#the voice Owen did for Bill too always made me laugh

[snap-my-kneecaps]

Still thinking about the how during the final Once and For All, when Jack told Kath to keep her fingers crossed, Bill could be seen in the back crossing his fingers and mouthing ‘fingers crossed’ to Darcy

[andguesswhat]

The fool on the hill - Chapter 2

Thank you for your likes and reblogs and everything!

Hope you like the 2nd chapter too. Sorry for my bad English/writing. And I have no idea what happened to the formatting. But at the moment it's the idea that counts, right? 😅

Here's the link if you prefer the archive

Btw, Tom's birthday is Feb 9th, in case anyone is unfamiliar with such unnecessary knowledge ;)  and they filmed from Jan - Dec 2020, if someone gets confused.

Thirty-nine

*

After they were done with filming for that day, Tom had invited the crew to come to his little birthday party. They had given him a more than cool tesseract cake today and he wanted to return the favor. 

He looked around. 

Everyone was there but no Owen. 

Tom knew it was silly to be sad about it, but still..... He had been so looking forward to seeing him today on his birthday.

Owen had had his day off so they hadn't seen each other on set and Owen had said that he would come. So where was he? 

Tom sighed.

Well, he was a showman, after all. So he took a deep breath, tapped his spoon on his champagne glass to make himself known ... And smiled. 

"Ten years ago ... on my 29th birthday ... I was also on a film set ... playing Loki ..." he began his speech. 

"And I couldn't be prouder to be here now .... still playing Loki at..." he took a deep breath and contorted his face as if in pain, "thirty-nine!"

The crew cheered and someone shouted, "Wait until you're forty-nine and you're still wearing that leather suit!" It was Bill from the set design.

Tom laughed. "Yeah, you're right, Bill. Thirty-nine is no age for Loki. We will see what the future brings. Well, everyone, thank you for coming tonight." He pointed in the direction of the buffet. "And: I hereby open the little buffet. Please enjoy!"

The crew cheered again. 

It had been a great day for him so far, he absolutely loved filming Loki, the crew was fantastic, he got a cool cake … what more could he ask for actually?

Well, Owen if he was honest. He asked for Owen. 

To see him on his birthday. 

Tom sipped his champagne, mingled with the people, chatted with his colleagues, laughed with them, and politely thanked everyone for their birthday wishes.

Well, yes, he could always play the happiest person in the room, even if he wasn't. 

But suddenly someone tapped him on the shoulder, and when he turned around and finally saw Owen standing in front of him, smiling at him, cheekily like only Owen could, Tom definitely was the happiest person in the room. "Owen!" A rush of pure happiness ran through his body. And he really had to concentrate not to shout out Owen's name again. So he did it inwardly. 

Owen! 

And he smiled. And this time for real.

"Sorry I'm late," Owen apologized. "I got lost at the mall. I wanted to buy some socks for Mobius. I thought, how cool would that be if he had socks with little jet skis on them. You know, socks of his free will under his TVA suit." 

And Tom's smile became even wider.

Because what could you do when Owen told you, in his typical singsong voice, that he'd bought socks for his acting role. 

"I mean, I knew they wouldn't really have socks with jet skis on them," Owen went on, "but I found something similar. The kind with little waves on them...and beaches... and suns.. stuff like that."

God, Owen's devotion for Mobius hit Tom right in his heart and he was so speechless about that, he only managed to say, "That's ... so ... cool."

"Anyway," Owen handed him a small package, "I got these for you."

Tom felt like a stupid teenager, unable to cope to get a present from his high school crush, so again he ran out of words: "Thanks... Owen." 

"Happy birthday, man!" Owen hugged him and patted him on the shoulder. "Thirty-nine! How does that feel, huh?"

"Well, right now I feel better because you're here." And because Tom didn't know what that sounded like, he hastily added. "You being even a full decade older than me." 

"Well," Owen raised his eyebrows in understanding, "it's all a matter of maturity."

And Tom had to admit that Owen was right. 

Back in 2010 when they were filming Midnight in Paris Tom thought of Owen as a lovable great guy… but now… there was something else to it. Now he thought Owen was really attractive. Even with that mustache. Or maybe just because of it. Tom wasn't so sure about that. But he was afraid to think about it too long, so he looked at the little package Owen had given him. 

"So what's this?" 

Owen signaled him to unwrap it. 

So he did. And he really had to laugh out loud as he held a pair of socks with avocados in his hands. "Socks! You bought me socks, too!"

Owen grinned. "Yeah, I thought they might go with that nice jogging outfit of yours and make it even fancier, you know!"

"I'll bet, Owen," Tom laughed. "I'll bet."

And because he was so glad Owen was here, and that Owen had bought socks for Mobius and given him this sweet gift, he hugged Owen, even though they had just hugged. 

"Thank you, Owen."  

And maybe he hugged him a second too long, but it was his birthday, so he dared. 

When they parted again, Owen looked at him with those sparkling eyes that Tom loved so much.

"So, you've got to come to Maui sometime. There are like 200 different kinds of avocados there. Big ones like this!" Owen showed him the size, "and the Kahalu'u ... that's the best one." And he made a face like he was tasting something delicious.

Tom smiled to himself.

Because he realized that now it was exactly how he wanted it to be.

Talking and laughing with Owen on his birthday.

His party finally had begun. 

*

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (9/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 19,386

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

IX: 1987

-

It wasn't Jamie at Thanksgiving.

Jamie bringing Mikey. Jamie being charming. Jamie seated at the table with the whole family as though she’d never left. It wasn’t the way Dani had sat two seats down from her, wishing she could be close enough that their legs pressed together beneath the table, and in turn resenting herself for desiring such a thing in the first place. Here. Where Dani was surrounded by her fiancé and her future in-laws. Burying her nose in her wine glass against her better judgement until by the end of the night she had felt off-kilter, until she had needed to retreat to the bathroom to splash her face with cold water and sit atop the toilet seat with her head buried in her hands just to be alone for two minutes.

It wasn't Eddie's announcement that he'd booked the botanical gardens as their wedding venue for the next year.

Eddie telling her proudly after work one evening. Eddie listing off all the ways the venue suited their requirements. Eddie expecting her to be relieved that he’d taken such initiative to lift this burden from her shoulders, to allow her to focus on things like flower arrangements, and bridesmaids, and card stock for invitations. Dani had taken the news in stride. Her smile had been broad enough to pull at the seams until she felt like she might split open. She had let him kiss her on the cheek and take her out to dinner. She had let him place his coat around her shoulders, let him place his hand at the small of her back, let him place his hand on her knee the whole ride home.

It wasn’t even her mother dragging her off to Davenport on the weekend to try on wedding dresses.

The long car ride. Her mother in the driver’s seat, while Dani had tried to avoid conversation by staring at scenery through the window. Karen picking at every detail of the dresses that Dani had lingered over – this was too long, this was too ivory, this revealed too much of her back. Dani had let Karen speak with the store attendant instead, walking along a row of sumptuous dresses – innumerable yards of lustrous silk and satin, of muslin, velvet and lace – and unable to imagine herself in a single one. And after lunch, Dani had walked along the riverbank, gazing out across the sun-glinted water, and had thought faintly to herself that this was as close as she’d ever been to the state border. Wondered if she tried to sprint across the bridge, if she would be flung back, pulled by some greater gravity.

It was her car dying. That was what finally did it.

She'd had to call a tow, and Roger Simmons had let her hop into the passenger's seat with a kind smile as he dragged her car behind his truck all the way to the shop. The mechanic spoke like a coroner, coldly addressing what had done the old girl in, while Dani listened, hearing only a high whine in her ears, rising in pitch. In the end, Eddie had to come and pick her up to drive her home. She went in a daze, Jamie's coat draped over her shoulders, a wad of bills clenched in her fist – cash exchanged for scrap metal — and the box of precious things tucked beneath her crossed elbows.

It was the sleepless nights that followed. 

It was waking up to sounds of drumming against the walls, a hollow noise, a hollow bang, as though from a fury with an iron glove. And it was waking up again with a jerk, a cold sweat, clutching at her throat and struggling to breathe through the fading nightmare of a rope coiled and snapping taut. Outside, a car in the predawn dark would pace the restless streets, headlamps like eyes lighting up the blue dimity curtains of their bedroom window in passing. 

And Eddie slept through it all. Shivering with cold, Dani would curl up against his broad back, wrap an arm around him and lie awake until her body slowly warmed against his, until the rising sun began to tint the world a pallid ghostly grey. By the next morning, she would remember nothing of the terror. Only the cold. The deep and gripping cold. 

“Not to be rude or anything,” said Jamie, “but you look like absolute dog shit.”

Now, standing in the doorway to Jamie’s house, Dani laughed. An honest slightly maddened laugh. It was Sunday morning, and Dani could not remember a time when she had felt more tired. She held a bag of food from Owen's that she barely recalled picking up earlier. There was the impression of wandering all that way, as though sleep walking, drifting down the familiar streets and hardly registering the fact that her feet were carrying her to a predetermined destination. As though an internal compass had an arm fixed firmly and pointing towards Jamie.

"Thanks," Dani said when she finally managed to stop laughing — just on this side of hysterics — wiping at the corners of her eyes and smiling weakly.

Jamie stepped aside to let her in and shut the door behind her. "Have you not been sleeping? And where's your car?"

Dani had to swallow back a tightness in her throat. "I sold it," she said, taking off her shoes and setting them to one side. "It died and I sold it."

"Sorry to hear that,” said Jamie and she sounded genuine. “But, hey. If you ever want advice buying a new one and don't know what to look for, I can help."

Dani didn't want a new car. She didn't want any car that wasn't purely her own and nobody else's. A car bought with a joint account. A car chosen on someone else's recommendation — no matter how sensible. None of it was sensible; she didn't want sensible. She wanted to go back to 1981 and purchase a car that let her feel — for the first time in too long a time — free.

There was a gentle touch at her elbow, and Dani tensed. She turned to find Jamie watching her with a kindly expression. "You want a cup of tea?" Jamie asked. "Only — it looks like you need one."

Dani's mouth opened, then shut again. She nodded, drawing in a deep breath. Her morning cup of coffee — Eddie had made it, insisting it was his turn — was a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. The only effect it seemed to have had was increasing her heart rate and leaving her bereft of the ability to sit still without feeling like she was going to self-destruct.

She followed Jamie into the kitchen, answering Jamie's questions with half-phrases and murmurs, distracted by the glance of light through the windows, by the way it seemed to cast Jamie all in bronze. A statue breathed into with life as though by an artist’s hands. Somewhere along the way, Dani had dropped her purse to the floor and sat at one of the bar stools, resting her cheek heavily in one hand.

Jamie set the kettle on a back coil and frowned over at her. "It's only nine, you know. You sure you don't want to have a quick nap before our usual torture via sci fi?"

Dani tried to imagine sleeping on the couch while Jamie puttered around the kitchen, and knew it would be impossible. She shook her head. "Thanks, but your couch is very sunny."

Indeed, the couch was sun-bathed and bright, just visible in the other room. The idea of sleeping there, waking up sweltering where anyone could walk by the house and see her, made her stomach turn. 

"Doesn't have to be the couch," Jamie said. "I've a perfectly good bed upstairs."

Dani’s head jerked back. She pointed towards the stairs and said, “You mean — yours?” 

"Yeah, unless you want the kid's room," Jamie opened up a cupboard and took out a tin full of tea bags. "Trust me. You don't."

“If - If that’s okay,” Dani said, voice rising in inflection like a question. 

Jamie set down the tin. “Said it was, didn’t I? C’mon. Up you get.” She started towards the stairs and gestured for Dani to follow her. 

For a moment Dani stayed seated at the counter. She could say no, and Jamie would let her. Jamie wouldn’t insist. Jamie would go back to making tea and small talk until Mikey wandered down for breakfast and television. 

Scraping back the stool, Dani stood and trailed after her. Jamie didn’t glance back as they climbed the stairs together. Dani kept a hand on the wood-painted railing all the way up as though the earth might pitch beneath her feet. When they reached the landing, Jamie held up a finger to her lips and pointed at Mikey’s shut door, the two of them slipping past, and then Jamie was pushing open the door to her room.

With a sense of unreality, Dani stepped inside. Her memories of Jamie’s personal space always involved mess, a sort of organized chaos. The years had dampened that only somewhat. A few of Jamie’s clothes were still strewn across the floor and clutter accumulated on the dresser, but the bed was made and the air had that recently vacuumed smell. The curtains were drawn, admitting only a faint sliver of light from the far wall so that the room was pleasantly warm and dark. 

Giving Jamie a furtive and apologetic shrug, Dani stepped towards the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jamie said from the doorway as Dani sat on the edge of the mattress, nearest the window. 

“Don’t,” said Dani, “let me sleep too long.”

Jamie smiled at her. “Go on. Get some kip,” she said, and pulled the door quietly shut behind her. 

Dani listened to Jamie’s footsteps retreating back down the hall. She didn’t realize she was gripping a corner of the sheets in a fist until she felt a dull ache in her hand. Clasping her hands together in her lap, she sat there and stared at the drawn curtains. 

This side of the bed had no side table. Then again, Jamie had always preferred the right side of the bed. Somehow that simple knowledge was like a thrilling secret. Dani glanced over at that side, at the half empty glass of water and the faded novel and the pocket knife. Sitting up slightly, Dani tugged out the sheets and slipped beneath them, not bothering to get undressed. 

Somehow this was worse than the couch. She was a voyeur in her own skin. Every motion seemed performed outside of herself, viewed by a camera lens through a keyhole. Dani sprawling across the mattress. Dani twisting up in the sheets. Dani pressing her face into the pillows and inhaling deeply. Dani pulling the covers up until her head was all but covered, until she was wrapped up in the familiar warmth and smell, until the sleepless nights came rushing over her, dragging her down, down into the vasty deep. 

She awoke to the sounds of voices, distant through the door and down the stairs. Blearily she blinked and squinted around the room. The first thing she registered was that the bed was oriented incorrectly; it should have been up against the other wall. And the voices weren’t quite right either. There was the distinct lack of a Scottish burr. 

Because it wasn’t 1978, and she wasn’t at the railway cottage, and Ruth Heron had been dead for over a decade.

Five more minutes, she thought muzzily to herself. Just five more minutes and she would wake up. 

Five minutes came and went. Head still buried in a pillow, Dani lifted her arm to check her wristwatch. Thirty-five minutes, in fact. She couldn’t remember falling asleep again. Only that she couldn’t think of a time when she wanted to wake up less. Only that Jamie’s bed was far more comfortable than her own, and that even after all these years she could with confidence say she much preferred it. 

Pushing herself upright, Dani fumbled with the skin-warm covers. She was swinging her legs over the side of the bed and running a hand through her sleep-mussed hair when she heard a gentle tap on the door.

“You decent?” Jamie’s voice asked from the other side. 

Dani’s fingers curled at the hem of her skirt. She said, “Come in.”

The doorknob turned slowly and Jamie poked her head in before the rest of her followed. “Feeling better?” she asked, shutting the door behind her.

Dani lifted her head slightly, remaining perched on the edge of the mattress, angled away from the door. “A little.”

Jamie’s footsteps padded closer and behind her Dani could feel the bed sink down slightly beneath a new weight. She stared down at her own bare ankles. A slit of light through the curtains lapped against the carpet, so that it seemed her feet were underwater. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A precarious lock of hair fell into Dani’s eyes, and she raked it back with both hands. Her fingers remained tangled there, slumping down so that her wrists rested against her shoulders and she held onto the back of her neck. 

“It wasn’t half mine,” she said finally after a long pause. “The car, I mean. It wasn’t half my car. It was just - just mine. Nobody had to lend it to me, or share it with me, or withhold it from me, or - It’s silly, I know. I’m being silly.” 

“You’re not.”

Hesitantly, Dani twisted round. Jamie had moved up the bed so that she was leaning easily against the headboard, propped against a pillow. One leg hung over the side of the mattress, and the other was bent at the knee. Ten years ago, Dani would have sank down beside her, would have rested her head in Jamie’s lap or on the perch of Jamie’s shoulder. Now the spread of sheets between them might as well have been the breadth of the Atlantic. 

“It’s not silly,” Jamie continued, “wanting something that’s just yours. Not at all.” 

“I have this.” 

The words spilled out of her before she could properly think over their implications, and Dani rushed to clarify. 

“Sundays,” Dani said. “I have - I have my Sundays back, I guess.”

“Not really just yours though, are they?”

“What do you mean?”

Jamie smiled softly and gestured to herself. “Well, I’m here. Taking up your precious Sunday time.”

Dani’s mouth felt dry. “Yeah,” she murmured. “But that’s -” 

She didn’t say: ‘different.’ She didn’t say: ‘what I want.’ She meant it, though, and the words hung unspoken between them. 

Dangerous, Dani thought. Being here — in Jamie’s bed, still tired, still muddled from sleep, the truth on the tip of her tongue — was dangerous. 

Jamie looked away and Dani found she could breathe properly again. She cleared her throat as Jamie moved to stand up without doing so. Gesturing to the bed, Jamie said, “You can keep sleeping, if you want. I can tell the kid to keep it down and do homework, and you can sleep.”

“No,” said Dani faintly, then with more strength, “No, I want to wake up.”

 --

It was far too early in the morning to be teaching children songs to a nativity play. Dani stood at the front of the otherwise empty auditorium with her class, clutching a cup of coffee that she had smuggled out of the teacher’s lounge. It was ten days until Christmas, and not a single one of these kids was ready to perform at the school play. Bless them.

Dani winced when the tune slid distinctly south of the intended key. With a fortifying sip of coffee on her tongue, she shook her head and raised one hand. “Okay, stop! Please! Let’s start from the top again, all right?”

She shot a plaintive look towards Ms. Reeves, who was by this time an institution in and of herself. Ms. Reeves was also the only competent pianist at the school and could sight-read sheet music. With a nod, Ms. Reeves pushed up her thick tortoise shell glasses and struck a chord to orient the kids back to the beginning of the song.

It did not go any better than last time. Not even with Dani slowing them all down and singing various sections by herself, so they could hear the difference. That didn’t seem to help much. If anything, the kids were adamant that she could keep singing so they could just listen and whittle down the clock until freedom. And she couldn’t blame them. She herself kept checking her wristwatch, wondering how many minutes until she was free from the purgatory of work so close to the holidays. 

“You know,” she told them once they’d finished, “I’m not the one that’s going to be singing in front of all your parents.”

“But you’re much better at singing, Miss Clayton.”

“Yeah, you should just do the performance for us. We’ll be back up dancers.”

Dani gave a snort of laughter and rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s very flattering, but ultimately unhelpful. And it’s definitely not happening. So, we’re going to practise again tomorrow. All right?”

A chorus of whines answered. Dani held up a hand and began shooing them off the stage, “I don’t want to hear it. This is your only homework this week. So, you’re welcome. Go. Go on.”

It did not take much urging. They went with talk amongst themselves, shared excitement and laughter at being let free. One or two of them gave her a wave in passing. 

“Bye, Miss Clayton.”

Dani smiled. “Bye, Mikey. See you later.”

Mikey trotted after a small group of his friends, shouldering his star-splashed backpack. At the piano, Ms. Reeves was shuffling together the sheet music and stashing it in the compartment hidden in the seat before she too shuffled towards the exit, trailing after the children.

Still on stage, Dani called out after her, “Thank you, Ms. Reeves! I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

No sooner had the door shut behind her however, than it opened again. Dani, who had begun cleaning up after the kids — the last thing the janitor needed was to sweep this whole place when it would just take a few minutes of her time to pick up the bits of litter that seemed to accumulate wherever a pack of children roamed — glanced up, expecting to see that perhaps one of her students had left something behind. Instead, Hannah walked into the auditorium, her heels clicking against the polished floors. 

“Oh, hi!” Dani greeted with an absentminded smile, even as she ducked down and tucked a few crumpled wrappers into her pocket for disposal later. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Just doing the rounds,” said Hannah. “Finished some paperwork early.”

“Lucky you,” Dani drawled. She dropped down to one knee and reached under a stand to fish out a piece of paper that had been left behind. Someone’s old homework, no doubt. “I still have to -” she pushed herself upright, careful not to spill what remained of her coffee “- enter last week’s tests into the system. Good grief, how do they always leave so much trash everywhere? They were only here for forty minutes.”

Hannah climbed the stairs to join her on stage, the two of them arrayed like actors before an absent audience. “So, how many ear plugs should I bring this year?” she asked.

“At least two pairs for you and me,” Dani answered, sharing a small smile with her.

“Nothing for your beau? I didn’t think you the type to let him suffer alone.”

Dani laughed. She folded up the page of old homework and slipped it into her pocket. “This isn’t one of the events he’ll want to come to. Trust me.”

Hannah cocked her head to one side. “And what of Miss Taylor?”

Taken aback, Dani blinked and fumbled for a response. “Jamie? Well, she’s not - I mean - We’re just friends.”

Hannah gave her an odd look. “Of course. I was only asking if she would be attending to see her brother.” 

“Right,” said Dani. “Yeah. Yeah, she’ll be here.” 

When Hannah simply watched her curiously, Dani tucked a lock of hair behind one ear and sipped at her near empty cup of coffee. It had gone completely cold and bitter, despite the copious amounts of sugar and creamer she had added earlier. 

“Have you worked out the catering yet?” Dani asked. Anything to fill the dead space, to divert Hannah’s too clever, too perceptive, too gentle gaze. 

The corner of Hannah’s mouth quirked in a knowing smile, but all she said was, “Yes. I thought I’d take your advice, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been in touch with the owner of that cafe in town,” Hannah said. “And Owen has gladly agreed to be the school’s supplier for the after show event.” 

“Owen , huh?” Dani repeated, grinning. “Not Mr. Sharma?” 

“Shall we play that game, Miss Clayton?” Hannah said, and though her tone was light the look she shot Dani was warning. 

Clearing her throat, Dani turned the empty cup between her hands and glanced away. “Point taken,” she said weakly.

For a moment she feared that Hannah would press. A shiver of utter dread wormed its way up Dani’s throat, locking her jaw in place like a coroner’s wire sewn through the gaps in her teeth. Hannah knew. If not the specifics, Hannah knew something. She had seen the flowers. She had seen Dani and Jamie interacting at school events and camping trips. She had seen Dani spiraling at the Halloween fair, had calmed her down in the shadow of the old brick building, and sat with her until Dani could gather the pieces of herself together again. It’s all right , she had said. It’s all right. 

And even though Hannah said nothing now, the words hung between them. They were alone in the school auditorium, on stage before an empty crowd, and Dani could not shake the feeling that if she looked up, there would be a bucket teetering in the rafters over her head. 

“Do you have any plans for the holidays, dear?”

The question was so casual it took Dani a moment to register that Hannah had once again allowed her to slip away, unscathed and unnoticed. 

“Just the usual,” Dani said. “Home with my mother and the future in-laws.”

“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?”

Dani smiled. Something. Yeah. It sure was. Another year at Judy’s house. The last year until she was another Mrs. O’Mara in a family full of Mrs. O’Maras. 

“And you?” Dani asked. 

With a sigh and a one-shouldered shrug, Hannah said, “The holidays are always quiet for me. I left my life back in England, when I came to America.” 

“Why not,” Dani gestured with the cup towards the auditorium at large, “go back? Don’t you ever travel anymore?” 

“Oh,” said Hannah, sounding surprised. “Not really, no. Apart from coming here. But that was a bit of a spur of the moment decision to follow -” she cleared her throat and whatever she had been about to say was replaced instead by, “Well, to follow a job opportunity, I suppose.”

“Do you miss it?” Dani asked. “Home, I mean?”

Hannah smiled gently. “Is it home, I wonder? I cannot say. I miss people. But — well. I have people here now, don’t I?” And she grasped Dani’s arm with a brief warm touch. 

Dani blinked in surprise. “Of course. Yeah. You know, you could - you could come over. If you wanted.”

“That’s very kind of you, but not this year, I think.”

“Hey,” said Dani softly, and she reached out as if to grasp Hannah by the elbow, to return the gesture, only to let her hand fall back to her side instead. “I know I call you ‘Mrs. Grose’ and all that, but that’s not — I think of you as a friend.”

“Does that mean I can expect to receive a wedding invitation?” Hannah asked slyly, avoiding Dani’s well-meaning American earnestness with all the finesse of an Englishwoman incapable of stomaching such bald sincerity. 

