#I purposely left it with Lily not telling yet because I want it to build some more.

[starwrittenfates]

@dcmoniism continued from X

She was rendered speechless by this, her heart hammering away in her chest with a mix of emotions from the fact Severus was misunderstanding the situation, but mostly from the declaration he had just given. Green eyes blink, trying to process if she heard it correctly and it wasn't just a figment of her imagination-- Severus liked her?! Well, of course he liked her, they were best friends---but this went beyond their friendship. That much was obvious now.

Lily hadn't thought much on the subject before. Although, recently, that had started to change as she began to entertain the thought of seeing him in a different light, finding herself start to be drawn to every little thing about him. She wasn't sure how to bring it up. Wasn't sure if she should. And she for one didn't think he would ever think of her as anything more than a friend.

"You're wrong. It's not what it seems, Sev." Merlin's beard, how could she explain this? "I don't like Potter at all. He's not even my type. I'm only doing this to see if it will finally get him to leave me alone!" Lily paused, taking in a deep and shaky breath. "I don't want to go on this bloody date with him because there is already someone I like-- and it's not him. You probably won't believe me anyway. You've clearly made up your mind about that."

[heartofspells]

Fic Idea Game

Well, @fonkeloog, guess I can’t very well skip out on my own idea, can I?

We all have those lists, right? The ones that just build and build, filled with ideas we don’t know if we’ll ever actually make something out of or not.

Tell me about those (if you want and are willing; i understand sometimes ideas sit closely for a reason).

Which ones are you the most excited about?

One idea I have that I’m very excited about but has been tabled only until I finish a few other things is a fake marriage AU. Basically, Sirius is sorted into Gryffindor, but he didn’t want to be. He never connects with James/Remus/Peter as he does in canon. They’re all just sort of there for him. He’s a little cold, sticks close with his family, wobbles a bit on their ideas and beliefs. Call him grey. But the Blacks decide Sirius needs to get married in his last year at Hogwarts. Sirius is firmly against it, wants no part of it. He looks into marriage laws, and then he goes to Remus and proposes (ha!) the idea in the most blunt way possible. Then a lot of other things happen, all while Remus thinks Sirius is such a horrible person though he actually turns out not to be.

One more I’ve had rather recently, and is still building, is a world where James and Lily die on Halloween but Sirius doesn’t go to Azkaban. Him and Remus are together during the war, but Sirius breaks it off. He falls apart after his friends’ deaths, sinks very far down in his misery (darkly). He either gets Harry and loses him, or never gets him at all (I haven’t decided yet), but Remus (who isn’t a werewolf) raises him instead. Jump several years later and Sirius is still drifting through life in his dark pit, but he runs across the pair, and it sparks something in him. He begins essentially stalking them. Remus finds out, and he tells Sirius he doesn’t care that Sirius sees Harry, but he’s got to get himself together and under control again before that can happen. Cue Sirius’ rise back from the ashes (slowly, with several slips along the way), and him ending up with his family. 

What’s one you don’t think you’ll ever follow through with, and why?

I’ve had this one for a long time, and I just keep sitting on it, never moving forward. Something about it just pokes the wrong way, even if I do sort of love it while also hating it. 

Sirius and Remus are both drug addicts who meet in rehab after James and Lily mostly force Sirius in for his own safety and health. At first, Remus seems to be taking the whole thing seriously, working the steps, getting himself clean and better, but it turns out he’s not. He’s actually very self-destructive, and he pulls Sirius down with him several times. It’s a very rise-and-fall idea. Remus would also have HIV from using, and I’m not sure if it’s that that keeps putting me off from ever actually writing it, or the very ‘we’ll be one another’s ends’ vibe the whole thing holds, but for now it sits and doesn’t move

Are any of them just left to rest because you need to talk them out more and haven’t? If so, maybe someone will see this and help!

I have a very loose idea for some sort of soulmate AU where the boys hate one another, then something happens that clues them into being one another’s soulmate, and they despise it, fight against it, but eventually work into each other. But what that thing is, the other details behind everything, I’ve no idea, and haven’t given it much thought beyond the forming of the idea. 

I also have another idea that I started years ago where Remus owns a perfume shop that used to be his mother’s. Sirius and James stumble into it one day searching out a gift for Lily. I had a plot at one point, but it’s gone now, and I’m not sure what direction to take it in. I’ve got a whole first part written with baby Remus playing while his mother works and an old woman coming in and telling him this story about love and life, but I can’t for the life of me remember the purpose behind it. 

Put your ideas out there! Give us your full lists or just one idea. Make people excited about them so that you’re also excited. Sometimes that’s all it takes to light that spark, and I love that so much.

I won’t bog this down with tags again as I’ve already done that, but if you see it and want to participate, by all mean, please do! I’d love to see it and get those minds working. 

[sosadz]

Last Mimosa

Adult!Reborn x F!reader

warning(s) - blood, death, angst, hanahaki au

this is my first post on this app and I still couldn’t figure out how tumblr works lol I hope you guys enjoy

1,637 words

-

You still remember the feeling when you first realized you love this man. It has been the same since day one. The way he acted like he didn't care, but secretly looked out for you in his own way. The way he sat in the chair of his apartment, admiring the view, slowly sipping his espresso. The way he walked with that charming look of his, the look that make legs go weak. His black eyes that look so cold yet so ravishing. You love all of that. All of him.

You had never accepted the fact that you love this man until a strange flower petal immersed out of your mouth. A mimosa flower.

The deepest secret from the bottom of your heart had revealed itself. One that you had never wanted to acknowledge yourself.

'A Mimosa... What a coincidence.' You sarcastically joke. The Mimosa's meaning is the conjuration of secret love. No one knows that I love you, not even myself until now.

'Is this a blessing or a curse - the Hanahaki disease?'

_

You and Reborn have enjoyed each other's company and you both like each other, but only in a platonic way. However, this platonic relationship is only one-sided, as you love him romantically. You had made a promise to yourself to never tell him about your feelings, since you didn't want to ruin this precious friendship.

Following your usual routine, you stopped by his office to greet him as always. Whenever you were with him the Hanahaki disease didn't act up much, so you just assumed everything was going to be okay.

You entered the building and walked into his office. There was nothing but a comfortable silence, accompanied by the sound of a coffee machine running and the smell of coffee. Of course it was espresso - just how he liked it. You opened the door to greet him.

"Reborn I-" you felt something coming from your throat. Reborn's gaze turned to you immediately after he heard your voice.

'Maybe I should stop assuming things'

Before he could answer or ask you anything, you quickly ran away from him while trying your best not to let any of the petals fall from your mouth. You felt something wet dripping down your cheeks. Your heart ached, but you had to run away as far as you could. He can't know about your secret, your disease.

When you had reached the rooftop of the building, you let all the petals you had kept inside your mouth flow out. Your heart ached, your mouth started to get dry, your throat was sore and all you could hear was nothing but a constant ringing. It was like your whole body reset itself. Your vision was blurry and you couldn't concentrate on anything but the pain you were feeling.

After thirty minutes, you began to feel better. You wiped away the remaining blood and petals from your mouth and off your clothes.

"Y/n" You heard someone speaking behind you. You knew damn well whose voice that belonged to.

"Oh, I'll be back in a minute don't worry." You tried your best to make your voice sound like you were okay, convincing him that there was nothing wrong. You quickly hid all the fallen petals in your shirt but it was too late. He was the world's best hitman, how could you lie to him without him knowing? You wish he would ignore the fact that you lied to him and just wait for you in his office.

And he did.

He nodded slowly and walked away from you, giving you the privacy you had wished for.

'Why do I feel like this?' You asked yourself. Weren't you supposed to be relieved that he did as you wished for? Why do your eyes feel so warm and watery? Why were you feeling so disappointed? It was like a million knives were stabbed into your heart, but instead it was the Mimosa flower.

_

Reborn actually knew. He knew everything. He knew you were suffering from the Hanahaki disease, and he knew you were throwing up on the rooftop. He knew that you lied to him. He tried his best to find out who was responsible for causing you to get this disease. He was the world's best hitman, but why can't he find the person you love and help you?

How could he ever find out,

When that person was him all along?

_

A few days after the incident you decided to visit Reborn again at his office. You stepped inside without knocking. It was just how it was. He always knew it was you who came inside, so he didn't even have to look.

"I just stopped by to say hi and maybe get some free coffee" You jokingly said to him followed by a chuckle. You were desperate to hide all of the sadness blooming inside your chest.

He didn't say anything but handed you a cup of coffee from his table that he had already prepared for you. You took it and gave him a playful smile.

'Maybe I'd stopped loving you if you stopped being so nice to me, Reborn.' You thought to yourself.

"I won't be here for a week, just to let you know." He said while looking at the sky next to him. You knew how much he admired those views. You walked next to him and looked the same way.

"Want me to take care of your office for you?" You asked sarcastically. You knew he never wanted you to take care of his office because he knows you are a mess, and would give him a headache when he came back from his mission.

