if there was someone you had in mind while playing it, I’m fairly certain they would have found it beautiful and charming.”

Steelbeak side-eyed the loon, his cheeks going a bit darker, but was saved by another agent coming up to them. “Hey, can you play one more? Everyone loved you out there!” To the trio’s surprise, the request was directed at Steelbeak rather than Osprey.

“Eh, I dunno-” Steelbeak started to say, but his eyes wandered over to Dominic and something in those dark grey depths shifted. “…Ya know what? Sure. I can handle one more.” Then, to everyone’s delight, he walked back up to the stage and took his seat at the piano once more.

“I had no idea he was so talented.” Osprey admitted to Dominic once the lighter bird was out of earshot. “I must admit, I’m a little jealous that you get to work so closely with him- that man’s been chief officer longer than some of us have even been agents.” He looked away from the stage to meet the loon’s gaze directly. “I can only imagine what you must have gone through to earn his respect and companionship.”

“Thank you. It has been.. a journey, to say the least…” Dominic was more than a little surprised..but not necessarily by the taller man’s words- Osprey was polite to everyone and was no stranger to sincere flattery. No, what REALLY surprised the loon was the fact that he just had a conversation (albeit a brief one) with Edward Osprey without any feelings of anxiety or inferiority rising up within him.

What Osprey said next was lost on Dominic as he heard Steelbeak begin to play. This song was different from the others. It was a completely different composer, era, and genre of music- one that the loon was all too familiar with since it had been played in his car a couple of times while his partner sat beside him in the passenger seat praising his singing of the accompanying lyrics. A soft smile tugged at his beak as Dominic listened to the equally soft melody, knowing that this was likely just Steelbeak’s way of driving his earlier point home and wasn’t really meant to be recognized by anyone else.

It was Dominic’s turn to receive a few stares- first from the other agents in the room, and then from Steelbeak himself when he passed in front of the piano to grab the microphone that had been left in its stand nearby. Once he removed it from its spot and made it more mobile, Dominic walked closer to the piano and leaned against it casually. He did a circular gesture with two of his fingers and Steelbeak smiled, instantly knowing what his partner wanted.

Without missing a beat, Steelbeak smoothly looped the song back to the beginning and nodded to Dominic when it was time to join in.

Nodding back, the darker bird brought the microphone closer to his beak and closed his eyes as he began to sing. “You're a-lone. You're on your own. So what? Have you gone blind? Have you for-got-ten what you have and whaaat is yours?”

He blocked out the stage lights; blocked out the crowd around them and their eyes on him. “Glass haaalf empty~, glass haaalf full- well~, either way you won't be go~ing thirsty; Count your blessings, not your flaws.”

There was only one set of eyes on him that mattered right now, and he knew the look they held without even having to see them. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to bed…You can be king a~gain…”

Another quick breath stolen between verses and he gained the confidence to open his eyes, but he kept his gaze locked solely on the one gazing back at him with awe and adoration. “You don't get wha~at all thiiss i~s a~bout. You're too wra~pped up in your self-doubt. You've got that young blood, set it free…”

The smile on Steelbeak’s face was brighter than any of the lights pointed at the pair on stage, making Dominic feel twice as warm and making him smile just as much. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to~ bed…You can be king.”

There was a spark of something in the air between them- that same connection they shared when they were working together to take down an enemy that made both of them feel so much more aware of one another on a completely different level. “There's method i~n my ma~adness…There's no looogic in your sa~dness…You don't gaaiinn a siinngle thing from misery~yy…Take it from mee~ee…”

He used his free hand to close the piano’s cover, careful not to let it drop and ruin the gentle decrescendo of the song. “You've got it all~ You lost your mind in the sound. There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown. You're in controoll- Rid of the monsters insi~de your head…Put all your faults to~ bed…You can be king.”

Dominic gracefully lifted himself up to sit on the closed piano, one hand holding the microphone in front of him while the other was braced behind him so he could lean back with his legs crossed in front of him- head tipped back as he belted out the notes of the final verse. “You've got it all! You lost your mind in the sound! There's so much mooore, you can reclaim your crown! You're in control- Rid of the monsters inside your head! Put all your faults to bed…You can be king again!”

Red eyes met dark grey, one additional line being sung softly and with so much more feeling than any other line before it. “We can be kings a~gain.”

Steelbeak’s playing came to an end and the two were left staring at one another fondly. There were cheers and applause and words being called to them, but neither man payed them any mind.

After all, they were the kings standing at the top.

End Notes: For anyone who’s curious, here are the songs that Steelbeak played in order: The first is La Campanella by Liszt. The second is Liebstraum No.3, also known as Love Dream, also by Liszt. And the final piece that Domino sang along to at the end was King by Lauren Aquilina.

When choosing the first two songs for Steelbeak to play, I asked a couple of my friends who were piano majors in high school what the most difficult type of music to play is that still sounds good. The general consensus among most of them was, and I quote, “people who hate their hands but love to please others usually play Liszt”- and La Campanella came up repeatedly as one of the hardest songs to play, so I went with it xD

Once again, happy birthday to @thefriendlyfour / @eleanorose123 ! Hope you had a good one and thank you for another year of awesome content!

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch 5: Ad Nauseam

Chapter Summary: It’s Mary’s first day at school, and it doesn’t go according to plan…

Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words.

Chapter Pairings:  Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So from here on in we dive into the GIFTED main story line so this contains SPOILERS for the film. If you haven’t seen it please be aware of that before you read on. As a Lawyer I know how long the types of cases depicted in GIFTED can take, and I also know how fast they can be too. So for that reason I’ll be spreading the storyline over couple of months, because I find that realistic and it also fits with how I want the story to go so…just roll with it!

This is also HEAVILY Frank’s POV at the moment, as probably most of the next few bits will be but it is a fic about him in the main! As always I’m a ho for a REBLOG and COMMENT!

Chapter Song: The Wind by Cat Stevens

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

September 2017

“Hey! Come on.” Frank sighed, knocking on the door that led into his bedroom where Mary was getting changed “Come on let’s move”

“No” came the sullen reply

“Let me see.” he said a little more gently.

“No.”

“Come on, I made you a special breakfast.” Frank tried again, although why he had no idea. Bribery didn’t work unless it involved a visit to Fliss or the horses.

“You can’t cook.” Mary replied, a snort in her voice. With a deep sigh Frank decided enough was enough.

“Hey, Mary, open up.” his voice was sterner and a few seconds later the door opened and Mary looked up at him. She was dressed in her new red summer dress with a white collar and blue and white flowers patterned all over it. She wore a filthy scowl on her face which Frank was trying really hard not to laugh at.

“You look beautiful.” he told her.

“I look like a Disney character.” She seethed as she stormed past him. Frank watched her pass as the door to the room shut, gave a sigh and then followed her to the kitchen. She sat at the table, pulling the bowl of cereal to her as Frank set about making her lunch.

“Where’s the special?” Mary suddenly said.

“What?” Frank asked, reaching up for a piece of kitchen roll to wipe a knife clean.

“You said you made me a special breakfast.”

Frank leaned over and with his left hand turned the box of Special K round so Mary could see it. She rolled her eyes and made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a growl. Frank ignored her until she spoke again, her voice pleading.

“Please, don’t make me go. You can keep home schooling me.”

“I’ve taught you everything I know” Frank replied, smearing peanut butter onto the bread in front of him.

“But I don’t want to go.”

“Well… I don’t want to go to work, but I do.” Frank shrugged as he fixed the sandwich together and reached for a zip-press bag to place it in.

“You don’t go to work. You fix boats on the dock.”

“Okay, it’s a poor example..” he said, pulling the top of the bag open. “But you are still going.”

“But… but what about Fred?” Mary asked as Frank shimmied the sandwich into the bag and sealed it

“What about him?” Frank sighed

“You won’t take care of him. You don’t like cats.”

Well, she had him there. He really didn’t like cats. But Frank was ok. Frank wasn’t really a cat, he was more of a dog…

“I don’t like two-eyed cats” Frank shrugged in reply “Fred is as you know, monocular.”

“Who’s gonna throw him his ping pong ball?” Mary tried again.

“Fred’s gonna be fine, no more argument, okay?” Frank sighed, looking at her as he pulled another sandwich bag from the box for his own. “We’ve discussed this ad nauseam.”

“What’s an nauseam?” Mary frowned.

“You don’t know?” Frank turned to look at her, leaning against the kitchen unit. “Looks like someone needs school.” Mary looked at him, an utterly filthy scowl on her face and he stared back. She sighed and turned back to her breakfast, hand propping her face up as her elbow rest on the table. Frank stood watching her whilst he threw some bread in the toaster. He felt bad, he really did but this was for the best. She needed to be normal. He felt his phone buzzing in his back pocket and, wiping his hands on his dirty work jeans, he pulled it out, smiling as he read the text from Fliss.

“Good luck with the whole School thing this morning. If she kicks off tell her no riding lesson on Saturday. Give me a call or swing by if you need me xx”

“I don’t need good luck I need a miracle, and a drink. Is 8am on a Monday too early for a beer?” he replied.

“Well, it’s afternoon somewhere in the world Sailor ;-) “

He gave a chuckle as he put his phone back in his pocket and looked at Mary who was watching him, a knowing look on her face.

“What?”

“I know that was Fliss.” she said.

“How?”

“Because you’re smiling, the way you always do when she messages you.” “Well we’re friends…we like talking to one another. Something you might understand after you make some at school…” She scowled at him again and he ignored her looking up at the clock.

“Finish up, it’s nearly time to go.”

With a grumble Mary ate another mouthful before she slid off her chair. Frank packed her lunch into her rucksack  before he handed it to her. With another scowl she place her arms through the straps and then together they walked out of their home.

“Just remember that today, those kids in your class, they probably haven’t learnt even half as much as you.” Frank said, looking at her as they walked down the path. “So try not to show off ok?” “I can’t even use what I do know?” “No I’m not saying that, just…don’t make it so obvious ok? It will make people ask questions about why you know so many things and…” “AM I not supposed to know them?”

“Honestly, no, you’re 7.” Frank shrugged “but you’re smart, you know this.”

She remained quiet for a second before she sighed “Ok, I promise I won’t show off.”

They reach the end of the path and then walked across the grassy area between two of the other pre-fabs just in time for the bus to pull to a stop.

Frank watched Mary as she stood looking at it as the doors swung open.

“This is gonna be fun.” He said, watching the back of her head “You’re gonna meet kids today that you’re gonna borrow money from for the rest of your life.”

She didn’t reply

“Come on.” he said, gently gesturing her forward with his right arm, his tone somewhat softer. He watched her climb up the steps, his hands falling to his hips as he tried to think of something encouraging to say. “You’re gonna be great.”

She paused and looked back at him, her expression soft.

“You know, just…” he gave her a thumbs up “I don’t know. Try bein’ a kid.”

Mary looked down as the school bus doors shut and Frank sighed. He watched her take a seat as the bus pulled off and then turned to head back to the house. He was running through his day in his head, he had a boat he needed to have a look at but didn’t think it was a major fix, few parts that type of thing. He could swing by Sandybrook later on, maybe, see if Fliss was free for an hour for lunch…

There was a rapping on a window and he stopped dead at the end of the path looking up. His eyes locking with Roberta’s as she gazed at him from out of her window. With a sigh of frustration he turned to his left and continued back towards his home another way.

“Frank! Frank, I know you hear me.” He let out an inward groan as he rolled his eyes, ignoring her completely. He walked in the door to his kitchen, shut it and then snapped the lock across to make a point. The point being ‘piss off and leave me alone’. He knew that making the point was, however, pointless because she’d just fucking unlock the door and walk in anyway. Like she always did. He grabbed the toast that had popped up whilst he had been out and threw it on a plate.

“Frank!” There was a juggle of the door handle and he turned to look at Roberta as she pulled out a set of keys.

Ignoring her completely he grabbed a mug and poured some coffee into it.

“There’s still time for you to undo this nonsense. Go get in your car and go get that child.”

“Are you technically allowed to use these keys whenever you want?” He said to her, a little sarcastically as he passed her the mug. She took it from him

“How you can stand there…acting all calm and all of that making light out of this?” she asked as he took a bite of his toast “Now, go get her back before it’s too late.”

“She gotta go out in the world.” Frank said as he began to tidy up the kitchen, placing the breakfast and lunch making items away “She has no friends her age, no social skills. She doesn’t know how to be a kid.”

Roberta merely watched him as he sighed and turned to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. “Two nights ago she told me that even if Germany bails out the Euro, there could still be worldwide recession.” He shook his head “I was staring at the celling for three hours.” he finished softly

Roberta wrinkled her nose a little and looked down at the floor as she shook her head softly. “I’m so worried.” she said gently, her voice cracking and it was then that Frank noticed her eyes were filling with tears. He knew she cared for Mary, she cared for him too even if she showed that less. And he got it, he did, he got exactly what she was worried about because hell, he felt the same. If people spotted Mary’s potential and then started digging it was going to cause a whole heap of ramifications. But he had to balance out the need to keep her ‘talents’ hidden and for her to have a normal life. He saw so many parallels between Mary and Diane, and frankly it scared the shit out of him. His mother had been overbearing, insisted that they were both home schooled, but when their Father had died Frank had rebelled. He’d gone out, fallen in with a  BMX riding, trouble making crowd (well, as much trouble as 8 year olds could make…toilet papering houses, throwing stones at cars, that type of thing)  basically stuck the middle finger up at his mother who had in the end conceded and he’d gone to school. But Diane…well, she’d been smothered and grown up so isolated with no social skills.

No, he couldn’t let that happen to Mary.

He let out a sigh “Come on, Roberta. If you start crying, I will have to pretend to start crying.”

He watched as she nodded sadly.

“Hey.”

She looked up at him as he spoke.

“You know there’s something you could be overlookin’.” he smiled “This could work out.”

“Maybe.” she agreed, with a slight nod and a smile “But if anybody takes that baby away…I’ll smother you in yo sleep.” she warned him, her southern accent becoming stronger as she issued the threat “Morning, Fred.” she said to the cat who was led on the table. His tail swished as she rather viciously grabbed at her keys before she left the house.

With his fucking mug.

The sun was already warm and it wasn’t even 9 when Frank reached the dock, the rays bouncing off the crystal blue surface of the water. As he walked he applied a slight smearing of sunscreen to his neck, he knew that bore the brunt of the sun when he was outside and not in the lock up. Fliss had commented it on it the other day, and he had admitted to her that when he’d gotten out of the shower he had noticed he was definitely sporting some amusing tan lines, both round the collar of his T-shirts and where the arms finished. It was always the same though. Fliss had laughed, rolled up her sleeves to show him the same and pointed out it was why she spent as much time as she could on her days off by the pool trying to even it out.

Lying by the pool on a day off… Frank mused to himself, now there was a thought.

Whilst his mind was on Fliss, he pulled his phone out and dialed her number.

“Hey Frankie boy.” she greeted him “Did you manage to get her on the bus without a gun or…” Frank chuckled “It was surprisingly less trouble than I thought but…”

“You’re doing the right thing Frank.” she replied, and he had to smile at the fact she knew what he was pondering.

“Roberta doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Yeah, well, she’s worried but that doesn’t make her right.” Fliss said “Look, Mary is a kid. She needs to just, oh I dunno, live like a kid. You’ve done it now anyway so, well, just see how it goes, that’s all you can do.”

“Thanks Fliss.” he smiled to himself “Think I just needed to hear that.” “Any time, look I gotta go, my 9 am is here.” “Ok, well, I thought if the invite was open I could swing by at lunch. I’ll grab us a sandwich on the way?”

“Sounds great.” Fliss said, “Just message me later.” “Sure, have a good morning Cowgirl.” She laughed “You too Sailor.”

He tucked the phone back in his pocketed and continued to head down the gangway, nodding to a few people before he hopped onto the white speed-boat he was working on, pulling the dust cover off the stripped down engine.

**** Two hours. It was a whole two hours before he got a phone call telling him to head into the school. He strode back to the house, quickly washed his hands and threw on a blue and red plaid button down over his grubby white t-shirt before he headed to go get the pain-in-the-ass.

After a number of apologies, Frank walked out of the Principal’s office with a groan. Mary skipped ahead of him, examining something in a cabinet but he placedd his hand on her head and turned it in the direction she needed to walk. He pushed oen the double doors, letting her go in front of him.

One hand between her shoulder he steered her away from the entrance to the school and was fishing in his pocket for his keys when he heard a voice behind him.

“Excuse me?”

He turned to see a slim, quite pretty, brunette in a green and white dress hurrying towards him.

“Hi.” she said, raising her hand in greeting.

“Look it’s my teacher.” Mary said with a roll of her eyes as Frank slowed down.  “Probably wants to remind me what one plus one is.”

“Go to the car, okay?” he said, gently guiding her away with his hand.

“Hi” he repeated

“Hi.” Frank replied, removing his glasses and taking her extended hand in greeting.

“Sorry to yell at you and then chase you down.” she apologised.

“It’s okay. Mary’s teacher?” he asked, releasing her hand.

“Yes. I’m Bonnie Stevenson”

“Frank. How are you?” he said, and then before giving her chance to apologise he sighed “Sorry about today. She got little overexcited.” he gestured to the car as Mary climbed in “It’s just first day jitters.”

“Sure, yeah.” Bonnie nodded, turning to look at Mary

“We are running a little bit late actually, so we gotta get going.” Frank said, late for what he had no idea, he hadn’t made that bit up yet.

“Okay, I don’t even wanna talk about that.” Bonnie shook her head “I will keep you just a minute”

“Okay.”

“I think your daughter…I think Mary might be gifted.”

Shit.

“What?” Frank feigned surprise, quite well too so it seemed.

“Yeah, today in math, she answered some really…really…”

“Oh, no, no, no…” he said, holding his hand out to stop her as she was gesticulating rapidly with her own as she continued to speak. “No, that’s…it’s not gifted.”

“Difficult questions that a seven year old would…”

“It’s Trachtenberg.” Frank cut her off easily, he could deflect this.

“I’m sorry…” Bonnie laughed, folding her arms, looking at him, puzzled.

“Jakow Trachtenberg.” Frank nodded. “Spent seven years in a concentration camp. Developed a system to rapidly solve problems.” he gestured with the hand holding his keys “ It’s the Trachtenberg method.”

“But she’s…I mean… She’s seven though.” Bonnie said, smiling slightly, her tone still surprised.

“I learned it when I was eight.” he said, smiling “Do I look gifted to you?”

Bonnie looked him up and down and dropped her head, smiling.

“It kinda went out of note since the invention of the calculator…” Frank continued, backing away from her as he spoke, “But… I can still win a drink at the bar using it.” he smiled, opening his sunglasses out. “Sorry for today. Won’t happen again.”

“Okay.” Bonnie nodded as Frank slid on his shades.

“Nice to meet you…Bonnie.” he said, remembering her name.

“Frank.” Bonnie nodded again.

He drove them home in silence. His only words being an instruction for her to go change into something suitable for an afternoon at the docks before he stepped into the kitchen and remembered his lunch arrangements. With a curse he pulled his phone out and gave Fliss a quick call.

**** Fliss’ morning had been fairly busy as well. She’d given 2 private lessons, worked one of her horses, mucked half the block out as it was a Monday, which meant that Ellis had the day off so she mucked in, and was now going through the bookings for the week. She’d been inundated this week with requests that she couldn’t accommodate, but was contemplating putting another lesson on to satisfy the demand. Bill had told her not to be stupid, she was already teaching 6 days a week and needed to let her staff shoulder some of the responsibility before she burnt out.

“Joanne?” she called. Joanna walked in and looked at Fliss.

“How do you fancy taking over for me completely on a Sunday?” she asked.

“Me?” Joanne frowned.

“Yeah.” Fliss nodded “You open up, close and can run a couple of Classes. You have your teaching qualifications…I can supervise the first 2 weeks or so and if you’re happy after that then…you can take the day completely, take 20% of the earnings as an extra. What do you say?”

“Fliss, I’d…well, I don’t know what to say!” Joanne grinned “Yeah, yeah I’d love to!”

“Good.” Fliss smiled “There’s a list of clients here, you can call back after lunch and offer them a time slot to suit you on Sunday, have a think about a lesson plan for groups and then…” “Thanks Fliss. “ Joanne smiled “This means a lot.” “You’ve earned it.” Fliss smiled “You’ve been a perfect head groom these last 6 months. Keep going and…well, we’ll see where we end up!”

Joanne beamed and nodded, heading back out onto the yard.

Fliss took a deep breath. She had spent so much of her life not in control of her career or home life, doing as she was told by John, when she was told to do it or suffer the consequences of a beating, that she had gone the complete opposite way when she had taken grasp of her own life. Her business was run by her with military precision. Bill did the books for her, but other than that she arranged everything. She was a control freak, she knew that so stepping away 1 day a week might seem like a little step to other people but to her it was a huge one. Bill had reminded her the other night that the idea had been that eventually Fliss would have a manager running the place for her which meant she could turn up to provided lessons and ride when needed. She was a long way off that yet though, but this one day off was a little progress.

