#(Gold took a lot of time to make sure her aggressiveness was tightly linked to whether she SHOULD be aggressive)

[allthingsglittergold]

Homura might be placid in most circumstances, but that's because Gold has trained her to be. She was incredibly biddable even as a Houndour.

When it comes to battles or matters of defending those she cares for, though? That's when she becomes an incredibly intimidating stereotype of how people think a Houndoom should act.

[eerythingisshaka]

Play Though?  Pt. 2

Part 1

(Dad!M’Baku x Black!OC)

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: I started the first chapter as a Reader insert, but I’m starting to feel more for original characters, so our main girl, Xavier’s mom and M’Baku’s love interest is Remi!  

Remi had a problem, a pretty big one.  A couple of days had passed since the unexpected friendship between M’Baku and both of their children.  Xavier had talked his mother’s ear off to death about his spunky little new friend he made, and it made Remi genuinely happy to hear.  She wanted her son to get in touch with his new friend again and have a solid friend, however thanks to her father, that may not happen.

M’Baku thought he was slick giving his number to her instead of the other way around.  This forced Remi’s hand to have to make the decision and time to make the phone call and invite them over for the playdate that was promised.  And sure, if Remi said she didn’t want to see M’Baku again, it would be a lie.  But she didn’t even know where to start with him.

“X, get your backpack, it’s time to go baby.”  Remi says, sliding her shoes on as she grabs her keys.  

Xavier drags his feet into the kitchen along with his backpack on the floor.  “Mama.”

“You didn’t pack your game in there right?  I don’t want a kid to steal it.”

“Mama.”

Remi grabs her purse talking to herself.  “If I am late again, I’ll fire my damn self.  Shit!”

“Mama!”  Xavier yells out.

“Oh!  Mama’s sorry, I know that’s a bad word.”

“Daddy say that all the time.”  Xavier says matter of factly.

Remi turns to him with her hand on her hip.  “Excuse me?  ALL the time?”

Xavier nods, picking at his nose.  “Mama I don’t wanna go.”

Remi sighs walking over to her son and kneeling at his level.  “Why not?  You had a good time last week.  You have friends there.”

He shrugs.  “I don’t feel good.”

Remi puts a hand to his forehead.  “You’re not hot...Is it your tummy?”  

Xavier shakes his head.  “Sometimes I don’t wanna go is all.”

Remi looks at her son’s round face lovingly.  Her eyes looking back at her has always been a quick source of pride for Remi.  Her hair texture, face shape, and bits of personality brought back memories of when she was a little girl.  She took her time with him in moments like these.

“Well son, you know how Mama has to go to work everyday?”

“Not Saturday!”  He corrects.

Remi chuckles.  “Yes, smart boy.  Not everyday do I work, But when I have to I go.”

“But you’re big, you have to.”

Remi smirks.  “I am, but you have things to do too.  Like keeping your toys cleaned up, and eating your peas and carrots.”

Xavier crosses his arms.  “I don’t like those.”

“I know X.  But think when I wasn’t feeling good on your birthday and you wanted your favorite blueberry waffles and sausage links with lots of syrup and scrambled eggs?”

Xavier’s eyes widen with excitement.  “Can I have some now?!”

Remi shakes her head.  “No, but do you hear me?  I was sick and still gave your your favorite breakfast?”  Xavier nods.  “So things like that happen.  You do stuff you don’t want to because you want to do right for other people.  I wanted you to have a good birthday even though I didn’t feel good.”

“Whose birthday is it?”  Xavier asks.

Remi hangs her head from this merry go round of a conversation.  “No one’s.  But you have friends and learning to do, which you need to be a big strong boy, so we have to go.”

Xavier pouts heavily as she puts on his backpack and pushes him out the door and in the car.  Once she pulled up to daycare, Xavier’s face is covered in tear trails and snot bubbles, grips her hand tightly as she walks him to the entrance.  A smiling worker greets Xavier happily.

“Ohhh, are we having a rough morning?”

Remi smiles tightly.  “Kind of.  He wasn’t feeling like going out today.”

The daycare worker kneels down.  “Well I’m glad you came.  Today is when we learn about planting with crushed up Oreo cookies and gummi worms and all kinds of good stuff.  Doesn’t that sound fun?”

Xavier rubs his eyes hard nodding his head.  Remi rustles his braids.  “Sure does!  You go ahead with Ms. Faye and have a good day.  I’ll be back soon, ok?”

Xavier, hugs her legs with one healthy squeeze before going in.  Ms Faye stays back with Remi for a minute.  

“He’s been really great with the other children lately.  First whole week without even a threat of an incident.”

Remi nods, folding her arms over herself.  “I think that the word ‘threat’ is a bit strong but I appreciate the update.”

Ms. Faye shrugs.  “Look, it’s tough on everybody involved.  But we try to be supportive and encouraging so he is reminded that no one is against him.  Does he display any aggression at home?”

Remi shakes her head.  “And once again, please watch the words you use to describe his behavior.  Aggressive?  Never.  He is a mama’s boy, turns into a puddle whenever I call him out on the smallest thing.”

Ms. Faye nods stoically.  “Ok.  I know he used to mention visiting his father more often, has he been able to get time with him?’

Remi shifted nervously.  Xavier’s father was a sore subject for Remi to dive into at any point in time.  He is a slick talker, big dreamer which was half the reason Remi gave him the time of day.  He has a way of making her feel like a sinking ship was still rising on the other side of the surface if you hold your breath long enough.  But his promises never came to fruition and led her and eventually her son down a road that they barely got out of unscathed.  She’d hoped Xavier was still young enough to not be worried about the troubles of the past, but it doesn’t seem that way.

“We have plans to see him soon, yeah.  Just don’t bring it up to him, that’s a little too heavy to have on his mind when I’m not there.  Ok?”  Remi says.  Ms. Faye nods knowingly before bidding her farewell.  Remi checks her phone:  of course time got away from her again.