"As if." He rolled his eyes and adjusted his hat.

"Alright, I'm going to go now. See ya!" You said, putting your now empty cup on his table and walked out from his office. After the door had closed, your whole body started shaking. You were afraid he was going to figure out what was going on with you.

You took time gathering yourself to stand properly again, and walked out from the building.

'I don't have much time left, and I don't think I will last until the time when he comes back. I should find a way to let him know I died happily.' You thought as you let out a deep sigh.

_

A week later,

Reborn came back just to find you laying in your bed, dressed in the most beautiful way possible. In fact, you were always beautiful. There were Mimosas all over your bed, covering your mouth all the way to your body. Your eyes were closed shut. He was too late. Reborn fell onto his knees, lifted one of your hands to his face and kissed it softly. He felt the warmth in his eyes, and his vision was getting more and more blurry.

Looking over to his right, he saw a letter on your drawer next to your bed. His name was written on it. Although his hands were still shaking uncontrollably, he made his way to your letter and opened it.

Dear Reborn,

Reborn, you know... I really appreciate our friendship. You have made me smile, laugh or even be mad. But in a good way, don't worry. I know you are the world's best hitman but please be careful and take care of yourself. Try drinking a lot of water, not just coffee.

Please know that I died while I was being happy. You have probably already figured out by now what the cause of my death was, and if you figure out who's the reason I got this disease, don't blame him. Be kind to him. All I ever want is for him to be happy because that makes me happy too.

You are a good friend of mine, Reborn.

You always will be. No one could ever replace you. But if someone ever replaces me, that's okay.

I won't be mad at you.

I hope you will remember me. And whenever you ever think of me, I hope it will be the time where I smile or laugh. I don't look nice when I'm crying or sleeping so... Don't.

I will always be with you -

in the skies you had always admired,

in the smell of your espresso.

If you aren't happy I will know.

So be happy. For me.

I love you, Reborn.

Y/n, L/n

He cried, for the first time. The world's best hitman cried, uncontrollably. The grief of losing someone precious to him was too much to handle.

He loved her,

And he couldn't stand seeing her get hurt.

If only he had realized it sooner, you wouldn't be here. Laying in your bed without your soul. You could be happy together with him by your side. He could have helped you, but he didn't. Instead, he spent his entire week going on a stupid mission. The purpose of the mission was actually to find a cure for the Hanahaki disease that you were suffering from. He wanted to save you, and he was so close to doing so. He was so blinded by the end goal that he didn't take into account your current situation. You slipped right through his fingers.

Reborn felt something sharp piercing his heart.

Something was about to come out from his throat.

He coughed.

A white petal came out of his mouth.

It was a Lily petal.

He picked it up and looked into it for a minute and thought: 'A Lily. I wonder if this disease chose a specific flower for me. Is this what you've been feeling this entire time, Y/n?'

He kissed your lips for the last time. But sadly, you never got the chance to kiss him back.

Not anymore.

[wonder-womans-ex]

Curtain Call

Act one, scene one

Sirius finds him with his head in his hands, back against the brick wall of the information and technology building. He stops for a moment, wondering if he should go over there—ask what’s wrong, or offer assistance—then decides against it. 

He is Sirius Black, and Sirius Black does not help other people. 

Not anymore. 

So he continues on with his day. He walks past the crying boy into the theatre building, pausing by the bulletin board to pull a phone number slip from the bottom of a flyer that advertises free physics tutoring. It tears off at the area code. 

Great—just what this day needs. 

It gets significantly worse when he pushes through the stage door and bumps into Danya, who’s lurking behind the wings, black Abbey Road shirt blending in with the curtains. She smiles at him brightly. 

“Hi, Sirius,” she says. “I was just leaving. I could wait up, if you want—fancy getting lunch together?” 

There is exactly one good thing about Danya Lent, and that is the fact that she doesn’t giggle, or tuck her hair behind her ear, or look up at him through her eyelashes. She talks to him like he’s a regular person, not some sort of movie star. She’s not just attracted to his looks—she genuinely likes him. 

But Sirius just broke up with Remus. He’s not looking for a relationship. And Danya isn’t the kind of person he’d be interested in dating, anyway. She reminds him too much of James. 

“Sorry, Dan,” Sirius tells her, glancing towards where Professor Fischer is sitting at the piano centre stage. “I’ll probably be here for a while; I don’t want to keep you waiting.”

Make that two good things about her—she can take a hint. Danya just nods and grins. “All right. I’ll see you around, I guess!” 

And then she’s gone.

Sirius clears his throat before approaching the professor, startling the older man out of whatever trance he’s in. Fischer’s eyebrows shoot up comically when he sees Sirius, and he pats the spot next to him invitingly. 

Sirius steps forward, sliding onto the piano bench. He absentmindedly plucks a note—D#, he thinks, but it’s been years since he quit piano lessons—and waits. 

“I was quite impressed by your performance yesterday,” Fischer says, and Sirius’s heart sinks. Professor Fischer throws around words of praise like they’re buy-one-get-two-free, and ‘quite impressed’ does not fall high on the sliding scale of compliments. 

“Thank you, sir,” he says anyway, because he knows better than to say anything else. 

But apparently the professor isn’t done yet. “I had been wondering,” he begins, fingers dancing over the keys, yet never making a sound, “Whether you’d given any thought to that course I suggested.”

“What, the creative writing one?” Sirius’s voice, though he tries hard for it not to, gives away his surprise. He’d assumed that Fischer had been recommending the free creative writing seminar to everyone in his class, not him specifically. He’s never had a way with words—not ones that weren’t already scripted out for him, at least. 

“Yes, that one. It’s not like most of the courses we offer here—it’s led entirely by alumni of the university, and most of them are very good writers. I think it would be good for you.”

Now Sirius is intrigued. “In what way?”

“You’e an incredible actor, Mr. Black, but what you struggle with is finding the purpose behind the words.”

(Sirius thinks he has purpose down to a science, but he’s not about to say that to Professor Fischer.)

“Oh, sure, you know what the characters are feeling and why. You have a way with the people you play. But what you lack is the concept of an author.

“I’ve had an eye on you for a while, and what I’ve found is this: if Eloise is walking down the street, you know why she is walking down the street. But you do not know why the person writing the script made the conscious choice to have her walk down the street. You get so caught up in the fiction that you forget it is based in fact. Do you understand this?”

Professor Fischer’s accent gets more pronounced the more passionate he is, and right now he sounds as if he would be right at home on the streets of Berlin. Sirius nods slowly. 

“I think I get it,” he says. “I need to know what goes into the making of a story before I can make the story come alive.”

For this he gets a smile. “Four o’clock on Wednesdays in the Rogers lecture room. You’ll be there?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I will.” 

***

And, sure enough, Wednesday afternoon finds Sirius standing in the middle of a hallway, wondering where the hell the Rogers lecture room is. He checks his watch—4 minutes to go. He’s glad he got there early, but at this rate, it won’t make much of a difference. 

He contemplates just leaving. He didn’t sign up for the class or anything (wait, was he supposed to?) and it’s not like there would be roll call or anything anyway. But he trusts Professor Fischer, and at least this seminar is something to do that isn’t scrolling through his old texts with Remus and crying. 

When someone bumps into him, he turns around. It’s a girl with shoulder-length auburn hair and a lip ring. Her eyes are green—piercingly so—and he opens his mouth and closes it again a few times trying to remember what he was going to say. 

At first, he thinks oh, fuck, we’re back to being flusted around pretty girls. Wonderful. But then he realizes that while she’s attractive, sure, from an objective point of view, he’s not really attracted to her. 

He’s actually a little bit scared of her. No, scratch that, very scared of her. Maybe it has something to do with the vicious glare she’s sending him. 

“Um,” he says, finally. “Sorry. Do you by any chance know where the Rogers lecture room is?”

She purses her lips and nods, striding past him further down the hall. After a moment, he follows her to the elevator and waits as she jabs aggressively at the up button. There’s a long, awkward silence while the elevator gets to their floor, broken only by the loud ding when it arrives. 

The ride up between floors is even more painful, if that’s possible. Sirius tries to occupy himself by looking at the ceiling, which is mirrored, so he looks at the wall instead. It’s patterned like a booth in some sort of high-class restaurant—greenish, with vaguely paisley-shaped blotches here and there. 

Finally, they arrive at a hallway identical to the one they came from. The walls are the same off-white; the floors have the same grey carpeting. If he didn’t know better, Sirius would say they hadn’t moved at all. 

The girl walks out, the soles of her pink high-tops squeaking until she’s out of the elevator and into the hall. She turns around. 

“Well, come on, then,” she tells him, voice not at all how he had expected. It’s the first time he’s heard her speak, and he’s surprised at the eastern accent. Nova Scotia, he guesses, or New Bruinswick. He nods wordlessly. 

