#she was cool with killing ten year old luke until she had a last minute change of heart

[kittenfangirl20]

I don’t hate Reva, in fact I am rather indifferent to her, but I can assure you that if you do what antianakin want that will only make so pretty much no one will watch the show since Reva was such a controversial character. They say that they don’t want Anakin mentioned or to appear in the show, but I bet they wouldn’t have a problem with every character patting Reva on the back and telling her that she is right to hate Anakin even though in Phantom Menace it is said that hate will lead to suffering. I bet they also wouldn’t mind if there was a scene where Reva proudly declares she never killed a child and then have a flashback where Reva hesitates in killing a child and Vader just magically jumps in and kills the child while we have an extreme close up of Reva sobbing uncomfortably while Vader kills the child even though this wouldn’t make any sense. Reva was a person who was fine with kidnapping Leia in order to draw out Obi-Wan and was very close to killing Luke, so she definitely killed children, yet Anakin Haters love her even though we are constantly told that they hate him because he killed the younglings at the Jedi Temple. In fact I think it would have made more sense if Obi-Wan had been forced to kill Reva in order to protect Luke.

[ghostboybabies]

little ghost boy || [JATP Agere/CGLRE]- “Hide and Seek” (Chapter 4)

Luke had been searching for Reggie for at least ten minutes.

He knew that was the whole point of hide and seek, but it genuinely scared him when he couldn't find him! And Reggie was pretty good at curling up in small spaces and hiding away.

"Baby?" He called out.

He walked by Julie's room, pausing. "You're not supposed to be in there..." he paused, taking a breath before deciding to check anyways.

Of course, he found Reggie sitting on Julie's bed. "Buddy, you know Julie would kill you if she was the one to find you in here, right?" he gave him a 'you should know better' look, approaching him and sitting next to him on the bed.

"But you find me! Just hiding..." he said innocently.

"Yeah, but this room is off limits, okay?"

Reggie regressed quite a bit now that Luke had offered to take care of him. They'd usually go hang out in some empty place and play games until Reggie was big again or got sleepy. Luke stopped trying to push Reggie to tell the others because he knew it wasn't doing anything but upsetting him. When Reggie was ready, he'd help him do it.

But for now, he'd help him keep him secret. As long as he could, anyways.

Reggie pouted nodding. "Sorry." he mumbled.

"You're okay, rockstar. Julie's not home right now so you weren't hurting anything, but if she was she would've been pretty upset."

Luke knew it would've been a disaster if she caught Reggie in her room, especially while he was regressed. While he didn't like yelling in general, yelling at him would probably result in tears and anxiety.

"Mad at me?" The regressor looked down, hugging himself a bit.

"But she's not home! So no one is mad at you!" he assured, quickly shifting the conversation once he realized what he insinuated. Reggie looked up, humming.

"Mkay. No coming in here." he said aloud, as if reminding himself.

"That's right, baby. Let's go play another round, okay?"

Reggie didn't get the chance to respond, because they heard the front door open, and quick footsteps up the stairs. Reggie took Luke's hand quickly, whimpering. Luke was shocked by two things.  First of all, Julie was gonna see Reggie regressed for the first time. And also, how did Julie get up the stairs so fast?

He didn't even process what was happening, and it was to late to poof them out by the time he did.

"Why are you in my room?" she opened her door, her eyes immediately falling on the two boys hold hands on her bed. She looked around behind her, before entering the room fully and shutting the door behind her. She let her bag slide off of her arms and drop by the door, crossing her arms and looking between the two boys for an explanation.

"Julie! Hi...I thought you were going to Flynn's house after school?" Luke asked, trying to redirect the conversation. He squeezed Reggie's hand in reassurance, because the poor boy currently looked so scared.

"She had a thing," she corrected. "Why are you in here? I told you, it's off limits unless I let you in here." Luke's redirection only lasted a few seconds. Reggie stayed quiet, wanting to hide away. It was so hard to repress regression when he had already slipped.

"Sorry, Jules. We were doing something and I came in here..." Reggie had a hard time keeping his voice level, and "big", but he tried his best. "Luke already told me that I shouldn't have and we were gonna leave!" he explained, quickly. He looked down again, pulling his hand away from Luke's.

Luke seemed concerned. Reggie told him that repressing regression wasn't good for him and he hated to see him feel like he had to do that.

"What were you doing though? What reason is there to come in here?" she asked. Reggie started to close in on himself, casting his eyes down. In the eyes of five year old him, she was gonna start yelling any minute now.

He did something bad and now she was mad at him. "I'm sorry!" he said, his voice falling into that babyish pitch before he could stop himself. He shut his mouth quickly, looking around him to see Luke's face of pity, and Julie's face of confusion.

He needed to get out of there.

So he did. He simply teleported to the studio, which was a lot more difficult when he was mentally a child.

--

"What happened? Did I make him cry?" Julie was the first to speak once Reggie disappeared. Now she felt bad. She didn't even yell, and yet, she scared him. She didn't really understand what she had done to upset him, or that he was currently more sensitive then he'd usually be.

"Um..okay. Sit down, I guess I should try and explain."

"Yeah, you should," she nodded, coming to sit next to him.

"He can tell you more later, because I want to go make sure he's okay...but he does this thing called age regression. He's like, mentally a little kid for a little bit, a-and I kinda take care of him?"

Her face softened. "Oh! I've heard of that. I-i didn't know-"

"It's okay! He's just a lot more sensitive when he's like this and any sign of someone being upset with him makes him feel bad. He apologizes for everything. So I'm kinda really soft of him, and if you're going to interact with him while he's little, then you should too." he explained.

Julie nodded. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is he just afraid that I'm mad at him?" she questioned.

"Basically, yeah. He's also kinda scared that someones gonna yell at him, his parents used to when he did something 'wrong'. It'd probably help a lot if you told him yourself that you're not mad, he already felt bad about coming in here."

Julie nodded again, "Of course." she said softly. "What were you two doing though?"

Luke's face went pink. "Well- he likes playing games and stuff and we were playing hide and seek!"

"Awe, you play with him?" Julie asked, speaking in a teasing tone. Luke rolled his eyes.

"Of course, he's a toddler!" he defended.

"Still, it's sweet that you care about him." she smiled at him. She held her hand out. "Lead the way?"

Luke smiled, taking her hand and pulling her along.

--

Reggie sat in the loft, legs pulled up to his chest. He curled up, rocking back and forth slowly in an attempt to calm himself down. There was a small part of his brain telling him that crying over this was stupid.

But he felt bad. And scared.

If Julie found him, she was gonna be mad! She was gonna yell and tell him that he's stupid and-

"Baby? Are you in here?" his thoughts were interrupted by his friends voice. He let himself take a deep breath, feeling a little safer in his presence. That relief went away when he realized that there were two pairs of feet walking around the studio.

"He's up there," Luke whispered to Julie, pointing up the the loft. "I'll go first." he said.

Julie nodded. "Awe, rockstar. Come here," Luke spoke in a soft, comforting voice once he was up there, coming to sit in front of him. He opened his arms. Reggie hesitantly uncurled himself, falling into Luke's embrace. Luke wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tightly.

"You're okay," he whispered, rubbing his back again. He pulled away after a few moments. "No one is mad at you, baby. I talked to Julie, everything's okay." he assured.

Reggie bit on his lip, seemingly confused. "I told her about the whole littlespace thing, she's cool with it. Like I said she would be. And she's not mad at you, she isn't gonna yell."

"Weally?" Reggie sniffled a bit, looking up at him nervously.

"Why don't you ask her?" he turned to look back at the girl in question, who stood at the top of the ladder. He made a motion with his head and she climbed into the loft completely, coming forward to sit next to Luke.

She had so many questions about all of this. But right now, all she knew was that she had upset her friend.

And she really, really wanted to fix it.

Reggie looked at her nervously, biting on his thumbnail and waiting for her to talk. "I'm not upset with you. Next time, just ask before going in my room, okay?" she spoke softly, not quite knowing how to deal with him as a kid.

Reggie nodded. "I'm sorry I went in there! I-i was hidin' and I didn' mean to break a rule, I pwomise!" he pouted, speaking in a tone he hoped would convince her.

She smiled a bit, "I'm sure you didn't. Just keep that in mind for next time and everything's good, okay?"

Reggie nodded quickly, agreeing to those terms. Luke seemed pretty happy watching their reaction. The girl he liked was good with this "weird" part of his friend. He was glad that he didn't have to deal with someone being judgmental.

"Hug?" she asked, holding out her arms.

Reggie seemed hesitant, like she was going to revoke the offer. When she didn't, he rushed into her arms, cuddling into her chest. "Cuddles!" he giggled. Julie couldn't help but smile at that.

"He really likes affection," Luke told Julie. "Don't ya', bud?" he spoke to Reggie, who was still hugging Julie. He nodded, hugging Julie just a bit tighter.

"I can tell," she chuckled, not letting go of the baby in her arms. He wasn't technically a baby, but Julie figured that he was as fragile as one. "Why don't we watch a movie or something? You can pick which one we watch!" she spoke in an excited voice, finally pulling away from the hug after a bit.

"Watch um..." Reggie paused, looking at Luke for help. He was pouting, due to the fact that he didn't remember what the movie he had in mind was called. "Pretty princess!" he exclaimed, seemingly frustrated.

Luke laughed. "Pretty dress or pretty hair?" he asked.

"Pretty hair." he whined, with his arms crossed, and a pout on his face.

"He wants to watch Tangled." Luke told Julie.

"Oh! Yeah, dat one!" Reggie confirmed. He giggled a bit.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll go grab my laptop and some blankets, okay?" she looked to Luke, who nodded.

"We'll be in here."

Reggie would have a conversation with Julie about his regression, just as he had with Luke. He wasn't planning on telling Julie, but just like Luke, she reacted well and did what she could to help even if she didn't completely understand what was happening. Maybe, just maybe, Reggie would get the courage to talk to Alex about this soon.

That way, he could be open about this part of him completely. But first, his bandmates needed to know. They were the people he was closest to in his afterlife, and once he told them, he'd be able to regress fairly openly.

As of today, two out of the three knew.  Only one more person to tell. One more anxiety-inducing conversation to have. One more confession.

Two down, one to go.

--

A/N: okay so I'm trying not to make this story go by to quick, I promise! There's a insinuated time skip between Luke first finding out and Julie finding out, I just didn't write a lot of the inbetween stuff. anyways, do you guys like how I'm developing Luke and Reggie's CGLRE dynamic? or, do you have any other feedback to give? please leave a comment!

[spoookymuulders]

you make my heart beat like the rain

read it on ao3 here word count: 3600 warnings: mentions of abuse summary: The air smells damp - it definitely rained last night, and it’ll probably rain more today, judging by the dark clouds above and the gloomy gray sky. As he trudges through the dewy grass, the sounds of the cows waking up makes him smile. He tugs the doors to the barn open, inhaling slowly. He takes in, for the millionth time, just how lucky he is to be where he is. This ranch has been home for the past ten years, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the universe.

chapter one. i’m a new soul i came to this strange town. in which spencer reid makes a friend.

           Early morning sunlight filters through the curtains, dust motes dancing in the rays as they make puddles of light on the floor and across the bed. Spencer Reid rolls over with a yawn and smacks at his alarm clock, burrowing his face back into his pillow for a few more minutes before he drags himself out of his cozy nest of blankets and shuffles to the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. He pokes at a few buttons on the coffee maker, waiting to make sure it’s actually brewing before padding back to his room to get dressed for the day.

           By the time he emerges again, this time fully dressed and at least a little more awake thanks to the cool morning air, the coffee is done brewing. It fills the whole house with its heady scent, and he hums sleepily. Pouring some into his faded travel mug, he dumps his sugar in and swirls it a few times before setting it on the counter. As the sugar dissolves, he tugs on his muck boots and jacket, zipping it up and heading outside.

           The air smells damp - it definitely rained last night, and it’ll probably rain more today, judging by the dark clouds above and the gloomy gray sky. As he trudges through the dewy grass, the sounds of the cows waking up makes him smile. He tugs the doors to the barn open, inhaling slowly. He takes in, for the millionth time, just how lucky he is to be where he is. This ranch has been home for the past ten years, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the universe.

           “Morning, ladies.” He calls, moving through the barn and patting each of his cows on the nose gently. They moo in response and he grins when Rosie nudges her head against his hand. He scratches between her ears lightly before going to open the doors leading out to the pasture. He repeats this motion on the other side of the barn, letting the horses out as well. He shuffles around doing what needs to be done - cleaning up the stalls, refilling the feed - then heads back inside.

           Spencer’s ranch sits on 40 acres of land - it’s a lot for one man to handle, but he handles it just fine, thank you very much. Having the cows and horses helps with the mowing, at least. His house is modestly sized - too big for one man by himself , JJ had said once, but he’d countered that with the fact that most of their get-togethers are held on the ranch so having a bigger house means he can accommodate more people, as well as the fact that most of the kids in their little makeshift family love having sleepovers at the ranch.

           Shuffling back inside and nudging the door shut behind himself, Spencer tugs off his muck boots and abandons them in the mudroom. His coffee has cooled off enough now that he doesn’t scald his tongue when he takes a sip. Settling at the kitchen table, he drags his notepad closer and scribbles down what he needs to do for the day;

Grocery shopping

Send mom’s letter

Stop by flower shop, bring Will’s birthday present

           Not too many things to do, thankfully. He starts on his grocery list next, mumbling under his breath as he putters around the kitchen and adds things to it. Looks like a big shopping trip this time. Which is fine, he doesn’t mind. And he’s hosting Will’s birthday party on Saturday anyways (with Dave’s help, of course), so he’ll need things for that, too. JJ had assured him she’d bring the decorations, and Dave had insisted on cooking as always, which Spencer has no problem with. Cooking for himself he can do. Cooking for himself plus almost thirty other people on the other hand..

           Stifling a yawn behind his hand, he tosses his notepad back onto the table and pads into his room to change again. He abandons his heavy flannel and scuffed jeans, tossing them into the hamper and climbing into the shower. He hums to himself as he washes his hair, trying to think of anything else he might’ve missed when making up his grocery list. Satisfied that there’s nothing, he hops out of the shower and shakes his hair out, wrapping a towel around himself and padding out to his dresser.

           He pulls on fresh jeans and a button down, digging a cardigan out of his closet and pulling his Chucks on. He stuffs his wallet into his pocket and heads back out, grabbing his peacoat and keys and heading for the truck. He flicks the radio to a classical station, humming along softly as strains of Beethoven fill the cab of the truck. The drive into town takes about ten minutes, and with the leaves changing the way they are, it’s gorgeous.