Her phone started ringing and she reached over to pick it up, smiling when she saw the number.

“2 calls before noon!” Fliss grinned “I’m honoured”

“Unfortunately I’m calling to cancel lunch.”  Frank sighed.

Fliss was surprised she felt disappointed. “Oh, it’s no issue.” she said, pulling a face “is everything alright.

“No.” he replied bluntly.

“Mary?”

“How did you guess?” he gave a low chuckle.

“She’s normally your source of your trouble. What has she done?”

“Apparently she stood up in class, and shouted at the principal to, and I quote “get on your phone and call Frank and tell him to get me out of here.””

Fliss bit back a laugh. It shouldn’t be funny, but she could picture Mary’s angry face and her arms folded across her chest. Despite her best attempts an amused snort escaped her.

“It’s not funny” Frank deadpanned

“I know, I’m sorry but… “ Fliss cleared he throat, forcing herself to become serious.

“You now I wasn’t a perfect kid but I’m pretty sure I never got thrown out before lunchtime on my first day.” Frank sighed.

“She’s not been thrown out…just told to go home early” Fliss countered

“Well I brushed it off as first day excitement but…the teacher was digging into how smart she is and…”

“Look, try not to worry.” Fliss said, sensing the tone of panic in his voice “Just try talking to Mary You always get the best out of her when you explain things to her.”

“Yeah, look, I better go…I need to get back to the boat yard.”

“No problem. Take care, and…just…well, listen to her Frank.”

“Yeah, bye Fliss.”

Fliss placed her phone down on her desk, and bit her lip. The morning had started off reasonably well too. She knew Frank well enough now to know that his frustration with Mary was born out of simply wanting the absolute best for her, and he was completely focused on making that happen even if Mary was not happy about it.

Fliss tapped her nails absentmindedly on the desk, trying to think of ways she could help. But other than talk to Mary, as she had encouraged Frank to do, she was stumped.

Nope, Fliss didn’t envy Frank one bit.

*****

“For the record, I didn’t wanna go to the stupid school in the first place.”  Mary rambled on as she perched on a cool box, blue sun hat perched on her face as Frank finally finished his work on the engine, screwing the cover back on “And the boy in the front row acts inappropriately for someone who’s a child.”

“Sorry. I’m still passively aggressively ignoring you.” he said without looking up.

“Other kids answer questions, they don’t get in trouble.” Mary continued to protest.

“You didn’t get in trouble for answering the questions.” Frank looked at her, still turning the screw driver, his voice taking on a tone of exasperation. “You yelled at the principal.”

Mary looked at him, shrugging.

“All right, you know what? You’re gonna find this interesting.” he said, stepping back slightly, tossing the screwdriver onto one of the seats as he made his way to the cockpit of the boat “So I googled" first graders who yelled at the principal". And statistically you will never believe how many kids do it.”

He started working his way through the checks as Mary answered

“How many?”

“None.” he shot back over his shoulder as he fired up the boat, revving it slightly. He heard Mary’s footsteps as she ran down the side of the boat and stopped.

“Frank, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” she said leaning over the edge to look at him.

“Yeah, right.” he said, shaking his head before he turned to look at her “You can’t show off like that in school.”

“I know.”

“You promised you wouldn’t then the first day…”

“I know, I screwed up.”

Frank looked at her, he could see she was genuinely contrite. Her head was dropped slightly. He watched her for a moment before he nodded and looked back out of the water before she spoke again.

“Do you think this boat needs a test ride?”

He looked back at her as she grinned up at him, the gap where her two top teeth had fallen out serving as a reminder as to just how young she damned well was. Like he could ever forget that, mind. Frank looked down and shoved his glasses back as they slipped down his nose and with a sigh he gave in, the way he normally did when she pulled those puppy dog eyes on him.

“Go get, Fred.”

She smiled and jumped up.

“Don’t run!” he called after her, watching as she slowed to a walk for a few strides, before running anyway. He shook his head, smiling to himself at her blatant disregard for his order.

She appeared a little while later and Frank got her settled in the seat of the boat with a life vest and a blanket covering her legs, it could get a little nippy on the water for Mary, not that it bothered him.

“Ready?” he asked

She gave him a thumbs up and he pulled the boat out of the spot and headed slowly out of the harbour. Once on the open water he sped up, relishing the feel of the wind in his hair. He felt at peace on the water, something about it soothed his soul. He drove them to a stretch of beach they knew and loved, a quiet one and he drove the boat into the shallow water before he shucked off his shoes and socks, rolled his jeans up and jumped down, pushing it up onto the sand.

“Alright short stack…” he smiled as Mary grinned and stood up. She shucked off her life vest and he lifted her out of the boat before passing Fred over. He hopped back in, grabbed the parasol and a fold out chair, passing her a bucket and spade, all of which he had thrown on the boat whilst she’d headed off to get Fred, before they made their way up the beach.

Mary soon set off, digging about in the sand and collecting shells, like a normal kid her age should do and Frank settled down to watch her, occasionally glancing out into the ocean, spotting every so often the ripple of the resident pod of dolphins as they broke surface lazily. Mary was splashing around in the shallow pools on the beach, Fred by her side before she looked up and came running towards him, jumping on his knee as the birds flew down to inspect what the tide had washed in.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she smiled, shifting around to get comfortable. “Fred loves to watch the sandpipers.”

Fred gave a meow as if to confirm what she was saying and Frank looked down at the cat as it lounged in the shade.

“He thinks he’d like to catch one, but he’d regret it.” she continued “Fred’s not a killer. He’s a lover.”

She gave a sigh and leaned back into him, her back resting against his chest and Frank moved his arms as she took his left hand in both of hers, gently looking at his palm and playing with his fingers.

“Would my mom want me to go to this school?” she asked.

“I can only guess.” Frank replied, honestly “But I will tell you that, she would have wanted you to have friends.”

“Idiot friends?”  Mary said, almost groaning.

“She’d want you to have compassion for others.” Frank said, tilting his head so he was looking down at the side of her face “Like a cat can have for a sandpiper.”

Mary paused and shifted slightly, looking down a little “But what if they don’t like me?” she asked softly.

And God, if that didn’t break his heart! He swallowed and took a moment, before he looked at her.

“Then they’re idiots.” he said simply, and in his mind it was the truth.

Mary didn’t reply, instead she leaned back, her head on his shoulder and Frank gently wrapped his arms further around her, patting her stomach gently. They both sat in silence for a bit, Mary gently tickling the back of his hands with her own. He was just thinking about telling her they really should get back, when he felt her sit up.

“Hey…is that Fliss?”                              

Frank frowned and looked at her, “Where?”

“There, look…” He followed where she was pointing and squinted slightly. There was a woman riding a chestnut horse a little further down the beach, and it certainly looked like Fliss.

“Hang on…” Frank said, pulling out his phone. He dialled Fliss and as he watched he saw the woman pause and reach into her boot to retrieve her phone.

“Hey…” she greeted him.

“Turn to your left…” he said.

There was a pause and then as she did so the two of the waved. Fliss laughed.

“Hang on…”

She placed the phone back in her boot and then kicked the horse into a gallop. It sped over the sand, kicking up spray as it went and Mary giggled and jumped off Frank’s knee as she approached.

“Hi!” she beamed down at them as she pulled the horse to a stop. Frank stood up and smiled at her. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Had to take the speedboat for a test drive.” Frank shrugged.

“Test sail.” Fliss countered.

“Whatever.” Frank rolled his eyes as Mary was busy stroking Heidi’s face. “What about you?”

“Oh had a spare hour so decide to load her majesty up and come down here.” she smiled “It’s nice and quiet. Sometimes I see the dolphins too.” Frank noticed the way her face lit up as she said that, and he smiled.

“They’re even better up close.” Mary grinned.

“Well, one day maybe I’ll get the chance” Fliss smiled.

“I still owe you a ride.” Frank smiled and she grinned.

“I’ll hold you to that…” Fliss said, “And speaking of rides…”

Frank took a deep breath “seriously?”

“Come on…” Fliss said “She’ll be safe, I trust this horse with my life.”

Mary, suddenly realising what was being said looked to Frank, her eyes sparkling.

“Fine…” Frank sighed, shaking his head “But drop her and I’ll kill you.”

“What do you take me for?” Fliss scoffed, removing her hat and handing it to Mary. Once she was seated in front of her Fliss held her tightly, one arm around her waist, the other in the reins and told Mary to hang on. She set off slowly at first and then with a grin kicked the horse on into a slow canter, and steered towards the sea.

“Shit…” Frank muttered, his heart in his mouth as the both cantered through the waves, the spray kicking up behind them. He could hear Mary’s shouting and laughing as it echoed up the beach. They went a little distance away before Katie slowed down to a walk, Heidi continuing along her path steadily.

“So, I hear school wasn’t great?” Katie said as they turned and made their way back at a slower pace.

“No.” Mary shrugged “Frank got mad.”

“Did you apologise?”

“Yeah…its ok now.” Mary shrugged “I just didn’t like it. And I don’t think they liked me.” Fliss took a deep breath. “I’ll tell you a secret…when I first started riding, the other kids didn’t like me either.” “Really?” Mary turned to face her as they wandered back, gently swaying with the horses motions.

“Nope, I came from a different back ground to them. We weren’t rich, I mean my mum and dad have money now but that was only after Bill opened the business.”

“So what happened?” “I kept going.” Fliss said gently “And then I met a friend, a girl called Charlotte. She was the same. Her family sold all their belongings so she could pursue her dream.”

Heidi slowed to a stop by Frank but Fliss continued to talk “And we became good friends, and we worked hard. She did dressage, I did show-jumping. And we both grew up together, and encouraged each other, and we made the teams.”

“Are you still friends now?” “Yeah, I still talk to her, I don’t see her as much but…” Fliss took a deep breath, the thought of the past still a bit painful. “The point is Mary, if you go in thinking that everyone is against you then believe me, it will seem that way. Maybe you should think about having an open mind and giving this a go, yeah?”

Franks eyes were hidden behind his glasses and at that moment he was kind of glad, because for some reason, there was a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes as he had observed his niece and Fliss together, the woman simply talking to Mary.

Mary pondered for a moment before she sighed “I suppose…”

Fliss smiled “Good, you’ll be glad you did.”

Mary shrugged “Maybe. Hey, you know what ad nauseam means?”

Fliss frowned and looked up as Frank gave a laugh “It means indefinitely, never ending…forever, why?” she looked at Mary. “Oh, something Frank said I’d learn at school but I didn’t…” she shrugged “But now I know, thanks.” “You’re welcome…” Fliss chuckled, as Frank helped her down. She watched her run off to pick up her cat.

“Thank you.” Frank said gently, turning to look up at Fliss.

“What for?”

“Talking to her, the way you always do. I don’t know how you do it Lissy, but you make her listen.”

“Don’t worry too much about her.” Fliss smiled “I know it’s easy for me to say but, well you always said today would be a challenge. See how she goes tomorrow.”

Frank smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck before he took a deep breath, suddenly making a decision. “I err, don’t suppose you wanna come for a drink on Friday? I’m only going to Fergs but…”

“I thought Fridays were your nights, you know where you sat at a bar, alone, all broody and mysterious…” Fliss grinned down at him.

Frank shook his head, a crooked smile spreading on his face “Yeah well, maybe I fancy a bit of company this week…”

Fliss looked at him for a moment, considering what he had said before she smiled “Ok, I got lessons until 6:30 but I can meet you there later on?”

Frank smiled “Great, it’s a date.”

Fliss arched her eyebrow and Frank inwardly cursed “I mean, not a date, but…you know, a…”

“You’re cute when you get flustered.” Fliss teased, cutting him off with a laugh “Don’t worry sailor, I know what you mean.”

With that she turned the horse back the way she had come and winking at Frank called to Mary. “Hey, you know when you asked how fast Heidi could go?”

Mary nodded.

“Well watch this…”

And with that Fliss gave the horse a gentle nudge and it erupted into a ridiculously fast gallop back down the beach. Fliss’ whoops echoed in the air as she looked back waving, and Mary ran a little way after her laughing and waving back.

****

Fliss was right. The next morning they had a little fuss but nothing drastic. Mary came home with a note about Wednesday being show and tell and she wanted to take Fred. So they bundled him into a cardboard box. Frank waited patiently outside until Mary was escorted back out by a classroom assistant to hand the cat back over.

“Enjoy that?” he said.

Mary nodded.

“I was talking to Fred.” Frank teased. Mary narrowed her eyes and he laughed.  “I’ll see you later ok?”

She came home a lot happier, talking to him about how the kids had asked her questions about Fred that she had answered and Frank couldn’t help but smile as she rambled on and on. Later, when he called Fliss he couldn’t stop himself from talking either and Fliss had been led on her bed, smiling at his voice as he continued to gush about his niece. Thursday and Friday passed much the same, which was why when Friday night came Frank was in a reasonably good mood, and ready to buy Fliss all the damned beer she wanted.

Fliss, however, was in a flap. Her lesson had overrun and now she had changed her outfit 3 times, finally settling on a light blue cotton knee length, sleeveless dress and brown sandals, leaving her hair loose and her make up light.  She hadn’t been out with her friends for, well, not since moving here. Sure, she’d been out with her parents and their friends but this felt different. And she was nervous.

“You look nice.” Her dad looked up as she walked into their living room. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, you sure you don’t mind dropping me?” she looked at him, “I can get a cab?”

“Don’t be daft…” Bill said, picking up his keys.

“Have a nice time honey!” her mum called.

Bill could tell she was nervous so he made idle chit chat on the drive down to the main strip of bars and eventually pulled up outside Fergs.

“Just have fun.” he said to her gently “And if you need me, call.”

“Thanks dad.” she smiled, kissing his cheek before she let herself out of the range rover and headed into the bar.

She glanced around for a second, looking for Frank and spotted him at a table talking to a dark haired woman, with a pretty face. She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she really wanted to interrupt and was debating running back out to catch Bill when Frank looked up and saw her. Flashing her that smile that could melt her on the spot he waved her over.

“Thought you were gonna stand me up!” he grinned at her as she took a seat. “Sorry, my last lesson over ran.” She answered before she smiled politely at the dark haired woman. “Hi…” “Oh, Fliss this is Bonnie, Mary’s teacher.” Frank introduced them. “Nice to meet you.” Fliss smiled. The woman gave her a smile back and stood up speaking to her as she did so “Well, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time Frank and I don’t want to eat into your date.“ “Oh this isn’t a date…” Fliss protested at the same time Frank shook his head “We’re not…” he gestured between himself and Fliss with his hands “Fliss is Mary’s riding instructor” “She horse rides?” Bonnie said, an air of surprise in her tone. “The idea was it would hopefully teach her social skills before School.” Frank snorted “clearly didn’t work..” “Oh don’t be so hard in her.” Fliss jumped to the girls defence “she’s a good kid.” “I bet its easier when you’re trying to teach them something they actually want to learn…or in Mary’s case teaching her something she doesn’t know….” Bonnie said and Fliss laughed. “She’s actually one of the easier kids I have.” She said and Frank smiled at her comment “mind you, none of the kids give me any hassle really, its the adults that are hard work.”

“Oh my god tell me about it…” Bonnie groaned “I dread Teacher-Parent evenings, honestly, some of them are so obtuse…” “I can imagine.” Fliss grinned

“Anyway I better…” Bonnie gestured over her shoulder “see you later Frank, and nice to meet you Fliss” “You too.” Fliss nodded to he as Frank waved his hand in goodbye.

“What you drinking cowgirl?” he asked, standing up “I’ll go get em in.”

FLiss asked for a beer and sat down as he went to place their order. A frew minutes latger he was back, sliding the bud over to her.

“Thanks…” she took a huge drink. “I err, didnt interrupt anything before did I?“

“No, not really.” Frank shook his head “Not really?” “She errr…found out about Diane.” Frank said. “Oh.” Fliss frowned “how? I mean…” “When I picked Mary up on Monday she was asking me about her background om account of her being so smart. I tried to fob her off, saying I had taught her a system, you know for arithmetic but she didn’t buy it. Apparently she’s been giving Mary a few more advanced equations to do…”

Fliss looked down as he slid the paper on the table over to him. It contained a number of formulas and algebra problems which Fliss could see Mary had completed.

“As you can see, she aced them. And then Bonnie googled the system I mentioned, and then me and…up popped Diane” he shrugged .

“So did you tell her the truth?” Fliss asked looking up at him, sliding the paper back.

“What option did I have” he shrugged, folding it and shoving it in his pocket. “She came down here to call me out so I figured honesty was the best…what?“ He asked when he noticed Fliss was frowning. "She came down here on a Friday night to find you?” Fliss snorted

Frank shrugged “That’s what she said.”

“How she know you’d be here?” ���I’m here most Fridays…not that hard to find.” “Maybe you should think about varying your routine Sailor” Fliss grinned “And you should definitely think about varying this shirt.”

Frank glanced down at his bright yellow palm tree print Hawaiian shirt

“What’s wrong with it?” he pouted.

“What’s right with it more like…”

“Well I’m not one for corporatism.” Frank shrugged “I like to think I’m an individual.”

“To be fair I’m not sure planet Earth could deal with two of you.” Fliss shot back. “I can only just about cope with one…”

Frank paused before he looked at her, shaking his head with a snort as his mouth curled up at one corner “Well that’s just fucking rude.”

“Made you smile though.” Fliss grinned at him.

Frank looked at her for a moment before he felt his face split further into a grin as he looked at her. “Yeah, yeah you do…I mean did.”

He saw her cheeks flush in that adorable way they did, and he decided to save her from further embarrassment by changing the subject. It wasn’t long before they settled into an easy conversation and the events of the previous week and all worries about Mary flew completely from Frank’s mind. @the-omni-princess  @momobaby227 @geekofmanythings16 @angelofhell-666 @thewackywriter @marvelfansworld  @cobalt-gear  @asgardlover75 @jennmurawski13​  @jtargaryen18 @saiyanprincessswanie​  @navispalace​ @patzammit​  @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​ @djeniiscorner​  @ayamenimthiriel​  @coldmuffinbanditshoe​  @disneylovingal​ @madzmilllz​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @southerngracela​ @goldenfightergir​ @kellymat​ @official-and-unstable-satan​ @icanfeelastormbrewing​ @pagesoflauren​

[isabilightwood]

The Problem With Authority - Chapter 2

[1] [AO3]

Jiang Yanli froze at the sound of Jin Guangyao’s voice. She was nowhere near ready to deal with him, much less the knowledge that they were technically married. She — and Qin Su — needed time before she could hope to successfully deceive him.

And she had seconds to figure out how they were going to get it.

She sniffed, loudly, hoping it would seem like she had only been standing there, crying silently. She tucked A-Xian’s notebook into her robes.

“Oh, A-Su, I miss him too.” Jin Guangyao sounded so genuinely sympathetic that she could scarcely tell the difference, even knowing what he’d done. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and it was all Jiang Yanli could do not to flinch.

The way Qin Su was practically screaming in her head did not help. She would be little help, this confrontation coming far too soon.

What would a still ignorant Qin Su have done? Jiang Yanli didn’t yet know her well enough to say.

Jiang Yanli wiped her eyes as she turned in his arms, the skin around her eyes still tinted red from learning about A-Xian. That should help sell the ruse, even against a man so devoted to power he had married his own sister.

“I know,” She lied, sniffling again. “It’s just so hard, being here. I keep getting up to check on him in the night —” she didn’t actually know the name of the boy yet, which could be a problem if Qin Su remained incoherent — “And then I remember.”

“I know how you feel.” He said with a sigh. “I keep thinking it’s time to start teaching A-Song his first core formation exercises.”

“I think — I think I need to get away for a bit.” Jiang Yanli whispered.

“Perhaps that would be for the best.” He began rubbing her back, which made her want to sob. “Were you thinking of somewhere in particular?”

Her first instinct was to say Lotus Pier.

Gusu. The Cloud Recesses. Qin Su managed to say.

Of course. There was a healer there, who specialized in recovery from grief. If she were to go on a retreat for recovery, the Cloud Recesses were the logical place. But — A-Ling was in Yunmeng. Every moment away from him was a physical ache in her chest. How was A-Cheng managing, taking care of her son on his own?

He’s been doing fine raising him half the year for six years. Jiang Wanyin is A-Ling’s favorite.

Oh. Jiang Yanli’s heart swelled. It must be difficult, but A-Cheng was doing wonderfully.

It would seem strange if I went to Yunmeng, Qin Su admitted. Unless you want Jiang Wanyin to know?

Not yet, she had to confess. A-Cheng would be overwhelmingly happy to see her, but he would quickly spirit her away and rush off to reveal the truth. Without a scrap of evidence beyond second-hand testimony. Neither of her brothers had ever been logical, when she was even mildly insulted.

“Gusu,” She didn’t have to fake the choked sound of her voice. How long would it be before she could confirm with her own eyes that her son and her baby brother were alive and well?

Jiang Wanyin has A-Ling for the summer, about three more months.

An eternity.

Jin Guangyao’s smile wavered.

