#HELLO IT HAS BEEN AN HOUR???

[spearxwind]

You need to look up red cornetfish

OUUGUGUGGUHHHHHH YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME

TRUMPET GUY

[chissgender]

Greetings, I bring new reference sheets

[raineandsky]

#137

tw: mentions of death

“You might consider yourself lucky, [Hero],” the supervillain snaps coolly, “being here, still alive. You are only alive because I let you—because you are much more fun to slowly squeeze the life from, until you’re begging me to end it all, and we will have plenty of time for that.”

With one last cold glare and a swish of his coat, the supervillain leaves the hero in the dungeon. The hero would be inclined to call it a prison, or even a cage, but the walls are damp and there’s bloodied chains sitting in one corner, so in their mind this counts very much as a dungeon.

They settle against the cool stone as comfortably as they can manage, which frankly isn’t comfortable at all. They close their eyes, a sigh escaping their lips. They’re prepared to face whatever agonies are doubtlessly ready for them ahead. Waiting for said agonies will be boring, that’s all.

“You too, huh?”

The hero opens their eyes to glance across the dungeon, to the other side of the darkness. They can only just make out the outline of a figure sulking in the other corner, but they recognise the voice all the same.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the hero says with a short laugh. “What did you do?”

The villain practically growls. “I’m not entertaining you.”

“It’s not entertainment; I’m just curious.”

There’s a second of silence, and the hero thinks they might get an answer before the villain simply says, “You first.”

“Fucked up.” The hero shrugs, though they can’t tell if the villain can see it or not. “Did something not particularly heroic.”

The villain shifts a little, chains clanking together with the movement. “Huh.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I figured it must be something bad.” The villain makes a noise that might be a laugh or a scoff. “[Supervillain] doesn’t get super serious with just anyone.”

“Must’ve been pretty serious for you to end up down here, then,” the hero comments with a huff.

The villain raises an hand to their face, and the hero gets a glimpse of the line of chain trailing from their wrist.

“Oh, it’s whatever. I also fucked up. Did something…” The villain grapples for a word awkwardly. “Not villainous.”

The hero barks a laugh that seems to make the villain jump, if the sudden clank of metal is anything to go by, but they can’t help it. A newfound anti-hero and a good-hearted villain sharing a supervillain’s dungeon. What a pair they make.

“You’ve peaked my curiosity,” the hero says brightly. “Please, continue.”

Like a broken record, “You first.”

“Ah, y’know, the usual.” The hero doesn’t really want to say it out loud. “I, uh… I killed someone.”

“Oh.” The silence following that is uncomfortably long, until, thankfully, the villain adds, “Yeah, you’re right, that’s not very heroic.”

The hero nods, though they’re not sure if the villain can see it. “I didn’t mean to. It was another villain. I don’t know who—they had red hair and glasses.”

“Oh,” the villain repeats, a little more strained this time. “Yeah, that’ll do it. They’re one of [Supervillain]’s favourites. Or were, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh.” The villain waves a hand at them nonchalantly. “I didn’t really like them, honestly. They were always showing me up in front of [Supervillain], but I think that’s why he liked them. I wasn’t as willing to throw my comrades under the bus for attention.”

They clear their throat awkwardly, and the hero takes the hint. “What about you, then?” they ask shortly. “What did you do?”

The villain sighs, the puff of warm air catching in the one strip of sun lighting the place. “Well, quite the opposite.” A cough of a laugh jolts them slightly, like they weren’t expecting it. “I stopped [Supervillain] from killing someone, and they got away.”

The hero sits on that for a moment. “That’s very noble of you,” they offer eventually.

“Oh, don’t you start.” The villain tsks in annoyance. “I already have [Supervillain] calling me soft for it.”

“I can’t blame him. I mean… are we sure I’m the hero and you’re the villain here?”

The villain laughs like the idea is ludicrous, and the hero laughs too because it is, but then a silence falls over them and the hero knows that they’re both thinking the same thing.

“You know,” the villain starts slowly, “I’ve never really liked being here.”

The hero snorts humorously. “I can’t say I’m a big fan of grotty dungeons either.”

“Not here, you moron,” the villain snaps. “I mean here, with the villains. As one of them.”

“Oh, cheers to that. The agency has too many rules.”

“This hellhole doesn’t have enough.”

