#Brianna (Night Shift)

[sassenach77yle]

THREE NIGHTS LATER, I WOKE FROM a restless sleep in an inn in Wilmington, my throat parched as the salt bacon I had eaten in the dinner stew. Sitting up to find water, I found that I was alone—the moonlight through the window shone white on the vacant pillow beside me. I found Jamie outside, behind the inn, his nightshirt a pale blotch in the darkness of the innyard. He was sitting on the ground with his back against a chopping block, arms wrapped about his knees. He didn’t speak as I came toward him, but turned his head, body shifting in a silent welcome. I sat down on the chopping block behind him, and he leaned his head back against my thigh, with a long, deep sigh. “Couldn’t sleep?” I touched him gently, smoothing back the hair from his face. He slept with it unbound, and it fell thick and wild about his shoulders, tangled from bed. “Nay, I slept,” he said quietly. His eyes were open, looking up at the great gold moon, three-quarters full over the aspens near the inn.

“I had a dream.”

“A nightmare?” He had them seldom anymore, but they did come sometimes: the bloody memories of Culloden, of futile death and slaughter; prison dreams of hunger and confinement—and sometimes, very rarely, Jack Randall returned to him in sleep, with loving cruelty. Such dreams would always drive him from his bed to walk to and fro for hours, until exhaustion cleansed him of their visions. But he had not dreamed that way since Moore’s Creek Bridge.

“No,” he said, sounding half-surprised.

“Not at all. I dreamed of her—of our lassie—and the bairns.”

My heart gave an odd little hop, the consequence of startlement and what might almost have been envy. “You dreamed about Brianna and the children? What happened?” He smiled, face tranquil and abstracted in the moonlight, as though he still saw some part of the dream before him. “It is all right,” he said. “They are safe. I saw them in a town—it seemed like Inverness, but it was different, somehow. They walked up the step of a house—Roger Mac was with them,” he added, offhand. “They knocked at the door, and a wee brown-haired woman opened to them. She laughed wi’ joy to see them, and brought them in, and they went down a hallway, wi’ strange things like bowls hanging from the ceiling. “Then they were in a room, wi’ sofas and chairs, and the room had great windows all down one wall, from the floor to the ceiling, and the afternoon sun was streaming in, setting Brianna’s hair to fire, and makin’ wee Mandy cry when it got in her eyes.” “Did . . . did any of them call the brown-haired woman by name?” I asked, my heart beating in a queer, fast way. He frowned, moonlight making a cross of light over nose and brows. “Aye, they did,” he said. “I canna just—oh, aye; Roger Mac called her Fiona.” “Did he?” I said. My hands rested on his shoulder, and my mouth was a hundred times drier than it had been when I woke up. The night was chilly, but not enough to account for the temperature of my hands. I had told Jamie any amount of things about my own time over the years of our marriage. About trains and planes and automobiles and wars and indoor plumbing. But I was nearly sure that I had never told him what the study looked like in the manse where Roger had grown up with his adoptive father. The room with the window wall, made to accommodate the Reverend’s painting hobby. The manse with its long hallway, furnished with old-fashioned light fixtures, shaped like hanging bowls. And I knew I had never told him about the Reverend’s last housekeeper, a girl with dark, curly hair, called Fiona.

“Were they happy?” I asked at last, very quietly. “Aye.

Brianna and the lad—they had some shadows to their faces, but I could see they were glad nonetheless. They all sat down to eat—Brianna and her lad close together, leaning on each other—and wee Jem stuffed his face wi’ cakes and cream.” He smiled at the picture, teeth a brief gleam in the darkness.

“Oh—at the last, just before I woke . . . wee Jem was messin’ about, picking things up and putting them down as he does. There was a . . . thing . . on the table. I couldna say what it was; I’ve never seen the like.”

He held his hands about six inches apart, frowning at them. “It was maybe this wide, and just a bit longer—something like a box, maybe, only sort of . . . humped.” “Humped?” I said, puzzled as to what this could be. “Aye, and it had a thing on top like a wee club, only wi’ a knob to each end, and the club was tied to the box wi’ a sort of black cord, curled up on itself like a piggie’s tail. Jem saw it, and he reached out his hand, and said,

‘I want to talk to Grandda.’ And then I woke.”

He leaned his head back farther, so as to look up into my face. “Would ye ken what a thing like that might be, Sassenach? It was like nothing I’ve ever seen.

”The autumn wind came rustling down from the hill, dry leaves hurrying in its wake, quick and light as the footsteps of a ghost, and I felt the hair rise on nape and forearms. “Yes, I know,” I said. “I’ve told you about them, I know.” I didn’t think, though, that I had ever described one to him, in more than general terms. I cleared my throat.

“It’s called a telephone.”

121 ACROSS THE ABYSS~ A Breath of Snow and Ashes

[gotham-ruaidh]

now i lay me down to sleep - a 7x05 and 7x06 story

I had thought it would be easy to sleep in the tent that night – after a few uncomfortable days on the road, preceded by my brief yet searing stint back at Ticonderoga worrying for my patients and for Jamie, not to mention the stress we’d both felt before the fort was abandoned as our well-reasoned advice fell on deaf ears.

I’d mastered the art of sleeping in a tent, with the low noises of men camped all around me, during the war. My war, to be precise – on the blood-soaked fields of France. Too quickly I’d had to put that habit to use in the months we’d spent camping with Charles Stuart, and then again not too long ago, in those terrible days of the fruitless skirmishes with the Regulators.

So I’d thought that the murmured campfire conversations, and occasional snorting of horses, and all other manner of noises would lull me to sleep this night.

Yet I lay awake. Too tired to sleep.

Mind racing.

Walter’s last breath.

Ian looking at Rachel, as she helped Denny and I bandage a man who had discharged his musket into his foot.

The shape of William’s nose and chin.

Brianna smiling.

I sat up in the bedroll, and swung out my legs from under the blankets.

Jamie’s hand found the small of my back.

Peace.

“When Bree was small and she couldn’t sleep, sometimes she’d get frustrated. So I told her to rest her eyes instead.”

“Hmm. Did that work?”

“Well, it soothed her. I convinced her that laying still with her eyes closed was more restful than not doing so.”

I heard him sit up behind me. Felt his arms wrap around my middle, and his head settle into the curve of my shoulder.

“And if she didnae like what she saw when she closed her eyes?”

I found his hands and squeezed. “I would ask her to think about something she did like.”

He smiled into my neck. “Well then. I just need to keep looking at you, Sassenach. Cannae think of a better way to fall asleep.”

I flushed with pleasure, and turned to kiss him. It was hard to see in the dark, and we fumbled a bit, laughing, and he tasted of happiness.

We broke apart at a whoop from somewhere not too far from the tent.

“Christ,” Jamie whispered. “I’ll need to have a word wi’ Morgan in the morning. Cannae have the men making such a stramash. It will just cause confusion that the Mohawk or others are attacking, and we dinna need that just now.”

“I’m sure he’ll enjoy talking to you about it.”

He didn’t say anything, and let the moment stretch. Still we held each other’s hands, not fully awake, not willing yet to sleep.

“Do you see something you don’t like, when you close your eyes?”

It was always easy to talk in the dark – even with Jamie, who knew me better than anyone had or would.

“Ye ken weel about my nightmares. But before you ask more about it – no, they’re no’ back, or at least any more than they have always come and go.” His thumb traced my silver wedding ring. “I – only – hmm. I need to ask ye something, and as I turn it over in my mind it feels verra foolish to even say out loud.”

I smiled. “Surely you don’t think I’d laugh?”

“Ye have laughed, and ye will keep laughing at me, since the first day we wed, Sassenach. That’s no’ what I keep seeing.” He paused, and I knew there would be lines forming in his brow as he thought what to say.

I gave him as long as he needed.

“Do you think any less of me, Claire, that I couldnae save you myself?”

“What on earth?” My hand found his shoulder. “What’s this?”

I felt his eyes on me. “I came for you at Fort William wi’ nothing but an empty pistol. I found you after that time wi’ the crazy priest who married Fergus and Marsali. I found you in the forest after the Browns had taken you.”

“Yes,” I said patiently. “I remember.”

“So – at Ticonderoga I relied on Ian to find you. And when you were held prisoner by the governor, on that ship in Wilmington harbor – I relied on Tom Christie.”

“Yes.”

His words came all in a rush. “I couldnae save you those times, Claire. I had to ask other men to do it for me.”

My hand shifted to cup his cheek. “Because you were being pragmatic. You’re older than you were at Fort William. You have a lot more to lose.”

“If I lose you, Claire, I lose everything. Do you no’ ken that?”

“And if in so doing you lose yourself – where does that leave me? I’d rather have a dozen men help me get back to you, than you risking yourself to do it.”

He sighed. “I felt I betrayed my vow to you.”

“Nonsense. You kept it, by enlisting others to help me. Were they not happy to do it?”

“They were.”

“Then don’t tell me that’s beside the point. I’m here, with you, because you asked for help. That’s no small thing.”

A beat.

“And don’t you go doubting yourself. Not now. You need to have a steady mind. To shoot your rifle straight.”

He turned his head, and kissed my palm. “I’m daft.”

“You are. But you knew that already, and I knew that already.”

“And yet somehow, you still love me for it.”

“Despite it.”

I leaned in for a kiss. He drew us back down into the bedroll.

“Rest wi’ me, then, until the dawn. Maybe I’ll dream of the lass and her bairns.”

I settled closer against him. “I’ll dream of you and me, back on the Ridge, in a fine new house.”

He kissed my forehead.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Stitching Us Together

Chapter 2: The Puzzle

Summary: Following the previous night’s bizarre events, and the consequences it had brought, the group of four is back at it again, this time with one more puzzle piece than before.

Word Count: ~ 3.9k

Warnings: allusions to death, violence, military things, bri getting policed and parented, sassy teenagers, awful school food, nothing terrible

A/N: help I love writing for this story so much I wrote 2k words in my study block, I think I’m finally getting the hang of accents + writing for multiple characters at the same time, so now I’m just going to try and slowly flesh things out and make sub-conflicts, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

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Junior was just praying to whatever gods that would listen that his dad didn’t find out.

And that Bri wouldn’t snitch.

He’d already had enough talks of “responsibility” and showing a “good example” for Josie and some of his younger relatives, even if they were worse behaved than him, and he hadn’t done anything that bad at their age.

“That oatmeal done something to you?”

His father’s ruddy voice, raspy from his previous years of smoking, interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up, finding his father wearing a black beanie, beard combed out, but he could still see the bits of sleep clinging to the corners of his eyes. Junior’s bowl of oatmeal for breakfast lay in front of him, almost untouched, other than a few little cat bites he’d taken.

“No, just…tired.”

His dad raised a brow, knowing it wasn’t like his son to be so distracted. He must’ve known the anxiety he saw in his brown eyes, because he let out a breath, sitting down in an old wooden chair that creaked under his weight. The bus would be coming by soon.

He really should finish the oatmeal.

“Doesn’t have anything to do with what Brianna was doin’ last night, does it?”

He tried not to look too guilty. Brianna wouldn’t have snitched on the rest of them being out there, but she hadn’t gotten into contact with anyone since being taken home by the police. Hadn’t responded to any of their calls or anything. Hadn’t even read all of the texts Isla had sent.

“What’d she do?”

Keep your head down.

Don’t avert your eyes.

He tried not to focus on how his hands were sweating around the spoon he held, digging into the oatmeal and shoving a bite into his mouth just to keep from saying something stupid or outright admitting it, which was hard under his father’s piercingly blue stare.

Junior didn’t think a minute had ever been longer, when eventually his father let out a little humph, adjusting his beanie, when his mum walked in just in time to save him from whatever his dad had been about to say.

“Now what’s going on in here, boys?”

Her eyes went to him, a brow expectantly raised, expecting an answer.

“Nothin’, mum.”

The sound of a heavy vehicle sighing outside reached his ears, and he got up, scraping what was left of his oatmeal out into the trash, pulling his backpack over his shoulder.

“Bye.”

He mumbled, his father giving him a firm look when he glanced back, only for Junior to board the bus faster than ever before, sitting down on one of the blue leathery seats.

The school was right up the street, but his parents always insisted he take the bus, for whatever reason, as if he’d get mugged while walking a mile or two down the road. Bri and Isla took the bus too, while Charlotte was usually at her dad’s restaurant in the mornings, being driven by her dad when she was in his custody. Her mom had her take the bus when she was over at her house.

However, Brianna wasn’t here today, and only Isla was, right across from Junior to his left. She quickly noticed him, shifting over to the right to lean in and whisper to him.

“Have you heard from her?”

He shook his head, not missing the anxiety in Isa’s tone.

“It’ll be fine, maybe she just overslept, you don’t know.”

He suggested, at this point just trying to keep the girl’s nervousness down. It was pretty obvious, from the way her leg was bouncing.

“But we still don’t know who that person was, and if she’s walking to school, what if they’re waiting or something? And she hasn’t answered any texts either or called me back. I mean, I know she’s dry, but she always-“

“Isla.”

She must’ve realized she was rambling, because she slumped into her seat with a sigh, and Junior put a hand on her shoulder. He made her look like an ant, and he just now realized that.

“Her dad probably took her phone, and jumping to conclusions about last night isn’t going to help anyone. We can talk to her once we get to school. You have second and third block with her, right?”

“Yeah..”

“Exactly, and Charlie’s with you almost the entire day, so am I, we’ll manage.”

She breathed out a sigh as the bus stopped, wheels beginning to slow as the large, old vehicle also sighed as if to match her, the small doors on the side opening as everyone began filing out.

Predictable as ever, Charlie was standing with a hand on her hip by the entrance of the school, scanning through the crowd for them, finding the two of them, and cocking her head to the side in silent question.

He shook his head once.

She pursed her lips but didn’t question it further as the three of them grouped up.

“About time.”

She said, giving both Junior and Isla a look.

“For the millionth time, we can’t control when the bus gets to our houses and drops us off, Garrick.”

Isla said, shooting Charlie a venomous look, before walking off into the crowd. Charlotte raised a brow, glancing over at Junior who stood there like a big lumbering oaf, everyone having to move around him.

“Who pissed in her cereal?”

She mumbled, grabbing Jr by the arm and dragging him off to their first block. He chuckled lightly.

“Language, Garrick.”

He said, imitating the manner that Isa had said ‘Garrick’, before shaking his head and muscle memory kicking in as he began walking through the school without Charlie dragging him.

“She’s just worried about Bri. You know how they are.”

“Thick as thieves, I know.”

She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Jr shrugged, strolling into their classroom as he set his bag down by his seat, which happened to be right to the left of Charlotte’s seat.

She took her bags out in an organized pile from biggest to smallest, laying out her pencil and highlighters for the day, as well as a color-coded notebook with stickers neatly placed on it. Junior simply grabbed a notebook out of his bag, hoping it was the right one, and snatched a pencil from Charlie’s pencil pouch.

She gasped, trying to grab it back, but too slowly.

“Don’t you dare. That’s one of my nice mechanicals.”

“It’s a pencil.”

“Give. It. Back.”

He grinned, dangling the pencil in front of her between his fingers, and snatching it away right when she tried to grab it.

This happened about three times, before she huffed, and snapped.

“John Price Jr, give it to me.”

His full name being said made him drop the pencil he’d claimed from shock, and he grumbled about something under his breath while Charlie picked it up, placed it back into her pencil pouch, and fished out a normal orange wooden pencil before placing it down onto his desk with a light ‘clack’.

“Thanks.”

He said dryly, and she gave a snake’s smile.

“You're welcome.”

She replied a shade too sweetly.