           Driving through Callahan, Maine (population 400) before everyone wakes up is one of his favorite things in the world. It’s seven-thirty now, most of the town waking slowly, kids getting ready for school, parents getting ready for work. His first stop today is JJ’s flower shop. She’s outside already - Will must be at home with Henry this morning - and she looks up from where she’s setting out a wooden crate as the truck rumbles to a halt outside, waving with a broad smile.

           “Morning, Spence.” She calls as he climbs out of the truck. She turns to pick up another crate, passing it to Spencer when he returns her greeting and holds his hands out. “I see we’re going full Doctor Reid today, huh?” She teases gently.

           “Where d’you want this one?” He asks, laughing softly, then sets it behind the one she’d just put down when she points. “How are Will and Henry?”

           “They’re good! Henry’s all excited about Halloween.” She says, dusting her hands on her jeans. “Wonder who’s fault that is.” Spencer grins at her, his nose crinkling - as godfather, Spencer had taken it upon himself from the day Henry was born to instill a love of all things spooky in the boy.

           “Did he decide what he wants to be yet?” He asks, stuffing his hands into his pockets as JJ scoops up the hose and starts misting the flowers.

           “Not yet. We’ve narrowed it down to Spiderman or Luke Skywalker.” JJ laughs. Spencer chuckles, then jogs back to the truck and grabs Will’s present from the passenger seat. He holds it out when he returns and JJ takes it, looking it over. “Oh, he’s gonna love this, Spence, this is great!” Spencer grins proudly, stuffing his hands back into his pockets and rocking on his feet.

           They chat for a few more minutes, and as Spencer says goodbye and goes to leave, JJ makes a sudden noise and calls for him to wait a moment.

           “Hey, are you gonna be driving by the B&B by any chance?” She asks, tipping her head. Spencer nods.

           “I’ve gotta go that way, yeah. You need me to drop something off?” He asks.

           “Would you mind?” JJ asks. Spencer shakes his head and she grins, hurrying back inside and returning a moment later with two bouquets. “Thank you so much, Spence, I’ve been meaning to bring these by but I just haven’t had a chance.” Spencer waves a hand, taking the bouquets and moving back to the truck. JJ calls a farewell as he climbs in and pulls away from the curb, one he returns with a wave. In his rearview mirror, he can see an old VW Bug take his spot, a young brunette climbing out and hurrying to hug JJ.

           The bed and breakfast is across town, at the corner of Wilson Street and Harker Road. The house it occupies sat empty and abandoned for a long, long time - up until Aaron Hotchner (call him Hotch, please and thank you) and his son Jack moved in a few years ago. They’d moved to town after Hotch’s wife had been killed in a home invasion, something which Penelope Garcia had found after about five minutes of searching. They needed a fresh start, Hotch had said when Penelope had insisted on throwing them a welcoming party - at the ranch of course, because where else would it be?

           The B&B had become something of a passion project for Hotch. Spencer had been more than willing to let Hotch and Jack stay with him while Hotch worked on fixing up the old Mills house in town, with the help of their very own Derek Morgan. Hotch and Jack had endeared themselves to their little family quite quickly, and they had been welcomed in with open arms.

           As he parks, Jack is leaping down the porch stairs and sprinting to the corner, waving over his shoulder as Hotch stands at the railing. Jack shouts a greeting as he runs past Spencer, backpack bouncing against his back as he hurries to catch the bus. Spencer gathers the bouquets from the front seat and heads for the stairs.

           “Morning, Reid.” Hotch says as Spencer makes his way towards him.

           “Hey, Hotch.” Spencer returns, holding out the bouquets. “JJ asked me to drop these off.” Hotch swallows his mouthful of coffee and takes a bouquet, gesturing for Spencer to follow him inside. Spencer trails along behind him, looking around absently as Hotch leads him into the kitchen.

           “Can I get you some coffee?” Hotch asks, reaching for the pot on the counter.

           “Oh, no thanks, Hotch, I’ve gotta run some other errands.” Spencer says, setting his bouquet on the table. Hotch nods and gives Spencer the check for the flowers, then sees the younger man out. He hovers on the porch as Spencer pulls away, honking the horn once and waving out the window.

****

           When Spencer returns to Roz’s Garden some two and a half hours later, it’s to see JJ standing at the counter with a young woman with a yellow cast on her left wrist and a pale pink sundress that just barely brushes her knees. As JJ sees him and waves and the young woman with her turns around, Spencer feels his heart jump into his throat - because good God she’s gorgeous .

           Her dark hair is pulled into a braid over one shoulder, tendrils of curls framing her face delicately. Her eyes are impossibly blue and warm and her lips are impossibly pink and the white cardigan she wears over her sundress complements the tan of her skin so beautifully Spencer thinks he could weep. He clears his throat a little and moves further into the shop, holding out the check Hotch had given him earlier and making note of the way the girl keeps her eyes on him, her whole frame tense.

           “Hotch asked me to drop this off on my way back out to the ranch.” He says, stopping beside the girl. JJ thanks him and tucks the check into the register and leans on the counter again.

           “Spence, this is my best friend from Pennsylvania, Zoe. Zoe, this is Spencer Reid.” JJ says, looking between the two of them with a smile. Zoe offers a small wave, shifting to face Spencer properly.

           “It’s nice to meet you.” She says, her voice soft and gentle and exactly what Spencer imagines a fairy might sound like.

           “I - yeah, you too!” He says, giving her a small smile. She returns it almost nervously and Spencer shuffles his feet. “Are you just visiting, or?”

           “Zoe’s moving to town!” JJ says brightly, reaching over to squeeze Zoe’s shoulder lightly. Zoe looks at her with a small smile and nods. “She’s gonna stay over at the B&B.”

           “Just until I can find a place of my own.” Zoe says quickly, looking at JJ. “I don’t wanna intrude or impose or anything-”

           “Oh, don’t be silly.” JJ tells her gently. “Hotch says you’re welcome to stay as long as you want.” Zoe nods and Spencer shuffles his feet again, then looks at JJ.

           “I’ve got cold stuff in the truck so I should head home, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” He says. JJ nods, grinning at him.

           “The boys are excited for brunch!” She says eagerly. Spencer nods and grins, heading for the door.

           “It was nice to meet you.” He calls to Zoe. She nods, watching him go. As soon as the door is closed and Spencer is climbing into his truck, Zoe whirls back around to face JJ, her eyes wide.

           “ That’s Spence?!” She cries quietly, “Genius-IQ-photographic-memory Spence?!” JJ nods, laughing softly and moving around to the front of the counter to stand beside Zoe. “You didn’t tell me he looked like that !” JJ laughs again, shaking her head fondly.

           “He’s cute, right?” She says, nudging Zoe gently. She’s not going to try and force Zoe into anything anytime soon - God knows the poor girl doesn’t need it - but she can’t say she’d be upset if Zoe and Spencer got together. They’d make a cute couple, she muses internally, and makes a mental note to bring it up at the next girls night.

           “He’s beautiful.” Zoe says softly. JJ chuckles, winding an arm around Zoe’s shoulders gently and leading her towards the front door.

           “C’mon. Hotch has a room waiting for you at the B&B. You can daydream about Spence while you unpack.” She teases. Zoe sputters, shaking her head as they go.

****

           That night, as Spencer gets ready for bed, his mind keeps wandering to the girl from the flower shop - Zoe. The top of her head had barely come up to his chin, and something about her had seemed so.. Timid. There’s something that makes him want to wrap his arms around her and promise that he’ll protect her from the rest of the world, that he won’t ever let any harm come to her. At the same time, however, something about her seems strong. Resilient. He’ll have to remember to ask her how she got the cast the next time he sees her. As he lays down in bed and burrows under his covers, he finds himself thinking about blue eyes and pink sundresses and the sun.

           Fifteen minutes away, Zoe sits in the middle of an almost annoyingly soft mattress in her room at the bed and breakfast. The pace of her day is catching up to her quickly, and she lays down, burrowing into her blankets and pressing her cheek to her pillow. She yawns into the fabric, sniffling quietly and trying to let herself relax for the first time in years - she’s safe here. He can’t find her, he’d never think to look for her here.

           And maybe, just maybe , she muses as her mind drifts to JJ’s genius-IQ-photographic-memory friend, she can let herself be truly happy here.

           She dreams that night, but for the first time in years, they aren’t bad dreams. When she wakes up in the morning, she doesn’t really remember them, but she remembers enough to know that they were good dreams for once, and the face that’s been tormenting her for so long now wasn’t there. Her phone dings merrily on the nightstand and she grabs it, squinting at the message displayed on the screen, then slides out of bed. JJ had said something to her yesterday before she’d left the B&B about brunch, so Zoe gets herself dressed quickly and heads downstairs.

           “Morning.”

           The voice makes her jump about a foot in the air, and Zoe whirls around, putting her hand to her chest. Hotch is perched in a chair, holding his hands up innocently to show he means no harm.

           “Sorry.” He says quickly, offering a sheepish smile. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

           “It’s okay.” Zoe says, willing her heartbeat to return to its normal pace. Hotch closes his newspaper and stands, moving to stand beside Zoe and look out over the town square for a moment.

           “Did you sleep okay?” He asks, glancing down at her. Zoe looks up and nods after a moment, offering a small smile. She wonders briefly how much JJ told Hotch about her situation. As if he’s reading her mind, he continues. “JJ didn’t tell me much about what you’re going through, just that it was an emergency and you needed somewhere to stay.” Tipping his head, he watches her for a moment, considering the way she seems to shrink away from him as he looks at her.

           “Yeah.” She says quietly after a moment, watching a few kids across the street run back and forth across their lawn. “Mr. Hotchner, I can’t thank you enough for giving me one of the rooms.”

           “Any friend of JJ’s is a friend of ours, and if I can help, then I’m more than happy.” He says, smiling gently. His smile widens just so when she gives one in return, and he nods. “And please, call me Hotch.” Zoe nods again, shuffling her feet on the floor of the porch.

           “JJ invited me for brunch.” She says softly. It almost sounds like she’s asking for permission, and he hums.

           “Well, if Will’s making his New Orleans French toast, you’re in for a treat.” He says, leaning on the railing. Zoe hovers by the stairs for a moment before moving down them slowly. “Have fun.” Hotch calls after her. She waves over her shoulder as she goes, and Hotch wonders momentarily what exactly she’s gone through.

****

           JJ is in the front yard with Henry and Spencer when Zoe arrives, Henry settled in Spencer’s lap as they read a book together, and Henry shrieks at the sight of her. He worms his way out of Spencer’s arms and collapses into the grass before jumping to his feet again and running full-tilt towards Zoe. She drops into a crouch instantly, glad she’d chosen jeans this morning as Henry knocks her on her ass.

           “Zoe, I missed you!” Henry yelps, clinging to her. Zoe laughs softly, a small smile touching her lips as she hugs the boy close.

           “I missed you too, bug.” She hums, squeezing him tightly for a moment. He returns the squeeze with one of his own, unaware of the way she winces just so at the pressure he applies to a bruise on her throat, then leans away and smooshes her cheeks.

           “Uncle Spencer is here!” He says, leaping off of her lap. She stands and Henry grabs her hand, yanking her down the walkway and stopping in front of Spencer, who looks up with a small smile and gives a wave. Zoe waves back, scooping Henry up and settling him on her hip when he raises his arms at her.

           “It’s nice to see you again.” Spencer says, standing and dusting his jeans off.

           “You too.” Zoe says, resting her cheek to Henry’s hair. She sways with the boy slowly and Spencer watches with a small smile. He glances over his shoulder when Will shouts from the kitchen that brunch is ready. Spencer steps aside, gesturing for the girls to go in ahead of him, then follows them in. They gather around the island in the center of the kitchen, Henry bouncing on Zoe’s knee lightly as they all dig in.

           Zoe listens more than she talks during their meal - something she’s used to, but in this setting, it’s a welcome thing. She’d rather listen to JJ and Will and Spencer chatter about work and the flower shop. She tips her head down as Henry starts babbling about school, playing with his hair gently as he talks. As they finish, Spencer and Henry rush back outside with Will, and JJ and Zoe stay in the kitchen to clean up.

           With the dishwasher full and running, Zoe trails after JJ to the front yard again, hovering on the steps as JJ hops down them and joins her boys, stealing a soccer ball away from Will and kicking it towards Henry gently. Spencer is perched on the steps as well, and Zoe sinks down to sit beside him lightly.

           “How’s your move going?” Spencer asks suddenly. Zoe glances at him, surprised, and shrugs lightly.

           “I settled into the B&B okay.” She hums, rubbing her knees. “Hotch is really nice.”

           “Yeah, he’s great.” Spencer says with a grin. “Everyone around town is pretty nice, really.” Zoe nods, resting her chin on her good hand, and Spencer glances at her. “Can I ask what happened?” He asks, gesturing to the cast on her left wrist.

           “Oh. I fell down the stairs.” Zoe tells him. The lie comes easily, as easily as they all have over the past two and a half years, but she can tell Spencer doesn’t quite believe her. He doesn’t push it though, just nods his head and looks back out over the lawn.

           “Hey, if you ever want a tour or something, I’d be happy to show you around town.” He says, looking at her again. Zoe looks up at him, stays silent for a long moment. He holds her gaze evenly, and she searches in his eyes for some sort of ulterior motive, something to tell her that she should be running in the other direction as fast as she possibly can.

           She finds nothing; nothing but honest goodness and gentle smiles. So she smiles back, just a little, but it’s her first real smile in ages, and it feels strange on her face, but in a good way.

           “I’ll think about it.” She says softly, and she has the same thought she did last night in bed. The thought that just maybe she can let herself be happy here.

[onlymollygibson]

Trying to Appease Every Single Fan  Backfired Spectacularly: An Analysis of The Rise of Skywalker

Up until The Rise of Skywalker, every Star Wars movie made has added new levels of depth, complexity and fun to the Star Wars canon and enhanced the viewing of previous movies.  The Rise of Skywalker did the opposite, by disrespecting or invalidating key themes and plot elements from previous movies.  (Spoilers below the cut)

Bringing Palpatine Back:

Not only is this a complete invalidation of Vader’s sacrifice in RotJ, but it completely undoes the interesting set-up at the end of TLJ:

What does Kylo Ren (a Darth Vader analog) do after killing his master and not turning to the light?

Can he hold onto power or does someone like Hux usurp him?

Both the Resistance and the First Order have been weakened considerably by the end of TLJ.  How does this play out in the complicated field of intergalactic politics?

These questions will never be answered because Abrams apparently didn’t know what to do without a Big Bad.

Since a redemption arc for Kylo Ren was obviously in the plans, it makes absolutely no sense to have him kill his evil master in TLJ and then go back and have to face his *real* evil master in TRoS.  