Dani laughed. “I’ll make sure to sign the invitation myself.” 

“Very good.”

“So,” Dani nudged Hannah’s foot with her own, “Next year? Christmas? You’ll come over?”

Hannah chuckled warmly. “Next year.”

 --

There was a blanket of snow across the ground and Dani had elected to wear heels. Simple navy dress shoes. Just enough to give her an extra two inches of height and match her outfit. The moment she opened the car door and was met with a bank of snow along the curb side, she scrunched up her nose and weighed up her chances at being able to step over it. Her skirt probably wouldn’t give her the range of movement.

She was still pushing at the quirks of her gloves, when Eddie said from the driver’s seat, “I got it.”

He stepped out of the car, door slamming behind him, and rounded the car so that he could kick a path through the snow for her. Then, holding out his hand, he grinned. “Think Mark will hire me as the new plough driver?”

“You missed your calling,” Dani replied. She took his hand, giving it a grateful squeeze and allowing herself to be pulled up and out of the car.

“Well, if this council role fails, at least I have that.”

He didn’t bother locking the car as they made their way up the street towards his parent’s house. Dani kept her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, shoulders hunched up and huddled beneath her jacket. The pavement had been salted and was bare of snow or ice. Great plumes of white feathered the night air with every breath. Dani shivered.

“God, I can’t wait for spring,” she muttered under her breath.

He chuckled, then took her hand and pressed it into his pocket, wrapped up in his hand for warmth. “You could’ve just worn boots, you know,” Eddie said. “I hear ski jumpsuits are very chic nowadays.”

“I think my mother would kill me.”

“We could write Dior across the back with a bedazzler. That way she couldn’t complain.”

Dani snorted with laughter before she could stop herself, biting back a wide grin. She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “You’re almost as bad as Jamie.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

By some miracle, Dani didn’t slip even once on the short walk to the front door. She ran a quick hand across her hair to ensure it was still coiffed to perfection while Eddie knocked. They didn’t actually wait for anyone to answer. Knocking was more of a courtesy. The moment after Eddie knocked, he turned the handle and pushed the door inwards to admit them, calling out, “We made it!”

“Merry Christmas!” a few voices said in jumbled unison, while Judy called from the kitchen, “Come in! Come in!”

“Shut the door while you’re at it!” Tommy added. “You’re letting out the heat!”  

The two of them shuffled inside, shutting the door and pushing off their coats and gloves. Eddie held out his hand to take hers and she gave them to him with a grateful kiss on the cheek, which he ducked down to receive before striding away to hang up their things in a closet around the corner. The house was pleasantly warm and bright. A fire flickered and popped in the hearth. A few of Tommy and David’s kids were playing cards on the rug in front of it. Tommy and David themselves were seated on the couch, chatting with their dad and nursing beers. Their wives were sipping wine; the two had cordoned themselves off by the chairs near the Christmas tree, which was already piled high with presents for tomorrow. Taking off her heels and setting them by the front door, Dani gave the two other women – both sleek, polished, and brunette – a nervous little wave and a smile. They returned it, looking as plasticky as Dani felt.

Already Dani felt herself tense up with quiet dread at the thought of making small talk all night. The section of hard floor by the front door was slightly wet from the residue of snow left when people first stepped inside, and with a grimace she stepped further into the house and onto warm dry carpet. Before she could go any further however, there was another knock at the front door. And this time, it didn’t immediately open after.

Looking around, nobody else seemed to be moving. So, Dani walked back a few steps and opened the door to find her mother standing on the other side, a bottle of red wine under one arm.

“Oh,” said Dani, smiling weakly. “Hi, mom.”

Karen cast an appraising glance across Dani’s appearance – navy skirt, navy jacket, cream-colored blouse, bare-stockinged feet – and her eyebrow rose.

“What? Did you leave your snow boots at home?” Karen asked, moving inside so that Dani had to step out of the way.

Dani sighed. “Merry Christmas, mother.”

Normally that kind of tone would have earned her a sharp-tongued rebuke, but from the couch Mike said jovially, “Karen! Nice to see you!”

Her mother removed her shoes and strode towards the couch to talk. Tommy and David exchanged their pleasantries. Meanwhile, Dani caught Mike’s eye over her mother’s shoulder. He winked at her, but the action was so fast and subtle she might have imagined it.

Making her way past the living room, carefully not catching the attention of Tommy and David’s wives, Dani slipped into the kitchen. There, Carson and Judy were adding the finishing touches to a feast’s worth of food already spread out across the center island, while Eddie rummaged around in the fridge.

“Oh, honey, don’t you look nice,” Judy greeted her with a smile. She gestured Dani closer with a spatula so she could give her a brief one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek before returning to task.

“Hey,” Carson said, flicking a towel at his brother’s backside. “If you’re not going to help, get lost.”

Eddie straightened with a scowl, clutching a can of beer in one hand. “Knock it off, Carson.”

“Mom, tell him to get out of the kitchen.”

“Get out of the kitchen, Eddie,” said Judy in an absentminded tone, busy carving an enormous glazed ham and plating the slices. 

Eddie shut the fridge door and said, exasperated, “Why do you always side with him?”

“Because she likes me more than she likes you,” Carson whisper shouted, dodging out of the way when Eddie took a swipe at the back of his head. 

Which was, of course, exactly when Judy chose to look up from her carving, her face a fixed scowl of displeasure. “Edmund! On Christmas? Really?”

“Wha -?” Eddie pointed at Carson, but whatever excuse he’d been about to say died on the tip of his tongue as his mother returned to what she’d been doing. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.

Carson flapped the towel towards the exit to shoo his brother away, and Eddie went, sipping sullenly at his beer. “Not going to save me?” he asked Dani as he passed her in the doorway.

Dani shrugged apologetically but she was grinning when she replied. “Your mom’s house. Your mom’s rules.”

“Smart girl,” Judy murmured.

Eddie left, grumbling all the while. Carson waved cheerily after him and only stopped when Dani gave him a look.

“What?” Carson asked. 

“You know what.”

“He was being in the way,” said Carson as though that justified everything. “He’s always being in the way. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Even Judy shot her an amused glance at that. Dani crossed the room and snatched the dish towel from Carson so she could get started on the pile of pots and pans that had already accumulated in the sink before anyone had eaten a single bite. 

Of course she knew that. Better than anyone. Better than any of them could begin to understand. 

Instead, all Dani said was, “And we love him anyway. Because that’s what good siblings do. Especially during the holidays.” 

Carson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Fine.”

Running the tap to fill up the sink, Dani flicked him with water, and he ducked away from the splash with a whine of complaint. 

“Judy!” called out Mike’s voice from the living room. “Can you bring out a towel and some soap! We’ve had a spill!” 

With a sigh, Judy held out her hand for the towel, which Dani was already passing over to her along with a spare bar of soap from the windowsill over the sink. “Thanks, honey. Carson, can you take out the pie for me, please?”

Carson saluted sharply and moved towards the oven. “I’m on it, boss.” 

In a bustle, Judy went out into the living room, leaving Dani and Carson alone in the kitchen. From the open door, Dani could hear her say, “Already, Tommy? I told you to be careful.”

“Sorry, mom. Here. I can do it.”

“It was David’s fault, actually.”

“Hey, Ed? Buddy? You want to test the ‘no fight’ rule of Christmas?”

“Boys, please.” 

Dani hid a grin. She twisted off the tap and scrounged around in the cupboard beneath the sink for a pair of pink gloves to start the washing up. Beside her, Carson grabbed an oven mitt and a spare towel, and pulled out a pie, resting it atop the stove and switching off the remaining dials. 

“Smells great,” Dani said idly as she reached for a scrubbing brush and soap. “You two must’ve been working all afternoon.”

“It was mostly mom, to be honest. Though I was charged with some last minute grocery shopping. The store was a nightmare.”

Dani gave him a sympathetic grimace. With a smile, Carson set down the oven mitt and moved around her so that she could hand off a pan to him for drying. 

“Feel like we should leave this for Eddie and the twins to clean up,” said Carson. “Seems only fair.”

Dani shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re too nice.” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“What? Of being nice? No.”

“No?” 

She pushed another clean saucepan, still dripping with suds, into his hands and repeated, “No.” 

“Your loss,” he sighed dramatically. 

They fell into a companionable silence. From the other room they could still hear the goings on of the rest of the family. Dani listened fondly, while beside her Carson began humming a familiar tune under his breath. They worked in tandem, but as Dani placed the song — one of the many she’d heard at his concert in Des Moines — her movements slowed. His humming was but an echo of that night. Of bright neon lights, and a sweat-crowded underground bar, and thrumming noise vibrating the very floor beneath her feet. 

“You know I -” Dani started to say, then stopped, not knowing exactly how to continue. “I went looking for you that night. After the performance, I mean.” 

“Hmm?” Carson said, idle and wordless, setting aside one pan and reaching for a clean pot that Dani had just finished washing. 

The water was murky and soap-riddled in the sink. A few knives were barely visible at the bottom, and there was still more than one pan handle cresting up through the surface like a sunken bowsprit. Eyes glued to the water, Dani set down the scrubber and steadied herself, hands braced against the edge of the sink.

“I found you. I saw you with your - your friend,” she said softly, slowly, picking up pace when he stiffened at her side, realising the implication of her words. “And I know it’s not my business, but I just - I wanted to tell you -”

She glanced up at him. Carson was frozen and wide-eyed, his hands gripping the damp drying towel as though it were a life line, the only thing keeping him tethered. Dani slipped her hands free of the gloves and reached out to grasp his wrist with fingers that were clammy yet gentle. 

“I think you’re wonderful,” Dani breathed, her voice low and her gaze far more steady than her heart beat. She could feel Carson’s leaping like a skittish animal’s beneath her thumb. “And I wish I were half as brave.” 

He blinked at her, his brow furrowing slightly, and Dani felt her throat close up around her tongue. She could tell him. It could be their little secret. Something they shared, a flame shielded from the wind by two cupped hands, flickering red-hot against their palms. She could tell him that he wasn’t alone, that she understood, that he didn’t need to hide from her. She could tell him, but the words were strangled at the root, piling up against the roof of her mouth. She could tell him, but he would always be Eddie’s brother before he was hers. 

Footsteps behind them. Someone entering the kitchen. Dani snatched her hand away as though scalded, and both she and Carson stepped back from one another. Putting the pink gloves back on to finish the dishes, Dani cast a furtive look over her shoulder.

Karen had paused in the doorway, gripping the neck of the wine bottle in one hand. "I hope I'm not interrupting something," she said with a pointed flicker of her eyes between Dani and Carson. 

The idea was so ridiculous — her and Carson — that Dani couldn't help but laugh. That her mother cared to know her so little she could even think they were anything but friends. It was laughable. And so Dani laughed. Beside her, Carson’s expression was pinched, as though it took everything in his power to not join in. 

"Is something funny?" Karen asked coolly.

Stifling a giggle behind her teeth, Dani shook her head. "No," she managed. Then she cleared her throat and continued more seriously, "No. Nothing at all. What can I get for you, mom?"

“Well, unless the wine glasses and corkscrew have taken up a new residence, I can get what I need myself.”

Dani handed off one of the last knives to Carson for drying and frowned at where her mother had crossed the kitchen to open one of the drawers. "At least wait for dinner," Dani said, and tensed as though for an incoming blow when her mother sent her a warning glare.

"Not tonight, Danielle," Karen said. "You know how hard Christmas is for me."

Except it wasn't just Christmas. And it wasn't just tonight. It was every night and all the nights that had come before.

Mouth pursed, shoulders tense, Dani stripped off the gloves. Carson must have noticed the hard expression on her face, for he said suddenly, “Hey, Dani, can you go tell everyone that dinner’s ready and that they’ll need to come serve themselves? We’re doing it more buffet style this year, since there are so many of us.” 

Exasperated, Dani nodded. Carson nudged her lightly with his elbow and gave her a smile.

“Thanks,” Dani said under her breath. 

“Yeah, you too,” he murmured. Then, straightening, he said, “Mrs. Clayton, do you mind pouring me a glass as well?”

Karen reached for two glasses instead of just one, and Dani was able to slip from the kitchen without further incident. 

The hallway provided a brief reprieve, caught in between the living room where Christmas music played and the family chattered, the tree glowing with lights fading from one color to another and reflecting off hanging tinsel, and the kitchen where she could still feel the presence of her mother, a shadow at her back. Leaning against the wall beside the kitchen entrance, lingering there for a moment, she went stiff when her mother passed her by to retreat back into the living room. Expelling a slow breath, she startled slightly when the doorbell rang, and felt her shoulders slump with relief. 

“I’ll get it,” Dani called out, and made for the door, pulling it open and smiling at the sight of Jamie and Mikey wearing identical grins with curly hair dusted in a cluster of snow. “You’re late.”

“It was Jamie’s fault,” Mikey said, “She forgot to dig out the truck from the snow.”

Jamie rolled her eyes and gently shoved Mikey inside. “You’re one to talk,” she said, shutting the door behind her with her boot, arms laden with presents, “You’re the one who took bloody forever to wrap the rest of those presents.”

“Because you kept complaining it wasn’t neat enough,” Mikey countered with a scowl. 

“Are you two going to bicker all night, or are you going to give me your coats?” Dani asked, biting back a laugh when Mikey gave her a sheepish grin and Jamie snorted, setting aside the presents on a nearby side table. 

Dani waited patiently as they slipped off their boots to rest against the towel already damp from snow, but as they began to pull off their coats, Jamie wacked Mikey on the arm. “Oi, you forgetting something?”

“Oh,” Mikey said sheepishly, handing Dani his coat and scarf with a small grin, “Merry Christmas, Dani.”

“Merry Christmas, Mikey,” Dani said, chuckling, “Don’t worry. You can tell me again tomorrow morning. You two are coming, right?”

Jamie shrugged, handing over her own baggy coat and old scarf. “‘Course. Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, and jerked her chin towards Mikey with a smirk, “Think this one would have my head if we did.”

But Dani wasn’t particularly listening, her eyes flickering across Jamie’s outfit of black slacks, a slim fitting black button up, and brown suspenders. The top button of her shirt was open, exposing an expanse of pale skin and the long silver link chain that disappeared in the collar of her shirt. Dark-haired and gray-eyed, she looked unfairly attractive. 

Swallowing thickly, feeling slightly unmoored, Dani gestured towards the outfit in question. “How very monochromatic of you.”

“Well, I do have a reputation to upkeep,” Jamie said, the corner of her mouth curling into an roguish grin, “The ugly jumpers are for tomorrow, remember?”

“Yeah,” Dani said, chuckling faintly, “I remember.”

Sufficiently breathless over the bright glint in Jamie’s eyes, Dani ducked away around the corner to hang the pair's coats in the closet and settle her heart rate. 

“Is that who I think it is?” Judy’s voice rang through the hallway. “There you two are! Come here! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. O’Mara,” Jamie replied. 

Dani grinned fondly, shoving aside thick winter coats in the closet to make room for Jamie’s and Mikey’s, overhearing the warm welcomes around the corner, easily picturing Judy crushing Jamie and Mikey into affectionate hugs. 

“Oh, finally, ” came Eddie’s voice next in a teasing tone, “Thought I was gonna have to rally the troops to start dinner without you.”

“Would’ve rung your neck if you did,” Jamie grumbled. 

“Now, you two,” Judy admonished, “You remember my house rules, don’t you?”

Dani returned just in time to find Jamie shrugging with an impish grin, hands tucked into her pockets, and Eddie rolling his eyes. Judy in question had her arm wrapped around Mikey’s shoulders, and huffed out a soft laugh. 

“You two haven’t changed a bit,” she said, and lightly jostled Mikey’s shoulders, “Come on, handsome. Let’s leave these silly goons to sort themselves out and go greet the others, huh?”

“Okay,” Mikey said quietly, wearing a shy pleased smile, cheeks dusted pink under the attention, letting himself be guided towards the living room where Dani could hear Tommy and David’s kids exclaim excitedly over Mikey’s appearance. 

“Look at that, Ed. She called him handsome,” Jamie said with a smirk and some measure of pride, “Don’t recall her ever calling you handsome growing up.”

Eddie glowered, but Dani could see it lacked any real heat behind it. “Don’t recall her calling you pretty either.”

”That’s ‘cause I was the one she was calling handsome instead.”

When Eddie’s expression twisted in mild bewilderment, Dani breathed out a soft laugh and approached the pair. At her appearance, they both turned and grinned broadly at her. Dani blinked, feeling her breath catch in her chest lightly under the attention, her eyes darting between them. She quickly smothered the feeling, pulling her mouth into a small smile. 

“You’re just gonna let her talk to me like that?” Eddie said, pointing reproachfully at Jamie.

Dani chuckled and folded her arms. “I refuse to get into the middle of one of these again.”

“Never gonna take a side, huh?” Eddie said, a teasing glint in his eyes, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close, “I see how it is.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m secretly her favorite,” Jamie said, smirking. 

Eddie narrowed his eyes at her. “Okay, I’m going to let that pass once , since you helped us.”

Dani’s brows knitted together. “Helped with what?”

“Jamie helped us get the venue at the gardens,” Eddie said in triumph. “Turns out there was a long waiting list for a fall wedding, but Jamie managed to convince them to get us a slot.”

Dani went still. Feeling her stomach coil uncomfortably and her shoulders going stiff, Dani looked to Jamie and said, “You did?”

“Sure did,” Jamie said, her smirk outright devilish, “Hard to say no to this prat when he came crawling on his hands and knees, begging me to get you lot a spot.”

“That’s - I didn’t do that,” he said to Dani, “I just think she secretly likes me.”

“You and I both know I didn’t do it for you,” Jamie said with a wink in Dani’s direction. 

Not knowing what else to say or do, feeling a swell of unease building between her ribs, Dani chuckled weakly and ducked her head. 

Eddie laughed softly. “That’s fair,” he said, his hand rubbing her shoulder, “Gonna have to get you a gift basket as thanks.”

Snorting derisively, Jamie said, “I’ll settle for an open bar tab at the reception, thank you very much. But for now, you can start with taking those presents under the tree for me.” 

Jamie gestured with an impish grin towards the small stack of presents that still sat on the side table beside them. Rolling his eyes and sighing exasperatedly, Eddie nodded and did as he was told, leaving them in the foyer with one last kiss to Dani’s head and a pointed look towards Jamie. Sending him off with a cheeky salute, Jamie turned back to Dani, her expression softening. 

“All right, Poppins?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Dani said, blinking, “Why?”

Jamie shrugged, sinking her hands back in her pockets. “Had that look about you, I suppose,” she said, watching her carefully, “The gardens are what you wanted, yeah? If it isn’t, I’m perfectly happy and willing to go ring his neck.”

“No - it’s fine. It’s perfect,” Dani said, taking a small step closer, “The gardens are perfect.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jamie slowly said, “But?”

Shaking her head lightly, willing away the tight cincture in her chest, Dani said, “No buts. I couldn’t have pictured a more perfect place, to be honest.”

It wasn’t a lie for the most part. In another life, the botanical gardens blooming under the care of Jamie’s hands would have been more than she could have hoped for. In another universe, she would have been happy, she would have been relieved. Autumnal blooms and golden trees and a hand in her own that was smaller but no less calloused. But this was here and now, and Jamie’s discerning eyes were flickering over her quietly, studying Dani as though she could see right through her, and just as Dani felt her pulse quicken, Jamie’s expression softened. 

“All right then,” Jamie said, “S’long as you're happy.”

Feeling her breath catch in her chest, her hands twitching to wrap around Jamie’s, one of the twins called out, “Danielle! Are you just gonna hog her yourself all night?”

Chuckling lightly, wrapping her arms loosely around her stomach, Dani felt her cheeks warm. Rolling her eyes, the corner of Jamie’s mouth curled into a smile and nudged her towards the living room. “Fair bit of warning, the kid has something for you,” Jamie murmured. 

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. Wants to give it to you tonight instead of tomorrow,” Jamie said, “Been a wee bit shy about it.”

“You two didn’t have to get me anything.”

“He insisted.” Jamie shrugged. “Kid’s a bit mad about the holidays, you saw what he was like on Sunday.”

Dani would be hard pressed to forget. Arriving at the Taylor household that afternoon with hot chocolate and pastries in hand to a house strewn about in wrapping paper and decorations and a bare Christmas tree tucked into the corner waiting to be accessorized. The day had been spent helping the pair decorate the tree and living room with Christmas music to keep them company at Mikey’s insistence. And afterwards they had settled on the couch to watch White Christmas as the blinking tree lights illuminated the room while Dani desperately tried not to drown in the nostalgia with Jamie pressed beside her. By the end, Jamie and Mikey had ended up chasing each other around the house with wrapping paper rolls after a well aimed thwack to Jamie’s head while Dani watched with exasperated fondness while waiting for the tea kettle’s whistle. 

“I saw you, too,” Dani said with a teasing smirk, “I see you still have White Christmas memorized.”

Jamie shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Dunno what you mean.”

“I also happened to see that you and Mikey seem to be matching tonight,” Dani said, taking a peak in the living room where indeed Mikey was also wearing dark slacks, a button up shirt, and suspenders. The only minor difference happened to be that his shirt was dark green and he was wearing a black bow tie that he was currently anxiously pulling at as he sat on the couch between Judy and Mike. Turning back to Jamie, she grinned. “Cute.”

Huffing out a soft laugh, Jamie shook her head. “Wasn’t my idea. He liked my suspenders and wanted one of his own,” she said, “Put my foot down on the bow tie though. Never would’ve heard the end of it.”

Letting her eyes stray briefly to the brown leather strung over Jamie’s shoulders and pressing into her torso, Dani swallowed thickly and said, “It’s sweet that you indulge him like that. With the outfits and just - all of Sunday.”

“Makes him happy," said Jamie simply.

Before Dani could say anything more, faintly aware that she was looking at Jamie with an expression that was too soft, too fond, there was another yell. 

“Hey! Don’t make us come over there!”

Twisting around to frown at the source of the sound, she was greeted with the twins looking at her and holding up their hands in an impatient ‘come on’ gesture. 

“Okay, why are you two baffoons yelling and why has no one come to get food yet?” Carson said, appearing from the kitchen with a towel slung over his shoulder and a look of exasperation that resembled Judy’s so much that Dani snickered.

At the sound, he turned towards the pair still lingering in the foyer and sighed, shaking his head. “I see what happened now.”

Jamie laughed and let Carson engulf her in a hug. “Not my fault I’m so irresistible,” Jamie said, shooting Dani another wink over Carson’s shoulder. Feeling her cheeks warm, Dani chuckled weakly as Jamie reached up to ruin Carson’s styled hair, but he was quick on his feet and batted her hand away. 

“Think your head is getting way too big to pull out your ass,” he grumbled, playfully shoving her away, and then addressed the living room, “Dinner’s ready!”

They were promptly surrounded by O’Mara’s, finally greeting Jamie with hugs and handshakes. Dani watched with a faint smile, her arms still loosely wrapped around her torso, on the cusp of too enamored. Something nudged her arm and she startled slightly, turning to find Carson grinning at her. 

“Some help you were,” he teased. 

Her heart in her throat, she fumbled for a response but Carson was already stepping away, helping Judy herd the family into the kitchen to get food. Dani lingered near the back, waiting until the kitchen cleared enough for her turn, letting Eddie sweep a hand over her back as he slipped by in a bid to beat his brothers on getting the best pieces of turkey and ham, and shared a commiserating smile and eye roll with Jamie at the bickering and laughter within the kitchen. 

At the dining table, by some miraculous chance, Dani managed to find a seat directly across from Jamie and Mikey, sandwiched between Eddie and Carson. With Christmas music still playing from the stereo and everyone digging into their dinner after a short prayer of thanks led by Judy, she fell back into patterns she’d like to think she’d mastered over the past month and a half. To smile at the right time and comment with the appropriate reply whenever addressed. To laugh under her breath at Carson’s murmured commentary and jokes. To drink her wine and eat her dinner, and not let her eyes linger on Jamie across from her. Jamie with strands of unruly dark hair raked across her bright eyes, Jamie with her infectious laugh, Jamie with those suspenders. 

Partway through dinner, Dani came to the realization she was failing miserably when beside her Carson downed a whole glass of wine on one go on a dare by Tommy. 

“Where on earth did you learn to drink like that?” Judy asked, eyes wide, slightly aghast but unable to hide her own amusement. 

