#*freeze frame* yeah thats me right there you might be wondering how i got in that situation

[demonir]

these two messages of mine back to back on the tf2 server's starboard honestly just speak a lot about me as a person

[glenncoco4]

You Can’t Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 6

••••

The sunlight streams in from the window, illuminating the two bodies buried underneath the fluffy white comforter. He slowly feels consciousness pull him into reality and what a spectacular reality it is. Peering down his body, the form of his beautiful girlfriend as she slowly startles awake brings a smile to his face. “Good morning, sunshine.”

She hums in appreciation as his lips touch the crown of her head and his fingers delicately dance up and down her spine, bringing a welcomed shiver through her body. “Mmmm. Am I dreaming?”

“No. Definitely not dreaming.”

“You know the last time I woke up after we made love, I was alone.”

“I’m sorry.”

She brushes off his apology, tilting her head back, the brunette brings her eyes to his. It’s been 4 months of her constantly thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t left, and she always comes to the same conclusion. “At first I was kinda mad, but then I realized that if we had woken up together it might’ve been a little awkward or I may have panicked like I tend to do.”

“How do you mean?”

Her head finds his pillow as she burrows her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent that is so uniquely him. “Well, we never really talked about our feelings before we jumped into bed together. I mean we loved each other of course but it wasn’t verbalized that we were head over hills in love.”

His silence startles her and she begrudgingly props herself up on his chest only to be met with a goofy grin playing at his lips. “What?”

“I love you.”

God those words coming from his lips is something she never let herself think about, but now its all she can think about. The feel of his touch, his smile...he’s everything. Throwing her leg over his waist, her heat meets his already hardening member, and oh how she loves everything about this new part of their relationship. “I love you, too, but I can probably show you better than I can tell you.” Leaning down, she can’t help but mirror his smile with one of her own as her lips meet his. 

••••

After a very productive morning in bed the pair make their way into the Mission for the first time as partners. Kensi reached her desk, toss a deck of cards into his hands. “I need you to quiz me.”

“For?”

“I have lunch with Anna today.”

“I can’t believe she thinks you’re a curator.”

“What about you? She thinks you’re that guy from Fired Up.”

“I do fit the part, baby.”

They both freeze as the term of endearment leaves his lips. It’s weird but a good weird.

At the sound of their colleagues walking into the bullpen their smiles quickly vanish as Deeks lifts up the first card.

“Oh, uh, uh, Matisse?”

“Nope. Munch.”

He holds up the next.

“Van Gogh?”

“Cezanne.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Seriously, Kens, why are you doing this?”

Before she can answer, Sam walks in, observing the pair. “Hazing the new guy or is he hazing you?”

“Haze me, Kens, please?” The shaggy blonde holds up the next card for his girlfriend, knowing there’s no way she’ll get this one.

“Seurat.” She answers.

The ex-Navy SEAL gets a glimpse of the card, instantly knowing the right answer. “Monet.”

“Bing. Bing. Bing. Sam proceeds to the bonus round and Kensi wins the consolation prize otherwise known as a steaming bucket of fail.” His words may sting but the wink he sends her lets her know that he’s just playing his part in their own little op.

They decided it could be fun deceiving their coworkers about their newly defined relationship. And of course the competitiveness inside them lit up at the idea of a bet as to who would discover what was really going on between them first.

The detective was a bit surprised that his partner chose Eric, he on the other hand chose Callen. Even though he’s barely had a conversation with the man there was something about his quite and questioning demeanor that told him the team leader would find them out first. 

••••

As the day progresses the best friends are sent to the house that belongs to Vakar’s ex-wife. This is sort of their first test as a pair of undercover operators. It’s both exciting and frightening all at the same time. Experiencing something new with the most important person in your world is one thing but experiencing two new changes might be a challenge. A challenge that they’re both ready to face head on.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, the pair make their way towards the house as the blaring alarm sounds over and over again. “What do you know about alarms?”

“Do you not remember my stint with Robbery Division?”

“Right, it was around the same time I was taking the Counter Surveillance course at Quantico.”

“You mean the time you were always one upping me during our daily phone calls?”

She taps her knuckles on the wood frame door before turning to her boyfriend, studying the look in his eyes. “I’m not a one upper.”

“Not normally, but some how just with me.”

“Well I vaguely remember you one upping me this morning.”

His heart flutters as the spark shines in her mismatched orbs. The past 36 hours has been like a whole new experience with her in so many beautifully amazing ways. “Oh, touché.”

••••

As they step inside his apartment at the end of a long first day, the words she had spoken to Emma a few hours ago plays back in her mind. If this man loves you as much as you love him, its not gonna matter. It’ll bring you closer. She’s put off telling him for long enough and now that they’re together, she doesn’t want to keep anything from. Especially this. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

He takes hold of her hand, pulling her body into his before pressing a hungry kiss to her soft lips. A kiss that he’s been craving all day. “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

“What? No, never!” She quickly pulls back, shaking her head profusely.  

“Good to know.”

The cocky grin thats curls at his lips makes her legs turn to jelly. Luckily his arms are wrapped around her waist, giving her much needed support. Taking a deep breath, she searches his eyes hoping that what she’s about to tell him won’t make him shut down. 