Remi zooms over to the beauty shop, parking in the back as she jogs in the back door to make it to her chair.  

“Uh uh!  I know you not trying to get past us that easily Re!”  

The voice that called her out belonged to Patricia or Trixie, the shop owner.  She’s a middle aged Black woman who looked like Storm’s auntie, grey locs and all sitting atop her head in a bun  and headscarf.  She’s putting a roller set into an elderly woman’s hair.

“I’m sorry Trixie.  I got behind dropping my son off at daycare.”  Remi says, prepping her area.

Trixie fixes her mouth before speaking.  “You spoil that boy too much.  Why don’t you have my cousin watch him?  She run a daycare from her house and won’t charge you an arm and leg to do it.”

“Are we just gonna forget the trap house she lives next to?  Or how she turns deaf and blind soon as someone calls her on that phone she stays glued to 24/7.”  Remi says.

Trixie waves her off.  “Oh the boy gotta learn how to handle himself in the world eventually.  When his father coming by to get him?”

Remi calls a waiting patron over to her chair.  “I don’t know anymore.  I haven’t tried calling him lately.”

“Oh hell, you shouldn’t have to!”  Mika says out the blue across the room.  She works with Remi too, started not long after Remi did.

“Thank you!  The boy ought to be calling you to spend some time with his firstborn!  I still wonder if he lying bout that…”  Trixie adds under her breath.

Remi starts walks her patron to a sink bowl.  “That’s the truth, believe me.   The man acts like his dick is solid gold and his sperm is diamond encrusted.  Surprisingly he don’t give it out willy nilly.”

Trixie helps escort her patron under a dryer.  “He was always so odd to me.  Too pretty to be like that, he oughta be having babies right and left.”

Mika chimes in from her filing her nails.  “He could be like Prince or Leonardo di Caprio out here: had all these women in a tizzy but no kids.  They kept they shit on ZipLoc.”

Remi and Trixie laugh at her suggestion.  “Ok, ok.  But to be serious a second, he should be calling you, for real.  He needs to see his son and you need a break.  I can tell you running yourself ragged making sure the sun revolves around him.”

Remi towel dries her patron.  “I��m good.  Xavier IS my world, I’m not ashamed to admit that.  I’m raising a Black man in the making, and I will not fuck this up, deadbeat daddy be damned.  Plus, I get me time with you all here.  That’s socializing enough.”

Trixie makes a face with a slight eye roll.  “I mean that’s noble and all, but hell, I don’t need you being a spinster at your age.  You still got all that youth, you need to put that beauty and energy into something that’s gonna appreciate it.  You know, someone that doesn’t require potty breaks and reads at high school level.”

Remi scoffs as she combs out her patron’s hair.  “What’re you trying to say?”

“GIRL GET YOU A MAN!  A date, a one night stand, a something with a dick and a pulse!”  Mika exclaims.  The whole shop goes quiet looking at her like the aftermath of an explosion.  “Y’all were thinking it.  You too Mae, I know you know.  You been married 50 yrs and his death didn’t stop you.”

Remi’s patron Mae turned around in her chair wordlessly away from Mika in response.

Trixie tries to even things out.  “Thank you for that Mika.  But what I’m trying to say is you need a night out or something.  You say you socialize with us but you never go outside of this shop with us, and that’s not cuz we ain’t tryin.”

Remi sighs.  “You right, you right.  I got a routine is all, and what if I go somewhere and-and Xavier needs me cuz he misses me?  Having a nightmare?  Wet the bed?”

“Ohhh my God.”  Mika groans.  

“Mika, shut the hell up.  Re, I get that.  When my kids were small, they had my undivided attention cuz I was young, younger than you, and had to hustle to make sure my babies had what they needed so their lives were good despite the circumstances they were brought in.”

“Thank you!  Yes!”  Remi exclaims feeling vindicated.

Trixie holds up a hand.  “But!  I didn’t have a life because of it.  I lost a little bit of what it meant to be me outside of being a mother.  Now, like I said I was younger, less established and had an extra couple kids before your age compared to your one.   All I’m saying is, you have a means to make a life for yourself still without losing yourself.”

Remi sighs.  “The boy is a handful though.  I won’t put a man over my son.  Even like this past weekend, some guy tried to talk to me up with his kid at the park.”

“Oh?”  Mika perks up.

Remi nods, oblivious to Mika’s excitement.  “Yeah!  Interrupting my time with Xavier so he could try and talk me up.  Like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Wait, wait wait.  Ok, first of all, what was the exact situation here.  Did he look like one of these dusty van driving niggas using a kid to lure women or something?”  

“No, Mika!  But he don’t have to, he’s a big ass dude.  Like a fucking...oak ass tree ass, thick looking nigga…”  Remi says hesitantly.  She bites her lip at the thought of his appearance, almost forgetting how handsome he is with the amount of time having passed.  

Trixie walks up to her pointing.  “Girllll, I see you!  He was FINE huh?  Light skinned, dark skinned?”

“Dark skinned, yeah.  His daughter is just as cute too, like gorgeous and smart.  He treats her like a doll.”

“How much time did y’all spend together??” Mika’s voice asks in a high pitched voice, fanning herself.

Remi stamps her foot.  “Y’all stahp!  It’s literally not like that at all.  He tried it though, giving me his number like he just know he gonna see me again.”

Trixie and Mika look at one another one second before falling out in laughter and praise dancing in the middle of the shop.  Remi looks at them in wide eyed wonderment before coaxing them to calm down.

“Aye aye!  This is a place of business y’all, the hell you doin?”

Trixie stops to catch her breath.  “Child this MY place of business, you better turn up!  If you don’t call this fine single father who gave you the go ahead to seek him out, I WILL!”