“God,” Carson replied with a broad grin when the table laughed.

And like a gravitational pull, Dani’s eyes immediately darted to Jamie’s to find her already looking back. Feeling her stomach twist not unpleasantly at the amused glint in Jamie’s eyes, they shared slow furtive smirks and a fond roll of their eyes. And just like that, Dani had to twist her hands around the napkin in her lap to ground herself. 

In between conversations and bites of food, it was getting harder to not let her eyes stray back, to not linger at Jamie’s comfortable, slouched posture. To not watch Jamie laugh again from some comment by Carson gone unheard by Dani, feeling as though she were underwater, feeling something constrict in her chest. Her teeth clenched, Dani promptly drained the rest of her wine. 

Beside her, Eddie leaned close and said, “Do you want another?” When she blinked up at him in confusion, he pointed and added, “A glass of wine.”

“Oh, yes. Please,” she said. Eddie smiled and stood to retrieve another bottle of wine from the kitchen. 

Across from her, Jamie was pouring more gravy over her plate, and said with a teasing grin, "Looking to let loose tonight for once?”

Dani laughed breathlessly, feeling her cheeks warm. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, “I don’t plan on having a hangover on Christmas morning.”

“Shame,” Jamie said, still grinning at her, and without warning, before Dani could look away, Jamie brought up a finger between her lips to lick at a stray bit of gravy. Sucking in a quiet breath, Dani swallowed thickly and fixed her eyes down to her plate, shoveling in another forkful of food. 

When Eddie returned to the dining room with two new bottles of wine in tow, a few seats down on the other side of the table, her mother perked up and said, “Oh, I’ll have another one of those too, if you don’t mind.”

Dani paused, carefully watching as Eddie smiled weakly and popped open a bottle, filling her mother’s glass until Karen was happy with the amount. When her mother waved him off with a murmured comment Dani couldn’t hear from this distance, Eddie muttered something back with another weak smile as Karen took a long swig from her glass. Knuckles white around her fork, Dani only managed to blink her gaze away from her mother when Eddie returned to her side, filling her glass before setting the bottles on the table and returning to his seat without a word, clearing his throat. 

It took her longer than she hoped, to let her shoulders and the grip on her fork relax, to reach for her glass and take a long sip. It was a dark peppery red that settled heavily on her tongue. The kind her mother favored. She rested her glass back atop the table, all the while feeling a stare piercing straight into her. Her eyes darting up, Jamie was watching her with a carefully neutral expression. Slowly, Jamie’s eyebrow arched with a faint look of concern and quiet question. Feeling something unspool in her chest, Dani gave her a slow reassuring smile. Staring at her for a moment longer, Jamie’s eyes darted across her face as though searching for something, and then finally she shrugged before returning to her food. 

Dinner seemed to pass quicker after that, leading to conversation over empty plates and letting the kids run around the table, dodging teasing hands with bright laughter. Dani’s hands fidgeted under the table, pulling at her fingers and scratching at a hangnail. In an effort to burn off her restless energy and feel useful, she stood and began gathering the nearest plates to take into the kitchen, but as she reached for Carson’s plate, he batted her hands away. He took the plates from her and set them back down on the table. 

“No. Nope. Not happening.” 

“What do you -?” Dani started to say but she didn’t get far.

“Tommy. David. Eddie,” Carson pointed at his brothers in turn as he called their names. “You’re up.”

The three of them blinked at him in bemusement.

“I mean it!” Carson snapped. “You’re really gonna make Dani and mom do dishes? Or Ash and Liz? Come on. Don’t be assholes.”

“Why does he get to swear in the house?” Eddie asked his mom, when there was no rebuke forthcoming for language.

“Because I like his message,” Judy replied dryly. 

With an arm stretched over the back of Mikey’s chair, Jamie snickered and held up her glass of wine. “Cheers,” she said, and took a long swig. 

“Why aren’t you making Jamie help, then?” David grumbled, already standing to gather the dishes. 

“With all those elbows being thrown around?” Jamie said, “I’d rather not have a black eye for Christmas, thanks.”

“Never took you as a coward.”

“You wanna go there, mate?” Jamie said with a sharp grin. “I have plenty of arsenal to make you regret it.”

With his mouth thinned and eyes narrowed, David thwacked Tommy on the arm to get him to stand. The pair of them grumbled under their breath to the sound of the table chuckling. Eddie quickly followed suit with a roll of his eyes when Carson gave him a pointed glare. Dani watched with a fond grin and when her eyes met Jamie’s again, they shared a snort of laughter. 

“Hey, Mikey,” Carson said, “Wanna come help me choose the next tape to play?”

Fiddling anxiously again at his bowtie now that dinner was over, Mikey’s eyes brightened at the offer and he was nodding, already pushing out his seat before Carson could stand. And just like that, the table began to disperse back around the house with happy chatter and glasses of alcohol in hand. 

Dani took the opportunity to dart into the downstairs bathroom and draw in a deep, relieved breath with the door finally shut behind her. Her reflection was waiting for her in the mirror, wan and frazzled. Scowling, Dani reached up to fix her hair, to try and make herself feel more grounded at least superficially. In the time it took her to do her business and return to the chaos, Mike had already brought out his camcorder for the night, and The Beach Boys’ Christmas Album was blaring on the stereo. Casting her eyes around the house, not seeing Mikey or Jamie anywhere, Dani exhaled a slow, fortifying breath, and waded out for small talk. 

She managed for the most part, discussing work with Ash and Liz and trying her best to remember the plot of the last book she read. Smiling shyly with a small wave whenever Mike panned his camcorder in her direction. Letting Eddie wrap an arm around her shoulders when the boys were done cleaning in the kitchen. Sharing furtive eye rolls with Carson across the room where he stood by the stereo when the three eldest O'Mara boys smiled proudly, as though cleaning was their idea in the first place. Letting her eyes snap towards Jamie when she finally entered the room, following her closely as she made a beeline towards Carson with two bottles of beer in hand.

Suddenly, Eddie’s arm around her felt like an anvil, sinking her into the carpet floor. She felt too exposed under Mike’s camera, and her mother lingering nearby on the couch, flushed and glassy-eyed and far too familiar. 

Swallowing thickly, Dani said to Eddie, “I’ll be right back.”

Mid-conversation with Tommy and his wife Liz, Eddie nodded absently and let her slip away quietly. Delving back into the kitchen, she drained her wine and rested the empty glass on the counter. For a long moment, she stared into the glass, seeing her warped reflection, and with a tight jaw, she pulled open the fridge to retrieve a bottle to refill her glass. 

Wandering back out into the hallway, she found herself leaning against the wall once more, mustering up the courage to delve back into the living room. Taking a slow sip of her wine, feeling her cheeks warm from the alcohol, she didn’t notice Mikey wandering up to her from down the hallway until he was leaning beside her, scowling down at his bow tie as he pulled and fiddled with it. 

She tilted her head to the side and asked gently, “Having trouble?”

His eyes briefly met hers and he shrugged, ducking his head again. “It keeps getting worse,” he grumbled.

Dani chuckled and nudged him in the arm. “Maybe because you keep messing with it.”

With a huff he rolled his eyes and tugged at the fabric again. “Mr. O’Mara showed us how to do it, but it’s not working.”

When he tugged on it again roughly and sagged heavily against the wall, Dani bit back a laugh. “Okay, come on,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him back down the hall, “We’re going to fix this.”

His shoulders slumped, Mikey didn’t complain as she led him towards the bathroom, flickering the lights on and grinning fondly at the lines of frustration and disappointment in his face through his reflection, an uncanny mirror image to Jamie. 

“Now, I’m more practised in regular ties and doing it backwards, but we’re gonna give it a shot, okay?”

At his quiet nod, Dani squeezed his shoulders and gestured for him to undo his bow tie as she rested her glass on the counter. With his back to her, she reached over his shoulder to adjust the length of the fabric, and asked, “Is this okay?”

He nodded again. She smiled and began to slowly show him the steps with his back to her. Just as he was in class when challenged beyond his level, Mikey was eager to learn, watching the steps through their reflection. It was a little uneven when she was done, but with some adjusting and pulling, she was pleased with it. Leaning closer to get a better look, Mikey grinned broadly at their reflections. 

“Thanks, Dani,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she said, “Now it’s your turn.”

With a heavy sigh, Mikey acquiesced and undid his bow tie. She took it slow, murmuring encouragements in between her instructions as Mikey’s brow furrowed in concentration while following her directions. Just as they were mid-way through, Dani’s voice faltered when through the mirror, a familiar figure appeared and leaned against the open door frame. 

“Was wondering where you two went,” Jamie said. 

“Mikey was having trouble with his bow tie,” Dani explained. 

“I see that.” Jamie smirked at Mikey. “My services weren’t good enough for you, huh?”

Through his faint blush, Mikey scowled. “Not my fault your memory sucks.”

Jamie snorted. “Yet, you’re the one who thought I was cool enough to want to copy and match.”

If anything, Mikey’s cheeks went redder and he crossed his arms, his shoulders bunching. Dani gave Jamie a reproachful look through the mirror, and in response Jamie rolled her eyes with a good natured grin. 

“All right, all right,” Jamie said, flapping her hand towards them. “Carry on. I’m not even here.”

Shaking her head, Dani coaxed Mikey out from his hunched form to return to his bowtie, and in no time he was tugging it in place, squared up and neat. 

“There you go,” Dani said, patting his shoulder with a proud smile, “Now you look especially handsome.”

Ducking his head, Mikey murmured, “Thanks, Dani.” And then after a long moment, briefly darting his eyes between Dani and Jamie through the mirror, he said, “Can I go now?”

Huffing out a soft breath, Dani nodded. “Yes. Go on, I’m sure Mrs. O’Mara has snacks hidden for you somewhere.”

His eyes brightening, Mikey grinned and made to exit the bathroom, but was pulled to a stop by Jamie slinging an arm around his neck and pulling him close with a smile. “Aw, mate. She called you handsome.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Mikey grumbled, but made no real effort to pull out of her grasp. 

Laughing, Jamie lightly ruffled his hair, and said, “How about we do what we had planned first, and then you can go?”

Mikey’s look was dubious. “Now? Here?”

Jamie shrugged. “Why not? No one’s here to see. That was the point, remember?”

Hesitating briefly, his brow knitting where he remained pressed against Jamie’s side, he finally nodded. Dani watched with a patient, soft smile as Jamie let him go and pulled something unseen out of her pocket, hidden behind Mikey’s thin frame. Covertly passing the object in hand to Mikey, Jamie shot Dani a quick wink over his head with a crooked grin. 

Mikey’s cheeks were pink as he turned and held out a small navy box towards Dani, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. “Merry Christmas, Dani,” he murmured.

“Thank you, honey,” Dani said, charmed, taking the box. When she opened it, she smiled broadly to find that inside, nestled in foam padding was a Star Trek insignia silver pendant attached to a simple chain necklace. “Oh, it’s perfect,” she breathed. 

“I have one too,” Mikey said, visibly pleased over her reaction, “Mine’s a pin, but I left it at home.”

“You should’ve worn it,” Dani said, “Then we’d be matching.”

Mikey’s smile brightened, and he eagerly said, “I’ll wear it tomorrow.” 

“You better,” Dani said, pulling the necklace from it’s box, “We’re going to have to one-up Jamie somehow.”

Laughing, Mikey nodded and turned to Jamie, “Now can I go?”

It took Jamie a moment to answer, leaning against the doorframe with her hands in her pockets, expression soft as she watched them. She grinned and nodded, jerking her head towards the hallway. “Yeah, all right. Out of my sight.”

When Mikey disappeared down the hallway after one last pleased grin, Dani held up the necklace pinched between her fingers and said, “Help me?”

Without a word Jamie pushed herself upright and stepped closer. Heart a sudden claxon in her chest, Dani handed her the necklace and turned on the spot, pulling her hair to the side. Through the mirror, she watched as Jamie reached around and placed the chain around her neck, sucking in a quiet breath at the feeling of Jamie’s warm fingers grazing against her skin as she clasped the lock with an expression that was hard to read. An involuntary shiver traveled down Dani’s spine, her jaw aching from how hard she clenched her teeth. 

“There you are,” Jamie murmured, and stepped away, digging her hands back in her pockets. 

“Thank you,” Dani murmured, adjusting her hair back over her shoulders and setting the pendant straight so that it hung right over the dip of her clavicle. 

“No problem,” Jamie said, nodding towards her with her chin, “Won’t believe how popular their merch is. It’s bloody everywhere. Apparently some Captain Clark bloke is from Iowa.”

“Captain Kirk,” Dani corrected and laughed when Jamie shrugged dismissively. 

Then Jamie grinned and said, “Fancy keeping me company outside for a smoke? Came to find you to ask.”

“Yeah,” Dani said, nodding, “I’d love to.”

It was not until Jamie sneaked over their coats to the backdoor did Dani realize what she had agreed to. Carson was nowhere in sight to accompany them like she had expected, to act as a buffer to the nerves straining beneath Dani’s skin. But his boots were already set on a nearby mat, and Jamie was shoving them over towards her after handing Dani her coat.

“His boots are too big, I can’t - “ 

“Don’t think I didn’t see those heels of yours by the front door,” Jamie said, shrugging into her coat with an exasperated grin, “Honestly. You know how to color match, but you still haven’t learned your lesson on weather appropriate clothing?” A slow grin grew on Dani’s face. Seeing this, Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Raising a preteen really rubbed off on you, huh?”

Jamie stared at her for a moment, and then scowled, her cheeks pink. Dani snickered. “Just put the bloody boots on,” Jamie grumbled, and pulled open the back door, letting in a waft of freezing air.

Huffing at the cold air against her legs, she gave Jamie a mild glare who smirked in response. Without any more preamble, Dani shoved her feet in Carson’s oversized boots and slipped on her jacket and scarf before following Jamie outside on the porch. The temperature seemed to have dropped over the course of the night, the air still but bitingly cold. Dani shivered, wrapping her coat closer around herself as she followed Jamie to the railing, but instead of lingering in the overwashed porch light, Jamie grasped her hand and carefully guided her down the icy porch steps. 

“Where are we going?” Dani asked, the boots clunky and loose on her feet, but blissfully warm against the solid foot of snow as they trudged through the untouched expanse of white.

“Over here,” Jamie said, her breath a white mist, leading her towards the old shed near the back of the yard with furtive glances behind them to the backdoor, “Promised the kid I’d quit smoking for the New Year. He’s been on my ass about it. I’m going to have to milk the next few days for all they're worth.”

Dani snorted. “Quitting cold turkey, are you?”

“Is there any other way?”

“Gradually? Like a normal person?”

Pulling them around the corner of the shed, hidden away from view of the house where they could still hear the stereo blasting Christmas tunes at an unreasonable volume level through a crack of a window, Jamie leaned against the shed and grinned. 

“You know me,” Jamie said, releasing Dani’s hand to pull out a rumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket, “I’m an all or nothing kinda woman.”

Dani snorted, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”

“Good food and free booze, what’s not to love,” Jamie said with a shrug. 

“You mean besides hiding behind a shed in case Mikey sees you smoking?”

Rolling her eyes, Jamie didn’t deign to respond. She plucked out a cigarette and placed it between her lips, flicking a flame to life with a plastic lighter. Dani watched, entranced at the glow of orange illuminating her skin in the dark shadows encompassing them. Jamie’s eyes glinting in the light of flame and embers, cheeks sinking inward until she lifted the cigarette away to blow a thin stream of smoke above them with pursed lips. Dani’s heart was still pounding from the bathroom, crashing steadily against her ribs, the burn of Jamie’s hands lingering against the skin of her neck like an ink blot. She darted her eyes away in an effort to not look at Jamie’s lips when she took another drag. 

“You know,” Dani started slowly, “I still have your old lighter.” At Jamie’s questioning frown, she added, “The Zippo.” 

Jamie blinked at her for a moment, and huffed out a breath of laughter. “Figured you would’ve pawned that.” Jamie said with a shrug, taking another drag, the embers burning bright. 

Dani frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” 

“Because I missed you.”

Jamie stared at her, the air between them abruptly thick. Her stomach whorling uncomfortably, Dani cleared her throat and ducked her head, but then Jamie laughed softly. 

“Missed you too, Poppins,” Jamie murmured. When Dani dared to look up again, Jamie's expression was fond as she smiled at her. “Don’t think I told you that before, when you first said so.”

Easily, Dani could recall that day in the alley beside the pharmacy, when things had still felt so fragile between them like a house of cards stacked in her palms. And then the Sunday after that, and the Sunday after that. Smiling faintly, Dani murmured, “You didn’t have to.”

“Well, now you know at least,” Jamie said, taking another pull at the cigarette, and nodded towards Dani with her chin. “Don’t think I mentioned before either,” she continued through a plume of smoke she directed away from Dani, motioning her hands towards her, “Your outfit. Looks nice tonight.”

Dani’s cheeks warmed and she bit back a broad smile. “Thank you,” she said, and stumbled for a reply. “You - um. You look nice too.”

“Thanks.” Jamie slouched against the shed, her smile veering into a smirk as though she already knew this for a fact. “It’s the suspenders, yeah?”

“Um - “ Dani fumbled. “I suppose.”

“Gonna have to wear it more often, then.”

Dani nodded in lieu of a verbal reply, not trusting whatever she might say, praying that the shed shrouded them in enough darkness from porch light to not display the heat spreading across her cheeks. 

At that moment, the music from the house blared louder than before, Wham!’s Last Christmas booming through the open window. They both listened with amusement as complaints immediately followed.

“Carson, turn it down!” bellowed Eddie just as David complained, “I can’t hear myself think!”

“With what brain?” Carson rebuked. 

“Do you want us to break mom’s rule, because we will!”

“Suck it up!”

Dani met Jamie’s eyes and they both snickered with laughter. The volume in the end did not turn down, forgotten in the midst of continued bickering. Grinning broadly, Jamie lifted the cigarette to her mouth and Dani’s eyes drifted down to watch. When she expelled the smoke to the side, Dani held out her hand. 

Huffing lightly with a small shake of her head, Jamie gamely handed Dani the cigarette. “Y’know,” Jamie said as Dani eyed the red stained filter for a moment and took a slow, careful drag, “Could always just have one of your own.”

Coughing lightly, Dani blew out a plume of smoke. “Then that would make me a smoker.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, but when Dani made to hand it back, she shook her head. “Keep it,” she said, “Might be the last you ever have once I quit.”

“Feeling confident, huh?”

“When there’s a promise on the line, sure.”

Smiling warmly, Dani flicked off the ash into the snow, running a thumb over the filter. A thrill ran through her, a shiver coursing down her spine so that she huddled further into herself, feeling the cold bite at her ears and nose and exposed legs.

Chuckling lightly, Jamie said, “Christ, look at the state of you.” She pushed off the shed and held out a hand. “C’mere.”

Dani froze. “What?”

“Put that out and come here,” Jamie said, “You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

Jamie gave her a long dubious look. Clenching her jaw, Dani shifted her weight anxiously on her feet. “Are you sure?”

“Dani.”

“Okay,” Dani said, taking another long, fortifying pull of the cigarette before flicking it in the snow, expelling the smoke through her nose. 

Her stomach coiling with nerves, Dani took Jamie’s proffered hand and let herself be pulled closer until they were pressed together in a hug. “That’s better,” Jamie murmured, running her hand up and down Dani’s back, “Warm yourself up.”

Slowly wrapping her arms around Jamie’s waist as though any sudden movement might break the spell, Dani nodded, her heart feeling as though it threatened to burst through her sternum. It was no different than any of their hugs, no different than the long lingering embraces at Jamie’s front door. But the wine had her skin straining and her head buzzing, and worse, she was surrounded by the scent of sandalwood and smoke. Her breath a plume of white in a soft sigh, Dani’s eyes slowly slipped shut and she burrowed further in Jamie’s warmth, pressing her nose into her worn scarf and inadvertently grazed the skin of Jamie’s neck. 

Jamie’s arms stilled, her breath catching lightly. “Cold,” she murmured.

A thrill going down her spine at the heat of Jamie’s skin against her nose, Dani said, “Sorry.”

Jamie didn’t reply, unmoving as she held Dani. Frowning lightly, Dani opened her mouth to say something, to say anything, when a familiar jazzy tune drifted from the house. 

Huffing a soft laugh, Jamie murmured, “Figures.”

And before Dani could react, Jamie was rearranging their arms. Dani’s breath caught quietly as Jamie rested one of Dani’s hands on her shoulder and took the other to clasp their palms, and then slowly, as though waiting for Dani to stop her, to push her away, she slipped her hand around Dani’s waist. And with Ella Fitzergerald’s rendition of White Christmas accompanying them, Jamie began to sway with her on the spot. 

“There we go,” Jamie murmured, their temples pressed together, her breath a hot wisp against Dani’s ear and neck. 

Swallowing thickly, her heart threatening to burst through her chest, there was a feeling washing over Dani like a haze, as though the world had narrowed down to just them, in this dark corner in the snow with only the distant porch light and the moon to illuminate them. She pressed her eyes closed and drew in a soft breath, the air bitingly cold as she inhaled, feeling dizzy and enchanted all at once. 

“This is nice,” Dani murmured, broaching the long quiet as they swayed. 

Jamie hummed softly. “Yeah,” she said. “Was thinking. You could come over again before the New Years. Could watch White Christmas again and pretend we’ve never seen it before. Give Mikey a taste of his own medicine.”

Dani chuckled, and bit her lip at the near imperceptible feeling of Jamie pulling her closer by the waist. “I’d love to,” Dani said.

And before she knew what she was doing, Dani was pressing closer. Wrapping her hand further around Jamie’s shoulders, fingers tangling in strands of curly hair, grazing the back of Jamie’s neck. Ducking her head to bury into the crook of Jamie’s shoulder, nose and mouth pressed against the skin of her throat, making a small sound of contentment. 

Jamie sucked in a sharp breath, their swaying faltering for half a heartbeat, and she audibly swallowed hard. Dani’s eyes slowly drifted open, lost in the darkness of the crook of Jamie's neck, straining her ears, feeling Jamie’s hand on her waist dig into the fabric of her coat. They were swaying again, but with Jamie’s pulse a sudden rapid flutter beneath Dani’s nose and lips, she felt as though she was veering over a vast precipice, her stomach dropping at the sensation. Trying to remember how to breathe, Dani slowly lifted her head, smoothing her hand over Jamie’s rigid shoulders and back, gripping Jamie’s hand tight.

Dani opened her mouth to speak, to broach the lingering silence, but the air was still around them, particles of snow drifting so slowly they might as well be fixed motionless where they hovered, and with one word spoken, one wrong movement, the spell between them would be broken. The world moving again, expanding beyond the single point where they clung to each other, pushing them apart. 

Exhaling a soft trembling breath, Dani gradually pulled further back until she could finally see Jamie’s face. Gray eyes dark and stormy, expression carefully blank, Jamie met her gaze and the corner of her mouth lifted into a faint, barely there curve. Dani lingered on it, on the scar there painted red and outlined in faint light. It would be so easy to push back in, and press her lips there. To taste Jamie’s mouth of wine and cigarettes, and feel that scar beneath her own mouth and tongue. Dani bit her own lip and watched Jamie’s jaw go taut, the muscle leaping beneath her skin. 

Her eyes darted up and met Jamie’s, darker than before, unblinking as they were piercing, and then Dani sucked in a quiet breath when gray eyes slowly traced down over Dani to where they were pressed together before traveling back up, lingering on Dani’s mouth for a long moment before catching Dani’s gaze again.

Dani swallowed hard, her breath caught in her throat, not daring to believe, not daring to hope. A flash of something unreadable crossed over Jamie’s expression like a red flare in the dark, the scratch of a matchstick, a flicker in the strained lines of her face. And in a moment it was gone, in its wake something unreachable and blank. 

She couldn’t have been imagining it. The same heat that flared between her ribs and thighs reflected back at her through Jamie’s eyes. The same adoration she’d come to know like the back of her hand since they were children. 

The song was ending, transitioning easily to some other tune Dani couldn’t be bothered to name, when it was abruptly cut off to the immediate sound of muffled complaints and bickering. The silence that followed between them was suddenly and unbearably thick. 

“Jamie - “

“We should head inside,” Jamie murmured, “They’ll be wondering where we are.”

