#Gunpowder and Lead

[dakotakazansky]

Meet Atlas Blake

Notes: This goes along with a series currently being written by @mayhemmanaged and @cassiemitchell!

Update 01/31/2024: This fic belongs to an alternative timeline of a fic that is currently being rewritten by the original authors. ATLAS’ CHARACTER IS MY OWN AND I REFUSE TO DELETE MY HARD WORK

INTRODUCING:

Atlas Blake aka Loki

“Atlas Blake!” I hear my name called, and I release the hand of my long time high school sweetheart, looking over and smiling at Bradley before walking up the stage to receive my Masters of Law Degree. I hear the loud screaming from Emory, Birdie, and Bradley. My ride or die, the people I would do anything for. I remember the day I met Emory vividly.

—

I had just finished getting a scumbag placed into Jail for a year, due to a domestic dispute. The poor girl looked better now, but the photos I saw as evidence had her looking pretty rough.

It was a few weeks later and I’m sitting in the coffee shop near campus, drinking on a Caramel Macchiato, and studying to pass the next exam in the class to then move on to the next BAR exam, for my Masters of Law. I was having a hard time focusing though, some guy was trying to entice a woman to get with him. I’m sure the words falling out of his mouth were more on the crude side than the actual complementing side.

When he started to lay hands on her, and I noticed her flinching, was when I had had enough of this guy’s tomfoolery. I slammed my book shut, closed my laptop gently, and strided over to the two of them. I grabbed the guy by the shoulder and pulled him around to face me. “Now I know I have heard this pretty lady here tell you no more than once, so listen here buddy, I know about a thousand and one or more ways to get you served with a restraining order. Once again the lady said no, so I suggest you get moving before I start drafting an order up. Do you hear me?!” I say powerfully through gritted teeth.

The poor excuse for a man mutters something about being a bitch, and I just laugh it off. It's not the first time I’d heard that, and as a woman going for throats in law, I for damn well know it won’t be the last time. I nodded to the woman, glad to finally have the peace and quiet restored to the coffee shop, and I turned to head back to my table.

“Hey wait a moment?” I hear her say, “You’re one of the people that was on my defense team.” When I finally and fully get a good look at her, I recognize her from the trial that I had just done and internship on. I nod back to her. “I’m Atlas Blake, most call me Blake though.” She reaches a hand out to me, “I’m Emory. I’m so grateful for you and your team, and what you guys pulled off for me.”

I take her hand in mine, shaking it. “I’m just disappointed they only gave him a year, we had him set up for quite a few actually. Anyways, I’m glad that guy isn’t bothering you anymore, I’m just going to head back over there” I say pointing to my stuff, “and continue studying. It was really nice to meet you.”

“Hey Blake, would you mind actually sitting over here with me? My friend Birdie is running a little behind, and I’d love it if you'd sit with me until she got here.” Emory said. I nodded, “Yeah, just let me gather up my stuff really quickly.” I packed up my table, threw away my wrapper from my snack earlier, and grabbed my coffee and made my way back over to Emory. I sat down with her, and we just started talking. Once her friend Birdie got there, she introduced us, and we all sat there together just chatting away. She mentioned they were in school to get their MBAs and I told them how I already had my Juris Doctor and was currently finishing school to finally get my Masters of Law. Something about the three of us just clicked, and from that day we were thick as thieves, you could hardly separate us.

—

Now that the semester was finally over, I was set to take up Co-Ownership of Cora’s with Emory and Birdie. I was also in the process of opening my own law firm. I wanted to now represent and fight for broken and battered women and children. If they can't have a voice for themselves, then I’ll become their voice, and so I did as such. Whenever someone came in asking for a pomegranate scone, that’s when I knew it was go time.

Bradley was now a Lieutenant with the Task force out of the Austin PD department. He had started to hear about these vigilantes taking down men before PD could even get to them. When he started to bring it up at home that’s when I knew they were going to be on our trail soon enough.