Remi rolls her eyes.  “It’s gonna be a waste of time though!”

Mika chimes in.  “Let him waste your time!  You got your time too organized, you stiff!  You need something to break down your walls….oh shit!  You see that double entendre!”  

Trixie and Mika screech, giving each other a high five.

“Excuse me!”  Mae says in Remi’s chair.

Remi turns to her.  “Oh oh, I’m sorry!  I’ll get you under the dryer right now.  Excuse the noise.”

She shakes her head.  “No dear, the man who is sweet on you.  Why not try to get to know him a little?  You’re too beautiful to be single, and you both have children.  There’s a lot to relate to one another about.”

Remi smiles sweetly at the old white woman.  “Thank you, I appreciate your advice Mae.  I’m still thinking about it though.”

“Well that is a start in itself.  Pray about it, you’ll know what’s right.”  Mae’s saggy cheeks lift a little as she smiles with a closed mouth as Remi escorts her to a chair for drying.

Mika and Trixie finally got off of the subject of Remi’s potential love life and got through the appointments of the day.  What little time she had to herself was spent thinking of dinner for Xavier and NOW checking the new contact in her phone and wondering if she should take the plunge dive in some uncharted waters.  By the close of business, Remi was zooming over to the daycare to see her little boy; she missed him so much by the end of the work day.  She’s thankful he is still small enough for her to hold and snuggle, though he’s growing up so fast.

When Remi arrives to the daycare, Faye walks Xavier out, who runs the rest of the way over to her.

“Hey X!  Did you have a good day?”  Remi asks, picking him up into a big hug.  He smelled like outside and the coconut oil spray she conditions his hair with.  

His little arms tightened around her head.  “Yeah!  I planted gummi worms and made mud!”

“It was pudding.”  Faye chuckled.  “Xavier was the life of the party today.”

Remi kisses his cheek greedily as she puts him in his booster seat in the back.  When she closes the door, Faye grabs Remi’s attention.

“Remi, he was great today.  He even helped out with the project, passing out our ‘flower pots’, which were just styrofoam cups.  But he really showed a lot of leadership and gentleness today.”

Remi looks back at her little boy in the car with pride.  “That’s what he is, gentle and bossy.”

Faye nods.  “So great.  He even had a lot of conversation for me today.  Someone he met taught him about plants before.  Some kind of strong trees from Africa?”

Remi searches her mind; she always took Xavier to the library for books of all kinds for him to learn about the world, but she didn’t recall anything from books or TV on that.

“Really?  I’ve got to ask him about that, must’ve been on PBS or something when I wasn’t paying attention.”  Remi surmises.

“Well it stuck, I love seeing comprehension in children at a young age.  He’s got a strong foundation for it in you.  Thanks for bringing him by.”  

“No problem!  I wouldn’t mind a discount on fees since he is such a joy.”  Remi says jokingly as she walks to the car.

“If only!”  Faye retorts, waving back proudly.

Remi and Xavier drive home, bopping to the radio edits of their favorite hits the whole way back.  Xavier’s mood lifted Remi’s so easily; she was dog tired on the way to pick him up after hours of being on her feet, but now she felt like they could party all night.  Looking back at his serious jam face mumbling the riff of a Miguel song tickled her, such a performer.

Once they arrived at their home, Remi starts to rundown the menu, heading to the kitchen.

“Ok X-man, we can have some spaghetti, I got turkey meat for sandwiches.  Or I could make those fish tacos, you liked those last time.”

“Mama, can I have my birthday today?”  Xavier calls from the couch he is standing on.

Remi closes the fridge door to approach her son.  “Mk, first, get off the couch.  We don’t even do that on birthdays.”

Xavier jumps off standing by his mom.  “Please?  Can I have my birthday?”

Remi pulls out some bread to make a sandwich.  “Sweetie, I don’t have any waffle mix or blueberries.”

Xavier crawls into a chair.  “No mama, I want birthday.  Not waffles.”  

Remi stops prepping the sandwich to look at her son carefully.  “Your birthday isn’t for six more months, why do you want to celebrate so early?”

“I want Sunny to come over and play.”  Xavier says reaching for a lunch meat slice to chew on.  

Remi looks at Xavier with confusion.  “Who is Sunny, baby?”

“My friend from the park.  Her dad came too, I want to see her for my birthday.”  Xavier says through a mouth full of meat.

Remi chuckles to go back to assembling her sandwich.  “X, you don’t need a birthday to see Jolasun, we can see her anytime.”

Xavier’s eyes light up.  “Can I see her tomorrow??”

Remi groans as she thinks.  “Uhhh, probably not….”

“If it’s my birthday tomorrow, can I see her?”  Xavier asks.

Remi gives her son a look.  “Xavier, what’s this birthday mess you keep talking about?  We will see her when I say we can,  I’m just not sure yet.”

Xavier’s face falls.  “But you say you do cool stuff for my birthday, even if you feel bad.”

Remi purses her mouth and steps away from the sandwich ingredients.  She pulls a seat up next to her son giving him her full attention.

“Listen, that’s different.  I told you that so you would understand why you have to go to school in the morning.  It doesn’t work for other things like seeing friends.”

Xavier’s eyes begin to water as he looks sadly at his turkey slice.  “But I want to see Sunny….”

Remi rubs his back.  “We will, X!  I promise we will, don’t get upset.”

Xavier sniffles.  “But you don’t want to…”

“No! No, I do want to see her.  She’s a lovely little girl.  I’m just nervous about...stuff.”  Remi says curtly.  Mika and Trixie could barely understand her thoughts on M’Baku, how would a 4 year old.

Xavier looks at her with puppy dog eyes.  “I am nervous too Mama.  At school and when I saw Sunny, but then I was happy because they were nice.  Sunny is too mama!”