He watches as her beautiful mismatched orbs swim with what he thinks is turmoil. There’s not a doubt in his mind that whatever she has to say isn’t something they can’t work through. He leans forward, placing his lips on hers reassuring her once more. “Kens, what is it?”

“It’s about Jack.”

His brow furrows in confusion. That is definitely the furthest thing he thought they would be talking about tonight. “What about him?”

“When he left...”

“Hey, look at me.” His finger finds the underside of her jaw, tilting her head up. Cerulean blues conveying all the love he has for her with one look. “I love you. Nothing’s gonna change that.”

A small smile spread across her face at his words because in their 20 years of friendship he’s never once lied to her. “I told you that he left because of his PTSD.”

“Yeah.”

“But that’s not the only reason he left.”

“Okay?”

“I guess I didn’t realize or want to truly believe what he was talking about until recently...Marty, he left because of you.”

“Me?”

She nods as a soft teary-eyed smile crosses her lips. Her thumbs finding the small of his back, nervously running back and forth across his sun kissed skin. “Yeah, he uh...right before he left, he told me all these things about how he always felt like he was coming in second place to you. He told me that I light up when you walk into the room and how he wishes that I’d look at him even a fraction of the way I look at you. The last thing he said to me was that I was blind not to see how in love I was with you and how you felt the same.”

His face quickly falls as he pulls back from their embrace, making her heart rate speed up. She wasn’t technically lying when she told him about Jack but she did omit a huge part that affected him as well.

As he walk over to the couch a heavy sigh leaves his lips. He sits down, his face immediately finding the palm of his hands as he tries to gather his thoughts.

Trying to remember what he said a few minutes ago about nothing changing his mind about how much he loves her, she can’t help but nervously bite her bottom lip as she finds her place next to him on the couch. “Will you please say something?” 

“Jessica.”

“What?”

“The morning Jack left and you called me, I dropped everything to take care of you. After about a month, she...she uh-came to me and said that I needed to stop lying to myself.”

“Lying to yourself about what?”

“About how I feel about you.” He finally lets himself look at her, unable to get the image of them being together sooner and happier out of his head.

She always had the feeling that the redhead saw through her some how. They got along great, but something had changed in their interactions the last few weeks of her and Marty’s relationship. Now she knows what it was. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“When you said she left because you two were in different places you meant-“

“That she was in love with me, but I was clearly in love with you.” He nods, as the corner of his lips lift into a smile. 

Her brow furrows, wondering what he was thinking or why he didn’t act on his feelings. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He hits her with the same question, knowing that they more than likely have the same answer. 

She willingly goes with him as he pulls them back against the couch. Immediately curling into his body for comfort, her legs find their way across his lap and its in that moment that she realizes how seamlessly they’ve fallen into craving each other’s touch all the time. “We really are quiet the pair, aren’t we.”

“That we are.”

It’s few minutes as they sit there in silence before she flashes back to that night. “Wait a second. You came over that night you broke up.”

“I did.”

Her brow furrows, wondering why he wouldn’t want to be alone after ending a year long relationship. 

“After Jessica told me that I need to wake up, you called.”

“And you answered.”

A look crosses his face as if shocked that she would think he wouldn’t drop everything for her, no matter what it may be. “Of course I did.”

Tilting her head back, she looks up into his cerulean blues, her fingernails finding the scruff of his jaw. “Did we really miss out on 6 years together?”

They could dwell on what could’ve been but there’s no use in wasting any more of their time on it when they’re together, here and now. He shakes his head, trying to find the right words to say to her. “No, not really. I mean you’ve been the most important thing in my life, that never changed. The only thing’s that’s different now is, I can do this.” His lips find the crook of her neck, working their way towards the lobe of her ear. “And this.” He receives an approving moan as his hand works its way underneath the hem of her shirt and towards her breast. 

Her eyes drift close as his lips work their magic and send her body humming with excitement. “Keep talking.”

He suddenly stops his ministrations and briefly pulls back, earning a disapproving moan from his girl.  

Her eyes fly open, and is immediately met with a cocky grin. “What? Why’d you stop?”

“You just told me to keep talking. You’re definitely in love with me.”

“Marty.”

“Yeah?”

She shakes her head as her fingers curl around his golden locks, pulling him towards her. “Shut up.”

“And there she is.” His lips find hers as they fall against the couch, skin to skin, they become closer in more ways than one. 

[heartwoodventures]

Heartwood Hatchingtide!

A mysterious note had been posted on the company’s bulletin board, beckoning members to meet at Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre for a Hatchingtide celebration! But beyond explaining that the event was to ‘help the youth,’ details were scarce. Who’s organizing this? And what activities will happen? You’ll have to go to the amphitheatre to find out.

And the place is absolutely decked out in egg-related decorations! But most prominent is the large and ‘in charge’ chicken, dancing mad on the road leading to the center. They wave at you two, and then continue to jig.

Intrigued by the odd note, Aislinn made the time to wander her way over to the amphitheatre. Whatever was going on, her curiosity got the better of her and she needed to find out.