The first bell rang, meaning everyone had to get to their class within five minutes, and Junior watched as Isla walked in, still sulking, and promptly sat down next to Charlie.

“Where were you?”

Jr asked, brows raised as he saw her pull out her things from her cluttered bag, and push them onto her desk, not bothering to organize it at all. Messy and uncoordinated, but somehow making sense for her. That was definitely Isla.

“Getting the stick out of her ass, hopefully.”

Charlie muttered, casting a look at her, and Isa shot her a glare in return.

“I was emptying my bladder, Johnny-boy.”

Isla responded, slowly fading out of her bad mood as Jr cringed at the nickname. Johnny-boy was not something he wanted to be called. Anything other than junior or ‘little johN’ that some of his relatives affectionately called him. It always made him a bit irritated, now was no different.

”That’s lovely.”

He said dryly, and the bell rang not a moment later their first block beginning. Junior tried not to worry himself, but he hadn’t seen Brianna yet, not through his glances to the halls, trying to catch her walking by, or through his frequent checks to his phone when the teacher wasn’t looking. No word of her.

That was until the second block.

He walked in, backpack over his shoulder, glancing around the hallways, entering his classroom. The teacher wasn’t there, probably in the bathroom or getting some water, and most of the students in this class were clustered in small groups, talking about god knows what. He recognized some of them from brief conversations, but others were from different grade levels and whatnot.

Someone he did recognize, though, was the human version of an angry, wet cat sulking, when he saw a familiar blond braid, walking over and finding none other than Brianna Riley in all her scowling glory.

”Where have you been? We’ve been trying to get ahold of you for-”

”This can wait until lunch.”

She said, and Jr sighed, walking back to his seat. This particular teacher had caught onto the little friend group quickly and promptly separated all of you for her peace of mind. He didn’t blame her, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed by it.

Fine.

It could wait until lunch.

~

After listening to her Spanish teacher drone on for nearly an hour, Charlotte decided that she wanted to never hear his somehow monotonous voice ever again in her life.

Something must’ve heard her mental prayers because her worries and thoughts were quickly interrupted by the bell ringing through the classroom. Girls started packing up, picking up their bags, while the boys shoved their things in their messy backpacks and began shoving people out of the way to get to lunch. Per usual.

She could put up with their overly strong colognes, their strong-smelling deodorant, and even the disgusting smells of sweat they would leave behind in classrooms or on the bus, but the thing she couldn’t stand was all the shoving and idiotic hyena laughing she heard in the hallways.

Slipping her notebook and pencil pouch neatly into her bag, she waited at the door of the classroom for when she could find a spot to slip through and leave, interweaving between the crowds and masses of people, the metallic clanging sound of the small lockers some chose to use filling the hallways.

She strode down the hallway, turning to the side so as not to bump into two girls standing around and blocking everyone for no reason, spraying their perfumes so many times that her nose burned when she smelled it and went to one of the side stairwells that led to the lunchroom.

The main stairwells were always clogged, so she’d learned to use the side ones in her freshman year after nearly being trampled.

It meant that she usually got there before everyone else, which she did today, getting in line and walking over to the table that the group of four usually took up, and sliding her lunchbox onto it. A perk of having a family that ran a restaurant was that she always got good lunch food, never having to eat whatever sloppy mess of barely-qualifiable food the cafeteria served for lunch.

The rest of her friends, however, were not so lucky.

Isla arrived first, waving from the lunch line, and going through it before sitting down and watching Charlotte unpack her daily sandwich with nothing short of pure jealousy.

Bri was next, Isa noticing her in the line, per usual (She always had an uncanny ability to spot people in crowds, probably because of her obsession with the Where’s Waldo games) and pointing her out. Junior was right behind her, the both of them arriving at the table at relatively the same time.

Had today been an A-Day and not a B-Day, they would’ve had nearly identical schedules, and been here at the same time. But it wasn’t.

”You wanna explain why ya haven’t been answering none o’ us?”

Isa asked, the frustration in her tone obvious despite the food shoved into her mouth. Charlie cringed at it. Junior’s big, brown eyes didn’t hide his worry at all, but he remained silent for now.

”’M dad took my phone and the walkie, said I’m on house arrest for a month.”

They let out a collective breath at that, and most definitely not in relief. Junior and Charlotte opened their mouths to speak at the same time, before catching each other’s eyes, and Jr gesturing for her to go first.

”What did the police do, I mean, do you have a fine or anything?”

She questioned, and Bri’s scowl deepened.

”Detention for a week straight, is all.”

Charlie heard Isla mumbling, and doing what she assumed to be cursing under her breath, but her accent was so thick when she was worked up that she could hardly even decipher it.

”I’m assuming that means you won’t be coming by for a while?”

She asked with a raised brow, feigning sarcasm despite the worry that tugged at her. They all usually met up after school at her grandparent’s restaurant, then Bri would walk them all home, other than Charlie, since she stayed with her dad until he was done working. Some nights she would take the bus to her mom’s house, though, sometimes only on weekends, sometimes only on weekdays. It depended on how the custody was worked out every month.

But the fact of the matter was, it would be strange not having her there for a week.

”Not for a month. That’s par’ of the house arrest, can’t go out at all.”

Even stranger not to have her there for a month.

”I know your dad can be strict, but a month? Seems a bit overkill.”

Junior said, shaking his head lightly, before taking a spoonful of cafeteria tray beans into his mouth. Isla remained oddly silent, but eventually spoke, her hand going to dig into her backpack.

”Well, on the bright side, look wha’ I brought.”

She said, pulling out the manila file folder that Isla had told both Charlie and Junior about last night, after the entire arrest. Charlotte didn’t remember every detail from her Scottish friend’s rambling but knew the gist of it. At least she hoped.

A deep sigh from Bri.

”Let’s see if it was worth it,”

She said, and Isla opened the file up, placing her open backpack on the table to hide the folder from anyone in view. After what had happened last night, she didn’t know who to trust anymore. Who could’ve been in that office with the folder, who could’ve led them out to the school and called the police?

”I was lookin’ through it last night, and it’s weird, just our dad’s name’s with little nicknames in the middle. Sort o’ like a dog tag.”

She said, opening it up, and surely enough there were different things on each page. The key part of it was the names listed on one of the pages, as well as other things that had been crossed through with a thick black marker, covered up. Charlie could’ve sworn she could still smell the Sharpie ink from it. Twisting the page to a proper angle for her to see, she took a good, long look at the page.

Cap. John Price

Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley

Sarg. Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Sarg. Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Everything else was either redacted or blotted out. All of them paused for a moment before Bri spoke.

”Your dad’s first name is actually Johnny?”

Isla looked confused for a moment, before taking one look at Brianna’s slightly judgmental and flabbergasted expression, and busted out laughing.

The tension in the air deflated quickly, as Jr joined in, and Charlie let out a few giggles herself. Brianna still looked quite confused by the time they were done, glaring at the piece of paper like it was the root of all evil.

”No, seriously, I thought it was John, and Johnny was just a nickname. You’re telling me that…”

She muttered, before sighing and shaking her head as if to shake off whatever had possessed her for a moment.

”Never mind.”

Jr picked up on the blonde’s subtle cues of embarrassment, and allowing himself a final little chuckle, he then refocused on the file at hand.

”Back on task, guys.”

”Right,”

Isla said, glancing back down at the piece of paper, skimming over it again, and lifting it to one of the buzzing cafeteria lights as if to try and see through the ink covering more than half of the words.

”So, what does this even mean?”

Isa asked, and Charlie took the paper from her hands, putting it back on the gray table.

”It means our dads have been keeping secrets from us.”

Brianna’s eyes narrowed, glancing at the paper again, then at the rest of them, eyes drifting over each of them quickly.

”Why go through all that effort? Never met a vet’ tha’ hides their background, unless they were on tha’ wrong side of a war.”

Junior and Charlie’s eyes met, briefly remembering the conversation they’d had in that alley before. It was risky to reveal it now, especially when Isla could hardly keep a secret from any of her family, but she felt odd hiding it.

“They were Special Forces,”

She said in a hushed tone, leaning in, her eyes glancing around for any eavesdroppers. Both Bri and Isa looked mildly surprised, Bri more angrily confused than anything.

“Wha’s that?”

Isla asked with a furrowed brow, and Charlie answered back.

“Dealin’ with terrorists, missing bombs, all that deal.”

“How do you know wha’ they were?”

Bri asked with narrowed eyes, all the while Jr silently watched, keeping his mouth conveniently full of food so he couldn’t be questioned like Charlotte.

“I..went through my dad’s computer a while back, got into some old locked files. There wasn’t a lot that wasn’t redacted, but it gave some of their mission reports.”

Bri and Isa shared a glance, the scot of the group’s nostrils flaring.

“And ya dinnae think te tell any o’ us, nay?”

Per usual, her accent got thicker the more worked up she was, leading to some mostly non-legible sentences that took Charlotte a few minutes to even mentally translate.

“I thought it would be better to let them come to us about it first, and I don’t want my dad to know I snooped through his computer and broke into some of his files.”

“Righ’, because the Garrick family name can’t be tarnished, can it?”

Bri said in a rough tone, Isa opened her mouth again, but one of the blonde’s hands lying on her arm that was on the table stopped her, making her settle down. Looking upset, rightfully so Charlie would admit, Isla then turned her attention to Jr.

“An’ what about you? You’re not mad?”

She questioned as if the obvious answer was yes. Charlotte knew the obvious answer was yes, she’d kept something important from them, even if only trying to keep things good, and if they’d known beforehand then things could’ve been different.

Junior looked like a deer in headlights.

He swallowed a spoonful of beans, glancing between the pair at one end of the table, and back at Charlie on his side, clearly weighing his options here.

“I think it was wrong to keep it from us,”

Isla opened her mouth to speak again, her fiery temper stoked higher, but Jr cut her off before she had the chance.

“But, I think she had the right intentions, and the only thing we can do is move forward.”

He finished. A sigh of relief from Charlotte, one of probable resignation from Isla, and a final sigh of reluctant agreement from Brianna.

“He’s right. Whoever set us up last night, they knew this,”

One of her fingers went to tap against the names on the file.

“And for wha’ever reason, they wanted us, or at least Isa, to know it too.”

Junior nodded, the gears in his head coming back to life, working out a plan, a solution to a problem.

“Do you think it’s possible they only meant for Isla to follow? I don’t see how they could’ve known she would walkie all of us.”

He suggested, his forearm now propped against the table, the back of his hand holding his chin up, utensils now discarded on the lunch tray that he’d forgotten about by now.

“Unless they’ve been watching for a while.”

Charlie suggested, and a collective shiver went through the group at that. The thought of someone watching them, stalking them for days, weeks, even months on end was nothing short of terrifying.

“I’m wonderin’ if our shadow-man called the cops, or someone outside all o’ this did.”

Isa said, stabbing at her food with renewed vigor, Bru nodding as if to support her point.

“Who would be up that late other than someone purposefully watching, anyway?”

Charlie asked, and Jr shrugged.

“Some people go out for a midnight cig, or stay up late watchin’ the game, you never know. We can’t just write off any civilians because we’re suspicious and paranoid.”

Jr offered to the conversation, another nod from everyone involved. Bri glanced over at Isa, then at Charlie.

“You said they were special forces?”

She asked, and Charlie nodded. A slight pause.

“Any other details you remember from those files?”

Charlie wracked her brain, thinking if anything she remembered from the lines of text she’d gotten out of breaking into her father’s locked computer files. It had been gibberish, mostly, just military lingo that she didn’t understand and a lot of numbers.

“Not really. Numbers, a few maps near Western Asia, military lingo. Nothing I understood.”

She said, and Bri nodded.

“Why? What’re you thinkin’?”

Jr then asked, and Isla watched carefully.

“You’re saying our dads killed terrorists and I’m assumin’ a whole lotta other crazy shit, so even if they’re retired, doesn’t mean any of their relatives are safe. Anyone lookin’ for some payback…”

Her voice trailed off at that, shaking her head. Junior’s first thoughts were of his little sister and mother, and the countless nieces and nephews he had, Charlotte’s mind going to her grandparents and family, and Isla’s mind shooting to her giant Scottish family.

“They wouldn’t. I’m sure you’re just overthinking’ it.”

Isa said, swallowing thickly. A shadow passed over Bri’s eyes as she spoke next, her eyes focusing on the paper, on her father’s name, more on the thick letters before her father’s name.

‘Lt.’

“You ever met my uncle, nephew, or my grandparents?”

She asked, and they exchanged glances before Junior dared to speak.

“No, I’ve…never heard of them before.”

Charlotte watched Bri’s knuckles go near white with her death grip around the cafeteria fork she held which looked all too close to snapping.

“Exactly.”

Tags:

@valscodblog

@seconds-over-first

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

"What's that sound behind the thick door"

Anyway, another crappy SVE one-shot, but this time I'm back to Lance x My OC Farmer because I haven't written anything about Julian in a while. So, yeah...

⚠️ Warning: light NSFW, swearing

_________________________________________

The full moon reflected silver on the surface of the sea water, creating a beautiful path that Drake was eager to walk along. The young First Slash Clan member had used up almost all of his mana today to learn how to stand on the water surface without getting wet, but it wasn't enough for him. He's finally figured out how to read the spell correctly, and so he wants to practice more and more until his leg muscles ache from the flow of mana circulating through his veins. But fainting from fatigue is not an option, as his and Brianna's patrolling the Fable Reef today.

So Drake stood on the sandy shore for another minute, enjoying the coolness of the summer night and the seascape, and then headed towards the Guild entrance.

He didn't have to look for his partner for long, as the grumbling of the violet-haired girl could be heard throughout the hall.

"Agh! Fucking hell, stupid- if I'd known this torpedo trout was going to be so stinky - I wouldn't have never touched this damn thing. Yuck! All the soap, and it's still not enough..."

To be honest, the strong smell of fish is quite usual for all members of the First Slash, as most of their diet is fish and seafood, and all thanks to the Gem Ocean, which is rich in marine fauna. However, because of the torpedo trout, created by "dumbass cowards wizards from Gotoro" (Brianna's words), not only ships and boats of the Ferngill Republic's inhabitants became endangered, but also local fish, some species of which were on the verge of extinction.

A member of another Guild, a good friend of Lance's, and the topic of discussion of almost the entire community of adventurers and mages, came to the rescue of the First Slash with fish - Julian needed only a week, a trusty rod and good bait to catch almost the entire shoal of this cursed trout that terrorised the ocean. And since this magical fish, when studied, remained an ordinary fish and, most importantly, safe to eat, the issue of the First Slash clan's expiring provisions was solved as well.

Only the smell from the fish was unbearable - even for regular fish - to the point where cutting and further study had to be moved to fresh air. Brianna, unfortunately, was a "victim" of that odour.

"It's not so bad, and you don't smell like a cut durian anymore." At Drake's not-too-successful attempt to cheer up her partner and lover, Brianna threw a 'stinky' glance in his direction.

'We'll see how you talk when we're both in the same bed after work. Friendly reminder: there are no windows in our room." Still, the girl's stern look softened as she looked at Drake's sympathetic face. "Okay, we'll be patrolling the shore soon. Jolyne and the others have probably gone to bed by now." Brianna's gaze travelled from Drake's face to the wooden door to the guest room that was behind him.

"And that guy with blue and green eyes... Does he sleep here too?"

"Hmm?" Drake turned back around, shifting his gaze to the door as well. "I don't remember Julian leaving the Guild. Though... I haven't seen him in like two hours either. Can't say for sure" He hesitated.

"Shall we check the guest room?" Briana suggested.

"Why? Maybe he's in there, and asleep already. Don't wanna bothering him."