“Well,” the hero says brightly, “I’m sensing something big is happening here.”

The villain hums thoughtfully. “Can we maybe talk about it outside of the dank dungeon?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.” The hero’s mind is already running through plans, scenarios, ways of escape. It’s always easier with a teammate, anyway. “Let’s get the hell out of here and start our new lives.”

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Cale blinks, eyes bleary. He's being held in Choi Han's arms, tucked close to his chest. Wince. Not only does his head hurt, his body hurts now too.

Being ten is strange. Strange in the way that his body doesn't match his mind anymore. Strange in the way that he feels like a stranger in someone else's home. It reminds him of a memory, older than he is, of when he first walked into the orphanage. Out of place. The kids already there looked at him like he was no different from them, but it was strange to finally be labeled an orphan despite having been without parents for most of his life, now.

The 7 year olds memories tucked away in his mind welcome the 10 year old in. Cale frowns.

A habit from his older years, and younger ones, has him checking his environment before his condition.

"I will go to Duke Fredo." He hears Eruhaben declare to everyone in the room, clearly having a meeting of sorts. Cale is tucked so close to Choi Han that his being awake goes unnoticed. Or, if it is noticed, no one says anything about Cale listening in.

Rosalyn nods. "The White Star is planning something in Cale's absence. We need to find out what that is," somberly, she adds, "Before 'he' decides to do something about it first."

Cale yawns in the middle of her talking, and the buzzing in his ears prevents him from hearing the last part. Duke Fredo... Cale remembers being Naru, for a time. Cookies and the White Star... his head aches. It feels, very accurately, like a long needle is being inserted into his skull and poking around in his brain.

"Cale?" Choi Han squeezes his shoulder. The 10 year old in his arms frowns more at how comfortably he's being held. How long has Choi Han been carrying him? He recalls being carried by Choi Han many times. It makes him recall other things, such as pain and coughing up blood. He assertively stops thinking about it.

The meeting on the other side of the room comes to an end at Cale's emerging consciousness. The eyes on him feel familiar. It reminds him of the pitiful looks he got when he wandered the cold streets in nothing but a school uniform. His memory flickers and it suddenly reminds him again of the team, when they looked at him as the Team Leader.

Though, he can't think of any reason why they're staring at him like that.

Finally, with a twang of pain in his skull, he realizes that they're looking at him with expectation... he doesn't connect the dots that their expressions are that of worry. Was there something he missed? He yawns again, tears coming to his eyes, and he calmly wipes them away before kicking his legs.

"I want down."

Choi Han sets him on the ground, steadying him on his wobbly, sleepy legs. Cale is thinking about the conversation that Eruhanen and Rosalyn just had when hunger pains radiate from his stomach like twisting tendrils.

-Sorry Cale! I took longer to heal your body because of the curse, but it's fixed now!

Clutching his stomach with one hand, he covers his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep the blood in his hand as he coughs wetly. It tastes familiar, beyond the familiarity he had with it at 10, but rather its a lifetime of familiarity that cannot be contained in just the words, 'he tasted blood.' It was a taste he knew better than food or water.

His chest feels better, he notes. His head still hurts, unfortunately, but he shouldn't expect too much.

It also came out of his nose. Gross.

With that underwhelming thought, he keeps the blood carefully cupped in his hand. Uncle hated when he got blood on the-

Uncle is...

Right.

But still... he shouldn't get blood on his Hyung-nim's nice carpet. It's probably... expen... sive.

Noise buzzes around him, someone is touching his shoulder, but he's coughing blood again, again, and again, and it feels awful as his stomach twists and writhes with the hunger and pain that he's felt before, but it makes him ravenous all the same.

Hungry. He could eat anything right now. He remembers the tasteless rock he ate to get Super Rock's Ancient Power. He'd even eat a normal rock.

But still, even in his hunger, he keeps his mouth closed.

He can't bring himself to ask for food.

Not even from Raon. Something in his core, in his gut and his heart and his soul, tells him that he shouldn't ask. How could he take food from Raon? Well, it's Raon's supply of food for Cale anyway, so it's okay. But taking food from a child? But Cale is a child too--

"Human! That's your hungry face! Quickly eat this pie!" Raon cries out and there's suddenly a slightly smashed slice of apple pie in his face. How are there already tears on it...?

He grabs it without thinking hard.