He finds himself being led into a small lecture room—smaller than any he’s ever been in, anyway—with fifteen or so other students milling around, chatting and laughing. On the whiteboard at the front of the room, someone’s written Glendale A.L.L. Creative Writing Seminar. 

Looking left, then right, and finding that his red-haired saviour has vanished into the crowd, he sits down at the very back of the room. He has around thirty seconds of awkwardly waiting for something to happen before there’s a shout of “Sit down and shut up!” from somewhere near the front. 

When the smoke clears—or, if he abandons the metaphors, everyone else has chosen a seat and he can actually see who’s speaking—it turns out the person addressing the room is the same girl who led him there. She’s smiling, now, unlike when she was with him, and her hands are outstretched in front of her. 

“Hi, everyone! Welcome to the A.L.L., or Alumni-Led Lectures, creative writing seminar—free, because we know you’re university students and you therefore have no money.” This gets a ripple of laughter from the seated students, and her shoulders rise a little more. Sirius knows why; positive audience feedback does the same thing to him. “I’m Lily Evans, and I graduated from University of Glenrow last year with a bachelor’s in Engligh lit. I’m going to be your main instructor for the next few months. Here with me to help me out, because I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own, is my good friend John Lupin.”

A boy, tall and lanky, peels himself away from the wall and goes to stand beside her. She says something else, but Sirius doesn’t hear it, because his eyes are fixed on her companion and his ears are ringing. 

Whatever Lily says, that boy’s name isn’t John. 

It’s Remus. 

And he broke up with Sirius two weeks ago. 

[writesfic]

lily of the valley; 山谷之莲

Jiang Wanyin wakes to the smell of petrichor on his nose. He turns his gaze to the slats of the windows, where autumn rain is falling just before the sunrise. Life is still; the Sect Grounds are dark.

He is restless; sleep does not return to him. He dresses hastily, bequeathed with a rare comfort of anonymity in the still hours of pingdan. The chill settling in reminds him to pile on an extra layer, and he opts for a nondescript layer of earth-coloured cloth, and a low brimmed hat to combat the autumn drizzle.

The lake is deserted. Even street vendors have not begun their preparation for sales, and carts are left closed up and locked on the side of the pier, the rocking of deserted boats in the calm sway of the water’s motion. The background bitterly reminds him of the rare excitement he’d possessed as a child, eager to go frolicking in the shallow waters of the pier. To taste the sweet lotus seed borne by the lake. 

He looks down at the boat, skinny like the sickle moon. The figures of shijie and Wuxian laughing, playing with water; Wuxian handing him rotten or empty lotus pods with a sly grin on his lips; shijie wringing out their robes whenever they’d fallen in due to excitement.

He dares not consume the buds anymore; even the heady scent of lotus root soups brings a dry anxiety to his mouth. The lake is tainted in bloody memory. With loss.

The two ghostly scenes overlap in his eyes, the hazy memory of that battle, the childhood joys; his own choked up feelings. Today, he stares out into the misty lake, the shadowy bumps of the lotus roots and flowers stagnant in the water.

Nothing has remained.

He clutches the metal curvature of zidian. He hasn’t brought Sandu out today, for fear of being recognized, but zidian is an inconspicuous object he can hide under his sleeves. He clutches it tightly, knuckles white in his search for comfort. It pulses hot in response to his alien core. A faint glow of purple overshadowed by rain-casted mist in response to something stolen. His other hand holds a burning oil lamp aloft, a lonely speck along the pier’s edge.

His chest aches something fierce, and he looks over the pier’s edge. Wonders how he’s doing.

Like those fifteen odd years he’d spent choked up in grief, Wuxian’s gone, yet again. A dandelion’s segments floating across the mountain valleys in the wind. No matter who it’d been, Wen Qing xiaojie, the Ghost General, Lan er-gongzi; they’d all amount to more. More than Wanyin, and that promise Wuxian had sworn by, that easy smile on his lips as if they were speaking the truth, the weight of the words heavy and tangible; all Wuxian had promised that day had burnt to ash on his tongue like bitter lies.

That day he had admitted to being the one at fault for breaking such a promise was nothing but a hollow victory. Wanyin’s words caught in his throat. He’d wanted to ask: why? Was I not enough to be your purpose of staying?

He now knows Wuxian had been caught up in something bigger than himself, that it had chewed him up, swallowed and spat him out in parts. Broken and ravaged. Yet, he’d chosen to bear that on his shoulders all alone, wall himself up and become an island. Wanyin couldn’t have done anything, except watch him self-destruct, hear his allies spread false lies and rumors of his estranged brother.

When the Ghost General tells him of the golden core transfer, the truth rattles his senses, down to his bones. He wants to scream, to demand: what right had he, to sacrifice such a thing for him? To keep it from him as he suffered?

He wants to cry, because his mother was right, that he had amounted to more than he ever would, despite all his efforts.

The Ghost General’s stare is unnerving; abyss-like scleras from deep sunken eyes stare unblinkingly into his. Wanyin’s grip on Suibian trembles.

Years, he’d spent in charge of the Jiang Sect, building a name for himself and staking his claim; yet it’s clear he’s been chasing after that man, ever since that day in the Burial Mounds where Wuxian had driven a stake in the shaky earth between them to wedge apart indelibly. 

The words in his throat like ash, choking him. Eyes watering with the painful memory of that private grave he had marked out for his brother, miles out of town, facing the water. The cups of Emperor’s Smile that he had poured into the earth; and at his worst, the ones he’d drank dry and filled again with tears for the brother he had loved and lost.

He truly wonders, if Wuxian would, could ever understand; the pain he had felt but could not express to his brother, who had escaped his grasp like the bobbing lotus flowers in the water, as they slid along the current to the sea.

He stays a stagnant figure as the morning rises, and the bustle of the activity sets into Yunmeng. Then, as the tips of sun rays light up the lake’s surface, that which he had adored unthinkingly during the greedy ignorance of his childhood, fingers tangled up in the stalks and mud as water brushed along his legs, he lifts the oil lamp, now burned down to the wicker, lowers his head, and returns home.

云深不知处被烧，蓝湛有魏无羡担忧，有兄长担起蓝家，而江澄面对火光冲天的莲花坞，泪是自己忍，江家大旗一人举起，无人伴，无人疼。

“With the burning of the Cloud Recesses, Lan Zhan had the worry of Wei Wuxian, had his Elder Brother’s support of the Lan Family; yet Jiang Cheng faces Lotus Pier skylit by firelight, tears reigned alone, the Jiang Family’s Flag held aloft by a set of solitary hands, without companion, without pity.”

—— 墨香铜臭，魔道祖师

[thejilyship]

It’s just Coffee

Lily is partnered with James for an Econ project that he seems unwilling to make time for. When he shows up forty minutes late to her flat, she finds out why.

single parent, college, modern, muggle au

ff.net | ao3

Lily Evans to James Potter: You’re late. Again.

James: I know, and I’m very sorry, but it was unavoidable

Lily: Of course it was.  

James: I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Lily: If you’re any later than that, I’m going to lock the door and not let you in.

James: Completely fair! See you in a few

James: Also, I have to bring someone with me, hope that’s alright!

Lily: I s2g, it better not be Sirius

James: it’s not Sirius, he’s on a date and he’s a git and I’m never speaking to him again

James: I’ll be there soon

 Lily put her phone down and frowned. She tapped her pencil against her textbook and looked up at the clock. He’d said that he’d meet with her at six so they could finish this stupid group project that they’d been partnered by their professor to do.

James was not the person that Lily would have chosen to be her partner. Not only was it now six thirty, and he hadn’t even texted to let her know that he was running late, but he’d been late to their last meet up as well. He hadn’t even wanted to meet up the last time. He’d tried to convince her that they could just finish their project after class, even though Lily had another class to get to just thirty minutes after.

But it was fine.

She took a deep breath through her nose and then slowly let it out. This was the last time that they’d have to meet up, and then she could go back to hating this class solely for the damned TA’s unjust disdain for her and the boring source material.

She looked over what she and James had scrapped together so far, and what she’d added for the both of them since she’d been sitting here for almost forty minutes now. It was a short presentation about economic principals. The work was tedious and monotonous, she’d almost offered to just put the entire thing together on her own multiple times just because he was always acting like he had something better to do and she was annoyed with him.

But she couldn’t in good conscious, let someone else take a grade that she worked for, whether it had been difficult to get or not.

She had almost been looking forward to working with James when they were first partnered. He was cute, and he was funny, and he usually sat next to her and there had definitely been some flirting. She knew very little about him. He was a football player, he had amazing hair that he was constantly playing with, his eyes were dangerously mesmerizing, and he was late for class almost every day.

It was six thirty-nine when there was a knock on her door.

Lily felt both annoyed that he’d taken nine of the ten minutes, and a bit guilty for giving him such a hard time. People were busy, sometimes time got away from them.