The following day while in The Underworld with Emory and Birdie, I had mentioned how Bradley had brought up the vigilantes. “Hey has Bob, or Jake brought anything up recently, Bradley’s been rambling on about the ‘Vigilantes’ in the area. Should I tell him? I mean it would be a good thing if he knows right? Y’know having a cop on our side in case things go left?” I say questioning Emory and Birdie.

“Well, I mean Bobby knows.” Birdie squeaks out just loud enough for the two of us to hear.

“EXCUSE ME?!” Emory all but comes unglued.

“Em, you KNOW I get a little looser-lipped after tequila and an orgasm or two.” Bridie says as Em, nods slightly tilting her head to the side.I scrub my face, at the obvious truth tumbling out of Birdie’s mouth.

“Jesus, yes I do. Thank fuck you’re already married and can claim spousal privilege though.” Em retorts back to Birdie.

“I think it’s about time I start drafting up NDAs and we have the guys sign them.” I say to the others.

“Oh Loki, you know Bobby won’t spill. I told him if he narced on us he’d be castrated on sight. So you know we are good there!” Birdie comments, and I chuckle at her ‘castrated on sight’ comment.

“I sure hope you’re right there Birdie, but unlike Bobby, Bradley ain’t all THAT scared of us. The man knows I love him and his dick too much to let anything of the sorts happen to it. Shit he knows I’d draft up an insurance policy for it!” The room filled with the laughter of the three of us, everyone knowing the truth in that statement.

—

Later that night, I’ve finally gotten the full NDA written up and printed out, and placed into a portfolio. It’s sitting on the coffee table, dinner is on the stove keeping warm, and I’m sitting on the couch with a glass of wine, watching tv until Bradley gets home. About 30 minutes later Bradley strolls in. “Attie, it smells so good in here!” I chuckle and get up to greet him, placing a tender kiss to his lips, as my arms snake around his neck. “I made your favorite dinner bubs.” He groans knowing that it’s my Grandma’s secret family recipe for Chicken and Dumplings.

We dug into dinner, Bradley apparently was too busy today to eat lunch, so he brought his appetite home. It was a really good thing I made his favorite, hopefully this will butter him up to not explode when I tell him the news that not only am I part of The Furies, I’m also actually one of the Fates.

“How was your day at work bubs?” I ask, trying to pry at what Bradley may know.

“Well we’ve heard more about this vigilante group, apparently they are called the Furies. But honestly I think whoever is in this must be some kind of maniac. The way we keep finding these men, but not the attackers. They are meticulous, doing very well from leaving any sort of DNA on scene. Definitely a thorough person or bunch.”

I chew on my lip listening to Bradley talk about work and the Furies while I clean up our dishes from dinner and he takes a spot on the couch, queueing up a movie for us to watch. He spots the portfolio laying on the coffee table. “Attie, is this something for work?” I finish the dishes and turn to see what he’s referring to.

“Oh uh, kind of but not really bubs.” I make my way over picking up the portfolio and setting it in my lap. “We uh, actually need to talk about this bubs.”

He lifts up his arm for me to snuggle into his side, and then wraps his strong arm around me, embracing me in his warmth. “Bubs, I think it’s time you sign these papers.”

He places a soft kiss on my temple before asking, “Are you finally going to marry me, and this is a prenup?” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas for a moment.

I shake my head no to him, “Bubs, can you just sign them, and then we can talk about it?”

He looks at me bewildered, that I would even ask him to sign these papers blindly. “Attie, honey, I’m dating a Lawyer, I know the first thing to do is read this, ask questions and then sign it.”

“Bubs please. Just sign them. Plus you’re a cop. You know all about doing whatever you need to do to get the task done, to get what you want.” I quipped back to him.

He sighs, and skims the document, and then signs it. “Thank you bubs. I love you.” I take back the portfolio, before he can do anything else to it. “What you just signed was an NDA, because I have something really big to tell you bubs.” I can tell the nerves are written all over my face, I can feel my skin crawling.

“Attie Honey, no matter what you tell me, I’m still going to love you regardless.” He says trying to calm my nerves and rubs my arms softly.