A- Lianfang-zun, Qin Su corrected herself, thinks I don’t know, but I noticed him pining after Zewu-jun long before we married. Zewu-jun was here for a week, after A-song — She broke off. He saw more of my so-called husband than I did.

“Why don’t you invite your erge back for a few days while I’m gone?” She suggested. “I know you’re busy, but perhaps he could spare a few days?”

“Thank you, A-Su, that’s very thoughtful.” His smile returned, only now she thought it might be genuine. “I could arrange for you to leave as soon as tomorrow, if that pleases you.”

“Yes,” She said quietly. “I would like that.”

As it turned out, Gusu Lan’s mind healer was useful to both of them for more than merely an excuse.

She had not known what to expect from a healer who specialized in injuries that could not be seen, but it was not Tan Wurui. He was a young man with round, expressive features who wore the plain forehead ribbon of outer disciples.

When he began their first meeting by offering her huamei, Jiang Yanli decided she liked him. Candy was against the rules, outside of festivals, but preserved plums were technically medicinal. She took one, with a carefully weak smile.

Sitting back on her heels, she tried to place why Tan-daifu looked familiar. Finally, she realized. They had been classmates, once. He had lived a few doors down from Jiang Yanli when she was a guest disciple, so he must have transitioned after her stay. He had been friendly and helpful, more likely to correct rules violations than to report them.

“Eat that if you need a moment to gather your thoughts, or you’re starting to feel overwhelmed.” He plucked a plum of his own from the bowl, rolling it between his fingers. “Now, to start, is this the first time you’ve dealt with loss?”

The answer for Jiang Yanli was no, of course. Grief had become almost a familiar friend, since her parents were killed. Yet it had stabbed her in the back as surely as the sword that killed her pierced her heart.

Her loss was different from Qin Su’s. Jiang Yanli’s son was still alive, if out of reach and grown from an infant to a boy in an instant. But she had not had the chance to mourn her husband when A-Xian was stolen as well.

She had no idea, however, whether Qin Su had. And Qin Su wasn’t sharing.

While Tan-daifu waited patiently for an answer that should have been easy.

Jiang Yanli prodded with mental fingers until Qin Su gave up the answer. My mother. But she was… it wasn’t the same.

“No,” She said aloud. “But not like this.”

Tan-daifu nodded. “Are you ready to talk about what happened?”

Qin Su had curled up in her mind since the conversation with Jin Guangyao. Unfurling slowly in fits and starts, only to shrink back at the wrong reminder. As she did then.

Jiang Yanli nibbled at her plum, the spiced sweet and sour flavor spreading across her tongue. As though in response to the flavor, Qin Su startled, cautiously peering out from her ball.

“I thought you might not be.” He offered her a serene smile. “For now, why don’t we discuss how you’ve been coping, and what your goals are in coming here.”

Jiang Yanli conjured descriptions of how she thought the courtiers of Lanling would have treated her, had she lived. It wasn’t difficult to imagine, considering how they had ingratiated themselves when she wasn’t vulnerable. Qin Su confirmed her suspicions, and added on, They wouldn’t let me do anything.

“I felt like I was drowning in Koi Tower.” She concluded. “I haven’t stopped feeling that way. However, there’s… less of him, here.”

Less of Qin Su’s A-Song, and less positive memories of A-Xuan, but more of A-Xian. Happy ones. The last time she could remember him being truly, uncomplicatedly happy.

“Locations can become heavily associated with certain people, or events. If coming here helps you feel a little closer to air, it was the right decision.” Tan-daifu said. “It sounds like you were trapped with your grief, through inactivity. You have not kept up even basic exercises with your sword?”

“The healers in Lanling told me I should refrain from using my spiritual energy.” She said carefully. While in the Cloud Recesses, Jiang Yanli needed to begin learning to use Qin Su’s sword. While Qin Su might not be renowned for her skills like the heroes of the Sunshot Campaign, she was known to be competent. Jiang Yanli could not avoid it forever, when Qin Su trained the disciples.

“Though Lanling Jin’s healers have released a number of revolutionary medicinal treatments recently, they have not yet understood the relationship between the mind and qi.” Though Tan-daifu kept his voice steady, he was no Lan Wangji. A tick in his cheek betrayed his disdain. “Excessive use while recovering could cause a qi deviation. However, light exercise helps rejuvenate the mind and keeps your body healthy and qi balanced.”

With Tan-daifu’s permission, Jiang Yanli was able to practice the Jin sword forms in the private courtyard of her guest house every morning. Twice a week, she met with him. Most of her time, however, was left to her own discretion.

Once Jiang Yanli adjusted to Qin Su’s body, she found that much of her skill had carried over into muscle memory. It was simply a matter of practicing until her mind adjusted to her body’s knowledge.

Cultivation, however, was far more complicated. Cultivation was linked to the spirit, not the physical body, and so Qin Su had to teach her, step by step, skills that junior disciples learned the year they received their swords.

She could not show her by doing. Though Jiang Yanli attempted to retreat within her mind, and allow Qin Su to take control of her own limbs, it seemed Jiang Yanli was firmly rooted within the body they now shared.

Qin Su wasn’t. If she strained, she could reach outward until, for an instant, look down and see her body from above before snapping back inside.

The teaching seemed to help Qin Su more than anything.

Why did no one teach you this? She snapped in exasperation, as Jiang Yanli struggled through the steps of directing her spiritual energy for donation. It was the strongest reaction she’d prompted in weeks.

I didn’t have enough to spare. My parents planned to send me to Dafan, to develop my core without the physical aspect. But by the time I was old enough, the sect had become an ordinary village. No other sect had similar techniques, so she’d had to rely on meditation, talismans, and her brothers.

Oh. You do now. From then on, Qin Su latched onto the teaching like a project. If it did not to make her less sad, it at least made her more responsive.

That would have been enough to keep them busy, but it was critical that Jiang Yanli memorize the changes in the Cultivation world. If she said the wrong thing to a sect leader, or Jin Guangyao, that would be the end. She read through the piles of official documents in the library, with more subjective commentary from Qin Su.

They started with the greatest risk: Qin Su’s family.

Father spoils me, but he still sees me as his baby girl. Jie — Qin Xifeng, the heir — was always busy. It’s Yi-ge we have to worry about. Qin Su explained, as she looked over records of how Laoling Qin’s trade had grown and alliances shifted after their Second Young Mistress became Jin-furen.

Ironically, Qin Xifeng was the only member of the Qin clan Jiang Yanli had met before, when she accompanied A-Xuan to the Sunshot Campaign. She’d found it funny, in retrospect, how awkwardly A-Xuan had interacted with her, considering none of his few close companions were men.

An ache rose in her chest as she remembered teasing him about it, on the night of his cousin Jin Huiqing’s wedding to Sect Leader Hua. Though distantly related, they were his favorite relative. A letter from Luo Qingyang had arrived the same day. Zixuan flushed prettily, and told her that was different. He hadn’t been able to think clearly, through the things Jiang Yanli did to his heart.

She’d grabbed the restraints and climbed on top of him, proceeding to reward her husband for being such a silly romantic. Zixuan had been certain that was the night A-Ling was conceived.

She missed him with her entire being.

Uh. Yanli-jie. Qin Su sounded pained. That’s my half-brother.

She winced. Given Qin Su’s history, that had to be much worse than the time Jiang Yanli had accidentally found A-Xian’s poorly concealed stash. Especially considering how unconventional their sex life had been. Sorry. I’ll work on trying to shield some of my thoughts from you.

Qin Su quickly returned to the original topic. Yi-ge is only a year older than me, so we’ve always been close. He’s been busy setting up the Laoling watchtowers lately, so hopefully we can avoid him until you’re better at acting like me.

Am I that bad? She asked.

Not for most people. But I’m his baby sister, and you’ve always been the eldest.

Jiang Yanli could see how that might be a problem. Are you more ‘A-Su is three’ or ‘go away Ge, no wait, play with me?’

Shock flared from Qin Su. Neither! I just whine a little and he pretends he’s going to say no. What are your brothers?

Damaged. While A-Cheng postured and yelled and hid how much he cared, A-Xian crafted a mask of harmlessness, hiding what he needed. Just as Jiang Yanli had. They hadn’t had much choice.

Qin Su’s silence was its own response.

From there, they moved on to other sects.

So the Luo Sect has climbed back into favor? Though Luo Qingyang had joined the Jin Sect in her youth, as was sometimes done to protect the heir of a minor sect against rivalry, her outspoken support of A-Xian and departure had driven her birth sect to retreat from Lanling. As a result, Jiang Yanli had never met Mianmian’s uncle or cousin, and so had no measure of their character.

The Sect heir is very… earnest. Lianfang-zun likes to surround himself with simple men. I used to think it was because they didn’t poke fun at his heritage. Her more recent conclusions were left unspoken.

Other changes were more startling. Not only had Tingshan He been absorbed into Lanling itself, but there were thirteen sects jostling for territory in former Qishan, most of them vassals to the Jin . Which made sense, as most of the sects had originated as single-town cultivation clans within Lanling. The Jin had been the only sect with cultivators to spare, and taken advantage of the opening.

Sects had only been beginning to spring up in Qishan when she died. Now, they were fully formed, squabbling and jostling for influence.

There was a seemingly endless amount of ground to cover, in the weeks in Gusu.

It surprised her, how little she saw of the main branch of the Lan Clan. During her last stay, she could not have thrown a stone without hitting one.

She had spoken with Lan Qiren only once, upon her arrival. He’d harrumphed and bid her the necessary welcome, and proceeded to ignore her existence. That suited her well enough.

Though Zewu-jun had been expected to return from Lanling a week into her stay, he had been called away to deal with a crisis for Nie Huaisang. That was another shock, Nie Huaisang as sect leader. A-Xian would have laughed himself silly. A-Cheng must be going spare.

Lan Xichen’s continued absence was fortunate. He, unlike any other Lan, knew Qin Su. Enough that he might notice a misstep.

It was Lan Wangji’s absence that concerned her.

If there was anyone who might have mourned A-Xian, it was Lan Wangji, but he was nowhere to be found. Not at meals, and not along the paths of the Cloud Recesses.

Hanguang-jun often travels these days, I’ve heard. Qin Su informed her, with an undertone of surprised curiosity. So he really was in love with Wei Wuxian?

They loved each other. Jiang Yanli had known long before either of them.

It was a shock, the one time she did see Lan Wangji.

On the afternoon Qin Su was ready to discuss her loss, Jiang Yanli knelt on the cushions across from Tan-daifu’s desk, a cup of perfectly brewed tea cooling before her. The usual bowl of plums sat between them.

Tan-daifu smiled pleasantly, waiting for her to begin. And Qin Su froze up.

“Perhaps if we take a walk?” Tan-daifu suggested, when she said nothing.

Tan-daifu led her to the back trails, along the river where Jiang Yanli’s breathing had once faltered as she searched for her brother, and A-Xuan caught her as she fell.

At least this time that’s romantic. Qin Su grumbled, the first thing she’d said since they entered Tan-daifu’s office.

Not really. She remembered how he’d left her behind, the harsh words he’d said.

They tell that story like you were star-crossed lovers kept apart by the Yiling Patriarch. But really, your husband was just being an idiot.

A-Xian punched some sense into him. Remembering the soup incident, she added, Twice.

After a pause, Qin Su hesitantly said, I think I’m ready to talk now.

The words poured from her like a dam had broken.

Jiang Yanli recounted Qin Su’s words verbatim, how she left for a meeting after putting A-Song to bed. How she was accosted the moment she entered the Fragrance Hall on her return. How she fought, desperately, to reach her son, even after receiving a gut wound. How Jin Guangyao arrived with guards, and she finally made it through. How she saw the body of the nursemaid first, sprawled in a pool of blood, and crumbled into denial when she realized her son wasn’t breathing. How she’d had to be sedated to receive treatment for her wound, and refused to believe it for days after.

The words tapered off, and stopped. Jiang Yanli took a plum from the bag Tan-daifu offered her, and popped one in her mouth.

The rest of it could not be shared. But to her surprise, Qin Su did not retreat entirely. She shrank back, but did not become unreachable.

“Thank you, for sharing.” Tan-daifu said. “Sometimes it helps, but only when you’re ready.”

His understanding silence was a pleasant relief.

On the way back, they came across a boy playing in a field of snow-white rabbits. Jiang Yanli stopped, watching with a longing that was not only hers.

She wondered if A-Ling liked rabbits, or if his jiujiu had allowed him to have a dog, as was a more traditional spiritual animal for a young heir.

Jin Guangyao has wanted to give A-Ling a spiritual dog for some time, but Jiang-zongzhu keeps saying no. No one knows why. Qin Su mused.

Oh, A-Cheng. He must be so lonely. Still keeping dogs out of Lotus Pier, as though A-Xian might come wandering back one day.

(And might he not? A part of her whispered, the thought too fleeting for Qin Su to pick up.)

Though she had no doubt A-Cheng had the loyalty of his sect, that the disciples he’d trained loved him and would die for him, he had never learned that letting someone in wasn’t weakness. Without A-Xian, without her…

She wished there was a way she could tell him he wasn’t alone, to hold A-Cheng and A-Ling in her arms, without risking Jin Guangyao piecing together the truth.

She must have made a noise, because Tan-daifu looked at her in concern, and the boy looked up. He set down the rabbit in his lap, and shooed away the others surrounding him with gentle, practiced gestures. Getting to his feet, the boy burst into a run.

When he reached them, he bowed. A model Lan, were it not for the blades of grass clinging to his robes. He was about ten, she thought, if a little short for his age. The cloud embroidery on his ribbon marked him as a member of the main clan. “Daifu! Are you here to play with the rabbits?”

So Lans aren’t born knowing all the rules, after all. Qin Su observed. I thought there might be truth to that rumor.

It was a good thing Jiang Yanli was already smiling.

“Not today,” Tan-daifu said. “Our little radish has already taken good care of them, I’m sure.”

The boy scrunched up his nose, and Jiang Yanli could have sworn it was identical to A-Xian’s. “I’m not a little radish anymore! And the rabbits always want more ear scratches. Will you play with the rabbits, guniang? They always make Fuqin happier when he’s sad, like you are.”

“I-” How insightful. His eyes were wide and pleading, the look of a boy practiced at getting what he wanted by convincing an adult it had been their idea. She would have caved, easily, if a man in white had not come running. He came to a stop, panting, by the boy’s side.

Panting, running, the collar of his robes out of place and his guan tilted out of center. Lan Wangji seemed so little like himself, and yet was unmistakable.

All in white, Jiang Yanli thought with a pang. He still misses him.

“Fuqin!” The boy cried happily, bouncing to grasp Lan Wangji’s leg.

Did you know Hanguang-jun had a son? She asked.

I had no idea. Qin Su was as shocked as she was.

“A-Yuan.” Hanguang-jun stooped to pick him up, a grimace crossing his face as he stood, though he should have been able to lift Lan Yuan with ease. “We have spoken about talking to strangers.”

There was open panic in his eyes, as he glanced at her. She’d seen that look before, when A-Xian was in danger, but never directed at her.

No. Not at Jiang Yanli, but at Madame Jin.

“Put me down! Bobo said you shouldn’t try to lift me anymore.” Lan Yuan squirmed, and was back on his feet. Strange, she didn’t think Lan Wangji had let him go. “And Tan-daifu is here! I wasn’t unsupervised.”

Lan Wangji glanced at her again, his expression back to its habitual blankness. But his distress remained almost tangible.

She bowed. “Hanguang-jun.”

He looked away sharply, taking his son’s hand. “Let us go. It is time for your guqin lesson.”

“Mn!” Lan Yuan hummed eagerly, allowing his father to lead him away, and began chattering about the rabbits. “I think Xiao Yun is going to have babies soon!’

As they walked away, she noted that Lan Wangji’s movements were slightly stiff. A far cry from the graceful Hanguang-jun she’d often glimpsed from afar, fighting back-to-back with A-Xian.

“My most sincere apologies, Jin-furen.” Tan-daifu turned to her and bowed. Before she could ask what for, he continued. “Lan Sizhui was adopted. Hanguang-jun is very protective.”

“I see.” She replied slowly, as her mind linked together implications at the rate A-Xian had jumped from idea to idea.

A boy named A-Yuan, adopted by Lan Wangji. Whose safety he worried about, even in his own home. She couldn’t help a smile, though it made Tan-daifu look at her strangely. It was good to know that one of those A-Xian tried to help had made it.

There was a child in the Burial Mounds? Qin Su was aghast.

Jiang Yanli allowed the recollection of her visit to Yiling to explain as she turned to Tan-daifu. “Is Hanguang-jun injured?”

“Ah.” Tan-daifu stared of down the path, his expression somewhere between regret and wistfulness. “It was brave of you to ask for help. Many do not, even here.”

Only a few days after her encounter with Lan Wangji, Jiang Yanli returned to Lanling. Though Qin Su would have benefited from more time with Tan-daifu, there was little more they could do from afar. The key to removing Jin Guangyao from his position was evidence. The only evidence she would find in the Cloud Recesses was gossip — and Lans did gossip, if less openly — about how frequently he bowed just so Zewu-jun would hold his hands.

Even Jin Guangyao had to slip up sometimes, as he had the day Qin Su learned the truth. Overheard conversations that lead to witnesses or evidence left by a less careful collaborator.

Upon her arrival, Jiang Yanli sent an invitation to Jin Guangyao for tea before she had so much as unpacked.

“I am pleased to see you looking so much better.” He dimpled, but without the usual eager-to-please act. Because he had no reason to think he needed to ingratiate himself with his wife. Or perhaps he was merely too exhausted, the dark purple bags under his eyes the only sign something was off.

“You still look tired, A-Yao.” Jiang Yanli held her sleeve out of the way to pour cups of scalding hot tea. “Was Zewu-jun called away too soon.?”

“Ah.” He demurred, tapping the side of his cup to test the temperature. “I am still having difficulty with a few holdouts. Our vassals have largely fallen into line, save Zhai Qiaoling,” Sect leader of the Baota Zhai, one of the westernmost sects that had formed out of Qishan, “But most of the independent sects are still resistant. My cousin has not yet convinced Hua-zongzhu, even.”

Sympathy for the loss of a child seemed to have worked wonders on the gentry’s approval. But not as much as he’d hoped, it seemed.

Good. That could only make the bait more tempting.

Jin Guangyao’s lips thinned into a flat line. “Apologies, my troubles should not interrupt your recovery.”

Jiang Yanli shook her head. “Actually, I wanted to speak to you about something related. About my role in the future.”

“Oh? If you need more time away, I would understand.” He took a sip of now-drinkable tea.

“It’s not that. In fact, I will go mad if I remain idle any longer.” She stroked the side of her teacup, a nervous gesture of Qin Su’s. “However, there is one duty I’m afraid I cannot fulfill.”

Jin Guangyao took her hand in his. Jiang Yanli did not snatch it back, though her skin crawled. “Please, A-Su. What is it?”

“I couldn’t bear to have another child.” She cast her eyes downward, blinking rapidly, as though to prevent tears from falling. Real tears would have been better, but anticipation was currently stronger than grief.

His shoulders fell as he exhaled heavily. Jiang Yanli read it for what it was: relief.

An innocent wife would not have. She snatched her hand back, to twist them together in her lap. “We have A-Ling to inherit, but I would understand if you want to take a second wife.”

“A-Su—”

She met his eyes, speaking more firmly, with a touch of irritation. “Please don’t insult me by implying I have not noticed you value my company, but not my body.”

“I would never.” Jin Guangyao tossed back his entire cup of tea at once.

Taking a smaller sip, she struck. “Or if you wanted to act on your feelings for Zewu-jun.”

He choked on his swallow, and Qin Su snickered. I’ve never seen him this off-balance. Not even when his father suggested he take remedial cultivation classes with the ten-year-old disciples. Keep going, this is amazing.

Jiang Yanli gently reminded her that the goal today was not to humiliate Jin Guangyao, merely to hand him a distraction in the form of the things he most desired. Nevertheless, she tamped down a rebellious corner of her mouth as she offered him a handkerchief. Jin Guangyao coughed into it, struggling to regain his composure.

“How did you —” His dimples twitched as he broke off, briefly at a loss for words. “Furen, I have been faithful to you. I am not my father.”

No, he was an entirely different kind of terrible.

“I’ve never doubted that. However, I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you look at each other.” She smiled, reaching for his hand again. This time, he jerked back. “Please, A-Yao. I understand you have feelings for him. A discrete affair with one man, with your wife’s permission, would not be the same as your father’s promiscuity.”

“You really wouldn’t mind?” Jin Guangyao looked at her like she was offering him ascension, but he didn’t trust the offer. He was right not to, but he would take it anyway.

“I wouldn’t.” And that, at least, was true. “I find I have little interest in such things these days, but I respect that you do.”

He let out a heavy sigh, and closed his eyes, simply breathing for a moment. When his eyes opened, he gave a tremulous smile. “If you’re certain, thank you, A-Su. I will speak to him when he visits for the conference next month, then.”

“Speaking of the conference, I would like to be more involved in your projects, if you would be willing.”