But as she walked to the door, she got annoyed again because showing up forty minutes late said a lot about how little you thought of the person whose time you were wasting. Her time was valuable too, even if she wasn’t a student athlete. She could have been working on her orgo homework instead of messing around with the font sizes and wording on their presentation while she waited for him.

“I’m sorry,” James said as he walked into her flat. He always walked in like a storm. His hair was wild, his limbs moving with direction and purpose, his eyes flashing. Lily stepped back, giving him a wide girth.

Unlike every other time she’d seen him storm into a room, today, he was carrying a car seat.

“Sirius was supposed to watch Harry for me so that we could finish this project, and then he ‘forgot’ to tell me that he had a date until after I was already supposed to be here. I tried texting Remus, but he’s got his calc lab tonight and Peter’s working in the library- also I didn’t want to be this late, so I didn’t really reach out further than that.” He was talking a mile a minute, but Lily could hardly register what he was saying, she just stared at the round little face in the carrier.

“You have a baby?” She asked, and then she was crouching down so that she could get a better look. “Harry,” She reached out and took his little foot between her thumb and pointer.

“Yeah, Harry. He’s eight months old.” Lily looked up to find James’ hand in his hair. “He’ll probably fall asleep in a bit, so finishing our project shouldn’t be a problem.” He looked at the watch on his wrist and then pushed his glasses up to rub at one of his eyes.

“James, you could have just told me that tonight didn’t work for you.” Lily said, feeling guilty again. He should have communicated better, but he looked a frazzled. “If you need to take him home and put him to bed- I don’t want this stupid project to ruin his night.”

“What?” James’ glasses fell back onto his nose as he looked down at her. “No, he sleeps like a rock, so he’ll be fine. I just left his bag down in the car.” He made to lift the car seat again and Lily shook her head.

“You can leave him with me if you want. I live on the third floor of a building with no elevator. Unless you’re trying to impress someone, it’s insane to carry this thing up and down again.” She gestured to the car seat and he looked as though he was debating something. Lily almost started listing out the reasons she was qualified to be left alone with an infant.

“You’re sure?” James asked before she could tell him that she was CPR certified.  

“Of course.” Lily was sitting cross legged in front of the car seat now, smiling at Harry who was smiling right back at her. She’d already forgotten about econ.

James watched her and Harry for a moment longer and then rushed out the door.

“Well isn’t this a surprise,” Lily said, speaking with Harry as though he was an old acquaintance and not an eight-month-old. “I don’t know why your daddy thought I wouldn’t understand that he needed a bit of leeway here. I thought he just wanted to hang out with his friends or play with his hair, but he was probably with you, yes? And who wouldn’t want to be with you,” She wiggled his foot again and Harry laughed. Lily fought the urge to take the infant out of its car seat and hug him to her chest. “Why are you so cute?” She shook her head and Harry laughed again.

It didn’t take James long to run back up with Harry’s diaper bag.

“I just need a third arm and then this will be easier.” He said, closing her door behind him and setting Harry’s bag next to his own.

“I’m sure your coach doesn’t mind all the extra stairs you just had to scale.” Lily grinned, though she was still looking at Harry. “He’s like a perfect clone. Except for the eyes.”

James crouched down next to her. “You been paying attention to my eyes, Evans?”

“No, I’ve simply noticed that they’re not this brilliant shade of green.” Lily said coolly, turning to give him a look. “Green eyes aren’t nearly as common as people think. So for those of us with green eyes…”

“Sure.” James nodded, “Pretend like you don’t know what color my eyes are.” They were still looking at each other and Harry laughed again, kicking his feet. “Alright, alright, I’ll get you out of there.”

Soon, the three of them were at the table, and James was paying much more attention to their econ assignment than Lily was. But Harry was eating cheerios and kept getting them stuck to his chin and Lily couldn’t be blamed for being distracted.

“Do you want to hold him?” James asked after Lily had leaned across the table to help Harry find the cheerio that was stuck to the tip of his nose.

Lily bit the tip of her tongue and nodded. “I wasn’t sure if it was okay to ask.”

James laughed and held Harry out to her across the table. Lily held out her arms, making sure that Harry wanted to come and sit with her before she took him. He reached out to her happily, grabbing a fist full of her hair almost immediately.

“I like her hair too, Harry,” James laughed, picking up a pencil now that his hands were free, and adding a few things to their notes.

“Are you using your child to flirt with me?”

“No,” James looked back up at her, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “I was flirting with you when he wasn’t here. I’m just continuing to flirt with you now that he’s here. I’m being consistent.”

“Ah,” Lily nodded as she gently pulled her hair from Harry’s grip. She tossed it up into a quick plait to prevent it from happening again and then looked over at James again. “I’m sorry I’m not helping.”

James laughed and shook his head. “I noticed that you added to it before I got here. And I brought the distraction. No need to apologize.”

“You did bring the distraction,” Lily agreed, letting Harry stand up on her lap. He started bouncing happily and Lily started singing nonsense that made him laugh some more. “I’m either hilarious, or you’re delirious.” Harry was still laughing, and Lily shook her head. “Delirious then.”

“He normally goes to bed about now.” James nodded, looking at his watch again. It was seven thirty and Lily didn’t feel like they’d been in her flat for almost an hour. She pressed her lips together for a moment and then nodded.

“There’s no reason we can’t finish up the rest of this online. We’ve already got the outline for the rest of the project done.”

“You’re sure you wouldn’t mind finishing it up that way?” James asked, and it was obvious that he would prefer to take his baby home before he fell asleep, so Lily nodded, even though she was not sure that she wanted to let Harry, or his father, go just yet.

“I don’t mind at all. I told you that I didn’t want to mess with his sleep.”

“Thanks,” His shoulders relaxed, and he started packing up his bag.

“And James,” Lily nabbed his attention. “Next time you can just tell me that you need to reschedule.”

“Oh? Are you going to pretend that you haven’t been very annoyed with my being late all the time?”

“No,” Lily shook her head. “Though I can be more understanding now that I know you’re not blowing off econ just for fun.”

“Right,” James nodded. “It’s not… I mean, it can be a little awkward telling people that I have a kid. And I don’t want to use him as an excuse- unless my mates are trying to get me to go out and get shitfaced on a Tuesday.” He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “And then sometimes I go too long without telling someone that Harry is around, and then it’s awkward when they find out. I’m still trying to work out how to handle it all.”

“Completely unacceptable.” Lily deadpanned. James laughed.

“Right, well, thank you for being understanding and for not getting upset that I had to bring him with me.”

Lily narrowed her brow. “Who would get upset?”

James shrugged. “People have all kinds of weird reactions when you ask them to be accommodating.” James stood up and so Lily did too, sliding Harry deftly to her hip as they made their way toward the door.

“I suppose that’s true. But if you want to bring him to any future projects we have to do, I’ll do my best not to be annoyed.”

James snorted, “Right. You look very annoyed right now.” He put Harry’s snacks back into his pack and then held out his hands to take Harry back.

Lily gave Harry a hug first and then handed him back. “I’m only a little annoyed.”

“So, you like kids, do you?”

“What gave me away?”

James laughed and Lily grinned.

And then Harry was all strapped in and James was carrying everything he had brought with him. “Alright, well then, I’ll text you when he’s down so we can finish up our project. See in class?”

Lily nodded. “Sounds good,” She waved at Harry. “Hope to see you around too, little one.” Harry laughed at her again, but this time it was immediately followed by a big yawn. “I feel you,” She nodded.

She opened the door for James and waved again, this time at him. “See you later.”

 As Lily has thought, their project required no further face to face meetings, which she no longer thought was a relief. Now that she knew James wasn’t some inconsiderate ass who thought it was fine to show up thirty or forty minutes late, she found that she liked more than just his hair or his eyes.

James had texted her after he’d gotten Harry to sleep, only they hadn’t stopped texting after they had finished their project.

And then they never really stopped texting.

And the flirting in class came back tenfold.

She was sitting on the couch, her feet propped up on the arm, her head resting on Mary’s lap, and her phone glued in front of her face when Mary tugged on her hair.

“You texting that econ boy again?” She asked.

“You know that I am.”

“I do know that. I was starting a conversation though, and I wasn’t just going to jump right into the middle, was I?”

“You’ve been known to do worse.” Lily set the phone down on her chest and looked up at her friend.

“Have you even seen him outside of class yet?” Mary asked, still looking at her own phone.

“No, but I didn’t even like him until-“

“Until he showed you his baby.” Mary sighed and looked down at her. “Babies are like crack to you.”

“I don’t like him because he has a baby.” Lily said. “I forgave him for being late so often because he has a baby. I liked him before though.”

“You mentioned his hair a couple times,” Mary nodded. “But I wasn’t really trying to give you a hard time for your weird fascination with small humans.”

“It’s not weird to like kids, Mary. You like kids.”

“Sure, and do I wish that I had been home while there had been a baby right here? Where I am every day? Yes, but I was just trying to tease you, let it go so we can get to the point.”

“If you started conversations with your point-“

“Are you going to ask this bloke out?”