Cravendy What is an egg’s least favorite day of the week? Fryday! Happy....friday! xD )) Cravendy I inflict pain unto myself everytime I make a pun ))

Riylli shuffled her way through the city, keeping her head down and trying not to attract attention as she made her way to the Ampitheatre. Whatever dour mood she was in would be briefly erased however as soon as she took in the dancing chicken that appeared to be waiting for her. "Er... Cravs..? Is that you..?"

"Twelve save us." Aislinn said, shaking her head as a smile worked its way across her lips. She paused a few seconds more to watch the chicken in its maddening jig, a laugh bubbling up from her throat. "You know, I'd bet gil on it."

Riylli (I love the way our heads move watching her dance Riylli (getting in on the beat Aislinn ((We're mesmerized))

Aislinn - She waves to the chicken. "So what's all this about helping out at Hatchingtide?"

“Cravs? Who’s that?” The chicken momentarily stops dancing and, somewhere in the distance, a kid groans in disappointment. Seeing that, the chicken slumps, but begins to groove once more. “I...I am none other. Huff. Than. Chickendy Hound! And it was I that called you out today on a mission...most. Huff. Important.”

Aislinn's smile widens. "Sounds like you've been dancing there quite awhile, Chickendy Hound." she noted in amusement as she plays along.

Riylli staaaaaaaaaaaared, bewilderment on her face as she tried to wrap her head around exactly what was happening here. That was definitely Cravs. Even without the giveaway of the name, the only other one in the company that tall was Rising, who Riylli was particularly sure would not be able to dance like the chicken was after the previous night. "Er... And what's that then?"

“Ay shite, I’ve been dancin’ for bloody who knows ‘ow long...” Cravs grumbles, and at that very moment a mother and child strolls on by. Cravs stiffens and clears her throat. “I mean. I can dance all day and all night! But now, the egg advocates would have us take care of another chore-I mean, thing of utmost importance. And that...is collecting eggs!”

Riylli pauses her judgmental staring to instead watch the mother and child pass, seemingly getting distracted for a moment before turning back to the chicken and letting out a sigh. "...Right. We gettin' paid for this or what?" She asks coldly, apparently back to whatever bad mood she had been in before meeting Chickendy

In contrast to Riylli's foul (fowl) mood, Aislinn seems to be enjoying this all too much. She makes a poor attempt to hold back any more laughter and nods to the passing mother and child. She couldn't begin to imagine how hot a suit like that must get. "Aye, of course. Harsh task masters, these egg advocates."

“No good deed goes unpaid! Which is to say, no, we’re not gettin’ bloody paid for this. I asked.” Cravs crosses her arms and I swear, you could see her chicken hat’s eyes furrow in grumpy anger. “Though they said we can keep any extra eggs, which ye can probably sell if yer strapped for cash.”

"....ye -do- get a free chicken suit though. That count for anythin'?"

"How, exactly, did they talk you into this, then?" Aislinn wryly asks.

Aislinn leans forward a bit and lowers her voice. "Did you lose a bet?"

Riylli let out another long sigh. "I hate this damned city so much..." She mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose as she seriously considered just turning around right then and there

"Ch-chickendy needs no reason to spread cheer in the world!" It's unclear if that's the whole truth, half, or not at all.

Riylli shot Cravs a glare, "Oy Chickendy, you better give me a better reason than that. How'd the scary pirate lady that can't even apologize end up in a situation like this?"

That earns a doubtful, though amused noise from Aislinn. "Yeah, if Chickendy is anything like Cravendy I'm not sure that math works out." Nevertheless, she shrugs a shoulder. She needed a break from building the prototypes at any rate, it was why she wandered out in the first place. "Alright then, I'm in for a bit of egg collecting." paused. "Chicken eggs, right?" she asked, deciding she better double check.

“HEY. I’m not so cold that I’d refuse to do some good in the world! That, and I didn’t say no right away. These folk sense weakness and twist yer arm until...” Cravs hears something approach from behind and freezes up.

Aislinn ((I'm going to hear this song in my sleep)) Riylli ( PA PAYA Cravendy pa paya! :D ))

An egg advocate comes over, peppiness turned dangerously past the dial. They drop a box containing chicken costumes in front of Riylli and Lin and - did they wink somehow? “You must be joining our friend here in setting up! A thousand thanks for choosing to spend your time spreading the festivities!”

Riylli shot the newcomer a glare so powerful that it could probably be tried as physical assault. "You have to be joking. You want me to wear that shite too?"

Aislinn eyes the chicken suit that was so unceremoniously dropped in front of her. "Wait...you were serious about the costume?" she looked the egg advocate over. The maniacal exuberance and zippered up smile a touch zealous. "Why the suits? We're collecting eggs, right?"

Aislinn ((It's all fun and games until you get stuffed in a chicken suit))

“Of course! The kids -love- it, and it’s said that wearing this’ll help you collect the eggyest of eggs! Chicken eggs!” The advocate unpacks the box’s contents, finds a suit fitting Riylli’s size, and thrusts it upon her without a moment’s hesitation. This person is awfully pushy, with all the strength of a traveling salesman who's got their foot in the door. “Now now, no fussing and get cracking!”

Cravendy laughs weakly.