If you want to make a satisfying redemption arc in just three movies, you can’t afford to re-tread the same ground twice.  The next step after killing Snoke should have been Kylo Ren ruling as Supreme Leader, without Snoke’s voice in his head, and still feeling empty.  Think Zuko in Season 3 of AtLA, when he goes back to the Fire Nation a hero.  He had everything he thought he wanted, but he realized his victory was hollow and he was on the wrong side all along.  Now that’s a satisfying redemption arc. 

Rey Palpatine

Not only did Rian Johnson have Kylo Ren explicitly state Rey has no place in this story, but she had a freaking force vision telling her basically the same thing. The force vision in TLJ (and arguably a key theme of the movie as well) is rendered meaningless by the Rey Palpatine reveal in TRoS.

Also, we’ve done the whole ‘protagonist finds out they’re descended from the villain’ before, with the whole Luke - Vader reveal.  

You mean to tell me the grandson of Darth Vader died to save the granddaughter of Palpatine?  Seriously?

Kylo Ren dies

The following people died in an attempt to return Ben Solo to the light.

Han Solo

Luke Skywalker

Leia Organa

They succeeded, but only for ten minutes, because the Last Skywalker rose (or climbed out of a hole or whatever - seriously THAT was the title of the movie) and then died two minutes later.

Not to mention they’re telling the same story twice.  Again!  And just like with the Rey Palpatine nonsense, they told it better the first time. Darth Vader - manipulated from childhood by a creepy evil dude.  Dies.  His grandson - manipulated from childhood by a creepy evil dude.  Dies.  Recycling old plots is not good storytelling.

Furthermore, the story of Darth Vader becomes much more tragic if his death to save the next generation didn’t really save them, since his grandson became obsessed with his legacy, repeated his mistakes and ended the same way Vader did -with death ten minutes after he turned back to the light.  Only KR didn’t even have another generation to save. 

Lando Calrissian rallies the troops

Remember how emotional it was when no one was around to help Leia in TLJ?  It turns out all she needed last time was Lando Calrissian and a space boom box or whatever he did to get that many people to show up in no time at all.  I mean, I know it was because he went to the Core Worlds, but thematically, you’ve got Lando Calrissian succeeding where Princess Leia failed and it doesn’t sit right with me.

Force Healing

Remember Anakin Skywalker, who turned to the Dark Side to save Padme and stayed on the Dark Side for like thirty years afterwards?  Well he’s in Force heaven watching the scene where Rey heals Kylo Ren with absolute disgust.  “Seriously?  It was that easy?  That would have been nice to know before I threw Mace Windu off a building.”

A particularly egregious way in which TRoS disrespected previous movies was the method in which this movie raised the stakes. 

Remember how absolutely terrified the Rebels were of the Death Star in Rogue One.  Remember that achingly beautiful bittersweet ending?  Well now forty-ish years later, they’re still fighting that same fight, to the point that it’s become a joke.  The bad guys make a planet killer.  The good guys blow it up.  How have we had five out of eleven movies with this same plot?  Every time you tell the same story AGAIN, it cheapens the other times the story has been told. It’s like inflation.

Seriously?  The final battle of the nine-movie saga involves fighting like five hundred Star Destroyers that came out of nowhere with giant Death Star canons strapped on the bottom?

I mean yes, the idea is horrifying, but imagine the directors of Nightmare on Elm Street saying, “Freddie Krueger was terrifying and people loved the movie.  For the sequel, let's have a hundred Freddie Kruegers running around.”  It works with snakes and spiders, but not super creepy people or powerful weapons. 

This is especially true because the Sith Fleet was basically pulled out of thin air, which makes the whole thing feel like Diabolus ex Machina.

It’s made doubly ridiculous because they’re not only absurdly powerful, they’re also easy to destroy.  I mean, seriously, Tie Fighters are harder to blow up than those things.  A single strafing run from a Y-wing and the whole dang Star Destroyer is toast.  This means you don’t really need any battle tactics beyond ‘shoot the giant gun,’ which makes for a really boring action sequence.  Star Wars is famous for its dogfights in space.  I mean, yeah, the tactics are not actually plausible because zero gravity changes warfare in ways they don’t address, but it’s fine because of the Rule of Cool.  

As for the characters and relationships, it’s kind of a trainwreck and nobody is really happy.

Tons of fans are unhappy because Kylo Ren and Rey kissed

Many were opposed to the idea of a villain turning good because he was in love with the hero and that’s exactly what happened in this movie

Others were unhappy because they saw KR as an unredeemable monster and yet he had a (small, not very well executed) redemption arc.  

He never suffered for his past actions or even really talked about them, yet he and the protagonist are in love, so it’s fine.

The fans who wanted a Kylo Ren/Rey relationship were unhappy because of how the relationship played out

The redemption arc wasn’t all that great.  

The whole Rey Palpatine thing means that KR lied to Rey when he asked her to join him in TLJ.  That line was cringey enough when it was true, and now that it's a lie, it’s twice as bad.

They’re a diad in the Force and now one of them is dead?  How is that a happy ending?

A major theme of the sequels was Rey finding belonging and someone who understand her.  KR was sold as a dual protagonist, someone who understands her.  They were on the same side for ten minutes and then he died and Rey doesn’t cry, instead she goes sand sledding and takes the Skywalker name.  Seriously, how is this a ‘satisfying’ ending?

And a few minor things

Why does Rose only get like four lines?  

General Hux had like two minutes of screen time.  For a fan-favorite villain, his ending was disappointing.  He really owned his two minutes, though.  But think, without the Palpatine nonsense, there could have been more time to examine the discord in the ranks of the First Order higher-ups, with some focus on the lack of respect the original Imperials have for the new generation of First Order commanders.  When you raise the stakes with a larger-than-life villain (especially one who was supposed to have died), you run the risk of losing the far more interesting stories revolving around villains who are far more human, both in their powers and in their emotions and desires. 

Did anyone have character growth in this movie?  Because to me it seemed like they were so busy with shots of CGI copy-pasted Star Destroyers in a row, that they didn’t leave time for personal growth or emotional payoff.

Early reviews said The Rise of Skywalker checked all the boxes for a Star Wars movie, but forgot about the heart.  Now that I finally dragged myself to the theater to see for myself, I can’t help but agree. 

[okimargarvez]

UNDER PRESSURE

Original title: Sotto pressione.

Prompt: post 13x15.

Warning : none. Genre: angst, romantic, family.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 25 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘🔦.

Song mentioned: La tua vita non passerà, Tiziano Ferro.

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

UNDER PRESSURE

 They talk, they talk, they talk, they say that I dream, but they lie, they lie...

The woman drives away the frustration while her eye burns them terribly. She throws the contact lens into the appropriate container and finally wears the old and beloved glasses again. Forced to be who she is not, for almost ten hours a day. Yes, it's true that she always had to put a good face on it, but not with them, not with her team.

No, she doesn't have to think about it. It was the initial mistake, that of wanting... everything... everything...

This is her life now. Probably it will be until she takes her last breath. She rinses her face with cold water, remove any layer of makeup. She looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize herself. Those short hair don't belong to her.

I resemble the world in many aspects and in its most evident faults...

She sits on the bed. She removes the shoes, only five centimeters high heel, black paint color. She throws them into one side of the room. She also removes the suit. Beige. It's the only nuance that is not good for her, it is unshakable, it has no personality. She is depriving her of her way of being, as if it were the wedding garment that Medea has given to her Jason's bride, to take revenge. Or the robe worn by Heracles, soaked with the ointment that the centaur Nessus gave to Deianira, succeeding in this way to kill one of the greatest demigods of ancient mythology... ok, she reads too much, in the evening. She has too much free time available.

I made too many things wrong, roads, I entered a few churches so rarely, tomorrow I will leave even if you don't want to...

She also removes the bra, while she laughs alone. Her laughter spreads across the room, bounces off the walls and comes back. The emptiness surrounds her and soon, will be able to incorporate her, make her disappear. She will become one of the many who work without passion, without knowing why she do it. She will repeat the same gestures indefinitely, until she becomes not even more aware. Soon there will not be much difference between her and whatever piece of furniture in her office.

Your life will not pass, it will not pass, it will not pass, I will not give up your life at every failure ...

She wears a pink nightgown, decorated with various images of unicorns. She closes her eyes and tries to feel that scent, something, anything that she remembers who it is. But she doesn't hear anything.

The vibration of the cell phone on the bedside table makes her jump. She grabs it by praying that there is no case. Once (and yet it has been two months since that day, it seems 2 or 20 years) she would have been happy to have to run to work. Because here she would find...

She reads the name in the sender. Cool Hand Luke.

Another giggle escapes from her, then she wonders why he texts her. Will he have a wrong number? Something will not happen to JJ or Matt or... She opens it holding her breath. I entrust your life to the wind, which changes the terms and derails them, takes people and dazzles them because often the world makes mistakes...

Hey, Garcia, how are you? I hope I'm not bothering you. I wanted to ask you if you want to get some tea. I should talk to you about something. She smiles, her lips bent gently upwards. Only he could be so careful to detail. Not a coffee, but a tea. Damn Newbie. She sighs and stares the screen until it turns off.

Hey, obviously she omits answering his first question, ok, is it something serious? When would you like to go? She deletes the last sentence. In this way it seems like a date, while it's simply about... it's definitely about work. She sees no other reason why he should contact her. Damn, they have not seen each other for two months. Two months. No one in the new workplace has ever looked at her like him, in this time frame. No one called her chica, nor even flirted just for fun with her. Nobody ever told her she did a great job. She deletes the entire message.

Has something bad happened? Don't make me worry, Alvez. She presses send before changing her mind again. As if she were on a precipice waiting for the right moment to throw herself. What a bad image.

No, not really. Are you free, then? Tomorrow night? The man' response arrives very quickly. As if he were in front of the screen, as if he were waiting... she is going too many mental journeys. This haven't stopped, at least some things don't change.

Yes, if I don't have a case. Same goes for you, I guess. I'll let you know at the time. This time at least one-minute passes before the screen lights up again.

Ok. From O'Keef at eight? Reading that name destabilizes her much more than everything else. It's a happy place, full of good memories, carefree evenings...

No, please, let's choose another place. Any one, but not that. I'm not ready. Now, that she doesn't see him every day, it's useless to keep showing herself cold and indifferent, not allowing him to glimpse not even a small part of her weakness.

Of course, Penelope, there is no problem. I know a nice place, very colorful and noisy. I'll send you the address tomorrow. Good night. He manages to snatch almost a moan from her. How the heck does he is so sweet and so smart to guess always? Why can he understand that what she needed was noise, confusion, something that didn't make her feel the weight of the loneliness she brought with her from that blessed day?

Thank you. Night.

 They talk, they talk, they talk, and they say that I dream, however, they lie, they lie...

The man opens the door of his apartment and enters. The sheepdog runs towards him, showing him how much she missed him. -Hello, girl, I know, I missed you too.- he kneels, crouching to sink the face in the thick fur of the animal and inhales her scent strongly. This gesture has always calmed him, ever since he came back from Iraq and he never stopped doing it, every time he found himself in crisis, he risked to relapse... for example after seeing Penelope in tears for Reid and having had two small talk with Shawn. Or after seeing Scratch falling without doing anything. And surely when he found out that a bastard had shot Garcia during a date. And from that day, when Linda Barnes had decided to destroy everything... well, it had become increasingly necessary.

I'll go back, when I want, because you know, who doesn't have a life... dreams...

The jet landed at six in Quantico. He has all the time in the world to get ready. She has already assured him that the coast is clear, nothing fish to fry. She tried to show the usual Garcia, but she didn't succeed very well. He understood that there is something different, that she is forced, yes, even by the way she wrote those texts. Not that before (as it sounds, even in his head, this adverb of time, as if it were about centuries ago) had exchanged who knows how many messages. But those few times she didn't miss an opportunity to prick him, just a little. To provoke him. And he certainly didn't pull back. Yesterday evening, instead...

Yesterday she has sounded shut off. She even showed herself to be weak, telling him she didn't want to go to O'Keef. It was obvious that she would not like it, he had to guess it. What a fool!

I mistook day and night by dreaming and I can't sleep ...

He pulls himself up and prepares Roxy's dinner quickly. Another gesture that calms him, because so habitual, so reassuring in its repeating smoothly. Here it can't happen that a Linda (Spencer was right, Linda was a problem) suddenly arrives and destroys everything in her path. Two years of hard work wiped away in a second, to be able to integrate himself, to trust others...

He goes to the bathroom and gets naked, getting rid of anxiety alongside sweaty clothes. First, he removes the boots, putting them on the side, then the shirt, the red one amaranth, the dark trousers, the underwear and the white socks. He opens the water and slips under the jet of hot water, the steam rises, enveloping his body. He grabs the shampoo bottle and puts some liquid in one hand, rubs his hair, long as when he had known her, he closes his eyes and tries not to tremble at the thought that, in less than an hour, he'll see her again.

Two months, sixty days without a misplaced joke, a zinger, eyes turned to the sky, unbecoming nicknames... even if the last time she had called him cool guy. Yeah, he had made progress. Finally, she realized that he wasn't the playboy she wanted so much... and Barnes had to intrude herself by sending everything to hell. Thank you very much. But perhaps something positive could sprout from this mess.

While passing the sponge on the back and chest he remembers the dialogue with JJ. She had told him that she hadn't talk to Penelope for a century. She was practically gone. The same was true of Tara and Emily; the girls had tried to invite her to one of their women' nights, but nothing, she hadn't even answered, if not the next day with I’m sorry, I was overworked. Overworked. Not a term she would use. Obsolete and weird, yes, but not in the sense in which she usually expressed herself. Not even Reid, who found the experience of teaching rather formative (more humanly than unprofessionally), or Rossi, engaged in the drafting of a novel where the supreme head of a team, a bureaucrat without the slightest training on the field, she went to a lot of trouble... but even Matt was no longer able to contact her.

He had been thinking about it for a while. All this mysterious situation had made him definitively worry. They were in the same damn building and they had never even crossed their streets. Not in the parking lot, not in the elevator, nothing. He knew in which unit she had been transferred. He had heard about it. And just he couldn't imagine her among those people, each interested exclusively in their careers, to add a plaque on the desk.

That's why he was surprised, yesterday, when she answered him. Why he and not the others? Maybe he just caught her at the right time, for once. He decided he wanted to believe this.

It's made of prohibitions and all of our things, life is always beautiful because life doesn't rest...

All the foam flows in to the drain. He closes the tap and goes out, grabs a towel and puts it around his waist. He threads a pair of terry slippers, walking towards the bedroom. He opens the wardrobe and pulls out a shirt. Blue. This time he doesn't need to ask for a second opinion, that of Roxy, of course. He knows (without knowing why) that this is the right choice. When he thinks he is dry enough, he puts on a tight white shirt. It's not too hot outside. But not even inside (inside him). Another pair of trousers, not jeans, without front pockets, clear, which stand out the muscles of his calves. And casual shoes but not completely elegant.