Lily pressed her lips together. “Am I allowed to ask him out?”

“Do you want to?”

“I… want him to ask me out.” Mary whacked her on the arm and Lily cried out. “Only so I know that it’s okay! I’ve asked blokes out before, I’m not scared!”

“You are totally a scardy-cat, but have you considered that maybe he doesn’t think it’s okay to ask you out?”

“He said that he was still trying to figure things out with Harry.” Lily said, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger.

“So the two of you are just going to keep obnoxiously texting one another to no end?” Mary asked. “And look, if that is the reason that he says no to a date, will it crush you? Will you be unable to go on?”

Lily pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Well then…”

“Alright. Alright I get your point.”

Mary narrowed her brow and stayed quiet.

“What?”

“Well go ahead and ask him out.”

“I can’t do it now! We’re talking about how The Voice was a better show before they made all the rule changes.”

“I don’t know why you’re hung up on that-“

“They need to get Adam back, that’s why.”

“Ask out your boy, Evans. Or else.”

“I don’t like it when you say that. I never know what it means.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

“You filled my entire pillowcase with shaving cream once.”

“Well, you’re the one that didn’t listen to me, so who’s fault was that?”

Lily shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “Definitely yours.”

“You’re stalling.” Mary grabbed Lily’s wrist and moved her arm so that Lily’s phone was in front of her face again. “Ask him out. Ask him to dinner here, or for coffee or something else lowkey.”

“You think asking him to dinner here, where I’d cook for him, is lowkey?” Lily’s brow went up. “Remind me to help you out if you ever think about asking someone out.”

“I didn’t say you had to cook for him- you could order in- oh shut up and text him.”

Lily huffed and then clicked on her phone again.

James: Last season was weird anyway just because everyone knew Maelin was going to win from the beginning

Lily: Yes, so I’m going to change the subject now

James: Thank you for the warning lol

Lily: right

Lily: I know that you’re really busy, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime. Coffee maybe?

As soon as she hit send, she shoved her phone into the couch cushions.

“You did it already?” Mary asked, surprised.

“You told me to!” Lily pushed herself up and spun around toward Mary.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t know, I turned off my screen.”

“Well you gotta look!”

“I know that!” Lily pulled her knees up to her chest. “He’s going to say no. He’s going to tell me that he doesn’t have time.”

“You don’t know that.” Mary said. “He might say ‘yes.’”

“He might say ‘yes.’” Lily agreed and then dug her phone out of the cushions.

James: You asking me out, Evans?

“He didn’t even answer yet, he just wants to know if I’m asking him out.” Lily’s heart was in her throat.

“Well then clarify! I should have proofread your text.”

“I asked him if he wanted to go out sometime. That’s pretty clear!”

Lily: Of course, I’m asking you out.

“Is saying ‘of course’ a bit aggressive? It’s too late if you’re going to say yes because I’ve already sent the message.”

“No, it’s cute.” Lily looked at Mary. “Sort of aggressive, but in a cute way. Maybe.”

James: Right, of course you are. Why wouldn’t you?

James: I’d love to go out with you

“He said yes!”

“Okay, play it cool!” Mary was on her knees next to her now.

Lily: Love? Relax. I asked you to coffee

“That’s a bit too cool,” Mary laughed. Lily shoved her.

“Don’t read over my shoulder.”

“I’ll do what I want!” But she sat back down.

Lily bit her tongue and settled back against the couch. She really liked this bloke.

James: It’s your enthusiasm that’s bolstering me thanks

James: You free before class on Thursday?

Lily: I am.

James: You were

James: Meet you at one?

Lily: So I should show up at one thirty then?

James: I can be on time occasionally

Lily: Proof?

James: I can tell that you really do like me

James: I’m so excited for you to tease me in person

Lily: teasing is 90% of how I flirt so

Lily: I hope you don’t mind.

James: Nah, I don’t.

[dramaticsnakes]

6. “You make every day worth living.” + roman ship of your choice? 💖

Thank you so much for sending in a prompt!💖

It took me a little to decide which Roman ship I wanted to write, but I ended up settling on Royality. It’s some fluff with a hint of hurt/comfort. I hope it turned out okay! 

Ship: Royality

Word count: 2151

TW: Nothing I can think of. Please tell me if I missed something!

Summary: Roman is having a bad day. Patton finds him, and makes it a little better.

Roman was sitting by the lake he’d created. It wasn’t a very interesting lake, only having two lily pads in it, and a few plants next to it, but it did the trick of filling up the empty space that only mocked each creative bone in Roman’s body.

“Roman?” a sweet voice said.

Roman turned his head and was met by the sight of his boyfriend, Patton, wearing a lovely blue colour, that made Roman think of a sky. A blue and pretty sky, rather than the grey and cloudy one Roman had created in that moment.

“Dear-heart?” Roman asked, attempting to sound as natural as possible. He didn’t want Patton to get too worried. To be fair though, the fact that Patton had sought Roman out in the first place, made that seem like a difficult task. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, silly!” Patton replied with a smile. The smile that always lit up the room, but a hesitant one as well.

Roman chuckled, hoping the slight gloominess wasn’t showing too much. “You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”

“I wanted to.” Patton said, and that made Roman’s heart skip a beat. It sounded genuine, but so did most of the things Patton said. “Can I sit here? I can leave if you want to be alone.”

Roman hesitated at that. Did he want to be alone? That was why he’d gone out there wasn’t it? To get away from the others, and make sure they didn’t see him like that. Though now that Patton was there, the idea of him leaving seemed to tug uncomfortably at his heart. “No no. You can sit here if you’d like.”

As Patton moved closer to the lake, Roman became increasingly aware of just how dull the landscape looked. There was nothing but grass as far as the eye could see, the only exception being the lake and the flowerless bushes placed near it. A testament to Roman’s capabilities right then. Patton sat down next to Roman, and Roman found himself staring at Patton’s hand as he placed it on a patch of grass, in a natural and circular movement. Patton locked eyes with Roman, and Roman swallowed something in his throat. “Are you okay?” Patton asked.

“More or less.” Roman replied. He didn’t want to lie, so the non-committal response seemed like the favourable option. “How about you?”

“I’m good.” Patton said. Roman analysed his expression to make sure he was telling the truth, but that wasn’t really Roman’s specialty. Patton looked at the lake. “It’s nice here.”

Roman flinched. “It’s boring.”

“I like the little touches on the lake. The lily pads are so cute! It looks real.” Patton said encouragingly, with a smile that warmed Romans heart even for just a moment. Patton’s presence was always addicting. Bright and comforting in a way Roman always wanted to keep close.

“Everything can seem real here.” Roman added, but after a moment he said, “Thank you.” as he didn’t want to appear ungrateful. He always appreciated compliments even if he had a hard time believing them. If it had been a different kind of day, perhaps he would’ve added some confident comment as well, but he didn’t. He thought for a moment. “You deserve an even prettier sight, to match your enchanting self.”

Roman caught a blush on Patton’s cheek, and felt like he’d achieved something. “Not as enchanting as the most handsome prince in the world.”

At this, Roman made a strange chuckling sound that was probably rather unappealing, but Patton’s smile didn’t fade. Roman sighed fondly and hummed. “I’m so lucky I have you. What did I ever do to deserve that?”

That made Patton frown. Roman’s heart dropped. “Don’t you dare sell yourself short.” Patton said seriously, “I will physically fight you.”

“I’d win.” Roman retorted.

Patton giggled. He gestured dramatically in a way that made Roman wonder if he was beginning to mimic Roman’s gestures without realizing it. “Don’t count on it. I can be quite powerful when fuelled by love.”

The word ‘love’ made Roman feel as if a cloud was moving up towards his throat. He smiled. “Ha. Sorry I doubted you, dearest.”

Patton chuckled and Roman noticed that some of the clouds were moving in the sky above him. The pair fell into a comfortable silence where both stared at the nearly empty lake.

Roman cared for Patton deeply. A level of care he almost never felt before. Like the satisfaction of working on a passion project and it being well-received. Patton made Roman want to be a hero, which made it all the more painful when Roman was having days like this. Days where no line or word made any sense. Where nothing seemed to fit together as seamlessly as he always hoped it would. Days where Roman had no way to channel any of his passion and make the others believe in him. Days where he couldn’t fulfil his purpose optimally.

But Roman felt a different type of passion when Patton was around. A passion that made him want to build castles, raise mountains, and destroy any monster that led Patton in harm’s way. Though Patton wasn’t fragile, even if it felt like it sometimes. Patton was powerful, and strong, in a way Roman could only dream of being. While Roman studied Patton’s serene expression, he perked up. “No, this place certainly doesn’t suit someone as breath-taking as you, my love.” Patton turned his head, “What would you like? I’ll make anything for you! Anything you desire! Just say the word.”

Patton’s breathing became unsteady and his cheeks had a pinkish hue. He smiled warmly and giggled. “Like what?”