Aislinn suddenly finds her arms weighed down in a similar fashion. She narrows her eyes slightly over the bulky armload, very likely imagining an unseemingly kind of violence that would wipe the peppiness right out of the pushy advocate. But then she cuts a glance to the still dancing Cravendy and merely sighs. The Seawolf was definitely in dire straits. "Fine. But we bring you back eggs that are eggier than other eggs and then ALL three of us are off the hook."

Riylli is forced to accept the chicken suit into her hands, blinking as her stare went from it, to Cravs, to the advocate. She wondered if it would be possible to evade capture from this deep inside the city if she were to commit some sort of crime right about now. Her attentions thankfully turn back to Cravendy. "The next time we go out drinking, you're paying for every round I feel like havin'" Riylli stated her demands, figuring it would be in everyone's best interest to ignore the advocate

The advocate squeals with glee and points to the west. There, you’ll find the chicken coops, the eggs, the hens! Best of luck! And as the three of them make their way over, the moment Cravs is a safe distance away from the advocate she slumps over. “Thank ye both...that person is frighteningly stubborn. Ye don’t want to know.”

Riylli lets out an absolutely exhausted sigh. "Figured you wouldn't be doin' this if you weren't in some sorta trouble... One day we're gonna have to teach you how to talk to people though." She muttered as she shoved the mask on over her head.

Aislinn stares at the retreating advocate's back, noting how a squeal was not a verbal agreement. A point that might have to be dealt with later. For now, she turns to Cravendy and shrugs. "Sometimes I think our contracts are easier to deal with." she added.

Cravendy nods in agreement with Lin. Clear cut rules, payment! But in the world of volunteering and do-goodery, there was a wide spectrum of folk to tussle with. She looks over to Riylli and snorts. “Looks weird with just the ‘ead.”

Riylli began idly fiddling around underneath her mask as she tried to get it to fit properly. "Course these things don't fit my damn ears... Nice to know nothings changed around here." She muttered angrily, definitely feeling very spiteful today. "EVERY. ROUND." Riylli reminded Cravs, then finally began to put on her suit, grumbling all the while

Aislinn - As they made their way to this special hen house, Aislinn struggled into the ridiculous chicken costume. "Know what this is? This is Nymeia's jest in return for me laughing earlier." she shook her head, her small frame almost swallowed up by the bulk of the costume. Looking down at herself, she laughed. "What is my life right now?" she pondered aloud.

Cravendy ALRIGHT so since the fates up, lets hop to it xD )) Cravendy whoever gets the most eggs...wins! )) Riylli (BAH, I SUCK AT THIS FATE THO Cravendy SAME LOL  )) Aislinn Also same)) Cravendy GDI )) Riylli ( KNOCK ME TO VICTORY Cravendy these chickens have NO EGGCUSE being this rude )) Riylli (GAH Aislinn ((They're very eggcitable)) Cravendy at some point you get knocked around to much )) Cravendy you accept heavy as a way of life )) Riylli (using the aoe to dash me to other eggs Riylli (this is pro gaming Cravendy make sure to turn in your eggs! )) Riylli 16 Cravendy AGHF I keep interrupting myself xD )) Cravendy 12! LOL )) Aislinn ((9!)) Cravendy damn pro gamer over here ahah )) Riylli (Riylli shall win every hunt in this fc Riylli Y E S Cravendy EGG )) Cravendy OMG )) Cravendy thats cannibalism! xD )) Riylli (victory tastes so good Cravendy tho my parents own chickens and they egg their own eggs all the time lol )) Aislinn ((Are you eating them ALL? Cool Hand Luke over here)) Riylli eggsecution Cravendy STOP you'll overdose on them! )) Riylli (I aint doing it again you cant make me Aislinn ((EGGsplosion))

Cravendy limps away from the henhouse. Truly, these birds were in a fowl mood! But she’s managed to collect a dozen and that’s something, right?

Riylli finishes her hunt with sixteen total eggs in her basket, the ultimate hunter in both speed and grace. Of course, she may have thrown some chickens around and caused some children to cry, but victory is all that mattered in the end. If she had to be a chicken, she would be the GREATEST CHICKEN

Aislinn hurriedly clambers over the fence, a basket half-full of eggs and the sound of muffled curses coming from under her mask. "Those birds are not normal. I see why we need the damned suits now. They're protection."

Cravendy - “Never thought I’d be tossed around by a...by a chicken?!” Putting it into words doesn’t help at all. She peers over to Riylli’s haul. “‘ow’d ye manage to get so many?”

Cravendy LOL at any cost, Riylli will be the ultimate chicken xD )) Riylli (Shoving children over and stealing their eggs

Riylli puffed up her chest, somehow managing to look proud even inside such a ridiculous outfit. "When will you learn... Keepers are the greatest hunters there are! Doesn't matter if it's beast or bugs or... or eggs..." Her confidence wavered a bit at the end there, but she wasn't about to give up this opportunity to gloat

Aislinn pulls her mask off with a huff and pushes back the hair plastered to her brow. She quietly counts up the eggs between the three of them. "This better be enough to buy your freedom from this cult, Cravendy."