The hunger doesn't care about tears, and soon Cale is stuffing his face with the salty apple pie with a fervor that he, at 10, would normally never have shown to anyone. He eats without chewing with a familiarity that makes him want to cry.

Choi Han's hand shakes on Cale's shoulder.

He should've checked Cale's condition beforehand. He saw that Cale used the ancient powers but still, Cale only got his external wounds treated. Why did he let his happen? He thought that it would be okay this time. Cale was young now and he wasn't showing a response for a long time, so he didn't think. There's no excuse for this.

Cale eats desperately, as if his life depends on it, and Choi Han can't help the way his heart cracks at the sight. And burns with frustration at his own uselessness.

Drip.

The room is quiet.

Drop.

"Human! Do-do you need more apple pie?!" Raon yells, panicking, bringing out more apple pie as Cale's cheeks become wet with silent tears. He reaches for a pie in the air and scarfs it down, uncaring of the sticky fingers covered in sweet apple filling and flaky, crumbling bits of crust.

It tastes like home.

It doesn't taste like Uncles house, or blood, or school hallways or alleys or scraps.

He sobs miserably, wanting to hide. He isn't crying over apple pie, he isn't! From his memories, he definitely shouldn't be crying over this much- it didn't even hurt enough to cry!

Thunder crackles outside the castle. Cale remains hunched over a new slice of apple pie, curling into himself in a very not-Cale like manner.

Another crack of lightning outside.

Eruhaben steps in front of Cale. He brushes Choi Han, frozen in his shock, away from the scene. Raon brings more apple pie out, even as he sees that Cale isn't so much eating the pie as he is holding it.

"Human, I will- I will destroy the world! You can't go into a coma again, I will- I will," Raon's voice cracks. Choi Han gathers himself. He looks at Cale, before calmly standing next to Raon and touching his paw in the air. "Human..."

"Cale," Eruhaben speaks calmly. "Look at me."

Cake shakes his head, fingers trembling. Something's wrong with him, inside of him, and the panic gets to his chest as he starts to take quicker breaths. Cale looks through his memories to fix himself but they blur in a cacophony of sounds and words and frames.

"Cale Henituse, you need to relax. Everything is okay. No one is taking anything from you. Calm down."

They weren't inspirational and comforting words. No, the words could even be considered a little cold, for an adult speaking to what appears to be a 7 year old. But it was necessary for Cale, who was 10 and not 7, and Kim Rok Soo, who was orphaned at a young age and abused and abandoned, and a little boy who went through both child and teenage years without anyone he could call family.

Cale opens his eyes. Were they closed? Eruhaben is in front of him.

Calm down.

Why did Lee Soo Hyuk come to mind when he heard that? A distant, dusty memory falls through his mind, so he picks it up and watches it. The Record plays out.

Something happened like this, once.

It was the only time he came close to crying in front of the Team Leader. Lee Soo Hyuk brought him out of it. The Record, though the reason why he almost cried was somehow forgotten(lost?), always played when he needed to put himself together in a moment of weakness.

Even now. When he is 10 years old in a 7 year olds body. The voice brings back the feeling of calm.

His memories settle.

Right. This is more like him. More like himself.

His face levels out into something neutral.

It feels like an older version of himself, somewhere between 38 and 20, is stroking the top of his head. Cale wonders if hallucinations are part of the curse.

"Good job." Lee Soo Hyuk in the Record and Eruhaben's words overlap for a moment but Cale ignores it.

It takes mental strength to stand straight again, but he manages it with a stiff expression. His hands are a mess, a gross mix of blood and the smushed flesh of what used to be a perfect apple pie.

He's never been more ashamed and embarrassed in his life. Old memories come to mind, reminding him that he's done worse, but the 10 year old in a 7 year olds body feels mortified. If he'd done this in front of his uncle...

"I'm sorry." Cale apologizes. It comes out of his mouth naturally. He has a lot that he could be apologizing for. The floor, which surely has blood and messy apple pie on it now. The pie, which is as ruined as his shirt. The weird hyperventilating thing he did. He recalls his memories. Maybe it wasn't what Lee Soo Hyuk called it, a 'panic attack,' but something different, more sinister.

He convinces himself that it is.

Red flag number 6 it is.