Back in the bathroom, he looks in the mirror. He passes a hand through his hair, already dry. He combs them quickly, glances at the clock nearby. He has still just five minutes. He puts on his wrist the bracelet that Phil gave him. Spray deodorant and even a scent, but delicate and almost imperceptible.

He grabs the jacket, then changes his mind to the last and opt for the denim jacket. Better.

He sighs, takes wallet, house keys, car keys and cell phone. The bare minimum.

I'm leaving home now. Are you already there? He is afraid of receiving in reply that she will not be there, that in the end some unforeseen will prevent her from reaching him, that he has only deluded himself... instead, quite the contrary.

No, but I'm almost there. It's not even from her, to be on time. There is definitely something wrong. He turns to Roxy. -Hey, girl, now I have to go. But if all goes well, I will not go back alone.- the dog almost seems to nod. -I bring Penelope back home, I promise.-

 He enters in the bar and looks around. He immediately meets the gaze of a blonde woman, as confused as he is. He approaches frowning. -Garcia?- now it is certain, it is her. The hair is short, very short, smooth, cut into an almost military bowl haircut that leaves uncovered a good part of her neck. She wears a strange, dark suit that makes her look like a lawyer. The make-up is light, no eyeliner, not even lipstick. And no colorful glasses; probably she wears contact lenses. He had never noticed before how big her eyes were.

-Luke.- she doesn't move, doesn't stand up to greet him, she just looks at him. It is however strange and significant that she decided to call him by name. He takes off his jacket, leans it on the chair and positions himself in front of her. -I'm sorry for the clothes, but I just got out of work. A colleague of mine left early and I also had to finish his part. I didn't have time to change. I hope you don't mind.- the really Garcia, two months ago, would have known how to make some good joke from a situation like that. The woman who is before him now, however, limited to expose her justification with a flat and aseptic tone. She, who cared so much to every detail, who personally chose every accessory to wear combined with the clothes...

-No, it's just that... You're... you're so... weird.- the truth escapes from him, he just can't hold it. His upheaval certainly doesn't go unnoticed. The woman finds herself giggling and shaking her head, as if he had made a joke.

-I'm with you from a second, and I already seem to be back home.- here, this looks even more like the original Garcia. But still, her eyes are definitely less bright and lively, less mischievous. -So... what did you want to talk to me, cool guy?- she had say it again. She used that nickname. Penelope bites her tongue, cursing herself. But the impact wasn't strong just for him. Luke is beautiful, as always. But there's something strange about him too. He didn't shave perfectly, he cut his own cheek, if she'll put her finger on his skin, she could follow all the way...

-Nothing, it's just that... you're disappeared.- he decides to go slowly, to not did further pressure to her. After all, she is the one who was thrown in the middle of the sharks without life preservers. She is alone, but she has to continue to do what she did before, without being herself. -We work in the same building but never see each other.- he is aware of what may seem, what truly is, but he doesn't want her to know and he's hurry to continue -I mean, also with JJ and Matt.- he can't prevent his cheeks from turning red. -It's not strange? I know that you don't even be in touch with others.- at the end he says everything, without filters. It seems as if he is blaming her, that he is accusing her of something. At least it is in this sense that she perceives it.

-Well, I've been very busy.- she justifies herself by crossing her arms over her chest. It is certainly the first time that not even a small part of her breast is exposed to sight. He gives himself to the maniac, but that thought doesn't leave him free anyway. The woman notices the insistence of his gaze, but the war is temporarily interrupted by a very attractive waitress who takes their orders. Luke ignores her almost completely.

-Do you like what you do? How are you?- he asks as soon as they are alone again. He was right, the place is very welcoming, there is a strange atmosphere, as if time were suspended; the tables are all wooden, the walls covered with posters that date back to the late 1980s, a persistent music fills every empty space. And then there is the cheerful voice of other people. As he speaks, he approaches her a little.

For a while, she seems not to have heard the two questions. -Oh, Newbie, I missed your interrogation!- she is happy that he didn't ask her why she clearly avoided talking to others. And once again she wonders why she has answered him affirmatively, why she is here. Should not. This goes against the pact that she was forced to sign. She lets the nickname slip on her tongue as if she couldn't avoid it in any way. She smiles almost maliciously. -Anyway... it's not that bad. It's not the first time that I collaborate with a different team.- she adds in a professional tone, not without some uncertainty that leads man to understand that she is lying, or at least omitting part of the truth.

-I missed being called in this way.- he says this purposefully. In another situation, if they were in their offices, miles away, one in a country and one in another, this could also seem like a joke, a flirtation to ease the accumulated tension in trying to save as many human lives as possible.

But she deliberately decides to ignore these implications. -What do you really want, Alvez?- the waitress returns and settles their drinks on the table. -You can't have called me just for a chat.- she decrees, raising an eyebrow. -Do you feel lonely? Lisa is not enough for you?- here, he seems to feel a tiny pinch of jealousy. Luke chuckles, because he doesn't see Dr. Douglas from that date when they have play at the foosball table a century ago. Yet, she didn't seem particularly worried when she broke their first date. Of course, she had begun to deliriously as usual... but this is not all that significant.

He sighs and leans a hand towards the mug of beer. Look at the yellow liquid, similar to the color of the hair of his ex-colleague. -It didn't work. But basically, it's better this way.- the pure truth, nothing more and nothing less. The tone of man is not displeased, it shows no shade of sadness, although this implies exactly what Garcia has asked him, only to provoke him: solitude.

-Oh, I'm sorry.- she's honest too, and he believes her easily. The lips, so clear in their natural color, bend slightly downwards and a wrinkle appears on her forehead. But he can't stop staring at those brown eyes. Yes, they are definitely big, huge. -How is Phil?- apparently the interrogation has turned over. Now she is the one who asks the questions. -And Roxy?- hearing the name of his dog he can't help but smile gently.

-Phil is fine, he's making some progress...- he says before taking a sip of his beer. Bitter. But perhaps it is he who perceives everything in that perspective, since the hag had cast her spell. -And Roxy...- he hesitates a moment, but then he remembers the promise made to his girl. -...why don't you come see her? I'm sure she'd like it...- using his dog has always been the best way to get positive attention from the blonde. A bit 'sneaky and even incorrect, but he cares little.

Garcia takes an eternity before opening her mouth again. He watches her drink her drink, turning the little colored umbrella, pulls it out to use it as a toothpick and sticks the lemon slice, then she brings it to the mouth and suck the liquid, without producing any vulgar or annoying noise. He remains as enchanted by these simple gestures. -No.- she finally says. -I don't think it's the case.- her lips are wet from a few drops of lemon.

Who knows what flavor they have, if they would have had a bitter taste too. -Is that all you had to tell me?- he is silent. She finishes drinking and puts the empty glass on the table. -Then, I have to go.- she stands up and turns to take the jacket. At that moment Luke notices two things at the same time: first the shoes, black and without heel, well, only a few centimeters, practically slippers for the computer technician's standards; and then he notices how much she looks smaller, in those clothes so unusual for her, she also lost weight. Stress, definitely.

In a second, he is standing next to her and his fingers wrapped like coils, like handcuffs, albeit gently, around the woman's wrist. -Hey, wait.- Garcia looks at him but without protesting. -The unit needs you, Penelope.- this is only the easy half of the matter. -I, I need you.- he finally exclaims, emphasizing the personal pronoun. She almost abandons herself on the chair. He too returns to settle in front of her. The mug is still half full. He feels like freed from a burden. BAU needed Penelope Garcia because no one had her abilities, her speed in identifying the right information. About this no one would have nothing to say.

-You?- her huge brown eyes, doe eyes (he must have read this in some novel, such kind of expression, but he had never happened to apply it in the real world) are opened, exactly as when this wild animal at night is on a dangerous road and the headlights of a car illuminate it before the possible impact. -Why?- Penelope falters, her head spinning and the whole room becomes blurred. Damn contact lenses, she hates them. If at least she was able to remove...

Luke decides that by now he did the first important step, he can't hide his hand after throwing the stone. So, he reaches out and grabs her hand, without even looking. His body automatically moves in the right direction, almost guided by a superior force. -This job is empty, without your jokes that have nothing to do with the case.- well, it was just this. Newbie lacked someone to joke with, someone who could smile despite everything, nothing more. This, she was for him: a fool who made a clown.

Penelope feels anger increasing and clenching her throat, tears sting her eyes and wet her eyelashes. She can't cry, not only because Luke is in front of her, but mostly because the damned lenses get dirty, if she does. -BAU also need Reid's intelligence, Rossi's experience, Emily's loyalty, Tara's insights. Not just my jokes.- she growls, listing the other members of the team. It's immediately obvious to the man that she misinterpreted his sentence. She felt diminished, while his goal is to make her understand how important she is, but not just for the team.

Luke shakes his head, annoyed. -It's not just that, you know what I meant...- he looks at her directly in the way he has always looked at her, his hand still on hers, even the partially intertwined fingers, although she tried to get rid of it, but he is too strong, or the woman's attempts have been weak. -However, you're right.- he doesn't made any effort to admit it. Garcia doesn't smile in a victorious gesture. -But I, I only need you.- again that underlining. -Before, I was a loner, I thought it was better this way, it was simpler, nobody worried about me, but now I love this group, we are a family, I love everyone, but I love you a little bit more.- he's never let himself go with her so much on such a subject. She had sensed something when she had met Phil. From behind the column she had heard him explain to his friend how hard it was to start a normal life again, after returning from Iraq and how much Roxy had helped him. Because he needed a reason for wanting to live. Before this, she had never really thought, that Luke could have such pains within himself. Her ingenuity and her security system prevented her from getting there. She couldn't really imagine him, in a context like war. She had wondered what kind of thoughts could ever crossing his head in such a period. And how much lonely he was felt. And now he is clearly saying it, he is writing black and white that, apart from Lisa's parenthesis, he has neither wanted no one for a long time. And that now he is ready to have it. And he wants her.

The clarity of this thought strikes her like an invisible fist in her stomach, stealing the air from her. She nods and grabs the man's glass, taking a sip, before Luke's uncertain gaze. She's not a beer-type, but she needed to swallow that lump in her throat. -Why are you telling me these things? Why exactly now?- one question after another, to silence the thousand voices in her head. Her voice sounds like that of a child. Finally, she manages to free her hand and carried it on her ribs, as in the period shortly after she had been shot. -The team is gone, Luke. It's over.- she almost hears a crack as she says it.

Your life will not pass, it will not pass, it will not pass... your life will be stronger, of what they sometimes told you... -No, look at me, Penelope, please.- when she executes that simple request she realizes that even the Luke's eyes are shiny. The last time she saw him like that, it was at Walker's funeral. -Do you remember what I told you when Reid was in trouble?- he asks in a caressing, delicate, low, and extremely deep voice. And sexy. Damn it, how can he be so exciting in such a dramatic moment? Such an intense gaze like his should be forbidden. -that we will get Reid through this, we will have managed it, and so it has been.- he answers by himself, then he observes the mug and end its contents in a single sip. He stands up, wears his jacket and is imitated by a completely distraught Penelope. When she's ok he takes her by the arm and heads for the bar to pay.

Only when they are out in the cool evening air, she seems able to talk again. -It was different, he was innocent, while we...- she silences, shakes her head and looks around, as if she were looking for someone or something. An escape route.

-What is it that you don't want to say?- Garcia doesn't answer. -There's something you didn't tell me, I see it.- he reads in her big eyes how much she hates the fact that he's a profiler. But work has nothing to do with it.

Finally, like a dormant volcano that has managed to convince everyone that it's non-dangerous, she suddenly erupts. -Ok, all right!- she shouts loudly. -If you really want to know... Barnes made me promise to close relations with all of you. Well, it's not that she really made me promise, let's say she has "warmly" recommended me...- for a moment she loses herself in trifling matters, like her usual did, before that day. -If I hadn't, she would have sent me to prison. And she would have forced all of you to leave...- she didn't want that he discover this part, but she didn't make it. She can't keep secrets or things of this kind only for herself. They also made fun of her for this. But she doesn't want to be a martyr. She absolutely doesn't want his compassion and even worse his pity.

-In prison?- finally he is the one seriously upset. She enjoys the triumph in silence. -What?- man can't conceive of such a possibility. Or the reasons why a person like Penelope can end up behind bars. For excess of sweetness? Behavior too uninhibited? Illegal distribution of tea? And then, late, the other consideration also hits him. She sacrificed herself for them. She couldn't talk to them, with any one of her old team, she was forced into exile. And this is not absolutely right.

Penelope emits a bitter laugh. -I'm a hacker, Luke.- she decides to be magnanimous and not wait that him arrives on his own to the right conclusion. He could very well do it, she knows how clever and perceptive he is, more than she wanted to admit. But for certain things, he seems almost as naive as she is. All the pieces find their place in the man head. -How do you believe I know certain tricks? Why do you think I ended up working for the BAU?- this was really a too loud bomb and she shot him straight in the face. Despite the jacket, the woman getting cold. She shudders only a little.

-Penelope, you can't carry this weight alone.- a third question enlightens his mind. Why had she decided to break that sort of contract and see him, why him, the one who had known her for less time, and not the others? A slight flame is re-ignited. But she is quick to turn it off.

-Never mind.- she shrugs like if it were nothing. She has always done so, grin and bear it. When Reid was arrested she and JJ carred about his mother's, she worried that she always had a hot meal, to cite just one example. - Now I have to go.- again that phrase, which breaks into his thoughts.

-No.- he stops her only with that monosyllable, without needing to grasp her physically or add more. -Are you dating anyone?- now that this threshold has passed, he can afford to be jealous of the idea that she, in these two months, has found someone else. And maybe right at work. Perhaps one who didn't limit himself to sraring her as if she was a miracle on this earth, but has found the courage to ask her a date, without fear of ending up incinerated like Anchise with Aphrodite.

-This argument has never been your business.- she defends herself as she can, but she no longer has any strength. She's about to give in, it's obvious now. Luke approaches her a step. She hears the slight rustling of his shoes, it's still early but few cars pass by the street. She has her eyes closed. She can't cry.

-Unfortunately you're right, could you answer however?- she feels his breath create like a cloud of steam that comes directly into her face. The heat is too much, the last straw. When she tries to lift her eyelids, she realizes that he is much closer than she believed. She never got the chance to observe his dark eyes at such a distance. She takes advantage of it to capture a thousand details, nuances. She is so close to that scratch on his cheek... just a caress, just one...