“I don’t know…” Roman said. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again, gesturing vividly as he spoke. “A beautiful castle in all the colours of the rainbow, with a garden just for you, with all your favourite flowers, that you can walk around in for hours. You’d have your own throne room decorated exactly the way you want it.”

Patton was looking into Roman’s eyes with a spellbound expression. “What else?”

“Perhaps your very own kingdom, with your own people. They would love a ruler as beautiful and loving as you. The landscape would have mountains and adorable animals all around. You could have your own animal sidekick like in a Disney movie! You would make such a dashing prince.”

“You’re the only dashing prince I know.” Patton said, and Roman’s heart rate immediately increased.

“W-we could rule it together for as long as y-you’d like. Anytime you might want to get away from it all.” he paused, “Not that I assume that’s what you’d want…”

Roman’s breath hitched, as Patton took his hand. Roman noted that the skin was particularly soft that day, and the touch seemed to satisfy something within Roman he hadn’t realized had been left untended. “Anything else in mind?”

Roman really hoped his hand wasn’t shaking. “I uhm… A world in the sky! I could make the clouds stable enough to walk on, and we could make you an outfit that fits it. A beautiful white and puffy dress or a stunning suit.” Roman caught himself staring at their joined hands and Patton’s glimmering eyes. “O-or if you want some more excitement we could go explore. I’d set up an adventure for us. We could travel through an enchanted forest and… and uhm…”

“Yes?”

Roman wasn’t sure. “I-I’m out of ideas, but that’s not the point.“ he took a deep breath and sent Patton the best smile he could muster. “Anything. Anything you desire. Anything that will make every single day more enjoyable for you, my love. Brighten things up when you need it. You’re an eternal source of happiness yourself, and I want to return the favour.”

At this, Patton gasped lightly. He smiled almost melancholically at Roman and placed his free hand on Roman’s cheek. Roman wanted nothing more than to ease into the touch and let the hand linger there forever. “You.” Patton whispered.

Roman froze, and his heart was beating fast. His cheeks felt incredibly warm. “What?” Roman said almost inaudibly.

Patton’s smile became wider and Roman could’ve sworn his eyes sparkled. “You don’t need to give me anything. You being here and talking like that brightens up my day as it is. There is no favour to return and if there was, you’d already have returned it. Roman…” Patton caressed Roman’s cheek and lead his thumb down the back of Roman’s hand. The words that followed felt significant and genuine. “You make every day worth living.”

Roman didn’t know what to say to that. His vocal cords weren’t working with him and his mind could barely think of anything but the side in front of him. He wanted to say something back. Every instinct inside of him said ‘No’ because that couldn’t be it. It wasn’t what Roman was saying. He wanted to do something for Patton. Express his love somehow. Surely Patton knew that the happiness Patton gave could be no match for any other? “I…” Roman tried, but the words weren’t coming out. It was almost as frustrating as creating something of quality seemed to be right then.

Patton smiled and the grey clouds no longer seemed real. “You’re so handsome when you talk about things, you’re passionate about.” Roman became incredibly aware of the movement of Patton’s hands. “You’re always handsome, but there is something special about that nonetheless.”

Roman was silent for a few breaths. “Ha. I-I could say the same thing about you.” he chuckled uncertainly, “Outmatching me in words too now, I see.”

Patton hummed. His eyes didn’t leave Roman, but Roman could tell that Patton was a bit nervous from the posture alone. “Roman, love isn’t a measurable exchange or a competition.” he smiled, “It’s just kind of there, I think.”

Patton let go of Roman’s cheek, which made Roman grasp Patton’s hand a bit tighter. He didn’t want to let go. Not yet. Not unless Patton attempted to first, of course. “And you’re sure there isn’t anything I can make for you?”

Patton looked thoughtful for a moment. “How about a frog?”

Roman snorted. “A frog?”

“Well, the lake could use some life, and they’re cute.”

Roman tilted his head. “Wouldn’t you have sort of a… A complicated relationship with them after-“

“They’re growing on me.” Patton interrupted with a smile, “I feel like they get me.”

Roman laughed in a way that was more genuine than before. Patton laughed too, and it was a wonderful sound. “And you don’t want anything else?”

Patton shrugged. “If you want to make something, you can do that, but I don’t think I should be the priority now.” Roman was about to interrupt, but Patton silenced him by taking his other hand, “You’re clearly tired, and this is a perfect place for you to relax. It’s not a good idea to give all of your love to others. Save some for you.” Patton looked down sadly for a moment. “Trust me.”

Roman felt warm, and as he looked up, he noticed that the clouds were almost entirely gone. He smiled fondly. “A frog it is then.”

Roman waved his hand, and a tiny frog appeared by the edge of the lake. It jumped forward and Patton beamed. He let go of Roman’s hands and lay down on his stomach, watching the frog intently. “It’s so cute!” Patton exclaimed, and Roman almost didn’t mind the lack of touch when he saw the pure unfiltered happiness Patton radiated.

Roman felt a little lighter as if he could fly. He probably could if he wanted to. Patton sat up again, cross-legged, only about an inch away from Roman. His smile was so filled with love, and so much of it was directed at Roman. Roman didn’t know how to accept it all. Patton’s cheeks were red, and he tilted his upper body a little. His head landed on Roman’s shoulder, and Roman gasped. Patton sent Roman a look that said, ‘Is this okay?’. Roman nodded. He could feel the heart beating in his chest, and he wondered if Patton could hear it too.

“It’s okay, you know?” Patton said. He didn’t have to speak very loudly for Roman to hear. “You don’t have to create things all the time. We all work a lot. You’re brilliant no matter what. Without you, Thomas wouldn’t be where he is today. You’ve done so much already.”

Once again, Roman couldn’t say anything. He felt like he was supposed to have something to say, but he couldn’t make sense of all the thoughts that seemed to rush by at an unreasonable number of miles per hour. He breathed. “I love you so much, dear-heart.”

Patton felt warm against Roman’s shoulder. “I love you too.”

[vanaera]

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝟎𝟐 | 𝐣𝐣𝐤

Synopsis: A future technology allows cops to jump in the past and future to investigate crimes that have happened and prepare for those that are about to happen. A simple hit-and-run turns into something more when Captain Jeon Jungkook finds himself as the victim of a culprit who cannot be identified by the system. Especially when the culprit seems to be the same person behind the new case that’s threatening the order in the justice organization. All goes haywire when Jungkook gets involved with Y/N L/N, the clairvoyant sketch artist who may be his only help to solve the case.

Characters: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre/AU: Sci-fi, romance, angst, mystery, action (cop!JK x artist!you), based on the movie Minority Report

Wordcount: 8.2k

Warnings: Dark themes and implied smut (in future chapters); heavy descriptions of a hit-and-run; mentions of blood from injuries (PG-16 Rating)

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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭

              The skies were gray and the streets were damp and yet the air remains humid. The scorching heat on the pavement permeates the soles of his leather combat boots. It’s the familiar stench of Down Hill. Jungkook could already smell it when he’s just reaching the boundary between it and Middle Town.

              Jungkook looks down at the scrap of paper that’s been in his pocket since the day started. Namjoon had to write the address of this Y/N L/N, lest DOJ traces his electronic trail and take him in for unnecessary questioning. Jungkook himself had to make up some petty excuse of a “hurting arm” to file a day-off. He just hopes all of this spent effort will worth him something.

              Jungkook nears the 7-Eleven sitting in the fork of the streets. Namjoon wrote Y/N’s studio is cramped among the apartments around this area. He said she never really penned down a home to accommodate covert meet-ups like this. All she has is her studio. 

              In “Mini Palais, 23-B,” Jungkook mutters again, huffing in front of a door with cracking cadet blue paint. He finds the unit after climbing up a series of stairs at the end of the alleyway jammed between the decaying 7-Eleven and a battered motor shop. Jungkook raises his hand to knock when the door bursts open.

              In front of him is a girl. Namjoon already said so and although Jungkook thinks it’s accurate enough for the girl who’s looking up at him through chopped raven bangs, it also wasn’t really enough to describe her. Because the girl in front of him was an aberrant mix of a girl and a woman. Jungkook thinks she’s around her early thirties if he were to consider Namjoon’s history of working with her for about ten years in FJO. There are faint lines around her eyes to support that. However, her relatively small height, plump cheeks, and the natural rosy hue of her lips beg to decrease ten years off that supposed age.  With her youthful face, messy half-bun, and the white, floral off-shoulder dress flowing past her knees, no one will argue with Jungkook if he were to say she’s just 22. 

              “Who are you?”

              “Oh, um,” Jungkook flashes his badge, “I’m Jungkook Jeon, a captain in the Federal Justice Organization. Precrime, Murder sector. I’m here to um, avail your…services for a case.”

              The girl cocks her head to the side and gives him a once over. “I’m sorry, I don’t do services for the FJO anymore.” She moves to close the door but Jungkook was quick to block a foot between it and the wall.