"Him, or them?"

"Them?" Drake asked.

"With Lance."

Sigh, this again...

During the whole time Julian had been at Fable Reef, Brianna had noted to herself that Lance had begun to behave unusually in his presence. Everyone couldn't tell at first glance, but she was not dumb. The look that their second-in-command and that blonde weirdo gave each other... It was the same look she had given Drake when their feelings for each other had just begun to blossom.

That's when the rumours of their secret affair started. Edmund quickly joined in to listen to his friend's gossip, because life on the island was getting a little boring. Gale pretended not to be interested, but still listened to what the others were discussing. All the guild members decided not to let their commander Jolyne in on the details, or else she would have kicked everyone's ass for slacking off on patrol.

"What makes you think there's anything between these two?" Drake still didn't believe Brianna and her 'connected dots theory."

"Because," she said, "I was keeping watch, not exhausting myself in salt water trying to master a spell."

" Wha- Hey, I was practising, you know! While you sneaking around and-"

"AH!~"

A muffled moan could be heard behind the thick wooden door of the guest room. The couple of blue cloaked adventurers instantly fell silent, exchanging surprised looks.

"Well, this farmer is definitely here...."

On tiptoe, Brianna and Drake moved closer to the door, trying to hear anything else. For half a minute there was complete silence, broken only by the sound of the sea from the window and the unpleasant buzzing of gnats near the hall lamps. Both of them were about to think that they had imagined it, when suddenly they heard the same muffled but more clear words:

"Gentle, La -ah! Lance... hah..."

Although the building itself was old, the soundproofing in the rooms was still great. So it had to be really loud to hear this

"Wow, they're definitely fucking." Violent-haired girl conclusion was final.

"Brianna..."

"Edmund owed me a bottle."

"I never thought... Well, I mean, Lance is within his rights to date whoever he wants, I just didn't expect that farmer to... Wait," Drake stopped, "what bottle?"

"Edmund said he didn't believe Lance and this Julian guy were in a secret relationship at all. We bet on a bottle of 'Bluemoon' wine from Stardew Valley. I won," She smiled victoriously at her partner.

"Why am I not surprised..." he signed. "Can we move away from the door, please? I feel uncomfortable, like we're intruding...."

"Aren't you curious?"

"No! Brianna, c'mon!"

She put her hands up. "All right, all right, let's go already," the girl looked into Drake's dark blue eyes again and prodded him. "And after work.... we can open a bottle, light some candles~"

"Heh, you think the smell of candles will block out your fish stench?" This time Drake got a little poke in the side with Brianna's elbow.

"You asshole...." But there was no irritation in the girl's voice. She spoke again, "Hopefully this wine will be good, because the last bottle from Edmund was so terrible..."

""Last bottle?", huh."

Jolyne's commanding voice immediately made the young adventurers stand up in a string.

"It's already midnight, why aren't you two on patrol?" The Guild Head crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow questioningly, humbling her subordinates with a single glance.

"Uh- uh... O- on our way, ma'am." A startled Drake quickly saluted Jolyne, and grabbing Brianna by the sleeve, pulled her towards the hallway exit. Jolyne gave them a glance, stood by that very door for half a minute, listening to the silence, before sighing tiredly and shaking her head, heading for her room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ouch! Love, can you- ow! Can you please be careful..." For a Stardew Valley hero and stoic adventurer, Julian had been whimpering for about half an hour now from the simple massage his partner Lance had graciously provided.

"You should have been more careful earlier, my soul." The pink-haired man pressed Julian's bare back with precise finger movements, forcing the muscles to relax. "Didn't I tell you about the importance of exercising periodically and not sitting in one position for long?"

"The torpedo trout nibble was insane, you saw the bubbles over the water yourself!" Lance wouldn't argue here: his lover had indeed had a very successful and exciting fishing trip. So exciting, in fact, that the blond-haired young man had sat on the sandy shore today with a fishing rod for almost seven hours straight. In one position.

Lance started rubbing Julian's back again. "Still, stretch your body more often, okay? Because if this pain caught you in a fight, it could end badly." Under Lance's hands, Julian almost melted like butter on a hot day. And how his partner knew which points to press.

"Mhm, m'kay. Thanks, love."

"You're welcome, Julian," he paused for a second. "How are you feeling?"

"Never feel better." mumbled Julian sleepily, to the chuckle of his pink-haired lover.

"I think we're done here. Come on, we should get ready for bed. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for the two of us."

[expirisims]

That's One Tasty Sandwich

It's a bright and beautiful Summer morn!

Heeeyy! Kyle has been making use of the planters I placed in his new house! He'll need that to progress in his science career, at least for the next few years. I have some major changes both for some of my sims and for the whole town in general! Those will be coming down the pipeline next round!

Looks like Andrae is off of work again. I'm guessing it's the weekend. [it's been a really long time since I actually played this week, I'm about an entire sim year ahead as I write this :) ]

That face! Bahahaha! That must be one stinky diaper!

Daniella is off to the Family Center! Gosh that takes me back to my own childhood. We were feral, LOL! We spent literally the entire day on our bikes!

So poor Andrae, finally got dressed and headed out to get a little alone time. He must be exhausted!

Looks like Brianna is too engrossed in her chess game to notice.

Precious is making lunch; hmm...will this compel any sims to come home?

Yep! Right on cue!

Everyone began to wind down early. Andrae just went straight to bed again, Precious settled down with a good book, and Daniella went back to her painting!

Aww...She's dreaming about home!

And Andrae is up for his child care shift! Boy, I bet these sims wish there was such a thing as sleep training in the game!

And we end the night with some town notifications! Hmmm...I'm not much for renaming babies born in game, I like to imagine my sims went through names while pregnant and chose on their own what to name their kids, but I just HAVE to change that baby's name to Frank...

[toad-games]

of regrets and rainy nights

“Do you like Theo?” He’s used to Hani’s impossible questions by now. She’s overflowing with them, and he’s learned by now how to drift on that unending tide. How to admit that he doesn’t know everything, far from it. But, this question isn’t difficult to answer. And that realization alone scares the shit out of him. “Yes, I do. I like her very much.”

Or, Hani’s very inquisitive nature comes in clutch to a shy dad trying to get to know someone a bit better. I cannot get Farro out of my head, so I needed to finish this before my brain combusted.

Farro x F!MC (Theo) 1,500 words. Farro is from @barbwritesstuff‘s amazing game Blood Moon go play it I am no longer asking

Read it on AO3 here

Hani is silent as he carries her up the creaking stairs. Ordinarily, she wouldn't have tolerated being held like this, not for this long, but she still has her arms locked tight around his neck, her face buried in his still aching shoulder. He shifts her in his arms, freeing one hand to brush some of her wild curls out of his face. She still smells like maple syrup. 

“Why is Alpha mad at Theo?”

Her voice is so quiet, nearly drowned out by the drumming rain and the groaning of the old stairs. He might not have known she’d spoken at all if it weren’t for her warm breath against his neck.

“I don’t think Alpha is angry,” he murmurs, “I think they’re worried.”

“Did…did Theo do something bad?”

They reach their room and Farro carefully sets her down. Hani looks somehow both younger and very grown up in the dim light of the hall. Her rain jacket is too big on her, hanging almost to her knees, the sleeves rolled back three times to keep her hands free. She’s looking up at him, her enormous brown eyes unusually serious. He kneels down so that she doesn’t have to crane her head back. Downstairs, the pack still murmurs to one another, their discontent practically a physical presence in the pub. It’s echoed by the moon’s distant call to action. Call to hunt. The lack of howling is almost deafening. 

“I don’t know,” he says, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “I don’t think so, but,” he draws his hand down his face, scratches at his beard with a sigh.  He’s having a difficult time cataloging the strange series of events that lead him to this moment himself. He can’t imagine what this all must look like to her. Bright, inquisitive Hani, who has a million questions on a perfectly average day.

“I don’t think Theo did anything wrong,” she whispers, “I think she’s nice. I don’t think she would do something mean, or try to trick us.”

Farro’s heart twists, and he tries to smile. He doesn’t feel particularly successful at it.

“I hope you’re right, pumpkin.”

“Do you like Theo?”

“I--” he hesitates, his hands still resting on her tiny shoulders. She’s staring up at him, eyebrows raised and he sighs again, getting to his feet, “it’s late, Hani, very late.”

“Do you?”

He looks back down at her, bracing his hands on his hips.

He’s used to Hani’s impossible questions by now. She’s overflowing with them, and he’s learned by now how to drift on that unending tide. How to admit that he doesn’t know everything, far from it. But, this question isn’t difficult to answer. And that realization alone scares the shit out of him. 

“Yes, I do. I like her very much.”

For the first time since they’ve returned to the pub, Hani smiles, dimples flashing in her cheeks. She looks so much like Brianna when she smiles. He reaches out, pinches her cheek gently, smiling when she bats his hand away.

“Will you tell Alpha that Theo is nice,” she says, holding his hand away from her face. Her fingers are completely dwarfed by his own, “so that they won’t worry anymore?”

“I will, pumpkin. Now, it’s time for bed.”

The room Phill had given them is quiet, tucked away at the back of the pub. The view isn’t much, it looks out into the alleyway behind the pub, but it is quiet and surprisingly cozy, with the rain tapping against the window, the light from the street lamp muted by the heavy curtains. Hani had fallen asleep almost the second her head hit the pillow. Farro watches her, curled up beside him as he sits up against the headboard. Her auburn hair a halo around her still face. He flicks off the lamp, lays down, careful not to shift the bed too much. Roe had texted him, informing him that Kiki and Omar were on watch, that a few other wolves were prowling the streets as well. He and Hani can rest now. Nothing will be approaching the pub without the pack’s knowledge. Fatigue drags at him, but he can’t sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, Theo’s pale, stricken face stares back at him.

 He should have said something. Should have spoken up. But what was he supposed to say? Tell his alpha she was innocent? That whatever was going on here, if her pack was involved or not, Theo wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him or Hani. What evidence did he have of that? A stirring in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years? Was his alpha supposed to risk their entire pack on the claim that she was a good person, based purely on the fact that Theo was kind to his daughter?

He scrubs at his tired eyes, rolling over on his side. Sleep seems unlikely tonight. He thought Theo would have kept him awake for a very different reason. That he’d be too busy kicking himself for not asking for her number. That the image he couldn’t rid from his head was of her smiling up at him as she shook his hand. Of her unseasonably short sundress. Not her staring up at him, eyes wide and pleading as his packmates claws dug into her arms. 

He sits up, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes until stars sparkle behind his lids. He should have fucking said something. Should have told the Alpha that she’d been just as surprised as he’d been, that she’d be the one bearing the scar from a silver blade if he hadn’t pushed her. His head falls back against the headboard with a dull thunk. The rain is picking up, sounding almost like small pebbles striking the window pane. He reaches for his phone. Maybe he could call Roe, or at least text them, give them a better idea of what happened. His phone is on top of Hani's notebook, perfectly framed by the thin strip of light falling in through the window. He picks it up, then looks down at the notepad beneath it. Small, spiral bound, covered with so many stickers he can’t tell what color the original cover is anymore. Many pages are dogeared, and there are colorful tabs sticking out on several of the warped pages. He glances down at Hani's sleeping form. She’s allowed him to read through a few entries before, under her watchful eye, but there’s only one that’s of any interest to him tonight. The notebook somehow feels fuller than when he’d originally bought it for her. So much of Hani is imbued in these pages that she’s added a tangible weight to it. He turns to the last page.

 Interview with Theodora (Theo) Jackson. March 2nd 2019 8:38 P.M.

 It takes some time to decipher her scrawling script, especially in the dim light and with his tired, itchy eyes, but he pushes through. He reads about how Theo hates artificial cherry flavor, but loves fresh cherries. About how if she could go anywhere in the world, she’d go to the lake where her mother taught her to swim. He reads until a headache begins to build behind his eyes, and he reads some more. He combs through pages of his daughter’s childish handwriting, scouring for every piece of Theo he can find, collecting fragments and scraps until he can assemble something that resembles a person. Resembles the woman who sat next to him in a sticky vinyl booth, hiding her amusement behind her napkin, but catching his eye over Hani's head. Smiling at him like the two of them were already in on some private joke. 

It isn’t much. Mostly superficial things, like favorite foods (lemon pound cake), favorite color (yellow to look at, green to wear) but there are a few lines that he lingers on. That she loves the smell of warm grass. That she loves Carly Simon and Joni Mitchell, because her mother loved them. A few disjointed sentences about a clearing in a dense, old forest. A place to finally settle. Somewhere to call home. A fire that burned hot and fast, and the long, lonely year that followed. 

He hadn’t been able to catch everything she’d said during the interview. The pub had been loud, and Theo was angled away from him, her attention entirely on Hani, but he’d heard the way she had adopted almost a drawl when she talked about her old pack. When she talked about her mother. He’d watched the way her shoulders had grown tense, but she still smiled at Hani, her voice honeyed and soft. 

Do you miss your old pack?

All the time

He closes the notebook, sets it back in the exact position he found it. There’s more, a dozen questions more but his head is swimming, the ache in his temples building to a steady throb. He closes his eyes. Remembers the way Theo’s anguish had settled into numbness with practiced ease as her packmate’s tinny voice echoed from her phone,

“He’s dead… our alpha is dead.”

Hani rolls over with a muffled groan, nuzzling her face into his shoulder. He curls an arm around her, drawing her in and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Tomorrow, he’ll talk to Roe. Tomorrow, he’ll try to make it right.

[apocalypseships]

🪵 Welcome 🪵

🌲<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>🌲

⛔️DNI ⛔️

Proshippers, racists, homophobic, anti-selfship, basically, go away if you’re a mean person.

Any type of Proshipper will be blocked. Please let me know if I reblog anything with this as I tend to go on reblog sprees and forget to check!

🏳️‍🌈 This blog is a safe space and a positive space for everyone so if you aren’t going to be nice then goodbye! 🏳️‍🌈

🌲<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>🌲

Hello! Welcome to my tiny internet corner where I obsess over the most obscure, random and weird f/o’s that anyone could possibly have. My name is Clementine or Clem, I use she/her and they/them pronouns and am part of the LGBTQ+. I use self shipping as a coping mechanism for my autism, mental health and other life problems.

🪻F/O list can be discovered under the cat that you may take with you in your own self shipping journey 🪻

🌲<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>🌲

🪵 F/O List 🪵

⭐️ - Current F/O/Uncomfortable With Sharing ATM

☀️ Romantic ☀️

Mackenzie Boyd - Emmerdale ⭐️

Sylus - Love And Deepspace ⭐️

Viktor Vektor - Cyberpunk 2077 ⭐️

Steve McGarrett - Hawaii Five-O

Danny Williams - Hawaii Five-O

Will Preston - Peak Practice

Henry - Firewatch

TC Callahan - The Night Shift

Griffin Munro - General Hospital

Harrison Chase - General Hospital

Zayne - Love And Deepspace

Matt Murdock - Daredevil

William Murdoch - Murdoch Mysteries

⛅️ Family 🌥️

Iggy Frome - New Amsterdam ⭐️

Lofty Chiltern - Holby City/Casualty ⭐️

Julia - Firewatch

Hamilton Finn - General Hospital

Drew Alister - The Night Shift

Brianna Holt - The Night Shift

Rick Lincoln - The Night Shft

Matt Casey - Chicago Fire

Sylvia Brett - Chicago Fire

Emily Grace - Murdoch Mysteries

☁️ Platonic ☁️

Krista Bell-Hart - The Night Shift

Kenny - The Night Shift

Gwen Gaskin - The Night Shift

Julia Ogden - Murdoch Mysteries

George Crabtree - Murdoch Mysteries

Thomas Brackenreid - Murdoch Mysteries

Karen Page - Daredevil

Claire Temple - Daredevil

Foggy Nelson - Daredevil

Jack Kerruish - Peak Practice

Beth Glover - Peak Practice

Delilah - Firewatch

❄️ Subject To Change…a lot ❄️

🌲<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>🌲

Thank you for taking your time to read and have a fantastic day whoever you are and whatever you are doing!