-No, I'm not dating anyone.- she responds without being able to look away from the male. She's like hypnotized, in a trance. -My life is work, Luke. It will always be like that.- she explains. But the words don't agree with the subdued tone. She sees the great hands of him rise and reach her cheeks and she knows in advance what he is about to do. She literally abandons herself, allowing him to grasp her lips with his own, to slightly bite the lower one, to the point of shaking her along the spine, to make her mouth open to intrude his tongue in and start a wild fight with hers.

Yet she is conscious of every action of her own, she doesn't lose the sense of reality. She feels her own arms moving, a hand resting on the man's back, on his shoulder blade and bringing him closer to her, as if she needs more heat. The other instead ends right on the cheek of the man, she feels the roughness of the shaved beard hairs and she identify the scratch, following the path.

When he detaches her lips from the female ones, exclusively for lack of oxygen, he still can't stay too far from her. He lays his forehead against hers. Since Garcia doesn't wear her usual stilts, the difference in height between them is even more noticeable. -If I managed to do this, all together we can save the team, don't you think?- he tries a joke, but he is extremely serious.

-Starting a clandestine relationship that goes against the regulation, is not v the best of the ideas you've had, Newbie.- and she seems to understand it, because she responds in the same way. As if Luke's lips had been able to restore her true essence, what she was beginning to forget. He wiped out all the beige with a single gesture.

-That means that you liked the others?- that grimace, that crooked smile, all leaning to the left, the white teeth partially visible. How much did she miss it, without realizing it? She also had the courage to wonder why he and not the others.

-You always twist my words against me!- but it's a protest for play, to see how far he can get, to pretend that the BAU is still together, that she shouldn't return in the cold, cold and impersonal apartment that they had gave to her. Where cats aren't allowed. It was the last time she saw Emily, when she gave Sergio gave back to her. Heck, how much she misses everyone.

-That's why you like me so much, don't you?- he satisfies her, answering her jokingly and as their noses touch, before a second kiss, Penelope realizes that even if they were to get married, this thing will not change between them. They will continue to prick each other even when he has to help himself with the stick and she will be almost completely blind and maybe even deaf as a post.

It was absolutely not a rational thought. They aren't even together, and she already imagines their eternity? The man realizes that one of the moans is too much like a sob. -Luke...- she is crying. Her whole body is shaken by unstoppable sobs.

Luke puts a hand on the woman's back and pushes her against his chest. She puts her head in but doesn't stop sobbing. -Sorry, I didn't want to make you cry, I'm so stupid.- he believes it's his fault. She enjoys those caresses on the hair, behind the ear (how the hell does he know it's one of her sensitive spots?) and on her back.

-It's not for you, it's ... this whole situation.- finally she manages to calm down enough to formulate some coherent and meaningful sentence. -I kept the pain inside for these two months, I didn't allow myself to cry even a tear, because then I would have admitted that it was really over. I missed all of you, so much, yes, you too.- they laugh together. A few drops also fall down from man's face, until the scratch, then on the neck, left naked by those too short hair.

Even when they shout to you, run, bastard, run, your life stays in here, I defend it, I defend it...

-You missed me too, Penelope. I can't imagine you in another team, all alone. Dressed like that... I guess they don't even allow you to make your own jokes.- she doesn't detach herself from that embrace that they both pursued at least from the trial for the detention of Reid, certainly since he had found her in tears in her office. She wraps her arms around Luke's mighty back.

-The paragon of professionalism.- words that seem to come from another timing. -Luke, you have no idea. She forced me to wear civilian clothes because... because I also have to take care of the support of the victims' relatives. I can't do everything, I can't do it.- he's about to open his mouth but she raises her head in his direction making him understand that she hasn't finished yet. -She also forced me to put these damned contact lenses, which my eyes deeply dislike. And... I live in a tiny apartment, in a complex, very close to the office, because at least in that way I can't be late.- another sob, though no more salty drops growing in her eyes. She sinks her face into Luke's jacket and inhales his scent. -I had to give up Sergio.- a phrase that corresponds to a long groan.

-Oh, baby, we'll get through this.- he takes her face in his hands and she gets up on the tips to reach his lips in a kiss less passionate than the first two, but decidedly more intense and full of responsibility. Both linger one suspended on the other's mouth. -You will not have to endure this situation for a long time. Do you believe me? - the mind rationally should suggest her to respond negatively.

Instead for the first time it agrees with the heart. -Yes.- he smiles, still holding her in his arms. They need both external and internal heat.

-What would you like to do now? Do you prefer to see others or...- there has never been a quicker and simpler answer to give. Of course, as they both said, it's not just him who needs her back in the BAU, but the whole team, who they consider as a family. This is absolutely true. But then there are only them and they can't see beyond their noses.

- Well, you don’t told me that Roxy misses me...?-

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee @itsdawnashlie @talesoffairies @janiedreams88 @kiki-krakatoa @yessenia993 @teyamarra @c00lhandsluke  @gcchic @arses21434 @orangesickle @entireoranges @jarmin @kathy5654 @martinab26 @thisonekid @thenibblets @perfectly-penelope @ambrosiaswhispers @maziikeen92 @lovelukealvez @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @ichooseno  @ megs2219 @rkt3357 @franklintrixie @thinitta @chewwy123 @skisun @maba84 @saisnarry @myhollyhanna23 @thenorthernlytes

[unkindnessofone]

5SOS. Up We Go

This is the idea that won the vote. I hope you enjoy. I would love some feedback. There was going to be more beyond the end, but I thought I might leave this one on a happy note. Let me know what you think. xoxo

*******************

“How nice of you to join us.” Simone mused from the shallow end of their suite's pool where she was floating very slowly in simple black one piece. Against her chest, in a very small bathing suit with blue stripes, yellow sand dollars, and pink flamingos all over it as well as a very floppy matching cotton hat, she was holding four month old Molly Irwin, just letting the her chubby little legs feel the cool water as they traveled around with no real place to go. Her tired eyes matched her young husbands as he slowly sat down at the edge, dipping his legs into the pool and waving silently at his two favorite ladies. Ever since Ashton became a father, his hangovers had hit him harder. They were fewer and further between, but they felt like being smacked over and over again by a swollen iron fist. He used to be able to work out through them, but it was bad painful just to read his texts in bed when he woke up. In his defense, one of his best friends did tie the knot the night before and that was a special occasion worth celebrating. Plus, there was an open bar with an incredible selection. “The water might help your head.” She suggested, shrugging her shoulders as she moved a little closer to where he was. Ashton shook his head as an answer and reached out his arms for Molly. He had been awake a grand total of ten minutes and he hadn't had a single second with his little one. It was not okay.

“Hey Miss Molly....” Quietly, for his own head and hers, he greeted her while carefully taking her from Simone's embrace. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally drop her into the water. “Are you hungover, too?” Jokingly, he asked her, adjusting the wide rim of her hat so he could actually see her face: expressionless,  but still charming.

“She might be kiss hungover.” Simone added, her wet shoulders against Ashton's legs that were hanging in the water. “When I picked her up from your mum's room, she had the biggest lipstick stains on her. Bright red right on her forehead and cheek.” Simone would have been amused if it hadn't taken three baby wipes to fully remove the makeup from her child's face. Still, she was grateful that Annemarie left the reception early to watch over Molly while Ashton and Simone partied like they were teenagers with their friends.

Ashton held Molly out, just above the water, and let her feet kick clumsily in the water. Simone swam a little bit ahead of her, cheering her on as she watched Molly smile. It was one of the few ways she could indicate her mood to them at all.

“Did you talk to anyone this morning? Is anyone else up?” Ashton asked his wife, prying his eyes away from Molly's legs as he held her. Most of the invited guests to Cagney and Luke's wedding had stayed in surrounding hotels in Brisbane, but there were still some of Ashton's friends who had crashed at The Stamford Plaza or who could also afford a room there. He couldn't remember for sure if he and Calum made morning breakfast plans or if that was just silly drunk talk in between celebratory shots.

“Just Grace and your mum.”

“Ah, I can't remember as much as I'd like to after our first round of shots...” Chuckling, Ashton admitted before handing Molly back to her mother so that he could slide into the pool to join him. He hadn't put on any sunscreen yet even though it had been resting on the night stand by their hotel bed. “I was thinking, maybe, someone could fill in the blanks.”

“You danced a lot.” Simone informed him, a Chesire cat grin spreading across her face as she told him that suggested perhaps his moves on the dance floor hadn't been all that smooth. “And cried. You were very happy for Luke.”

“I like Keg, you know that. She brought us together.” He shot her a wink that he instantly regretted since it poked at his headache.

“You called yourself 'a fountain of extreme feelings'.” Simone wiggled her brows at him with a small chuckle, recalling how emotional the night made her husband. “I'm sure Grace could fill you in.” Simone mentioned. She hadn't exactly stayed stone cold sober either and since she was still pumping and breastfeeding, it had been her first night drinking in over a year. She was as light a weight as she had been on her eighteenth birthday. “She didn't drink last night.”

“What?” Ashton's whole face contorted until it looked like a honey crueler. That wasn't the party girl he knew. Both Michael and his wife could polish off a whiskey bottle to themselves and still walk in a straight line. As Ashton took a minute to consider what Simone said, he realized he hadn't seen Grace drunk in a little while. She had been sipping a glass with lime slice in it all night, but Ashton just assumed it was gin and Sprite.

“Do you want some juicy  gossip? You'd be the second person to know. Well, I told Molly, so third.”

“What do you know?” Ashton didn't know if they were talking about his antics the night before or Grace, but either way, he was interested.

“Grace is pregnant.” Even though no one else was around, Simone still whispered the news.

After inhaling a huge breath of fresh morning air, Ashton lunged closer to the little girl in Simone's arms and poked at her tummy, “Do you hear that, Molls? You're going to have a little buddy!”

“Michael doesn't know.” Simone jumped in quickly, speaking from behind Molly to make it seem as if her daughter was the one dropping the hot gossip mom.

“Alright, start from the beginning.” Moving away from Molly and Simone, Ashton went closer to the pool wall, resting against it to focus on his wife. He really wished he had thought to bring his sunglasses out from his suitcase.

“She told me yesterday when we were in Cagney's suite because she was having a hard time staying awake. She wanted to know my tricks.” Unfortunately, Simone didn't have any. She hadn't gone through the exhaustion a lot of women feel during their first trimester. In fact, she was full of energy until the last month. “She's not really sure how to tell Mike.”

“She wants to some kind of special reveal?” Ashton didn't quite understand.

“They've been at each other’s throats lately. Yesterday was the first time they hadn't fought in a long time and I think that's because they were too busy.” Michael had been in Luke's wedding party and Grace was helping the girls get ready, looking after guests from out of town, and trying to lend a hand where she could. Ashton nodded as he listened to Simone. He remembered Michael telling him as they were drinking with Luke and the rest of his buddies in the limo that Grace had told him to go fuck himself the night before, leaving him to sleep in the hotel bath tub with a blanket and pillow that a maid brought up.

“They love each other though.” Shrugging it off, Ashton said without a care. Nobody ever questioned the affection between Grace and Michael. There had been times where they were threatening to break up with one another and then five seconds later Michael was cursing out a random guy in a club for looking at Grace the wrong way or standing too close. Their relationship was hot to the touch, but Ashton assumed they wanted it that way. “Michael once said he likes when she's angry because then she wants to be on top.” Ashton had no idea why he remembered that. He was a little embarrassed that none of them had been classy enough to keep information about their sex lives to themselves except for Calum.

“Well, she's worried.”

“They weren't trying?”

“She said they've just stopped using protection, but that was before they started fighting.”

“Mike's wanted to have kids since he met her. He'll be so happy.” Ashton really wasn't concerned in the slightest, but he could read on Simone's face that she wasn't as optimistic.

“Yeah, it's not about him and his feelings.” Forever a feminist, Simone shot with a little spice on her words, earning a little kick in the water from Molly. “Grace doesn't come from a supportive household. She didn't have a mother figure. She's very scared she will fail at it. Oh God, Ash, it was awful. She literally said, 'What if I'm as bad at it as I was at acting and everything else?' My heart would have broke if Cagney hadn't come out two seconds later in her dress.” The hairstylist really had looked like a vision. Nobody thought Luke would cry, but the moment Simone saw her friend in white she texted Ashton and told him she was changing her bet. A hundred dollars that the groom would weep – and she was right.

“How far along is she?” Ashton asked, knowing Simone had all the details. His wife never got involved in anything without gathering all the information. He always thought of her as a squirrel when she was in work mode, collecting everything and anything she could get her hands on.

“11 and a half weeks.”

“I would kill you if you waited that long to tell me.” Without any thought or regard for Grace, Ashton said with an eye roll that almost went around twice.

“Well, good thing she isn't your wife. She can handle this however she wants. I won't fault her for any decision she makes. We are supporting her, Ashton.”

“I feel like I should tell Mike.” A few seconds of uneasy silence drifted between them, but Ashton pushed off of the wall and waded closer to Simone and Molly, kissing his daughter's cheek and then his wife's lips, soft from a beeswax lip balm.

“Don't.” Whispering, Simone advised. “I'm only telling you because I can't keep anything from you, not because I want you to get involved.” She knew that wasn't easy for him, but it wasn't their issue to meddle in. “They'll be fine. She's just frightened.” Even though Molly's experience had been very different, she could still empathize with her friend. For her, the fear didn't arrive until the contractions did. That was when it truly felt real

***************************

Enjoying a sip of hair of the dog from a flat beer left open on the floor from the night before, Michael laid out on the chair he moved near the hotel balcony. He enjoyed the sunlight pouring into the room, bathing him from head to toe in the bright explosion of colour. It was a gorgeous morning after one Hell of a night. He opened up his laptop on his lap and looked over at his sleeping wife while the home screen loaded. It was very strange for her to still be asleep while it was almost eleven in the morning. Usually, he was the one to crash into the afternoon while she went to an early morning spin class and ran errands about town, meeting with friends for lunch, and picking up dry cleaning and organic groceries. He just assumed she was either fully emerging into vacation mode or that she had danced herself exhausted at Luke and Cagney's reception. Michael hadn't realized yet that Grace had been napping lately. He just thought she was taking breaks from him. They had been pushing one another’s buttons a lot more furiously lately. It seemed like all he had to do was squeeze her too tight and she was jumping down his throat.

She was beautiful though. Michael still felt like he had won the lottery. For all of Grace's flaws, she was still the soft 'good morning' and 'good night' sound that he missed when they were apart. She was the first person to make him feel truly needed. It had always been him who loved fiercely and grew attached to other people, but Grace relied on Michael when she was down, she craved his jokes and his arms, and it made him feel unstoppable. She was one of the toughest people he had ever met, but yet, she genuinely needed him. They could fight like they were being paid to, but Michael never lost sight of how important they were to one another. He smiled at her completely still body until his laptop released a bright beep as his fingers mindlessly typed the wrong password.