Cravendy “Smaller target is all. Chickens were too busy chasin’ me around.” Cravs smirks beneath her hat.

Riylli pulled her chicken hood off, freeing her ears from their confines and giving them a tentative flick. Despite herself, she was wearing a large grin that let Cravendy know this was not the last time she would hear of this. "Sure, sure, whatever you say."

“I ‘ope so too, Lin.” Cravs sighs, thinking back to how chicken-garbed strangers would pop out at the strangest of times, incessantly asking about when she was going to finally help out. But when she sees the smiles on everyone’s faces, a part of her gives. It’s not all to keep nosy birds off her back. “...OY WAIT. Cravs? It’s Chickendy!”

Aislinn starts peeling off the hen-pecked suit and shoots the Seawolf a wry smile. "Aye, aye. Chickendy. My mistake." she paused, struggling to fold the suit over one arm while holding her basket in the other. "Should we get these over to the amphitheatre so they can be...decorated or painted. Whatever they do to them next."

Cravendy sulks. She knows that tone. Call her crazy, but a small part of her had held onto hope that somehow the two of them hadn’t made the connection. “Ay, let's get this over with.”

Riylli glanced down at the mask in her hands and thought for a moment, before suddenly deciding to put it back on. "Think Ill keep this on 'till were out of the city... Personally I hope Chickendy sticks around though. She can dance for us next time we go out on a mission, keep our morale high." She teases

Aislinn slides a glance Riylli's way. "Might come in handy if we ever face down another mob of avians."

Cravendy nearly chokes at the thought of dancing to raise morale. But she fumes in silence.

As you approach the amphitheatre once more, the sounds of children laughing fill the air. All around you, families and friends excitedly partake in egg-related activities. The advocate happily accepts the party’s baskets, and then hands each of them a delicately painted egg. “You all did so good! Here, as a reward!”

Riylli silently accepted the egg, paused for a moment, then immediately dropped it. "Woops." She muttered, sarcasm absolutely dripping off her tone. It seemed now that the thrill of victory had faded, Riylli was back to her previously grumpy self. "So sorry, hard to get a good grip in this costume. You understand I'm sure."

Aislinn nods in thanks as she carefully takes the egg. She smiles in her quiet way as she runs a finger along its surface, appreciating the detail. After a moment, she looks back up at the advocate. "Those are quite some chickens you've got there. The suits did actually come in handy."

Cravendy takes the egg and pockets it. Somehow.

“No worries! Have another!” The advocate presents another gift to Riylli. A chocolate egg. They then turn to Lin, sunshine exuding from behind their feathered maw. “The finest hens in Eorzea! And they lay the tastiest eggs too!”

Riylli accepts the gift, and then drops the gift. "Woops." She said again, practically challenging the advocate to give her another. Pettiness was her specialty, and she could do this all day.

The henny-helper hums in thought, and then raises a finger as a lightbulb lights up above their head. They take out a sticker and plaster it on the center of Riylli’s chicken hat. Bock bock!

“I’m free now, right? I am, right?” Cravs asks, and the Hatchingtide worker nods. Cravs stumbles back in relief, and then looks to Lin and Riylli. “Thanks...er, strangers. Well, I must be off. To somewhere.”

Aislinn sighs softly. "Nymeia's breath." she says, barely audible. This way lay trouble, she could sense it. "Right, then. Ah...thank you, I suppose." It seemed the polite thing to say. "And...good luck with the rest of your Hatchingtide. We'll just be heading out now."

Aislinn begins back away slowly

Riylli stared, trying and ultimately failing to figure out a way to counter this attack as well. Giving up, she turned to Cravs. "See you later Chickendy, try not to make eye contact with any strangers on your way out." She said, offering her a wave. She followed close to Aislinn as she backed away, sighing heavily. "Lets go back to the house and burn this shite..."

Although they had been strongarmed into helping out, the three of them did good in spreading festive cheer in Gridania. But perhaps they would stay far away from any chicken-suited fellows in the future....just in case.

Aislinn - "Might come in handy though somewhere down the line." she says with such a straight face, it's unclear as to whether she's joking or not.

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Wicked House

Prompt for the 31st was: Wicked. Thanks to @thats-amnesty-babe and Morgan E Ashton for the help brainstorming.

Duck whacks his hands together, clearing the dust from them, before raising a hand in friendly farewell to the movers. He picks his way through the boxes, up the stairs, and to his bedroom. Opening the door sends a bolt of dark, fluffed-up fur into the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry fuzzball, but I couldn’t have you bein underfoot or runnin out the door.” He scratches the cat behind her ears, and her affronted glare gives way to forgiving purrs. 

He unpacks for awhile, finds a good luck note from Juno tucked in the winter coat she gave him (“I mean it, Duck, winter up there’s a hell of a lot colder than here in West Virginia”). Orders pizza, gets the kitchen table set up in time to eat it. Flips through his to-do list for the next few days as he does. 

ka-BOOM

Winnie yowls and runs from the room as Duck nearly falls out of his chair. 

“What the fuck?” He dashes outside, expecting to find an exploded car or downed powerline.

He finds nothing of the sort. None of his neighbors are even poking their heads out. There’s a smaller boom, from the house next to his (his is on the corner, so only has one neighbor). 