They still stood so close that Dani could see the shadow of her eyelashes and the flecks in her eyes. The music returned to a chorus of cheers, the volume at a more reasonable level. Slowly, Dani braved another smile and eased closer, knocking their foreheads together. “One more song?”

Stiffening for a moment, Jamie huffed and said. “You’ll be the death of yourself. Your hand is freezing.”

“I can handle it,” Dani said, keeping the ‘with you,’ locked away behind her teeth. 

Jamie seemed to have heard it anyway, for she sighed slowly and muttered, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Dance with me?”

Choking out a thin laugh, Jamie pulled away. “Not when you’re bloody shaking like a leaf,” she said, “C’mon. Back inside with you.”

Disappointment gripping at her chest, Dani felt her face fall as Jamie took a full step back that seemed to feel like a vast canyon for how close they were pressed together before. Dani missed the warmth of her arms immediately, but then Jamie was arching an eyebrow at her. 

“Unless you want Judy to come bursting out here wondering what we’re doing,” she said, a teasing curve tucked into the corner of her grin. “Or worse: Ed.”

Stones sunk in the pit of Dani’s stomach, and suddenly reality pressed on her eardrums like a rush of wind. “Right,” Dani choked out, smiling weakly. 

She followed Jamie back inside, breathing in relief in the warmth of the house, shedding her jacket and Carson’s boots. Beside her, Jamie exhaled softly and handed over her jacket when Dani held her hand out, a sharp line to her jaw, not meeting Dani’s eyes. 

“Just gonna head to the loo,” she muttered. She glanced towards Dani, who nodded, mildly bewildered at the sudden change in disposition. Jamie jerked her head in a short nod and spun on her heel out the kitchen.

A furrow to her brow, Dani followed a few paces behind through the hallway, the front door closet in the same direction, but when she turned the corner, she bumped directly into a broad frame. 

“Oh -!” 

She almost teetered off balance, but hands immediately grasped her waist to steady her and she looked up to find Eddie grinning broadly at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Suddenly behind her there was a cacophonous noise of cheering and laughter. Twisting around, her eyes went wide in surprise to find Mike’s camcorder pointed in their direction and half of the family watching them with enthusiasm from the living room.

“I cannot believe that worked,” said Tommy, laughing as he spoke. 

“Huh?” Dani said dumbly.

“Look up, honey,” Judy said, holding up a point-and-shoot camera at the ready, her eyes bright with fond amusement. Beside her, Carson chuckled, but couldn’t hide his wince of sympathy.

Dread pooling in her stomach, Dani slowly looked up as though awaiting some hungry creature to jump out from the shadows and bite her, but instead she found a mistletoe dangling from the light fixture above her. 

“Oh,” Dani said, a small anxious laugh bursting out of her. 

And before she could stop herself, she slowly turned and immediately met Jamie’s eyes, watching her with an eerily neutral expression, frozen as though mid step. Rooted to the floor, her heart crashing against her ribs, Dani watched with bated breath as Jamie blinked, and then without a word, disappeared around the corner. 

Her throat feeling thick, her stomach churning, Dani turned back to meet Eddie’s grin with a weak one of her own. His hands affectionately squeezed her waist lightly, and all it once it felt utterly wrong. But there was goading and teasing coming from the living room, muffled as though Dani’s ears needed to be popped. With another awkward chuckle, feeling something crushing her chest, her throat thick, she stood on her toes and kissed Eddie’s bashful smile. She ignored the good-natured wolf whistles and cheering and the audible click and flash of a camera. 

“I want a copy of that,” Dani heard her mother say in a happy slur when she pulled back, ducking her head away to hide the guilt and indignation gnawing at her, hoping it’d come across as demure. Eddie laughed and hugged her. 

It felt increasingly harder to breathe, afterwards. Clutching at a fresh glass of wine after downing her last in one go after finally escaping the clamor to return hers and Jamie’s jackets in the closet. Struggling to push down the thought of how much she had wanted to bury her nose back into Jamie’s jacket, just to breathe her in one last time. Struggling to not grit her teeth at the Christmas music that was beginning to grate on her ears. Struggling to not let her eyes wander when Jamie finally returned to the festivities, her shirt sleeves folded up neatly, exposing the lean lines of her forearms. 

She had almost expected the world to settle back on its axis, since returning from outside. With the way Jamie didn’t approach her again throughout the rest of the night, with every corner Dani turned, Jamie would be five steps ahead as though she was just as unwilling as Dani to broach whatever had happened outside. Even still, Dani felt eyes on her. And as though sucked in by a gravity well, Dani kept glancing back, meeting gray eyes that seemed warm and dark in equal measure. And every time their eyes would meet, Jamie would hold her stare until Dani felt rooted to the spot, her feet melding to the floor like just another fixture. 

Dani was leaning against the wall, nursing her broad-bowled glass while in the middle of a group conversation with a small cluster of the family when it happened again. The dark form of Jamie slipping by to hover near Carson by the stereo, leaning against a bookcase with a beer in hand and catching her eyes once again. And instead of another faint grin or an arch of an eyebrow, Jamie’s eyes slowly scanned her up and down, lingering on the hem of her skirt before meeting her gaze again and turning away. 

Swallowing hard, Dani brought the lip of her glass to her mouth and drifted her eyes down again to those suspenders, lingering there for a long moment before settling back on Jamie’s forearms. She wondered faintly, what Jamie’s forearm would look like if her hand were to slip beneath Dani’s skirt and between her thighs, how the leather of her suspenders would feel in her hands if Dani were to grip them for leverage. Feeling an ache between her legs in response and her breath catching at just the thought alone, Dani clenched her teeth and stood upright to make her excuses to the bathroom when there was the sound of glass shattering from the kitchen. 

Dani started slightly, blinking in surprise. On the other side of the room, Carson groaned. “All right, which one of you idiots was it,” he said, but when he turned around to find all three of his older brothers in the living room, he paused. “Oh.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, Judy,” came Karen’s voice. 

“It’s all right, honey,” said Judy gently, “Watch your feet, there’s glass everywhere.”

The air in the living room abruptly went thick and quiet and suffocating. Feeling her stomach drop, Dani exhaled quietly and started towards the kitchen. She slowed when she was greeted with a pool of wine on the linoleum floor, red as blood, fresh-spilt, shattered pieces of glass everywhere. Jaw taut, Dani looked up to find her mother hunched over in one of the kitchen table chairs, rubbing at her forehead. Just as Dani felt another presence at her side, Judy looked up from where she was gathering the larger pieces of glass and offered Dani a reassuring grin.

“Just an accident, honey. Not our first spill of the night,” Judy said, and then added, “Boys, could you get the mop and broom, please?”

There was movement behind her, but Dani couldn’t be bothered to check, feeling a strain pressing at her shoulders. She slowly edged her way further into the kitchen, carefully skirting around the mess and Judy’s warnings. 

“Danielle, be careful.”

She nodded faintly, easing closer to her mom, her throat feeling thick. There was movement again behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Mike and Carson helping Judy with cleaning supplies in hand. Lingering by the entranceway, Dani found both Eddie and Jamie. Eddie with his hands tucked inside his pockets, an apprehensive hunch to his shoulders as he took in the scene. And Jamie with a concerned frown. Swallowing down the swell of acidic shame building in her throat, Dani turned away and moved closer to Karen.

Her eyes were closed, hidden beneath her hand, glasses abandoned on the table where she rested heavily on her elbow. “Mom?” Dani murmured, carefully reaching out a hand to rest on her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Karen said sharply, “Just an accident.” She then looked up, her eyes glassy, her jaw clenched. “Judy, it’s fine. Let me help. I can fix it."

She made to stand, but Judy firmly shook her head. “You stay right there,” she said, emptying a dustpan full of glass in the garbage, and gestured where Carson and Mike were near finishing cleaning up, “See? We’re almost done. No harm, no foul.”

Karen exhaled and shook her head with a grimace. “I’m sorry. I - “

“Now, none of that,” Judy said sternly, “It’s Christmas. Accidents happen.”

Her expression darkening into a scowl, Karen shook her head again and mumbled something under her breath. Jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth, Dani gently squeezed her shoulder. “Let me walk you home.”

“I’m fine,” Karen repeated. 

Dani stared at her for a long moment, scanning over the exhausted and weary lines of her mothers face. The phases of her mother’s inebriation were as constant as the moon; Dani knew them all by heart. “You need some sleep,” Dani murmured, “Let me take you home.”

Karen scoffed, and said darkly, “Why? So you can lord it over me?” She shrugged off Dani’s hand. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you, Danielle.”

“Karen,” Judy said behind her.

The Christmas music was a ringing in Dani’s ears, the sound feeling utterly like one big joke as her head swam from her own indulgence of wine. Dani pushed it down — the indignation and resentment — pushed it all away and leaned closer to murmur, “I just want you to feel better. That’s all.” Her mother remained quiet, not meeting her eyes. A thick lump appeared in Dani’s throat. “Please let me take care of you?”

There was a long moment of quiet as her mother rubbed at her forehead, and finally sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Fine,” she breathed, exhausted. 

Dani nodded and made to help her mother stand, grasping her arm. Eddie finally stepped closer, eyes darting between them. “She can have my old room,” he started carefully, almost hesitant, “If she’d like.”

Shaking her head, Dani murmured, “It’s fine.”

“You sure?” Eddie said softly.

“Yes, can you just - “ She stopped short, irritation bleeding in her tone. She drew in a deep breath, and repeated more calmly, “It’s fine. I’ve got her.”

Eddie hesitated, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something more, but to Dani’s relief, he just nodded and stepped aside. 

Her mother clung to her arm in a painful grip as Dani led them towards the foyer. She tried not to wince, tried to ignore the various gazes of the O’Mara clan in the shape of concern and morbid curiosity, tried to duck her head enough to hide the red in her cheeks as her mother staggered beside her. But when she reached the foyer, she looked up and blinked in surprise to find Jamie there in her coat and boots with two jackets slung over her arms, that old scarf wrapped around her neck.

“What are you - ?”

Jamie shrugged. “Figured you’d need the help,” she said simply.

“Are you sure?” Eddie said from beside her. Dani tensed at the sound of his voice. “I’d be happy to come along.”

Quietly, Jamie looked at Dani with a questioning arched eyebrow and patiently waited. Swallowing hard past the thickness in her throat, Dani murmured, “I've got it, Eddie.”

With a thin, conceding smile, Eddie nodded. Though there was a thin veneer of relief in his expression, Eddie still gamely assisted with letting Karen grip his arm for balance while she slipped on her shoes after muttering darkly, “Get up from the floor, Danielle,” when Dani had crouched to assist her.

Head ducked, running a trembling hand through her hair, Dani slipped on her own heels, only vaguely paying attention to Eddie awkwardly holding her mother’s jacket out. “Uh - “ he started “ - is it okay, Mrs. Clayton, if I, uh -?”

Remarkably, Karen breathed out a quiet laugh that grated on Dani’s ears. “Always were a polite boy,” was all she said. 

When Dani looked up again, she found Jamie watching her with a shadow of worry in her expression. Without a word, Jamie held up Dani’s jacket. Forcing out a thin smile, Dani turned and let Jamie help her slip into it, pulling it close around her. 

“All good?” Jamie murmured quietly behind her. 

Dani nodded, exhaling slowly. Just as she was about to turn around, Carson approached them.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “Anything I can do to help?”

Pulling her lips between her teeth in careful consideration, Dani’s eyes darted over his shoulder towards the living room that was still marginally quieter than it had been all night. Following her gaze, Carson glanced in that direction and then gave her an understanding smile. 

“I got it,” he said, pulling her in his arms for a firm hug, “I’ll take care of it.”

Dani nodded, holding him tight and feeling him reciprocate until she could almost feel her bones creak and her throat grow thick. When she slowly pulled away, she felt him give her a warm kiss to her forehead. “Love you,” he murmured. 

“Love you too,” Dani said faintly, unable to meet his eyes. 

Desperate to leave, desperate to feel the cold against her cheeks again to fight off the humiliation and the burn in her eyes, luck was not in her favor, for Judy was the next to approach her with a look of quiet affection Dani wasn’t sure she deserved.

Dani said, “I’m-I’m sorry, Judy, I’m - “

Judy cupped her cheeks and gave her a look that brooked no room for argument. “You head on home, and get the both of you to bed, all right?” she said, “I want you both bright eyed and ready for another day.” At a loss for words, Dani nodded and let Judy pull her into a hug. “Goodnight, sweet heart.”

“Goodnight,” Dani murmured, her shoulders stiff under Judy’s arms. 

Dani was unable to meet her eyes when she was finally let go, turning on the spot where the others were waiting for her. “Let’s go,” Dani mumbled to Jamie, who jerked her head in a single nod, and swung open the door. Offering Eddie a frail smile when he handed her Karen’s glasses, she slipped it in her pocket and let him kiss her head before she wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders to guide her outside. “Come on, mom. Let’s go.”

The cold against Dani’s skin was welcomed, biting at her ears and nose in a distracting way. Jamie was already waiting by the porch steps, a hand held out in case Dani or Karen lost their balance. She remained close by as they carefully stepped down the walkway that was now covered in a thin layer of snow, but when they reached the sidewalk, Jamie trudged ahead, kicking at the snowbank separating them from the street to make a path. 

Her mother shivered and grumbled under her breath as they carefully stepped through. Dani absently rubbed at her mother’s shoulder to ward away the cold, keeping a close grip on her. When they finally made it across the street up the walkway towards her childhood house, Dani dug her free hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

“Get the door?” Dani said to Jamie. 

With a nod, Jamie took the keys but remained close until they reached the porch with a faint furrow to her brow. It was by some miracle that they hadn’t slipped once during the entire journey.  

As Jamie unlocked the front door, keys jingling, the lock clicking open, Karen huffed. “Is she coming inside?”

“Yes,” Dani said firmly, not bothering to check for Jamie’s reaction as she guided her mother through the doorway. 

With the door shut behind them, Dani sighed quietly in the darkness of the house and listened as Jamie shoved her boots off, already stumbling around to flick on the lights. The house was cold and quiet and void of any decorations to speak of. Lying in wait for the return of its ghosts. Not in the least bit surprised, Dani shed her coat and shoes, and kept a close hand on her mother as she did the same, swaying off balance as she did so. 

“Need help with the stairs?” Jamie asked softly, broaching the quiet. 

Karen scoffed wordlessly. Not meeting Jamie’s eyes, Dani shook her head. “No." 

Jamie didn’t reply, and Dani didn’t look to see her expression. Instead she took her mom’s waist and led her towards the stairs. It was tricky, as it always was. But Dani was an old hand by now, climbing the stairs, bearing most of her mother’s weight, her labored breath in Dani’s ears. But for the first time, Jamie was a constant presence at her back, and when they stumbled halfway up, Dani felt the press of a warm hand at her lower back, burning through her blouse and keeping her balanced upright. Just the feeling alone cast another shadow of shame over her, burning her cheeks. 

Her mother’s bedroom, as it always did, smelled of cigarettes and cheap floral perfume as though that would mask the smell. Karen let out a long sigh when they shuffled inside and pushed out of Dani’s grasp as soon as they neared the bed to sit heavily on the edge of it. The light from the bedside lamps, even as warm as they were, cast her mother’s face in an eerie glow. Her head tilted slightly, Dani could almost see wrinkles there that she had never seen before.

Behind her, Jamie softly cleared her throat. Startlingly slightly, Dani turned and blinked at her, finding her standing at the threshold of her mother’s room with her hands in the pockets of her bulky jacket, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“You need anything?” Jamie said with a faint frown towards Karen before meeting Dani’s eyes. 

It took Dani a moment to answer, but she finally cleared her throat and nodded. “Just um - ” she fumbled “ - uh.”

Smiling gently, a reassuring look that briefly unspooled something in Dani’s chest. “Don’t worry,” Jamie murmured, “Be right back.”

Disappearing down the hall, audibly retreating downstairs, Dani was left to the realization that she was now alone with her mother. The stone that had sunk to the pit of her stomach seemed to painfully twist and deform. 

Pushing it down and away, Dani set to work. Retrieving a damp washcloth for her mother to wipe the night’s grime from face. Setting up the bed behind her. Removing jewelry as though on autopilot. Gold rings. A fake pearl necklace. Small stud earrings. 

She was setting them away at her mother’s vanity when at that moment, Dani heard footsteps in the hall. Clearing her throat, she stood upright and started towards the door where Jamie met her, a tall glass of water and a small bottle of painkillers in her hands. Instead of handing it over to Dani, she seemed to freeze on the spot, her eyes darting over Dani’s face with a discerning frown. Desperately, Dani gave her a reassuring smile, feeling her cheeks strain. 

When Jamie merely arched an eyebrow, Dani murmured, “I’ve got it.”

She looked at her for another moment longer, and then finally exhaled, handing over the supplies. “I’ll wait outside,” Jamie said softly, and when Dani nodded, she grasped Dani’s free hand before she could step away.

Jamie’s hand was warm, as they always were. Her eyes were soft and understanding, her mouth curving into a faint smile. Dani slowly exhaled, allowing the comfort for only a moment, before squeezing Jamie’s hand and letting go. Throat bobbing, sending Karen one last cursory glance, Jamie nodded and retreated downstairs. 

“That man of yours,” Karen said behind her, and Dani's spine immediately went taut, “you have a good one, you know?”

A strain was starting to travel up the back of Dani’s neck, a throbbing twinge verging on a headache. She gritted her teeth and turned to attend to her mother who had remained hunched over on the bed. Dani handed her the water in a silent order to drink, setting the painkillers aside to return to work. And all the while, Karen mumbled in between sips.

“You don’t find those very often anymore. Your grandfather wasn’t one,” Karen said, chuckling darkly, a lost look in her eyes, “But your father. He was a good man. Better than I could have ever hoped for. He insisted - he insisted we marry. All because of you. And God I hated him for it.” 

Dani froze, feeling something cold wash over her, but she was quick to continue, biting against the tremble of her chin, the ache in her chest, as she pulled bobby pins from her mother’s hair, smoothing out the blonde waves with trembling fingers. 

Karen laughed again. “If I have one advice to give you, Danielle,” she started as Dani robotically took the empty glass to set aside and coaxed her mother under the covers, “Don’t hate him for loving you. Otherwise you’ll end up like me. Alone and with a daughter who can barely stand to look at you.”

“Okay, mom,” Dani choked out weakly, a crack in her voice, pulling the covers over her mother’s shoulder as she curled on her side with her eyes closed. 

And before she could move away, Karen reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her close to sit beside her. “You’re happy, aren’t you?” Karen asked, looking up at her through heavy-lidded eyes, both exhausted and piercing all at once. “Are you happy?”

Feeling a burning in her eyes, Dani sucked in a trembling breath and nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed, hastily wiping at her cheeks, “Yeah, mom. I’m happy.”

Her mother blinked up at her for another long moment, and then without another word, twisted away. An unbearable ache in her chest, Dani stood on wobbly legs and made a swift exit, her fists clenched at her side. She turned off the lights and shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood to press her hands to her eyes. Rubbing away the burning and the unfallen tears until she could see stars behind her eyelids, until she could breathe properly again. 

It took a long time to feel normal again. Splashing cold water against her cheeks to wash away the sting of her mother’s words. Downing a glass of water of her own in the kitchen, as if she could drown in it. A long time to feel like she could face Jamie again and pretend the last half hour never happened. Tucking it all away until all that was left was this shiny, hollow veneer. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed her feet into a pair of reasonable boots, and pulled open the front door. 

Outside Jamie was fiddling with the keys to her truck. They jangled with a metallic clatter. The scarf was hanging around her neck like a stole nearly down to her knees. Her cheeks were bright and pink with cold, as was the tip of her nose. 

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Dani said, shutting the door behind her so that they stood alone on the illuminated front stoop of her childhood house. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” Jamie shot her a grin, which quickly faded. “Your mum all right?” 

With a sigh, Dani raked her hair away from her face with one hand, the other tucked beneath her opposite arm in an attempt to ward off the chill. “Probably not,” she said. “But there’s nothing I can do about that.” 

“Not your responsibility.”

“Then whose is it?” 

“Don’t care. Fuck her.” 

Dani gave a huff of laughter. Less because it was funny, and more because it was surprising. Jamie’s crass candor never failed to hit its mark. Arms wrapped around herself and shivering slightly, Dani shook her head.

“Don’t shake your head like I’m wrong,” Jamie said. “Because I’m not. Fuck her. You deserve better. Always have.” 

It felt too much like a scene from ten years ago. Jamie, here. Jamie, looking at her like this. Jamie, fiddling with her keys for want of movement. Jamie, all square-jawed and imploring gray eyes. They might as well have been sixteen again.

Dani made an abortive motion, wanting to reach out, to grasp Jamie’s arm, to ground herself in the present, but she stopped before she could get halfway, clenching her fist back to her side and frowning down at their shoes angled in the snow. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head and laughing softly.

Jamie stared at her. “What for?”

“I don’t know. I don’t – Everything. I’m sorry that you had to help me drag her over here on Christmas. You have enough going on. You didn’t need to do this.”

“Well, if it wasn’t me,” said Jamie. “Then it would’ve been Ed.”

Dani did not reply.

“Right?” Jamie asked, incredulous. “Please, tell me he helps you with this shit.”

“He –“ Dani cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder as though afraid the door might have opened, as though afraid her mother had been faking the whole thing and would be standing there, listening. “He does. More often than I’d like, to be honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scuffing her heeled shoe against the snow on the front step, Dani said, “I don’t like letting her ruin everything. I don’t want her making things harder.”

“Harder than what?”

Dani shook her head, her arms tightening around her middle and her eyes squeezing shut. She couldn’t say that being with Eddie was an exercise in precarious balance, in the breathtaking knife’s edge upon which every aspect of her life was hung. She couldn’t say that every day she woke up awash in the fear that today would be the day it all fell apart, one thing too many, one little piece out of place. She couldn’t say that because saying it aloud would make it real, because saying it aloud would mean no going back, because all she had was forward. One step after another. Always forward.

Clink of the keys, and Jamie’s voice was a careful thing. “Way I see it,” she said. “Things can’t be any harder than they are. Only different.”

Dani laughed weakly and looked up. “If only that were true.”

Jamie was watching her with a steady gaze. “You can tell me, you know. Whatever it is. You can tell me. I won’t care.”

Dani’s mouth was dry. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, and she whispered, “You will.”

Jamie’s eyes dropped to Dani’s mouth, following the movement, and Dani felt a warm tug low in her stomach. A thin thread of something unseen and electric tethered them in place, and then the rhythmic twirl of the keys around Jamie’s fingers went off kilter for just a moment, sending them spinning off over the railing and into the snow bank.

“Shit,” Jamie muttered. She turned and descended the few steps to trample around in the snow, calf-deep, looking for her keys.

Blinking away the coil of heat in her gut, Dani shook her head slightly and went to join her. “Did you see where they went?”

“No,” Jamie said, leaning on her knees and sweeping through the snow with her bare hands, half-crouched so that her scarf dangled and dragged across the bank. “Fuck. Do you have that spare set I gave you?”

“You only gave me a spare house key. Not one for your truck.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry. Eddie and I can drive you home, if it comes down to it.”

The snow melted and clung to the skin-toned nylon stockings against Dani’s legs. She scrunched up her nose and shivered, the two of them alternatively sweeping their ankles or wrists through the drift, hoping to hear the tell-tale clink of metal. After a minute or two of them being out of view of the front door, the outdoor light automatically switched off, plunging them into the shadow of the house, which leaned over them like a spectre through the night, blotting out the stars in a jagged silhouette. 

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Jamie muttered. 

She was still crouched over. A length of silvery chain glinted as it slipped free from her shirt and a familiar necklace swung from her neck. Dani went very still, gaze fixed upon it. 

It was a silver half-dollar piece. Dani could remember piercing it in Judy’s garage, Mike guiding her hand around the drill bit. Except the chain was different now. Longer than she remembered, and a more expensive material than whatever she could have afforded at the age of twelve. 

As if watching herself in a dream, Dani reached out. Jamie froze as Dani’s fingers curled around the chain and gently tugged her upright. Jamie followed slowly, eyes unmoving from Dani. Rubbing the coin between thumb and forefinger, Dani traced the effaced imagery, faded as though from years of being worried in just this fashion.

“You kept this?” she asked, her voice sounding too loud in the quiet darkness of this moment, this brief chamber of the world.