“Oh, fuck.” He hissed at the machine, settling down his stale beer on the floor to use both hands this time. The beep hadn't interrupted Grace's slumber in the slightest, but Michael's curse did. Stirring, her eyes fluttered open and she wiped at her face, smudging the already creased makeup from the night before that she hadn't washed off. She had remembered to remove her flash lashes though. They were resting with dry glue all over them on the night stand by her side. “I was trying to be quiet.” Michael chuckled at himself and confessed.

“It's alright.” Grace pulled herself up by one side and reached for her phone that was resting by the curled up lashes. She checked the time and noted that she had missed a phone call from her doctor's office back in New York. “I should be up anyway.” She was really not used to how tired she had become. It was as if she hadn't stopped yawning the moment the strip turned pink on the pregnancy test. To be honest, she couldn't believe Michael was up. He had been rowdy the night before. She thought for sure he would sleep the whole day away like a bear would the winter season.

“Uhh...I slept in the bed next to you last night.” Michael had his laptop open on his knees, but gave Grace his attention. He liked watching her this way. It had been a while since he watched her unwrap her naked body from bed sheets, messy hair falling around her like a waterfall of tangles. “I hope that's alright. I guess, I just passed out.” They had been too busy with helping their friends get married to properly sort of their argument from the night before. Michael didn't dare say it out loud, but he couldn't remember what it was about. He knew he made an off hand comment about the wedding they were all in Brisbane for and that Grace took it the wrong way. Next thing he knew, he was banished to the bath tub since the hotel was out of extra rooms thanks to Luke's nuptials.

“Yeah.” Throwing her hair back from the front, Grace confirmed. “I asked you too.” She reminded him. Drunk Michael had been clumsy, but gracious. He was on his way to his makeshift bathroom bed when she asked him to cuddle her close.

Michael's face didn't hide any of his surprise, but a crooked smile tiptoed over his face, “I wish I could remember.” The night was a blur at best.

“We were about ten seconds into sex before we stopped because you kept saying you couldn't find me.” She informed him. “You said we were spinning.” She was the queen of messy sex, but it just didn't feel right with him slurring his words and losing track of his own limbs. “So, we just cuddled.” Grace watched as Michael just smiled at the words she was saying. “It was nice.”

“You're not mad at me?” He checked, removing his laptop from his person and closing it on the way to the floor.

“No. I love drunk Michael.” That wasn't always her stance on him intoxicated, but she was trying to put their recent troubles aside. “He thinks I'm beautiful.”

“Sober Michael thinks you're beautiful too.” Frowning at her with the corners of his mouth down and his eyebrows closing over his eyes, Michael informed her. “You seem to always forget that somehow, how in love with you I am.” Shaking his head, he rejoined her in bed. She was sitting up, but he pulled her down with his arms wrapped around her chest and curled her into him, his lips finding different tangles of hair to kiss vivaciously. “We have a couple more days here. Anything you want to do?” Michael checked in, purring in her ear as his grip around her shoulder loosened so he could roam elsewhere around her warm body. The sun had toasted them both perfectly this morning.

“I told Simone we would watch Molly tomorrow.”

“Yeah?” Pulling away from her head, Michael checked. That was news to him.

“How often do her and Ash get time together, right?” Between her company and Ashton's commitments to the band, it was a miracle they ever saw one another. Now with a baby in the mix, Grace just assumed the two of them lived completely separate lives that were forever dowsed in breast milk and drool.  It was one of the many things that frightened her about motherhood.

“Yeah, no, it's cool. I just didn't know. What do you do with a three month old anyway?” He asked and then wondered if that was actually how old Molly Irwin was.

“You don't know?” Very scared, Grace checked, pushing away from Michael and furiously studying his face as if the actual answer was written somewhere between his forehead and left nostril.  “I don't know either. I guess we just feed her and put her down and don't like...throw her around like a football.” She rambled.

“I wasn't planning to do that.” He laughed at her, shaking his head. “Are you sure you want to babysit? You seem a little freaked out.”

“Of course, I do.” Grace scoffed like  he was crazy. “It'll be fine. It won't be hard.” She said to mostly herself.

“Well, what about today? We have the whole day ahead of us.” Even though Brisbane was special to Cagney and Luke, Michael wasn't sure if Grace had been there before. He wanted to seize this moment where she was feeling calm and they were in a good place. “Whatever you want to do, okay?” If she just wanted to hang out in the room and stay naked, he would be very okay with that, but if she wanted to call some friends and go out, Michael would make that happen as well.

“Could we talk?” Grace also wanted to take advantage of the warmth between them. She had been craving the current closeness she was feeling, their legs between one another's and their stomachs pressed together. The thin grey fabric of Michael's boxer briefs that he had wrestled into that morning were the only thing between them. It felt exactly how it should feel and Grace figured if there was a perfect time to tell him that she was pregnant, it was right now.

“Yeah. What about?” He always worried when they were in the middle of a bad spell that this would be the time she grew tired of his bullshit and wanted out. He had a full on panic attack the day after she accepted his proposal that one day she would get over him and leave. Calum had to punch him in the stomach to get him to snap out of it and focus on the song they were trying to record. “Fuck, did I say something stupid last night? You know I talk out of my ass when I'm drunk...” Michael rolled his head back on a pillow and pinched the middle of his forehead. He wished he could remember, but figured if he had done or said something unforgivable it might be better that it was lost in a fog. “I know it's not an excuse, but I'm sure I didn't mean it.” He reached for either of her hands under the table, massaging her knuckles with his thumb once he had one. Michael really wanted a break from the fighting.

“Stop.” Grace rested her forehead on his and exhaled against him as he released a heavy breath. They both were in desperate need of a teeth brushing. “I'm not upset about last night. You didn't say anything stupid. Well, you told Calum that he was too scrumptious to ever feel lonely and we all thought that was bizarre, but it's fine.” Grace weaseled her hand out from under Michael's and wrapped it around his knuckles, bringing it up to her dry lips for a kiss.

“Then what is it?” His nerves hadn't subsided in the slightest.

Grace inhaled as deep as she could, just the way she did when she tried her first cigarette: closing her eyes, sucking in until she felt her ribs ache, and then releasing slow enough to worry if she looked cool or not to the strangers around her. She noticed how anxious Michael looked and knew that she had past the point of no return. It wasn't as if she could just smile, shrug, and say, 'Nothing, nevermind.' He would either force it out of her or have a pounding rock in his chest for the rest of the day.

“Are you looking forward to a day with Molly tomorrow?” Kissing his knuckles again, she asked as casually as she would ask him if he wanted milk in his morning coffee or not.

“What?” Michael's eyes remained wide while his eyebrows thickened over top of them. “Um, I guess?” She was being weird, but Michael knew better than to point that out to her. “I don't know. She's a baby. She's my best friend's baby.” Michael didn't really have any feelings about it. It wouldn't be the worst by any stretch of his imagination, but he could think of many other activities that he would enjoy more.

“I'm just checking.”

“That's what you wanted to talk about? My interest in babysitting?”

“No...” Shaking her head, Grace grew meek for a second. She was always bombastic. There was nothing shy about the aspiring actress. It was, perhaps, Michael's favorite thing about her. Even if no one else thought she was a star, she refused to not shine.

“Grace, what's going on?” He laughed and poked at her stomach as she started to fold the blanket she was under between them. Michael had to fight to find her body that he had been tangled up with just seconds before.

“I'mpregnant.” She grumbled from behind her teeth that were locked behind shut lips and covered by the top of the sheets. Her eyes watched Michael, but he just leaned his head in to try and hear her better.

“What did you say?” He squinted at her if that would help his hearing. It was hard to hear her behind all her layers of armor, but his chuckling at her strange behavior wasn't doing him any flavors either. Michael pulled down the blanket from her chin as Grace said it again, only making him laugh more.

She prepared herself with a heavy breath again and threw her hands over her face, releasing the two words together again. This time she wasn't met with any poking or wrestling from Michael. She couldn't hear a breath from him, his laughing had stopped entirely. Grace spread her perfectly manicured fingers open and spied Michael through the openings between her index and middle. He was staring at her stunned, but somewhat suspicious with his left eye widened just slightly bigger.

“Did you just say what I think you said? Did you say that you are...? Grace...?” Michael checked slowly, watching her nod. Once her chin was completely engulfed by her neck and the bed sheets, Michael laid back down and put his own hands over his face, mimicking how she was just a moment ago.

Grace sat up with fear, her hands down on her knees as she tried to study Michael's hidden face just as he had been doing with hers moments ago, “What?” She snapped. “What is it? What are you thinking?” Her biggest fear was that he had the same questions she did. Grace instantly figured that Michael thought she would be the worst mother in the world even though he once told her before they had sex that he thought she would be an incredible parent, that he hadn't known if he wanted to be a dad himself until he took up with her.

“I'm thinking I can't wait to show them Howl's Moving Castle...” Michael admitted once his hands were down by his sides, exposing his rosy cheeks. Grace didn't have a second to ask him what that was before he had her pinned down, straddling her hips and kissing her face from chin to forehead. “This is crazy!” His best friend just tied the knot the night before and now he was finding out he was expecting. Michael felt like he was going to explode. He was the sun screaming into their room, but louder. As Grace laughed beneath him, he thought about running around the room in his underwear and then taking to the halls. Michael calmed down for just a moment and rested his head on her shoulder, breathing in her natural scent as his mind reeled through different movies he was going to introduce his kid to, matching Metallica shirts he could dress them in, and teaching them all the words to his favorite songs. They would have to move out of their condo and into a house. His kid was going to have a backyard and basement. “I'm going to practice throwing Molly in the air tomorrow and catching her. That's what Dad's do.” He whispered against Grace's skin, his excitement dancing out of the softness in his voice. He hadn't noticed,  but Michael had put both his palms flat on her stomach, feeling nothing and everything all at once.

“Ashton would kill you if you dropped her.” Grace chuckled back, her head cheek resting on top of his bedhead. “If Simone didn't first.” She mused.

“I can't wait to tell them.” He said unaware that those two already knew. “Oh shit, my parents are going to freak out. Let's take them out for dinner tonight?!” He popped his head up so quickly that Grace barely had time to move her own.

“Wait. You're not scared?”

“No!” As if she was insane for asking, Michael shouted. “This is awesome. Our kid is going to have your gorgeous face, my taste in music, and they're going to be amazing. This is the best.” He couldn't believe she wasn't jumping up and down like he was.

“I'm terrified.”

“That's probably normal. You could talk to Simone about it.”

“What if I'm like my mom?” Very seriously, Grace asked. He softened again, realizing just how real her question was. They so rarely discussed Grace's family. She had once changed the subject to Charles Manson when Michael asked about her parents because that was more pleasant for her. Michael was silent for a moment before shaking his head to and fro' like a dog trying to dry off after running through the backyard sprinkler.

“Nope. No. I don't need to know that lady to know that won't happen.” Michael crawled up onto his knees and  found both her hands, curling them up in his. “You are supportive and protective, you are tough and kind at the same time. This kid is so lucky. There is nothing even remotely monstrous about you. You were built for anything.”  He watched as she believed him, her eyes adoring him while her fears were released through her lips warbling.

“You always know what to say.” She sighed. It was times like these that she understood why songwriting came so easy to her husband. He had a way with words that could calm anyone down. It was mind boggling to her that he was the same man who could make dick jokes at the wrong moment and talk with his whole foot in his mouth sometimes.

Michael leaned down and kissed her, slowly and sucking on her bottom lip before quickly letting go to pull the covers off of her and kiss her exposed stomach with a loud 'smack'.

“Can we run around naked now? Come on! Come on!” He lifted up her arms and bounced on the bed, her smile allowing laughter to erupt wildly from her mouth. Unbeknownst to her, Ashton was right. There was nothing to worry about. “This is awesome! This is awesome!”

[scientifically-strange]

I love your defenders fic. Could you do one where stick introduces phantom to the team to fight the hand or something? Btw the way you write their dynamic is spot on!!

"Stick, who is this?" Daredevil asked,glaring at him from under the mask. Whoever his old mentor had brought, he was...An anomaly, to say the least. His heart was strong, but pumping at such a sluggish pace he shouldn't be awake, and the smell. It was something...foreign, like it didn't really belong on this planet, mixed with a little bit of cheap cologne. When he shook hands with this guy he could feel the cold through his glove.

"I'm Phantom," he said, giving the group a smile. He brushed his white locks out f his eyes and held out his hand for the others to shake, but nobody else seemed interested. Te dude with curly hair narrowed his eyes at Phantom,looking almost afraid.

"What are you?" He asked, taking a protective step forward.

"Er...A ghost...Hence the name? I mean, come on, man," Phantom answered with a roll of his eyes.

"I brought him here so he could help you all defeat the hand," Stick interrupted, limping forward.

"Where the hell did you even find a ghost?" Jessica asked, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Phantom a once-over.

"I summoned him," Stick answered casually.

"Right," Luke said. "Because it's so easy to think that that's possible."

"Well, if you would get your head out of your ass it wouldn't be a problem. Now-"

"-How did you summon him?" Jessica interrupted. "Was it random or is he someone big and powerful?"

"He's a very special ghost, very powerful, and there are only three of his kind in existence, so yes, it was specific, no it wasn't hard, and you can ask him about it later."

"He's just a kid!" Luke protested. Phantom glared slightly.

"Hey, man, I'm fifteen! That's almost an adult!"

"Whatever, Pipsqueak. Whatever helps you sleep at night," Jessica said, sarcasm oozing out with every word.

"Do ghosts even sleep?" Daredevil wondered aloud.

"It doesn't matter," Stick said, bringing them back to the real problem. "What matters is that we have extra fire power against the Hand."

"Can anybody fill me in on the Hand? I'm sure knowing what I'm fighting will be helpful."

"Why do you even want to do this?" Danny asked, eyes narrowed. "They haven't wronged you in any way."

"Well, Stick summoned me, so I kind of have to do what he says. And he's saying beat the Hand, or whatever, so I will.

"Later," Stick said again. "Right now, we need to focus. What's the game plan?"

"So how long have you been dead?" Luke asked as they walked through the creepy hallways of the Hand's base. It was sterile and white-blindingly so, and it unnerved the both of them. Danny shrugged.

"About a year ago. There was a lab accident and I got electrocuted with ten thousand volts of ectoplasmic electricity."

"That doesn't sound fun."

"It wasn't."

"Yeah. So what, you just run around and fight crime?" There was a bit of joking in his tone, but Danny knew he was at least half serious.