“Really?” His mouth hung open, his eyes wide.

It thrilled them both, to know Jiang Yanli had managed to catch him off guard. Not once, but twice in the same conversation. “Your watchtowers are brilliant, and perhaps I could help to smooth the way. Not through public recognition,” she rushed to assure him. “But I am good with finance, and certain sects might be more interested to know  that Lanling’s income took a hit in your father’s final years, but has already recovered under your guidance if I am the one telling them. I believe Ran-zongzhu has been struggling to recover income from several years of bad harvests?”

“That —” His jaw worked, soundlessly, before he grinned. “That would be wonderful, A-Su.”

I didn’t know his face could do that. Qin Su said giddily. Maybe we can pull this off.

Jiang Yanli smiled sweetly back, her own mask impeccable.

[fortune-fool02]

Steel Ball Roommates

Episode One - Lessons on Cooking

With Hot Pants in bed sick from the Flu, Gyro, Johnny and Diego took it upon themselves to cook breakfast. 

Author’s note: Please, give credit to @ymisiposts for helping with this series. Please, feedback is highly appreciated and thank you for reading this. Please enjoy.

***

Gyro held the cooking book in his hands, reading over the instructions and glancing at the ingredients he had gathered to make sure he had got it. Normally Gyro wasn’t the one who cooked breakfast as it was Hot Pant’s job -as she could make the best meals without even trying- but the woman was riddled with a case of the Flu; leaving the boys to cook for themselves.

 It couldn’t be that hard, right? Gyro has watched enough cooking shows to have a basic idea of how to cook. He picked up the milk and poured it into the plastic jug, measuring it out the best he could and putting it in the mixing bowel. He then reached for the small bag of flour, he tried to open it and was greeted with a small cloud of flour in his face. 

A chuckle caught his attention, “You’ve got a bit of flour on your face, Gyro.” Diego commented, walking past the light-haired Italian and over to the kettle. Gyro threw the blonde man a look before wiping the flour from his face, 

“Mornin’ to you too, Diego.” Gyro turned back to the cooking and measured out the flour whilst Diego made himself a cup of coffee. A confused hum was heard from the blonde, 

“Where’s the milk?” As a rule, Diego never drank coffee without milk. He found it disgusting how Gyro and Johnny could drink their coffee without milk, the sight of the black liquid made him cringe. Gyro held up an empty carton in his hand, 

“I used it up.” In truth, Gyro may or may not have added more milk than he thought necessary due to misreading the measurements but Diego didn’t need to know that. Diego held his cup of partially made coffee in his usual cup. The brand logo of Jurassic Park decorated around the cup; it was originally bought for a laugh but Diego found himself using the cup far more than he believed he would. 

“How am I supposed to drink my coffee with no milk?” Gyro rolled his eyes at that. 

“Go and buy some. The shop’s only down the street.” Diego coughed into his hand in that sarcastic tone, motioning to his pyjamas that were, like his cup, dinosaur themed. Gyro reacted by motioning to all the ingredients, mimicking Diego’s action. “As you can see, I’m a little busy.” 

The mixing bowel was filled with a lumpy batter that was painful to look at for Diego. “I thought you Italians were supposed to be good at cooking.” The smirk on Diego’s lips made Gyro want to do nothing more than grab the bowel of batter and throw it at his face, hoping that it was get in his hair and ruin it. But he didn’t as they didn’t have any more milk and he didn’t want to go buy some himself. 

“Well, you’re not Gordon Ramsey. Remember last Thursday?” Last Thursday was a bundle of problems mainly involving Diego spilling oil onto the hob and setting it on fire. Luckily, Hot Pants was able to use the fire extinguisher before the fire spread too far and saved anything from sever damage. 

Diego narrowed his eyes, glaring at the light-hared man for mentioning it. Sure, it wasn’t his finest moment but he is more than certain Gyro’s cooking skills were less than his. Gyro turned back to the mixing bowel and grabbed the carton of eggs when the sound of his phone ringing was heard. 

“Crap, could you add two eggs whilst I get that?” Before Diego had a chance to reject that, Gyro was off. With a sigh and a quiet rumble of his stomach, Diego walked over and picked up one of the eggs. Carefully, he tapped the egg against the rim of the bowl to crack it. He tapped a bit harder and got nothing. Adding a bit more force caused the egg to practically explode in his hand, getting the whites over the counter, on his shirt and his face; everywhere but the mixing bowel. 

“Wrryy.” the blonde growled, aggressively grabbing a kitchen towel and cleaning the whites off his face. This was one of his favourite shirts too, dammit. 

“Whoa, what tornado came through here?” Diego glanced up to see Johnny standing there, leaning some of his weight onto his crutch as he looked around. Diego scoffed a little, throwing the towel down. His patience was far lower without the soothing taste of coffee to wake him up and he was not ready to face the day without at least one cup; with milk in it, of course. 

“Ask Gyro.” Johnny laughed a little as he walked over to the mess on the counter, grabbing the whisk and attempting to save the egg shells that fell into the batter and succeeding. Out of the three of them, it was safe to say that Johnny did have more skills for cooking than the other two -no where near as Hot Pant’s level but he knew the basics. 

“Here, let me finish off the batter.” 

After a couple of minutes of trying to smoothen the batter, Johnny was able to rescue the batter and save them the awfulness of having to eat lumpy pancakes. But now came the next challenge: cooking said pancakes. 

With his condition, Johnny didn’t want to attempt to flip the pancakes and -since last Thursday- Diego was not to be trusted with the stove, leaving Gyro the only one who could do it. Wherever he had run off to. 

Diego decided to go look for the Italian only to find him longing on the couch, laughing as he watched a children’s cartoon. His phone on the table in front of him. “I thought you had a phone call to answer.” Diego folded his arms over his chest, tapping his foot in a quick paced manner as flecks of annoyance began to peel away at him. Gyro looked up, 

“I did. I missed it and waiting for them to call back.” What part of that sentence did Gyro expect Diego to believe? Grabbing Gyro by his shirt, Diego began to drag him back into the kitchen, ignoring the protests along the way. “Wait, Tom and Jerry’s coming back on!” 

“Cook our breakfast first.” With a huff, Gyro walked over to the pan and poured some of the batter in, not bothering to put any oil in it first. Johnny noticed this, 

“Aren’t you supposed to put oil in the pan first?” he pointed at the pan, Gyro shrugged his shoulders at that. Hot Pants probably used it for flavour or something, he doubted it was important. Oh, how wrong was he. 

When Gyro tried to flip the pancake, it didn’t move. He grabbed a spatula and tried to free it, ripping the half-cooked pancake and earning a disappointed sigh from Diego; which the Italian ignored as his attention was more focused on the burning smell coming from the pan. The spatula scraped loudly against the pan, creating a teeth-gritting sound, but Gyro refused to give up, not until the burning pancake was freed from the pan. 

“This is why you use oil in the pan, you absolute idiot.” Diego growled, watching the smoke begin to rise from the pan. Thank God they forgot to put the batteries in the smoke alarm or else it would have been going off for the past few minutes. 

“Gyro, it’s on fire! The pan’s on fire!” Johnny shouted as the pancake ignited itself, causing the Italian male to panic as well. Diego stood there, shouting for him to throw it in the sink or, at the very least, take it off the damns stove. 

As Gyro panicked, foam suddenly sprayed over the pan, covering his arm along with the stove. Once the fire was extinguished, all eyes turned to the source to see Hot Pants standing there in her pyjamas, hair a ruffled mess with bags draping under her eyes. The image of tiredness, the kind of tiredness someone was when they were sick. 

She set the fire extinguisher down and shifted her eyes from the three males to the mess on the side, pointing at it she looked at them. “Clean that up. Eat some cereal. And shut up.” With that, she turned on her heel and dragged herself back to her room.

A silence hung in the air for a moment before Gyro spoke, “We don’t have any milk.” 

[cyborgsquirrel]

Sanctuary: Chapter 24

Pairing: Wolfstar

Summary: The epic tale of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, from their first meeting until their happily ever after.

Link to Prologue

Link to All Chapters

Link to story on AO3

Friday, 17th December 1971, 6:00 pm Two hours after James left the note for Dumbledore, Remus and the other Marauders took their seats in the Great Hall. James was still pouting about his pink robes, but the anticipation of the event to come seemed to take the edge off his bad mood. Though, he kept scowling at Sirius, which was entertaining. James refused to believe that Remus had anything to do with it.

The noise level was deafening, the students were in high spirits with the end of term and the excitement of presents to come, but it had been two weeks since the full moon, so his ears weren't as sensitive as they had been at Halloween. He might actually be able to enjoy himself. Hagrid had outdone himself with the decorations. Twelve enormous Christmas trees adorned the Great Hall--thankfully there was still plenty of room for their ice sculptures--and mistletoe and holly were spread throughout the castle. Professor Flitwick had enchanted the suits of armour to sing Christmas carols. James and Sirius had asked him if he could work out how to change the words, but he hadn't tried very hard at that assignment before informing them he couldn't do it. He'd been concerned about what words they might choose instead. When Dumbledore entered and took his seat, they all watched him closely. He raised an eyebrow when he spotted the note, and they saw him pick it up and open it. A few moments passed as he read before he smiled and glanced out at the students, giving a very tiny nod. He would do it. As the Feast wore on his friends became more and more jittery. By the time dessert appeared, they were balls of nervous energy. 'Will you three calm down, you're going to give us away,' Remus whispered, leaning across the table. 'What if we messed something up?' Peter said. Remus shook his head. 'We didn't. Everything will go according to plan. You know how much we practised. Stop worrying.' When everyone was finished with dessert and the tables were cleaned of dishes, Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat. Throughout the hall, heads turned to look at him and silence fell. 'Now that we are all fed and watered, I have a few end-of-term notices. The train will leave Hogsmeade station at eleven o'clock. Everyone who is going home for the holidays, and those that wish to see them off, must be ready in the Entrance Hall at ten. The return train will leave Kings Cross at eleven o'clock on Saturday, the first.' He paused and picked up the Marauders note from the table. 'I have also received a mysterious note. It's from the people who call themselves the Hogwarts Marauders---' Dumbledore was interrupted by cheering, foot-stamping and hooting. He calmly waited for the students to settle down before he continued. 'I will read it to you: Dear Professor Dumbledore. We have prepared an evening of revelry as a Christmas gift to the school. We did not wish to interrupt the delicious feast, so lovingly crafted by our beloved house-elves, and so we ask if you would kindly begin the evening's festivities at the appropriate time. Before you say the phrase at the bottom of this note, please ask all the students to gather in the middle of the room. We assure you that we have accounted for every safety precaution.' Professor Dumbledore looked up from the note. 'And then they've signed it, lots of love and a Happy Christmas from The Hogwarts Marauders. Isn't that sweet?' The hall erupted with laughter. James looked at him and Sirius, aghast. 'We didn't write "lots of love," did we?' 'No,' Sirius said, laughing. 'He's trying to embarrass us.' Remus chuckled. 'Sneaky. He'll have to try harder than that to figure out who we are.' 'So, if you could all follow the instructions and gather in the middle of the room,' Dumbledore said when the noise had died down. When everyone was in position, Dumbledore clapped his hands together and said in a booming voice, 'Let's get this party started, my dudes!' The Marauders--along with most of the students--burst out laughing. They had only written, "let's get this party started." Dumbledore was such a good sport. The first thing to happen was three enormous bowls of water and four crystal balls appearing on each of the House tables. The students all glanced at each other, confused. The bowls, ever so slowly, floated into the air and to the edges of the room, landing gently and not spilling a single drop of water. The crystal balls soared up high until they were near the ceiling. They began to spin fast and coloured lights blazed to life inside them, sending moving, multi-coloured rays spinning and darting around the room. Next, the water in the bowls rose into the air, twisting itself into different shapes as it changed colour, and hardened to ice. There were three crimson and gold lions, three blue and bronze eagles, three yellow and black badgers and three green and silver snakes, all in different poses. With their burdens lifted, the House tables moved themselves to the edges of the room. Once in place, they filled with an array of finger foods and large bowls of fruit punch. The floor changed, beginning in the corners of the room and sweeping towards the centre to meet in the middle, under the feet of the watching students. The bare stone became a shining wooden dance floor. As warm, dry, enchanted snow started falling from the ceiling--appearing multi-coloured as the individual flakes were caught in the strobe lights from the spinning crystal balls--loud, thrumming music echoed from the surrounding walls. Everyone waited a moment to make sure the changes were finished, before breaking out in a round of applause and spreading out to explore. Remus looked around. Everyone was smiling, some were already dancing to the music, others were admiring the ice sculptures. Still more were helping themselves to fruit punch. The teachers were milling about, keeping an eye on everyone. Dumbledore had sat back down in his throne chair. When Remus met his eye, he beckoned. He walked over, a little nervous to speak to the headmaster. 'Mister Lupin. It's good to see you joining us in the Great Hall for meals. Have you overcome your fear?' Remus shook his head. 'No, sir, but I have very good friends who help me.' 'That's wonderful news,' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'Friends are what make life worth living, I find.' 'Yes, sir,' Remus said. Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and gave him a meaningful look. 'Have you told them?' Remus' eyebrows shot up as his eyes widened. 'No! Of course not.' 'Don't be so quick to judge your friends unworthy of your trust, Mister Lupin. Mister Potter comes from quite a liberal family. He may surprise you. And Mister Black, well, he does not, but he seems determined to be the complete opposite of his ancestors.' Remus frowned. 'But, you said I mustn't tell.' Dumbledore inclined his head. 'I did. But if the time comes when you feel your friends can be trusted, then it is not up to me to stop you. It's your secret to keep or to share, not mine. However, I do ask that you let me know in advance. It may be necessary for me to... Intervene.' Remus nodded. 'Yes, sir,' he said. Though he had no intention of telling his friends anything. It just wasn't worth the risk. 'The reason I called you over here, though,'--Professor Dumbledore leant forward and spoke quietly--'was that I was hoping you would give me the incantation for this rather delightful snow. I want to make it a permanent part of the Christmas decorations.' 'Sir?' Remus asked, hoping he could bluff his way out. 'Oh, don't look so worried, Mister Lupin. Yes, I know you and your friends are the Marauders. You'll find very little gets past me. No, I won't tell anyone as long as you continue to be responsible with your mischief. I quite enjoy your displays. They show a lot of skill for ones so young.' Remus didn't know what to say. It was so unexpected. 'Thank you, sir?' he said at last, but it came out sounding like a question. 'You can thank me by giving me the spell,' Dumbledore said with a wink, his eyes twinkling. Remus gave him the incantation for the spell and returned to his friends to tell them what happened, minus the part about his lycanthropy. They moved to a secluded corner of the Hall to speak privately. 'So, he knows, but he's okay with it? We're not in trouble, and we don't have to stop?' James asked. 'Basically. Yes,' Remus said. James grinned. 'Brilliant.' 'What are you four doing whispering behind the Christmas tree?' Lily asked, appearing before them as if she'd learnt to apparate. 'I hope you're not planning to ruin this dance The Marauders organised. Why can't you be more like them? They don't hurt people.' James opened his mouth, but Sirius jumped in front of him and Peter grabbed the back of James' robes and tugged him away. 'Hello, Evans, we were just discussing the best way to get a Christmas gift to Snivellus. You wouldn't know his address, would you? We bought him a bottle of shampoo that's designed for extra-greasy hair.' 'Oh, you are horrid.' She turned away but glanced back over her shoulder at James. 'Nice robes, Potter,' she said sarcastically, looking him up and down. 'They suit you.' She tossed her hair over her shoulder before disappearing into the throng of dancing students. 'What did you do that for?' James asked after she left. 'You were about to tell her,' Sirius said. James crossed his arms. 'Do you have no faith in me?' Sirius shook his head with a smirk. 'Not when it comes to Evans, no.' James scowled at him and then glanced down at his robes. 'Do these robes really suit me?' 'No, mate. She was taking the piss,' Sirius said, laughing. James turned to Remus. 'What do you think?' James really could be dense at times. Did he really not recognise sarcasm? 'She was making fun of you.' 'Are you sure?' 'Yes!' all three of them said at the same time. 'Alright, no need to shout,' James said. -o-o-o-o- The next morning, the dorm was a wasteland of clothes as James and Peter frantically packed for the Christmas holiday, having left the job until the very last minute. Sirius lounged on his bed, feeling quite smug as he watched them race around the room, searching for their belongings. He glanced over at Remus, who was lying on his own bed reading a book and ignoring the commotion in the room entirely. Sirius envied him that ability. 'Sirius! Have you seen my robes? You know, the ones with the nice stitching?' James asked, searching through the mess of clothes on the floor. 'Nope,' Sirius said. 'We really need to get you two some muggle clothes,' Remus said without looking up from his book. James looked up and frowned. 'Why? What's wrong with robes?' Remus lowered his book and eyed James. 'Nothing is wrong with them. Muggle clothes just have so much more variety.' James' eyebrows knit together for a moment before his expression brightened. 'We can go shopping in the summer when you guys come to my house,' he said. 'You and Peter can teach me and Sirius how to dress like muggles.' Sirius pictured his mother's face if she saw him dressed like a muggle. She'd be furious. 'I'm in,' he said, grinning. Once James and Peter had finished packing, Sirius and Remus helped them carry their trunks down to the Entrance Hall and waited for the teachers to arrive. It was crowded. Around three-quarters of the school seemed to be going home, which was perfect for their plans. The quieter the castle was, the easier it would be to sneak around. The Heads of Houses arrived to escort the students to Hogsmeade station, and there was a lot of noise and commotion as they all boarded the carriages, which were being pulled by the creepiest-looking horses he had ever seen in his life. They were skeletal and had soulless white eyes that seemed to look right through him. 'What the hell are they?' Sirius asked with a shudder. James frowned at him. 'Carriages...' 'No, the things pulling the carriages.' 'There's nothing pulling them, Sirius. Are you feeling okay?' James looked at him with concern. James couldn't see them? He looked at Remus, but he just shrugged. Could nobody else see them? What if he was going mad? Was this the start of the famous Black insanity? Sirius decided just to ignore the things for now and worry about it later. 'Yeah, must have been a trick of the light or something. It's gone now,' he said. They boarded a carriage and trundled down to Hogsmeade station. Sirius hugged James and Peter goodbye, and Remus just waved. They both promised to uphold the good name of the Marauders over the holidays and waved the train off as it left. Remus waited until they were once again alone in the carriage before he broached the subject. Sirius was grateful for that, but he wished he wouldn't ask at all. 'What's pulling the carriages?' Sirius refused to meet Remus' eyes. 'I told you, it was nothing. I was seeing things.' Remus sat forward in his seat. 'Don't give me that rubbish. What's pulling the carriages, and why can't the rest of us see them?' He looked eager and excited, like they had discovered some great mystery that needed solving. Remus was such a nerd. 'You believe there's something pulling them then?' Remus shrugged. 'Of course. If you say you see something, I believe you.' Sirius got a funny feeling in his chest, which he chose to ignore. 'So what do they look like?' Remus asked. 'Like horses with wings, but skeletal. And they have big white eyes.' Sirius shuddered again when he remembered the eyes. 'Interesting.' Remus sat back in his seat and rubbed his chin. 'I'll have to do some research, see if I can find anything about them. I wonder why you can see them and the rest of us can't.' Sirius sat up straight. 'Oh no, you don't. You're not spending all holiday in the library. We have plans.' Remus waved his hand. 'I'll just check out some books and read them while you're painting. Or did you think I was just going to sit there and admire you?' Sirius laughed. 'Well, obviously. I'm so pretty,' he said, tossing his head to flip his hair around. 'Why wouldn't you want to sit and admire me for hours on end?' Remus chuckled. 'Oh, I don't know. Boredom?' 'Boredom? How could you be bored with me around?' He never got to hear Remus' response because at that moment the carriage rattled to a stop outside Hogwarts. The Christmas holiday had officially begun. Remus immediately disappeared off to the library to look for books about selectively invisible magical horses but promised he wouldn't be long. So he headed to the common room to wait for him and take advantage of the lack of students by grabbing the best seat in the room. Right in front of the fire. He sat down at one end of the squishy crimson sofa and swung his legs up, lying back with his head on the arm. Sirius was looking forward to having some decent time alone with Remus to properly get to know him. He had been such an important fixture in his mind for most of his life, and he more than lived up to expectations. Remus was brilliant, kind, brave and strong. Maybe in a different way to how he'd imagined, but that was irrelevant. The lycanthropy didn't matter to him. What mattered was how Remus handled it. And he handled it with a quiet strength that left him in awe. He only wished he could do more to help. When Remus returned from the library carrying a great stack of thick, heavy books which Sirius hastened to assist him with, they decided to go out in search of the Hufflepuff common room. James had left the invisibility cloak for them to use and they took it with them in case they found something. They had noticed the Hufflepuffs heading for the dungeons at the end of the day, so they wandered down to the lower levels. They searched for two hours with no luck before stopping by the kitchen for a bite to eat. The house-elves were happy to see them and plied them with sandwiches and cake until they could eat no more. They thanked the elves and left, continuing their search for a couple more hours before deciding to call it a day. They returned to Gryffindor tower disheartened but not defeated. They were sure they would find it soon. After dinner, Sirius collected his art set from the dorm and Remus grabbed his books before they walked the short distance to the beach-room and settled down on the sand. He set up his easel and removed one of the tiny enchanted canvases from the packet. Holding his palm out flat with the canvas in the middle, he tapped it with his wand and watched as it expanded to full-size, before placing it on the easel, ready to begin. Sirius worked steadily for an hour, transferring the scene before him to the canvas. He used his motion paint to bring the gently lapping waves to life and the colour changing paints to match the ever-changing colours of the sunset. He was just putting the finishing touches on the likeness of Remus--sitting on the sand with a pile of books beside him, his back to the viewer, his head bent over a thick volume, ignoring the beauty of the sight before him--when Remus glanced up. 'I think I've found something.' 'One minute, I just need to...' Sirius said, the tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips as he concentrated on getting the curls of Remus' tawny hair just right. 'There.' He stood back and admired the effect. It was magnificent, even if he said so himself. Remus stood and brushed the sand off his ass. 'Is it finished? Can I see?' Sirius nodded, and Remus walked over and gasped. 'It's beautiful,' he said, before cocking his head to the side. 'Did you have to put me in it, though?' 'Yes,' he said with a firm nod. 'Yes, I did. You make the picture complete.' He turned to face Remus. 'I want to do one with each of us. And then one with all four of us together.' 'That's a nice idea,' Remus said. He grinned. 'Anyway, what did you find?' Remus opened the book he was holding and showed him a sketch of the skeletal horses he'd seen pulling the carriages that morning. 'That's it,' Sirius said, staring at the page. 'That's what I saw. So I'm not crazy then?' Remus sat down on the sand, and he sat down next to him. 'No, you're not crazy,' Remus said. 'They're called thestrals, and they can only be seen by those that have seen death and accepted it.' He frowned. 'What does that mean?' 'Basically, it means you have to have seen someone die, have been deeply affected by the death and then come to terms with it.' 'I don't remember seeing anyone die,' he said. Remus stared out at the ocean for a few moments, apparently thinking. 'It could have been an animal,' he said eventually. 'One that you really loved?' 'Snuffles,' he whispered, staring at his hands. Remus turned to look at him. 'Pardon?' Oh, gods, that story would really bring down the mood. Best to say it as simply as possible. 'I used to have a dog, Snuffles. My mother killed him to punish me. I watched him die.' Remus covered his mouth with his hands. 'Merlin, Sirius. That's horrible. I'm so sorry,' he said. He lowered his hands. 'I wish I'd been there to help you.' Sirius smiled sadly at him. 'You were there. In my head, kicking the bitch in the shin. You did help.' Remus nodded. 'I'm glad,' he said. They sat in silence for a while, staring out at the waves breaking on the shore. He had no idea how long it had been when Remus checked his watch and jumped to his feet. 'We better go, it's almost curfew.' They gathered everything up and returned to the dorm. Sirius hung his painting on the wall between his and Remus's beds and stood back to admire it. 'It looks fantastic,' Remus said, coming to stand beside him. 'Thanks.' Sirius grinned at Remus before walking to his bed and lying down with his arms behind his head. Remus followed him. 'Scoot over.' Sirius shuffled over to make room, and Remus laid down next to him on his side. They were quiet for a minute before Remus broke the silence. 'It sounds like you had a pretty shitty childhood.' Sirius snorted. 'That's an understatement.' 'I can relate,' Remus said. 'I didn't have that great a time before coming to Hogwarts either.' Sirius turned onto his side to face him. Was he going to tell him? 'No? How come?' 'I don't think it was as bad as yours. I at least have my mum, and I know she loves me. But I'm pretty sure my dad hates me. He never speaks to me unless I ask him a question, and then he answers with as few words as possible.' 'I know how that feels,' Sirius said. 'I never went anywhere either. I didn't know anyone except my family. You guys are my first friends. That's probably why I'm a little weird.' 'You're mine too. Except for Reggie. And you're not weird. You're perfect.' Remus reddened and ducked his head, much to Sirius' satisfaction. It was getting harder to make him blush. Remus was getting used to him. Remus was quiet for a minute. 'I'm not perfect. But it's nice that you think so.' He was thinking about his lycanthropy again, Sirius was sure of it. Maybe a little nudge... 'What's wrong with you then?' Remus rolled onto his back and stared up at the canopy. He could almost see him thinking, and he held his breath. Not even daring to hope. 'I can't tell you,' Remus said after a few minutes had passed in silence. 'You don't trust me enough,' Sirius said quietly. Remus opened his mouth, but he didn't give him the chance to argue. 'It's fine. I get it. We've not been friends for long.' He paused. 'But I want you to know that, whatever it is, nothing could be bad enough to make me stop being your friend.' Remus turned back onto his side and searched his face. Sirius did his best to look as sincere as possible. 'You really believe that, don't you?' Remus asked, sounding surprised. 'Right down to my soul,' he said, placing a hand on his heart. Please tell me, please tell me, please tell me he chanted mentally, begging with his eyes. Remus rolled back onto his back. 'Maybe I'll tell you one day,' he said, at last, his voice quiet. Then he added in an even quieter voice as if speaking to himself, 'Maybe you'll even be right.' He tried not to be too disappointed. But if Remus didn't tell him soon, he might get fed up with waiting. It took them another two days of searching before they found the Hufflepuff's common room, under a pile of barrels in a shadowy recess near the kitchens. They were first suspicious when he tapped one of the barrels with his wand as they passed by and got soaked with a shower of vinegar. After both of them had received multiple vinegar showers courtesy of the barrels, they decided to lurk there under the cloak and wait to see if anyone turned up. They were waiting for nearly an hour and on the verge of giving up when a third-year Hufflepuff arrived and tapped one of the barrels in a distinct pattern: tap, tap, rat-a-tap. Sirius and Remus grinned at each other in triumph. They crept away to return later that night, while everyone was sleeping. -o-o-o-o- Letters sent during the first week of the Christmas holidays Saturday, 18th December Sirius and Remus, I hope you're having fun at Hogwarts. I asked Mum about having you all over in the summer and she said yes!!!! We need to pick a date; I was thinking around half-way through the holiday? I asked about the shopping trip too, and she said she would drop us in Diagon Alley and we could explore muggle London!!!! I'm so excited!!!! You can probably tell. It's nice to be home, but I miss you guys. Write back and tell me all your news! James Saturday, 18th December Peter, I hope you're having fun at home. I asked Mum about having you all over in the summer and she said yes!!!! We need to pick a date; I was thinking around half-way through the holiday? I asked about the shopping trip too, and she said she would drop us in Diagon Alley and we could explore muggle London!!!! I'm so excited!!!! You can probably tell. It's nice to be home, but I miss you guys. Write back and tell me all your news! James Sunday, 19th December James, Not much news here yet. I painted a picture of the sunset for the dorm. It has Remus in it being a nerd-- I wasn't being a nerd! Sorry, Remus snatched the quill. As I was saying, it has Remus in it being a nerd, and I want to do four more. One with each of us, and one with all four of us. Remus is trying to grab the quill ag-- Hi, James, I wasn't being a nerd; I was reading because watching Sirius paint is bor--- Watching me paint is not BORING! I'm excited your mum said yes about the sleepover and the shopping trip. I can't wait to get some proper muggle clothes. Mother will have a fit. Write again soon! Sirius and Remus Sunday, 19th December To James, Sirius and Remus, I'm just going to duplicate this, so I addressed it to all of you. I got home yesterday, and I'm already bored. Mum is making me help her clean the whole house to get ready for our relatives coming for Christmas. They're all muggles, so I can't talk about magic at all. I don't know what I'm going to say if they ask me about school. My mum said I can come for the sleepover as long as it's not the day of my birthday. She wants me home for that. Wish me luck with the muggle relatives, Peter Monday, 20th December Peter, That sucks! I can't imagine not being able to talk about magic. That must be so hard. I'm wishing you lots and lots of luck. I'm getting pretty bored too. I never realised before how quiet my house is. I don't have anything else interesting to say, so I'm going to sign off now. From one bored guy to another, James Monday, 20th December To The Marauders Chief Potioneer, We found it! We found the Hufflepuff common room! Mission back-to-school-surprise begins tonight. The Marauders Chief Artist and Chief Researcher & Safety Monitor Monday, 20th December To The Marauders Chief Imaginator, We found it! We found the Hufflepuff common room! Mission-back-to-school-surprise begins tonight! From, The Marauders Chief Artist and Chief Researcher & Safety Monitor Monday, 20th December To James, Remus and I have been very busy. We got soaked in vinegar, and we can't get rid of the smell no matter how hard we try. My hair is ruined! We've had two snowball fights, and I've painted another picture of the beach, the sunrise this time. Remus has been studying, he won't stop no matter how many times I tell him it's the holidays. Missing you, Sirius Hi James, I haven't been studying that much, only a little. Sirius forgot to tell you I won both of the snowball fights. He's insanely protective of his hair, and it puts him at a disadvantage. His paintings are lovely though. The new one has Sirius in it, staring out at the sea. It's very good. Can't wait for you to come back and take this maniac off my hands. Remus Wednesday 22nd December Sirius and Remus, Sorry I couldn't write back yesterday. My parents threw a party, and I had to be present. I'm sure you know how that is, Sirius. I can't believe you found it! No. That's wrong, I can believe it because you're both amazing. How is the mission going? ITS NEARLY CHRISTMAS! That is all, James P.S. How did you get soaked in vinegar? Wednesday, 22nd December Peter, Haven't heard back from you. Hope you haven't died from too much cleaning. James Thursday, 23rd December James, The mission is going well. We will complete the last phase tonight. You have my deepest sympathies on the parental party nightmare. I'm glad to hear you survived the ordeal. The vinegar soaking was related to the very secret discovery. We'll tell you all about it when you get back. IT'S EVEN MORE NEARLY CHRISTMAS. Sirius Hi James, Sirius is driving me crazy. Come back soon. That is all, Remus