I sigh, “Bubs, you promise you’ll still want to marry me eventually too?” I give him the puppy dog eyes that I know he can’t resist.

“Of course Honey, nothing would ever change that, you’re the woman of my dreams, my high school sweetheart, hopefully the mother to my children one day.” He places a tender kiss on my cheek.

“Bubs, the NDA is about me. I’m not only one of the Furies, I’m also a Fate. So is Emory, and Birdie. We could stand to see women and children being harmed, or battered, or neglected. And let’s be honest, we all know how long it takes PD to get anything done around there, you said it yourself last week, they were dragging their feet.” I rambled on, a little longer while Bradley just listened.

“Attie, who else knows?” was all that he questioned. “Bob, and now you do too. I plan to find out who else knows, or plans on telling their significant others and getting them the same NDA you just signed.”

He nods, “Attie, this doesn’t change a thing for us, the only thing I want more than anything now is that you marry me. That way should something happen to you, I get notified immediately, that I’m your next of kin, and you for me.” He says holding me tightly.

I nod, “Of course I’ll marry you Bradley, whenever you want. Buuut first…" I trail off, and he finished where I left off, “I have to sign the damn prenup.” We both chuckle before agreeing to head to bed for the night.

Taglist:

@startrekfangirl2233 @desert-fern @roostette @sarahsmi13s @lavenderbradshaw @lovinglyeternal @bradleybeachbabe @thedroneranger @cherrycola27 @twsssmlmaa @bobby-r2d2-floyd @that-one-random-writer @horseshoegirl @footprintsinthesxnd @genius2050 @djs8891

[newton8]

In 19x16 Owen told Yasuda not to leave without Amelia cause she's the only one who can help on his case, he truly believes in her ability as neurosurgeon 🥹

[ironykins]

I'm goin' home, gonna load my shotgun Wait by the door, and light a cigarette If he wants a fight, well, now he's got one And he ain't seen me crazy yet

[zadabug98]

The only good country music made after 9/11 is the girlies who realized they can shoot shitty men and the men who realized if they’re genuinely shitty their women will shoot them.

[lyrics-that-i-like]

november 7, 2024

“his fist is big but my gun’s bigger”

-gunpowder and lead, miranda lambert

— — — —

i fear i’m just obsessed with this line. nothing else gets energy like this. gunpowder and lead absolute TOP of the cuntry playlist.

[serendipity-reborn]

I feel like you can tell Miranda Lambert was my favorite when I was little

[jeddara-of-jasoom]

From Independence Day to Blown Away, country music has long had a streak of women getting justice against their abusers

And that's beautiful

[cxrrodedcoffin]

i don’t listen to country music unless it’s about committing first degree murder against men

[fuck-john-calvin]

no idea why stick season makes me think of Tim and Bertie but here we are

[texaschainsawmascara]

Cause baby, if you fuck me over I'll make sure that you can't do it again

Beautiful & Bad - Nicole Dollanganger / Shelby Wall - Ethel Cain / Gunpowder & Lead - Miranda Lambert

[dakotakazansky]

Holy hell Star! I fucking adore this so much!

Gunpowder & Lead

Series Pairing: Emory & Jake Seresin

Series Warnings: violence, description of domestic assault (prologue only), mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of crimes against women, revenge plots, boss babes kicking ass, (eventual) smut

Blurb Pairing: OC Nadia "Nova" Garcia and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

Blurb Warnings: violence, domestic assault, mentions of poisoning, mentions of murder

A/N: I wrote this to go along with a series currently being written by @mayhemmanaged and @cassiemitchell called Gunpowder & Lead!

May’s Masterlist Cassie’s Masterlist

INTRODUCING:

Nadia Garcia aka Nova

It’s just past noon on a sleepy Wednesday in Austin, Texas. The afternoon sun beats hot against my face. I grab onto the hood shrouding my features and tug it up a bit higher to make sure nobody can see me. You see, I’m not supposed to be here. The only reason why I am is the baby boy in the carrier strapped to my front. Alex. My son and the only good thing I have in my life. 