"Kind of. It was mostly just ghosts that kept coming out of the Ghost Zone, I just kept throwing back in. I mean, I saved the world once, too. That was cool, I guess."

Luke raised an eyebrow at that. He had never caught wind of a ghost apocalypse or anything remotely similar. The only earth-shattering things that have happened are the Battle of New York and whatever the fuck went down in Sokovia with that robot guy. But the kid didn't look like a good liar. Maybe he was telling the truth.

"What about you?" Phantom asked a few minutes later. Luke shrugged.

"Prison experiment gave me super strength and bulletproof skin."

"Cool."

The original four didn't know what to expect when Phantom fought alongside them. Yeah, they expected him to use his ghost powers, but ghost powers mixed with martial arts? That was a whole new level. He was sending ecto-powered roundhouses and ice-covered punches. It was truly amazing to glance at the smooth motions when fighting their own villain.

"Who are you? Bakuto asked, astounded that he couldn't even really touch this new guy. That had been a rare thing to occur, and now, with the kind of energy this guy was giving off, it was just unnerving.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Phantom taunted, dodging a punch thrown near his face. At times like this he couldn't have been more thankful his mother taught him some martial arts. If he had only his ghost powers in this fight, he knew he would probably be screwed.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to switch dance partners," Bakuto said, not at all upset by it. He back-flipped out of the way and towards the elevator. Danny was about to go after him when a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. He whirled around, ready to strike, but instead came face to face with Jessica.

"Later," she said. "Right now? Devil Boy's ex-girlfriend."

Danny found himself having a hard time coming up with the nerve to say no to her, so he just did as he was asked, and flew over to Elektra.

There was something about fighting her that was different. Yeah, she was no Bakuto, but it felt like she was on her own level, at the very top of the pyramid, and it scared Danny down to his core. She was able to hit him, and it was like his fists went right through her. Even with his enhanced strength and other ghost powers, his martial arts were nowhere near her level.

"Curious little child, aren't you?" She said, easily dodging a kick from Phantom. He threw a punch, and then another kick. This time she caught it, gripping his ankle with a sort of strength he thought only Jessica possessed, and threw him into the cavern walls, right in between two rib bones of the dragon that held everything up.

All of a sudden, everything started rumbling, and shaking uncontrollably. Colleen and Misty must have finally set off the explosions, which meant they didn't have a lot of time to patch this up. He could get his friends out of here, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get the Hand leaders out. But Stick had said, before he died, that they were gonna kill them, and although he wanted to go against that and save everybody, the summoning contract prevented him from doing so. Stick may be dead, but the mission was still not complete, and if the mission wasn't complete then he was still at the mercy of Stick's friends until the hand was defeated. Whether or not that meant for good escaped Danny.

"Phantom, let's go," Danny said, worried. He, Luke, and Jessica were already heading for the elevator. And while he really wanted to, he couldn't just leave Daredevil to fight Elektra by himself. He shook his head and headed back to the fight. Daredevil stopped him though.

"You need to go with them," he whispered in Phantom's ear. Phantom reeled back, surprise written on his face.

"I can't just leave you here, you'll-"

"-You need to get them out fo here. That elevator won't last forever, and they need someone who can fly to get them out," Daredevil cut off.

"...But what about you?" Phantom looked at him pleadingly, not wanting to leave his friend behind at the hands of Elektra and unstable foundation.

"I'll be fine," he lied. "Someone has to keep Elektra down here."

"Why not me then?" Danny countered. "I'm already dead!"

"Because Elektra is my responsibility."

There was something in his voice that made Phantom actually consider. It was a sort of desperation, like maybe if he got through to her they wold somehow survive what was about to happen. It left no room for argument, and Danny, although begrudgingly, nodded.

"After I get them out, I'll come back for you," he said. Daredevil only nodded. Phantom left, leaving the same way the others had.

He flew up the elevator shaft, worry in his gut at both Daredevil, and the sight before him. The cable had broken, but had been caught by Jessica, who was now holding up a giant elevator with both the weight of Danny and Luke. He admired her strength, and a part of him actually got a little jealous. But he couldn't think about that now. Now, he needed to focus.

He flew up, grabbing Luke and Danny by their arms and lifted them up into the air. Jessica let go of the thick cables and the elevator dropped. He set the boys down next to her and floated in front of them.

"I can get you all out of here quick. You just need to hold tight and trust me, yeah?" he said. There was another large rumble, and the walls around them shook. Jessica wasted no time climbing on Phantom's back, ready to get out of there. Danny and Luke, though hesitant, linked arms with the kid. They weren't sure how well he was gonna be able to get all three of them out of there, but anything at this point was worth a shot. They had wasted to much time talking and not enough running. If it weren't for Phantom they would never be able to get out.

"We'll be fine as long as you guys don't squirm around to much," Phantom grunted as he lifted them up. All of the passengers aboard the S.S. Phantom felt a tingling sensation throughout their whole bodies. It was a cold trail down their spines and into their fingertips as they flew higher and higher. They had gained speed, and were now heading straight for a large rock that had gotten in the way because f of the explosions.

"Phantom-" Danny warned, but was cut off by them going through the damn thing. Phantom grunted, and Luke could see the sweat beads at his forehead, and couldn't help but feel a little sorry. After all, he was just a kid who had been pulled into this by some crazy old blind man who thought he had a say in everybody's fate. And on top of all that he was dead. That brought forth a new can of worms and Luke wasn't to willing to open it until much later, after all of this had blown over.

What would have taken much to long, Phantom got done in a few short minutes. The kid breathed a sigh of relief when they hit the surface, and the tingling sensation they all had went away as Phantom did his best to set them down gently over just dropping them on their asses. Phantom touched down to, his shoulders sagging slightly. He looked pretty tired for a ghost, and none of them could really blame him.

He looked instantly alert though when another boom went off. Phantom whirled around, only to watch with the others as the building they had been in sunk into the ground, down the giant hole were Daredevil was still fighting Elektra.

"No!" Phantom yelled. He wasted no time in flying back up and into the hole, not bothering to wait for the dust to settle. Jessica stepped forward, worry set in her features.

"He's not going ot make it."

Phantom didn't get there before the building reached the bottom of the hole, but that didn't stop him from looking around for any sign of Daredevil or Elektra. He said he would come back, he couldn't let Daredevil down now. Not when he was so close.

Danny didn't know how long he looked. He tried getting every nook and cranny covered, and he was sure that he did, but the only things he found were old dragon bones and the remains of the Hand leaders, which was horrifying in and of itself.

When his core started to pull at him, telling him it was too much, he headed back up. Once he breached the surface for a second time, he dropped his intangibility and pulled on his invisibility. The tingling pull from his core felt like a safety blanket, knowing nobody could see him. There were firefighters and police officers, along with a few reporters and pedestrians. He didn't see any of his friends down there, but one look at the horizon and he knew why.

The sun was starting to rise.

He was tired, and had been up for days. He needed a place to rest, to regenerate, and to eat as much pizza as he could fit. He took out his phone, choosing between which one of them was probably going to let him crash at their place for a few hours. He decided Luke was probably his best option, and set a quick text. The reply was almost immediate, and with his address.

When Danny got to Luke's, he scared the shit out of his girlfriend when he flew through the wall instead of just knocking like a normal person. She was about to hit him with a vase before Luke stopped her and told her who he was. Danny would have laughed if the situation had been different. He's sure they all would, if things had turned out better.

"Hey, man," Luke said, pulling Claire towards him a little. He gave Phantom a soft smile. "How are you holding up?"

A tightness pulled at Danny's chest, and part of it wasn't just from his core. Part of it was from the feeling of failure to do what he had promised Daredevil. He sighed and shrugged, stepping down. As soon as his feet were solidly planted, he fell to his knees, to exhausted to even stand. Claire was at his side in an instant, but backed away quickly when a bright light appeared around Phantom's waist and separated into two rings, going up and down his body. Luke shielded his eyes, and when he looked back again, he was starring at a black haired kid asleep on his floor.

"What the hell?" Claire asked. Luke could only shrug as he bent down and picked Phantom up bridal style before laying him down on the couch. Claire threw a blanket over him, checking his pulse for a brief moment before pulling away.

"He's breathing, and his pulse is slow but strong. You said he was a ghost, right?" Clair asked. Luke nodded, and then so did Claire. "That's probably normal for him then." She looked up at Luke, and then down at the sleeping teenager who looked like he could use ten sandwiches. She hugged his arm, leaning into him, and he rubbed his thumb over her shoulder comfortingly.

"How are you holding up?" She asked him. He shrugged and sighed.

"I'll manage," he replied. He looked down at Phantom, and something protective twisted in his stomach.

Luke would manage.

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

Shit, dude, I;m sorry this took so long. College and work have been keeping me busy. I hope you enjoy it though!

[shadowsong26fic]

Yet Another AU because I love these things

This idea actually came up in discussion with my Roommates last month, but I decided to do a Distaff variant instead b/c I’m so so sorry it was late. (Is still late...)

[The other AU outlines I’ve done can be found in the tag]

Anyway. We all love time travel fics, right? Here’s one with Luke. Tiny, precious, twelve-year-old* Luke.

Who jumps back to the last year/year and a half of the Clone Wars.

And lands on Ventress.

*Luke is possibly ten instead? Somewhere in that range, anyway. We’ll say twelve for now.

ANYWAY, Luke is off exploring/goofing off, as bored kids do, and he comes across a narrow, winding little canyon he’s never seen before.

“Huh,” he thinks. “Could’ve sworn I knew this part of the desert better than this.”

Naturally, he decides to see where it leads. He finished his chores early today, and there’s still a few hours before dark, so he has time. Adventure!

Except then things get...weird.

He could swear he’s only been walking an hour, but it’s suddenly dark. And, when he turns around to retrace his steps, all he sees is solid rock.

“I’ve got a Bad Feeling(tm) about this...”

There’s no way to go but forward, so he does. Especially when he catches a glimpse of a campfire flickering up ahead.

He knows there’s a good chance whoever built it is Not Friendly--he’s not an idiot--but he is beyond lost, he’s got no supplies...he figures it’s worth taking a chance. At least peeking a little closer. So he heads for the fire to ask for help.

And there, he finds Ventress! Ventress has just finished a job.

This is a few weeks after her and Obi-Wan vs. Maul and Savage.

Why is she camping in the desert? ...reasons.

So, this random kid comes up to her. This--bright, shiny, supernova-in-the-Force kid.

....okay, then.

Ventress really does not have time for this shit.

When he asks for her help, she considers telling him to get lost. See above, re: no time for this shit. Also, she’s really, really uninterested in babysitting a brat who was stupid enough to wander off in the desert like this.

Except the alternatives to keeping him are killing him (which would be...pointless, really; also she’s not super-interested with killing a random kid who’s no threat to her at this point in her timeline, unless she’s being paid for it), or sending him off to a slow death via desert or Sand People (which is just lazy; if you’re gonna kill someone, freaking do it.)

Besides, maybe his parents will pay her if she brings him home. Not a lot--he’s dressed like a small-time farmer--but, hey, every penny counts.

“You can stay here tonight,” she finally says. Might as well keep her options open.

He brightens. “My name’s Luke,” he offers.

“I don’t care,” she grumbles. “Go to sleep.”

Things get...messy...the next morning.

See, that bounty Ventress just collected? Someone else thinks it was his, and resents her poaching.

He and a bunch of his heavily-armed friends track her down, catching up with her and Luke just as they’re breaking camp.

Naturally, a fight ensues.

Ventress is exceptional, but vastly outnumbered.

Luke is tiny and inexperienced, but a) he knows the desert, b) he’s a decent shot, and c) he can hotwire a speeder in under thirty seconds.

Suffice to say, with Luke being a major contributor, they kick some ass and escape unharmed on a bike Luke stole from one of the other bounty hunters.

Ventress grudgingly admits that the brat was kind of useful back there, and he possibly just saved her ass a little bit--or at least spared her some inconvenient and painful injury--so maybe she shouldn’t demand a ransom after all.

She sighs, and instructs him to pull over so she can drive--kid’s good, but she has her dignity to think of--and tells him she’ll take him home, make sure he gets there safe, then take the bike and leave.

Things get weird again when they get to the Lars homestead.

Luke has her stop at the edge of the property. “This isn’t right,” he says, biting his lip. There’s supposed to be another building right there; he and Uncle Owen just finished putting it up last season. And the closest vaporator is an older model; one he vaguely remembers trying to climb as a toddler, before it was replaced.

Also, he’s pretty sure that old man is his step-grandfather, who died before he was even born.

“What about it?” Ventress asks. She can feel the Force swirling around them, around Luke, like ripples spreading out from a stone dropped in a pond.

“This is my uncle’s farm, but it’s wrong.”

And he sort of--sort of--has a clue, because there’s Stories, about people wandering into the desert and coming back to find that years have passed in a night. But things are a different kind of wrong. He’s never heard about anyone going backwards. Besides, that’s all they were--stories. Right?

He takes a deep breath. “What year is it?” he asks, after a long minute.

She quirks an eyebrow and tells him.

“That doesn’t make sense!” He blurts out what year it’s supposed to be.

Which...actually does make a weird amount of sense to her. Because of the way he casts ripples in the Force, if nothing else.

And, honestly, she’s seen weirder crap than time-travelling twelve-year-olds. She led a zombie army, for crying out loud.

Luke is freaking out a little bit, so she punches him to get him to shut up.

She points out that, while ideally he gets back to his own time, he still needs to survive until he figures out what the hell happened, let alone how to reverse it. “Lucky, you have a home where you can wait all that out.”

(A part of her knows that’s a stupid idea--whatever brought him back here, either it’ll work in its own damn time or he’ll need information he sure as hell won’t get on tiny farm in the middle of nowhere on freaking Tatooine.)

“They don’t know me yet,” he says sadly, scuffing the ground a little.

....no, she insists to herself. She does not need a kid tagging along, especially one this bright with power who has no idea how the world works. At least in the here and now.

But he’s quick on his feet, and keeps a level head in a crisis.

And he is a decent shot.

And one hell of a getaway driver.

Besides, she can always ditch him later if he gets too annoying. Changing her mind in the other direction would be a lot harder.

“Fine,” she grumbles. “You can come with me. For now.”

“Okay,” Luke says. Where else would he go, anyway?

And thus begins the highly entertaining saga of Asajj Ventress luring twelve-year-old time-travelling Luke Skywalker into a Life of Crime.

Except, as the weeks and months pass, it becomes less her leading him into a life of crime (...well, it kind of is; he’s really, really good at stealing cars and Being a Distraction), and more her evaluating jobs based on how Sad Luke looks when she does something really unethical.