Chapter 25

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT Oneshot: Family Karaoke Night

(Also on AO3 if you want to leave a kudos/comment there)

Plot: No matter what their singing abilities, anyone can get into karaoke - even an old rat.

((Finally finished this after having it in my drafts for like a month. Basically, I love family fluff, I love silly fun, and I love imagining characters singing. Put them all together, and you get this. Enjoy! ^v^))

While most kids her age probably had to be pushed and dragged into getting their homework done early, April had no problems with it. Of course, that MAY have had something to do with wanting to hang out with her brothers for a couple hours before having to go to bed and prepare for another exhausting school day, but hey, motivation was motivation.

Though, naturally, this motivation waned a little on the weekends, where it was far too easy to just push everything off until Sunday afternoon. It was a bad habit, April could admit that, but she had gotten a bit better at doing at least a little work each day before rushing off the sewers. And, on nights like tonight, she didn’t want to risk anything weighing on her mind and possibly ruining her night.

So, she worked through her assignments as soon as she got home, and munched on reheated leftovers as she wrote out the outline for her essay that was due the next week. Once she was satisfied with the progress she had made, April shut down her computer, grabbed her already packed bag and heading out the door, making sure to give Mayhem a quick pet goodbye before leaving. It was a bit later than she had hoped, though that hardly mattered when you were staying up all night.

“Heyyyy, I’m here!” April yelled once she reached the entrance of the lair. Almost immediately, she heard footsteps race towards her, and with a grin, she ran towards the brothers with open arms.

“See, boys? I told you she’d show up soon!” Raph said as soon as their group hug ended.

“Of course! I just had some homework I had to finish up, but there was no way that I was going to miss-”

“Karaoke niiiight~” Leo sang, holding a pretend microphone to his mouth. His brothers joined in, harmonizing. “Karaoke niiiiight!” “Karaoke ni-i-iiiiiight~!”

April snickered, shaking her head. Such dorks, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. After a moment though, she noticed the missing member of their quartet. “Hey, where’s Donnie?”

“Oh, you know how he is,” Raph answered, “He’s still downloading songs. I guess there was this album that was just released that he really wanted to sing?”

“Ah,” April nodded. That definitely sounded like Donnie. “Heh, you’d think he’d be happy with the songs we have. He texted me yesterday, tellin’ me all about how it was apparently ‘the most advanced karaoke machine of all time’. Wouldn't be surprised if that thing had a thousand and one songs on that thing by now.”

“Thaaat sounds about right, but apparently it’s still not enough,” Leo shrugged. Not that he could really complain, more songs could only be a good thing, just as long as they weren’t a bunch of cheesy love songs that he and his family sang at literal nauseum while they were high off a case of Rat Flu. No matter how fun the idea of an all-night karaoke night might have been, Leo wasn’t and would never be in the mood to hear a another three hour rendition of “My Heart Will Go On”.

“Come on, let’s go grab the snacks and then we can ask him about it!” Mikey told them, already grabbing April’s arm and eagerly dragging her towards the kitchen, “Oh! And April, did you bring-?”

“Of course!” April grinned, holding up her bag full of goodies. Beads and tacky sunglasses, huge hats and feather boas, and at least half a dozen old halloween costumes. It would seem that one person’s trash was another person’s stage outfit. Mikey grinned back at her, giving her a quick hug.

“This is gonna be AWESOME!” “Heh, isn’t it always with you guys around?” “Could say the same thing about you, sis~”

It took a bit of maneuvering to grab all of the snacks and treats Mikey had made in one go, but thankfully the box turtle’s near perfect balance and April’s experience in waiting tables helped them enough to carry all of it into the next room without spilling a single crumb - though they’d have to come back for the drinks. Naturally there were pizza puffs, as well as chicken wings, tortilla chips, popcorn shrimp, and even cupcakes (and in three different flavors, no less). Even with supper still settling in her stomach, she couldn’t deny that it all looked delicious!

“Gee Mike, you think we have enough to get us through the night?” April asked, smirking a bit despite the weight on her arms.

“I sure hope so.” Mikey placed the final bowl on his head, making sure not to tilt it. “But, if we get really desperate, I think we’ve got some ice cream in the back of the freezer.”

“Uh huh, and how old is it?”

Mikey thought for several moments before he finally answered, flashing a sheepish grin as he did so. “Uhhh, probably best not to ask.”

The tv room had been completely transformed. Leftover streamers from past birthday and holiday parties had been strung around haphazardly while a small ball with rainbow lights spun in the corner, giving the whole room a sort of disco effect. The lights were low and the projector was already on, and near the screen were two speakers that had been dragged out specifically for this night. From the karaoke machine, Donnie (whose classic goggles had been replaced with a pair of purple shutter shades) gave April and his youngest brother a brief wave, barely looking up from his tablet.

Beanbags, blankets and pillows had also been dug out, creating a classic sleepover mood. Near Splinter’s chair was their usual eating table, where they quickly dropped off their load. Almost immediately, Raph and Leo dug in, putting their “Best Power Rock Anthem of All Time” argument on hold for the time being.

“So, we about ready to start this night, already?” April asked, “Cause I’ve had a loooong day, and I’m ready to get singin’!”

“Just a few more minutes!” Donnie told her, “Just have to finish downloading these last few songs, plus install the love song blocker-”

“Tha’k yuu!” Leo said through a mouth-full of pizza puffs. His twin simply gave him a thumbs up.

“If April’s callin’ the first song of the night, then Raph’s callin’ the second one! After all-” He smirked, his voice deepening. “Someone’s gotta bring a bit of soul to this shindig. Awww, yeahhh~”

April snorted, covering her mouth before her giggles could escape. How Raphael managed to get into soul music of all things, she would never know. But hey, whatever made him happy. “Heh, second song’s all yours, Raph.”

“Sweet. Thanks, girl.”

“Ooh! And we’ve just GOTTA do duets!” Mikey chimed in, quickly turning back to his genius purple brother, “That thing does duets, right Dee?”

“It had precisely two hundred and thirty nine duets programmed into it, as well as a second microphone plug-in available. ...So yes, ‘Angelo,” he smiled simply, “It does duets.” Mikey leapt across the sea of blankets to pull him into a hug, silently thanking him for all his hard work. Not that it was really THAT hard or even that much of a bother - Donnie was just as much of a showman (er, show-turtle) as the rest of his brothers, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that they would be hearing quite a few Broadway numbers that night. Still, he appreciated the gesture, and returned it with a quick pat on Mikey’s shell.

“Well then come on, guys! Let’s stop talking about it and get started already!” Leo grinned, standing from his seat and striking a bit of a pose, “I hope you’re ready to be blown away by my sweet singing skills.”

“Hmph, gonna be hard to be ‘blown away’ if all you sing are meme songs,” Donnie retorted, rolling his eyes while everyone else snickered.

Leo however was hardly offended. “Don’t act like you still don’t consider ‘All Star’ to be a jam even after all the memes,” he said, smirking back at his twin.

“You know, in my time, people went out for karaoke rather than just taking over the nearest space for who knows how long.” Everyone turned to see Splinter in the doorway, looking not too happy about losing control of the tv room for the night. Sure, he had a tv in his bedroom, but the smaller screen plus what was sure to be a whole night of loud singing and laughter wasn’t much of a consolation.

“Aww, come on, Pop, don’t be like that,” Raph said, offering his father a welcoming smile. The rat man just huffed, crossing his arms.

“We’ve got snacks!” Dashing back over to the small table, Mikey picked up the bowl of chips. “You looooove snacks~”

Splinter hummed. “I do love snacks,” he mumbled, softening a bit.

“And-” Leo began, hoping to seal the deal and free themselves from their rat-dad’s grumpiness towards their special night once and for all, “I’m sure we could fit in some time to let you sing a few songs too! Come on, Dad, join in on the fun!”

At that, Splinter’s yellow eyes narrowed and hardened once more. “Ohhh, so NOW you don’t mind me singing, huh?” he asked, “Have you boys learned to appreciate other people’s musical talent, or do you simply not mind listening to something that ‘belongs in the sewers’?”

While April could only look on in confusion, the four turtles all winced in harsh realization. So THAT was why he was so upset and annoyed…

“Okay, but that was different!” Leo argued, “That was for our band and, and we just wanted it to be OUR thing!” In a lower tone, he added, “Plus it’s not like weird opera singing would’ve fit anyway-” Splinter growled. He tries to impress his sons a little with something unique and this is what he gets?

“BUT, that still doesn’t make it right!” Raph said, quickly jumping in (and shooting Leon a glare for good measure), “We’re sorry for what we said, and for bein’ so rude about it, okay Pop?”

“Yeah!” “Totes!” April nodded as well, despite having nothing to do with whatever incident brought all this up, just to give her support. Getting an idea, she then reached over and grabbed one of the microphones.

“You could even have the first song!” she offered, handing him the device as a peace offering, “What do you say, Master Splinter?”

“...” Splinter looked at the microphone, then at the faces staring back at him. All of them (the boys especially) were looking at him with concern as well as encouragement. Splinter sighed through his nose. He might have been petty at times, but he wasn’t so stubborn that he’d totally ruin his kids’ night. “I suppose I could sing one song.”

“Then step on up, Dad!” Donnie smiled, giving a dramatic wave of his arm towards the karaoke machine. Splinter smirked at the gesture, and began scrolling through the seemingly infinite song list.

“So you’re SURE there’s no love songs on there,” Leo whispered. Donnie nodded - though, he still wasn’t expecting that great of a ‘performance’ judging by how far back he moved, phone in hand. He just hoped whatever his father picked, it wasn’t too long of a song.

Thankfully, the genre tabs made it a bit easier to search for something familiar to him. He didn’t expect there to be any non-anime opening Japanese songs on there, but- “Aha!” He selected a song, and after a couple seconds, a light enough tune began playing through the speakers. First a keyboard and guitar, and then a blast of trumpets.

Immediately, everyone sat up a bit straighter. “Whoa! Is this-?” Raph asked, beginning to grin.

“I didn’t know he liked THIS kind of music too!” Leo commented.

“Ha! I grew up with this music, frankly I’m surprised YOU all even know it!” Splinter chuckled. The wonders of the Internet and timeless hit songs, he supposed. He then began to sing as he struck a bit of a pose, not even needing the words.

“Do you remember... the 21st night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders, while chasing the clouds awayyyyy~” His young audience started clapping along with the beat, giving a small cheer or two as they did. “Our hearts were ringing, in the key that our souls were singing. As we danced in the night, remember how the stars stole the night away~”

Sure, Splinter’s voice was still a bit gravely and off-key, but- “You know, he’s actually not that bad,” Donnie smiled, “Definitely has stage presence.”

“Heh, yeah,” Raph agreed, “And he can sure put a lot of energy into somethin’ when he wants to, don’t you think-?” April’s laugh cut him off, bringing the snapper’s attention back to the ‘stage’ in front of him, where his younger brothers now stood beside their father, happily singing along with the chorus despite not having microphones of their own. Splinter just grinned at them, not minding them all.

“Ba de ya!” Leo and Mikey sang.

“Someday you’ll remember-” Splinter sang back.