So why am I standing in front of a tiny flower shop named Hera's Orchard in one of Austin’s winding streets of small businesses with my baby in my arms and everything important to me in a bag at my side? There's a rumor, a rumor floating around on the dark web talking about this place. Rumor says that if you walk in and ask if they have any asphodel in the back, they'll help you, no questions asked.

I inhale deeply, trying to breathe despite my bruised, aching ribs and broken nose. I have to do this. For Alex, there's nothing I wouldn't do. I can take any and everything Arthur, my husband, lays on me. But the minute he turned his hand on our son, I'd had enough. The bruised ribs and broken nose, they're what I'd gotten for standing in his way. They're also the final straw. The tiny bell above the door jingles and as I walk in, the humid air stinks of soil and the heady perfume of the thousands of blooming flowers lining the walls. I feel a little bit like I've walked into a jungle. But automatically, instantly, it feels a bit easier to breathe.

Alex seems to like being in Hera's Orchard too, his chubby little hands grasping for the bright colors he can see even as his big eyes go wide at the onslaught of new sensations. I cuddle him closer, kissing his downy head before boldly forging my way to the counter I can see in the back.

There's a sign on the petal strewn countertop, proclaiming, "Ring the Bell for Service! Someone will be out shortly!" Right beside the sign is a bronze bell, like the kind they have on hotel concierge counters. I press it just once, and then have to drag a few petals from Alex's little fingers. If I hadn't caught them, they would've gone right into his mouth.

"Buddy. Alex! No, honey. Those do not go in your mouth." My son is ever vocal, babbling very seriously back at me. I'm having an oh, so serious conversation with my baby when an amused mock cough catches my attention. While I was conversing with Alex, someone walked out from the back and came to stand behind the counter. 

She's beautiful, her shoulder length brown hair is tied up into a knot at the back of her head and green eyes bore right through me. She's small and slight, but when she folds her arms across her chest, the muscles bulge with hidden strength.

"Hi, welcome to Hera's Orchard. I'm Fern, how can I help you today?" I can't hide my nerves as I slide the hood off, finally revealing my face to Fern. Her piercing eyes soften, seeing the bruises rising up vividly across my face.

"Hi, Fern. I'm Nadia," I make Alex wave with his little hand, "and this little guy is Alex. I read online that you just got a shipment of some rare asphodels into the store? I was hoping to purchase one as a gift." My throat is dry as I catalog the expression on her face. Fern's serious and stern. The sweet, slightly goofy grin she'd leveled at Alex just moments before is gone.

"Come with me." I grab my bag and follow her into the back. "Hey Charlie! Can you take over in the front? I've got a consult on a custom flower arrangement here!"

Charlie, a teenage boy, thin and gangly with the wildest curls I’ve ever seen, levels Fern with a lovestruck expression before walking out to man the counter. I know what he's so struck by. Have you ever been in a room with someone and been captivated by them? That's Fern's energy, from head to toe. I follow her into a small, plant covered office. Just as we sit down, Alex begins whimpering and gumming at my fingers.

"Sorry, he's hungry. D'you mind if I nurse him while we chat?" I can't believe I'm asking a stranger this question. Arthur would cut me down on the spot if he knew. Per his rules, babies are to be bottle fed only when other people are present.

"Of course. Feed the little guy. Take your time. I take my custom arrangement consultations very seriously." Her smile is soft as I situate Alex at my breast, heaving in as deep a breath as I am able as he begins to nurse hungrily. 

"Now that he's eating, do you want to tell me a little bit about the person you'd like to gift this special arrangement to?" Fern's got a little sketchpad in front of her and she begins to sketch bloom after bright bloom as I explain what I'm looking for.

"So, you're looking for an arrangement that is subtle and beautiful to gift your husband?" There's something dangerous in Fern's eyes as she uses a knife to cut the sketch free and hand it to me.