"Cale, you have nothing to be sorry for." Eruhaben states clearly. Cale looks him in the eyes. Strangely, he feels compelled to believe the Ancient Dragon.

.... Red Flag number 7?

Cale backs away on instinct.

Eruhaben sighs.

"Unlucky bas... hah." Standing up from where he had apparently gotten on his knees, Eruhaben waves his hand. The gross feeling on Cale's hands disappears effortlessly, and the stain on his shirt vanishes too. "It'll still be better to wash your hands, at least. Though that doesn't mean you're dirty... it means you were attacked by apple pie." Eruhaben tells him seriously. He lowers himself to his height and makes eye contact. "So it's best to wash it off, just in case some of it is still on you. It could... attack again."

The other people in the room, notably missing Bud and the mage Glenn now, stare at Eruhaben. He pointedly ignores their gazes.

Cale nods.

Eruhaben covers his rising smile.

"Off you go now," he lowers the hand, looking serious again. Struggling, he continues,"... Be careful." Like sending off a soldier, he stands up and looks away from Cale.

Choi Han covers his own face and fights to not laugh.

Somehow, despite the fact that Cale technically has all of his memories, the explanation works for him. He goes into the bathroom, escorted by Ron, who helps wash his hands at the sink. Ron also has him change his clothes, despite their clean appearance.

Ron assures him that it's due to the risk of another apple attack. It could be stuck to the clothes as well. Cale frowns. Ron smiles at the pouting 7 year old.

The 10 year old starts changing his clothes obediently.

Cale's muscles ache and burn. Even his bones hurt.

His head is in so much pain, especially when he focuses, but he draws in his willpower to think very hard about the reason why he might be in this condition.

Cale winces as the needle in his brain digs in deep and drags itself over his frontal lobe, and he visibly shudders, trying not to grimace.

10 year olds are supposed to be bigger than 7 year olds, is the conclusion he comes to.

...

Cale gets chill on the back of his neck.

Surely he isn't going to grow... right? No, no way. If he is, surely he shouldn't be in pain, right? He became 7 years old in a flash and it didn't hurt, so why now?

The pain alleviates for a second. In feels like whatever is causing the pain is given a revelation.

In his undergarments, Cale is enveloped in a white light.

This is...

Definitely red flag number 8.

Definitely, he thinks, suddenly 12 years old in a 12 year olds body. The needle painfully digging into his brain burns and yet feels cold at the same time. It spreads like an infection, and he immediately covers his right eye as it becomes numb with a sharp, icy sensation. Strangely, his hand warms up.

Ron, who innocently retrieved a garment from the crown prince Alberu's younger days, drops it. The assassins hands, which never tremble, shake more than they would if Cale had been an adult. Seeing a newly 12 Cale bleeding from his eye...

Blood seeps through the gap between Cale's hand and his face, which is now suddenly 12 years old.

Cale-- Ron realizes as he calls, as calmly as he can, for the ancient dragon and rushes in a not-so-calm manner to the young masters side-- has yet to realize that his eye is gushing blood. The 12 year old looks at Ron, confused.

Ron's expression is stiff.

"Ron?" Cale asks.

Eruhaben enters the room alongside Raon and Choi Han, but Ron focuses on relaxing his expression, and carefully holding Cale's hand to his eye, keeping it there so he doesn't remove it.

"Young Master... Do you remember the song, Dark Night Moon Light?"

Cale frowns. His head hurts.

"No." He says honestly. Why is everyone in here all of a sudden? Cale was barely dressed in some now too-small shorts. It's cold, he thinks through the pain.

"Then I will remind you, Young Master. It's a children's song that parents or butlers like me sing at a child's bedside. The child will close their eyes and listen to the song. Would you allow this butler to sing it to you?"

All of a sudden?

Cale feels uncomfortable, but his head hurts so much that he can't think about it a lot, so he closes his eyes.

Ron sings, in his calm and low voice, a common children's melody. He himself had once sung it for Beacrox, a long time ago.

It's supposed to help children who find themselves terrified of the dark. As far as Ron knows, Cale was never been so afraid of the dark to have this song sung to him... but, he understands with a bitter heart, even if he had been scared, the song would've been sung by his mother. Not his father, who was too sucked in by his grief after her passing.

He realizes that Cale, being 12 now, must no longer have the memories of his mother singing to him.