              “I’m a contact of Namjoon’s!” Jungkook exclaims, “He’s Lieutenant Seokjin Kim’s close subordinate.” This is a card he didn’t want to use but it looks like he has no other choice left. Jungkook clears his throat. “Actually, I’m a very close contact of Namjoon. We’re best friends. I even live with him. He’s the one who told me to, um, consult you for the case I’m handling.” 

              The girl opens the door an inch. Jungkook hands a folded paper to her. She spreads it open and scans through the letter. Jungkook doesn’t know what it actually says. Namjoon just thrust it into his hands on his way out and told him not to open it. It must be an effective personal request because by the time the girl reaches the end, she’s pushing her door wide open, tilting her head to the side, beckoning him to come inside. However, her face remains grim.

              “I’m Y/N L/N. This is my studio. I know you already know I prefer to transact business here even for ones intended to be covert. So first off, I want to say I’m sorry you have to travel to such a place like this.”

              Jungkook shakes his head, “Oh no, it’s definitely alright—”

              “I kinda think it’s not when you grew up in a comfortable life. You must be quite shaken up.”

              Jungkook freezes. Y/N looks at him, “Oh, I didn’t look into you or something. It’s just a hypothetical guess, seeing your,” she motions to his silver watch. “That’s expensive. No one from here will be able to afford it anytime soon.”

              Jungkook’s shoulders turn lax. Y/N points to a chair next to a table in the corner. “Just wait there. I’m about to finish this piece in just a sec. Then I’m all yours.”

              Jungkook nods and makes himself comfortable on the seat. Unlike its appearance on the outside, Y/N’s unit is not much of a concrete wreck. It still looks a bit rough. The ceiling has cracks all over it.  A small white bulb precariously hangs on its center. It looks too weak to illuminate the whole room when the night comes. Jungkook thinks it’s a good thing that the unit has huge gaping rectangular windows to let in the natural light. The floor is cemented in gray but the work on it is unimpressive as there are numerous uneven layers, rough patches, and dents that could only be ascribed to poor mason work. The white wallpaper is torn around, some even wet at the edges—probably due to a leak during rains. 

              However, the flowers painted on them is vibrant enough to uplift the dreary unit. Paintings are littered around. Many are big, a few are small. Some were seated on easels, several are just laying around on the floor. Newspapers are strewn across the majority of the floor. Buckets and tin cans of paints line up the corners like a prayer circle. 

              All the colors present in the room can only be attributed to the paint that’s strewn across the newspapers, the paintings, and the 6’ tall canvas of an owl in flight Y/N is currently working on. The girl is standing on a small foldable ladder, painting the feathers of the bird at the top of the canvas. When the wind blows her hair to the side, Jungkook finds a mirage of colors on the scarlet spider lilies inked on her spine.

              After about two minutes, Y/N steps down and dumps her brush into a rusted bucket filled with water. She turns to the man on the chair and makes her way to the stool opposite his. She fixes down her dress and finally looks at Jungkook. “So, what case do you have for me?”

              “This,” Jungkook slides a couple of pictures toward her. They are the screen captures from the CCTV records that caught the black Jaguar. “There’s an unknown driver who’s doing an illegal time jump patterned to Precrime’s traveling agents. We tried to run in the license plate but it just turned to be ‘invalid.’ All we know is that the suspect is male, slim, and tall. He’s interested in the Winston Assassination, and has probably inside ties in FJO since he easily entered the Special Operations Building just ten days ago.”

              “None of the traveling agents has seen this man before? Precrime or Forecrime?”

              Jungkook shakes his head.

              Y/N licks a finger and flips to the next picture, “What about the car?”

              “None of the agents has seen a suspicious sedan sports Jaguar before. It’s the first time we have someone presumably well-to-do threatening the justice system.”

              Y/N nods. Jungkook inserts his hand into his pocket and retrieves a black USB. He hands it to the girl. “Here’s more of the screenshots from the CCTVs, taken in each second. I can’t give you the CCTVs because of the protocol. I can only give you these. Just imagine they’re moving,” Jungkook purses his lips as he looks at the girl. “I want you to identify this man for me.”

              Y/N tucks the USB into her dress’ pocket. She slides the pictures back to Jungkook. “This seems to be a heavy identification check then. Not that I couldn’t handle, of course. However, Namjoon must have told you that my rates are quite high—”

              “Money is not a problem.”

              Y/N cocks a brow, “So you did grow up a comfortable life.”

              Jungkook clenches his jaw.

              Y/N chuckles, “Okay, I’m not gonna dwell on it more. It’s settled then. Send your weekly payment to this account,” Y/N tears a piece from the rolls of paper by her side, scribbles on it, and hands it to him. “Every Friday, 10 AM sharp.” Jungkook looks at the paper before tucking it in the breast pocket of his leather jacket.

              Y/N crosses her arms, “We can start next week after you give me the downpayment.”

              Jungkook zips open a duffel bag and places a stack of bills on the table.

              “Eager, aren’t we?” Y/N smiles, “I like that.” She flips through the bills before deciding they’re legitimate and dumping it into a box by her feet. 

              Y/N turns to him. “Now, where are we? Oh—you must already know, but what I really do here is foreseeing the future for whatever cause you have. It’s not just trivial fortune-telling but a purposive one. I can accurately give you whatever you want to know.” 

              Jungkook nods. Y/N’s leans forward on the table. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t really have terms and conditions with my clients. Or any contract to ensure them their protection, as what I do tend to…increase risks. Emotional security and mental stability on your part. Those two and physical toll on mine. It will be absurd to provide any contract as what I am doing is anything but guaranteeing protection. I can’t also be fully transparent about the mechanisms behind the things I will do for you. Otherwise, my gift won’t work. What I can only assure is I’ll never proceed on any memories you have set boundaries on. Should you decide to stop this negotiation anywhere in the future, I will automatically concede and keep the confidentiality of whatever that may happen. As long as on your part, you won’t consider asking for a refund.”

              “I understand.”

              “Good,” Y/N smiles, “Now first things first. Tell me any hurting point you have.”

              Jungkook goes stiff. “Is this actually necessary?”

              Y/N nods. “I know this is a tough question, but we’re talking about memories here.”

              “I know but I can’t just divulge them to a stranger—"

              “I think you don’t get what I’m saying.” Y/N lets out a humorless chuckle. “Look, Jungkook, when I attempt to see the future concerning this elusive driver you’re after, it is inevitable for the past to re-appear. There is no future without any past. Your past memories can clog up with the ones involved in the case because you are in the case. You’re heading it. Good or bad, memories will come up. That’s their thing.  They spring up at the most inconvenient times. No matter how old they already are. No matter how long you must have already moved on from them. Memories demand to be remembered and you cannot just disregard them even if you will it to because it never gave anyone a choice to do otherwise.  So, if you don’t set the boundaries on the memories you don’t want me to cross, I’ll just see everything in their utter unadulterated form.” Y/N leans forward, “And I can assure you, you don’t want that to happen.” 

              Jungkook prods his cheek with his tongue. “Fine. I’ll give you my hurting point and that’s that. No further questions.”

              “Okay.”

              Jungkook digs in his back pocket for his wallet and flips it open. There’s a tattered white edge of a picture peeking through the flaps. It’s been years since he pulled it out. Its replica, now tucked in his shelf, has prevented him from doing so for so many years. Jungkook closes his eyes and slides it toward the girl. “This boy. Anything that concerns him, I don’t want you to cross or even bring up. Understand?”

              “Okay.” Y/N hands back the photo to him. “We go to the second step then. You must already have your assumed suspects. Tell me their names.”

              Jungkook draws back. “I can’t tell you that, that’s highly classified information. FJO’s protocol doesn’t allow it and—”

              “Do you seeking my help part of the protocol?”

              Jungkook looks down, “No.”

              “Right. So, tell me their names. I need to know them to make a memory map.”

              Jungkook’s brows meet “A what?”

              “A memory map,” Y/N repeats, “It’s something I make to identify points of certain memories in time. It guides me to the memories I need to tread to reach what I’m really looking for. It’s like a demo version of Forecrime’s box trainings but except of a machine, I’m doing it manually by hand. For all we know, the real suspect must be close to these suspects.” 

              Jungkook’s brow quirks up.

              Y/N leans forward, “So, tell me their names?”

              Jungkook turns his face away from her, looking at his clasped hands. “Well, I…only have one.”

              “And that is?”

              “Leigh Anderson. Winston’s assassin. FJO has been after him for 17 years. He also has a number of sponsors who’s been sending him missions with promises of large sums of money. But most of all, he’s rumored to have access to time jumping technologies. Illegal of course. FJO is the only one licensed to be utilizing them.”

              “That’s good,” Y/N quips. “Do you have any pictures of him?”

              Jungkook turns to his duffel bag and retrieves a picture. It’s Anderson in the scene of Winston’s murder that FJO has pinned to their system. The one in the crime record Jungkook produced. He hands it to Y/N. “Is this enough?”