Jamie nodded. Her eyes were dark and indistinguishable, her expression veiled, but there was no mistaking the catch of breath in her throat when Dani’s grip made the chain tug softly at the back of Jamie’s neck. Dani stared, afraid to exhale, afraid to blink, afraid to somehow break this scene, as though they were tethered together by a string of brittle moonlit glass caught in her fist. 

There was the gentle drift of snow through the air, grayed flecks falling from the night sky and catching in Jamie’s wild curls like a net of stars. Dani only meant to let the necklace go, but they stood so close together that the furl of her fingers brushed against the corner of Jamie’s collarbone through the unbuttoned gap in her shirt. Jamie’s mouth dropped open to suck in a sharp breath, but she said nothing. Swallowing thickly, Dani dared to let her fingertips trace the hollow of Jamie’s throat, slipping between warm skin and cold chain. The trembling ghost of a touch.

The pulse at Jamie’s throat leapt beneath her thumb. Dani wanted to replace her thumb with her mouth, test Jamie’s heartbeat with her tongue. She wanted to slide her hand to the back of Jamie’s neck and tug her back against the brick cladding, hidden from sight. She wanted — and wanted —

Dani let her hand splay out against Jamie’s sternum. She pushed gently, a steady pressure, maintaining contact, so that she could feel the thud of Jamie’s chest beneath her palm. 

“You should -” Dani rasped, “You should take Mikey home. It’s late.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed. Before Dani could drop her hand however, Jamie covered it with her own, holding it in place. The circle of silver warmed beneath Dani’s hand, and Jamie said, “Wait.”  

“What is it?” Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, and Dani could just make out the curve of Jamie’s smile. 

“I still need to find my keys,” Jamie said. 

Dani blinked and then snorted with sudden laughter. Jamie squeezed her fingers, grinning, still keeping Dani’s hand against her chest in a loose grip. 

“Right,” Dani said. “Right. Yeah. I’ll get the light.”

Jamie hummed in agreement. Then she lifted Dani’s hand and bowed her head. Dani watched in abject fascination, not trusting herself to breathe, as Jamie pressed a warm chaste kiss to the peak of Dani’s knuckles before — finally — letting her go. 

Dani stumbled up the steps and through the front door. She had to pause in the open doorway leading into the ink-darkened house. There were the shadows of furniture throughout, vague shapes like owl-eyed creatures through the treeline. Dani leaned back against the wall just inside, holding the door slightly shut, trying to give herself space to breathe. Her hand was clenched into a fist. She swore she could still feel the press of Jamie’s mouth against her fingers. Or perhaps that was the shiver of the cold night air. 

Flexing her hand, Dani let her head tilt back against the wall. Then, straightening herself with a deep breath, she flicked on the outdoor light and — braced against the chill — stepped out into the cold once more. 

[passivenovember]

Walking Home (v)., the  Tourniquet

For you @thursday-knight. Lysm

They’re going to let Billy out of that horrible, gray padded room on Tuesday, which Steve snorts at over the phone. 

“What, you think that’s fuckin’ funny or something?”

“No, It’s just.” It’s kind of funny. Steve wraps the phone chord around his hand. Nice and tight, like a tourniquet. “Tuesday’s weird.”

“Tuesday’s...weird?”

“Yeah.”

Steve can hear something, like. The clack of a pen. It’s a common nervous tick, a way to cope, but. Steve’s never seen any one hold a bic the way Billy does. 

Barrel in his palm. Clicking the register with his pointer finger, like. He’s pressing Reagan’s Big Red Button. The one to blow up the world.

“What’s so weird about a Tuesday release, man?”

“Ruining the start of a week by spending it in the hospital and then having to use the rest of it adjusting to life outside?”  Steve shrugs, remembering that Billy can’t see him. “They could at least give you a Friday. Then you’d have the weekend, right?”

Billy’s grin is somehow manifested in the honey drip of his voice. “Been locked up for six months, Harrington, what’s two more days?”

And that could be true.

Steve doesn’t feel like so much time has passed. The rise and fall of the moon, the turn of the seasons, the way Billy has to wear fuzzy socks with those little grips on them to stay warm in beige corridors, have been lost on Steve. 

Tainted. Wrapped in paper the exact shade of survival. Surgeries and afternoons carpooling the kids to Hawkins general, paying Barry Mildred to do Billy’s algebra homework for him, and. 

Convincing everyone.

Himself, too.

That Billy would be alright. Steve had to do everything he could to get Billy ready for the world, or.

The world ready for him.

“Has it really been that long?” Steve wonders.

And Billy laughs. “Maybe not for you, King Steve. Some of us had to spend the whole of it in one room.” It doesn’t sound as painful as it usually does.

Steve just nods again. To himself.

He remembers the leaves changing around the time Billy learned to walk again. Halloween. Bringing left-over contraband to spoil Billy’s strict diet of organic bullshit while his body healed itself. Amber leaves complimenting blue eyes as they made unsteady laps around the courtyard together. 

Steve holding his arm out time and time again, and. Billy taking it. 

Christmas. Snowball fights with the kids, crystals on long blonde eyelashes while that stubborn mouth fought to return every smile Max threw his way. Those very same lashes, wet with tears, when Billy opened a vintage copy of Cider House Rules, on Christmas Eve. 

All, you really shouldn’t be spending the holiday in a psych ward, Harrington.

But they held hands for the first time that night. Steve said, where else would I want to be?

And Billy, just. Took what he could get--nothing more.

Steve remembers a lot of things. Happiness. Rocky, at first, unearned, a slide into friendship which turned into peachy cheeks that rivaled the setting sun.

Summer, Fall, Winter, and.

February.

Steve must have missed it. All of it, while he was busy being grateful that Billy was alive. 

He checks the calendar.

“You’ll be out in time for Valentines,” He says. Because that’s important, somehow. “Got any big plans?”

“Oh, for sure.” Billy clicks his pen. One-two-three. “Got a girl waiting for me on the outside, thought we could catch a movie.”

Steve knows. 

He knows it isn’t true, that Billy’s just yanking his ridiculously short chain, but. Steve’s heart beats in time with the click of a pen. Advancing and overtaking the tempo to orchestrate a symphony of worry.

Of fear.

It used to taste like copper. Black slime and dirty snow, but now it tastes like mashed potatoes served on a hospital lunch tray. Contraband sweets. Change and forced endings and--

Steve chokes on something. A laugh that falls wrong halfway through, like a sob colored to fit summer days. “What are you doing after?”

The clacking stops. “Just fucking with you, Harrington.”

“I know.”

“Was a joke, I’m not.” Billy clears his throat. “Everyone who matters came to see me while I was here.” 

Steve just nods. Frantically, because he hears words that aren’t there. Meaning that couldn’t possibly color his life in broad strokes. He thinks about what Billy’s saying, what he really means. 

Everyone who matters.

“Where are you staying? Like, when you get out,.” Steve mutters. The chord is wrapped around his hand again. He leans against the wall, wincing as the pins from his bulletin board pinch his shoulder blades. “You got a place to crash?”

Billy doesn’t say anything. 

Steve clears his throat. “You aren’t going back, right? You’re not going. Home?”

“To Neil’s?” 

And Steve gets the distinction. Feels it settle like an axe between his first three ribs. “Yeah.”

Billy sighs. “No, fuck that. Figured I’d ask around. See if there are any beds open at RCA.” Recovery Centers of America, that’s. 

“That’s in Indianapolis.”

“Yeah,” Billy says flatly. Steve thinks, distantly, that he sounds almost. Annoyed. “Owens says there’s a car. It’ll take me wherever I want, long as I stay in State.”

“You want to go away?”

“Sure,” Billy says bluntly. “Wouldn’t hurt to leave this place behind, you know. Maybe go somewhere new--”

“Stay with me.”

Steve’s heart is beating in his eyeballs.

The world falls silent. Only for a moment, for as long as it takes for Billy to drop something on the ground and then swear under his breath. His voice shakes, like strands in the wind. “What?”

“At my apartment,” Steve clarifies. He untangles the phone chord which has somehow worked its way to his elbow. “It’s small and shitty, and the couch only has three legs, but.”

Steve closes his eyes and hopes against hope, praying to every god who has ever existed since the beginning of time and everyone who will come after, that Billy can hear every meaning, every hidden word.

“You could.” Steve says softly. “If you wanted to.”

The clacking starts up again, slow and measured. Steve can hear Billy’s breath. The ragged intake of air that sounds painful, like a boy clinging to life in smoke filled memories. Holding on to his hand, saying, I don’t want to die, Steve, please.

It plants Steve’s feet in an ambulance. It tips the string of a tourniquet, bloody and wet with slime in his hands. It makes him remember. 

Pull it tighter, kid, come on.

And.

He’s losing a lot of blood.

And.

Steve, we’re losing him. 

And.

Kid, step away from the body.

Billy clears his throat. “You mean it?” He asks, and.

Steve lets go of a breath. “Of course I do.”

“You’ll get tired of me.” Billy’s voice, it sounds like shattering windows. Steve doesn’t say anything. Can’t respond, because. Nothing in life is more impossible. 

The world falls silent.

Only for a moment, as long as it takes for Steve to close his eyes. “I can’t watch you get in that car and walk away, Billy.”

It’s nothing. Only a part of how he feels. Only a drop of what he wants, but. It sets things in motion again. 

Billy clears his throat. “Alright,” He says. “Give me the address.”

--

Steve wants it to be something other than what it is.

He buys new sheets. Fern green satin, five-hundred thread count and worth a third of what he has in savings. 

They aren’t what he’d usually go for, color or texture, but. The lady at the department store says muted colors are good for preventing overstimulation after trauma and satin is gentle on the skin. Warm, too, which is always a good thing.

Billy says it feels like winter, now. All, I’m a goddamn human snow globe.

Buying sheets on Valentines, it.

Makes Steve hope that this is something else. 

That Billy will insist on putting his new sheets on Steve’s bed instead of the couch in the living room. That they’ll sleep together here, just how they always did in Billy’s hospital bed. 

Chest to chest. 

Billy’s head tucked under Steve’s chin, but.

Mostly Steve being eaten alive by the guilt.

For feeling like this is the start of their lives. That everything before now--living with his parents, fighting monsters, feeling useless in every sense of the word...

All of it was a dream. 

Preparation for the day he would open the front door and find Billy there, waiting.

Steve takes the sheets back to his apartment. He makes up the living room, rearranging the furniture so Billy can have his own space. The couch as a bed and the coffee table as a book shelf.

Billy has a lot of books.

More than anyone Steve’s ever met, more than Robin and Nancy Wheeler combined and Steve doesn’t own any books himself, or. A place to put them. His apartment is the size of a shoebox.

He’ll get rid of the stuff he doesn’t use anymore. 

He’ll make room. 

In his apartment, in his miniscule life, so that Billy has something of his own. 

And maybe after they’re settled in and the bills are paid for the month, Steve will pick up extra shifts at the video store until he can afford buy one. 

A nice, big oak bookshelf for Billy to house his favorites. 

--

He locks himself in the bathroom an hour after moving in.

Which, you know. Throws the evening for a loop. 

He seems happy when Steve opens the front door, dropping his box of books by the shoe rack and toeing his boots off with a grin. 

His body is loose, and. Open, Like he’s comfortable. Billy pokes around the apartment, making fun of the weird shit hanging up on the walls while Steve cooks dinner.

“You gotta get some real art in here, man.” Billy says. It sounds like he’s by the record player, digging through the stack of vinyl's Steve keeps in a shoe box by the T.V. “And some real music, holy shit. How have you been living like this?”

“I’ve been living just fine, fuck you very much.” 

“You have three copies of Waterloo,” Billy snorts. As if that proves something.

He’s crouched by the mosaic of finger paintings left by Holly Wheeler, studying a particularly abstract piece when Steve hands him a glass of sparkling cider.

“Everyone’s gotta have their backup copies of Waterloo, you know, extra in case you gotta dole them out to strangers.” Steve clinks their glasses together. “Cheers.”

Billy swishes the drink around with a lift of his eyebrow. “You trying to get in my pants, Harrington?”

“It’s not alcohol.”

“Why is it bubbly?” Billy accuses, lifting the glass to sniff at it suspiciously. His nose wrinkles, like a bunny rabbit. 

Steve laughs. “It’s sparkling cider. Cherry flavored.”

“Cherry?” Billy snorts, his cheeks glowing pink like little love hearts. “That’s definitely a sex flavor.” 

“It’s a celebration flavor, you dick.” Steve chuckles again. He files through the records he does have, selecting one he thinks Billy can tolerate. “What do you think of Rumours?”

Billy’s wandered to the kitchen. “Hate the activity, dig the album.” He calls.

The sound of cabinets opening and slamming shut echo through the space while Steve figures out the settings for this vinyl, fiddling with the tiny knobs until Songbird filters through at a pace that seems right.

“Ice is in the freezer,” Steve announces, and.

Billy rounds the corner with a bag of chips, happy little smirk on his face. Steve frowns.

“I’m fixing dinner--”

“I haven’t had Doritos in almost a year, Harrington.” Billy says roughly. He rips open the bag, collapsing next to Steve on the floor by the music stand. Billy takes one and licks the cheese dust off the chip, holding the bag out, like. “Want one?”

Steve face hurts from smiling so much. “Nah, I’m good.”

Billy leans back against the wall, rolling his eyes. “What, don’t eat carbs after four p.m. or something?”

And Steve filters through a million answers, all of which make it sound like he’s trying to get laid, so. He settles in next to Billy, letting his eyes fall closed with the sway of the music.

“No, just. Don’t wanna ruin my dinner.”

Billy snorts, bag crinkling loudly as he dives in for another handful. “I could eat twelve bags of this shit and still go ape on whatever rich boy thing you whipped up.” Billy asses him, head cocked to the side. “Bet the cheese makes you fart.” He concludes.

Steve blinks at him. “You’re disgusting--”

“Processed cheese makes everyone shit their pants, man, that’s like.” Billy wipes his hands on Steve’s leg. “Common knowledge.”

Steve makes a noise like a runover chicken, wiping frantically at the trousers he bought at the Goodwill, just for tonight. 

He wets his fingers with spit, wincing and scrubbing at the bright line of orange nacho cheese that stains his corduroy flares. 

The shape of Billy’s fingers is unmistakable. “I’m starting to regret asking you to move in.”

“Thought I was just crashing here until--”

“Now that you’re here I’m no letting you leave,” Steve smiles at him, the weight of it softening when Billy’s cheeks glow pink again. He knocks their shoulders together. “You’re stuck with me.”

Billy falls silent after that.

Shoveling in handful after handful of Doritos and crunching so loudly that Steve can’t get wrapped up in the bass line on the Chain. 

“Dude, you gotta chew so loud?” Steve asks, shoving Billy’s hand away when he reaches to smear nacho dust down the length of Steve’s neck. “My god, you’re a menace.”

“You love it,” Billy giggles, and.

They stare at each other for a moment. Sort of watching the brush of eyelashes against cheekbones while the music plays. 

A backdrop to the start of something Steve doesn’t have a name for.

--

Night falls and Billy doesn’t come out of the bathroom.

The food has been stored, the dishes put away, but the light which escapes like neon strips of gold to kiss the mouth of the hall carpet never flicks off. Never giving way to rest.

Steve thinks about waiting for him. 

He thinks about going to bed, jiggling the handle to make sure Billy’s okay, breaking the door down when two hours turns to three but that seems intrusive. 

If Billy wanted company he would ask. And if he wanted to come out he would, right?

Steve feels like an idiot. 

Pacing back and forth between the living room and the hallway, trying not to make it obvious that he’s right in the thick of gut-wrenching worry. Violent, intrusive images of brain splattered tile fill his mind. 

Billy could be hurt, or. Asleep in the bathtub. Maybe he slipped out the bathroom window while Steve was turning down the couch for him, making the space comfortable.

Maybe he was never here to begin with. Maybe Steve dreamt him up.

Steve paces back and forth, back and forth, wrestling with the urge to call Dr. Owens and ask what he should do, until the clock above the stove reads 11:34 pm and he has no choice but to call it a night.

His knuckles sound like a machine gun when he taps on the door. 

From behind the oak barrier, Billy makes a noise like he was startled out of sleep. Steve can hear him moving around, when he asks, “You okay? Been in there for a few hours.”

Billy opens the door.

His eyes are red and puffy, cheeks a little flushed, like.

“Have you been crying?” Steve doesn’t want him to cry. Tears and hallow feelings, they have no place in the stretch of nightfall that Steve has built for them. 

He feels himself reaching for Billy on impulse, trying to pull their bodies together, but Billy steps back. 

Away. 

To make room for Steve in the bathroom or to make a run for it, Steve isn’t sure. He knots his fingers together for safe keeping. 

“Of course not, don’t be fucking.” Billy’s voice cracks right down the middle, like. A loaf of bread that has been in the oven for far too long. His eyes are glassy when he looks up, and.

Distant.

Steve feels like an asshole. He leans against the door jam. “I can call Dr. Owens, if you want.” 

Billy stares at him. “Why would I want that?”

“You just seem--”

“I seem like what, Steve?” Billy spits. “You gonna psychoanalyze me too, huh?”

Steve grits his teeth against the urge to. Fight back. “It’s just when I started getting the couch ready, you seemed.” Steve runs a hand through his hair, choosing his next words carefully. “Nervous? Afraid, maybe, just a little. Which is alright. It can be scary sleeping alone in a new place, and--”

“I’m not five years old, Harrington, I can handle a sleepover at my friends house.” Billy snarls. He pushes against Steve’s chest until there are rivers between them. Mountains and oceans.

It’s the first time since Starcourt that Billy seems.

Like himself.

The old self, the one that used his fists to keep wandering eyes from getting too close. Figuring him out. If Steve were a younger man he’d fall for it, hook and line, but. 

He knows better.

Six months and a lifetime with Billy Hargrove have taught him a thing or two. He nods, stepping back down the hallway. 

Billy’s eyes track him. Wide and nervous and so, so blue. 

“‘M going to sleep, dude.”  Steve waves a thumb over his shoulder, taking a deep, needed breath. He calls over his shoulder to give Billy some space. “Come to bed when you’re ready. I’ll leave the light on.”

Billy’s footsteps don’t pass his bedroom door until Steve is settled under the covers.

--

He’s starting to think Billy won’t show.

The t.v. is on in the living room, tinny sounds of Yogi Bear filtering through the wall and Steve wonders if he made a mistake in assuming, that.

Look.

Just because they slept together, like, actually slept together  while Billy was in the hospital doesn’t mean anything. 

Maybe Billy is just scraping the bottom of his energy reserves. Maybe he’s getting to the end of the rope when it comes to his friendship with Steve, and didn’t want to move in but had to.

For lack of better options, and like. 

Income and shit--

“Scoot over.” Billy says.

Steve jumps, poking his head out from under the covers to glare wildly at him. “When did you--”

“Move over.” Billy insists, eyes burning like flame in the darkness.

Steve does, all, “Jesus Christ, you’re just a little ray of sunshine, aren’t ya?” But there are butterflies in his tummy. Gently flapping wings that turn into stinging wasps when Billy manhandles his way into the bed, yanking one of the extra pillows out from under Steve’s legs to punch into shape on his side of the bed.

Steve squawks. “I was using that.”

“It was under your knee caps, dork.” Billy mutters, bullying his way into Steve’s space like he did so many times on warm summer nights at Hawkins General, stiff as a board on his government issued mattress.

Steve’s bed isn’t anything like that, it’s like. A marshmallow. Swallowing the two of them whole when Billy presses his face into the length of Steve’s neck, legs coming up to pin him in place.

“I got weak ankles.” Steve pouts. 

Billy doesn’t say anything as he goes limp and heavy on top of his human pillow. Steve instantly feels like he’s over heating; the guy’s a fucking furnace, but.

Billy’s eyelashes are tickling his collar bones.

His breath fans out over Steve’s skin, like cool breezes on summer nights, and. When he starts crying Steve is there.

Like always, Steve sings him to sleep.

[harrin-king]

just a lil dialogue idea: “...did you just sniff me?”

good luck with school :-)

“Not to sound, I don’t know, ungrateful for the redemption you’re providing me with here, but do you all have to stick your noses into everything? Because I think your whole little group needs a new hobby.” 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “You think this is redemption? That’s an interesting take. I’d call it charity, maybe,” he says, ignoring the rest of Billy’s comment. 

Billy follows his lead and ignores him too. “Like, you guys could start a knitting circle, I’m sure ol’ Joyce would enjoy that. Oh! A Bridge Club. What do you think, Harrington? Think that would occupy you enough to stop willingly tracking down monsters with nothing but a fucking baseball bat?” 

Billy has been out of the hospital for three months. He’s been adopted by Joyce Byers for two, and has been patrolling the woods for monsters with Harrington for one. 

None of it was really his choice, but neither was the possession back in July, and he finds this to be something much more tolerable to have thrust upon him. 

Steve gives a small smile, taking quick crunching steps through the dark forest. “Aw, don’t hurt my feelings, Hargrove. I might start thinking you don’t want to hang out with me.” 

Billy scowls, but he can feel it lacking its usual venom. Somehow, the events of the summer have made him someone worth saving, worth helping, worth befriending, instead of someone to be feared. 

No, the Mind Flayer taking over his brain and making him commit atrocities only encouraged Harrington and his whole flock of a family to put an axe in his hand and make him help to make sure it never happened again. Go figure. 

“I don’t want to hang out with you,” he grumbles, though it isn’t entirely true. What he doesn’t want is to be going after the very thing that almost killed him. The Harrington aspect is the only part that makes it less terrifying, makes his heart beat too fast for reasons far away from fear. 

“Fine then,” Steve says, but he sounds bemused more than angry. “Stay back next time and hang out with the kids. You can play Dungeons and Dragons with them, I’m sure that’d be fun for you.” A wide grin overtakes his face. “There’s your alternate hobby. Sorry it’s not quite as exciting as- what was it? A knitting circle?” 

Billy fights to keep the frown on his face, but it’s hard not to be intoxicated by Harrington’s humor, his ability to be light and brave, even when doing something as frightening (and fucking stupid) as combing the woods for monsters. “If I did that, I couldn’t hold a real axe, I’d have to have a fucking imaginary one and speaking of which: don’t you think you should stop antagonizing the person with a weapon walking behind you-”

Steve turns his head back towards Billy with his fingers to his lips, makes a Shhh sound. 

“Don’t you shush-”

“Shut up, Billy, Jesus,” Steve says, and all of the humor and goodness from his voice a few moments earlier is gone. 

It’s then that Billy notices the rustling sound, and the low growl emitting from a handful of yards away, its source hidden behind some brush. 

Panic shoots through him. In his mind there’s only him, being dragged down into the basement of that steel mill; him killing Heather, him killing Mrs. Driscol, him killing a third of Hawkins, all because of that thing, that thing that took him and is now only a minute or two away from doing it again. 

A hand clamps around his wrist and he has to keep from screaming. But when he opens his eyes to face death a second time, it’s just Harrington, tugging him away. “Come on, Bill. Just-”

Steve drags him by his arm all the way to a tree to their left. A generous piece of its trunk is hollowed out and Steve stuffs the both of them inside. “Just stay quiet. It’ll come out of the bushes in a second and we’ll see what it is.” 

But Billy doesn’t want to see what it is. He wants to be sitting at the kitchen table with Joyce, drinking tea at two in the morning when neither of them can sleep. He wants to be driving Max home from the arcade and pretending to hate the music she chooses. He wants anything but this. 

The panic is almost blinding. In therapy- another thing he does involuntarily, but can’t deny the benefits of -Dr. Owens is always trying to give him ways to calm down from anxiety attacks, claiming every new skill is a “tool for his recovery toolbox” or something like that. 

And it’s dumb. But Billy hates feeling like this. 

Five things you can see. 

Alright. Stupid hollow tree. Steve. Roots and grass under his shoes. His own hand. Some stars up in the sky. 

Four things you can touch.

Usually he’d reach out and actually touch the things he listed, but most of what is in reaching distance is Steve or on Steve’s person, so he refrains. Still, he finds things that he could touch. 

Tree bark. Steve’s hair. Steve’s shirt. Steve’s jeans. 

Billy’s breathing is still uneven, the world still feels like it’s going to cave in. He keeps trying.

Three things you can hear. 