Eruhaben has Ron carefully remove Cale's hand, which had been pooling blood inside, spilling onto the floor.

Branded under his eye, looking like a burn in the soft and thin skin, is a number.

'12'

Eruhaben waves away the blood.

"Young Master, open your eyes now. The song is over." Ron doesn't react to the number, and when Cale opens his eyes, hides his relief that his eye is not damaged. Just bleeding. "Do you know how old you are now?" Though, Ron had a strong suspicion that they already knew.

"... 12, I think."

"Cale, you've been fighting off the curse, haven't you?" Eruhaben asks. It feels angry. Cale shrinks in on himself.

"It's fine, isn't it? It's better if I'm older."

He won't cry anymore. He can bathe again, since he can now handle the phantom sensations of blood and scars and dirt. He won't ignorantly use his ancient powers. Off the top of his head, there are more reasons that he should be older than there are reasons to go back to being young.

He is a better slacker when he isn't being whiny and childish.

"... Cale-nim." Choi Han groans.

"You knew that you were fighting off the curse, right?" Eruhaben asks again, but it's calculating.

"... Yes," but how could he not? He could always feel when he grew older, smarter. Not to mention the cracking like pain of his skull being hammered in, worse and worse as he ages. Even now, he can only tell the honest and not altered truth, simply because he is in too much pain.

Choi Han wants to ask. 'Is it because you don't trust us?'

But he holds his tongue.

Eruhaben sighs. He nods at Ron.

"Get dressed." Eruhaben rubs the top of Cales red hair, leaving him frazzled, before leaving the room. Choi Han clutches his sword and restrains his rampant emotions.

"You aren't in trouble human! The great and mighty Raon will help you become a child again!" Raon flies around Cale. Ron, observing Choi Han and Raon, leaves to rob the crown prince of more clothes.

Sigh. Cale shivers.

His head hurts.

[agentoffangirling]

Me whenever someone gives me a chance to talk about Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. in public:

[bloodfreak-boyking]

a lot of ppl think D/s stands for Dominant/submissive but it actually comes from Dean/sam which is the same dynamic but with incest #themoreyouknow

[lord-shitbox]

Wrote this translation of Koujaku's bad end character song (Tears by Kanako Itou) for my own fun

my notes:

1: 逢う au: atypical kanji for meet; this one's used mostly for dates/meetings between (secret) lovers

2: 抱いて daite: to hold closely/embrace, usually your lover

3: 華 hana: atypical kanji for flower; particularly associated with splendor, brilliance, showiness

[rain-shoshana]

Been losing my mind about Emily Axford’s EP Lullabies from the Wild Side in my sketchbook lately. I think I’m gonna have to make a zine about it…

[missmitchieg]

It's still weird to me that there's historical American Girl characters of the 80s and 90s. And one of them has a tiny Molly doll complete with a tiny Meet Molly book.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[yharnams]

Should I buy RDR 2 for the third time yes or yes

[seth-suffers]

deadass forgot to say I'm 23 today

[jils-things]

my nonnon ueeewiwiw

[softgothbabe]

I've been awake for 27 hours now 💀

[softquietsteadylove]

Can you do another wholesome moment with the contract marriage? Maybe Gil having an extra hard day and Thena finds him very exhausted in his office?

Gil startled at the sound of his office door opening. He had dozed off at his desk, like some old retiree. His body flooded with adrenaline, ready to combat whomever was stupid enough to break into his home office.

But it wasn't an enemy, it was his wife.

Of course it was Thena. He had been in here for hours after telling her it would just be one phone call. Usually, he avoided taking work calls when he was at home in the first place. But it had been urgent. And one phone call had become two, then three.

It was dark in the office. The window behind his chair offered some illumination, spilling in from the garden lighting outside. Thena was walking light as a feline, wearing a white nightdress and a light robe billowing behind her.

Gil closed his eyes again. He didn't need the temptation of his wife's beauty right now. He needed a bed time beer and to lie down on the floor and sleep.

Thena moved closer, inspecting if he was awake or asleep. She had been told to stay out of his office; he had to admit he was surprised she was in here.

But if she was breaking a rule here or there, maybe that was a good thing. So long as nothing got her hurt. She was probably bored, spending all her days in the house or waiting for him to be available to go to a market or a library with her.

"Gil?" she whispered, testing the deepness of his sleep.