“Well, Woodbridge finally managed to offload one of these places, huh?”

He turns to find a rather prim looking woman walking a furious looking Pomeranian. 

“Beg pardon?”

“You’re the first person to buy any of the houses near that wicked place in years.”

Duck looks around again. Every house on the block, save for his own darkly painted victiorian and the brightly painted one next to it, has a sun-worn for sale sign in the yard. 

“What the fuck?”

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

“Oh, so you’re the guy who bought the house next to Indrid Colds place?” The man at the grocery store asks as he rings him up. Duck  was overjoyed to find a real mom and pop place near his house and Leo, the owner, has been chatting with him.

“So it seems.”

“Don’t let folks make you too jittery about it. Indrid’s an odd guy, but he don’t mean no harm.”

“What the hell does he do? All kinds of weird lights and noises and shit coming from that place.”

“Not a clue. Seems like you’re in a better position to find out than most of us.” He tilts his head towards the beer Duck is loading into a bag.

“Dunno, kinda like havin all my limbs. Not sure I’ll keep ‘em all if I go in there.”

Leo shrugs, “suit yourself.”

As Duck walks home with his groceries, he mulls over the suggestion; sure, the loud noises aren’t great, but they no worse and no more frequent than a loud party or a neighbor with barky dogs. 

He sets the bags down on his front step, fumbling to find which pocket he put his keys in. 

“Don’t move!”

He freezes, finds a tall man with silvery hair moving purposefully up his drive. He’s in a long, silk bathrobe and bunny slippers, bright red glasses perched on his nose. When he places his hands on Ducks shoulders and starts moving him back off the porch, Duck tenses, tries to pull away.

He can’t. The man is surprisingly strong for such a beanpole.

“Hey, pal, look-”

“No, you look.” He points a finger, and Duck squints for a beat before seeing it; a black widow, dangling on a thread as she lowers down from his door frame. 

“Shit, almost walked right into her.”

“Yes, you did. I thought you might prefer not to.”

Duck takes another look at the stranger, including the spot where his hand is still resting on Ducks arm. The other man follows the gaze, pulls his hand back apologetically. 

“Gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re Indrid Cold.”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me!”  Indrid smiles brightly, only to have the expression falter, “oh, ah, you’ve heard of me. I can’t say I blame people for trying to warn you away from me, given my reputation.” The last few words come out so soft and resigned, the kind of vulnerability that’s either a trap or the truth of someone who has gone a little too long without the benefit of the doubt.

“Reputation don’t matter half as much as your actions. Far as I’m concerned, the only thing I know you done for sure is save me from a nasty spider bite.” He smiles kindly, holds out his hand, “I’m-”

“-Duck Newton.” Indrid takes it, shaking it with an oddly wide smile. 

“Uh, right. Well, I’m gonna get rid of that widow, but if you wanted to come in for a beer or coffee or somethin I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“That sounds wonderful but, oh, oh dear, um, excuse me something’s just come up. Hope to see you again.” He dashes back down the path, down the sidewalk, and up the steps to his bright yellow door. 

“Huh.” Duck watches the door for a moment, then goes to get a broom. 

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

The diner smells like eggs, bacon, and butter when Duck steps in from the chill of the early September air. 

It’s quiet, but he settles on a spot at the counter all the same, in case they need the booths for bigger groups. 

“Good morning,” a cheerful, somewhat crunchy-granola looking blonde woman greets him, pad in hand “any coffee or tea this morning?” 

“Coffee, please.”

“You got it.” She spins, grabs the pot, and pours him a mug. Several of the flatops are where Duck can see them, being worked expertly by a man who must be well over six feet tall. Whatever he’s moving about on them smells incredible.

“Ready to order.”

“Whatever he’s cookin right there.”

“Hash it is.” She smiles again.

The cook nods, and as he sets to work he asks, “you just passing through?”

“Naw, moved here a few weeks ago, got a job in the national forest.”

“Right on.”

“Oh yeah.” A voice behind him says, and he finds two older men sizing him up, “you’re the fella who got duped into buying next to Cold’s place.”

“He’s a man, Clarence, not fucking black mold.” The cook grumbles.

“How’s living next to the wicked witch treating you?” The second man, in a red ball-cap, asks.

“Warlock.” Says a clipped voice. It takes Duck a moment to see it belongs to the man going over receipts at the register, slick dark hair flecked with grey and face movie-star handsome, “if Indrid did have those abilities you all seem convinced he does, he’d be a warlock, not a witch.”

“How would you know?” Red cap retorts.

“Ey, shut up Jim, you know the boy was in the CIA. Better not disrespect him.”

“FBI, not CIA

“All I’m saying is that wherever Cold goes, disaster follows. Not to mention the man’s a known f-”

“One more syllable and you’ve got a lifetime ban.” Barclay points the spatula towards the men.

In the midst of the standoff, the bell dings. 

And Indrid Cold walks into the diner.

 He’s bundled up like it’s snowing, walks up to the counter and pauses when he sees Duck. 

Duck pats the stool next to him, “Nice to see you again, neighbor.”