Remi pulls her son in for a hug as chokes up a little.  His whole world crumbles so easily, she hated to see him get this way.  “X, now calm down so Mama can talk to you.  It’s ok to have friends and I’m glad you want to see them.  I;m so proud of you for being a big boy and not getting nervous.  Ms. Faye told me how good you were today.”

“Yeah?”

Remi nods, pulling him back to face her.  “Of course!  You’re always a smart little gentleman, don’t forget that.”  Remi wipes his tears and grabs a napkin to get at his nose.  “And I know Sunny thinks you’re great too.  So, since she knows how cool you are and wants to see you, why not go see her.”

Xavier’s face lights up again.  “For real??  Are we going to the park again?!”

Remi grabs her phone.  “Well, I don’t know exactly but I’ll call her Dad and we’ll see, ok?”  Remi gives him half the sandwich she made and a cup of juice and chips.  “Sit and eat while I talk.  Don’t drink all the juice and eat all the chips before you finish the sandwich.”

Remi walks over the the living room, sitting in her easy chair to scroll to his number.  Her heart felt like it skipped just at the sight of his name:  M’Baku.  Such a good name, took little effort once you got past the hard B, then your lips and tongue just fall in line with a whisper into the last two syllables.  It’s been days since their first interaction, would he even remember their interaction, her name?

She shakes her head free of toxic thoughts as best she could or she’d never go for it, and hit Call.  This is for Xavier and Jolasun after all, this would have little to do with you and M’Baku if she got her way fully.  The phone rang and rang in her ear, with each ring she wondered if calling was too much.  Maybe she should’ve texted or maybe go to the park like Xavier said and hope to run into-

“Hello?”  M’Baku’s deep, elegant voice bound through the phone to her ear, causing a tingle in her brain.  

“Oh, uh hey!  This is Remi, uh from the park?  You came over to help me with my groceries.”

M’Baku does a low chuckle.  “Yes, Remi, I haven’t forgotten you at all.  But I thought you had forgotten me.”

His tone dropping into a realm of hurt ego, it made him that much more charismatic.  “Well Xavier hasn’t forgotten Jolasun.”  Remi says, steering the conversation back on track.

“Tell her I said hi!”  Xavier yells from his chair with a mouthful of sandwich.

“....and he says hello.”  Remi adds.

“Ahh, I heard.  Jola is still napping, but I will relay the message.”  M’Baku says very relaxed, as if he is settling in comfortably for an intimate conversation.

An awkward pause of silence fills the conversation as Remi plays with her nails waiting for M’Baku to say something, anything to hopefully make her hang up an say that it can’t happen.

“Was...that all you called for?”  M’Baku inquires.  She could hear the smile in his voice.

“No.  Um, Xavier wanted to see Jolasun so I wanted to coordinate with you and see when you’d be free...basically.”

“Ah, so your son persuaded you.”  

“...yea.”  Remi adds curtly.

“Am I invited as well?”

“I mean you would want to bring her here I thought, so….in a way...yes?”

M’Baku groans demonstratively, muttering a few things under his breath for dramatic effect.  “Well, that is good enough for me.  Do you feel like having dinner tomorrow night?”  M’Baku asks.

“Uh, I mean I want the kids to spend time together, we’re not going-”

“Remember when I offered to show you an exquisite, nutritious meal that meat and plant eaters alike could enjoy?”

Remi smacked her forehead.  As hard as she tried to keep this conversation off of flirtation, she maneuvered herself into a ditch of embarrassment.  “Right.”

“Then me and Jola will come by, we can cook as they play, and we will all eat together, eh?”

Remi looks over to Xavier.  “That sounds nice, but I really don’t want to be stuck with trash and dishes.  Sounds like more work then I want to sign up for.”

“I know how to clean and take trash out.  I will bring my own pots, I am particular about my cookware anyway.”  

“Oh?  Are my pots and pans subpar?”  Remi quips.

“I don’t know yet.  I’ll have to come see for myself.”  M’Baku says.  Remi could practically hear his wink.

“Oh God, this is ridiculous.”  Remi shakes her head, gripping the bridge of her nose.  

“What is ridiculous is passing on a chance for a free meal and company since we all get along so well.  The kids have their playdate while we have our-”

“Dinner.  A good meal and babysitting, sounds lovely.”  Remi says.

M’Baku chuckles again.  “Yes, a meal in your beautiful home.  And I sincerely cannot wait for it.”

Remi felt herself getting warm.  The way he said beautiful, it didn’t feel like he meant the house.   She fought herself on wanting to hear that word from his mouth in connection to her instead.  “I...know Xavier and Jolasun will have a good time.”  

Remi hears shuffles on M’Baku’s end.  “I will have to let you go now, lady of the house is stirring.  See you on tomorrow!”

Remi smiles, saying goodbye before hanging up her phone and looking off into space for a bit.  She gets lost in remembering his features, his stance, matching his expressions with the cadence of his voice over the phone and imagining that wide smile excitedly planning a night with her and Xavier.

“Mama!  What he say?”  Xavier asks through a mouthful of crackers.

“Chew your food!  But they will be coming.”

“YAYYY!!”  Xavier pops out of his seat and runs over to his mom, climbing her feet roughly to get in her lap.

“Ouch, boy!”  Remi picks him up the rest of the way, laughing to herself as they embrace.  Xavier looks into his mother’s face, forehead to forehead, nose to nose.

“What do you say?”  Remi quizzes her child, her vision blurred as his features become a Picasso from her eyes crossing to look at him from point blank range.

“Thank you mama!”  Xavier’s breath smells like every component of his dinner.  She loved making her baby boy happy.  It’s not always so easy to do.