He remained still atop his desk (just for fun).

"Gil!" she whispered just a little louder. She came closer, enough to put her hand on his arm. She didn't even really shake him, so much as gently push his arm a little.

He kept his smile directed down at the desk. She was so cute sometimes it was hard to keep it to himself.

"Hm," he heard her make an unhappy little grumble. He did feel bad for probably having made her wait for him to come back out all this time. "I could just wake you."

She could. It wasn't like he would get mad at her for it.

A few of his boys had asked him: "Boss, why do you have her?"

He had everything he needed already, and if he wanted women, he didn't need to have a 'wife' of all things. There were other ways to enjoy the company of a woman, to put it politely, without having one live in his own home.

But he liked having someone at home. He liked indulging Thena, and he liked even more when she refused to indulge him in return. Thena kept him feeling lively and challenged, in a way no one else did.

And, despite him telling her she could leave at any time, she hadn't yet.

"But that seems a little cruel," Thena sighed, leaving him be for the moment. She crossed her arms around herself. She had never struck him as the type to talk to herself; she really did need to get out more. Maybe he should get her a car of her own (confidential plates and tinted windows, of course).

Thena rounded the other side of his chair to continue her snooping. His head was tilted a little more in this direction, but if he kept his eyes mostly closed, she would still believe he was asleep.

"What could have possibly occupied you all night?" she huffed, indeed unhappy she had been made to eat dinner and spend her evening alone. "Your food is in the fridge, in any case."

He bit back a smile again. His wife really was a sweet one. She didn't have to save him any food. She could have just left him to order in for himself at this late hour.

Thena tilted her head at him, her long, blonde locks collecting on the top of the desk. She even reached out, just barely touching some of his hair before snapping her hand back to herself. "Handsome thing--unfortunately."

He would have to remember this for another time. He inhaled, just showing some signs of stirring.

Thena nearly jumped, hurrying to take a massive step away from him and pull her robe around herself.

"Thena?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing in here?"

She cleared her throat faintly as he ruffled his hair. "I was just heading to bed when I noticed you were still in here."

He just nodded.

"Was it-"

He looked at her. He was admittedly surprised she was asking more. She - rightfully - had no interest in what he did for work. Pulling teeth and cutting off limbs was the last, deeply sardonic guess she had offered on the matter.

"Was it bad?" she managed to squeak out, her brows drawn together in concern. "I never imagined it would exhaust you so much you would sleep in here."

He inhaled. Falling asleep was an unforseen and unfortunate outcome. He was getting too old to fall asleep on the job. "It's okay, hon. Just some sudden changes the guys needed help resolving."

That was a polite enough way to put it, he thought.

Still, Thena hovered. She shifted her weight between her feet, visibly debating turning and leaving and staying with him. "But it's sorted now?"

"Uh," he blinked, curious as to what had her so determined to stand around with him. "Yeah."

She continued, too, rooted to the spot as he patted the rumpled sleeves of his suit. Her robe swayed around her legs until, finally, she stepped closer to him again. "Come on."

His eyebrows shot up as she held her hand out to him. He followed, though, because it was too tempting not to. "Isn't that my line, sweetheart?"

She rolled her eyes at him, assuring him she was indeed still Thena.

But she held his hand gently, leading him out of his office and away from his self-made dungeon/empire. She led him out of his office and towards the stairs.

"Uh, Thena?" he inquired, but she continued leading. She had never come anywhere near his room, either. At least as far as he knew.

Not even his room was off-limits to her; only his office was. But he was pretty sure she had wanted so little to do with him upon first arriving that she didn't even know where in the house his room was.

"Sleeping like that will kill your back. I know damn well," she muttered as she padded up the stair ahead of him.

He averted his eyes from the swaying of her hips, focusing on how softly her hair shifted on her shoulders. "Yeah?"

"I had a job in reception for a time," she confessed. This marked something she had told him of her own volition--that he hadn't learned from research or observation. "Call it keeping an eye on my father, for a time."

Now, that was a surprise. "Didn't stick?"

She snorted, a sound he didn't hear her make often. But the change from her usual reserved elegance was funny. It suited her, in a way. "Long hours, little pay, and I should have known my father wasn't capable of professionalism in the work place."

Gil skipped a step so he could walk more alongside her and not behind her. That was enough about her rat bastard of a dad. "Well, what job would you wanna work instead?"