“Likewise.” Indrid gives that odd smile again and sits down, “Good morning Barclay, Joseph.” He nods first to the cook, then the man at the register, “Oh, and hello Dani. The usual, please.”

Dani grins, turns to one of the drink machines and comes back moments later with a cup of cocoa.

“I can’t handle how bitter coffee is, even with sugar.” Indrid says, two seconds before Duck is going to ask him why that drink.

“You’re braver than I am, that much sugar this early’d have me on the ceilin.”

Indrid smiles softly, “Lightweight.”

Duck barks out a laugh, making Indrid snicker as well. 

“Any plans for this weekend, Duck?” 

“Got some new model ships to work on, might go for a hike, nothin too excitin.”

“You don’t get enough hiking at work?” Indrid cocks his head.

“I mean, not really? It’s different when I’m on my own; I don’t got an agenda or shit I’m supposed to be takin care of. I can just go at my own pace.”

Indrid makes a noise of understanding right as Barclay sets two plates down. Indrids’ is piled with pancakes and strawberries. 

Barclay points a can of whipped cream down at the plate, “say when.”

The tower of cream is almost a foot high before Indrid goes, “when.”

As they eat, they chat about this and that, though mostly Indrid asks Duck about his move, and how he’s liking the town. Then he muses, “I’d like to go hiking sometime. I really ought to get out a bit more.”

“You can come with me sometime, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Sure, long as you don’t mind me talkin about trees.”

“Not in the slightest.”

Duck raises his glass in cheers, “well, if you decide you want to, you know where to find me.”

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

Duck balances the plate of cornbread (his fathers no-fail recipe)  in one hand as he lifts the other to knock on the door.

“Come in!” Indrid calls a half-second before his hands meets the wood. 

The inside of Indrid’s house is laid out much the same as Ducks own. This is where the similarities end. There are drawings scattered everywhere, pinned to walls and strewn across tables. Art and posters and letters cover the walls, each of which is painted a different color.

As he makes his way into the kitchen he notices chalk and bottles of salt, piles of old books, and many, many, many sweaters. 

Indrid is at the sink, filling a kettle with water. 

“You’re right on time, I was just making myself some tea. Though I can make something stronger if you prefer.”

“Tea’s fine.” Duck sets the plate down, “figured I oughta make a proper, neighborly introduction.”

He leaves out the part where, in the two days since they spoke at the diner, he’s thought about Indrid quite a bit. And that whenever an explosion or other odd occurrence came from next door, Ducks’ first response is no longer annoyance; it’s worry. What if something bad happened and Indrid had no one checking on him?

“I’ve been thinking” Indrid sets a mug down in front of him, sits across from him at the rickety table, “there’s a little get-together at the Lodge, that hotel on the edge of town, this weekend. If you were interested, we could hike out that way and then stop by after.”

“You know the folks there?”

“I do. Barclay and Joseph live in one of the cottages, Dani lives in the lodge proper, and they were kind enough to invite me to movie night once. I suppose I found my people, so to speak, there even if I still am a bit solitary.”

“Be happy to come, like to get to know more folks in town myself.” Duck glances back from examining some nearby drawings, and immediately knows he gave the right answer. Indrid is looking at him like he hung every star in the sky. 

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

Ducks’ gotten used to the occasional smoke detector cry from next door.

But this one isn’t stopping. 

He grabs the fire extinguisher from under his sink and bolts out one front door and into another. 

Smoke drifts down the stairs and Indrid is nowhere in sight. So up the stairs he goes, turning into the room where the smoke is the worst. Mercifully, there is no actual fire, just clear signs of one being hastily and messily put out. He opens the windows, and after a few minutes of cross-breeze the alarm shuts off. 

It’s only then that he hears a tap running and someone muttering. 

He crosses the hall, finds Indrid glaring into the mirror over the bathroom sink, trying to sooth a nasty looking burn on his arm. 

“Shit, what happened?” 

Indrid stares at the water, “just an accident. I was careless. I’ll be alright.”

“Here, lemme look at your arm-yeah, okay, I’m gonna go grab my first aid kit from my place.”  

He’s out and back as fast as he can manage, returns to find Indrid sitting on the toilet lid, sulking. 

Duck holds out his hand and Indrid flops his wrist into it. As gently as he can, Duck tends to the burn. It’s not bad enough to need a hospital, but it’s still a nasty looking mark.

“What were you tryin to do?” He asks softly.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me?”

“I have certain...abilities. Magic. Most of it related to seeing the future. But some of it is more general, or is in other fields of the discipline, and I was trying to use one field to influence a future and it backfired.”

Duck considers him a moment, then gently squeezes his hand, “hey, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. Don’t gotta make a story up on my behalf.”

“I’m not MAKING IT UP!” Indrid shouts, yanking his hand away and standing up.

“Indrid, you don’t expect me to believe-”

“ What? That I’m stuck seeing futures I can’t stop, stuck with powers I still can’t fully control, that I’ve made myself an outcast time and again all because of these blasted things.” He rips off his glasses and chucks them down the hall. Crumples to the floor, head in his hands.

Cautiously, Duck scooches across the hardwood. He wants to reach out, to soothe the tensed lines of Indrids’ body. But he’s not sure that’s what Indrid wants. Not sure if he’s royally fucked everything up.