--

The next night, Remi lays out a couples of pots, pans, and various utensils to prepare for the night with M’Baku and Jolasun.  He texted earlier in the day to let her know he would be bringing groceries with him so Remi wouldn’t have to worry about having the right stuff, no matter how much she protested against this.  Remi still felt off about tonight, like something wasn’t quite copacetic but she reminded herself this was not a date.  More like a summer camp and they were the counselors….not horny ones like the movies always depict, that’d be gross…

It had been so long since Remi let a man interested in her inside of her home, she really was not sure how to act.  M’Baku could still be just a nice buddy, with little interest in her especially exclusivity.  

Remi groans at the tracks her mind went on.  She keeps steering into a romance thing!  The kitchen was set, so she changed atmosphere, going upstairs to check her face and make sure she was good to go  look-wise.

She tried to keep her outfit cute, but not too elementary school teacher-ish.  Enough to show her assets, but conservative enough to wear to church.  But not too formal to keep up with the kids and there impending messes, just over the line of looking like she cares.  She is at her house for this, but some freshening up is necessary for guests.  

She takes out a nude lip to touch up as she calls out to Xavier.  “X!  Come here so I can see you!”

Xavier’s feet stomp rapidly up the hall to stand outside her bathroom.  He has on his favorite CoryxKenshin shirt with a little plaid shirt layered over it and canvas pants with his Keds.

Remi beamed.  “You are so handsome!”

He looks down at himself, almost going into a headstand as his braids stood up to gravity.  “I do?”

“Yes!  Of course, always!  Are you excited?”

He nods.  “Are we going to sing happy birthday with cake?”

Remi laughs as she fills in her brows.  “No baby, remember?  We aren’t going to do your birthday.  This is a regular day with your friend Jolasun.”

The doorbell rang on cue.

“Sunny!”  Xavier exclaims racing away.

“Xavier, don’t open that door!  I’ll get it!”  Remi’s heart rate picks up as she tries to summon the energy of her co-workers to gage as much of the possibilities tonight has to offer as possible.  Checking her phone, looks like they are a but early, she thinks as she heads downstairs again.  

Xavier is bouncing by the kitchen, ready for an adventure.  His smiling face calms Remi effortlessly as she glides in her confident walk across the floor to the door, putting on a genuine smile as she opens the door.

“Hey, Remi!  And little man!  Look at y’all!”

Remi’s face drops instantly.  “Ron?”

Part 3

Masterlist

Ragtag

@yaachtynoboat711 @chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat@sarcastic-sunshines @great-neckpectations @wakanda-inspired @klaine15689  @foulmouthedandfanfic @nickidub718 @supersizemeplz @yofavcocoa @ashanti-notthesinger

[pocket-anon]

The Long Way Home (1/10)

OMG, it’s finally here!  I started this story in 2015, back when I was writing for pleasure with no intention of ever sharing any of my work publicly.  It fell to the wayside when I finally got around to joining the fandom and began writing fic formally, and it wasn’t until the opportunity to do the Captain Swan Big Bang came around that I remembered I had it and decided to try to flesh it out and turn it into a completed work.  7+ months later (after a LOT of consternation and whining and “Why did I ever agree to do this?”) it’s HERE.  And I’m SO relieved that it’s done, LOL.

Special thanks to my beta, @captainstudmuffin, and the amazing @lifeinahole27 for their help and patience with me, to @clockadile for lending her sword fighting experience, to @ladyciaramiggles for her feedback on early drafts, to @phiralovesloki for heading this year’s CSBB and fielding my questions, and to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader.  Thanks also to everyone who took my nerdy little survey on nautical terminology in fic (yes, that was for this project), and those of you that sent me words of support about it.

Lastly, deepest thanks to my wonderful CSBB artists, @waiting-for-autumn and @giraffes-ride-swordfishes for giving feedback on early drafts and providing some gorgeous artwork to accompany this fic!  Links to their illustrations of certain scenes (*) will be in the text - please be sure to go show them some love!

Thanks to you all for reading.  I hope you enjoy.  XOXO

Find it on AO3.  Nautical terms glossary here.

Summary:  After an unnaturally long life fraught with personal tragedy, Killian Jones has become known throughout the realms as the infamous Captain Hook, an opportunistic ne’er-do-well and one of the most formidable pirates to ride the waves.  When he crosses paths with a mysterious young woman with no memory of who she is or how she arrived there, he recognizes the chance to claim a monetary reward that will constitute his biggest score yet.  But a journey across the world to get her home leads to a series of adventures that reveal that her value lies in far more than gold and jewels.  A Captain Swan Anastasia AU - sort of.  (Captain Swan Enchanted Forest AU.  Romance & Adventure.  Rated E.)

Warnings: Brief but graphic depictions of violence, peripheral character death, and smut.

“Captain! Captain!”  

The sound of pounding feet approaching the door to his quarters causes the gentleman in question to lift a heavy, dark eyebrow, even as his gaze remains on the leather-bound inventory log he’s hunched over with the ship’s quartermaster.  The Jolly Roger is preparing to pull into port at Vicarstown, and he always prefers to finalize the list of supplies they need to acquire at a stop prior to docking.  It would go better without interruption.

“Captain!”

He gives a long-suffering sigh and drops his head resignedly, his weight pressed forward on his right hand.  “Yes, Mr. Smee?” he drones.

Having been waiting for permission to enter, his slightly pudgy first mate flings the door open, the bearded man’s features twisted into an anxious grimace.  “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but a ship’s been spotted in port.”

He looks up sharply. “Who?”

Smee swallows and licks his lips nervously.  “Blackbeard.”

A muscle twitches in the Captain’s jaw as he considers this information.  It’s not welcome news, to be sure, but there are worse things. Prominent pirate crews like his and Blackbeard’s do not always do well in close quarters, but while their last encounter just under a year ago was tense, no one died.  There’s no outstanding beef between himself and the other captain (that he’s aware of), and frankly, the Jolly sorely needs this stop to resupply and to refill her coffers with the sale of their most recent spoils.

“Do we continue in, Captain?”