“Ba de ya!” They sang again, with Raph and Donnie now joining in as well.

“Dancing in September~”

“Ba de ya!”

“Never was a cloudy dayyyyy!” Splinter and April both belted out, with the latter still trying to hold back her laughter. The song went on, and not a single voice completely dropped out, with Splinter naturally taking the main part while his children kept the chorus strong. Even as the tune faded out, they all still sang and danced and giggled until Splinter finally spoke up once more.

“Well, I think it’s clear that I’ve properly gotten this karaoke night started~” He smirked, “April, I believe it’s your turn.”

“Don’t mind if I do!” April grinned as the rat passed the microphone.

April and Raph kept things in the 70s a bit longer with “Hanging On the Telephone” and a bit of Stevie Wonder while the twins brought it back to more moderns hits with  “Never Gonna Give You Up” (“Seriously, Leon? We were having such a great time and I feel so annoyed right now.”) and a bit of Daft Punk. Mikey nearly brought the sewers down with his rapping, and then it was back to Splinter with “Right Back Where We Started From”, a song the boys could swear they remember him singing from the childhoods, either while he was preparing food or just a light sorta-lullaby to calm them down.

The song selections went from disco to glam rock, broadway to hip-hop, soul to techno, and everything in-between. Costumes were naturally dragged out with each new performance, further adding to the fun as numerous pictures were taken. Snacks were replenished twice and Splinter grabbed some sake from his second “Do Not Touch” cabinet in the kitchen. He wasn’t much of a drinker these days, finding milk and cake more appealing, but he figured a glass or two wouldn’t hurt. As for everyone else, they loaded up on sugary pop and juice, not minding missing out.

It didn’t take long for Splinter to drop out after that, though he was still content with sitting in his chair and watching everyone else sing. He clapped after the surprisingly impressive rap battle between his youngest and his oldest, and laughed along with everyone else when Leo tried to sing some Vanilla Ice.

But, not even the most fun karaoke nights could last forever. The time between songs, where they’d just talk about random things or play on their phones, was getting longer and longer. Donnie had begun singing one of the more mellow songs currently on the billboard top 100 when Splinter finally closed his eyes.

When he woke up, the atmosphere in the room was much different. It was quiet, warm and peaceful even, despite the harsh neon lighting from the spinning light ball. On the screen, a turtle-shell logo silently bounced around. Surrounding his chair, Splinter could hear the light snores and mumbles of his sons and their friend. He could also see all the empty cans and wrappers, not to mention all the dishes and crumbs.

Splinter shook his head, mentally scolding them for the mess before shrugging it off. They were teenagers and making messes was just a thing they did, they could always clean later. He then put a paw to his mouth, muffling his cough. He didn’t lose his voice, but his throat was still pretty dry.

Slowly, he got up, and crept around the covered lumps, silent and swift like the ninja master he was. He stole one last glance at them once he reached the doorway, their laughter from the night before still echoing in his mind. He smirked at the memory, chuckling lightly before making his way to the kitchen.

Not wanting to wait for tea, Splinter just grabbed a cup and ran some warm water, drinking that instead. He made sure to sit as well, his aging joints still aching slightly despite being plenty mobile. He had accepted his age, having fought off any ‘mid-life crisis’ thoughts pretty well so far, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still notice certain things. The aches, the fatigue, the white hair.. (He still wasn’t completely sure if that last one was simply the mutation’s doing, or if raising four kids really stressed him out that much.)

Even so, nights like the one they just had and the content mornings like the one he was having now reminded him that he still had plenty left to enjoy and much more life to live. He definitely appreciated that… Perhaps that was why, once he finished his drink and his throat no longer ached, Splinter began getting out various pans and ingredients.

Ever since Michelangelo developed his cooking passion at the age of eight, he and his brothers had taken care of whatever meals that weren’t just ordered in. But just because Splinter was no longer the chef of the house didn’t mean he still didn’t know how to prepare a decent family breakfast. He started the rice first, then the eggs. They would have just enough for everyone to get one omelette each. He was just about to start cracking them when he heard footsteps.

“Morning,” April said quietly, giving him a nod.

“Good morning, April,” Splinter nodded back, “Feel free to go back into the tv room and relax, it’s going to be a while.”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna stay here for a while,” April replied, “I needed to stretch for a bit, and I do have another set of hands right here for you to use.”

“I’m capable of making breakfast on my own,” Splinter told her, his tone betraying his otherwise distancing words. You are a guest, don’t feel like you need to help.

April just smiled, and walked over to the counter. “I know, and so am I. Mind handin’ me a peeler?”

Having no real reason to argue, Splinter did as he was told. “...By the way, thanks for joining us last night,” she told him. With all the adventures there were to be had around the city and Splinter’s shows that he enjoyed watching, the six of them didn’t always get to hang out together too often. But just because these instances were more rare didn’t mean they weren’t still wanted. “The guys and I really enjoyed havin’ you around. ...You’re a pretty cool guy, Master.”

A warm smile crept onto his lips. “...I could say the same about you, April.”

The two worked in silence, with Splinter concentrating on the rice and eggs while April made her favorite hashbrown recipe as well as some bacon. Slowly but surely, the rest of their underground home (or in April’s case, home away from home) started coming back to life.

Mikey woke up first, greeting them both with a hug and eager to help by making toast. Raph came next, having smelt the food. With the food covered, he assigned himself table setting duties. Finally, a very groggy pair of twins joined them. Donnie started up the coffee machine and tea kettle (with the majority vote settling on camomile with a bit of honey) while Leo got out all the juice they had left in the fridge.

By the time everything was done, conversations had started up, hoping to hide the sound of their stomachs growling. “You know, we should try to do this next week!” Mikey said as they all began to sit down, “Or next month or, you know, just sometime soon!”

“What, karaoke till we pass out and then breakfast the morning after?” Donnie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mikey nodded eagerly. “Yeah! At least once a month! Come on, you guys are lyin’ if you say you don’t want to do that more often.”

While Mikey’s brothers and sister considered it, Splinter hummed in consideration. “Not a bad idea, Orange, though why don’t we focus on eating breakfast and cleaning up last night’s mess before we plan anymore karaoke nights, hm?”

The box turtle gave a sheepish smile. “Heh, right,” he said as he began digging into his food, “Got it, Pops.”

Splinter smiled back at his orange son before looking back down at his own plate. He nibbled on his rice and toast, and resisting the urge to start humming a certain song from the night before… Fun karaoke nights with his family were one thing, but getting a tune stuck in his head for hours on end was quite another.

Still, it wasn’t a bad idea… Not a bad idea at all.

THE END

[kane-and-griffin]

“I Put a Spell On You“

A Kabby Halloween fic in three parts for the AU The Woman That Fell From the Sky, in honor of @brittanias‘ birthday! 

(Yes I know it’s 6 weeks away, but it’s her favorite holiday and I regret nothing)

PART 1: “Cara Mia” (Halloween 2004)

GOMEZ: “How long has it been since we’ve waltzed?” MORTICIA: “Oh, Gomez . . . hours.” --The Addams Family

Holidays for the first few years are muted affairs.

Clarke is four when they move to Massachusetts, and the move is as great a shock to her system as the loss of her father.  The entirety of her small young life, undone and turned inside out.  Neither of them have the stomach for Thanksgiving or Christmas that year; Jake died in April and eight months is not enough time for them to face the misery of attempting to replicate holiday traditions without him.  New Year’s, Easter, Valentine’s Day, their wedding anniversary, Father’s Day, his birthday.  The endless, endless repetition of moments for which Jake is supposed to be there, but isn’t.

Then, a year and a half later, the terrible thing happens, the worst day of all their lives, and Marcus arrives at their doorstep with ash in his hair and kisses Abby’s mouth like she thought no one would ever kiss her again, and something, ever so faintly, begins to click into place.

He’s still there a month later, when the leaves begin to turn from green to gold to crimson, and the town begins to don its autumnal finery for the fall festival.

Clarke and Abby did not go to the festival last year.  Jake had been the one who carved their jack o’lanterns every year, elaborately detailed masterpieces of witches on broomsticks and black cats arching their backs.  He had a box of delicate, fine-bladed woodworking tools he used only for pumpkins, something Abby had long ridiculed him for.  She’d brought the box to Massachusetts, only because she could not bear to throw it away, but it had been moved straight to the garage and she’d never looked at it again.  She’d put a bowl of candy on the porch for the neighbor children, in the interests of seeming neighborly, but that was as much holiday spirit as she could muster.

Marcus, however, has never lived anywhere that was not New York City, and the fall festival is a thing of wonder to him.  So, to appease him – and because once he says the words “free candy” it’s impossible to dissuade Clarke from adding her pleas to his – they walk down after dinner on Halloween, and Abby – against all expectations, and very nearly against her will – finds herself slowly giving in to its charms.

There are orange twinkle lights wound around the columns of the gazebo in the town square and a small hay bale maze for the children.  There is a long table of caramel apples and popcorn balls and chocolate truffles dipped in orange fondant with charming toothy grins.  There is hot spiced cider in big black iron cauldrons, steaming with dry ice and scented with ginger and cinnamon, ladled out by a line of moms in pumpkin-embroidered aprons.  (Marcus and Abby’s steaming paper cups get discreetly spiked with bourbon by Roan, the hardware store owner, who shoves the flask back in his pocket as Officer Pike pretends not to notice.)  Clarke is the only child not wearing a costume; tiny witches and vampires and princesses and Frankensteins abound, along with one particularly grotesque blood-spattered zombie, introduced to them as Octavia Blake from down the street.

Everyone in town knows Dr. Griffin’s story by now – knew it within hours after the “SALE PENDING” sticker went up over the “FOR SALE” sign on the old white house on Birch Street.  Vincent the realtor had stopped by Indra’s for coffee that morning and told her everything, so by dinnertime everyone knew.  They orbited her at a safe distance for the first year or so, treating her rather gingerly, as though she were made of glass.  Under other circumstances she would have found this profoundly irritating, but inside that cocoon of grief, the less she had to talk to people, the better.

But now she’s at the fall festival, she’s drinking cider and holding hands with a tall dark-haired man in a leather jacket and she’s letting her tiny blonde daughter race through the hay bale maze at full throttle, excited squeals of glee echoing through the night air, and she’s smiling, and this is the moment the town falls in love with Marcus Kane for the very first time.

Because he made the doctor smile.

He comes back for the fall festival the next year, and the year after that.  Abby still can’t bring herself to open the box in the garage, and says a gentle but firm no to Clarke’s pleas for elaborate decorations.  They put out a bowl of candy on the porch, as all the neighbors do, and they stroll down to the fall festival and drink their cider.  Abby lets Clarke wear a costume (a cat the first year, Belle the second), but declines to wear one herself.

By their fourth year in Massachusetts, Clarke is eight, and Abby’s lackluster commitment to Halloween becomes a bone of contention before school has even started.  Marcus let her watch The Addams Family with him one night over the summer when Abby had an emergency late-night surgery and he was on parenting detail alone.  Clarke loves anything Marcus loves, so she is prepared for his favorite movie to become her favorite movie before he even turns the television on, and she falls head-over-heels for the glaring, morbid Wednesday Addams.  Maintaining basic table manners, after this, becomes a trial (“Pass the parmesan cheese.”  “What do we say, Clarke?”  “MORE.”) which Marcus’ badly-concealed chuckles do not help.  But she sets her heart on dressing up as Wednesday Addams in July, and by the time September turns the corner into October, she has worn her mother down.

Abby does not sew.  Or, more accurately, she does not sew fabric.  (Her surgical stitches are a thing of beauty, but those skills do not translate to any domestic project more elaborate than repairing a loose button.)  But her neighbor Callie does.  Callie was Abby’s first real friend in town, inviting her to book club and backyard barbecues and brunch potlucks until she slowly began to get her feet under her again, and begin to feel marginally less alone.  Callie is the neighborhood’s resident domestic goddess; her flower garden is always perfect, her table settings colorful and elegant, her sugar-dusted loaves of holiday gingerbread appearing like magic on doorsteps up and down the street every Christmas morning.  And she can sew, because of course she can, so once she overhears Clarke at the supermarket staring covetously at the racks of polyester costumes and lamenting the lack of a Wednesday, she steps in immediately.

“Oh, I love The Addams Family,” she tells Clarke, smiling.  “I’d be happy to make you a Wednesday costume.  Easy as pie.  And your mom should be Morticia, don’t you think?”

And once the words are said, of course, there is absolutely no peace in the Griffin household until Abby finally, finally, finally heaves a weary sigh, walks across the street, knocks on Callie’s door, hands her a bottle of merlot, and says only, “I give in.”

Callie goes to work immediately, laughing Abby’s checkbook out of her hands (“don’t be an idiot, this is a gift”) and taking both mother and daughter’s measurements, occasionally leaning down to whisper conspiratorially in Clarke’s ear and making the girl giggle so hard her blonde curls bounce against her shoulders.   Two weeks later, two long flat boxes (wrapped in black paper with black silk ribbon, with the beheaded stem of a rose tucked in each, which makes Clarke shriek with glee) appear on the front step.  In Clarke’s, a crisp black dress with a starched white collar, black tights, little black boots, and even a black wig already combed sleek and braided into perfect tight pigtails; in Abby’s, a long black wig and a dress that makes her eyes widen when she puts it on its hanger and realizes how low the neckline plunges.  (“She’s bisexual,” points out an amused Marcus when she calls him that night, his voice sounding bitterly disappointed that he’ll be working that weekend and won’t get to see it.  “It’s a gift for you and for her.”  Marcus has always liked Callie.)

Clarke loves her costume so much she has to be forcibly restrained from wearing it to school every single day for the whole last week of October, and something of her giddy joy begins to chip away, bit by bit, at Abby’s reserve.  She remembers this herself, after all, she’s not so old that she’s forgotten the year she dressed as Princess Leia and grew out her hair all year so it would be long enough for her mother to braid into side buns, or the year she was six and it rained so hard she had to wear galoshes under her Cinderella dress instead of glass slippers and cried about it all the way to the first house on the block but stopped as soon as she was handed a Kit-Kat.

Jake has been gone for four years.

The box has been in the garage long enough.

On Friday, when the school bus drops Clarke off on the corner, she is momentarily disoriented, and for a second, she is unsure whether she has arrived at the wrong house.  Because it looks like Halloween, for real, it’s the Halloween house of her eight-year-old dreams, with pumpkins and hay and a wreath of dried leaves on the door.  And when she opens the door, she gasps so loudly Abby can hear her in the kitchen and comes outside, wiping her hands on her apron.  (Mom is wearing an apron?)  There are shiny glass pumpkins and pretty black candlesticks and pretend spiderwebs on the dining room chandelier.

“You were too little to remember,” Abby says, “but me and your dad, we used to love Halloween.  We dressed up and had parties in the apartment every year.”

Clarke looks around, eyes even wider, taking it all in.

“Did all of this belong to Dad?”  Abby nods.  “Did you not want to look at it before because you were too sad?”

Abby is startled, as always, by the depth of this small child’s perceptiveness; sometimes it’s like talking to a tiny grownup.  She nods, not quite trusting her voice yet, but Clarke doesn’t press her any further.  “I’m glad you’re not so sad anymore,” is all she says, and trots into the kitchen where her eight-year-old senses have unerringly detected the scent of cookies.

The next morning, after pumpkin pancakes (picked up from Indra’s diner, of course; Abby’s baking skills were maxed out yesterday in baking ghost-shaped cookies and letting Clarke decorate them), Abby takes her daughter by the hand and leads her out to the backyard, where she has laid old newspaper all over the surface of the old rickety picnic table, and two absolutely perfect pumpkins – round, sleek, glossy, their sunset-orange skins free of every blemish – sit next to a cardboard box duct-taped shut which Clarke has never seen before.

“Pick one,” says Abby, and Clarke can’t do anything but fling her arms around her mother’s waist.

 Sunday dawns crisp and clear, perfect Halloween weather.  Clarke is incandescent with eight-year-old glee, and even Abby is finding herself, surprisingly, getting into the spirit of it.   They eat dinner early, around four-thirty, and Callie comes over to help them dress.   The knock at the door, around five-fifteen, just as Abby is finishing her makeup, startles her.  It’s far too early to be children; the fall festival kicks off around six, with the trick-or-treaters beginning their rounds shortly thereafter, once their parents have each had time for a cup or two of Roan’s “special” cider.  Abby leaves Clarke sitting on the side of her bed, Callie winding her blonde ringlets into neat little pincurls so the wig will lay flat, and descends the staircase reluctantly, already feeling a bit ridiculous.  If it’s the FedEx guy, and she’s in a skintight black dress cut so low she can’t even wear a bra . . .

The door swings open while she’s halfway down the stairs, startling the life out of her, and she freezes in place.

It’s definitely not the FedEx guy.

“Cara mia,” says Marcus, who is standing at her door in a flawless Gomez Addams costume – pinstriped suit, slicked-back hair, his face clean-shaven save for a perfect pencil mustache – and Abby feels her heart crack open inside her chest.

She stands there, a little stupidly, not entirely convinced she isn’t simply imagining this, until he closed the door behind him and she finally collects herself enough to descend to the bottom of the stairs and meet him in the foyer.

“I would very much like to kiss you,” he says, fiery warmth in his gaze as his eyes travel up and down her body in the curve-hugging black dress, “but it looks like you just finished your makeup and I don’t want to ruin it.  So just know I’m saving one extra for later.”  But he does put his arms around her, pulling her close, pressing his mouth against the creamy bare skin of her shoulder, and she has to swallow hard over and over again to keep from crying off the perfect wings of black eyeliner that took her three tries to get right.

“How are you here?” she finally manages to whisper, but the mystery is solved before she can even finish her sentence.

“Clarke,” she hears Callie’s gleeful, mischievous voice from above her, “I believe your Halloween present is here.  Run downstairs so I can come take some pictures.”

“Pictures of what?” Clarke demands, little feet scampering out of her room towards the staircase, where she too stops short at the sight of him.

But Clarke recovers faster than her mother did, launching herself down the steps with lightning speed to fling her arms around him and let herself be lifted up and pulled close to his chest in a massive hug.  “You look just like him!” she squeals.  “You even have the mustache.”

Marcus sets her back down on her feet and examines her costume.  “Perfect,” he pronounces emphatically.  “She did great.”

“I told you I would,” laughs Callie, descending the stairs, camera in hand.

Abby stares from one to the other.  “Did you two cook this up together?”

Marcus and Callie grin at each other conspiratorially, like mischievous children.  “Maybe,” he says, refusing to elaborate further, then bows deeply at Abby and holds out his hand to her.  “Cara mia,” he says again, his low voice making her shiver even with Clarke and Callie standing right there.

“You’re staying the night, right?” she murmurs into his ear as they pose for photo after photo, so quietly that Clarke doesn’t hear her.

He chuckles, warm and low.  “That depends.  You don’t have to give the dress back, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’m definitely staying the night.”

“I can’t promise you I’ll want to wear the wig any longer than I have to.”

“I’m willing to compromise on the wig,” he says, winking at her, and then pulls back and pivots smoothly on his heel to dip her dramatically in his arms, making Clarke giggle, and suddenly even the delicious thought of Marcus unzipping her out of the tight black dress is pushed out of her mind by the realization of what this is and what she’s doing.

They have matching Halloween costumes, so they can go trick-or-treating together.

Callie is taking family photos of them.

These are family photos.

They are a family.

She feels that old, familiar pang in her chest, thinking of Jake, but it doesn’t push the smile away or dull her happiness.  Not like it used to.

Jake always meant that box to be opened.  He always meant those orange paper Halloween lanterns to hang over the dining room table.  He always wanted this for Clarke.  He would want this for her now.

Perhaps it is possible, after all, to get back the thing she’d lost.  Something different, but no less real.

Because Marcus is family now.  She knows this, down to her bones.  Yes, he came to see her, and yes, she can tell from the way his eyes never leave her that the allure of Abby dressed as one of his favorite movie characters was a powerful draw.

But he did this for Clarke.

She knows this even before she makes him say it to her, out loud, later that night, as they stand in the white glow of moonlight streaming in through her bedroom window, as he steps in close to her and kisses the back of her neck to unzip the black dress.  She knows it as he leans over to steal a bite from Clarke’s candy apple, knows it every time he reaches out instinctively for her tiny hand as they cross the street to get to the next house, knows it as he lifts her into his arms to let her sleepy head droop onto his pinstriped shoulder as they make their way back home.

Every time he gets in his car and drives out of Manhattan and through the long stretches of forest-lined highway to pull up in front of her front door, it is not only Abby he’s coming home to.

“I just like to see her happy,” he says helplessly, when she asks him, and she does kiss him then, turning around in his arms, unzipped dress sliding off her shoulders, black wig and red lipstick gone, face pink and clean.  Just Abby and Marcus, alone in the moonlight, with a tiny blonde creature snoring two rooms away, sleeping the sleep of the candy-intoxicated, hair a wild golden cloud from Callie’s pincurls.  “I just wanted to see the look on her face.”