Steve’s breathing. An owl hooting, distantly. That damn monster still rustling in those bushes, refusing to just reveal itself and put him out of his misery. 

Two things you can smell. 

The sappy, woody scent of the tree. And Steve, but Steve smells like a lot of things. Like hairspray and like cigarettes and like denim and sweat and expensive cologne. 

A bit of calm finally begins to settle on Billy. He takes another deep breath, breathing in Harrington. It’s comforting. 

He takes another. 

“Um.” He hears Harrington clear his throat. “Did you just sniff me?” 

Billy opens his eyes. Unconsciously, his face has moved closer to Steve, his nose a mere inch away from Steve’s shoulder. Billy jerks back. 

“Jesus. Sorry. Just trying to uh. Ground myself.” He pinches his wrist for how fucking stupid that sounds. 

Suddenly the rustling stops, but then it gets louder as, to Billy’s horror, the creature starts making its way out of the brush, the sound of it getting closer. 

Billy tenses, painfully glad that Steve is there with his bat and it won’t be Billy who has to be brave tonight. 

A head pokes out from between the trees and Steve’s body relaxes. Billy squints his eyes to look. 

A mountain lion. 

Steve gives a sharp, involuntarily cackle and then looks directly at Billy.

Billy looks back and then they’re both laughing impossibly hard, all of the coiled up energy in their veins escaping through loud guffaws in the otherwise silent forest. 

Steve’s head lands on Billy’s shoulders as they continue to laugh. As they settle down, Steve seems to remember something. He looks up at Billy. 

“Wait. Did you sniff me earlier?” 

Jesus Christ. “Don’t think so highly of yourself, pretty boy. I was just breathing, I don’t know, deeply to calm down.” 

Steve smiles. “Scared, huh?” 

They’re still in the tree, the small space seeming so much more cramped now that it isn’t fear that keeps them there.

“Oh, shut up. Of course not.” 

When Steve tilts his head up to meet Billy’s eyes, the change in angle makes his lips only a breath away from Billy’s own. “Do I smell good?” 

“Fuck off,” Billy breathes, but when he tries to break Steves gaze, to turn away or get out of this tree that feels so charged and hot, he’s shocked it hasn’t caught fire, Steve’s lips catch his. 

One thing you can taste. 

[marjansmarwani]

I want ours to be an endless song

5.9k || ao3

“You can’t die on Christmas” + hurt for Day 5 of @911christmasweek2020

——

TK figures that working on Christmas Eve will be nice, he’ll get to spend the day with his team and maybe even get to see his boyfriend on a call. It starts out like that too - until an incident in the field forces him to confront one of his biggest fears and threatens to change everything for good. Despite everything: all his training and years of experience, all he can do is wait and hope for a Christmas miracle; for anything that will save him from losing the best thing he has ever had.  

Thanks as always go to @officerrxyes for both creative input (get yourself a friend who will discus the technicalities of a scene at length with you) and editing. There were multiple times during the writing when I said that I shouldn’t be allowed to write Christmas things (it gets pretty sad/angsty) but it has a happy ending, I swear! 

------

TK didn’t mind working on Christmas, really. 

Working the Christmas Eve shift meant that he was guaranteed to spend the holiday with his dad and his team. They were his family and he wouldn’t have liked to spend the holiday any other way. The only one missing was Carlos, but he knew his boyfriend was also working today. Which left him being torn between hoping for a nice, calm shift or for a small non—life threatening emergency just so he could see Carlos. 

It was a dilemma he kept to himself. He loved his team, but there was no way they would let that particular thought pass by without comment. 

The decision was made for him just as they were settling in for the night. The others groaned when the alarms went off but TK couldn’t quite contain his grin at the possibility of seeing Carlos. 

Unfortunately for him, it didn’t go unnoticed. 

“You’re unbearable,” Judd groaned as they piled into the rig.

“What?” 

“You know what. Could we have one call without you two not making heart eyes at each other?” 

“I think it’s cute,” Marjan interjected, but there was an edge of teasing in her tone. 

TK rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I know if he is going to be there. I have no control over which calls the police end up on.” 

As he spoke, the dispatcher’s voice crackled over their radios, “126, be advised that Austin PD has been called in for support.” 

The others gave TK an unimpressed look. He shrugged, “Guess I’m just lucky that way.” 

There was a collective groan and Owen reminded them all to get their heads in the game. They rode in silence until they arrived at the accident scene. It was a single vehicle accident with the driver — a sheepish looking teen — standing awkwardly outside of the car, looking no worse for wear. In fact, the only victim in the accident seemed to be the traffic light which did not take its pole getting hit well. 

The moment they all descended from the truck Owen began to dole out assignments: “Paul, Marjan — let’s get this pole stabilized. TK check on the driver, see if he is really okay. Everyone else, direct traffic.” 

With a chorus of “yes Cap,” they were all off to attend to their assigned task. TK grabbed the first aid kit and headed over to the unfortunate driver, “Hey there, my name’s TK. Do you mind if I give you a quick once over, just to make sure you’re okay?” 

The teen nodded, still stealing glances at the pole as Paul and Marjan worked to brace it to keep it from falling into traffic, “I’m fine, but my parents are going to kill me.” 

“Hey,” TK said reassuringly, “this isn’t ideal but you’re not hurt and neither is anyone else so if I had to guess I’d say they’ll be pretty happy about that.”

The driver took a deep breath and nodded before giving TK a nervous smile, “it’s only my second day with my license.”  

“What better time to learn then?” 

“Do you have a positive spin for everything?” 

“I’m a glass half-full kind of guy.” 

The kid laughed and TK gave him another grin before stepping back with a nod, “it looks like you walked away without even a bruise as far as I can tell — you’re very lucky. You may be a little sore tomorrow from the seatbelt, but all in all it did its job and you’re fine. Your parents will be happy about that, at least. Plus,” he looked over at where the car was stopped haphazardly on the curb, “it doesn’t even look like the car is too damaged. As far as first accidents go, this isn’t a bad one.” 

The smile he got in return was a little more certain this time, “Thanks.” 

TK returned the smile but his attention was quickly diverted by the sound of approaching sirens. He looked over to see the arrival of both the ambulance and a very familiar police cruiser. He would be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat as Carlos climbed out of the passenger side and walked towards them. When he drew even with TK and the teen, he gave TK a warm smile, “Hey, you.” 

“Hey yourself.” 

Their conversation was interrupted by a groan from behind Carlos. TK looked past him to see his partner Mya approaching, eyes rolled. “Could we get through one accident scene without all the flirting? Is that too much to ask?”  

“Hello to you too, Mya.” 

“Hi TK, you two are nauseating.” 

“Rude.” 

“But accurate.” 

The teen was watching their conversation, amusement edging out the panic that had been in his expression before. There was that, at least. 

Carlos, on the other hand, shook his head at the pair of them, “I hate to interrupt, but Officer Esquilin and I need to take this young man’s statement if you are done with him.” 

TK nodded and closed up the first aid kit, “He has a clean bill of health and is all yours. I’ll head over and tell Michelle her services won’t be needed.” He finished gathering his supplies and paused before heading to the ambulance, “I’ll catch up with you before we leave?” 

The smile Carlos gave him this time was warm and sincere, like a promise, “Of course.” 

TK returned the smile and with a wave to Mya headed off to the ambulance, a grin still on his face. 

“You wouldn’t be flirting with your boy on the clock now, would you TK?” Michelle asked as he approached. 

TK didn’t even bother to deny it, “What can I say? It’s a Christmas miracle.” 

He updated Michelle and the rest of the paramedic team on the status of their singular accident victim and was heading back to the engine to replace the first aid kit when the sound of shouting and the horrible sound of metal on metal cut through the calm afternoon. TK was already turning to see what had happened when another sound ripped through the air, freezing him on the spot. 

“Carlos!” 

The fear in Mya’s voice sent a chill down TK’s spine. He turned slowly, dread building with every heartbeat. His eyes scanned the scene desperately until he spotted him, and his heart sank. Carlos was sprawled on the pavement, the pole of the traffic light covering him. He wasn’t moving. 

TK’s heart thudded in his chest for a few frantic seconds, and then he was running before his mind had even processed the movement. He skidded to a stop and after only taking a moment to glance for immediate threats crashed to his knees beside his boyfriend. He reached out a shaking hand to check for a pulse, the sound of his own heartbeat filling his ears. He let out the breath he had been holding when he found it, sagging in relief even as Michelle arrived at Carlos’s other side. 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know,” TK said helplessly, “I just heard Mya yelling and looked over to see him down with the pole on top of him.” 

He glanced around, trying to piece it all together. There was another car now; it had slammed right into the already precarious pole. Marjan and Paul had been working on stabilizing it. He looked for them, praying that they were okay, that they hadn’t been hurt too and was able to breathe a sigh of relief when he spotted them at the edge of the chaos, gathering equipment to help the driver currently trapped in the car that had brought down the pole. 

A pained groan drew his attention back to Carlos. His eyes were open, but they were shrouded in a haze of pain. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” TK said soothingly, running a hand through his hair, “we’re going to get you out of this.” 

“Carlos, can you tell me what hurts?” Michelle asked softly from beside him. 

“What doesn’t hurt would be a shorter list,” Carlos replied, voice strained but still strong. TK took that as a good sign. He was still talking and aware, he would be fine. They just needed to free him. He looked down at the offending pole and felt his stomach twist. He didn’t know the exact dimensions of traffic lights, but he knew that there was likely well over 200 pounds resting on Carlos’s body right now, and unfortunately most of that seemed to be centered on his chest. His mind was racing with all the implications: a blow to the chest of this magnitude could cause ribs to fracture or break, organs to be damaged, internal bleeding...the list went on and on. 

“Hey, stay with me Ty.” 

Carlos’s voice, strained with pain pulled him back to the present. TK swallowed — the last thing Carlos needed now was to be worrying about him, but he wasn’t surprised. It was just like him, really. 

“Isn’t that my line?” he asked instead. 

“Maybe, but I could see you spiraling. Going there won’t help anything.” 

“You’re right,” TK agreed, “but you don’t need to be worried about me. Just focus on breathing, let us handle the rest. We’ve got this.” 

He heard his dad calling for the team and after a quick assurance from Michelle that she wouldn’t leave Carlos, got up to join them. The rest of the team looked grim as he approached and his dad wasted no time getting into it, “How is he?” 

“He’s in pain, but stable as far as I can tell.” 

He wanted to ask what happened, he wanted to know what had happened in those few seconds he had had his back turned but he didn’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary. Every moment he was here was a moment he wasn’t by Carlos’s side and that was the only place he belonged right now. 

His dad, thankfully, seemed to agree. He quickly gave instructions to the rest of the team, directing them to grab the equipment and splitting them into teams to deal with the various tasks that would need to be handled. When he was done he lowered his voice, turning back to TK. 

“TK, stay with him. Keep him calm and still; this is going to be rough enough as it is, the last thing he needs is to accidentally shift and get hurt even more.” 

His worried gaze never left Carlos, who was still looking dazed and trying his best to track the flurry of movement around him. TK followed his dad’s gaze, swallowed, and nodded. Without a word he returned to Carlos’s side, reaching out a gentle hand to turn his face away from where Paul and Judd were getting the equipment set up.  

“Hey, look at me, okay?” he instructed softly, “just stay with me. You’re going to be alright, the team’s got this. We’re going to get you out of here.”

Carlos nodded weakly, eyes glazed over with pain and TK’s heart clenched. He slipped off one of his gloves and ran a gentle hand through Carlos’s hair, “Just stay with me,” he repeated, hoping his voice sounded stronger out loud than it did in his own ears, “it’s going to be okay.” 

Carlos gave him a weak, tired smile and TK returned it. Despite everything—all the pain and fear—Carlos was still smiling at him. He loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

[continue reading on ao3]

[yikesharringrove]

oh god okay feel free to ignore this if you want, idk? but um ive been really struggling with eating lately (like i just kinda panicked about the thought of eating?) and you're really good at writing all this kind of stuff so maybe billy struggling with eating after starcourt (for medical and mental reasons) and steve helping but still bring gentle and encouraging (totally okay if this is a sensitive for you or if you don't want to write it 💕)

This is pretty heavy.

Under the cut for medical stuff, disordered eating, talks of throw up (nothing graphic), me projecting.

The first bit under the cut is my medical story, so skip that if you would like.

Read on Ao3

-

So, oof. A little background. I spent three years misdiagnosed when I was young. I was so sick and in so much pain (one of my organs had literally died) that I couldn’t eat. If I did, I was in such severe pain I would throw up. I was 5 feet tall and weighed 62 pounds. If I had lost 2 pounds, I would’ve had an intestinal feeding tube. The doctors thought I just had an eating disorder from doing ballet. They would look at my chart, see another chronic illness I have, and blame my pain on that. They found what was wrong BY ACCIDENT and fixed it within a few hours in one (1) surgery.

So this is based largely on that.

-

He pushed the mashed potatoes around the plate.

“I thought hospital food was supposed to be like, bad. This is pretty alright.” Steve had wolfed down the plate he had gotten himself, not paying much attention to how the plate he had brought Billy was still full.

“Yeah. It’s okay.” He had taken one bite.

He felt fucking sick.

The thought of food, of something in his sore stomach, made him want to hurl.

“You’re not eating?” Steve’s eyebrows were scrunched up, concerned.

“Don’t feel too good.”

“Would something sound better? I could get you whatever you wanted.”

“Um, just like a ginger ale or something. Then I’ll try eating again.” That was his go-to. Ginger ale or Sprite, the carbonation helped his stomach enough that he could force some food down for a while.

Steve got him a few cans from the vending machine.

He ended up taking three bites of potato.

-

Steve made dinner when he finally got to come home.

They had decided he would move in with Steve, “live” in the bedroom across the hall, but they both knew he would be spending the most time in Steve’s room.

He had just made buttered noddles, nothing that would be hard on Billy’s weak stomach, but he had made the noodles from scratch.

And Billy was just staring at them.

“You feeling okay?”

“Just, uh, you know. Stomach’s kinda off.” Steve got him a can of ginger ale from the fridge, slid it to him with a bright smile.

The gesture was sweet, but Billy just didn’t want to risk it.

Every night he spent heaving into the toilet, it made his muscles seize and hurt. It made his throat burn for hours, made him feel like he was wasting away to nothing.

-

He always used the same hole on his belts.

He knew it was the right one from the way the leather was stretched a bit, the buckle leaving indents on it.

But that was too big now.

Did nothing to hold up his pants.

His pants that used to fit.

He tightened his belt.

Two notches. He was two notches thinner.

-

Billy could hear the blender when he woke up.

He was curious as to what Steve was doing, what the fuck he was blending up.

He came downstairs, found Steve with grocery bags all around the kitchen.

“Hey! I’ve been doing some research.” He poured the thick smoothie into a blender. “I think this might be easier for you to eat and keep down. There’s protein powder and some ginger, that should help keep your stomach calm, and spinach and some fruit and stuff.” Steve was fidgeting with his hands.

“Thank you.” Billy sat down with it.

Steve let him take his time, let him drink it in tiny sips.

He was about halfway through when he threw it all up.

-

Billy hadn’t eaten in two days.

But he also hadn’t thrown up in just as long.

Steve poked a plate of plain toast towards him.

Billy stared at it.

Steve sighed.

“Will you just, take one bite? For me?”

He took the smallest bite he possibly could.

Steve let him wait ten minutes before he pushed the toast back towards him.

They continued that until Billy finished the toast, waiting a while between each bite in order to make sure it wasn’t on it’s way back up.

He kept it down almost the whole night, until the pain in his stomach flared again and he was heaving into the large mixing bowl Steve kept next to the bed.

-

Billy was laying on the bed, curled into himself, clutching his stomach.

Steve had been behind him almost all day, rubbing his back, talking in a low soothing voice.

He left when there was a pounding on the door. He left the door open, Billy could hear Max’s voice.

“Jesus, Max. You’re a mess.”

“It’s, it’s raining. And I fell.”

“Why were you skateboarding in the rain?”

“I um, I remembered, whenever Billy felt sick, he liked eating lime popcicles, and I went to Melvald’s, and I got some.”

She sounded hysterical.

“Alright, thank you, Max. Thank you. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He heard them coming up the stairs, going into the bathroom on the landing he kept the first aid kit in.

They were in there for a while before Steve came in, talking in that soft voice he always uses.

“Billy, Max is here.”

It felt like a feat for him to roll over.

Her knees were bandaged up, and her face was splotchy.

“Hey, Shitbird.”

“You look like shit.” He huffed a laugh.”

“Feel like it, too.” Her lip trembled. He didn’t want that. “Hey, thanks for the popcicles. Can I get one? Lime, right?”

“Yeah. Lime.” Steve helped him sit up, gave him one of the popcicles.

It tasted good, and the cold was nice on his throat.

And he even kept the whole thing down.

-

Steve was standing next to Billy as they waited for the doctor.

He had lost nearly thirty pounds since he’d been home. His muscle was nearly entirely gone.

“Steve, just, play it cool.”

“I will not.” He had his pissed off mom face on, and Billy knew he had no qualms about yelling at a doctor.

“Steve, this is just, my life now.”

“No. I refuse to accept that.”

“You yell at Owens every time we’ve come in for the past four months, Steve.”

“And I’m gonna keep yelling until shit gets fixed.”

There was a rap on the door before Dr. Owens let himself in.

“You need to help him.” Billy huffed as Steve started in immediately.

“Um, good morning to you both.” Dr. Owens looked between the two of them.

“Billy can’t eat without throwing up. Look at him. He’s fucking wasting away.”

“Steve-”

“No. I can’t take it anymore. There is something fucking wrong. It is your job to fix it.”

Owens’ eyes were wide, Steve was on a roll.

“Every day, every day he can’t eat anything. He won’t because he’s in pain, and he’d rather not eat than throw everything up. And you need to help him.”

Owens was quiet.

“Let’s run some tests.”

-

Billy was in imaging within a few minutes. He had an x-ray done of his abdomen, and Owens ordered several blood tests.

They were in another room, Billy was having an ultrasound done of his entire stomach.

The tech was looking at his intestines, finding everything normal.

“Look, you’re already doing all this, can’t you just kinda, poke around?”

“I’m not sure-”

“Just kinda,” Steve made a vague wiggling gesture around Billy’s stomach.

She gave him a look.

But she sighed, moving the wand up his body.

“Huh?”

“Wait, what’s huh?”

“Um, excuse me.” She left in a hurry.

“Wait, you think they found something?” Billy’s eyes were side.

“If they did, and I was right, you’re never gonna hear the end of it.” Billy rolled his eyes.

The tech returned with an older woman, pointing at the screen and discussing in low voices.

And then the doctor was leaving again, and the tech was wiping his stomach.

“So, we’re going to prep an operation room. We’re going to have you in there as soon as we can.”

“Wait, what?”

“His gallbladder is infected.” Steve was fucking grinning when he turned back to Billy.

“So, I was right?”

“Steve, read the room. Surgery.”

“Oh, fuck.”

-

Steve was biting his nails.

The chairs in the waiting room were stiff and uncomfortable.

They were given the run down. Billy’s gallbladder had become infected. Probably due to the traumatic situation of his injuries and the many surgeries it took to put him back together.

It was almost completely dead inside his body, causing severe pain and all the vomiting. The doctor had explained that his rapid weight loss had probably only hurt it more.

They said it would take about two hours to remove.

Steve had been staring at the large clock as the two hours clicked by.

It was creeping up on two and a half, and he was getting fucking antsy.

He scrambled to his feet when a nurse called him back.

“You family?”

“Yeah, I’m his brother.” It was easier to lie. He needed to see him.

“He should be waking up very soon. It’s easier if there’s family. His surgery went well, the surgeons were able to remove his gallbladder with no other complications. He may be in pain and delirious when he wakes up, put that will pass, and we can give him more medicine if he needs.” They had stopped in front of a nondescript door.

Steve let himself in, taking the seat closest to Billy’s bed, taking his hand. His eyes were already blinking slowly. He smiled softly when he saw Steve.

“Pretty,” his voice was soft.

“Hey, Baby. I’m right here for you.”

“Thanks for, thanks for fightin’.” Steve smiled back at him, running a hand through his hair.

“Of course, Bill. I’ll always fight for you.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” Billy smiled again. “You feelin’ okay? Need more meds?”

“Nah. Feelin’ good. Feelin’ high.”

“Yeah, they gave you the good drugs.”

“Good drugs.” He laid back in the pillow, his eyelids looking heavy.

“Go to sleep if you’re tired, Bill.”

“Don’t wanna. Wanna see you.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Steve kissed his hand.

[quaranteehee]

“Monster”- Tsukishima Kei x Fem!Reader ANGST

≋“≋H≋e≋r≋ ≋f≋i≋g≋h≋t≋ ≋a≋n≋d≋ ≋f≋u≋r≋y≋ ≋i≋s≋ ≋f≋i≋e≋r≋y≋,≋ ≋o≋h≋ ≋b≋u≋t≋ ≋s≋h≋e≋ ≋l≋o≋v≋e≋s≋ ≋l≋i≋k≋e≋ ≋s≋l≋e≋e≋p≋ ≋t≋o≋ ≋t≋h≋e≋ ≋f≋r≋e≋e≋z≋i≋n≋g≋.≋ ≋S≋w≋e≋e≋t≋ ≋a≋n≋d≋ ≋r≋i≋g≋h≋t≋ ≋a≋n≋d≋ ≋m≋e≋r≋c≋i≋f≋u≋l≋-≋ ≋I≋’≋m≋ ≋a≋l≋l≋ ≋b≋u≋t≋ ≋w≋a≋s≋h≋e≋d≋ ≋i≋n≋ ≋t≋h≋e≋ ≋t≋i≋d≋e≋ ≋o≋f≋ ≋h≋e≋r≋ ≋b≋r≋e≋a≋t≋h≋i≋n≋g≋.≋”≋ ≋-≋ ≋C≋h≋e≋r≋r≋y≋ ≋W≋i≋n≋e≋ ≋(≋H≋o≋z≋i≋e≋r≋)≋

“Don’t you think I have dreams, too??” You demanded with such force he could feel the reverberations from your voice rocking his very soul. He wouldn’t have expected this behavior from you, never. Never in a million years. 

Tsukishima’s eyes darken, masking the fear washing over his body only to be given away by the tremors caught in his throat as he struggled to articulate his thoughts, “you’re a monster.” 

Look at yourself, he thinks: frazzled hair with strands of your neat bun coming undone; crumpled clothes as you stand in the center of the mess you made; but above all, feral eyes resembling that of a caged beasts’. 

Monster. Tsukishima Kei would know. He has poured over remnants of the ancient beasts, debating with other scholars on whether or not these bones were from genuine havoc-wreckers. As a child he was elated at the prospect of having a real-life encounter with the subject of his life’s studies. A single encounter alone would grant him the opportunity to scrutinize the dinosaurs and beasts. With this chance, he had thought to himself, he would surpass Sir Richard Owen himself! But right now, all he felt was fear- as he always should have felt in the presence of such archaic wonders. In this moment of time, Tsukishima was reminded that before he is a Historian, he is but man.

...

It’s been two weeks since your outburst. In that time span, both you and Tsukishima decide that neither of you will stay at the apartment, so you get into packing. Slowly but surely, cardboard boxes pile up and take the place of the furniture and household items. Every now and then, Tsukishima would stumble upon trinkets with sentimental value- of course there isn’t much use of them now, just like the rows of photographs securely taped on the bedroom wall. He sighs at the amount of work ahead of him. 

“Kei-kun! Kei-kun!” 

He still hears your voice calling out for him from years ago.

He turns his attention to your (h/c) before meeting your (e/c) coloured eyes. You must have been the one calling for him. “What?”

Pointing at the flower growing on the lowest branch, your face contorts to an exasperated expression. “Please get that.”

“How do you even know my name?” he snarls, but finds himself complying with your request. When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not obey. Looking back at it, maybe it was because he hated seeing that downcast look on your face after deciding that your happiness meant the world to him. 

He chuckles at the memory, carefully putting away the photograph of you smiling back to him from the foot of the cherry blossoms. He reaches up to grab another: the one with you clinging happily onto his sweaty figure after a victorious match against Shiratorizawa. He remembered how you treated him to dinner that night, listening intently as Kei verbally recounts the game. 