The Captain’s steely blue return stare is resolute, his expression bordering on a scowl as he straightens.  “The Jolly does not turn tail for anyone, Mr. Smee,” he snaps.  “Particularly not for that lout.  But inform the men to remain on guard, and assign extra hands to stay behind on watch. No strangers are to be allowed anywhere near the ship, understood?”

His confidence seems to reassure his first mate, who accepts the orders with a hasty bob of his head. “Yes, Captain.”  

As Smee pulls the door shut behind him, the Captain turns and retrieves a sharpening steel from the drawer of the small desk in the corner, running it in practiced strokes along the tip of the polished metal hook that sits where his left hand once was. He signals the wiry quartermaster to resume their discussion with a curt nod and hums acknowledgement now and then as the other man talks, even while his thoughts remain elsewhere.  A less experienced captain might view the presence of the other ship as an opportunity to poach her best crewmen or plunder her loot, but he knows there’s truly little to be gained by starting a feud with a loose cannon like Blackbeard.  The more prudent course is to simply remain alert and hope, for once, for an uneventful visit to port.  

*             *             *

Maggie, a plump woman with graying red hair, plasters on a smile as a large group of bawdy customers pours into her tavern – pirates, by the look of them.  Her suspicions are confirmed when their leader, a tall man with a curly black mane, matching beard, and a tricorn hat brings up the rear. Maggie winces inwardly at the sight of him.  She doesn’t turn paying customers away unless they get out of hand, but it’s nearly happened with Blackbeard and his crew on more than one occasion.  Pirates, on the whole, tend to be an unruly lot, but Blackbeard and the men he generally chooses to sail with are some of the worst of the bunch; it’s no feat to think of half a dozen other crews she’d rather have at her tables.  

Maggie urgently seeks out her newest serving girl in order to shoot her a look of warning.  She took the young blonde in only six weeks ago, and unless the poor thing is even unluckier than they already know her to be, it’s doubtful she has any experience dealing with Blackbeard or his crew. Not that the girl would recall such an encounter, having mysteriously appeared in the middle of their little port town with no knowledge of her own name, much less any other details of her life.  Dubbed “Swan” by one of the tavern regulars as much for her prickliness when harassed as for her enviable beauty, the girl’s entire past is one enormous blank to her, and it’s anyone’s guess why.

Their eyes meet across the tavern, and Maggie watches Swan survey the new crowd with appropriate apprehension before the girl nods back her understanding.  One thing that’s been fairly clear from the start is that Swan has good instincts that make her quick to read a situation and adept at dealing with aggressive drunks who want her services to include something other than bringing them food and libations.  Maggie prays those instincts serve her well tonight, because between Swan’s physical charms and Blackbeard’s reputation for causing trouble, things could get ugly very quickly.

*             *             *

It seems a small miracle when the first hour passes without too much fuss.  The pirates arrive famished and sober and more focused on addressing both those maladies than stirring up trouble.  Though most of them openly leer and make the usual assortment of lewd comments, no one does more than pat or pinch Swan’s ass, offenses that she does her best to ignore.  

Nevertheless, the tension grows as the hours creep by.  Some of the men depart after eating, no doubt heading for the brothels, but half a dozen remain behind, including their captain, a man with glittering dark eyes whose lingering gaze abrades her skin worse than the rest.  Perhaps it’s simply the obvious authority he wields over his men, but there’s something far more intimidating about him than the others, and she does her best to avoid eye contact and keep out of his reach.  Nevertheless, the rum continues to flow, his stare grows increasingly lustful, and by half past ten, she knows by the lascivious curve of his lip and the increasing harshness of his laugh that it’s only a matter of time before he does something one of them is going to regret.

The shoe finally drops a short while later.  He calls her over and invites her to share a drink with him.  She politely demurs, saying that she has other customers to tend to, but he jovially waves off her excuse and rises partway out of his seat, grabbing her skirts as she moves away and yanking her down on to the bench beside him.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you?” he rumbles gruffly, his kohl-lined eyes slightly glassy.  “There’s only one answer to an invitation from a pirate captain.”

Lips in a thin line, Swan fixes him with a scorching glare that causes some of the men behind him to look nervous.  To her utter frustration, the Captain himself seems unfazed as he continues to gaze up and down at her assets.  “Still pretty sure it’s some version of ‘no,’” she retorts, springing off the bench. She gasps when his fingers close around her wrist.  

For a drunken fool, he still has decent reflexes, and his coarse laugh is menacing as he rises to his feet, staggering only a little, and hauls her over none-to-gently.  One beefy hand clamps tightly around her narrow waist, pinning her shoulder to his chest, and he chuckles lecherously as he buries his face in her neck, his acrid breath surrounding her and the sensation of his tongue on her pulse point tempting her to scream.  “Come now, girl,” he growls in her ear.  “Let me show you a good time. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their pleasure with the legendary pirate Blackbeard.”

He moves to paw at her breast, and Swan lets out an angry snarl and tries to wrench out of his grasp.  Her free hand flails to his chest to push him away and lands on one of a trio of short knives the Captain wears girded to his torso.  With a grunt, she yanks it free, flips it to adjust her grip, and whips the blade up against his neck, nostrils flared and chest heaving.  “I’ll pass,” she hisses through her teeth.(*)

It takes Blackbeard’s rum-soaked brain a moment to catch up with this turn of events, but he stills and slowly pulls his face back from her golden curls, eyes rolling sideways to lock warily onto the blade pressed firmly to his skin.  

“Perhaps you’d best unhand the lady before she gives you a shave, Blackbeard.”