She eyed him in the low lights installed close to the steps and flush with the ceiling. "I thought I didn't have to work."

"You don't," he grinned, echoing the words he had first told her upon the signing of their contract. "You never have to work a day in your life and you'll want for nothing. But I know you're bored."

Now she was the one surprised.

"You're bored here on your own, right?" he shrugged, giving her hand a squeeze as they continued on at a snail's pace. "Probably want something to do in the day?"

"Hm," she agreed, but kept the details of what and where and how to herself. That was okay with him, so long as she told him what she needed from him eventually.

"Name the time and place," he left it at that, bringing her hand up to his lips. Not that she needed him to gift her a job for the fun of it. He was pretty sure she hadn't even liked any of his other gifts.

Except that dress from their shopping trip; he knew that one was in the back of her closet.

His room was upstairs. He had considered having her room next to his, but he hadn't wanted her to feel like he was listening to her through the walls or anything. Not that he could; the walls were reinforced stone. He hadn't built this big, beautiful house just to cheap out on the architecture.

Thena didn't just drop him off at the top of the stairs and say 'see ya', though. She walked right over to his room and opened the door for herself.

Gil grinned, following her inside. "You gonna make sure I get to bed on time and everything?"

She gave him a withering look over her shoulder, leading and leaving him to the foot of his massive king sized bed. "At least change out of that suit."

It was uncomfortable to sleep in. The heavy fabric of the sleeves was still bent and wrinkled, scratching at the insides of his elbows. He shrugged the jacket off, at least. "You don't have to help me."

"No," she walked out of his closet with a clothes hanger. "I don't. You can manage it yourself like a big boy, I'm sure."

He chuckled; man, his wife was cool. He raised an eyebrow as she tossed it at him. She looked around the room, though, shamelessly examining it for her own purposes. "What do you think?"

"It looks like it does in your office." That was true. The house and even Thena's room he'd let an interior designer handle. Everything was fairly modern in a way that he hoped wouldn't look dated in a year and a half. His room and office, though, had old dark wood fixtures and black accents. "A bit grim, don't you think?"

He laughed at that. "You know what I do for work, right?"

"Doesn't mean you have to-"

She paused, and he looked at her for the reason. She didn't seem to have one, her eyes trailing over him as he unbuttoned his shirt. Their eyes met and, charmingly, she rushed to avert her eyes from him. "I thought you didn't need my help for that."

"Sorry, princess," he puffed, continuing to pull his shirt off anyway. "I thought you didn't care if you got treated like a lady."

"I said you didn't have to treat me like a maiden in a tower," she corrected with a certain bite to it. But still, she rotated herself so he could walk into his closet without her eyes on him.

"Relax, sweetheart," he called out from inside, hanging up his suit that had to be ironed anyway. "I'm not gonna strip naked in front of you."

"That's not-!" a half baked protest warbled out of her.

He shook his head to himself as he retrieved some sweatpants and a t-shirt for himself. Really, he didn't need the shirt, but this was for his wife's sake, he snickered.

Thena just barely dashed her eyes over to him as he emerged. She could play it cool as she liked, he could see how flustered she was. "I trust you can manage from here."

"Hey," he reached out before she could scurry away in horror. He pressed his thumb into her palm. "Thanks for pulling me out."

She had no idea what he meant so deeply in that simple phrase. She wasn't in the business he was in; she didn't know that pulling him out was saving him in more ways than one. So she just nodded.

He grinned, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. "Get some sleep."

"Hm." Her eyes did one last sweep of him, unsure of where exactly to land. She reached for the doorknob blindly, missing a few times before she turned and hurried out of his room and downstairs again.

The sweet scent of her shampoo trailed behind her--not the expensive stuff he'd left her in her attached bathroom, some normal stuff she had bought because she already liked and used it before.

Maybe he would get some of that food from the fridge and bring it up here for himself. Or maybe he would sink into bed already. He could dream of Thena feeding it to him. He laughed at himself.

He was cooked--totally and completely done for. That was okay, though. He didn't think it was a bad thing to have a wife who made sure he didn't put out his back and slept in a proper bed.

[midnight-els]

For All Mankind - Margo & Aleida

2x03 - Rules of Engagement 4x06 - Leningrad

Requested by @tiltedsyllogism