"Yes.” I trace over the thin wispy lines of the sketch, before murmuring, “This is beautiful. How soon can you have it ready?" 

I can't believe I'm doing this. Can I poison my husband? That’s the catch about Hera’s Orchard. It is a flower shop, one that has rave reviews and an ever growing list of clientele, but it’s true clientele is a bit shadier than housewives who want a fresh bouquet for their dinner table. ‘Asphodel’ is the key word in those situations. 

"Come with me." Rather than answer my question, she leads me to a small doorway in the back of the shop. She unlocks it with a key and grabs my bag. With Alex in my arms, I walk through the door, pausing only so Fern can latch the door behind us. Fern stops at the end of the passageway, knocking on the door. A small window opens, looking us over before the door opens and we're let through. 

"This, Nadia, is the Underworld. This is Persephone and Songbird. They run this place and are my closest friends." The women I see arrayed before me are beautiful and strong. Are they the salvation I've been looking for? Can they save Alex, and by extension me, from more suffering?

"Hey, Bruiser!" It's Persephone, her tone musical even as she wiggles her fingers at Alex. "What's up, Buttercup?"

"Seriously, Seph?" Fern's disgust at the nickname is palpable but I can tell it's a play at disgust more than the real deal. "This is Nadia Wilson. She walked into the Orchard looking for an asphodel."

Those seem to be the magic words. Before I can blink, I'm pulled to a table with Fern on my right and both of the other women in the room seated before me.

"I'm Persephone," Her voice is soft as she looks at me with Alex snoozing in his baby bjorn after his lunch. "Bruiser mentioned that you needed some help?"

At my confused look, she's quick to assure me, "Hey, you can talk openly here. We've got the entire Underworld locked down. Nothing leaves this room. I can assure you of that fact. We got the best hacker we know to build our anti surveillance gear."

As much as that intrigues me, if only because I just built an anti-surveillance setup myself,  I desperately need their help more. So I let the whole tale spill. How I emigrated to Texas as a young girl and taught myself how to code. How I'd fallen in love with the green beauty of the city and the hills surrounding it. But sadly that wasn’t all I’d fallen in love with. Arthur Wilson had swept me off of my feet. He seemed like a gorgeous man who had money and seemed to adore everything about me. So I hadn't hesitated when he asked me to marry him.

"Alex," you explain to the women, "is the only reason why I’ve stayed in my marriage for as long as I have." 

My breathing is ragged as I stare at the wall behind their heads. "Arthur, my husband, has hated Alex since before he was born. My husband hated how my body changed with the baby. He hates how I'm not back to my pre-baby weight or body type yet. So he takes it out on me." 

"At first it was just with his words. A probing comment here, a harsh word there. Then he started hitting me. I worked so damn hard to lose weight, to go back to what I looked like before, and it still wasn't enough. He's been hitting me more and more frequently."

"Then to top it all off, there is something else too. He's been cheating on me, I know he has. I've found red hairs on his clothes and he stinks of a perfume that's not what he buys me and insists I wear. But I could stand all of that. Last night, he tried to hit Alex. He's only three months old!" Your voice breaks and a tear slips down your cheek as you sob the words out. "He's just a baby, after all. Babies cry!"

"I can't let him hurt my baby. I can't live like this. Not anymore. Please help me. Please." My broken tones echo in the room around me as I make pleading eye contact with Persephone and Songbird in turn.

"Of course we'll help you, sweetheart! We're the Furies. It's what we do." I can't help my sobs as I let myself fall apart at their words.

3 weeks later

I wasn’t sure what to expect as the outcome from that first meeting at the Underworld, not at all. But whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t this. It’s 3 AM and red and blue lights blanket the front lawn of the suburban home I shared with my husband up until a few hours ago. That’s when I’d come downstairs with Alex in my arms and found Arthur and his newest side-piece, the red-head whose hairs I’d noticed on his suits, dead on the lounge chair in his study in various stages of undress. Like any dutiful wife, I’d screamed until our housekeeper found me and stayed by her side until the police arrived.