They both look up to see an amused-looking man walking toward them.  He’s rakishly handsome, young and tall with short dark hair, three days of scruff on his chin, and blue eyes.  Clad like a man with money, he wears black leather from head to toe, his long, heavy duster swaying gently as he walks, a heavy silver buckle, clasps, rings, and chains glinting in the firelight.  He holds his head high, his swagger and the hand poised casually at his belt helping to camouflage the threatening square of his shoulders and the deadly weapons on his person, and Swan realizes with a small start that the curved silver hook he appears to hold in his left hand is actually a replacement for the hand itself.  Whoever he is, Blackbeard’s men obviously recognize him and do not attempt to get in his way.  

The interloper stops a sword’s length from them and smirks.  “I’d hate to have to circulate the news that your throat was slit by a tavern girl using your own dagger.”

“Hook.”  Blackbeard sneers, though his eyes remains fixed largely on Swan and the blade.  He reluctantly releases his grip on her waist, exhaling when she pulls away and the steel leaves his skin.  “It’s dangerous to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, boy.”

Hook gives a dark chuckle. “Yes, you’ve demonstrated that quite nicely.”  

With Blackbeard’s attention now occupied elsewhere, Swan silently backs up, her heart drumming furiously against her ribs as she keeps the dagger held at the ready and makes a beeline for safety.

*             *             *

Out of the corner of his eye, Hook watches the barmaid slip away, quick as a shadow, to the far side of the tavern with Blackbeard’s weapon still in hand.  She finds refuge behind the counter in seconds, and he satisfies himself that she seems unhurt even as Maggie rushes to fuss over her.  

“The girl is lovely, but she seems like more trouble than she’s worth,” he remarks to Blackbeard. “Best let sirens be.”

His rival growls, swiping a hand across his neck resentfully and checking his fingers for blood.  “I get what I want, Hook.”

“If you want a knife in your belly rather than a roll in the sheets, I’d say she’s happy to give it to you,” he replies cheerfully, allowing himself an admiring glance toward the bar.  “But no sense risking your neck for something easily got elsewhere.”  He steps closer, arching an appraising eyebrow.  “Unless,” he drawls with a wicked grin, “you can’t afford more willing company?”

“Watch your tongue or lose it.” Blackbeard grunts testily and knocks back one last shot of rum before pointedly tossing a small bag of coins on the table.  “There’s never a day my coffers don’t put yours to shame.”  He barks at his remaining crewmen that the brothels await them and stomps toward the door and out into the night without so much as a look back, his men trailing in his stormy shadow.  

Thankfully, the girl is nowhere to be seen as they make their exit.  The palpable tension in the tavern eases and the din swells back to normal levels when the heavy oak door shuts behind the last of them.  Hook inhales deeply, chin tipped slightly upward, and snags Blackbeard's money before going to the bar to pay his greetings to the tavernkeep.

She meets him with grateful eyes and pushes a full bottle of rum in his direction.  “On the house, Captain.”

He favors her with a wide grin and tosses her the little satchel.  “Think nothing of it, love.  My evening will be much better without having to share space with that bloody fool.”

Maggie chuckles and goes back to draining a cask of ale into tankards.  She cocks her head sideways at him.  “You must be in a generous mood tonight to bother talking him into leaving.  I hear the two of you never hesitate to cross swords.”

He harrumphs.  “The bastard’s no challenge when he’s drunk. Plus I’d hate for you to have to wash blood from your walls when time’s better spent making food and ale.”  He pops the cork on the rum with his thumb and takes a healthy swig, humming appreciatively at the sear of quality liquor down his throat.  “With a little luck he’ll leave your new girl alone now,” he mutters.  

Maggie arches an eyebrow, a discerning glint in her eye.   “I’m sure Swan’ll be glad of it,” she replies coyly.

The corner of his mouth quirks upward at the odd moniker.  “Swan?”

“That’s what we call her. Poor dear appeared in Vicarstown over a month ago without any memories; just woke up in an alley with no idea how she got there.  Doesn’t even know her own name.”

He leans forward, frowning. “Really.  Injured?”

“Or cursed.”  Maggie shakes her red curls with a shrug.  “Nary a trace of what did this to her, but she’s good help, smart as a whip, and easy on the eyes, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, so I took her in.”  She sets another brimming tankard on a tray with five others and wipes her hands on her apron.  “Have a seat, Captain.  I’ll send her along with these presently, and we’ll see if she’ll indulge your curiosity.”  She winks.

Hook gives a courtly bow as he backs away with rum in hand.  “I do so enjoy your hospitality, Maggie.”

True to the older woman’s word, several minutes after sitting down with his men at the corner table he favors, Hook spies the girl’s golden head coming toward them.  To her credit, she no longer looks shaken by earlier events, managing a pleasant, professional smile.  It’s no mystery why Blackbeard wanted her; she’s easily the most enchanting creature he’s seen in months, if not years.  Lustrous blonde hair spills in loose, thick waves around her shoulders, firelight dances across graceful high cheekbones and a perfect nose, and long, dark lashes frame her big, mossy-green eyes.  She’s slender with curves in all the right places, and though not dressed as provocatively as many barmaids he’s met, she cuts quite the figure in her tight-laced russet bodice and dark blue petticoat, with more than one man at his table regarding her (and the swell of her breasts) with interest.  

She navigates her way toward them bearing her tray of drinks and sets it down on the table with a murmured greeting.  “Hello. Here you are.  Now, would you all like food, more drink, or both?”  She listens intently as the men begin ordering, intelligence obvious in those lovely eyes.  Then she turns her gaze fully upon him, her expression going solemn.  “I should thank you for earlier, Captain.”

Something about her sincerity causes him to feel almost shy, but he acknowledges her thanks with a tip of his head.  “Yes, well, I’ll have you know your quick thinking deprived me of a dashing rescue.”

His words cause her to smile – this time a real, gorgeous, self-satisfied smile that reaches her eyes and causes his throat to tighten.  She shrugs, lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks.  “Sorry.  The only one who saves me is me, I guess,” she says with a slight blush.