“I don’t know how to tell you,” she starts to say, but can’t finish the sentence.  She doesn’t have the words for him, for what it means to her.  He bought a suit for this, shaved off his beard for this, cut his hair for this, and drove four hours from Manhattan with a jack o’lantern in his back seat, just to make Clarke smile on Halloween.

He tilts her chin up to look into her eyes, and she sees that his are shining with tears.  “I like to see you happy too,” he says softly, and then bends his head to kiss her, and no one says anything for a long time after that.

He lets her sleep in the next morning, since it’s her day off, and takes Clarke to school himself.  She wakes around nine-thirty to the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon, and comes downstairs in her pajamas to see a pan of pumpkin-cinnamon bread pudding on the counter.  The kitchen is empty, but she knows he must be home; there’s a steaming mug of coffee on the marble island, with more in the pot for her, and his keys and wallet are sitting next to them, along with a little rectangle of yellow paper, creased like he’d folded it up and put it in his pocket.  But it’s unfolded now, and she can see the logo of Saint Henry’s Church at the top of it, which is unexpected enough that it prompts her to pick it up and read it.

It’s a receipt for a five-dollar donation.

She stares at it for a long time, bleary with sleep, puzzling it out, before she hears the back door close and sees him come up the steps, holding the glass votives he took out of the jack o’lanterns before putting them into the compost bin.

“Dia de los Muertos,” he says softly, as he enters the kitchen.  “Tomorrow is All Souls’ Day.  Clarke and I stopped by the church to light a candle.”

“For Jake,” she whispers, and he nods.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he confesses, coming closer and putting his arms around her.  “Any of this.  But I always want her to feel like there’s room for both of us – for him and for me – to live side-by-side.”  He kisses the top of her head.  “Is that okay?” he murmurs into her hair, sudden worry in his voice.  “Should I have asked?”

She shakes her head, face still buried in his chest, the cotton of his sweater warm and soft beneath her cheek.

“No,” she whispers.  “It’s perfect.  You did everything right.”

[foularcadebanana]

Drarry go bowling (For the first time)

This is the second one-shot I’m uploading from my Drarry ‘for the first time’ series. Here is a link to the first one where they go out to watch a movie for the first time. I hope you guys enjoy it. I loved writing this and I’m glad about how it turned out.

Draco held the bowling ball up, his first three fingers inside the holes meant for grip, with an expression of pride on his face. “See, this is how you hold a bowling ball, Potter.”

“I’m not really sure that you’re supposed to hold it like that, Draco. I think that we have to put these three fingers in the holes, like this.” Harry demonstrated, putting his thumb, his third and his fourth finger into the holes. Then he tried to copy one of the moves that he’d seen in some cheesy romcom flick with Draco, and grinned at him when he realised that his hold on the ball was definitely more right than wrong.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry and changed fingers, holding the ball like Harry was. He then proceeded to hold his head high, mouth curled with a slight hint of distaste in his expressions as he realised that Harry might possibly be right. “Whatever,” he grumbled and Harry couldn’t help but smile at his pettiness. He shook his head fondly, giving Draco a quick peck on the cheeks and reveling in the blush that tinted them.

Harry was pretty sure that the only reason he knew which fingers went where was because he’d heard Hermione giving Ron a very detailed description of just how bowling worked. That had been when Harry had gone to his two best friends for advice, asking them if going to a bowling alley was an appropriate second date. Hermione had almost squealed in delight, and Ron had obviously wondered what the heck bowling even was, which had led to almost an hour long rant by Hermione that both Ron and Harry had pretended to be interested in. In fact Harry guessed that Ron had been listening with interest, it had only been Harry who had resigned himself to staring at the wall and catching tidbits of the conversation here and there.

He guessed that Ron’s dedication to listening to Hermione speak about anything at all came from the fact that he was so taken with her, and Harry couldn’t really blame him or joke around about it because he felt like he could relate. He knew that he could listen to Draco complaining, whining, ranting about nothing in particular for hours, and he especially loved it when Draco talked about something that he was extremely passionate about, he loved that fire in Draco’s eyes.

He snapped out of his little daydream when Draco snapped his fingers in front of Harry’s face. “I think you’re up first, Chosen One.” Draco almost sneered at him, but it didn’t hold any real heat, and Harry could swear that he saw him trying to hide a smile.

Harry rolled his eyes, trying to hide his own smile as he stepped forward, his bowling ball in hand. He had a basic idea of what he was supposed to do but was a bit nervous at having never done it before. Taking a deep breath, he repeated that move from the movie that he had before. The ball slipped from his hand and made it about quarter of the way until it turned unexpectedly to the side and rolled away without Harry having scored a single point.

He groaned, looking heavenwards and wondering why, out of all the things that he could be bad at, it had to be bowling. So much for impressing his date with his ‘mad skillz’ as Teddy had put it. “Come on, Potter, you’ve got another turn.”

Harry thought that it couldn’t get any more embarrassing and he couldn’t be more of a loser, he was wrong. As a determined Harry stepped up yet again, this time vowing to make at least one bowling pin fall, the ball slipped from his hand and he was introduced to a world of pain. It turned out that the bowling ball had fallen directly onto Harry's foot. Feeling humiliated from the scene, and knowing that he couldn’t really come back from that, Harry sat down on a chair, exasperated. He kept his head down in embarrassment, covering it with his hands, and said to Draco, “It’s your turn now.”

Harry couldn’t even muster up the strength to look up at him, so he was taken by surprise when gentle hands pried his own away from his face and fingers slid under his chin to tilt his head up. He let them, and found himself looking into familiar grey eyes. Harry blinked, dazed, as he couldn’t bring himself to look away from them, but when he did, he noticed the concern and worry etched onto Draco’s face. “Where did you get hurt?” he asked. Harry’s heart almost skipped a beat at hearing the softness in his voice.

He pointed to that specific area on his foot where the ball had fallen, and almost stuttered while speaking since Draco started removing his shoe and sock all of a sudden. Harry inhaled sharply, a quiet gasp falling from his lips as Draco’s hands touched his feet. They were just as soft as he’d imagined and they touched Harry’s feet with such gentle care that Harry couldn’t help but want to kiss Draco right then. But he didn’t, because this was their second date and weren’t there rules of dating that stated that you weren’t supposed to kiss your date until you went out a third time or something? Harry had no clue. He’d never properly dated anyone before and he didn’t want to screw up his only chance.

Harry’s eyes closed and he exhaled, letting out a soft sigh as Draco wandlessly healed his foot. His hands were light as they worked on Harry’s foot and he did it all with an expertise that frankly Harry hadn’t known that he had possessed. “God, I’m pathetic aren’t I?” Harry managed to huff out.

Draco was beautiful and graceful and caring and gentle. He was perfect with his perfect pale skin and his perfectly pale hair and those perfectly coloured eyes. He could dance, and play the piano, and write and speak so beautifully that Harry fell more and more in love with him each day. Harry on the other hand, had managed to botch up his only attempt at impressing Draco with his non-existent bowling skills and had zero talent whatsoever.

“I've called you a lot of names in the past, Potter, and so have many others, but I'm sure that pathetic was never one of them.” Draco got up and held out a hand for Harry. “Now get up so that I can teach you the proper way to bowl.” Harry gave him a small smile in response, and offered his hand to Draco, letting him pull Harry up.

“I didn’t know that you could do wandless magic,” Harry said, sounding genuinely impressed. “Healing spells are difficult, aren’t they?”

Draco nodded his head to confirm Harry’s suspicions, healing spells were indeed hard. Harry had a hard time casting them with his wand; he couldn’t imagine ever becoming confident enough to do them wandlessly like Draco had. He had done it so effortlessly too, like it was absolutely nothing. Harry could only do wandless attack and defense spells and that too under pressure.

“They teach us to do wandless spells for minor injuries in our training as a Healer,” Draco said, leading Harry his place opposite the bowling pins. Before either of them could say another word, Draco handed Harry a bowling ball that was somehow lighter than the previous ones and stood just behind him. Harry couldn’t concentrate on anything except for Draco’s hand on top of his, guiding it properly and instructing him when to let go. He could feel Draco’s breath on his neck and felt hyper aware of his body which was now touching Harry’s.

Harry’s jaw almost dropped as they let go of the bowling ball and it rolled straight into the pins, making every single one of them fall. “I can’t believe it! We got a strike. I did it, Draco! I mean we did it. Well it was mostly you but still.” Harry grinned up at Draco who was giving him his signature smirk, and Harry narrowed his eyes as he suddenly realised something. “Wait a minute, how did you know how to do that?” Harry let out a dramatic gasp and poked Draco in the chest accusingly, “You’ve done this before haven’t you?”

Draco chuckled at that, “I haven’t, actually. But I did read up about it.” He paused and nervously rubbed the back of his neck ((A/N: Because let’s be real, my baby would never dare to put his hand through that gorgeous hair of his)). “I may have also called Granger and asked her about it.”

Harry certainly wasn’t expecting that, and he was shocked to say the least. “You asked Hermione to tell you all about bowling?” He got a shy nod in response, and noticed a slight reddening of Draco’s cheeks.

“I guess that makes me the pathetic one now, doesn’t it?” Draco spoke, cheeks flushing darker. He looked down at his feet, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Draco,” Harry said, crossing the little distance between them and placing his hands on both sides of Draco’s face, “I think that’s very sweet.”

Harry felt relieved when Draco snorted out loud and scoffed, muttering something along the lines of “of course you do,” before meeting his eyes and maintaining the eye contact. In that moment, Harry knew that he wanted to kiss Draco, rules of dating and everything else be damned, and so he did. He leaned forwards, tilting his head upwards to catch Draco’s lips in a gentle kiss and felt Draco’s mouth open slightly in shock before he kissed back. Harry only smiled against his lips before he deepened the kiss.

[thesunglassesgamer]

Cooking Problems

Short, quick oneshot for the Wholesome week thing. Not very refined, but wholesome. A little rushed, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to get anything out for today. Just enough trash for one day. Enjoy!

One would think that it shouldn’t be too hard for a princess to learn how to cook. After all, it only required some basic measuring skills, the ability to read and follow instructions, and some stirring and whisking and whatnot. Yet whenever Star tried to cook or bake anything, she made it seem like rocket science. She and Marco had been trying for the past hour to make a cake for Mrs. Diaz’s birthday. So far, they’d ruined two mixing bowls, broken five spatulas, covered the floor with flour, covered the ceiling with sugar, accidentally summoned an ancient cake monster from an era before mankind, and still had no cake to show for their efforts. Star sat down in a pile of flour, her spirits crushed.

“Ah, shucks, Marco,” she pouted, shoulders heavy, eyes glued to the floor. “I’m such a failure. I can’t even make a simple cake. How am I going to be queen?” She stuffed her face into her legs and curled up into a little ball. “I’m such a disappointment.”

Marco felt bad looking down at his bestie’s mood, as anyone would. He knelt down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Star, you aren’t useless and you know it. Could a useless person take on ten monsters on her own and come out without a scratch?”

Star shrugged unenthusiastically. “Eh, I guess.”

Marco sighed. Things had started out much better that day. He’d been working on a science project when his door had been slammed open.

“Marco, Marco, Marco!” Star shouted, almost literally bouncing off the walls.

Marco’s body had gone rigid at the raucous noise. He slowly unfroze and turned to face her. He gave her a mild glare. “Star,” his sarcasm had gotten better over the past few months, “Believe it or not, ‘knocking on the door’ is not a tradition lost to the past.”

Star waved her hands. “Forget about that, Marco. Do you know what today is?”

“Uhh-“

“Not ‘uhh’ day.” She rolled her eyes and gave him a sassy look. “Any you’re supposed to be the smart one.” Before Marco could make a quick retort, she continued. “It’s your mother’s birthday, dummy! We need to make her a cake.”

Marco blinked. “It’s my mom’s birthday? How did I forget?” Then he looked up, suddenly even more confused. “Wait, how did you know?”

Star brushed her hair out of her face with a mix of grace and ‘ha’. “I looked on the calendar.” Marco slapped himself in the face and mentally kicked himself in the butt. “Anyways, we need to bake a cake, and I have awful baking skills, soooooooooooo…”

“So, what?”

She gave him a saucy glance. “So, I need your help to make the cake!”

Marco sighed. On one hand, his science project was due in only a couple of more days and still needed a lot of work. He needed as much time as possible to make it worthy of an A. On the other hand, he hadn’t been able to hang out with Star much recently. He’d been hanging out with Jackie, working on a larger supply of homework, etc. He hadn’t seen Star in a mood this good for a while, and she’d probably bother him until he helped her out.

He sighed. “Alright, let’s go.”

Star burst with excitement. “Yay, thanks Marco.” She gave him a huge hug, one a little tighter than their previous hugs. Marco thought nothing of it. It had been a while.

Baking had started out simple enough. Getting the ingredients all together didn’t take long, although there was a short argument on whether glitter should be added. Star proudly proclaimed that glitter makes everything better, but Marco countered that they hadn’t made her brownies at the sleepover any better. Marco won the argument. Problems started to arise when instructions became involved. Star felt that any temperature under five hundred degrees Fahrenheit was too weak for her cake. While Marco tried to adjust the temperature, Star began adding in all the ingredients. She tried to mix the items together, but it didn’t take long for things to get out of hand. She tried using magic to stir faster, and soon a mess appeared. One thing led to another, and next thing you know, they’re facing off against an ancient being of tremendous power.

Having gone through all of that, Marco could understand why Star felt so distraught. He tapped her on the shoulder and softly whispered, “Star?”

She looked up at him miserably. “What?”

Marco gave her a sad, tiny smile. “If you’ve messed up, than I guess we’ve both messed up. And do you know what that makes us?”

“Useless? Trash? Mistakes?”

Marco shook his head and bopped her on the nose. “It makes us mess-up twins.”

Star’s face went blank for a second, and then her eyes brighten up. She let out a small giggle, followed by a snort. Marco joined in her laughter.

“Star,” Marco began, his words both warm and genial, “I won’t lie. You do tend to make messes from time to time. But I can’t say that I’ve never enjoyed a single one of them.”

Star’s cheeks blushed a deep red. “Thanks, Marco. You always know how to cheer me up.”

He smiled. Then he looked around the room and frowned. “Enjoyable or not, this mess has to go.”

Star’s smile wavered. “But I’m not sure if-“

Marco grabbed her hand that held her wand. “Yes you can. Just believe.”

Intense heat spread throughout all of Star’s body. Her red blush grew deeper. Her wand started to glow purple, even without her saying anything. A burst of light went throughout the room, and the mess was cleaned up and replaced with a shiny kitchen. A large chocolate cake lay on the counter. Star’s eyes went wide.

“How- how did you know that-“

Marco frowned, looking genuinely confused. “Know what?”

“Uh, know that it would clean up the mess?”

Marco looked around, then shrugged. “I didn’t know. All I know is that I’ve doubt you in the past, and that hasn’t gotten us very far.”

Star gave him a humble grin. “Well, I can be impulsive. Like the oven temperature and the magic stirring. Honestly, I’m surprised that I haven’t told you about my crush on you yet!” A half second later, panic jolted through her body.

Marco laughed. “I know, right?” Then he blinked. “Wait, what was-“ But as he looked back down to where Star had been, she was gone. Marco called out her name, but all he got back was:

“Can’t talk right now, busy!”

Marco frowned, and then shrugged. Star was Star. He was sure that if there was anything seriously important, he could count on Star to be open with him.

[juleswritesallwrongs]

Christmas and other risky ventures 5/5

I know 2017 isn’t exactly brand-new, but, still, I want to wish you a very happy new year and only the best for the upcoming months. Also, I hope you’re still clinging to your Christmas spirit a little bit, because this is the final and most Christmassy chapter. It also involves spoilers for The Flash’s winter finale - just so you know and proceed with adequate caution. I hope you like it nevertheless.

Albi, I’ve said it before; I’ll say it over and over again: you are amazing and I can’t thank you enough.

Happy reading. Love, Jules.

As always, crossposted to A03 and ff.net.

Scrooge you, Charles Dickens

Heavy raindrops bursting on Oliver’s forehead startled him awake. His eyes snapped open, but only the darkness of the night welcomed him, chased away for an instant by a crackling thunderbolt. As thunder rumbled around him, he fought to get off the wet ground, limbs heavy, mind slow. Shaking the fog of unconsciousness and snapping into alertness was harder than before, making Oliver wonder if he had jumped more than ten years. He felt groggy and disorientated and the heavily pouring rain didn’t make it any easier. Jerking his head, he tried to clear his mind. The grip on his bow tight, he blinked against the rain and finally realized he was in Star City’s Central Park. His latest time jump had dumped him right next to the big Christmas tree. Earlier this month, its ceremonial lighting had been his bittersweet, mayoral duty, reminiscent of a more hopeful moment. Right now, the tree was nothing but a darker silhouette in the darkness of the park. The Christmas lights wrapped around it were dark, just like the lamps next to the path. Oliver looked around. He was alone—which wasn’t surprising, considering the raging thunderstorm. Was it possible that he had returned to 2016 and the horrible weather of Christmas Eve? But why were all lights off? The question had just entered his mind when a red light flashed. A blast hit his face, stretching his hood around him, and the familiarity of it kept him from taking a defensive position. “Welcome back.” Barry Allen sent Oliver a half-smile and moved next to him, putting his hand on his friend’s neck.