My pain and fear are all too real. Since I met with Persephone, Songbird, and Bruiser, it seems like Arthur turned all of his attention on me. I’ve been under a microscope ever since. He’s added a potentially broken wrist, two black eyes and a twisted ankle to the broken nose and bruised ribs I had the day I’d left Hera’s Orchard with a gorgeous flower arrangement under my arm. So the tears I cry as I clutch Alex to my chest in front of the sweetest Police Sergeant I’ve ever met are real. His face has been continually distressed since he first found me and I can’t believe how good he makes me feel.

“Sergeant Mickey Garcia,” he’d said, smiling at me as I tried to settle Alex from when the baby had been startled awake at the sirens of what seemed like the entirety of the Austin Police Department spilled onto our front lawn. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

I’d stammered back my own greetings and let him lead me into the kitchen.

“C-can you tell me what happened?” He’d blushed crimson when I tried nursing Alex to get him to settle down. His face had only grown more and more serious the more I spoke. I found myself spilling the entire tale to him, captivated by the curls spilling over his forehead. 

“Sergeant Garcia,” his superior, a man with arresting green eyes and dark blonde hair calls Mickey over to him. All night I’ve been getting appraising looks from the men of APD. Either I look like shit with a squalling baby in my arms or they’re trying to figure out if I have the courage to turn black widow on one of the Police Department’s biggest donors. I do, but they won’t ever know. I look like a beaten down, broken woman, but I’m far from it. I’m a professional woman. I build custom computers and security protocols for corporations around the world. It’s my true passion and calling, one which Arthur had never cared to know about.

As Mickey briefs his superiors, the looks I get go from being evaluating to pitying. I know I look a sight, bruises turning blue and green on my tan skin and with bags so dark under my eyes they’re purple. Add to that my pajamas, bedhead, and a squalling baby and I’ve successfully slipped under APD’s radar. They’re sure to have pulled the security footage, the footage my paranoid husband always had recording, by now, the footage which shows me asleep in my bed or sleep-walking to Alex’s room when my collicky baby wakes me up in the middle of the night. Alex is a sleeping weight against my chest before Sergeant Garcia walks back to me.

“We’re going to get you into an ambulance Mrs.Wilson and get you and Alex to the hospital and check out. If you’d like, we can call someone to come stay with you while you’re there and who can take care of Alex while we wait?” His voice sounds like sex and smoke. Were I not so recently a widow and not so injured to boot, I would have jumped him on the spot.

“Yes, I have someone I can call. I’d like to change and grab a bag for Alex if I can first though?” At his nod, I limp my way upstairs, putting together a bag for Alex before handing the Sergeant both the bag and Alex at his insistence. Arthur never once held Alex like that. When I step out of the bedroom in a pair of jeans and t-shirt, Alex is happily drooling against Sergeant Garcia’s chest and he looks too comfortable for this to be the first time he’s holding a baby.

“Wow.” My voice is quiet. “This is not the first time you’ve held a baby, is it Sergeant?”

His chuckle is bashful and shy. “No, actually. My sister in Miami has three kids. I’ve held them all.”

“D’you have any babies of your own, Sergeant?” I don’t know why I’m asking that question, not now of all times.

“No, I don’t. But I’ve always wanted to.” He clears his throat before helping you into the ambulance and handing Alex to you. “Now let’s get you in touch with who you wanted to call. Who’d you like to call?”

My voice is all fire as I say, “Attie Blake. She’s a friend and my lawyer.”

4 months later

Arthur’s sister and mother had put up a perfunctory fuss when they found out he was dead, accusing me of murdering him and any other depraved things that came to his mind. They even tried to sue me. But even their high paid team of lawyers couldn’t stand up to Atlas Blake. With Attie’s help, I managed to win the case and secure all of Arthur Wilson’s fortune into a trust fund for his son. Mickey’s been by my side ever since as well. It was almost too easy to fall in love with him. Especially when I saw how easy it was for him to accept Alex as a part of the package deal. Mickey helped me scope out the location so I could buy the small shop near Hera’s Orchard which I made into a net-cafe and officially introduced me to Birdie Floyd and Emory Seresin, who I only knew so far as Songbird and Persephone.