[blackroseguzzi]

Jesus, Etc Part 2

Summery: After a full days events leave her curious for details-Norie stumbles upon someone she wasn't expecting in Mare’s office.

You stood behind the two way glass, watching Sheehan and Zabel interrogate Brianna Del Rasso. The Rasso’s resturant was the nicest place in town. You had a feeling that Mare had ruffled some feathers during the arrest of the teen. She was still wearing her black restaurant attire and Detective Zabel looked as though he had already been on quite the wild ride with Mare thus far today. 

You took a sip of your coffee and crossed your arms. Mare didn’t listen to Rasso as she demanded a lawyer. You saw Zabel’s eyes shift towards the glass a few times, wondering why you was letting Mare continue the interrogation when that was not standard protocol. Mare did her own thing, she would have been rightfully pissed if you had intervined. You knew County played by all the rules, but sometimes you bent them here in Easttown. You would let him sweat a little bit, getting used to Mare’s way of doing things. She was the boss of this case after all.

You were impressed at how well Zabel handled the situation. He went from polite to pretty stern quickly as Brianna grew more impatient and angry.

“You’re such a bitch you know that? No wonder your son fucking killed himself.” Brianna leaned over the table with fire in her eyes. Irate at Mare’s behavior and her aggressive interrogation. Your blood ran cold, and you could tell Mare’s had too. Zabel shot Mare a look, trying to read her emotions. Damn, he had one hell of a first day on the job. He looked sympathetic, but you noticed quickly that he always kind of looked that way. He reminded you of a golden retriever. Loyal, practical, and ridiculously adorable. That last part you tried very hard to shove aside while watching him work alongside Mare. 

He put his arms up, a little unsure of what to do. You decided it was time to wrap things up- quickly. 

You opened the interrogation room, shouting for one of the officers to come process Ms. Rasso. Zabel looked at you with relief filling his face and Mare continued to stare at Brianna who was being taken out of the room. You watched Zabel walk back into the station, mumbling something about getting a drink before returning back to Mare’s office which they were currently sharing. You made a mental note to get him a desk before Mare exploded. She was always keen on her space being...her space.

You didn’t know if you should talk to Mare at all, but before you could make up your mind she told you she had to make a phone call and quickly rushed out of the room. You sighed heavily, returning back to work while awaiting the processing report and mentally preparing for the Rasso family to come through those doors in about a half hour. 

It was 7 pm by the time you made it back to your desk. You threw the stack of paperwork down and took a seat. You rubbed your eyes, wondering how it was only Tuesday. You watched as the rain spat against the glass outside and you sighed heavily. 

You eyes shifted over towards Mare’s office, surprised that the light was on. You decided to go see how her first day with Zabel had been, plus you needed a distraction from all the craziness of the day before you went home for the night.

“Mare?” You knocked on the door, not wanting to disturb her, but instead you heard Detective Zabel letting you know you could come right in.

He sat in a chair, hunched over a case file. He didn’t dare sit at Mare’s desk, and you found that rather sweet and thoughtful of him.

 Such a golden retriever. 

“You’re an over worker too?” He questioned you, sounding tired.

“All work and no play keeps the town safe,” You smirked at a saying your dad always says to you when he calls. “You know, I can let you see the case file whenever you need it.” You had a feeling Mare kept it close to her today in hopes Colin wouldn't get to look it over himself. “I know Mare can be a bit…,” You struggled to find the right word as you sat down at Mare’s desk running your hand over the old wood.

“Scary,” Colin’s eyes widened and you laughed lightly.

“Intimidating.”

You watched as he tapped the pen on the stack of papers in front of him, searching what to say next.

‘You don't have to worry about her, she’ll come around. The first day is always the hardest, Detective Zabel,” You gave him a gentle smile and he returned the facial gesture.

You couldn't look away from his eyes, they were such a dark brown that they looked almost black. He was clean shaven and from the looks of it, a fresh hair cut.

“Please.. Call me Colin,” He stated warmly. “ And thank YOU Lieutenant for being so welcoming and kind, I truly appreciate it,” God, his smile was intoxicating. You felt your ears burning red at his compliment.

“Well Colin..You should go home and get some rest. I’m sure tomorrow will be just as eventful,” You got up from the desk and Zabel followed suit, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair.

“You headed home too?” Zabel asked as you walked out of Mare’s office together. 

You peaked outside- the rain was pouring down pretty hard. You internally cursed to yourself.

“I’ll probably wait until the rain lets up a bit. I have a bad habit of not checking the weather before I run to work,” You let out a small laugh. Zabel looked at you wildly, and his smile grew large.

“Would you like a ride home? I don’t think this rain is stopping or a while, and I’d never forgive myself for letting the Lieutenant run home in the pouring rain,” His eyes were hopeful as you pondered the sweet request to bring you home.

“No Detective, I don’t want to be a burden,” You smiled and waved him off. God, you hadn’t been in a car with a man that was as handsome as Colin Zabel in a really long time. He smiled and let out a laugh at your ridiculous accusation.

“You’d never be a burden. Please it’s my pleasure.” 

“Well then, let me grab my coat.” You smiled shyly. Letting someone offer their kindness to you. Just this once. 

His car smelt like sandalwood and leather. It was far cleaner than any car you’ve been in, especially your own. There was not a drop of trash except for an old coffee cup from the coffee shop downtown in the cup holder. 

As you pulled out of the station Colin asks if you wanted to listen to some music for the ride home. Apparently he was big into making playlists for car rides. You laughed as he turned up the song. You had never heard it before but the melody was good. He drummed his hands on his steering wheel lightly to the beat. 

“I love this song. Have you ever head of Wilco?” You shook your head but listened to the lyrics through the speakers.

“Tall building shake

Voices escape singing sad, sad songs

Tuned to chords, strung down your cheeks

Bitter melodies turning your orbit around”

“It’s good. I like it,” You stated as you sat genuinely enjoying the tune. You chatted about music as you directed him to your house. You were surprised at how easy Colin was to talk to. He was a bit goofy than anyone you were used to being around, and it was refreshing. He didn’t talk about the case or how much stress he had been under his first day on the new job. He was just happy to be driving you home and enjoying some music in the car.

You pointed at your home coming up on your street. Colin slowed down, and you felt a weird sadness that your time alone with Colin was coming to an end- though you would never admit that out loud. 

“Thanks Zabel, I really do appreciate your kindness,” You said sheepishly. This was the first time in almost a year that you hadn’t ran to work. It’s not like you didn’t have the choice. You could take your police cruiser or your personal Honda CRV to and from work, but running helped you get into the zone for the days ahead. You didn’t particularly enjoy driving alone ever since your husband had died. You had learned to drive in Rick’s first car, you had your first kiss in that same car, and once you both moved to Easttown you drove to work every day together. Ever since he passed 9 and a half years ago, it just sucked driving to work without him. 

“Don’t thank me, please,’ He waved you off. “Your house is actually on the way to mine. Anytime you want a ride you just let me know.” He smiled at you and you felt yourself blushing again. You really hoped in the darkness he couldn’t see your red ears. 

“You’re a real stand up guy,” You laughed as you gathered your things in your hand and prepared to open the door. “See you in the morning, Lieutenant!” He called out. 

You noticed that he stayed parked outside your house up until you had unlocked your front door and stepped inside. It oddly felt like someone had dropped you off after a first date. Once inside you grabbed a beer from the fridge and plopped down on the couch. You pulled your phone out of your back pocket.

 Mare had called you three times. Shit.

You pressed her number and waited for her to pick up. She did on the second ring.

“What the hell have you been doing, Norie? I need you. It’s about Frank and Erin Mcmenamin” 

[flyinghome-againstthewind]

Where the Love-light Gleams

read on ao3

12 Days OL Ficmas 2022

I'll be home for Christmas;

You can plan on me.

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents on the tree.

Christmas eve will find me

Where the love-light gleams.

I'll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams.

 ----------

“Mam? Mama?”

Claire groaned. “Go back to sleep.”

It was Brianna’s voice from the other side of the bed. It was always Brianna who woke up first, but it was Faith who had tucked herself so close to Claire during the night that she’d had hardly any space. Claire felt a twinge in her neck when she shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable with an entire four-and-a-half-year-old still stuck to her like glue.

Half-asleep and reluctant to rise, Faith tried to burrow into her, as if they weren’t close enough as it was. Claire gave in and wrapped her arms around the girl, cuddling her as close as she could.

“Mama?” Bree again. Claire heard the blankets rustling and then her voice was much closer. “Mam?”

Claire could hear the smile in Brianna’s voice and some of her usual morning gruffness melted away. She cracked one eye open to see her baby’s soft smile turn dazzlingly bright as soon as she caught Claire’s gaze.

God, they were so sweet and endearing when ruining her sleep — and if Jamie were here, he would’ve played the part of the buffer, especially with Bree, and Claire wouldn’t even be tempted to boot the children out of their bed just to sleep a little longer.

That Jamie wasn’t here was the only reason she’d let them stay, though…

“Me too,” Brianna was saying, moving to wedge herself between Claire and Faith, to squish herself into the cuddling. Claire held that sweet, smiling face in her hand and playfully pushed her back. Brianna landed in the middle of the bed in a burst of giggles, and Faith let out a loud huff against Claire.

Brianna curled up on the other side of Faith, and Claire’s hand became trapped with Bree, arm draped over both girls and held tight by the two-year-old like she was cuddling one of her dolls. And for a moment, at least, there was blissful stillness. Maybe that was all her tiny girl had needed — a comforting touch to settle her back down.

She tucked Faith’s head under her chin and sighed.

Christmas Eve.

Jamie and Fergus were supposed to be home a week ago by Jamie’s estimate. He had promised to be home in time for Christmas and he only had the day left to prove himself a man of his word.

The ever-present dread squeezed around her heart like a vise. If there was one thing in this world she could depend on, it was Jamie keeping his word, she reminded herself.

Unless something had happened. A sudden lump rose in her throat.

Come home to me, James Fraser…

  ----------

  “Promise me you’ll come home to me, James Fraser. Before Christmas.”

Not for the first time, his wife’s words on the day they parted flitted through his mind. And he had promised. Of course he had. Their lives were tied now with the cycles of the earth — a vineyard was run much like a farm, he was learning — and so Jamie wouldn’t have been able to visit Jared during the fall harvesting. It had seemed the most feasible to go up to Paris on business matters between Brianna’s birthday and Christmas — and it had been feasible at the start. No one could have foreseen the unheard-of amount of snow that delayed Jamie and Fergus from starting their return home. Nor would Claire and Murtagh have caught wind of the storm; it wouldn’t have reached that far south, he was sure.

There was nothing Jamie and Fergus could do but try and make up the time as they traveled as fast as they could.

Even then, at the outset of their journey, Jamie hadn’t been too worried. As long as they traveled steadily each day, keeping a good pace, they would make it home in time.

He should have known that being on the road was never that simple.

  ----------

  “Mama?” Faith tugged on her skirts, playing the part of an ever-present reminder for why Claire couldn’t stay in her mind all day, eyes glued to the horizon outside the window. It was Christmas Eve and the girls were excited for it, looking to Claire to lead them through the usual merry-making. After all, she was the keeper of family traditions for this holiday, wasn’t she?

“What is it?”

“This stocking has a hole in it.” Faith held it up for her mother to see. “I can’t use it for Christmas.”

“Then why did you choose that one?”

Faith ducked her chin towards her chest. “I dinnae ken,” she said, in her own softened dialect that was not quite Scottish nor British, but something of her own, a gentle melding of the two.

“It’s alright, just go pick out one without a hole in it,” Claire instructed her, struggling to keep the laughter out of her voice. Faith promptly headed up the stairs, leaving Claire to watch her go, lips twitching into a wry smile.

The back door through the kitchen banged open, and Claire’s heart leapt at the sound. It was only Murtagh, coming back with fresh-caught game for their supper, but he seemed to understand it wasn’t that Claire was disappointed to see him, only hoping it meant Jamie and Fergus had returned.

She had asked Murtagh, only once, if he would head out in search of them, in case they were in danger, but hadn’t been surprised when Murtagh stubbornly refused to leave Claire and the girls alone when Jamie had entrusted them to his care.

These damn Fraser men and their promises. She had a pit in her stomach worrying over them — because the only reason Jamie might break a promise would mean that something had happened…

“Mama!”

“Not one minute to myself,” she muttered under her breath, earning a snort from Murtagh, and moved towards the stairs. “What is it, my love?”

She met Faith in the hallway, the girl holding a new stocking in hand. Faith sighed loudly, the embodiment of an eighty-year-old who’d run out of patience. “Bree won’t pick a stocking for the fireplace, she’s just trying to put all of them on.”

Sure enough, Brianna sat in the center of the rug, a small pile of stockings beside her. She wasn’t so much trying all of them on as she was tugging them halfway on — the best her fine motor skills could manage — and then abandoning that effort to start on the other foot. Brianna had her tongue pushed out to one corner of her mouth in a sign of concentration, but when she noticed Claire standing in the doorway, she broke into a grin and kicked her feet in the air with her floppy, half-on stockings dangling at the ends.

“What are you doing, silly girl?”

She knelt next to Brianna and pulled the mismatched stockings off, refitted her with the stockings she’d dressed the girl in this morning, and helped her choose one for the mantel from what was left.

Claire remembered, as she did every Christmas now, the joy of helping the children hang their stockings by the fire for that first Christmas at Lallybroch. Faith had been such a tiny thing, only seven months old, but Fergus and wee Jamie and even little Maggie had taken part. She missed Jamie’s family always, but felt the distance from Lallybroch more acutely at Christmas. That time had been so dear to her, that first holiday as parents, building family traditions with their children as well as Jenny and Ian’s. They had thought back then that there would be a lifetime yet of Lallybroch Christmases. Instead, they’d only had the one.

She hefted Brianna onto her hip and checked with Faith that she’d found a stocking without a hole in it before they made their way downstairs together. It was a quieter affair now, hanging stockings with the two little ones, but Claire thought of wee Jamie, Maggie, Kitty, and the twins she longed to meet someday, and hoped they knew they had an auntie across the channel missing them dearly.

It was joyous and tender still, with Faith and Brianna. And that was something she and Jamie had fought tooth and nail to have, after all — a peaceful life with their wee Fraser clan. And it was good, it was so, so good; they didn’t take it for granted, even when they grieved the life they thought they might have had at Lallybroch. Even while they missed the boisterous family gatherings this time of year. It was enough to be together and raise their children in the relative calm of the countryside.

“Will Father Christmas really come here tonight?” Faith checked, brows furrowed with concern. It was the first year that any of the meaning behind their traditions was sinking in for her, and Claire had already answered an abundance of questions for her.

“Yes, but only once you’ve gone to sleep.” Claire brushed some of the wispy curls from the girl’s face and bent to kiss her forehead. “And in the morning, there will be all sorts of treats and little gifts in your stocking.”

“And presents?” Her gaze shifted to their tree in the corner of the room.