He chuckles.  “Tough lass.”  He holds out his hand.  “Captain Killian Jones.  They call me Hook.”

“They call me Swan,” she returns.  Her palm is soft as it slides into his rough one, but the handshake she gives him is confident and solid.  

He turns her hand over and presses a gentlemanly kiss to her knuckles before letting go, enjoying the way the color in her face deepens.  “So I hear.”

The next few hours are something of a blur to him as he spends it eating and drinking and playing dice, all the while trying his best to keep from openly staring at the Swan girl as she goes about her work.  She’s a delight to watch – graceful, observant, efficient, and savvy when it comes to handling the rougher clientele.  Her fierceness doesn’t end with her encounter with Blackbeard – a grin tugs at his lips each time she uses a baleful stare or a sharp quip to put a presumptuous man back in his place.  She’s fascinating, this woman – a bright jewel in a dingy setting – and so he passes the evening stealing glances and keeping one ear open for the sound of her voice.

It’s just after midnight when the tavern quiets, most of his men having gone off to the brothels or back to the Jolly to sleep off their well-fed, drunken stupor.  Even Maggie has retired upstairs to her apartments, leaving Swan behind to see to the stragglers, most of whom are dozing at the tables.

“Are you not joining your men, Captain?” she asks while gathering dirty dishes from a nearby table.

Hook looks up at her from the supply purchase list he’s reviewing and smiles.  “Why would I do that when the company here is so much more interesting?”

She rolls her eyes, but even in the firelight he can discern another subtle flush in her cheeks. “‘Interesting’ is hardly the right word. I don’t have any stories to tell.”

He hums noncomittally, seeing her modest comment for what it really is.  “Maggie mentioned that.  You’ve no memories at all?”

Swan appears only half-surprised that he’s been told of her situation.  There’s a split-second before she folds her lips ruefully and shakes her head.  “None.”  With an apologetic smile, she carries the plates back to the kitchen.

Hook stares into the fire crackling in the hearth, all of the nightmarish memories that occasionally still haunt his sleep – memories he’s spent decades trying to drown in cheap drink and loose women – coming to mind.  “What is that like?” he asks quietly when she returns, running a finger around the lip of his rum bottle absently.  “To not have any memories?”

She pauses and turns to survey him, and he gets the sensation that she sees deeper into him than he wants to let her.  Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked.  It feels as though he’s just showed his hand.  But his unease is replaced with elation when she sighs and sits down at his table.

“It’s very strange,” she answers, her face honest.  “Empty. I don’t know who I am or where I come from or how I got here, whether I have a family, what my life was like...” She gives a sardonic laugh.  “It’s unnerving.”

Her sad eyes make his heart twinge, and he studies her thoughtfully.  “Well that’s not true; we know some things about you, Swan.”

“Oh, so you’re a pirate and a fortune-teller?” She tosses him a dry look, a delicate eyebrow raised.  

Hook grins at her sarcasm and shakes his head.  “Just experienced.  I’ve traveled the realms for a long time.”  He reaches across the table and gestures at one of her hands.  “May I?”

She blinks, surprise giving way to dubiousness, and considers him for a long moment before finally acquiescing and gingerly setting one of her hands in his.  He tries to ignore the tingle that shimmers down his spine and the uptick in his heart rate that comes from her touch, pointing at her upturned palm with the tip of his hook.  “Look. You have a few calluses, but not enough to suggest a life of hard labor.  The color of your lovely skin in the heart of this summer suggests that either you came from a northern country or you spent most of your time out of the sun,” he continues, thinking aloud.  “The way you speak also rules out half a dozen lands I can think of.”  He smiles back up at her. “See how this works?”(*)

She’s leaning forward now, the skepticism in her eyes fading as she swallows and nods.  She glances at her hand in his and pulls away, clearing her throat and rubbing her palms together self-consciously with pink in her cheeks.  “That’s, uh, that’s actually pretty clever.”

Hook curls his empty fingers.  “Well, I didn’t get to be a pirate captain on my good looks alone, you know,” he quips, flashing a rapscallion’s grin for effect.

She laughs and chews on her lip in a way he finds endearing.  “Anything else?”

He shrugs.  “Well, I think it’s obvious that you’re not from anywhere near here, or someone would have recognized you by now.  No one could forget a face like yours, I assure you.” He winks, savoring her recurrent blush, and his finger taps the table as he continues to muse.  “Have you tried looking at maps?  Perhaps something might look familiar.”

Her eyes light at the suggestion.  “I hadn’t thought of that, but there are maps over at the bookshop.  I can make a trip there tomorrow afternoon.”

He scratches behind his ear. “You know, I also have a very large assortment of maps on my ship which will cover many more lands than what you’ll find at that shop,” he volunteers.  “Perhaps you’d like to come aboard?”  He lifts his eyebrows hopefully.

This earns him an incredulous sideways glance.

“For the maps, Swan,” he says, feigning innocence with a boyish grin.

“I’m sure.”  

His heart falls when she gets to her feet, but his disappointment is tempered by the way her eyes dance.

“I’ll try the shop first, thanks.  I think there’s one thing I can tell you about myself, Captain.”

He arcs an eyebrow.  “Oh?”

She hums knowingly.  “I don’t think I’m the kind of girl you’re hoping I am.”

He chuckles, letting her words sit between them for a moment before rising and pressing a handful of coins into her palm to cover his bill, marveling again at the softness of her skin.  “Perhaps,” he says softly, dipping his nose so it’s inches from hers, “you don’t know what kind of girl I’m hoping you are.”  He savors the nervous flutter of her long lashes and her failure to pull away this time, and he grins, stepping back and giving her a military-style bow.  “The Jolly Roger will be in port at least until Friday.  I hope to see you again soon, milady.”

Swan watches him retreat with wide eyes.  She licks her lips and swallows.  “Goodnight, Captain.”

“Goodnight, Swan.”

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