Since then, my life has never been better. The Furies are the closest friends I have, and the shop, named Daedalus’ Automata, is the perfect place for me to do my thing. What’s my thing, you ask? Before my marriage, before Arthur demanded a trophy wife, I was in cyber security. Give me any network and a computer and I could tell you how secure the network is and at least four ways that I could make it better. I also make custom computers and anti-surveillance hardware. It’s how I continued making money under Arthur’s nose. Now, it’s how I’ve been paying back the Furies for helping me. I keep any mentions of the Furies out of the internet and away from the Task Force’s attention. The best part is how Mickey doesn’t care when I come home smelling like grease with Alex in my arms. How I wish I’d met Miguel Garcia first. 

It’s late when I stagger through the front door late on a Friday night. It’s date night and I’m so late that I’m sure any excuses I have will be flimsy at best. Mickey had grabbed Alex from Daedalus when he got off of his shift, so I don’t have the baby with me when I walk through the door. The entire house is filled with the most delicious scent, and as I look at my watch, I know I’m at least an hour late for dinner.

“Mickey?” My voice is soft as I toe my shoes off and walk through the house. “I’m sorry I’m late, vida. I had this absolute wreck of a computer get dropped off for repairs.” In part that’s true, I did have a wreck of a computer dropped off for repairs. But that’s not why I’m late. The Furies were running an op tonight, one for which I was on comms, making sure my girls were safe as they were running around doing what they do best. I walk through the kitchen, my heart dropping at the sight of the candles on the dining table, the wax nearly melted away.

“Mickey?” My voice drops to a whisper when I walk into the study and see all of my computer screens fired up, filling the entire room with their cool blue light. On the screen flash three dossiers, my own, Fern’s and Ranger’s in addition to the blueprints for the facility we hit tonight. It was a strict information gathering op, but so important. How could I have been so stupid that I hadn’t locked that information down before I left this morning?

“I think you’ve got some explaining to do, amor.” I’ve never heard Mickey sound so serious. “I love you, and I promise I’m not angry, just worried. Tell me what’s going on.”

I can’t resist melting into his embrace, inhaling the musky warm scent of his cologne as he squeezes me tight.

“I love you, Miguel. I just need to have you sign something first. Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.” Then I reach for my phone and speed dial Attie. 

“Hey Attie, I’m going to need an NDA here.” I can’t help looking at Mickey over the next half an hour we wait in the kitchen. I’m puttering around nervously, barely able to stomach the stew Mickey made while I finished up at the shop. Mickey’s not much better. He eats too, but he keeps stealing these searching glances of me, and the tension enveloping our small kitchen is nearly too much to bear. He tries to speak a few times but each time, stops short. I can’t help wondering what this means for us, for Alex who already has heard us both refer to Mickey as dad or daddy.

It’s the doorbell ringing which startles me out of the pensive way I’ve been glancing into Mickey’s eyes. It’s Attie at the door with Bradley right behind her.

“Hey Nova.” She’s smiling, which should provide me with a sense of relief. But I can’t help the dread pooling in my gut or the bad portents which my mind is constantly bombarding me with.

“Hey, Attie. C’mon in.” I hug her for a few minutes before leading her and her six-foot shadow into our kitchen.

“Hey, Roos.” Mickey sounds exhausted and I can’t believe it’s because of me. “So you’ve been read into what the girls are doing too?”

It breaks your heart when he folds into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and runs his fingers through his curls. 

“How bad is it, Bradshaw?” At Bradley’s lack of response, I can see Mickey’s jaw tighten and worry cloud his features even more.

“It’s alright, Mickey.” It’s Attie who takes control of the situation. “Read over this, sign it, and then Nova and I will tell you what’s going on.”