“Presents from family under the tree, yes,” Claire assured her, feeling a slight wave of panic for a different reason. She had some small, handmade things for the girls, but since they’d known Jamie would be in Paris before Christmas, he’d been tasked with finding a nice gift for each of the children while he was there. If Jamie didn’t make it home in time before Christmas, neither would the gifts. It wouldn't be the end of the world, she knew, but it would be hard for the girls to understand without giving them cause for worry.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she forced a smile for Faith and caressed her cheek. “Are you excited?”

Faith took a deep breath, weighing her feelings in that moment. “So excited, Mama, I dinnae think I can sleep!”

Claire exhaled a soft laugh. “Well, you better sleep, if you want Father Christmas to come here after all.”

“I will!” Faith vowed. “If I cannae, I will just squeeze my eyes shut like this and pretend,” she said, demonstrating how she would trick Father Christmas, if needed.

“Suppose that will work,” Claire indulged her with a laugh.

The first year that Faith was truly excited for Christmas… and Jamie was missing it. And he wasn’t the only one, either.

“Hey, lovey,” Claire began softly to her oldest girl, “your brother will need his own stocking for Father Christmas, too. Why don’t you run up to his room and grab one for him?”

Faith took off like a shot, not needing to be asked twice. She paused at the foot of the stairs, though, and turned back to Claire, brows furrowed again. “Fergus and Da will be home soon?” she checked.

Claire took a sharp breath in, feeling that vise coil tighter in her chest. “Soon.”

  ----------

 He could hear Fergus’s loud tread on the earth before he looked up from the fire he’d built and spotted the boy’s silhouette against a dusk winter sky. It wasn’t that Fergus was usually heavy-footed; when he dumped an armload of firewood at Jamie’s feet without a word and slunk over to his bedding, it was quite obvious to Jamie that the boy was brooding.

“Thank ye, mon fils.”

Fergus grunted in acknowledgement.

“Is that all for supper?”

Jamie gave the rabbit he’d caught an appraising look. “Aye,” he sighed. “Unless ye saw any of those wee plants yer ma says are safe to eat.”

“It was too dark by the time we made camp,” Fergus said rather pointedly. “We should have stopped sooner.”

“We’re short on daylight this time of year as it is, lad. Have to make every use of it that we can.”

“We should have tried to shoot that buck we saw earlier in the day.”

Jamie inhaled sharply, a ready defense on the tip of his tongue — the same one he’d given earlier to Fergus — but thought better about taking the bait. Fergus was frustrated, tired, and hungry. He understood that; he was all those things as well.

Fergus, though, didn’t need Jamie’s response to unload the rest of his complaints. “We should not be starving ourselves, driving the horses on hardly any sleep — and too fast at the start for the wagon to handle. That’s why it broke, you know.”

Jamie rolled his jaw. He did know — and now instead of trying to make up their time and still arrive the week before Christmas, they were already behind with a wagon that couldn’t take much jostling without risk of losing a whole wheel, and they were just trying to make it home at all.

By Christmas, still. It had to be by Christmas for his wife’s sake as well as his own.

“We should not be killing ourselves out here,” Fergus muttered. “And for what? Why could we not take our time? It’s only a day, and we could tell les petits that it’s Christmas whenever we return.”

“For Christ’s sake, d’ye no’ think that yer mother’s worrit sick every day that we don’t return?” Jamie snapped. “Have ye not thought of her in all of this? Or only of yer own discomfort?”

Fergus went quiet.

“I gave her my word,” he said in a much gentler tone. “I ken ye want to rest and go easy along the way, but we’ve lost too much time. I cannae put her through more than I already have.”

The fire cast a warm glow on Fergus’s anguished face. Jamie felt his heart squeeze in his chest. “I’m sorry, a balach. I should have made ye stay at home.”

Fergus wiped his nose on his sleeve, his expression hardening. “You would not have been able to manage this journey without me,” the boy said plainly, and Jamie knew there was truth to that. Even that aside, he didn’t know what it was like anymore to walk through life without his own son at his side, eager to learn, to prove himself a man. Aye, and at thirteen, nearly fourteen, Fergus was fast approaching that threshold of adulthood. They were trying to hold fast to these next few years with him, he and Claire both, and it had never been a question as to whether Fergus should go with Jamie to Paris.

“Aye, that may be so,” he agreed. “Still.” Jamie fed more wood into the fire. “It’s yer Christmas celebrations that ye might miss too, while we’re out here.”

Fergus sighed. “I know,” he said, his voice turning a little wistful. “It’s not that I don’t want to be home for it, Papa. I do.”

“I ken,” Jamie murmured. He was more than ready to be home again, to not be on the road, but the fact remained that there were so many miles that stood between them and no way out of this mess but through it.

They ate quietly, and burrowed under their blankets, careful of the fire. It was chilly, but nothing compared to a Highland winter for Jamie. He checked with Fergus to make sure the boy was warm enough.

“What d’ye miss the most?” Jamie asked into the still winter air. The stars had come out, and for all that he would rather be cooped up inside with Claire and the bairns, the night sky above them in that moment was a beautiful sight.

“All of it,” Fergus answered honestly, his voice a little muffled under his blankets. Jamie looked over to see he had them pulled up over his nose, and cracked a smile at the sight of him. “But I was thinking just now about the Christmas songs Maman always teaches us.”

“She teaches ye songs?”

“Yes,” Fergus laughed. “Not you — you have no ear for music, Papa — but me and les petites filles she teaches, yes. I think it helps her remember her own time. And sometimes we work on translating them into French, so that I will remember them better. There’s one that… Maman said it was from the war in her time, about not making it home for Christmas because they are off fighting.”

“Would ye sing it for me, lad?”

Fergus shifted on his bedding and tucked the blanket under his chin. “I do not remember all of it, mind,” he said before he began. He had a clear voice, but Fergus also hadn’t been wrong when he said Jamie had no ear for music, so the melody was lost on him. Instead, he listened to the words and felt his throat swell as the meaning strung together.

Christmas Eve will find me where the love-light gleams.

His chest tightened as Fergus finished with the song.

God, he missed her. His Sorcha. And the bairns’ sweet wee faces. And he didn’t want to disappoint them or hurt them, but stronger still than the overwhelming need to set things right was the insurmountable need to just… be with them again. Kiss the lassies’ wee faces. Hold his wife to his heart.

God.

He’d never felt so homesick, not since… since before Brianna was born, he realized. Since the time he’d thought home was lost for good.

Well, he thought dryly, this is no’ as bad as all o’ that, is it?

He would make it home to them, it was only a matter of time.

---------- 

to be continued...

[shawnmendesbuddy]

City Of Love

City of Love (Personal Assistant AU—Reversed Roles)

A/N: So, in this imagine, Shawn is Y/n’s personal assistant and Y/N is the popstar. Andrew is still her manager, but Brian is a girl, and his name is Brianna. Haha, hope you like it

Summary: Shawn is Y/N’s assistant and he’s head over heels for her. Does she feel the same for him?

Warnings: Swear Words

            There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Shawn was in love with the Y/N L/N. It was a known fact. The team knew, the fans knew it, hell even Y/N herself knew it. And it wasn’t like he tried to hide it either. Not in the loving glances he sent to her. Not in the long hugs he pulled her into at the end of her shows. Not in the soft kisses he planted on her forehead when she was feeling extra stressed. He was completely transparent.

            Y/N on the other hand was a different story. No one could really tell with her how she felt for him. And she did it on purpose. She couldn’t date her personal assistant. It would be too messy. Plus, he was her best friend. She couldn’t ruin that friendship for a relationship that might not even last.

So, when Shawn would give her those glances, she would roll her eyes at him and act oblivious. When he would pull her into those bear hugs, she would pat his back in a friendly way. And when he would kiss her on the forehead, she would brush it off as a kind act.

She was chastised by her friends, her team, and her family. “You can’t keep letting him wander around you like a lovesick puppy. Just put poor Shawn out of his misery. You have to tell him that you don’t feel that way about him.”

But she did feel that way about him. She just couldn’t. And she knew it was wrong to lead him on like she was, but she couldn’t do anything. She wanted him in her life. She wanted him in any way that she could get. And if that was just as a best friend/personal assistant then that was how it would have to be. And it wasn’t like he had ever told her about his true feelings for her. He had never actually said the words “I love you in more than a platonic way.” So, until that happened, she was perfectly fine with the way their relationship was.

*****

Shawn was mesmerized with the way she sung to the crowd so passionately. It honestly put him in a daze. “You’re so whipped,” Brianna laughed.

“Shut up,” he blushed. “If only I knew she felt the same. Does your best friend really have to be the most confusing women on this planet?”             “I ask myself the same question every day. I’m not even sure how she feels about you. She hasn’t ever come out and explicitly said she likes or dislikes you. It’s almost like she doesn’t know if she should like you or not. She’s undecided. It’s weird and so unlike her. You know her probably better than me. You spend more time with her. She’s never indecisive. She always seems to know what she wants. It’s only when it comes to you that she doesn’t. I can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad thing.”

Shawn sighed. “Somedays I wonder if she even wants me here. And then others, it’s like I’m the only person that exists to her.”

Y/N finished her last song and came running off the stage. Shawn pulled her into one of his famous hugs while she patted his back. “You were amazing! Not that I don’t think every show is fantastic, but I think this one is your best one yet!”

“You say that every night,” she chuckled.

“Cause it’s true! It gets better every time you preform.”

She pulled away from the hug. “You’re only saying that because I am your boss.”

And there she went ruining a sweet moment. She always had to bring up her job around him and frankly it hurt his feelings. She was more than just his boss to him. She was his confidant, the person who knew him better than anyone else, the person who helped him through his anxiety.

She didn’t seem to notice the shift in his demeanor as Andrew patted her on the shoulder congratulating her. Brianna sent him a sympathetic smile and rubbed his arm.

This small gesture caught Y/N’s attention from the corner of her eye. She felt a small pang of jealously go through her, but it faded quickly when Shawn turned back to her and sent her one of his signature smiles.

*****

After showering and getting back on the tour bus, Y/N headed for the back of the bus towards her room. They were going to Paris the next day, the city of love. It had always been on Y/N’s bucket list to go there, but they had skipped it her last tour. To say she was excited was an understatement. She had even convinced Andrew to give them three extra days after her show in Paris for her and the team to explore. Andrew obliged even though everyone knew that he secretly wanted to explore France just as much as the rest of them.

“Knock, knock,” Shawn said outside her door.

“Come in.” She was laying on her bed reading a book in her sweatpants and one of Shawn’s old band t-shirts. And that was another thing that confused Shawn. She and Shawn would often sleep in the same bed together because they both enjoyed the comfort. Occasionally Shawn would lend her his shirts (which he thought she looked adorable in), and she would willingly accept. Which probably wasn’t an odd thing for best friends to do, but she rarely gave them back which pulled on Shawn’s heartstrings, making him think that maybe he had a chance.

She glanced up at him and felt her heart stop. He was shirtless, which wasn’t a new thing for her. But damn did he look fine tonight. His hair was a tousled mess, and it was so extremely attractive to her. She tried to hide her infatuation by glancing back down at her book, but she couldn’t focus on the words.

“Are you going to stay the night in here,” She asked him to try to seem nonchalant.

“Obviously! We still have that season of the bachelorette to finish! I’m so excited to see who she’s going to choose.”

Y/N shook her head at him. “And to think that three months ago you thought this show was obnoxious.” She thought it was sweet that he wanted to watch something with her.

“Hey, once it gets started it’s actually kind of entertaining. But at first glance it doesn’t seem that way.”

“Just quit lurking in my doorway, it’s rude. Get in this bed right now!”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He was under her covers in the blink of an eye.

“So, Mr. Mendes, what’s on the schedule for tomorrow,” she questioned while she turned on the T.V. and hit play on the episode.

“You’ve got an online interview at 10:00 am and then you’ve got soundcheck at noon. The meet and greets at 4:30 and you’re show starts at 7:30 tomorrow. A little later than usual, but we’re not getting to Paris until like 11:00 am so…late show it is.”

She sighed laying her head on his bare chest and placing her book on her nightstand. “How would I ever do it without you? You’re the best. Thanks Shawn.”

Shawn hummed a your welcome and felt his heart rate increase. He hoped she wouldn’t be able to hear it thudding against his chest.

*****

“Y/N, honey. It’s time to wake up,” a soft voice filled the room, shaking her from her sleep. She sat up, her hair a mess, and her eyes half closed. Shawn let out a little chuckle. She was adorable.

“Sorry to wake you, but you’ve got that interview in an hour and I didn’t know how long you wanted to take to get ready.”

“You’re good Mr. Mendes! Thanks for always keeping me on schedule.” At this point she had stood from the bed and was walking towards him. She placed a kiss on his cheek as she walked towards the shower.

The second the door closed to the bathroom, Shawn went to the living quarters of the bus. “I saw that, you know,” a sly voice said from the corner of the room. Shawn turned to see Brianna.

“Saw what?” He could feel himself blushing.

“You walk out of her room. Her kissing your cheek. The basics.”

“Well, she kisses my cheek a lot, it’s nothing new. And we sleep in the same bed a lot. It’s honestly become rarer for us to not sleep in the same bed.”

A pregnant pause went through the room as they heard the shower in the background.

“I was thinking of ways to get her to confess her feelings to you. Or at least drop a hint of something. It’s getting so obnoxious seeing you follow her around like a puppy.”

“I’m listening.”

“In high school, she really liked this boy. But no one knew because she never acted like she did. Well anyways, one day we were playing spin the bottle and I was chosen to kiss him. She was insanely jealous and hardly talked to me the next couple days. I finally confronted her about it, and she told me she had a massive crush on him.

“I thought she was so mad at me. But she had distanced herself from me because apparently, she couldn’t get the image of me and him kissing out of her head. If she reacts the same way with you, it means she really likes you.”

Shawn hesitated. “Look, you’re an amazing girl, but I just don’t want to kiss anyone besides Y/N.”

Brianna laughed. “I have a boy that I’m talking to. I know the feeling. We don’t have to kiss, but we should make it seem like we’re flirting or something. Maybe you could hug me like you always hug her. Maybe a few forehead kisses, some holding hands, and voila, if she has feelings for you, all will be revealed. If she doesn’t, then she’ll probably try to encourage our relationship or something.”             “It doesn’t hurt trying.”

They both turned their heads as they heard the door to Y/N’s room opening as she stepped out. A light blue blouse adorned her beautiful figure and complimented her eyes. Her hair lay in soft curls framing her face and Shawn couldn’t help but be breathless for a few seconds.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” Y/N asked as she stared between the two. Brianna had moved closer to Shawn to make it seem like they were having a more than friendly conversation before she walked in.

“Nope, not at all. Need help getting ready?” Brianna quickly asked to draw the attention away from Shawn who had his mouth slightly open as he stared at Y/N.

*****

“Oh my gosh Shawn, you’re hilarious,” Brianna had said while they ate lunch at the stadium where Y/N would be performing later that night.

Y/N looked across the way at Brianna and sent her a questioning glance. She hadn’t thought Shawn’s joke was funny enough to warrant a reaction like that. But that most likely meant that Brianna was flirting with Shawn. Which was a new thing.

A very new thing. Y/N wondered when her friend had developed this flirty relationship with her assistant. Before today, Brianna would always roll her eyes at Shawn’s cheesy jokes. Now she was sending googly eyes at him.

A pang of jealousy coursed through her. But she didn’t have much time to dwell on it before Andrew was walking over to the trio to tell them that Y/N’s sound check was supposed to be starting in ten minutes.

“Shawn, why didn’t you tell me sound check got moved to thirty minutes earlier?”

Shawn stared cheekily at Brianna. At this point, they had let the whole team in on their plot and everyone was working hard to play it off. They all wanted Y/N’s feelings to be revealed once and for all.