“So.. how does it feel like to block one of Japan’s top 3 aces?” you ask him smugly, kicking at his feet from under the table. 

Tsukishima didn’t even bother hiding his smile. He takes your hands in his as you gently rub circles soothingly at his injured pinky. “It was alright.”

...

“Who is she.” Coming from your mouth, it wasn’t a question, but a demand.

“A co worker.” 

“Does her contract include sexual intercourses beginning at 2pm every Tuesday?” you inquire cooly, barely looking up from your documents.

Tsukishima freezes, knowing that there was no possible way to cover up his tracks this time. “Don’t be hysterical.”

Finally turning towards him, you look him dead in the eye, “Why did you do it?”

“Why I did it?” he laughs humorlessly after echoing your question back at you. “(y/n), for someone who’s barely around these days, you sure do have the audacity to fire back at me like that.” His voice is flat as he watches your mouth part in a small “o,” immediately regretting what he had said. Despite this, he continues, “where have you been?” stop it “WHERE in the goddamn world have you been when I needed you most?? When I got promoted in my job, and you barely even cared,” Kei, stop it, you’ll only make it worse “when I got injured during practice and you didn’t even come to check if I was doing okay. WHERE WERE YOU WHEN I NEEDED YOU THE MOST?!” 

Without warning, you flip over your table from the corner of the living room converted into a shared workspace between you and your boyfriend. “How DARE you tell me I DON’T care.” Tears brim your eyes threatening to escape. It takes all your willpower not to raise your voice to match his volume. “Maybe if YOU paused for a second, you would realise how I slaved over at the cafe to pay our bills, and to support your passion. I saw how passionate you were about Volleyball, so I knew it would add up extra costs. But I NEVER once made you worry about whether or not we could afford it, did I?” 

“(Y/n)-”

“But you were happy, weren’t you? I still need to graduate. I still need to pass my classes. I still need to write my essays and get some sleep,” you cried, “don’t you think I have dreams too??” 

Monsters, well, they know nothing but destruction, do they?

You. But you, oh god, you did nothing but love and love and love... didn’t you? You did not burn cities, nor did you lust for blood. Instead you held his hand and provided warmth and comfort, whether it be like milk to a newborn or sleep to the freezing. 

When you leave, he realizes: you are no monster. You’ve just had enough.

[dontlikedarkness]

Happier by Ed Sheeran prompt. Duncan sees Courtney with another man a 2 years after their breakup.

There had been a time, once, where Duncan had been Courtney’s everything. She was still his - there was no mistaking that - but that time where they only had eyes for each other, where they spent every waking moment together and relished each other’s touch, was long since gone. Two years was a long time to be apart. He had loved her all the while.

A lot of wallowing occurred before Geoff could convince him to go out again. It was made worse by the lack of closure; they had been at different places in their lives, according to Courtney, but he would’ve gone to the ends of the earth for her. He had begged her to stay, had said everything right, and still she’d left him. Without a big fight or a definitive end to things, his feelings had lingered. Days turned into weeks turned into months, and he loved her still. Everyone said he would move on, but how could he?

Leaving the house again was a gradual process. Going to work was a given as he still had bills and rent to pay, but beyond that, he could hardly leave his bed. DJ would force his way into the apartment to cook for him, and Geoff made a point of visiting twice a week, but it took a month and a half for him to get up and to say more than a few words to them at a time. He’d folded in on himself after she left - like his entire identity revolved around her. It did, in a sense.

It was nothing short of a miracle when they finally got him to go somewhere. It had been a long six months of chasing him around his apartment - eventually they’d gotten him to visit their own places, and even to let them invite Bridgette and a few other close friends, but still he’d refused to go any further. When he agreed to visit the animal shelter with DJ, Geoff had half a mind to ambush him with a surprise party. DJ spent a solid week talking him down, and even then, Geoff made a show of tagging along and inviting them for drinks at his place afterwards. It wasn’t much, but the pair of them were secretly relieved to see Duncan leaving his hovel, as they’d so lovingly dubbed his tiny studio apartment. It helped to see him genuinely happy, for the first time in months.

Eventually, their outings became routine, and Duncan found that he was content. He was laughing again, and being social - he went longer and longer spaces of time without thinking about Courtney. That ache was still there, but he was no longer quite so conscious of it.

Two years had come and gone in a heartbeat. Everything was repetitive, and his days blurred together, but he was still content. He no longer scanned every crowd for her face; his hand didn’t feel as empty, and he wasn’t so cold at night, without the warmth of her body draped over his. He dreamt of her still, but they were quiet, peaceful dreams, of picnics at sunset and rides on his bike instead of the dreams where she left again, where he could hear the echo of the door slamming behind her every time he shook awake.

Going to the bar was no longer so strange an idea. He’d go every so often, accompanied by Geoff and by Gwen, a pretty tattoo artist he’d struck up a friendship with a few months ago. Soon her girlfriend, Zoey, started to tag along, and then came her friends, Mike and Cameron and a few others he’d never bothered to learn the names of, and then DJ started to bring his boyfriend, and then Noah and Owen joined the group, and suddenly they were having massive outings and as overwhelming as it was to have that many people around, it provided an easy distraction. He had been caught on multiple occasions trying to send a drunk-text to Courtney, glancing around guiltily while he tapped away at his phone. Someone had always noticed, and stopped him before it was too late. With so many people around, often there was too much going on for him to have the space to think - and he liked it that way. Watching Gwen slam down whiskey sours like it was nothing and having to coax Owen down from tables meant he didn’t have the time to get emotional and make bad decisions.

There had always been an unspoken agreement that Bridgette was not to be invited to these things, no matter how much Geoff moaned and griped about missing her. Duncan didn’t have a problem with the girl, and they got along well whenever he crashed at their place, but she was Courtney’s best friend above all else, and she could be rather ditsy at times. The chance of her forgetting that Duncan was going and inviting her was too high.

“Dude, c’mon, it’s been two years,” Geoff whined, sidling up to Duncan with the saddest, dopiest look on his face that he could possibly manage. DJ noted Duncan’s answering scowl and shook his head, leaning back against the counter as best he could, given that it was short even by normal standards and that his stature was far above normal, hitting the 7 foot mark. “Geoff’s right, man. He promised that Bridge won’t invite her, anyways. Wouldn’t it be nice to have her around?”

Duncan threw up his arms in defeat. “Fine, fine, Bridge can come. But don’t think I’m happy about it.” Geoff made a noise not entirely unlike that of an air horn, pumping his fist in the air with all the excitement of someone who had just won the lottery. “Thank you, dude. You won’t regret it,” he promised. Something told Duncan he would.

***

His motorcycle had given him a great deal of trouble when starting it up, so he arrived at the bar nearly an hour late, already more than a little pissed off. He had several missed calls from DJ and absolutely none from Geoff, which wasn’t much of a surprise, given he now had his girlfriend there to keep him distracted. He fired off a few placating texts before setting his phone to silent and getting in line. Had he left his phone on, he might’ve been spared. Luck was not on his side that night, it seemed.

It wasn’t difficult to pick out DJ from the crowd, given how much he towered over everybody there. He wasted no time in joining his friend at the bar and ordering a couple shots of tequila. One look at the big man had him sliding a shot his way - he seemed visibly distressed, opening and closing his mouth as though there was something he wanted to say. 

“No boyfriend tonight?” He asked, hoping to set DJ a little more at ease. “Not tonight, no,” he responded, his words clipped, eyes fixed on a point past his head. Duncan turned with a frown, curious as to what was taking up his attention.

He wished he hadn’t looked. Maybe he could have remained oblivious, if a little concerned about his friend, and saved himself the heartache.

Because there she was, looking just as gorgeous as she had on the day she’d left, if not more so. She was all legs and curves, and her dress did little to hide it. Her hair was longer, now, and her freckles a little darker, as though she was spending more time in the sun. DJ’s hand on his arm startled him back to reality, and he blanched, having stepped towards her without meaning to. “Courtney,” he breathed, wrenching free of his friend’s grasp. He needed to see her, needed to tell her how much he missed her, how much he loved her, and-

He froze. His veins turned to ice, and he thought he might shatter, right then and there. An arm was wrapped around her waist, large and muscled and possessive, and the way she leaned into the unfamiliar man’s shoulder implied they were a lot more than friends. The man said something, and she laughed, a loud, pretty laugh. Fuck, how he’d missed her laugh.

What hurt the most wasn’t the man there with her. It wasn’t the way she laughed, or how much he missed her, or the fact that he was seeing her at all. No, what hurt the most was her smile, because in all their years together she’d never looked that happy. She was positively radiant now, glowing from the inside out, and it was the most heartbreakingly beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He clenched his hands into fists until his nails dug little crescents into his palms. And then he turned around, wallet out, and slammed a hundred dollar bill onto the counter. “Whatever bottle of liquor that’ll buy me is fine,” he ground out, ignoring DJ’s worried glances.

He found some secluded corner and planted himself there, taking long swigs from his drink. Eventually he lost count of how many friends had approached him to check up on him. He didn’t care. As the bottle emptied, so did the dance floor, and still he didn’t budge.

Nobody hurt her the way I did, he told himself, in an attempt to dissuade any thoughts of marching up to her and spilling his guts. But nobody loved her the way I did - the way I do - and nobody needs her as much, a second voice piped up, and he scowled, pushing the thought down. I was happier with her. So, so much happier.

But it was too late. She’d slipped through his fingers, and here she was. Happy. With somebody else.

As the night drew to a close, and almost everyone filed out of the bar, he was surprised to see her linger. They locked eyes, just once, right as he pulled the now-empty bottle away from his lips. I’ll be here, waiting, his eyes seemed to say, if he ever breaks your heart. Her answering gaze was so sad and so gentle that it took everything in him not to cry out in anguish. I know.

[nevergiveupneverrun]

Chapter Nineteen “Take care of her...” Part One

Hello, I hope you’re all doing great. Here is chapter nineteen of my story Bodyguard. I’m sorry by advance for the mistakes… English isn’t my first language and I do my best. Here is the link of the previous chapter: Click Here.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter :) 💛

Three and a half hours had passed since Amelia had gone back to bed. Times that allowed me to have clearer ideas, to think and to come out of my closet instruments that I did not think to use: my holster and my guns. So I took care to recharge one of my guns conscientiously, because from now on every trip that we would do, I will equip myself… if this crazy tried something I will stop him by any means…

I was now at my fourth coffee of the day, sitting in the kitchen bar when the doorbell rang. I join the door as soon as possible to prevent the sound from sounding too long and wake up Amelia. I open the door and discover a courier behind. - Good morning, Mr. Hunt? - Yes, it’s me… - Your errand Sir… He hands me a bad and small cardboard bag on which I recognize two well-known logos. - Thank you… I pay him with a bill and seized the two elements oh his hands. I close behind me and go back to the kitchen with the two packages that I put on the bar: I quickly look inside but specifically distinguish what I ordered by phone a few minutes earlier. I soon hear footsteps carefully down the stairs then a silhouette emerges and enters the kitchen. Amelia appears to me for the second time of the day but it’s not the same woman at the first light of the day: she left her pajamas for jeans and a light white sweater with lace patterns. Her hair is raised in a bun and her face has found a certain glow. An appearance that reassures me. Only the bandage on her wrist reminds me of the drama of the day before. - Slept well? She walks towards me and I notice that she often has bare feet. - Yes, three hours is better than nothing! She answers with a slight smile.

She looks down at my mug and then looks at me again. - You would really need it by the way, right? - I’m fine… I will survive… I made coffee… and I hope you are hungry! I point to her the two packages on the bar. Her eyes open a little more and her features radiate suddenly, at the sigh of two words: The Cheesecake Factory and Top Pot Doughnut. She advances with a smile and leans her head to discover the inside of the two packages. - Cheesecakes! Donuts from Top Pot Doughnut… these are the best in Seattle… - It seems so… then you are hungry? - I… you… yes, I’m very hungry! I leave my stool to get a mug and two plates that I put in the center of the bar, between us two. She looks at me silently, but her smile has not left her. I retrieve the coffee make behind me and fill her mug before slipping a sugar… as usual. - Thank you… - You’re welcome, after you! I announced, waving my hand at the two packets of food. - You have not eaten yet? - No, I was waiting for you… Her smile grows a little more and I stare at her a few seconds: I followed Nathan’s advice and was delighted to have done so, seeing Amelia’s reaction and this joie de vivre which was already expressed and which replaced the anxiety and melancholy previously displayed. The shock of her mug against the bar gets me out of my thoughts and I discover the generous plate that Miss was constituted: two portions of cheesecake and four donuts… I can not help laughing at this mound of food that faces her. - Are you sure you have enough? Her laughing eyes find mine. - I don’t know, I will maybe serve me again… I’m laughing before leaning in turn on the two bags. - I left you chocolate ones… - Sorry? - Chocolate donuts… there are two, I left them for you… I thought it was probably your favorite. I smile nodding and I actually choose the two donuts in question from those who remained in the package. I hasten to take a bite after another sip of coffee. - Thank you for this breakfast, it is really good… it touches me deeply… you didn’t have to think about that… to think of me… I feel Amelia’s glance on me, but she quickly drops her eyes to enjoy her breakfast. A few minutes go by in silence that strangely doesn’t seem embarrassing to me… but almost soothing, comforting… Amelia ends up breaking it after finishing with her donuts, grabbing a piece of vanilla cheesecake. - Richard did not come while I slept? - No… other than the courier who delivered this to me, no one has gone… - He must drop me my guitars. He should pass in the day… I perceive a slight tension on her face as she finishes her sentence. - You’re okay? Your wrist hurts? - Yes, it seems to wake up… - You’d better take an anti-inflammatory for today that might make you suffer. I get up, ready to leave in search of a pill when the doorbell rings again. I exchange a quick glance with Amelia then head to the videophone: I recognize Andrew, eyes down. - It’s Andrew. I turn to Amelia but she doesn’t answer, just finishing the cheesecake. I open the door and Andrew immediately sneaks inside the house…  with a package from The Cheesecake Factory in his hand. - Where is Amelia? He shifts me to the side of a hand resting on my chest while looking upstairs. - Hello to you too… He doesn’t look right through me and advances confidently to the kitchen, after seeing Amelia. He puts the package on a corner of the bar and then hastens to join and embrace her. - Amelia… you’re okay? I saw what happened yesterday… I tried to call you but you didn’t answer… everything is okay, you have pain somewhere? He stands out slightly and notices the bandage on Amelia’s right wrist. - Are you hurt? What do you have? Amelia pushes Andrew with his left hand and replaces herself in front of her plate while smiling shyly at him. - Everything is fine Andrew… I just have a little sprain… - Did you go to the hospital? - No, Owen took care of everything… - Because he’s a doctor too, he says while turning to me. - I am not a doctor, but I know the basics of first aid. - The basics of first aid? But are you unconscious or what? You had to take her to the hospital… maybe it’s something other than a sprain… or worse she may have a wound somewhere else… His voice rises gradually over his words, with a tone barely disguised as reproach towards me. - Andrew, stop! Owen wanted to take me to the hospital, I didn’t want to… and for the second time, I’m fine! Andrew redirects his attention to Amelia, surprised by her response and the sharp tone she used. He looks down and retrieves his package from the bar. He places it close to mine and I perceive in his eyes the surprise of finding one already sporting the same logo, next to Amelia’s plate. - I brought you a box of cheesecake, but I see that I’m not the first to have had the idea, he whispers while fixing the two boxes of The Cheesecake Factory. - Thank you, Andrew, it’s nice to come… murmurs Amelia in a softer, more relaxed voice. - I can stay with you today… keep you company… or accompany you if you want to go out? He looks at Amelia with hopeful eyes.

I feel uncomfortable watching the scene and I slip away from the room to the living room. I sit on the couch while sighing. I hear weak flanges of conversations escaping from the kitchen and a sound that surprises me, a door that closes after a few minutes. I get up immediately to join the kitchen. Amelia is back facing the sink, a light trickle of water escapes from the tap. - Everything is okay? - Yes, everything is okay… She closes the tap with her left hand. She opens a cupboard above her and retrieves a tub of pills and tries to open it with one hand… without success.   I approach and take the tub from her hands: I take a glass in which I leave a pill fall then pour a little water and finally giver her the glass. She grabs it while smiling shyly. - Andrew went home? Her eyes are lowered on the glass with the only sound around us, the melody of bubbles that are activated under the dissolution of the pill. Once the mechanism is finished she gulps the glass in a sip and sits it in the sink. - I didn’t want him to stay. She steps back a few steps and leaves the room without a word more. Intrigued by her attitude I follow her and found her in the living room… sitting on the sofa. - He is worried about you, it’s normal… - Yes, I know. - He really likes you. I pause, hesitating to reveal to her what I suppose. - He looks in love with you… She runs a hand in her bun and then finds my eyes directly. - You were faster than me to see it… it took me several months to realize it… - It’s always easier when you’re not in the center of attention… and he’s pretty transparent as a boy… - I thought it was clear between us… but apparently, he has trouble accepting it… and it always makes me feel uncomfortable because there is this innuendo that now hangs over us… I don’t want to make him suffer, that’s why I don’t encourage him, that I don’t want him to make false ideas… but I think I’ll end up having to take more radical measures… - Like what? - Change of guitarist… but finding a good guitarist is not easy… but enough about that… I don’t want to get worked up unnecessarily today! She gets up suddenly and goes to her TV. - If we watch a movie? I am surprised that she speaks to me and I remain frozen a few seconds. - Do you have preferences? I watch her lean towards the furniture under her TV that includes an impressive collection of DVDs. I don’t know how to react to her question but quickly a clear feeling settles in me. I didn’t dare to refuse her proposition and leave her alone again… even if it was not my place, not my role. I finally go to the sofa to sit there. - What you want… She looks for a moment then gets up, a big smile on the lips. - I know, we’re going to watch Moana, I know you have not seen it… it’s the Disney that I dubbed… I’m sure you’ll like it… I smiled slightly back. She hastens to turn on the television and the slide the Blu-Ray into her drive before joining me sitting on my right. The movie starts and I notice that Amelia’s face shines instantly. - What could I have fun playing this princess… I see her comment on the side, but I’m quickly captivated by the animated movie. I had not seen dozens of Disney in my life but I found the tone very modern: funny, impertinent at times with the little more to recognize the voice of Amelia behind the features of the princess. I catch myself laughing several times and hear Amelia spontaneously accompany me.

An hour of the film goes by like this until I feel my eyelids become heavier: fixing the screen required a certain concentration… a concentration that was difficult after a sleepless night. A weight is suddenly felt on my shoulder. I lower my eyes and the image that greets me take me by surprise: Amelia’s head is resting on my shoulder, her eyes are closed, her breathing is slow and steady. One word to describe her: gorgeous. I study her a few moments, a song of the film in the background, with words that come back as light, believe… a melody that rocks me despite me. My eyelids blink a few times. My head sits against the back of the sofa, then falls slightly to the side, stopping when my head comes into contact with a warm, soft, coconut-smelling surface. My eyes close, despite the effort, I was trying to maintain to keep them open. The fatigue is the strongest while I hear in the distance Amelia’s voice rise and climb into the treble…

The consciousness abandons me little by little but the last sensation resonates before I completely fall into sleep: as a hand that lays against me, near my heart…

Thank you for reading 💛

[cinema-tv-etc]

“Just the facts, ma’am” — “Dragnet” (1951 - 1959) (1967 - 1970)

“Ladies and gentlemen: the story you are about to hear is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent.” Such a cool opening for one of the most memorable “cop” TV shows of all time. Sgt. Joe  — My name’s Friday. I’m a cop — Friday (Jack Web) and his detective sidekicks (played by Ben Alexander and Harry Morgan) managed to keep us glued to the television with their subtle tactics in apprehending criminals because all they really needed in their quest was... just the facts. So cool. Dum, de, dum, dum! Check out this very cool short video.

“Stifle it, Edith!” — “All In The Family” (1971 - 1979) Archie Bunker (Carroll O’Connor) had a way with words. He called his liberal son-in-law,  “Meathead”and his faithful wife, “Dingbat “ (and he insulted about every stereotype you can name) without getting his hand slapped from the politically correct community. He was so lovable, though, right? Whenever his wife Edith (Jean Stapleton) had an opinion, he managed to stifle her — most of the time. Check out the time she stifled him here.

“Who Loves Ya Baby?” — “Kojak” (1973 - 1978)

Kojak (Telly Savalas) was probably the only New York City detective on TV who made the Tootsie Roll Pop sexy. And, didn’t he start the bald head craze? (OK, Yul Brenner in the “King And I” helped get this trend started).  Who loves Ya, Baby? We do, we do!  (Look here for clip.)

“Good Evening” — Alfred Hitchcock Presents (1955 - 1962)

Maybe you had to be there, but no one could grab an audience with an introduction quite like Alfred Hitchcock. His “series of unrelated short stories covering elements of crime, horror, drama and comedy about people of different species committing murders, suicides, thefts and other sorts of crime caused by certain motivations” kept us coming back for more each week. It seems like seven years just wasn’t enough for this film director and his spell-bounding stories.  Take a look at his one-of-a-kind introductions here.  

“Would you believe... “ — “Get Smart”  (1965 - 1970)

“Get Smart” (battling the forces of KAOS) had an embarrassment of riches in the catchphrase department. Maxwell Smart, Agent 86 (Don Adams) kept his co-hort, Agent 99 (Barbara Feldon) and the Chief (Edward Platt) on the tips of their toes every time he opened his mouth. “Would you believe” these words of wisdom: “Missed it by that much!,” “Sorry about that, Chief,” and “I asked you not to tell me that.” Yes, we would believe anything you say, Agent 86. Take a peek at these “Get Smart” funniest moments here.

“To the moon, Alice!” — “The Honeymooners/The Jackie Gleason Show” (1951 - 1959) Who could forget the wild and crazy antics of New York City bus driver Ralph Kramden (Jackie Gleason), sarcastic wife Alice Kramden (Audrey Meadows), NYC sewer worker, Ed Norton (Art Carney) and his wife Trixie (Joyce Randolph)? These four feisty Brooklyn residents tested each others patience on a daily basis which was the reason millions of viewers tuned in once a week. Needless to say, Alice Kramden knew how to draw blood which is why Ralph gave her the what for... “One of these days, Alice, you’re going to the moon!”   “Just One more thing...” — “Colombo”  (1971 - 2003)

Peter Falk made “Colombo” a household name with his unique way of solving the “whodunit” mystery in this clever television detective show. The Fashion Police would have a field day with this disheveled, cigar-smoking detective. (Oh, that rumpled, beige raincoat... how we loved it.) The criminal always thinks he/she has the upper hand in the investigation only to be caught up in the web of Colombo’s increasingly intrusive presence. Just when the suspect thinks all is well,  the polite detective (who always gets his man/woman), has “just one more thing“ to ask.

“Goodnight, John Boy” — “The Waltons”  (1971 - 1981)

This Great Depression Virginia mountain family sure knew how to grab our hearts. Each episode focuses on the “family of John Walton Jr. (known as John-Boy), his parents, John and Olivia Walton, their seven children, and John’s parents Zebulon “Zeb” and Esther Walton. John-Boy (Richard Thomas) is the eldest of the children (17 years old in the beginning), who becomes a journalist and novelist. In the signature scene that closes almost every episode, the family house is enveloped in darkness, save for one, two or three lights in the upstairs bedroom windows. Through voice-overs, two or more characters make some brief comments related to that episode’s events, and then bid each other goodnight, after which the lights go out.”

“Let’s be careful out there.” — “Hill Street Blues” (1981 - 1987)

“Hill Street Blues“is an American serial police drama that chronicled the lives of the staff of a single police station located on the fictional Hill Street, in an unnamed large city, with ‘blues’ being a slang term for police officers for their blue uniforms.”  In the opening, Sgt. Phil Esterhaus  (Michael Conrad) does the police roll call, concluding with his signature line: “Let’s be careful out there.”

“May God bless.” — “The Red Skelton Show” (1951 - 1971)

“The Red Skelton Show” was mainly known for the comedy sketches performed by Red himself which included an array of comedic characters (Clem Kadiddlehopper, San Fernando Red, George Appleby and Freddie the Freeloader). He also had guest star performers including John Wayne, Phyllis Diller, Jack Benny... the list goes on forever. His opening monologue often included his two favorite seagulls, Gertrude and Heathcliff. At the end of each show, he ended it with thoughts that went something like this.