Oliver hardly had time to close his eyes and brace himself for what he knew was coming. In the next millisecond, he felt like a heavy weight was pressing down on his chest forcing all air out of his lungs. His feet dangled uselessly behind him, his hand fisted his bow, his arrows rattled in the quiver on his back, his stomach started to revolt. Seconds later, his feet touched solid ground and he could breathe again. He inhaled deeply, filled his lungs to calm his nerves and stomach. He would never get used to, let alone enjoy, the sensation of speeding with Barry. Still trying to regain his composure, Oliver opened his eyes to the familiar view of the Bunker. He felt as if he had only been here minutes ago, confronting himself. Luckily, this time he was greeted by another, much more friendly sight: his friends, looking just like he remembered them. He barely had time to register everybody present (Felicity, Thea, John, Donna, Barry, Caitlin, and Cisco) and that only the emergency lighting (basically, Felicity’s computers) was on before Caitlin Snow moved to him. With an accusatory smile, she lifted an injection pen to his neck. “This might sting a little,” she warned and pressed the needle into his skin. It stung a lot. Oliver pressed his lips together, scrunching up his face, only granting himself a hiss. “That should establish synchronicity of your molecules with our space-time and link you in the present.” Oliver nodded. It was a gesture of acceptation and gratitude. Scientifically, the words didn’t mean anything to him, but he understood that his friends had worked hard to find a solution for his problem. They had used their combined expertise to help him, had invested their time on Christmas Eve to save him. He trusted their skills and their… whatever they had injected into his system, even if he couldn’t even begin to fathom how any of this worked. It felt strange that one stinging injection should be the cure after everything that had happened, but Oliver had once seen flashing lights clear Barry’s rage-filled mind, and that had also been science way over his head. Meeting Caitlin’s eyes as she sent him a small smile, a wordless nod suddenly didn’t feel enough to Oliver. Following a sudden urge rooted in everything he had experienced in the last hours, he said, “Thank you.” Surprise showed on Caitlin’s face and that told Oliver that she knew him well enough that she hadn’t expected him to actually say it. Her smile turned bigger, “Of course.” “Time travel without a Delorian,” Thea said, walking toward him, a smirk on her face. “Are you sure you did that right?” “No,” Oliver answered, absolutely serious. “Not sure at all.” His sister hugged him strongly and Oliver held on just as tight. He hadn’t met Thea in any of the stops he had made in time and didn’t know if his future self had told the truth about her being with her family on Christmas Eve, but Oliver chose to believe himself. He needed her to have a happy future. He felt unsettled by everything that had happened to him tonight, by everything happening to him in the future, by possibilities that might or might not be set in stone. Being so close to his sister, feeling her worry in the way she hugged him despite her nonchalant words, didn’t exactly help to ground him. “We’ll know if it works in the next ten, fifteen minutes,” Cisco said from behind Thea. “If he doesn’t do the time warp by then, we should be fine.” He looked at his watch. “So much for Joe’s Christmas party.” A pang raced through Oliver. He had ruined everybody’s Christmas Eve. They didn’t want to be here in the Bunker with him; they had better things to do. And suddenly it hit Oliver that Barry was here, but his girlfriend Iris wasn’t. He was about to send them all away, to go and be with their families and loved ones, when Barry smirked, “Not a problem.” Oliver expected the blast before it hit his face. A whirl of red light rushed around the room for two… eventful seconds and suddenly the Bunker was crammed with decorations. Evergreen garlands laden with ribbons and Christmas balls wrapped around the handrail of Felicity’s work station, the salmon ladder, and the biometric cases housing the mannequins that now also donned Santa hats. Springs of mistletoe dangled from the ceiling and lit candles stood on nearly all flat surfaces, their flames flickering wildly in the blast reminiscent of Barry. Wearing his red Flash suit, mask up, he stood next to Oliver’s desk, which usually held arrow-making equipment, now replaced with a punch bowl and mugs. Barry raised the ladle, “Eggnog?” The question was met with stunned silence and then—collective approval. The serious and stiff atmosphere vanished instantly. Oliver saw the people around him relax, watched Caitlin turn to Felicity to compliment her dress and Donna confront Barry about the lack of a menorah. (One was added in a flash.) Thea reached for Oliver’s hand, gave it a quick, supportive squeeze, and joined the others by the eggnog. Oliver watched from the sidelines, his right still holding on to his bow, his heart too heavy to go and mingle just yet. “You okay, man?” John asked, moving to him. Slowly, Oliver nodded, but the look on his best friend’s face told him that his answer wasn’t believable. He shifted his weight and admitted, “It was a weird night.” “That says a lot, coming from you.” John crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you want to talk about it or do you need a minute?” The question proved how well his partner knew him. A weak but thankful smile showed on Oliver’s face and he answered by stating, “You should go be with Lyla and John, Jr. Didn’t you tell me that you have to leave a Santa trail?” “I do,” John confirmed, “I’ll need a flashlight, though, since a lightning bolt took out the power in nearly all of Star City.” The men shared a long, loaded look until John asked, “Are you sure you’re okay on your own?” Oliver gestured across the room, “I’m not alone.” Seeing the doubt in John’s features and getting the unspoken hint that Oliver could be lonely in a room full of people, he said, “I’ll go home with Thea—if I don’t time jump.” “I’m sure you won’t,” his friend said, sounding sure. “I didn’t really understand the science, but our three geniuses worked hard on countering the effects of Bellamy.” Hearing the name shocked Oliver. He had forgotten about the Meta! He had been too absorbed in his own drama to think of him. “Bellamy! I have to—” “Do nothing,” Barry cut in. “We locked him up a week ago. Guess how surprised we were to find you had trouble with him.” Oliver really, really hated time travel. Not to mention that Bellamy being neutralized already felt weirdly anti-climatic and strangely unsatisfying. Oliver wished he could’ve confronted him again, locked him up himself. The distaste must’ve shown on Oliver’s face, since John gave his shoulder a heavy pat, “Don’t even try to make sense of it; it’s crazy.” His eyes danced between the two other men, “If anything comes up, call me, okay?” Oliver nodded. “Merry Christmas, John.” “Merry Christmas,” John answered, gave Barry a nod, and headed over to the others for a quick goodbye. “Here,” Barry caught Oliver’s attention, holding a mug out to him. “I don’t care much for eggnog.” “It’s Christmas,” Barry countered as if that was the only argument needed, not lowering the mug, looking at Oliver expectantly. The two men stared at each other. Barry’s gaze was a playful challenge while Oliver answered with open rejection—and it was the realization of that difference, the memory of a future Christmas Eve spent alone and lonely that made Oliver give in. Maybe this was the first step for preventing the future he had visited from ever happening, not rejecting his friend’s offer. (It also might not mean anything in the grand scheme of things, but it most definitely couldn’t hurt.) Finally, Oliver let go of his bow. Carefully, he put it onto the DNA-sequencer and took the offered eggnog to click mugs with the Speedster. (He was still in his full costume, and Oliver couldn’t fault Barry for not wanting to reveal his identity to Donna.) Taking the tiniest sip confirmed Oliver’s earlier claim: he didn’t care much for eggnog. He swallowed and glanced around the room, finding everybody in conversation. It was an unfamiliar sight, but he really liked it. Normally people weren’t this causal in the Bunker. Letting loose around here meant training without a specific opponent in mind. Thinking of it now, it made sense to Oliver that somebody not part of his inner circle initiated it. He made a silent vow to turn the gathering on Christmas into a tradition. “Thank you,” Oliver said, “that was a nice idea.” “I seemed like you all needed a little break.” Oliver huffed a confirmation. It felt like truer words had never been spoken. For a short moment both men stood next to each other, silent, looking ahead. The events of the previous hours filled Oliver’s mind, knowing that it would bug him forever paired with his trust in Barry made him confess, “I went to the future.” He felt his friend stiffen next to him, but continued, speaking quietly and calmly. “What I found there… wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for.” He turned to face the man dressed in his red suit, “My older self told me that nothing good comes from knowing the future—and that I should just ask you.” Barry swallowed heavily. Finally he said, even quieter than Oliver, “I accidentally went to the future a few days ago. I saw…” His voice cracked and he seemed to settle for, “my worst nightmare.” Another heavy second followed, then determination captured Barry. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders, and looked Oliver in the eyes as he stated, “I’ll stop that from happening.” “Didn’t you tell me that time wants to happen? Back when we fought Vandal Savage.” (Back when Oliver started making the mistake that apparently defined his future.) “That was the past,” Barry explained. “You can’t change things that have already happened. But the future isn’t set yet. We have our own future in our hands.” There was a certain urgency in his voice that sounded like desperate determination. “We control our own future.” Slowly, Oliver nodded. He did so in support for Barry as well as in acknowledgement of his words. Whatever Barry had seen in his future, it had shaken him to his core. Oliver could relate to that perfectly. As he could relate to the desperate need to feel like you had control over your own life. Getting a glimpse of what lay ahead of him felt life-changing and brought the need to make a choice. Oliver could either be disheartened by what he had seen, just give in and give up, or he could step up, take charge, and make some life-changing decisions. Oliver, of course, had always been too stubborn to simply accept things. Suddenly the echo of words he had heard even though they hadn’t been spoken yet vibrated through him; a shiver followed them. “He never time travelled.” “What?” Barry frowned. “My older self. He told me that he never time travelled.” He fixed Barry. “He should remember that, right? If it happened in his past, shouldn’t he… gain the memories or something?” “I…,” Barry hesitated and finally settled for, “Probably.” Seeing Oliver’s stare, he added a shrug, “I’m not sure, man. I always kept my memories, but it was always me changing time, so…. Probably.” After staring at his friend for another long moment, Oliver nodded. He’d take that answer, gladly, because “probably” brought a possibility along. “I might’ve already changed the future.” His heart felt lighter. Oliver knew that he was taking a chance, but he had risked things on ‘maybes’ so many times before—a “probably” felt like better odds already. “Yeah,” Barry agreed and asked, compassionately, “Was it that bad?” “It was really… dark.” Saying those words, Oliver’s eyes landed on Felicity, pulled to her by an invisible force. As if his glance held weight, she turned to him, meeting his eyes. “I see.” The softness in Barry’s voice gave Oliver the impression that his friend really understood—and it reminded him of something, “Where’s Iris?” The question startled Barry. “At home.” “Why didn’t you bring her?” “Well, it’s your secret lair, your secret identity. And, believe me, I get that it’s your decision who you want to tell. Plus,” Barry smiled that smile that made him look younger than he was, “she said she wanted to start packing.” He paused and added, sounding happy, “We’re moving in together.” “Wow,” Felicity said, joining them. Oliver had felt her approach as well as seen it. She always had her own gravitational field to Oliver. His eyes stayed glued to her. His body attuned to hers. She looked gorgeous in a black dress, embellished with gold, and not even the knowledge that she had put it on with another man in mind could take away the effect the sight had on him. Neither could the fact that she avoided his gaze by looking at Barry. “That’s quick—but I guess speeding things up fits you.” She smirked, taking the sting out of her words. “And I’m hardly one to talk: Oliver and I moved in together after six weeks. But, to be fair, that whole thing had been one and a half years in the making.” She flinched, the eggnog sloshing in the mug she held. Talking quicker, she continued, “But I guess you and Iris have even more history—and you already lived together for years. So, you should know what to expect.” She bit her lower lip, suddenly awkward. Oliver hadn’t seen that gesture in a long time. When he had met Felicity, it had been a constant in their interactions, but it had become less and less frequent—just like her habit of stumbling over her words. Now it only happened when Felicity was nervous, when her mind was occupied by things she didn’t want to address, when her emotions were raw. Barry remained unfazed. “That’s true. It really was about time.” He lifted his mug. “I’ll get some more eggnog.” His reaction proved that Barry knew Felicity, too. With one last smile he made his way over to the punch bowl, leaving the other two in an awkward silence. Digging his brain for a way to start the conversation and playing for time, Oliver took a sip of his eggnog. Tasting the awfully sweet and creamy drink, he shuddered. “I know…. Turns out, Team Arrow is very anti-Nog.” Felicity gestured to Thea trying and failing to inconspicuously set her mug on the conference table. “It’s a Team Flash thing.” “I guess pouring it out would be impolite.” “And people say you have no manners.” The teasing was clearly audible in Felicity’s voice, it also showed in the way her eyes sparkled. Oliver enjoyed seeing it, enjoyed the banter but couldn’t join in. Serious, he stated, “Well, I did eavesdrop tonight.” That was an awful way to start the conversation he wanted to have. He realized it as soon as the words left his lips. But now they were out in the open and all Oliver could do was power on. He met Felicity’s eyes, “I apologize. At first I wanted to find out what year I had jumped into, but then…. I’m really sorry, I know nothing was meant for me to hear.” Felicity hesitated. “When did you start listening?” “When you uncorked the wine.” “Wow.” Felicity took a huge sip of her eggnog—and made the most adorable disgusted face. Oliver kept his face even, this wasn’t the right moment to smile. “I know,” he agreed to everything she’d expressed with one word. “Felicity,” he said softly, gaining her full attention, “your mother’s right. You are not defined by a man—you are much too remarkable. I know that you referred to what we’re doing here and your need to make up for things that really weren’t your fault when you said you don’t know who you are on your own…. But being Overwatch doesn’t define you either. You are too smart and too skilled to reduce your life to what’s happening in this Bunker. You told me you wanted more out of life—and I think you shouldn’t lose sight of that. Even if that means starting a family with a guy named Grant in Coast City.” “What?” While listening to him, Felicity’s eyes had turned soft, but now she blinked, surprised. “Who? What?” A silent curse made Oliver press his lips together. That wasn’t exactly the point he had wanted to make. Even if that information was very prominently on his mind, he was mad at himself for letting it slip. “I mean,” he said, detouring, “whatever feels right for you moving forward from here, I’ll deal with it.” He couldn’t say ‘be okay with it’, because he knew he wouldn’t be. He had seen that he couldn’t. “Still….” Felicity said, using her talent to unerringly tug at the strand of conversation Oliver didn’t want to follow, “Grant in Coast City… that feels awfully specific.” Oliver sighed, knowing he couldn’t not answer without breaking his honesty vow. “I jumped to 2026, met myself, and he told me you’d moved to Coast City with a guy named Grant. He also said you were spending Christmas Eve with your family.” “Wow.” Felicity visibly searched for words, then she frowned. “Coast City is a very tech-friendly city. They launched a project for city-wide, free WiFi, aiming for 50 mbps—which is ambitious but doable. I heard that Kord Industries wants to open a subsidiary there and that really makes sense. If you want to start somewhere in our branch of industry, you should start there.” Her eyes lit up, “Did I start that start-up I’m thinking about? Did older Oliver tell you?” A pang raced through Oliver. Hearing her obvious excitement was disheartening. Instantly, he felt bad, selfish. It had been months she had shown excitement about anything, which was a pity because an excited Felicity was one of the best things in his life. He shook his head. “No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t say anything else. He only let that information slip by accident.” “Sounds like some things never change.” Feeling caught and chided, Oliver pressed his lips together, glancing at the floor. It was justified, he knew. Still, Felicity tensed next to him, her hand closed around her mug, the excitement gone in a heartbeat. An awkward silence settled over them. This time Felicity ended it, admitting, “It’s weird, getting that glimpse into the future—and I didn’t even time travel and meet my older self.” An interested spark in her eyes, she asked, “What’s Oldiver like?” Swallowing all the dismissive things that danced on the tip of his tongue, he said, “Nothing like I ever want to become.” Slowly, Felicity nodded. “But his suit’s cool,” Oliver added, feeling the need to lighten the mood. Silence followed. Again. Oliver hated how stiff and searching this conversation was when Felicity and he had always been able to talk to each other. They had always known what to say to the other one—and it couldn’t be any other way. Actually, it wasn’t. Oliver knew perfectly what he wanted to tell Felicity. He cleared his throat, chasing a lump away. “I got a good look at my life tonight. I saw that I have to change some things; I want to change some things, do things differently—and I know I already said that last year….” He sighed, feeling like a broken record, like every step of progress he had ever made had never been permanent, always a fluke, always destroyed by falling back into single-minded patterns. All the second chances he had already been granted crashed down on him in that moment, making him doubt that he deserved yet another one. “You already did things differently tonight.” Felicity’s soft voice cut into his depressed thoughts. “You didn’t have to reveal yourself to my mom—or tell her about William.” “I wanted her to know. I want you to be able to talk to Donna without barriers.” “Depending on the pressure point, I don’t know if my mom can keep your secret.” “Felicity, I saw your mom stand up to Cooper. I know Smoak women can handle pressure. And I’m absolutely sure: if the situation comes and she cracks, I’m okay with it.” A blush crept onto Felicity’s cheeks that made her look even prettier. Now it was her trying to lift the mood. “We should still try to keep her from ever getting into such a situation.” “We will,” Oliver promised, meaning it. Felicity looked at him closely. He could practically see the thoughts piling up and running through her head. She licked her lips in that nervous habit he knew so well. “You apologized. For lying.” He frowned. Why did she feel like she had to mention that? He had apo— No, he suddenly realized, a cold shiver of shock freezing him, he hadn’t! He had never actually told her how sorry he was—for… everything. His voice was hoarse, talking around a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow down, “I should have apologized a long time ago. I was a bad teammate.” This time the following silence had a different quality. The positivity attached to it was proven by Felicity smiling and pointing her index finger at him. “That is doing things differently.” “I don’t want to fall back into old habits. I’m determined not to default to the man who was on the island alone anymore.” Biting her lip, her eyes shining, Felicity nodded. Oliver, on the other hand, stayed serious. He wasn’t just quoting her words back to her, he was absolutely serious about every word he said and he needed her to know that. Her reaction gave him the impression that she did. It made Oliver suddenly feel lighter… hopeful. There it was again, right in front of him: a possibility that his future might be brighter than he dared to imagine, another second chance he didn’t deserve but he wanted more than anything to finally, finally make things right. To be the better, honest, loyal teammate the woman he loved deserved. “Felicity?” His lips moved without much thought, following the hope roaming inside him, daring to do another thing differently and actively pursue what he wanted, to fight for his own future. “Would you go to dinner with me?” Surprised, she looked at him. Then her features softened, a small smile lit up her beautiful face. “Not yet.” (The End)

Tagging the wonderful @marniforolicity [you are amazing, thank you!] @islandgirlbabble @jacksos1

[thinktwice222]

‘Put crap here:’

I think crap might be my favorite swear, that and the presumptuous ‘shit’. keeping track today? finishing the bowl from yesterday.

Went to skate last night, showed up and was totally out of my leugue and it was packed.  The people that I did know (2) were skating like big boys and I am a baby, in all sense of the word.  My greatest feat last night was cutting across the park to join our small group.  Everyone acknowledged my walk across (for those whose path I was crossing).  No being invisible there.  

Sometimes if there is really talking ‘in confidence’ anymore.  The world is weirdly interconnected, where sharing is relating, the more you share the more you relate.  What a weird world.  I always think of Daria’s Sick Sad World, what an appropriate name. 

What if we project our sickness?

One thing I hate about america is our single use culture.  It caters to our lifestyle in such a backward way. singular is for efficiency,but no one only wants 1 dollar.

right now my favorite item in our kitchen is chili pepper infused honey.  It’s dumb that this is a product on a shelf and not just a recipe. Such a weird culture. I’ll take one single use infused honey, thank you.  I have infused honey with ginger, and another root before.

Skate park last night sucked, at least I got out there and saw that I’m going to have to scope out a time when no one is there.  I talked to the uber driver about it, citing my folly of taking a car there only to take one directly back.  He advised me that I need to just go and do it, ‘you are there for skateboarding, not them’ and ‘Just get in line, everyone has their turn’, which he was definitely right about turn taking but when you can’t do an ollie yet, you probably don’t have that much business being in a semi-packed skate park with no basic learners.  I don’t have those kinds of balls yet.

One thing that people don’t tell you is that life is work, well, maybe that has become a relatively new trend.  As sympathetic creatures, with advancing technology, any maintenance to the body seems to be a yoke among the shoulders. And I spent a hard time ignoring all those maintenance lights as they blink, weirdly too often for my taste.  My day’s response is, “again?” Sometimes I hope this is the grand stationing of my Saturn in my chart.  In that line of thought, i think I do realize it will take dedication of my whole life to get where I want to be or some vague notion of that.  That’s the one dream that is keeping me on this uphill battle.  It’s only been an uphill battle because the people who I loved and my work was devoted to was not acknowledge as a possible path. 

 1.) questioning of my skills 2.) disapproving of my subject of interest.

I did what I could with what they gave me, if they wanted me to be something else they should have actually spent time with (not at) me, like a parent does with their child. Maybe investing time to empower and encourage me in my struggles, how about just taking time to know my struggles.  Their marriage was a bigger thing to focus on though. So distracting that I started working on the problem, and maybe my hate of it all made me drive them farther apart. Whatever, after my mom told me that she had my siblings after she decided she wasn’t going to have a, “spoiled brat for an only child”.  Funny enough she acts like she didn’t get what she wanted, looking for me to be the brat she is subjected to.  Class act.    I won’t feed any of her desires, and I won’t be her savior. I tried everything and all she did was get meaner.  

And we have a lot of anger in our family.

The best thing I could really do is just let everything she does or says bounce off of me and laugh, but it takes a very strong person to not let an intelligent, tenacious and bored mother get under your skin.  I need to be rock solid, and on top of all that, I can’t be caught off guard by seeing her age.  Old people (although cute and innocent looking) are still the same people. I have a great admiration for older women too.  I need to become something I admire, but when I think of that I just see her clamping onto me like some kind of parasite and using my achievement to hurt herself with.  literally no way to win, that why I left, I don’t want to be competitive with her, I’m not trying to be, I’m just trying to live my life without her destroying it out of jealousy.

Onto the second bowl.  I have work at 4:30.  I hope its with my collab coworker, who I did/do have a crush on (yay, for feelings at a distance), his gf is awesome (probably more awesome, don’t tell him I said that). eh they are both cool.  Anyways I get along with him the most out of my coworkers, that and my manager but manager/friend is definitely more particular than me.  Which I could probably keep up to pretty well. It’d go like this;

He’d be on task, and I’ll let him know to keep certain chores to the side for myself.

I’m not a slacker but I get things done as I see fit to,  Most times I plant my feet into the ground when people are anxiously doing stuff.

Just went into a mental rabbit hole of astrology.  I was just thinking about my grand air trine and it’s ruler Saturn. I have a pretty interesting chart.

That just drained so much of my energy by only getting distracted in one of my favorite hobbies. I just realized I was resting my toe weird and now it feels weird, except I don’t know where.... oh wait, now i know where I was resting it.  It’s comfy, it’s the edge of my magazine rack. Is this what it is to be distracted? Embarrassment also turns my mind inward, my reaction was to talking about astrology and wanting to switch topics. Four more hours.

You know that feeling when your doing something and you wondered why you spent valuable time like this watching T.v?  My excuses never cut it, maybe they should.  To not take action is almost a sin in my book, and I’m it’s main offender.  Not sure if it stemmed from a positive outlook. Did I tell you that my family had cps called on them?  I wasn’t invited to the family interview, and I wasn’t told about it until way later. I still can’t get over it because I don’t know if it was legit, and I am absolutely pissed I wasn't interviewed because I have had some things to say.  What I would have said, would it have had worse implications than the family deciding to let her drink herself to death (her own interest). What a weird way to go.  Shes the one who ultimately wants to be the literal skeleton in our family.  What do you even do with that? Maybe I can call an elderly abuse number... I’m not sure if that is better, but it’s change, some kind of implication. I want her to see her actions in a new light.  such a great idea, I almost texted someone about it and gave them the emotional burden of researching it.  I think this is why I make for a good art critic, I hold the artist emotionally responsible for their work.

I think the worst part of this issue I had with my parents is that they didn’t leave me alone at college and that they gave me their first observation of my life and their thoughts of is trajectory.  Welling going to school for business isn’t really that specific, but it was enough for me to double back and get stuck plowing through what I thought I wanted.  Then I had to re-access who I even thought I was.  You want to fuck someone over, more specifically if you want me to be fucked over, this is how you do it.  Luckily I don’t have anymore intense connections that could shake everything like that again, but maybe only color it.  

Like most people I forget to drink water all the time, first of all I’m not thirsty until i am very thirsty and second, there are only so many oasisi in the desert of the mind. You have to create them. I should give myself a rolls-royce , I know why I want it (perceived luxury, name and riches) and that’s why I’d have it in a non-functioning environment, like sand dunes.  Maybe give it some skis.....  How do I not want the riches, when that’s the only reason I have some back to live in the city. Actually I want the friend’s, that’s why I’m in the city.  I want to make the friends, make the collabs, make the connections, make the money, make the change, empower.  

soon

I need to update my instagram