“I guess I just got distracted, sorry,” he sent a wink to Brianna that didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N.

She scoffed. “Well try to not to get distracted again. You are working right now, not trying to get a date for tonight.” She stood from the table and walked away calmly.

Shawn pointed his thumb after her and looked to Brianna. “She seems more pissed that I wasn’t doing my job than about our flirting.”

“Just give it a few more days. She’ll eventually crack. Either by threatening to fire you or telling you she loves you.”

Shawn’s eyes grew twice in size. “She wouldn’t actually fire me though. I’m basically as close to her as you are.”

“No, she’ll definitely fire you. But then she’ll rehire you once she’s calmed down a bit. You know how she is.”

That he did know. She was the most kind-hearted person he knew. She would do anything for anyone. But she was a very feisty women who wasn’t afraid to fight for what she believed in. And to top it all off, she had a mean sense of humor. And sometimes that could make her a little scary.

Shawn remembered the first time he ever met her. He thought she was going to fire him on the spot. He had bumped into her when she had been walking out of the recording studio and he had been walking in. It was his first day on the job and he had brought hot chocolate as a kind gesture.

The scorching hot chocolate had spilled all over her clothes. After looking down to assess the damage (her white shirt would probably have to be thrown in the trash) she glanced back up at Shawn. “Watch where you’re going,” she had scoffed.

Shawn felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I am so, so, so sorry. I will pay for a new shirt. Please forgive me.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, reading his name tag. “So, you’re my new assistant. Looks like you’re off to a rough start. The shirt is 150 dollars. Cough it up,” she held out her hand, as if she was waiting for cash to be placed in it.

Shawn scrambled to get his wallet from his back pocket when he heard Y/N laughing. It was a melodic noise, but it surprised him. She hadn’t sounded angry. He dared a look at her.

“I’m sorry but the look on your face was priceless. Don’t worry about it, this shirt was only like 20 bucks and it’s a few years old. It might’ve been time to donate it anyway.”

Shawn was shocked. Her sudden change in demeanor threw him off guard.

“I’m Y/N by the way. And sorry if I scared you about that, but I have an awful sense of humor. Sometimes it’s just funny to be serious and play into the diva stereotype. I hope I can prove to you that I’m not actually like that. Forgive me?”

He stared at her for a few seconds as she held out her hand to him. “…I already knew who you were,” he chuckled. “You’re like my favorite celebrity so it’s really a huge honor to be working for you. And I’m the one that needs to be forgiven.” He reached out and shook her hand.

“Don’t worry, I forgave you the second I saw that smile. You should look into modeling.” And with that she brushed past him and walked into the bathroom no doubt to try and clean off the spill on her shirt.

*****

When Y/N ran off the stage after her performance that night, she was disappointed to not see Shawn standing right by the stage where he usually was. Instead, she heard sounds of laughter and rounded the corner to find Brianna and Shawn sitting on a couch and watching a show together.

“No way she said no! I totally thought he was the end all be all!”

Y/N was confused. She didn’t remember Shawn and Brianna ever being this close of friends. He had his arm around her shoulders and a blanket rested over their legs. Her head was on his shoulder.

Y/N was upset. Not only because she was jealous, but because her two best friends had somehow gotten close to each other overnight without her knowing. And to top it all off, they hadn’t even told her that their relationship was changing. It would’ve been a nice warning for Y/N before she got her heart broken.

Andrew observed Y/N’s reaction quietly from behind her. A smug smile played at his lips. Y/N stood there for only a few seconds, but he could tell she was not happy with the two’s proximity. She turned to walk back to the dressing room.

“Hey when they get out of their googly eye love land will you have both of them come to my dressing room. Looks like they forgot to include me in our after-show celebration,” she forced a smile onto her face that didn’t go unnoticed by Andrew.

As Y/N walked away, Brianna slid out from under Shawn’s arm and shudder. “Ew. That was weird.”

“Yea, seriously. Notice anything Andrew?” The two looked up at him.

“She just seems upset. I’m assuming you guys heard what she said to me?”

They both nodded. “Tell her we’ll meet her on the bus.”

Andrew sighed. “Are you kids sure this is a good idea? How long are we going to let this go on for?”

“Just until she does something about it.”

“Alright then. “

*****

Y/N walked onto the bus a half an hour later. After hearing that her two best friends had bailed on their tradition of celebrating after a show, she had broken down in the dressing room.

The show hadn’t gone as well as she had hoped. She had missed a few notes and being the perfectionist that she was, it really upset her. She craved one of Shawn’s hugs. He always noticed when she was feeling down about her performance. But instead, he was off swooning her best friend.

She dried her eyes and walked onto the bus, hoping they weren’t still red from crying. Brianna and Shawn were on the couch cuddling and asleep! Shawn had his arm wrapped around her middle and they looked so peaceful. It was hard to find a time where Shawn looked so relaxed. She didn’t even think he was that laid back with her.

And then it hit her. If they were both going to make the other person happy, she should quit being a jealous and selfish friend and let them do what they want. She wouldn’t try to force them into being around her if they didn’t want to be.

She felt a stinging sensation in her eyes, and she knew she was about to cry again. She lost her chance with Shawn and there was nothing she could do about it. She walked to her room, turning off the light and instantly falling asleep. She even forgot that the last episode of the Bachelorette was on that night!

*****

For their first day in Paris, Shawn had found a small Parisian café to eat breakfast in. He knew Y/N was somewhat fluent in French and she wanted to get the full experience. It originally was only going to be the two of them going to the café, but he decided that Brianna needed to come so they could keep up their act.

“Knock, knock,” Shawn said opening her door. He had a terrible night’s sleep. His insomnia flared up (she usually helped with that), and he was exhausted. He and Brianna had faked being asleep on the tour bus couch, but she hadn’t even spared them a thought. She had just walked to her room.

“Hey, you look tired.” She herself didn’t look to awake either. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, but makeup did a good job covering up the bags under her eyes. Her hair was flawless like always and she wore a white sundress. She was breathtaking.

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep too good last night.”

“Me either. I was planning on watching the last episode of The Bachelorette with my best friends, but y’all already watched it without me,” she chuckled to play it off as a joke, but he could hear the sadness seeping through her voice.

He scratched the back of his neck guiltily. Truth be told he didn’t really want to watch The Bachelorette without her, but Brianna convinced him it was a good idea. “Yea, sorry about that. I was just too excited to see who she chose. But I’ll watch it with you tonight if you’d like.”

“Yea, that sounds nice.”

There was an awkward lull in their conversation until Brianna popped up next to Shawn. Her hair was in perfect curls. Her makeup was flawless. And she was wearing a blue dress that complimented her eyes and red hair.

“You guys ready to go?”

Y/N tried to hide her surprise at the question. She assumed Shawn had invited her which was fine. She just had to act like it didn’t bother her. Shawn looked at Y/N shyly, trying to silently apologize.

“Yea, let’s go,” Y/N said brushing past Shawn and walking to the front of the bus.

*****

The café had only a few people in it when they arrived. “Bonjour!” Y/N said to the waitresses. They smiled at her, and she held a light conversation with them in French before they were seated. Shawn would never stop being impressed at the many talents she had.

Shawn and Brianna chose to sit across from each other leaving Y/N to sit by herself. She felt like the third wheel on a date. Funny how it was supposed to be just her and Shawn, but she’s the one who feels like the third wheel, not Brianna.

Y/N was quieter than usual which didn’t go unnoticed by her two best friends. But instead of bringing it up, they decided to let her fester in her emotions. She would eventually say something, they concluded.

But that went on for the entire day. They went sight-seeing in Paris with the rest of the team, and Y/N tried to avoid being around the two. She went to hang out with Connor, her photographer, who sent Shawn an evil eye. He looked after Y/N like his little sister. While he agreed that Y/N needed to fess up, he didn’t like the way she as being manipulated into doing it.

“Just ignore him,” Brianna whispered.

“Yea, ok.” That didn’t stop Shawn from feeling like a piece of shit for treating Y/N like this.

That night, Y/N got ready for bed hoping that Shawn would eventually come into her room to watch The Bachelorette, but that never happened.

*****

The next day went almost the same as the first. But by the last day, Shawn and Brianna were getting sick of pretending to like each other.

“You know what, scrap that dumb plan I made up a few days ago. Clearly, it’s not working and it’s just making her more and more upset. Which is not something we need. I never wanted to hurt her feelings and I’m sure you didn’t either. Take her to the Eiffel Tower tonight. Just you two. No one else.”

“…I’m guessing you’re going to say I should confess my love to her like in all those cliché love stories,” he chuckled. “Well, it’s better than your first plan.”

“Hey, you agreed to that!”

“Yea, yea. More like I got pressured into it.”

Brianna crossed her arms as Y/N walked out of her room. She was wearing a brown cardigan over a light blue dressed. She stared between the two before walking towards the small kitchen and pulling out some cereal and a bowl.

Brianna tilted her head towards Y/N, insinuating that Shawn should talk to her. She walked away and Shawn went to the kitchen.

“Hey, what if I took you out for dinner tonight?”

“Well actually I just wanted to stay in and rest.”

“Yea, but you can do that all day tomorrow when we’re heading to the next city.”

“Yea, but my bed is so warm and cozy, and I just want to lay down in it.”

“Nope, you’re coming with me. I’ve barely spent any time with you this whole trip.”

Shawn grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her towards the exit of the bus. She pulled back with a force just as strong.

“No! If you wanted to spend time with me, you and Brianna would stop making me feel like a third wheel. I don’t want to even be around you guys because you leave me out. It’s not fun!”

“Brianna isn’t coming. It’ll just be me and you.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows at him. “Uh huh. And Brianna is ok with this?”

“Yea, why wouldn’t she be?”

“Just seems like you two have to do everything together since we got to Paris.”

Shawn turned away to hide his smile. Maybe their first plan had worked a little. Y/N definitely did seem a little jealous.

“Well, I promise she’s not coming. Let me take you to dinner and we can go see the top of the Eiffel Tower. It’ll be fun. Please,” he used his puppy dog eyes on her. The ones he knew she couldn’t resist.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, but was secretly excited for their little outing.

*****

            “Notre Dame was so pretty. I think it’s been my favorite place so far.”

            “Yea Notre Dame was cool. I just wished that I got to spend more time with you,” Shawn said as he took a bite out of his food.

Y/N scoffed. “If you wanted to spend more time with me, you would’ve spent less time flirting with Brianna.”

“Hey! It’s not like you weren’t flirting up a storm with Connor!” That wasn’t an entirely false statement. Y/N had tried to make Shawn jealous, but she didn’t think it had worked.

“Please Shawn,” she waved her hand at him, “he’s like a brother to me. You know that.”

“Ok and you’re like a sister to me! Brianna…” he paused. He didn’t know why he had said that. In a round-a-bout type of way, he was trying to insinuate to her that his relationship with her was like her relationship with Connor. They acted like siblings but would flirt. Connor knew Y/N was off limits though because Shawn had already staked a claim.

“Brianna what?” She was red in the face from arguing with him.

“She’s like a friend to me. I mean I don’t really know her that well. I spend more time with you than with her.”

“It sure didn’t seem like it this week. You know what though, I think we need to leave. Let’s just leave this argument in the past and have a good time tonight. You ready to go?”

Shawn nodded his head and placed a bill down on the table. Y/N tried to beat him to it but he said, “Nuh uh. I’m paying for this.”

*****

            The air was cold at the top of the Eiffel Tower and Y/N shivered in her dress as they stared out at the city lights. It was a beautiful sight, but Shawn couldn’t tear his eyes away from Y/N’s figure. She looked so free and happy. Something he hadn’t seen on her the entire week. He knew he was to blame for that. It was now or never that he told her his feelings.

“Here, you look cold,” he draped his jacket around her shoulders.

“Thanks.”

“Look Y/N, the real reason I took you up here tonight is because I have to tell you something. It’s kind of a big deal. It’s a secret I’ve been keeping from you since I first met you,” he grabbed her hand and she glanced at him.

“I know Shawn. I know that you used to love me, but now your feelings have shifted, and you want to figure out whatever it is that you have with Brianna. I’m not offended or hurt or anything. And if talking to mean is your way to find closure, I’m here for you. And if you want my advice,” she paused and looked back out at the city, “I would resolve the fight you two were in before we left.”

Shawn stared at her dumbstruck. She was letting him go so easily. No fight. Nothing. That surely meant that she didn’t love him.And she already knew that he loved her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t made it obvious, but he just thought she didn’t know.

Shawn didn’t say anything for a few seconds and Y/N tried to stop the tears from coming to her eyes. She had once again lost something to her best friend and she once again, couldn’t be mad at her for it.

“You know, I always pictured myself up here with a man I had fallen head over heels with,” she took a deep breath. It was now or never. She had nothing to lose. “I guess I just didn’t realize that he would’ve fallen for my best friend instead.” Shawn’s mouth opened in shock. “I was such an idiot. I thought that by hiding my feelings and waiting for you to confess first to me I would have it confirmed that you loved me back. I wouldn’t have to make that leap of faith. But I waited too long, and I lost my chance.” She looked into his eyes, into the very depths of his soul.

And at the top of the City of Love, she whispered, “I love you, Shawn. As more than a friend. More than you’ll ever know. And I am so, so sorry that I was a coward about all of this. I cost us a beautiful relationship. But I want you and Brianna to be happy. It’ll give me peace of mind knowing that I didn’t screw everything up.”

And with that, she pulled her hand away from Shawn’s and turned to walk away. Shawn went after her. “Where are you going?! We’re at the most perfect spot in the city! You can’t just drop that on me and walk away!”

She turned around. “Please Shawn, I can’t have you doing this. Don’t get my hopes up. I’m tired and I want to go back to the bus.”

“Y/N wait—”

“Please! I can’t do this tonight!”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her around to face him. He didn’t waste another moment before capturing her lips in his. She wrapped her hands around his neck and tugged on his hair. She finally pulled back, slightly pushing him away.

“I love you ok. If you just would’ve let me talk, I would’ve gotten to that point. This whole week me and Brianna have been trying to make you jealous,” he chuckled at her appalled face. “We just wanted you to break first and confess to me. We realized we had taken it too far when you distanced yourself from us. Me and Brianna were arguing because she was trying to pressure me into telling you my feelings tonight. I promise she is just a friend. Nothing more.”

There was a long pause and Shawn watched something shift in Y/N’s eyes. “You are such an idiot! You know what, you’re fired!” She stared at him with crossed arms, a red face, and angry eyes.

Shawn couldn’t tell if she was being serious or if she was joking.

“You’ve pushed me too far this time. That was so dumb of you! I don’t care if you say you love me, you wouldn’t have done that if you did! I expect your things to be packed up. You’re leaving at the next city!”

Shawn scrunched his eyes at her, and she turned away, starting to walk down the steps of the Eiffel Tower.

By the time they had made it to the bus (which was in walking distance), Y/N hadn’t spoken a word to Shawn. Even though he had begged and begged for forgiveness.

When they got on the bus, Brianna waited for them on one of the couches. “So…I’m guessing by Y/N’s face it didn’t go too well,” she said to Shawn.

“NO! He’s fired! And how dare you do that to me!”

Brianna made eye contact with Shawn and her eyes widened when she realized that Y/N wasn’t joking.

“Woah Y/N, think about this for a second. Shawn is your best friend.”

“Yea and you guys are such idiots to think that I would actually fire you!” She turned around laughing at Shawn.

He rolled his eyes. “I guess we kind of deserved that. But I hate your sense of humor.”

“Oh, shut up! You love it like you love me!”