“Lucy! You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” — “I Love Lucy” (1951 - 1957) That crazy redhead we affectionately know as Lucy Ricardo (Lucille Ball) was never at a loss for words... or hair brained, good-natured mischief. Her cohort, Ethel Mertz (Vivian Vance) was somewhat skeptical at times to play along, but the two BFFs made life interesting for their respective spouses, Ricky (Desi Arnaz) and Fred (William Frawley) to say the least. When Lucy tested Ricky’s patience one too many times, he screamed the only phrase that came to mind (each time): “Lucy, You got some ‘splainin’ to do!” Don’t we all use that phrase ocassionally when we get pissed at our significant others (no matter what gender they are)?

“Yada, Yada, Yada” — “Seinfeld” (1989 - 1998)

Let’s give a big round of applause to Jerry (Jerry Seinfeld), Elaine Benes (Julia Louis-Dreyfus), George Costanza (Jason Alexander) and Cosmo Kramer (Michael Richards) for giving us the best nine sitcom seasons of our lives. Did you know it was actually George’s new girlfriend, Marcy, who came up with the “yada, yada, yada” expression? If you don’t do anything else today, watch this Seinfeld montage.  

“Come On Down!” — “The Price Is Right“ (1956 - 1965) (1972 - Present)

I don’t care how old you are, you have heard — at one time in your life — a game show announcer say, “Come on down!” You know the game show: “The Price Is Right.” And you know the master of all game shows: Bob Barker. The point is, no matter what year you were born, somewhere, on some network, “The Price Is Right” has been on your radar. Unless you live in a third world country. Check out this “Come on down!” video with Bob Barker.

“Sock it to me.” — “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In” (1967 - 1973) The comedy team of Dan Rowan and Dick Martin hosted this psychedelic, fast-moving comedy series that featured series regulars Lily Tomlin, Ruth Buzzi, Judy Carne, Goldie Hawn, Arte Johnson, Jo Ann Worley, Gary Owens, Alan Sues and Henry Gibson. Judy Carne became the butt of the joke when she said, “Sock it to me.” They doused her with water or gently assaulted her with rubber objects. Be careful what you say out there.

“Dy-no-mite!” — “Good Times” (1974 - 1979) “Good Times“ lets us in on the lives of Florida (Esther Rolle) and James Evans   (John Amos) and their three children, J.J. (Jimmie Walker), Thelma (Bern Nadette Stanis) and Michael (Ralph Carter). “Episodes of Good Times deal with the characters’ attempts to survive in a high rise project building in Chicago, despite their poverty” ... and hilarity ensues. Fess up, you know you said the word “Dy-n-Mite!” every time something good happened in your life back in the day, thanks to the adorable J.J. (Although nobody says it better!)

“God will get you for that!” — “Maude” (1972 - 1978)

Who remembers that “Maude“ was a spin-off from “All In The Family?” Yes, Maude (Bea Arthur) was Edith’s cousin —  who  somehow got the spunk gene in the family.  And who remembers that Maude was a “liberal, independent woman living in Tuckahoe, NY with her fourth husband, Walter (Bill Macy)?” And if you didn’t know all that... (say it).

“De Plane, De Plane” — “Fantasy Island” (1977 - 1984)

Picture it: a remote tropical island resort where all your dreams come true. Well, not exactly. There were glitches in those wishes. Mr. Roarke (Ricardo Montalban ), assisted by his adorable miniature side-kick Tattoo (Hervé Villechaize) had the best of intentions of making his guests live out their fantasies, but what kind of show would that be if everything were perfect? You could count on one thing. The beginning of each episode,  a plane arrived with their (we’re presuming rich) guests. Tattoo always alerted Mr. Roarke, by pointing up to the sky, announcing: “De Plane, de plane!” Welcome to Fantasy Island.

“What U Talkin’ ‘bout Willis?” — “Different Strokes” (1978 - 1986)

“Different Strokes” starred Gary Coleman and Todd Bridges (Arnold and Willis Jackson), Conrad Bain (Phillip Drummond) and Dana Plato (Kimberly Drummond) who were perhaps one of the first racially mixed families on television.  Arnold didn’t hold back when Willis came up with some bizarre and/or surprise monologue that got his goat. “What u talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?”  Too cute!

“Book ‘em, Danno.” — “Hawaii Five-0” (1968 - 1980)

This may be my all-time favorite detective show based in Hawaii (sorry “Magnum P.I.”). And it may well just be because of one of my all-time favorite detective catchphrases: “Book ‘em Danno.” Detective Steve McGarrett (Jack Lord) worked so well with Danny Williams (James MacArthur) in each episode to put the bad guys in hand cuffs. (And who didn’t love that theme song!? Check it out here and turn the volume up and enjoy!)

“Say the secret word and win a hundred dollars.” — “You Bet Your Life” (TV version, 1950 - 1961)

Groucho Marx was probably the first choice to host this quiz show that featured a show chocked full of competitive questions — and some hilarious conversation. As it turns out, the comedian was the perfect host. As in all quiz shows, there is money to be won. But, with the right “word,” a contestant could win an extra hundred big ones. All they had to do was say the secret word. Easy Not so fast. How many words are in the English language? But we loved to hear Groucho announce: “Say the secret word and win a hundred dollars.” Sometimes they did. And that was seriously exciting.

“Say goodnight, Gracie” — “The George Burns And Gracie Allen Show“ (1950 - 1958)                              

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/catchphrases-classic-tv-shows_b_8142724.html

[sutterbabe]

#8 Auston Matthews

Hi!! I love your writing!! Can you do an Auston imagine where you guys are babysitting a teammate's kid and he kinda drops hints about how he wants kids?

I sorta changed it a little bit

I babysit this gorgeous little kid called owen and I love him so much he is the purest being on this planet. 

Song suggestion of the day: Boo by shortstraw

Song i was thinking about when writing this: Whatta man by Salt-n-pepa esp the line: ‘I think i wanna have your baby’ lmao 

If you were being honest, the best part about getting to know the wags of some of the older guys on the leafs roster was the fact that you’d get to babysit their kids. You and Auston had been together for almost five years, which simultaneously felt like forever as well as no time at all. When you’d first gotten together, you guys went out a lot more but now you weren’t so interested in the bar/party/club scene and more interested in hanging out at home with each other and doing weird adult things you never thought you’d want to do (okay, you’d gone to one winery for a wedding but still). Obviously, seeing as you guys didn’t have kids and weren’t sleeping off big nights out, you found you had a lot more free time than Auston’s teammates. Given that, you guys were happy to give families like the Bozaks a break and babysit for them. Kanon was nearing eight and the biggest ball of energy you had ever seen. So at first, when it came to babysitters, Zach had ALWAYS been favoured above you. You get it, the guy writes children's books and he’s like the nicest dude ever. Heck, if you had kids, you’d definitely want him looking after them. Then slowly but surely, Zach was high in demand and you guys got a shot at kid-watching duty. Look at you now, regulars!

To be honest, you didn’t blame most of the parents for wanting to get out every once in a while. Kids are full on. But totally worth it. You could not wait for the day you got to welcome your own baby into the world. You knew Auston loved kids, but if he wanted them.. well you assumed he wanted them eventually. With you? hopefully. In the next few years? yeah, no. Which was sad but you totally got that he wanted to figure himself out first. He’d been in the NHL for seven years and hockey was a big deal for him. You didn’t really know if he’d even thought that much about having kids.

“What are you thinking about?” Auston asked, glancing over at you.

You glanced over at him from looking out the window as you drove and smiled softly. “Nothing.”

He smiled at that, reaching over to hold your hand as he drove. “Okay.”

You giggled at that. “You’re really cute.” you told him and you caught him flush gently at that.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” he mumbled, unable to wipe the massive smile off his face that occurred every time you complimented him. You smiled and leaned across to kiss his cheek.

“I don’t think i told you this enough, but you looked really good the other night.” you added.

“Well, I know I definitely looked like nothing compared to you.” he replied. “Did my best to clean up nicely though, didn’t want to kill your aesthetic.”

You laughed. “What aesthetic? My ‘try-not-to-fall-down-the-stairs-in-those-heels’ aesthetic?”

“No your ‘I-am-literally-the-hottest-person-on-the-planet.’ aesthetic.” Auston replied replied with a chuckle. “Besides, those shoes have me convinced that people who wear heels would survive the apocalypse.”

You laughed. “I’m not sure if that’s a good thing but I’ll take it anyway.” you informed him as he pulled into the Bozak’s driveway. You were there a little early to help keep Kanon busy while Tyler and Molly cleaned up the house before people started arriving.

Yeah so apparently adult things also included ‘casual drinks’ at people’s houses. Which was fine but like a lot of small talk so you and Auston either ended up hanging out with people’s kids (or dogs if they didn’t have kids), which you had no complaints about. Everyone didn’t seem to mind, as it at least kept the littlies occupied.

Kanon was waiting outside the front door for you, bouncing excitedly on his heels.

“Hey, bud.” Auston grinned, crouching down to greet him with their customary fist bump before Kanon was ushering you through the house to the kitchen where Tyler and Molly were getting everything ready.

“Mooomm, Auston and Y/n are here!’ Kanon announced as he dashed into the kitchen.

“Careful, buddy, no running in the kitchen remember.” Tyler said, catching his son round the chest before he could barrel into his mother.

“Okay.” Kanon replied, but all four of you knew that he’d be doing the exact same thing again within the next half an hour. 

Tyler shook his head with a chuckle as Kanon raced off to his room to get who-knows-what. “Hey,” He greeted, reaching forward to clap Auston on the back in greeting as you hugged Molly ‘hello’ and handed over the salad you’d made.

Kanon was actually pretty quiet compared to normal. He’d been at a sleepover last night so he was still pretty exhausted. 

“Wanna go see how, Kanon’s doing?” Auston suggested, after growing tired of all the small talk he was making.

“Bit eager tonight?’ you chuckled.

“Well, just want to get in as much practice as possible.” He reasoned.

“Practice?” you questioned, but Auston avoided the question, branching off from the adults and going to hang out with Kanon.

“They’re boring. All they talk about boring things.” Kanon noted when you joined him. “I don’t ever want to be an adult.”

“Well.. we’re adults...”  You started.

“But you’re cool. You’re not boring.”

“So if, you have to be an adult... you’d be a cool adult, like us?”

“I’d be a cool adult, but I wouldn’t be you.” Kanon told you pointedly.

“Who would you be? Connor McDavid?” Auston chuckled. “I wouldn’t be him, ‘cause he’s a boring adult too.” 

you elbowed Auston in the ribs gently as you hid a chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“I’d be me, but old.” Kanon told-you a matter of factly. 

You nodded in agreement. “Good plan.”

“So what makes us cool? Because I don’t wanna get boring like all the adults.” Auston said, dropping his voice to a whisper like he was being let into some big secret.

Five minutes later Kanon had make you a whole flowchart for avoiding ‘boring adult status’.

“Okay. Number one!” Kanon announced. “Are you an adult?”

“yes.” you and auston both answered simultaneously before chuckling lightly.

“Okay.” Kanon said, circling ‘addalt’ in a different coloured pen.

“Do you have children?”

‘No,” you replied as Auston said “pretend we do.”

You glanced at him and he shrugged casually. “Well, we don’t want to be boring for our kids do we? Gotta start preparing so we don’t become boring parents.”

Kanon eyed you both suspiciously. “...okay. Step one if you have children is... No Embarrassing them!”

“Okay.” you said. “Auston, you got that one?”

“Are you ready for number two?” Kanon questioned.

You both nodded.

“No having parties without other kids there. Otherwise your kids will get bored!” Kanon told Auston sternly. “And last. No talking about boring things. So don’t talk about bills or roadworks or the weather!”

“What about... work?” you asked.

“No work! You can talk about hockey and toys and movies but no work!” Kanon warned, making you nod rigourously.

“yes, of course not.”

He narrowed his eyes at you both. “But you guys don’t have a kid!”

Auston nodded. “I know. But do reckon we should? Would we be good at being cool parents?”

Kanon thought for a moment. “Yeah. Then I wouldn’t be lonely everytime all the adults come to our house. But I don’t think you would be boring adults.”

“Well, thats very important to not be boring. That’s why we wanted to ask you lots of questions, since you’re the cool expert.” Auston explained.

Kanon nodded. “That was a good idea.”

After the guests had returned home, you stayed back for a bit to help clean up.

“you alright, Y/n? Looks like there’s something on your mind.” molly noted as she glanced across from where she was picking up glasses to take inside.

You sighed. “I think Auston wants kids.”

“Why the sigh? Isn’t that a good thing?”  Molly questioned with a hint of confusion.

“Well he hasn’t like... outright ever told me he wants kids but.. some of the things he’s been saying these past few weeks... I don’t want to interpret it all wrong and get my hopes up when he isn’t ready.”

“Y/n,” Molly smiled. “Theres no harm in talking to him. “Besides, guys are weird. He’s not going to come straight out and ask you to have his baby.”

you laughed at that. “They are definitely weird.” you agreed.

“Kiddo in bed,” Auston announced as he walked into the kitchen with a grin, Tyler following by his side. “Let’s hope I have the same magic touch with our kids, huh?”

You and Molly exchanged a glance. “Subtlety is definitely not his forte.” Molly murmured, making you laugh gently.

“Well, we better head off. You ready to go, Y/n?” Auston asked.

You nodded, turning to Molly and giving her a hug goodbye. “Thank you so much for having us!”

“Oh you’re very welcome. We’ll see you at the game!”

“I can’t wait till we have that.”

“Have what?” you questioned, glancing over at Auston as you dropped your bag on the kitchen bench.

“A family.” he shrugged.

“Is that what tonight was all about?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He sighed defeatedly, caught in the act. He ran a hand through his hair before glancing up at you. “I really want to start a family with you, Y/n.”

you giggled. “Well you could’ve just said so.” you replied with a grin, throwing your arms round his neck and placing a gentle kiss to his nose.

[lifebooksloves]

MEANT FOR YOU by Michelle Major

Life, Books, & Loves Presents: MEANT FOR YOU by Michelle Major

Will a ploy to impress old high school classmates turn into a second chance at love for Jenny and Owen? Find out in MEANT FOR YOU by Michelle Major.

Synopsis:

Single mom Jenny Castelli has a temper to match her red hair. When the former mean girls of her high school insult her son, Jenny fires off a big lie—that she’s engaged to a rich, handsome guy and is bringing him to their ten-year reunion. Now she needs to find the perfect fake fiancé for one night. And only one man fits the bill.

Geek turned tech entrepreneur Owen Dalton already had his heart broken by Jenny Castelli. Still, he finds himself agreeing to her proposition—even as he struggles to remember that the chemistry sparking between them isn’t real. But when Jenny’s ex makes a play for custody and Owen is forced to deal with the family who always treated him as “second best,” their arrangement suddenly becomes very personal. And that lie they’ve been telling everyone? It isn’t nearly as big as the one they’ve been telling themselves.

Pre-order at:  Amazon Add to your Goodreads TBR pile!

Excerpt:

“I came here to ask you to marry me.”

A bomb landing on his desk couldn’t have rocked Owen’s world more than that one sentence.

“I don’t mean get married for real,” she added in a rush. “Just one night.”

“One night,” he repeated, nodding as if his body wasn’t reeling in shock. “You want to marry me for one night?”

“Marry isn’t the right word.” Color rose to her cheeks, and he wondered if there was anything more appealing than watching Jenny Castelli blush. Her normally creamy skin flushed pink and somehow it was the perfect complement to her fiery red hair.

He hadn’t seen her since Ty and Kendall’s wedding last summer. While he relied on time to lessen the intensity of his normal reaction to her, his body hadn’t registered the message.

Her hair was pulled away from her face, and she wore a faded denim dress and work boots. The combination of the soft fabric and the hard leather, with just the tiniest bit of leg peeking out at the hem, about did him in. He’d always been too inclined to let his heart lead him and still believed the combination of tech savvy and emotional intelligence had led to his company’s success.

Owen had a gift for reading what consumers craved as far as daily use of technology and connectivity needs. His microprocessors and mesh networks had revolutionized the way personal devices communicated and how people used the Internet. But that reliance on emotions had proved disastrous in his private life, and he’d made a concerted effort to become the type of man who didn’t let his feelings rule his life.

Jenny was the epitome of temptation standing in front of him. Her lush mouth pressed into a thin line as her caramel-colored eyes filled with uncertainty. He was used to watching her head-butt her way through life, bulldozing through anyone who got her in way. It couldn’t be easy for her to come to him, and he wanted to believe the fact she had meant something.

Once upon a time, he’d wanted to slay all of Jenny’s dragons. But she’d destroyed what had been between them, and this was his chance to exact a bit of retribution for the pain and embarrassment she’d caused him.

Yet even if he couldn’t understand what the hell she was talking about, he wanted to answer yes to all of it, which made him the biggest fool on the planet.

It would be a hell of a lot easier if he could just design a fake heart for himself—something that would keep him alive like a machine without the need for messy emotions. His own version of Tony Stark’s Arc Reactor glowing from his chest.

“What is the right word?” he asked slowly, forcing his heart to calm its frantic beating.

“A fiancé.” Her lips curled as she uttered the word, as if it tasted rancid on her tongue. “I’d like you to pretend to be my fiancé.” He must not have hidden his reaction because she added, “Like I said, it’s only for one night. I’ll pay you.”

If his head weren’t spinning, he would have laughed. “You’ll pay me? Are we talking cash or favors of the sexual variety?”

She sucked in a breath and he saw her eyes flash. She clenched her fists to her sides as she took a step toward the desk. “Who are you right now?”

“I’d think you’d know that given you just proposed to me.”

“I didn’t . . .” She paused, drew in a breath. “You aren’t the Owen I know.” Moving closer, she studied him. “You cut your hair.”

“Shall I tell my stylist you approve?”

“Where are your glasses?”

He lifted a finger to the bridge of his nose, as always surprised to find it empty. “I don’t wear them anymore.”

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want to talk to Jenny about his transformation and what—or who—had been the catalyst for it. “I still can’t figure out why you’re here. We’re not getting married, fake or otherwise. If you need an escort, pay for one. I’ve got a day job that keeps me plenty busy.”

“I need you, Owen.”

The only time he’d heard her voice like that, strains of vulnerability coloring her inflection, was when she’d murmured a hushed apology after he’d discovered her in the arms of one of his business associates at a fund-raiser where he’d been thrilled to introduce her as his girlfriend. It was a moment he would never put himself in a position to repeat.

“No.”

Her eyes widened a fraction, but Jenny was a fighter, and she only took another step closer. “It’s my high school reunion. I . . . you . . . the women organizing it . . .” She bit off a harsh laugh. “God, they were the worst of the mean girls back when I was in school. They had no use for me and . . . once I infiltrated their ranks by garnering the attention of one of the boys who belonged to them . . . then they hated me.”

“Don’t go to the reunion,” he told her, even though he should just keep his mouth shut. No was the only word Jenny Castelli deserved to hear from him.

“No shit, Sher—” she muttered, then bit down on her lip. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I wasn’t planning on going, and then I ran into them today and they were talking about Trent—”

“Who’s Trent?”

“Cooper’s father.”

“The one who’s never seen his own son.”

She nodded and he tried to ignore the way her skin paled. She sighed and he felt the whisper of breath against his jaw. “You know my mouth, Owen.”

He stifled a groan. Christ, how he knew her mouth.

“They started talking about Cooper, insinuating that he was bound for trouble because he didn’t have a father.” Her eyes drifted closed for an instant as she murmured, “That he was a mistake.”

“Jenny.”

“So I shot back that he has a man in his life who loves him.”

“Cooper has lots of people who love him, Jen. He’s a great kid and you’re a great mother.”

She stared at him a long moment, then said, “But that’s my fear, you know? What if I’m not enough? It feels like I’ll never be enough.”

His heart stumbled at her admission. He knew. And he understood because, as different as their circumstances were, he and Jenny shared that deep, hidden wound.

“You are enough.”

She snorted. “You sound like my mother. I’m not to the people I grew up with, and before you turn into my mother and start lecturing me on my self-worth, I know I shouldn’t let their opinions matter.” She met his gaze and what he saw in the depths of her light brown eyes slayed him. “But it’s not about me. I can live with my shortcomings and all the mistakes I’ve made. We both know the list is long and creative.”

He inclined his head.

“They went after Cooper. I couldn’t let it go.”

“You told them we were engaged?”

“Not exactly. I never mentioned your name, but they assumed it was you.” She gave him a rueful half smile. “I might have mentioned my enormous engagement ring.”

“I have deep pockets.”

“You do,” she admitted, looking vaguely embarrassed. “Before I knew what was happening, they posted about a celebrity guest coming to the reunion on Facebook.”

“Ah, yes. Money makes me a bit of a celebrity.”

“You’re no Mark Zuckerberg,” she shot back, then winked.

She was teasing him. His body hummed in approval as the glow returned to her eyes. Jenny was bold and brash, but more than anything, she belonged in the light. The scent of the sun warming the earth always reminded him of her and made him long for things that were never going to be.

Which was why he should stay far away. She was like quicksand from the old seventies TV shows—one false step and he’d sink into the abyss.

“I know I’ve given you plenty of reasons to hate me,” she said after a moment.

“One in particular,” he agreed.

Her lips compressed, but she nodded. “I’m desperate, Owen. It’s one night, and I’ll find a way to make it up to you.” She crossed her arms over her chest as if preparing herself for the rejection.

He had every right to give it to her. It was a perfect opportunity to prove that Jenny Castelli was well and truly out of his system. He didn’t owe her a thing. But as he opened his mouth to repeat his earlier no, his gaze snagged on a framed photo tucked into the corner of the bookshelf that lined the wall behind her.

It was a snapshot of Owen and Cooper, taken during the brief months of his relationship with Jenny. He’d helped Cooper with his science project, which had taken second place in the school district’s competition. Owen felt they’d been robbed of the win, but Cooper had been thrilled with his red ribbon and had sent Owen a heartfelt thank-you note along with the photo.

He wasn’t sure why he’d kept it, but seeing the boy’s innocent face made a slow ache echo through Owen’s chest. His parents were still together, but Owen understood what it was like not to have a father’s support. It was a pain that lingered long after he’d thought he pushed it to the dark, shadowy places inside him.

Even though Jenny had hurt him once, he couldn’t deny that her love for her son was fierce and pure. He hated to think of the jackass rich boy who’d walked away from her years ago having the last laugh.

“I’m curious to hear how you’ll make it up to me,” he said, and had the satisfaction of watching her jaw drop. Clearly she’d braced herself for another no. Which he certainly should have given her.

“What do you want?” she asked without hesitation. “I’ll do anything.”

“After what you did, do you trust me enough to make that offer without qualification? This could be my chance for payback.”

“You can change your hair and your clothes,” she answered, her dark eyes glinting, “but you’re a good man, Owen. I know you.”

“I’m not sure you do anymore.” He shifted, the awareness sparking along his skin forcing him to move before it burned him with its heat. “I haven’t decided what I’ll ask in way of recompense, but it’s part of the deal. You will agree.”

She stuck out her hand. “Anything.”

He stared down at her hand like it was a demon tendril come to ensnare him and pull him through the gateway of hell. After a moment she dropped it and muttered, “Thank you, Owen.”

He gave a slight nod. “When is the reunion?”

“This coming weekend. They’ve rented out a ballroom at the Hotel Boulderado.”

“Text me the particulars,” he said, tapping a finger on the top of his desk. “I have another meeting this afternoon and we’ve wasted enough time together.”

He saw her flinch before she straightened her shoulders. He had the sudden uncomfortable sensation that he’d just kicked a puppy.

“Are you going to be a dick the whole time?” she asked even as she took a step toward the door.

Not a puppy. More like a baby tiger, cute to look at it but still with a mouthful of sharp teeth.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to complain if I am,” he answered smoothly.

“You’re right,” she said after a moment. “I appreciate you doing this.” With a last nod, she turned and walked out of his office.

One night, he reminded himself, ignoring the rapidly expanding knot of dread in his stomach. It was only one night.

About Michelle Major:

Michelle Major grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. More than twenty years ago, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Today her home includes her husband, their two children, several furry pets, and a couple of well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion for writing stories with happy endings

Connect with Michelle: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon

Disclosure: This information was provided by Barclay Publicity and Michelle Major. This is NOT a compensated post.

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