“Okay, I’m listenin.” His voice, gentle as it is, may as well be coming through a megaphone for how Indrid flinches. Then he looks at his newly bandaged arm. 

“Ten years ago, I bought those glasses from a little curio shop. I thought they were stylish. I put them on when I got home and everything changed. Long story short, the glasses are a conduit to a demonish creature. When I put them on, he became my patron. I gained his ability to see the future, as well as some other powers. I panicked, tried to take the glasses back, but the store was simply gone. Turns out if I try to forsake his gift, it will go very badly for me, so I have to wear them all the time, save for sleep and things like that.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve been trying to use my powers to stop the disasters I see coming but so often it doesn’t work, and then I have to watch it play out in real time after seeing it again and again in my head.” He stands, slowly, and walks to retrieve the glasses, “or when I try to do enchantments, sometimes things go haywire. Did you happen to see the little succulent garden in the living room?”

“You mean the one that’s as big as your coffee table?”

“Yes. That was originally two succulents. I bought them as a housewarming gift for you then decided maybe four was better. So I tried to magic up two more. And got a garden instead.” He’s still as he speaks, glasses held in his palm, “It isn’t all bad. I have been able to stop some things, and I’ve gotten much better at magic. But the failures so often dwarf that.”

“Indrid?” Duck stands in the bathroom doorway, waits for his friend to turn around before continuing, “thank you for tellin me all that. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Indrid’s smile is weak, but genuine.

“Are there, uh, things that help when this happens? You seem real upset and if I can help you feel better, I’d like to.”

“T.V, the mindless kind.”

Duck holds out his hand, “C’mon, let’s go downstairs.”

Indrid settles on the violet couch, wrapping himself in a thick blanket as Duck flips channels. 

“You’re from West Virgina, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then you may be familiar with my patron. I don’t know his true name, but everyone just calls him mothman.”

Duck drops the remote.

“Mothman? As in Silver Bridge, Point Pleasant, TNT plant, and all that shit?”

“Yes.” Indrid says mildly. 

“Holy shit.” He fishes the remote from under the couch.

“That’s a remarkably succinct reaction.”

“Hush you, you know I ain’t a man of many words.”

“Duck, two days ago you talked for half an hour about Kudzu.” Indrid shoots him a teasing smile, and Duck elbows him lightly. 

“Oooh, a Halloween cooking championship! Let’s watch that.”

Duck sets the remote down, joins Indrid under the blanket when the taller man opens it for him.

“You doin anythin for Halloween?”

“No” Indrid sighs, “I love it, but after the ‘living pumpkin incident,’ parents stopped letting their children trick or treat here.”

“Hmmmmm” Duck rests his hand just beside Indrids’, strokes it absentmindedly with his pinkie “y’know, Indrid, I think I got a way to fix that…..”

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

Duck waves goodbye to the group of trick or treaters as they scurry back down the walkway. He has to hand it to Indrid: the man really has an eye for decoration.

The yard is strung with glowing cobwebs and purple lights, bats made of purple shadow and glitter flitting through the air.  The multitude of Jack’O Lanterns flicker in a rainbow of colors, thanks to Indrid doing an enchantment on the flames. 

Ducks house is equally festive, Indrid choosing orange lights and one (magically) large pumpkin to contrast with the dark wood of the building. Currently Aubrey (Dani’s wife) and her giant rabbit (Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD) are seated on Duck’s front step on candy duty. Duck had asked for his new friends help after realizing just how nervous Indrid was that something would go haywire, and decided it was best if he was there to keep him company.

It’s been a successful Halloween so far; no explosions, no disasters, no decorations accidentally coming to life. He and Indrid chat between visitors, The Creature from the Black Lagoon plays in the background, and both of them have eaten more candy than two grown men probably should. Not a single kid who’s come to the door seems afraid of Indrid. Some are curious, and some have parents that definitely watch them closely. But most are just happy to get candy.

Best of all, whenever they’re seated on the couch, or waiting to open the door, Indrid holds Ducks hand, or sighs happily when Duck rests his arm around his shoulder.

The groups are becoming less and less frequent, and stars peek out from behind the clouds, when Indrid turns to him.

“Thank you, Duck.”

“Hey, wasn’t gonna miss an excuse to hang out with you and poach your candy.”

Indrid chuckles, “Not just for that. For everything, for being kind, for getting to know me and not writing me off as wicked. I-” He falters, turns away suddenly.

Duck may not have foresight, but he’s perceptive all the same.

“Want me to finish that sentence for you?”

Indrid looks at him wide-eyed as the ranger steps into his space, “Please.”

“I wanna get to know you better.” Duck grins, moves to pull Indrid to him.

Indrid beats him to it, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Ducks back hits the door, Indrids fingers digging into his hair. He holds him tight, and as demanding as his kisses are the taller man’s whole body is shaking like the last leaf on a tree.

When they pull apart, Indrid rests their foreheads together.

“Yes, Duck, I would very much like to get to know you better.”

Duck kisses him again, keeps him close as he whispers, “well, happy fuckin halloween to me.”

Indrid kisses his cheek, “Indeed.”