“Hmmm, I don’t know about that. We were having a sweet moment and you had to ruin it.”

“Maybe just be transparent next time and I won’t have to use my ‘mean humor’ on you.” She threw her (his) jacket at him with a smile on her face and walked towards her room.

“You better go be with your girl,” Brianna sent him a wink and he rolled his eyes at her.

“Thanks for everything!”

“Don’t mention it. It is the city of love, it was bound to happen.”

A/N: lol what is this garbage. I loved the plot but executed it so badly. Thanks for reading anyways. Feedback is appreciated.

[brian-in-finance]

Screenshot: Outlander-Online

S04E09 The Birds And The Bees • 30 December 2018 Official Script

Outlander Rewatch 2023 Countdown To Season 7

Favourite Word

It means... means my darling. M' annsachd, my blessing. — Jamie

Gif: @avasetocallmyown

Favourite Line

What took ye so long, lass? — Murtagh

Gif: @frasersjamieclaire

Favourite Images

Jamie wrestles with the impossibility of it. He reaches out to touch her, very lightly, his fingers drawing down her face, brushing back the waves of hair from her temple to cheek, tracing the line of her jaw.

Brianna’s face cracks and the tears she had been holding back spill down her cheeks in a flood of relief. She falls into Jamie’s arms, weeping, overwhelmed, letting out everything -- the nervousness of meeting him, her exhaustion from travel, the traumatic event from last night.

Gifs: @themusicsweetly

She sees -- Jamie sitting on a bench. Her eyes focus on Jamie’s face then shift to the right and for a split second she thinks she’s hallucinating. But she’s not -- sitting next to Jamie is Brianna.

Claire has no time to even think about it before Brianna is in her arms, and Claire is almost knocked off her feet, both literally and figuratively.

Gifs: @avasetocallmyown

Remember… you’ll have not seen your mother, then? Christ. She'll be mad wi' joy. — Jamie

51st of 75 • Tuesday, 23 May 2023

[sassenach77yle]

He opened his eyes and gave me a dark blue look.

“Sassenach,” he said softly.

“What?”

“I would like ye to touch me . . . without hurting me. Just once before I sleep. Would ye mind much?”

I stopped and drew breath, terribly disconcerted at the realization that he was right. Caught up in the emergency and worry of his condition, everything I had done to him during the day had been painful, intrusive, or both. Marsali, Brianna, Roger, Jemmy—all of them had touched him in gentleness, offering sympathy and comfort.

And I—I had been so terrified at the possibility of what might happen, of what I might be forced to do, that I had taken no time, allowed no room for gentleness. I looked away for a moment, blinking until the tears retreated. Then I stood and walked over to the bed, bent, and kissed him, very softly. I stroked the hair back from his forehead, smoothed his brows with my thumb. Arch Bug had shaved him; the skin of his cheek was smooth, hot against the side of my hand. His bones were hard under his skin, framing his strength—and yet he seemed suddenly fragile. I felt fragile, too.

“I want ye to sleep beside me, Sassenach,” he whispered.

“All right.” I smiled at him, my lips trembling only a little. “Let me brush out my hair.” I sat down in my shift, shook out my hair, and took up the brush. He watched me, not speaking, but with a faint smile on his lips, as I worked. He liked to watch me brush my hair; I hoped it was as soothing to him as it was to me. There were noises downstairs, but they were muffled, safely distant. The shutters were ajar; firelight flickered against the glass of the window from the dying bonfire in the yard. I glanced at the window, wondering if I ought to close the shutters.

“Leave them, Sassenach,” he murmured from the bed. “I like to hear the talk.”

The sound of voices from outside was comforting, rising and falling, with small bursts of laughter. The sound of the brush was soft and regular, like surf on sand, and I felt the stress of the day lessen slowly, as though I could brush all the anxieties and dreads out of my hair as easily as tangles and bits of pumpkin vine. When at last I put down the brush and rose, Jamie’s eyes were closed. I knelt to smoor the fire, rose to blow out the candle, and went at last to bed. I eased myself gently into the bed beside him, not to jostle. He lay turned away from me, on his side, and I turned toward him, echoing the curve of his body with my own, careful not to touch him. I lay very quietly, listening. All the house sounds had settled to their night-time rhythm; the hiss of the fire and the rumble of wind in the flue, the sudden startling crack! of the stairs, as though some unwary foot had stepped upon a riser. Mr. Wemyss’s adenoidal snoring reached me, reduced to a soothing buzz by the thickness of the intervening doors. There were still voices outside, muffled by distance, disjointed with drink and the lateness of the hour. All jovial, though; no sound of hostility or incipient violence. I didn’t really care, though. The inhabitants of the Ridge could hammer each other senseless and dance on the remains, for all I cared. All my attention was focused on Jamie. His breathing was shallow but even, his shoulders relaxed. I didn’t want to disturb him; he needed rest above all things. At the same time, I ached to touch him. I wanted to reassure myself that he was here, alive beside me—but I also needed badly to know how things went with him. Was he feverish? Had the incipient infection in his leg blossomed in spite of the penicillin, spreading poison through his blood? I moved my head cautiously, bringing my face within an inch of his shirt-covered back, and breathed in, slow and deep. I could feel the warmth of him on my face, but couldn’t tell through the linen nightshirt just how hot he really was.

He smelt faintly of the woods, more strongly of blood. The onions in the dressing gave off a bitter tang; so did his sweat. I inhaled again, testing the air. No scent of pus. Too early for the smell of gangrene, even if the rot was beginning, invisible under the bandages. I thought there was a the tissue? Some breakdown product of the snake’s venom? I blew a short breath through my nose and took in a fresh one, deeper. “Do I stink verra badly?” he inquired. “Uk!” I said, startled into biting my tongue, and he quivered slightly, in what I took to be suppressed amusement. “Ye sound like a wee truffle-pig, Sassenach, snortling away back there.” “Oh, indeed,” I said, a bit crossly. I touched the tender spot on my tongue. “Well, at least you’re awake. How do you feel?” “Like a pile of moldy tripes.” “Very picturesque,” I said. “Can you be a trifle more specific?” I put a hand lightly on his side, and he let his breath out in a sound like a small moan. “Like a pile of moldy tripes . . .” he said, and pausing to breathe heavily, added, “. . . .with maggots.” “You’d joke on your deathbed, wouldn’t you?” Even as I said it, I felt a tremor of unease. He would, and I hoped this wasn’t it. “Well, I’ll try, Sassenach,” he murmured, sounding drowsy. “But I’m no really at my best under the circumstances.” “Do you hurt much?” “No. I’m just . . . tired.”

He sounded as though he were in fact too exhausted to search for the proper word, and had settled for that one by default. “Little wonder if you are. I’ll go and sleep somewhere else, so you can rest.” I made to throw back the covers and rise, but he stopped me, raising one hand slightly.

“No. No, dinna leave me.” His shoulder fell back toward me, and he tried to lift his head from the pillow. I felt still more uneasy when I realized that he was too weak even to turn over by himself. “I won’t leave you. Maybe I should sleep in the chair, though. I don’t want to—”

“I’m cold,” he said softly. “I’m verra cold.” I pressed my fingers lightly just under his breastbone, seeking the big abdominal pulse. His heartbeat was rapid, shallower than it should have been. He wasn’t feverish. He didn’t just feel cold, he was cold to the touch, his skin chilled and his fingers icy. I found that very alarming.

No longer shy, I cuddled close against him, my breasts squashing softly against his back, cheek resting on his shoulder blade. I concentrated as hard as I could on generating body heat, trying to radiate warmth through my skin and into his. So often he had enfolded me in the curve of his body, sheltering me, giving me the warmth of his big body. I wished passionately that I were larger, and could do the same for him now; as it was, I could do no more than cling to him like a small, fierce mustard plaster, and hope I had the same effect.

fit the rounds of his buttocks. They tightened slightly in surprise, then relaxed. It occurred to me to wonder just why I felt I must lay hands on him, but I didn’t trouble my mind with it; I had had the feeling many times before, and had long since given up worrying that it wasn’t scientific. I could feel the faintly pebbled texture of the rash upon his skin, and the thought came unbidden of the lamia. A creature smooth and cool to the touch, a shape-shifter, passionately venomous, its nature infectious. A swift bite and the snake’s poison spreading, slowing his heart, chilling his warm blood; I could imagine tiny scales rising under his skin in the dark. I forcibly repressed the thought, but not the shudder that went with it.

“Claire,” he said softly. “Touch me.”

I couldn’t hear his heartbeat. I could hear mine; a thick, muffled sound in the ear pressed to the pillow. I slid my hand over the slope of his belly, and more slowly down, fingers parting the coarse curly tangle, dipping low to cup the rounded shapes of him. What heat he had was here. I stroked him with a thumb and felt him stir. The breath went out of him in a long sigh, and his body seemed to grow heavier, sinking into the mattress as he relaxed. His flesh was like candle wax in my hand, smooth and silky as it warmed. I felt very odd; no longer frightened, but with all my senses at once preternaturally acute and yet . . . peaceful. I was no longer conscious of any sounds save Jamie’s breathing and the beating of his heart; the darkness was filled with them. I had no conscious thought, but seemed to act purely by instinct, reaching down and under, seeking the heart of his heat in the center of his being.

Then I was moving—or we were moving together. One hand reached down between us, up between his legs, my fingertips on the spot just behind his testicles. My other hand reached over, around, moving with the same rhythm that flexed my thighs and lifted my hips, thrusting against him from behind. I could have done it forever, and felt that perhaps I did. I had no sense of time passing, only of a dreamy peace, and that slow, steady rhythm as we moved together in the dark. Somewhere, sometime, I felt a steady pulsing, first in the one hand, then in both. It melded with the beat of his heart. He sighed, long and deep, and I felt the air rush from my own lungs. We lay silent and passed gently into unconsciousness, together.

Cap 93 choices ~ THE FIERY CROSS

[gotham-ruaidh]

fic stats meme

I was tagged by @theawkwardterrier - thank you!

all of this is based on my AO3 stats...here we go:

most hits: Modern Glasgow AU - 96,873 hits

Imagine Claire and Jamie as a couple in present-day Glasgow

second most kudos: Shifted - 1,264 kudos

What if Claire had gotten pregnant with Brianna a month or two earlier in the story, and she and Jamie had re-evaluated their priorities and decided that the cause was lost, and they were able to slip away from the army and quietly return to Lallybroch?

third most bookmarks + fourth most comments: Let Us Not Talk Falsely Now - 248 bookmarks and 262 comments

Imagine if Jamie was a wounded soldier and Claire a combat nurse who met in a field hospital during the Vietnam War.

fifth most words: Truth to Triumph - 25,038 words

The General Slocum disaster in New York City's East River on June 15, 1904 claimed over 1,000 lives. Jamie Fraser is reporting on the tragedy for the New York World when he meets Dr. Claire Beauchamp as she tends to the survivors. In the aftermath they work together for justice - and find beauty in the ashes.

least words: half gone wi' drink - 45 words

Imagine a night on Fraser's ridge where both Claire and Jamie have had too much to drink

Tagging: @lady-o-ren @liusaidh-writing @flyinghome-againstthewind and anyone else who wants to participate! xo

[enchantcdstories]

A Sting in the Way You Kiss Me- Chapter 1

Read on A03

Word count: 2323

Tags: [See either the master post for this fic or the a03 page for full tags] Mention at being drugged (she's not), Aether x oc female, I'm just really too tired to write out the full tags here I'm so sorry THEY ARE THERE I PROMISE.

Fic Summary: Brianna Adams dreams of figuring her life out and possibly getting back out into the dating world, even if she is a bit hesitant. Maybe give tinder a try. What she wasn't expecting, however, was to be kidnapped from her apartment one night and bonded for life to a creature from the more darker realms of the universe. Chapter Summary: Brianna has a lot going on in her life, and it’s only going to get worse.

Brianna Adam’s body hurt like hell. It had been a long, exhaustive day full of rude customers and far too much physical labor for working at a department store. She swirled the drink around in her hand for what felt like the fifth time, watching the fruity alcoholic drink slosh around in her glass. Her sister watched her, worried features etched into her face. Brianna seemed to deflate as she took another sip, the cold liquid making her shoulders relax and her back straighten.

“Are you… positive you’re okay?” Isobel was only a few years older than her, but still worried around Brianna like a mother hen. She shared the same hair color as her sister, the same shocking red curls that, on Brianna, fell neatly down her back in a delicate braid. They shared the same brown eyes, the same heavily freckled complexion —people often mistook them for twins on good days.

“Me? Oh, yeah.” Brianna nodded, taking another sip of her drink, and fishing out the cherry from the bottom of her glass with a fork. “Work is just…work. You know how it is, Karens and what not.” She shrugged.

Looking around, Brianna noticed the bar was emptier than usual that night; the only waitress working was leaning against the counter, wiping the same spot as if she was trying to remove a stubborn stain. Isobel shifted in her seat, turning around to see what Brianna was looking at.

“You know why I asked you here tonight, right?” Her tone was soft and almost concerned. Brianna looked at her, setting her drink down and forgetting the cherry. Here we go, she thought. Another sibling-to-sibling lecture about something in her life that she was doing wrong.

“Now what?” Brianna stated, already dreading the answer. Isobel turned to her food, a basket of french fries sitting in a red and white wax paper basket.

“I’m just,” She paused. “You need to get out more. All you do is work and come home and then get ready to go back to work the next morning. You don’t have any sort of…I don’t know, social life? Maybe get back into the dating scene?” Isobel seemed to wince as she scooped up a fry and took a bite.

Brianna internally sighed. There it was. Her dating history hadn’t been extensive, varied yes, but not a long list of possible marriage candidates that really stood out to her. With work being exhausting and having no time outside of it, Brianna took a step back. She didn’t hate being single, she discovered. It was lonely, yes, but dating was work. It wasn’t easy. Brianna didn’t know if she was ready for that just yet. Besides, she thought, this was one of the prime spots in town to meet people, and the place was a ghost town.

“I’m starting to think that...” Brianna paused, looking for the right words. “I’m starting to think that maybe I’m just not…good at it? Maybe it’s just not for me.” She shrugged, turning back to trying to fish the cherry from the bottom of her glass out.

“You haven’t tried in months, though, right?”

Brianna stabbed the cherry and popped it into her mouth, savoring the sweet juice as it flooded her mouth. It was coated in vodka and sickly sweet. She waved the fork around, gesturing to the bar.

“It’s not like I have a lot of options.” She shrugged. “Not exactly a very fish-populated sea, if you know what I mean.” Brianna watched as Isobel shot her a look before turning back to her plate.

“There’s plenty of fish, we’re just right by a shark tank.” She mumbled. Brianna rose an eyebrow.

“Do you care to elaborate?”

“You know, the whole church thing down the street? People are freaked out by it so they…avoid this place.” The church she referred to wasn’t really a church, at least in the normal sense. No one went there for Sunday service, nor did anyone even talk about what kind of church it was. No one went near it or wanted to even acknowledge it was there. It was a clergy of dark proportions, Brianna had heard once, something to do with the dark arts and Satan. It was all rumors, of course, stories passed down from neighbour to neighbour. Rumors that circulated when people started going missing mysteriously. Darlene from down the street insisted that the clergy was kidnapping young adults for their cult, having sworn she saw the Devil himself selecting them by hand. Brianna didn’t buy a word of it.

“Those are just stories you tell around a campfire to scare kids. I’m twenty-five, I’m an adult.” She scoffed.

“It must be a little true. Why else are all those people going missing? There’s been what? Three in the past year?” Isobel looked behind her, as if scared someone was going to be listening to their conversation.