Mickey gives the document a cursory look over, scrawling his signature where required before pushing it to Attie and leveling me with one of his intense panty dropping looks. It’s with my heart in my throat that I let the whole tale of my introduction and involvement in the Furies spill. Anger glints in his eyes as I finish. 

“I need a drink. Whiskey, Roos?” He can’t even look at me. I understand needing a bit to process, but Mickey’s never processed like this before. Please let him understand. Please let this not be the end. I share a scared look with Attie before standing to grab a tumblr for her, too. I don’t drink, not a drop, and while I’ve never minded Mickey or our friends drinking, tonight the sight of the alcohol slipping down his throat just fills me with dread. Maybe it’s residual PTSD from Arthur, who’d beat me if he got too drunk, but it’s just as likely to be the tense situation I’ve found myself in. 

“So where do we go from here?” Mickey’s looking right at me as he says the words. “I know you know this, amor, but I’m on the task force hell bent on finding Persephone and the Furies. To stop them. How can I protect my family? The woman I love, the woman I wanted to ask to marry me tonight, when she’s on the other side of the work I’ve devoted my life to?”

My smile is tremulous as I launch myself into his arms. Relief floods my veins, maybe this isn’t the end!

“You wanted me to marry you, Miguel?” I can’t hide my sobs as I bury myself into his skin. His arms are strong and secure as they automatically wrap around me.

“Course, amor. I’ve wanted to ask you to marry me since the day I met you.” I can’t help the clumsy, salty, kiss I press to his lips. “I’ve wanted you and Alex from first sight. This doesn’t change anything, not between you and me. It’s going to change everything at work, though.”

I get lost kissing Mickey for several more long moments, until the baby monitor on the counter chirps, spilling Alex’s cries into the room.

“I’ll get him,” I murmur in Mickey’s ear. “Attie will join me. Talk to Bradley, vida. He knows, so does Bob.”

Attie’s a silent shadow behind me as we walk into the nursery and I change the baby’s diaper.

“It’s going to be okay, Nov. The entirety of Mickey’s loyalty is with you and this little guy. They’ll figure out a way to keep us safe. And we’ll do our part to keep them safe too.”

Mickey looks relieved when I walk downstairs once Alex is back to sleep. It’s looking at his face and the home that we’ve made together that I make a vow I’ll keep if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll protect my fiancé, protect his friends and protect our son. If someone finds out about the Furies, it won’t be because of me. Nobody I love will ever get hurt again, not if I can stop them. 

It’s that righteous vision that fills my veins when Mickey and I get married in a small courthouse ceremony a few weeks later surrounded by our friends. It’s a hurried engagement, but necessary, especially since spousal immunity can only help when in our situation. He adopts Alex too. Attie checked, Mickey adopting Alex does not void the Wilson trust fund. Things seem to smooth between Mickey and I. Our two week honeymoon in Miami is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life. Not to mention, the most time I’ve spent naked in one stretch. Mickey didn’t let me out of bed for the first 48 hours we were there. 

When we get back, life sinks into its own balanced pace. My new normal, punctuated by the gorgeous solitaire diamond on my left ring finger, is full of promise. But as things pick up and I start hearing more and more about a new king-pin taking over Austin, the more I worry about what’s to come. But I’m able to put my worries aside for the most part, staying vigilant. I do what I can to help the cause, sending the young boys and girls who need help to Cora’s Bakery down the street for pomegranate scones. After all, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and that’s all of us. It’s why we do what we do.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

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[detective-fiasco]

Root and Fusco bonding activity, sitting in the car on a stakeout and accidentally missing the number because they're both too focused on belting out Goodbye Earl

[southern-belle-outcasts]

[Text: Rogue] Morgan says I need to get sweaty. Wanna help?

[text: Spencer] oh? cardio? I can think of a few ways. Most of them would involve you pinned against something 😌

[text: Spencer] oh sorry was I supposed to answer that with something innocent? My bad 😛

[theghostiedyke]

Link in his dyke pick up truck, blasting angry country woman songs

[music-in-my-veins14]

His fist is big, but my gun's bigger He'll find out when I pull the trigger