What, she thinks, what the hell is this. Why do I give a damn what the brat thinks? I did not sign up for a portable conscience! I am leaving him behind at the next port, I swear.

Except somehow she never does. She picks jobs that won’t disappoint Luke, and he uses his share of the profits to get shiny things that would make their ship so cool, Asajj.

Eventually, she gives up and accepts the inevitable. For as long as Luke is stuck in the past, he’s hers.

(She wishes, sometimes, that she could take him back to Dathomir, and introduce him to her sisters.)

(...important detail I forgot to mention before: she doesn’t know his full name. He didn’t give it when introducing himself, and she never bothered to ask.)

They probably have an Encounter with Boba Fett at some point.

Possibly Cad Bane or Hondo.

Maybe even BB!Han and/or Lando because why not.

So many possibilities...

Fast forward a bit. Luke and Ventress are hanging out on Coruscant, when she sees a familiar face with a  bounty attached.

(Anakin’s had some...weird...dreams the past few days. Not bad, not threatening, just...weird. Ever since he got recalled to investigate the Temple bombing. They’ve taken second place to said investigation, since they don’t seem to be urgent or anything, but--he’s maybe a little bit distracted.)

(Luke’s been dreaming, too. He told Asajj about them. She tells him to keep track of them, and tries to guide him through looking for what actual useful information might be in them, but dreams have never really been her strong suit...)

Anyway, Ventress tells Luke to stay in the apartment, and goes to Investigate.

The first bit, with Ahsoka, goes mostly as in canon.

With an added incentive for her pardon--if she’s free and clear, she can get Luke the help he needs, to figure out his dreams and find his way home.

(Honestly, she’s sort of surprised he hasn’t caught any eyes yet, shiny and powerful as he is. Jedi really are blind idiots.)

(And didn’t Dooku’s Master live on Coruscant? ...maybe she should take Luke somewhere safer...)

(After she helps Skywalker’s brat and earns her pardon.)

The part where she gets jumped by Barriss and loses her lightsabers does, too.

Except she called Luke to let him know she was on her way home. And when she doesn’t turn up, he goes looking for her.

And then Anakin tracks her down.

They fight; Ventress does her whole “Ahsoka and I have a lot in common. My master abandoned me, and that’s exactly what you did to her.”

That’s when she senses Luke getting close.

And, suddenly, it clicks.

Talk fast, she tells herself, because there’s no way this conversation ends well if Skywalker sees Luke now, with Tano still in play. (Because if he gets distracted and delays and fails to save his apprentice because of them...)

She gets out what she knows as quickly as possible.

Except Anakin senses him, too. And Ventress suddenly got tense and very to-the-point, with none of her usual banter.

But Ahsoka needs him right now; he has to fix that first.

But whatever’s going on here is Important; he knows that with every fiber of his being.

Besides, if Ventress is brushing him off, if she’s lying to him--

Anakin is thisclose to strangling her again when Luke comes charging in.

“Asajj!”

“I told you to wait for me in the apartment,” she snaps, trying to get between him and Skywalker before things get even more out of hand.

Anakin is VERY CONFUSED right now because what the hell is going on okay that’s definitely the presence I felt approaching but none of that explains why the hell Ventress has a kid with her.

Let alone why this kid feels so familiar.

Luke peers up at Anakin with big, puzzled blue eyes, trying to answer some of the same questions in his own mind.

“Don’t you have an apprentice to save?” Ventress cuts in, putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulling him behind her.

(Luke tries to wriggle past her; settles for peering out from behind her back.)

“Ventress--” Anakin starts.

“Well?” she prompts. “And isn’t that rescue time sensitive?”

He continues to hesitate a breath longer. But she’s right. He knows she’s right. 

"Maybe we can help,” Luke pipes up.

That, at least, seems to get through Skywalker’s thick skull. “No, I’ve got this,” he says. Then he glowers at Ventress. “But after I talk to Barriss--”

“I’ll be here, Skywalker,” she says, then, realizing her mistake, claps a hand over Luke’s mouth before he can blurt something out and hold the Jedi here any longer. “Run along now.”

He almost rises to the bait, then glances at Luke and turns and leaves again.

Ventress relaxes once Skywalker’s gone, and lets go of Luke’s mouth.

“He is not a navigator,” Luke says, sounding thoroughly awed.

“.......no,” she says. “Who told you he was?”

“My uncle,” Luke says. “He doesn’t talk about him much. He died before I was born.”

Ventress has a Very Bad Feeling(tm) about the future.

And she does some quick mental math.

Oh karking hell.

She takes Luke back to the apartment, and starts grilling him for details. Which she now realizes she probably should have done a long damn time ago.

Anakin, meanwhile, goes back to the Temple to confront Barriss. He’s still at least partway focused on that kid in the alley, which might affect the outcome of their duel.

She does still get captured, and Ahsoka’s innocence is still proved, though.

And Ahsoka still leaves.

So he’s still reeling, on several levels, when he goes back to look for Ventress and the kid.

He doesn’t have to look too hard; she lets him find them in an alley not too far from where they separated.

“Are you okay?” Luke asks.

“Sure,” he lies.

Luke looks up at Ventress, uncertain.

“Not here,” she says, and leads the way back to her apartment.

“I keep dreaming about you,” Luke blurts, as they walk. “I mean, I think I’m dreaming about you? It’s all sort of vague.”

Anakin thinks back on his own weird dreams the last few days, and nods. He has some kind of connection with this kid, and he can almost--

He stops, in the middle of the street. No...that’s not possible.

“Not here,” Ventress hisses. Luke takes his hand and tugs it.

They get to the apartment, and Luke confirms what Anakin has started to guess.

“I’m Luke Skywalker,” he says. “I’m from the future. And I’m your son.”

For a minute, Anakin just stares at him, because this can’t be real; he and Padme are so careful, and time travel is not a thing.

But he can feel the truth of what Luke is telling him.

Ventress waits until he settles, then follows up with a bombshell of her own.

“You know I’m not your friend. Or your Order’s. But I am Luke’s friend. And based on what he’s told me, about how and where he grew up--raised by people I had never heard of, and believe me, I know who most of your friends are. So we think something awful is about to happen. We don’t know what, exactly, but a lot of people are going to die.” She sighs. “And I suppose we want to help you stop it.”

...and that’s about as far out as I have planned in detail. But Padme, of course, will be brought in on this pretty much right away. Ventress will probably drag Obi-Wan in even if Anakin refuses; he owes her a favor and they parted on reasonably good terms, and he’s good at this sort of thing (“He looks a lot like Ben,” Luke muses, after meeting him; which just raises more questions), and once Luke shares the Emperor’s name...

Shit is going to Go Down.

Bonus:

MEANWHILE, BACK IN THE FUTURE

After Ben realizes Luke is missing, he sends a message to Bail, and then goes to try and find him...

[theseventeenthcentury-blog1]

New Musical Express 17 February 1996

LOOK BACK IN WRANGLER

His friends said his house smelt! His dad deserted him after a caravan holiday! And nobody ever understands the dysfunctional, heart-felt lyrics of his novelty Euro-electropop. LAWRENCE, aka DENIM, has a good old whinge to TED KESSLER about life, love and the trials and tribulations involved in recording his latest offering, 'Denim On Ice'. Agony and ecstasy: DEREK RIDGERS

The happiest day of Lawrence's life was when he came home from work to find his mum had finally killed the dog. And in the same week that his dad left home! How brilliant is that?

God, did he hate that dog. They all did: his mum, his sister, the rest of the village. Even his dad might have, but he'd stopped talking to Lawrence five years earlier so he couldn't be sure. Its fair to say, though, that dog had ruined Lawrence's life.

It wasn't just the smell of the thing; although, if we have to draw up a list of the beast's faults, that'd be top. He smelt so foul that Lawrence hadn't been able to bring his mates home since the day he'd returned from school, aged seven, with a friend who'd walked into the hallway and yelled, "Phroooar! What's that stink?"

Well, you know what kids are like. That was it. He'd have to do the visiting now. Everyone In the village thought he lived in a slum anyway. He wasn't going to let on that it ponged of a vicious dog that behaved like a mad pig.

So, when his mum woke to find his dad had left in the night, She decided to have the dog put down. Lawrence thought it was the coolest thing she'd ever done. He'd lost faith in her long ago when her response to his musical ambitions was, "People like us don't join groups", but, for a moment there, he'd seen a glimmer ...

When he moved away from Water Orton to live the life of an artist in the dull lights of Birmingham he cut all links to his mum. But killing that dog, man, killing that dog was very cool. Your dad splits but he leaves his dog so your mum kills his dog. Hmm ... maybe Lawrence had been a little harsh on her for that comment about his career ... Maybe there hadn't been a mistake at the hospital and maybe Lawrence really was related to his mum ... Maybe not speaking to her for the past 14 years was a little extreme ...

THE RACK by the sink is filled with freshly washed '70s RAK seven-inch singles, and although there is a pint of milk and a vacuum-sealed jar of nuts in the fridge, the only real source of nourishment in this kitchen is knowledge, because all the cupboards are filled with books. The living room has an armchair, a television, a stereo and cardboard boxes filled with old music magazines and the odd bit of fan mail. In the bedroom there's a futon, a swivel-chair and a tape-player. That's it. It's an immaculate, spartan, first-floor flat in a bold blue yuppie block overlooking the Thames by Tower Bridge. Now, who could live in a place like this?

There are two likely candidates: Luke Goss, former drummer with teen sensations Bros, and Lawrence, the most singular, visionary, driven and quietly ridiculed songwriter in contemporary British pop (Jarvis Cocker, Mark E Smith and Morrissey included). Since Luke Goss moved out a couple of months ago, Lawrence (he dropped his surname because it sounded too similar to two other singers: one in a '70s moody rock combo, the other in an '80s pop group; he keeps it a secret ... but it's Hayward) is the only pop star wannabe currently left in the block.

During the '80s Lawrence toiled with Felt, his labour of love, achieving his aim to release ten wildly contrasting albums (from guitar-fed indie angst to spooky jazz instrumentals to melancholic rock) in ten years. When Felt split he made for New York and returned with a new project: Denim. The idea for Denim was to mix his memories of the '70s with modern social comment and set it in a brash electronic '90s pop context. It would sound nothing like Felt, or indeed anything.

Denim's first album, '92's 'Back In Denim', was greeted with critical acclaim (nine out of ten in the NME), vilification (promotional copies were ritually burned by the missionary-position hacks) and commercial indifference. Lawrence, who'd hoped for pop worship after a decade of intense underground reverence, blamed 'Back In Denim's moderate sales on his then parent label London Records' insistence that the album be independently distributed. Now, he admits it may have been a blessing.

"A lot of the ideas I had for that record have since been very successful for others, although if you weren't paying attention it might have not seemed that way," he says wryly, on the edge of his bed. "But having seen what's happened to Jarvis, I may have been on the wrong track thinking I'd like to be famous. I'd like to be in the charts, but I'm not likeable enough to be a pop star. My views just aren't mainstream."

Next, he set about composing an even poppier follow-up called 'Denim On Ice', but last summer, halfway through recording it, his girlfriend called a halt to their four year on/off relationship, causing Lawrence a major crisis.

"I didn't even think of it as a relationship until she ended it, but then I totally changed my mind. It had been trouble recording the album before then, because it'd become really expensive and we were on a budget, but when she left it became double-trouble. I re-wrote a load of the lyrics and had to postpone doing the vocals for months."

What has eventually emerged is a cheesy pop album which sort of fuses Ian Dury with '90s Euro pop, and sounds like nothing you've ever heard, intertwining lyrical themes as diverse as pub rock ('The Great Pub Rock Revival': Lawrence imagines it's him versus the world when the NME endorses a Pub Rock revival next year), oral sex ('Grandad's False Teeth': when Lawrence's girl goes down on him, it's like she's wearing grandad's false teeth — she says the same of him. Walthamstow Kids Choir on one chorus) and junkies ('Glue And Smack': "When I wake in the morning/I greet the day with a smile/I pump stuff into my body/Then I reel around like a child"). When first aired in the NME office, some sat in awed wonder, others tried to throw the stereo from the window.

"I'm not surprised, becaust novelty has never been hip with people who think they're involved in serious music. I love music so much, I've had to form a novelty band because rock'n'roll is dead, It's over. As a serious art form, It's finished. All your heroes have blown it. No-one liked The Beatles during punk because there was so much else, but that's what 15-year-olds are into now. Electronic music has taken over and rock'n'roll will never have that force. Lyrically it will, if only someone out there could write. Why can't I make a record like Kim Wilde's 'Kids In America', but in a hip way?

"But I'm not wasting my time, I'm trying to do something new. Novelty music with a real social and personal comment on top. It hasn't been done before. What I liked about Lou Reed and Bob Dylan were the brilliant lyrics, but after 'Desire' why didn't Dylan use synths instead of saxes and soul backing singers? He wore flares, didn't acknowledge the new wave, and that dated him. It would be easy to do more Felt stuff with traditional instruments, but where's the challenge? Why not let the kids hear something different? But I'm not copying anyone. No-one does what I do. It's lonely out there."

LAST SUMMER, prompted by that girlfriend thing and the problems that recording 'Denim On Ice' provoked, Lawrence started thinking about his folks. He thought about his mum killing the dog, about his dad leaving home and about the fact that he hadn't spoken to his mum for 14 years, or his dad for nearly 20. He was approaching his mid-30s. They could die soon. He wrote his dad a letter.

It was a long, respectful, warm letter that asked why his old man had suddenly stopped talking to Lawrence when he came back from a caravan holiday.

"He wrote back, saying, 'Don't dwell on the past, son, look to the future!' That was it. It was so cold! My sister rang me and said, 'He's so happy you wrote!' I was, like, 'You want to read what he's written!' I went to see my mum and we talked about her washing machine. The emotional things of the past 15 years had been exhausted in 45 minutes. Didn't even mention the dog.

"It just made me realise how utterly alone I am. I feel totally isolated. I don't have a social life because I've got no rapport with anyone. I never bring people back here and get off on records because nobody shares my taste. I just sit here doing ... nothing, thinking.

"But I'm not alone. There's a whole generation of lonely, disaffected people out there and if they need someone to identify with, it's me, because I don't clock off. I don't get changed at seven and go down the pub because I don't even drink. Drinking's what old men do, and I've never wanted to be one. I think you can be a kid forever, gaining wisdom along the way. Life's a good journey, though, it's the one proper journey ..."

Time for the next leg. Lawrence is off to the studio to record a B-side ("It's called 'Wendy James' and it's pro: it's the one that will finish me off for most people") before rehearsals for Denim's Pulp support slot begin. He may feel like pop's Vasco Da Gama endowed with Howard Hughes' social skills, but the next album's already planned ...

It's called 'Denim Take Over'.