“I don’t know. Kidnappers? Murderers? Realistic things that aren’t evil churches?” Brianna brought her drink to her lips and drained it, feeling the sugar and alcohol burn down her throat in tandem. “You know, this isn’t exactly a great way to get me out into the dating world, if you’re so hyped up on that.”

Isobel looked down and nodded. She reached out a hand and gently put it on Brianna’s shoulder, her older sister look pulling across her face. Brianna hated that. Hated it when she started to mother her. The booze made her head swim a little— the room spinning for just a moment as she wondered just how much vodka was in it to begin with. She was becoming a lightweight now too.

“Look,” Brianna shook her head a bit, squinting her eyes at the dim bar lights before turning her attention to her sister. “How about I just take life one day at a time and if the time is right, I’ll get back out there. Compromise?” She blinked rapidly, her head starting to feel heavy on one side— like it was being almost…directed. Like she was supposed to be looking in one certain direction. How strong was this stuff, she though, staring at the empty glass. Maybe it had something in it? Her sister wouldn’t drug her, surely. She’d believe the church stories more than she’d believe that.

“Before your job kills you would be nice.” Isobel shrugged, though Brianna could barely focus on what her sister was doing. Blinking once more, Brianna slowly reached down for her bag that sat in a heap on the sticky bar floor. It was probably just a combination of her not being able to hold her alcohol and work, she thought.

“I should go.” Brianna said, standing up with a grunt as she put most of her weight on the table. Her sister stood up immediately, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing the bar stools back.

“Are you okay? You don’t look so good…if it was the conversation I—” Brianna waved her off, shaking her head. It only seemed to make the looming headache that pulled and tugged at her brain worse.

“No, no, I have uh…. I have a shift tomorrow, can’t be out too late.” She lied. Isobel seemed to suspect it as well. Pulling her bag on her shoulder, Brianna steadied herself long enough to stand up straight, the throbbing in her head making her wince.

“A-alright… I guess, just, text me when you get home?” Her sister dropped her grip from her arm and stood there, watching with concern. Brianna nodded.

“Of course, um, thank you for tonight.” She managed to mumble out, before she made her way to the exit. Home, she thought. Just had to get home.

☠

The further Brianna got away from the bar, the more her headache subsided. It must have been the alcohol, she thought, rubbing at her temples. The air was crisp and cold, a welcome feeling on her clammy skin. She’d have to cross liquor off her diet for the next few weeks, at least until her schedule calmed down. Bummer, she thought. It was nice to relax with a drink or two after a long day.

While the headache slowly ebbed away, a lingering feeling of something…else made her heart race. Someone was following her, watching her, she thought. Every time she tried to turn around, however, no one was there. Brianna walked home quicker, peering over her shoulder as she went.

“I’m losing it.” She mumbled. Pulling her bag tighter to her middle as she picked up her pace. For a moment, she thought her headache was coming back, the pulling feeling rearing its ugly head for just a second more before vanishing just as quickly.

☠

Home was a small apartment, barely able to contain the knick-knacks and clutter that Brianna called her belongings. It was warm and safe, and the most important part— headache free. Laying out her pajamas, Brianna planned her night meticulously. That night would be a self-care night, she decided. Something to treat herself just a bit. Warm, clean pajamas and a hot bath with a lavender bath bomb sounded like more than a rare treat— it sounded like pure luxury.

Everything was laid out and ready to go as Brianna hummed to herself around the apartment. She was just about to strip from her work uniform and lower herself into the steaming bath when a knock echoed through the otherwise silent rooms.

“Oh, come on…” Brianna grumbled. She slipped her shirt back on and marched to the front door, resisting the urge to rip the door open and yell at whoever it was that they were interrupting bath time. Standing on her tiptoes, Brianna peered through the peephole.

Odd, she thought, it wasn’t Halloween anymore.

Two figures, one female and one…well Brianna assumed was male, stood side by side— waiting for her to answer. The female wore a tight, unamused smile on her face as she looked up and down the hallway. She wore a sort of business type suit, something that made her look a little boxy, but professional. The male, on the other hand, wore more of a costume. An all-black looking suit with a chromed silver mask, representing some sort of demon, reflecting in the low lights of the apartment building hallway.

“Hello?” Brianna called through the door, keeping her eyes on them through the hole in the door. The figures seemed to snap to attention, turning to face the door. The man in the silver mask tilted his head in curiosity. Or menace. Brianna wasn’t sure which. The last thing she wanted to deal with after the day she had had was some crazy axe murderers cosplaying from the Purge. The woman’s displeased smile turned to one that was sweeter, though clearly fake for the sake of pleasantries.

“Miss Adams, I presume? I do have the correct address, yes?” Her voice was accented, though Brianna couldn’t pinpoint as to where it was from. Regardless, she didn’t know this woman, nor did she know how this woman knew her.

“Do I know you?” Brianna winced. Of course she doesn’t know her, what kind of question was that? This was how horror movies started, and so far, she was on the right track to being the first victim. The woman’s smile seemed to creep up her face more as she turned to her companion, the man in the silver mask emotionless.

“You do not, dear child, but I know you.”

Brianna pushed herself away from the door, staring at the peep hole as she took a few shaky steps back. Before she had been joking about the horror movie thing, but now? Now this was suddenly real. She patted her pockets for her phone, heart racing and her brain buzzing as she whipped around frantically, searching every available counter space for it. Her room, she realized, socked feet barely able to gain traction as she rummaged around her apartment.

A knock on the door made her look up, eyes wide in fear. She could feel her heart practically knocking back, beating so loud that she couldn’t hear what the woman was calling out to her from the other side of the door. Where was that stupid phone, she screamed inside her head. Maybe she’d stand a chance if she could at least call the cops. Then it hit her, the image of the phone lying on her bedside table just down the hallway.

Racing to the room, Brianna heard a commotion from behind her, her braided hair smacking her in the face as she spun around. A shoulder hitting the door thundered through her apartment, before the door finally groaned and gave way. The nerve of them, Brianna thought. She spun back around, throwing herself inside her bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her, moving to the cellphone that was plugged into its charger on the night table. Her fingers fumbled against the screen, shaking hands trying their best to call the police before she met her end. Nine…one—

“They never seem to make it easy, do they?”

The woman’s voice seemed bored and nonchalant, like the task at hand was a chore. Was Brianna’s death going to be that quick? That boring, maybe? Did her life mean that little? She turned around, facing the woman and the silver masked man. This is it, she thought. This is where the horror movie’s opening credits usually start. She’d be credited as ‘women victim 1’ and would be just a plot point to kick things off. How lame it was to be a plot point, Brianna thought.

The woman made a gesture with her hands, something between a mix of a shrug and a direct point, before the silver masked figure moved into action. He nodded and with his hands behind his back, took a step towards Brianna.

Then the world went dark.

[renee-writer]

I Loved Her First Chapter 13 A Slight Misunderstanding

AO3

“Sooo now that we have settled everything, well settled it as well as it will be, do you mind if I go to town to get some school items?”

“No, just be sure to drive carefully.”

“I will.” She pressed a kiss to her Papa’s cheek and gathered her papers. 

Jamie dismissed his daughter and groaned as he sat down in the chair once she was gone.

He looked at Claire with a slight smirk on his face.

“So, was this type of thing normal in your time Sassenach?”

Claire sat down in his lap and kissed his lips gently.

“Not at all, there were jokes about it, but no one really thought that…” She shrugged.

“Honestly Jamie, they seem to like each other. Ian hasn’t asked to court her yet, so maybe we just let this be for now, see how it plays out.”

He said nothing for a moment and then nuzzled her neck.

“I saw them. Outside the window, the way he had his hands on her, very improper, I decided Ian bore watching. But I didna even consider Faith.”

Claire smiled and kissed his lips. “Sometimes it’s the quiet ones.

He puffed out a breath and looked at Claire, some pain in his eyes.

“I just got her back, I didna think I would lose her so soon.”

“Well, we haven’t lost her at all yet. She is not getting married next Tuesday, and Ian hasn’t even asked to court her yet. You’re not going to put a gun in his back to walk him down the aisle, are you?”

Jamie was silent for a long moment.

Claire tilted his head up. “Jamie…”

“No, no of course not.”

“Then don’t worry.” She pecked his lips gently, once twice, and then deepened it.

They were in that position when the door opened.

“So here you two are! Ye spent the night rutting like two wild beasts, no caring if the whole house heard ye! And then didna even decide to show your faces at breakfast!”

The pair broke the kiss and looked up at an irritated Jenny.

Claire rubbed her hand on her kiss swollen lips.

“Ahem, Morning Jenny.”

“Morning?! It’s nearly dinner!”

Jamie shifted his wife so he could see his sister. “Is there a reason you are shouting so Mrs. Murray?”

Jenny narrowed her gaze at him. “Very funny James. I sent Jeremiah and Brianna berry picking. Mrs. Crook wants to make Cranachan for after dinner. Faith went to town; I told her to take a companion. She said she already had one selected, but thanked me.”

Jamie stood up so fast Claire spilled out of his lap like a sack of potatoes.

“Ye did what?”

“A young woman shouldna be traveling to Inverness alone ye ken.”

Jamie didn’t even let Jenny finish the sentence, before he was running out of the Laird’s Study.

Jenny looked at Claire and helped her to her feet.

“What on Earth?”

Claire huffed out a breath. “Sit down Jenny, we have to talk.”

 

Faith held the reins in her hands, the horses that were harnessed to the cart were very gentle. Her Uncle Ian had selected them for her, saying that Posy and Rose would get her to Inverness just fine.

She looked over at her companion and smiled.

“Thank you for accompanying me.”

Her companion smiled sweetly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

She smiled and pressed a playful kiss to his cheek.

“You are going to be very helpful with getting supplies.”

“I don’t know if I can carry everything.”

“Well, you don’t need to really carry-”

The rest of her words were cut off by the sound of loud hoofbeats, and then a loud thump.

Faith shrieked; her companion grabbed her arm trying to steady her as she got the horses to the side of the road.

She turned around and looked in the back of the wagon, half expecting to see a mountain lion or a bear.

Instead, it was her Father.

“Daddy! What the h-heck! What are you doing?”

“I came to stop him, yer going to town. Ye could get married! I had to stop ye-”

He looked up, expecting to see Ian’s eyes on him, but it was the dark eyes of Michael.

“Michael?! You brought Michael?”

“Well, I- y-yes. I needed the size of his hands to measure the items I need to get the younger children. For the older kids I can use my own hands…I-”

Her voice trailed off as her Father got to his feet and hopped out of the wagon to fetch the Horse.

He bowed to the pair politely, got back on the Horse, and road back toward Lallybroch.

Faith said nothing for a full 10 seconds before she sighed.

“That was weird.”

Michael nodded, his eyes wide.

Faith clicked her tongue to get the horses moving.

“Well, either way we have to get to town.”

“Aye Faith.”

 

“So that’s the gist of it.”

Jenny stared at Claire, her mouth hanging open.

“I-”

“I know this was not what you were expecting, but as I told Jamie, we should see how this works out. They may not end up being interested in each other.”

Jenny rubbed her hands together and stood up to pace.

She looked out the window and puffed out a breath.

“I agree with you.”

Claire was surprised by this omission.

“Really?”

Jenny nodded. “Aye. Tis not common, but it has been done. And, you are right. We don’t know what they want. Shall we cross each bridge?”

Claire smiled.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

The pair hugged and Jenny smiled.

“If your daughter hurts my son, I will kill her.”

Claire smirked. “Same.” 

[awritingcaitlin]

Find the Word!

I was tagged by @mjjune!

My words are: forever, find, food, finger, flick

I'll be tagging @carrotblr, @legiomiam, @juls-writes, @pinespittinink, and @sentfromwolves for the words: total, table, thought, time, twitch

Enjoy some snippets from Relic of the Gods (ViolinHeist)!

FLICK

“What’s the total cost going to be today?” Lelia asked.

“’Bout eighty silver I think, is the monthly gamut without any of the pre-dosed stuff,” Brianna said.

Lelia nodded and shifted to get to her money pouch. “Sounds about right.” She flicked through the coins and realized she didn’t have enough heavy silver to get her up to eighty. “I don’t have it on me,” she said, biting her lip. “But if you write the invoice, I’ll go to the bank and pull that out and pay for it by the time you get it all done.”

Brianna closed Lelia’s folder. “Sounds good dear.”

.

FOREVER

Laundry took up the rest of her afternoon but at least the chore was done. Of course, it was only after she’d gone to the nearby laundromat that Mama Cass told her she could’ve used The Tipsy Tom’s laundry services. Then again, Lelia hadn’t asked before she’d headed out either, rather she’d asked Riela where the nearest laundromat was – and had received precisely that answer.

Once everything was neatly put away again, she went back down to the dining room to see about some dinner and if she maybe could get the chance to play again. She didn’t want to stay at The Tipsy Tom forever, but that was the next step of the process.

She went downstairs, bringing her violin just in case, to save herself the trip of going back upstairs later. As she came down, she saw Ronan in the crowd, sitting at one of the tables along the sides, one designed to sit closer to eight people. He was there with Em, and three people she didn’t recognize. One was a brunette man with a well-tailored coat. The other two were a man and woman with straw-blonde hair and were likely siblings based on their hair color and build alone.

.

FIND

That thought in mind, she reached out telepathically, trying to find Izzy if she was close.

Telepathy worked best when you knew where the other person was. But technically, so long as they were close enough, you could start the connection – if you could find their aura in the midst of everything else. Crowds obviously made things harder, so did spans of water. But familial bonds made it easier.

She found the pull of Izzy’s aura and pressed against it, asking for attention. There was a point in history where she could have shown up in Izzy’s head completely unannounced, but they were younger then, closer.

Hey, what’s up? Izzy asked.

I was about to ask the same question, Lelia said. I’m, um, I’m in town this afternoon.

Oh no shit! I’m not up to anything beyond doing some reading for one of my upcoming classes, I can totally drop that. I’m guessing you don’t want to come by the house, so where should I meet you?

I’m at Berthingtonn U. Maybe that sandwich place we both like?

Sure! I’ll head right over.

.

FOOD

It would be very easy to get lost in this crowd. Which was good.

Lelia meandered in the direction of food, the lines for that were particularly long, but it wasn’t like they needed to be doing anything beyond kill time at this point. Em just kept cataloguing as they did.

No two fancy dresses were alike. Even the suits were different in some manner or form, with different colors, accents, and cuts. A couple of Timernans were wearing kilts and Em wondered if they were hired guards for someone or just happened to be paying respects to Shierdi that night. She knew for a fact Ronan had not chosen to wear a kilt for the occasion, since he’d wanted to be in on the nabbing. Kilts stood out.

Lelia got a plate of food and waited until they’d moved away from the serving tables to roll her eyes and scoff.

“So not worth the money,” she murmured. “Dainty finger sandwiches never are.”

.

FINGER

The drive back to South Town was eerily silent. They weren’t stopped going out of the gate, merely waved through. Em found her breath came easier once they were through the checkpoint, and she saw the longer-than-usual exhale from Vinny that was a disguised sigh of relief.

Jacques and Verity both looked cool and collected in the front seat. Without seeing their faces, Em was also unable to see their imperceptible tells of relaxing as they drove the streets of South Town.

Ronan seemed to get giddier. He kept looking at the violin case next to Em, his fingers twitching as if he were opening it in his mind.

“Time to change over,” Em said, reaching under her seat where she’d stashed a bag with changes of clothes for everyone in it. They didn’t need to be waltzing into a South Town tavern looking like they’d just come from a high-society event.

Em grimaced as she saw Lelia’s bundle, but she set them aside as she reached for the other clothes.