              “More than enough,” Y/N smiles. She stands up and walks to one of her cupboards, reaching for a ceramic bowl. She pours some tap water in it and turns back to the table, a short, white candle in hand. She places the candle on the water, letting it float. She retrieves a lighter from her dress pocket and lights up the wick of the candle.

              Y/N puts her palms open on the table. “Let’s start now. Do you have your clicker with you?”

              Jungkook’s brows meet. “What?”

              “Your time jumper,” Y/N grits.

              Jungkook looks at her incredulously. “I don’t see any reason why would you need it—”

              “We’re going to the past to have a tangible memory to start on my memory map.” Before Jungkook could tear himself away from the table, Y/N launches forward and snatches the small, black device hanging on the man’s belt loop. Jungkook shoots an arm out and grabs onto it.

              But it’s too late. Y/N’s already pushed the button.

              The air is knocked out of Jungkook’s windpipe. A numbing pain starts to settle on his chest, a migraine forming on his temple. His limbs also feel stone-heavy. Precrime traveling has always been like this and yet Jungkook can never get used to it. However, he’s not left wondering about it for long because in the next second, Jungkook’s standing in front of a dark road. Tall shrubs and trees shadowing the moon, CCTVs mounted on the lamp posts lining the concrete. It’s Somerset Road.  

              Jungkook’s eyes widen. Why is he here? He tries to move but his limbs are stuck by his side, unmoving as he grunts. He tries to take a step back but the effort is futile when his feet are seemingly glued onto the dark asphalt. Jungkook sighs and turns to the road in front of him again. And this time around, Jungkook’s mouth falls ajar.

              Y/N is standing idly at the other side of the road, opposite of him.

              “H-how did you travel here—”

              A car zooms past. Jungkook turns his head to the sound. The air is punched out from his esophagus. It’s his car—the silver-gray Ford. And there at the other end of the road emerges a black sedan sports Jaguar. The Jaguar speeds on and drives into the Ford, swerving it around, tires screeching loud on the pavement. It topples down, rolling around, then round, and round. Three times, Jungkook counted. Just like the CCTV Hoseok retrieved. The Ford stops, upside down. The black Jaguar zips past it. Like the CCTVs have shown, the Jaguar reaches the other end of the street and disappears. A second passes. The body of the driver in the car drops onto the cold pavement. It lolls his head to his side, bloodied face turned towards the man standing on the pavement. 

              Jungkook’s facing right into his past. He isn’t reliving the memory. He is living it. There’s no anger but pain. Fresh, unadulterated pain that cannot be accounted to the lacerations on his injured arm.

              The wind howls. Jungkook remains frozen in his position. Then suddenly, everything stops—the distant honking of the cars, the wind, the clatter of the crushed car pieces falling onto the ground. What the fuck is happening? Jungkook turns around, only to come face to face with the girl.

              Y/N’s arm shoots forward and fists the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him down to her level. “You didn’t say this business is personal!”

              “It’s not a big deal,” Jungkook spits, tearing her hand off him.

              “It is, Jungkook! You said you were involved. I didn’t think it was this level of involved!”

              “It doesn’t change any fact that I’m still going to be involved either way! I’m still going to head this case because it’s tied with Winston. What difference does it make if I am the victim of this fucking man?!”

              “A lot!” Y/N screams. Jungkook stops. Y/N sighs, “It does a lot of difference, Jungkook. We’re already risking a lot in this until it turns out you’re a focal point in this case! You’re a fucking victim of this culprit! A conflict of interest is highly possible. You will be unable disassociate yourself from this and objectively investigate this case—” 

              “I don’t need you telling me what I should do or not, Y/N.” Jungkook steps forward to the girl. “I know what I’m doing. And I know it when I say I can investigate this following all the legal protocols.”

              Y/N tilts her head. “How can you say that when you’ve just been face-to-face with your past self?” 

              Before Jungkook can say anything, Y/N closes her eyes and clicks her finger. In just one second, everything around Jungkook falls beneath his feet—the trees, Somerset Road, his bloodied self. It rips themselves off from his senses until all he could see again is the dilapidated atelier, the barren ceilings, and, Y/N.

              Jungkook hunches over, coughing as air fills his lungs again. “H-how could you do that?”

              Y/N blows off the candle. “My gift.” She glances at the man. “The accident is taking a serious toll on you. I have to take us out of the time jump.”

                Jungkook sits back and glowers at her. “N-no, what I’m asking about is—how could you snatch my clicker and make a jump without any remorse? You do know that’s illegal!”

              “I know. ‘FJO’s traveling agents and officials are the only ones allowed by the law to engage in time jumping activities’ yaddah yaddah bullshit.”  Y/N leans on the table, face hovering the Captain’s. “But involving a then-law practitioner, much more an outsider like me, into your case is also illegal. I have my gift, yes. But I can only see the future and I won’t be able to see it accurately if I don’t have some sense of the past. Plus, I have no other pragmatic choice to start this case on the right foot. I already saw the future of our negotiation before you sat down on that stool. There’s nothing else I could say other than it didn’t end favorably for any of us.” Y/N turns back to the table she’s clearing, “Not that it’s any different now. Especially when I just learned the case you’ve showed me is more personal than you presented it to be.”

              Jungkook purses his lips. He stands up, gathers his things, and wordlessly makes his way out of the atelier. He didn’t bid the girl any farewell.

              “Looks like you haven’t been sleeping.”

              Jungkook looks up at his friend before looking down at his crossed arms, turning his attention back to his mug of coffee.

              Namjoon takes a seat cross Jungkook. “Did something happen?” He twirls the tea bag around his own mug, “Care to tell why you’ve been sporting those dark eye bags since two days ago?”

              “It’s nothing.”

              “It’s not nothing when the doctor precisely told you to have a healthy lifestyle to help your wound heal faster.”

              Jungkook looks at Namjoon.

              Namjoon points to his bandaged arm, “It indeed doesn’t look it’s healing fast like it’s supposed to.”

              Jungkook sighs. “Fine, you caught me.” He purses his lips then looks at his friend, “I’ve been wondering. You know our clickers are designed to identify the agent it was assigned to before it could work. But, is it…possible for clickers to work on someone that doesn’t belong to FJO as long as someone from FJO is present?”

              Namjoon keeps his gaze on him. A look of surprise seems to wash over his face. But it soon gets replaced by a look of recognition. Namjoon places the tea bag onto the saucer on his left. “I see you already met Y/N.”

              “Y-you knew that about her?”

              “I do,” Namjoon mutters over his cup of tea. “I learned it when the Bureau looked into the Linton Park serial murders. Seokjin’s team, including me, followed the memory map she made for us—a trail of memories that specifically belongs to anything related to the murders. But then, we hit a dead-end for the supposed next victim. Can’t identify her. We only had images of flashing movement—blood splattering in a barn, people running on a green field. There are just cops and a woman.” 

              Namjoon places down his cup, “And so, Y/N told me she needed me to help her make a time jump in the past. I pressed on the clicker and,” Namjoon shrugs, “Y/N successfully made the jump. And also successfully return with the info of the victim—a girl working on a farm. Y/N tied it to the flashing images of the field and deduced the running was not about us chasing a murderer’s accomplice. But us running after a victim before Linton could. It was hard to tell at first why the victim is running away from us. Until we learned through Y/N she was an illegal immigrant.” 

              Namjoon pulls his lips into a tight smile. “I think it’s an additional gift. But at the same time, it’s also a setback. A rightful one at that. Y/N’s inability to time jump in the past unless with a clicker a meter radius within her balances the power of her future-seeing gift. She still needs to rely on the system even if her gift for the future is, hypothetically, unbound from any constraints.” Namjoon takes a sip of his tea. “How ‘bout you? How did you learn this…extra ability of hers?”

              “She snatched my clicker from me,” Jungkook leans back in his seat. “She said she needed a ‘tangible memory’ to start on her memory map. She ended up thrusting us back into the time of my car accident.”

              Namjoon freezes. “Excuse me? Did you say ‘us’?”

              Jungkook’s forehead furrows, “Yeah. We did the jump together, that’s why I’m asking you about this thing with the clickers.” 

              “Jungkook, she never did that before.”

              Jungkook’s brows shoot up. “What?”

              Namjoon scratches his nape, face scrunched up. “When she asked me to let her jump through my clicker, she didn’t take me along with the jump. It’s only her. Like it should always be as one clicker is only for one user. It’s always been like this in all the situations she asked me for a time jump in the past.” Namjoon looks at him, “I don’t know why you got in the same loop as her.”

              The night was quiet but devoid of peace. Like an ugly pause in a running film that’s just about to unwind the questions they laid at the start. Even after intaking his blue pills, Jungkook finds it difficult to close his eyes shut.

              “Big brother!”

              Jungkook turns around. The small boy stands on his tiptoes, small arms reaching for him. Jungkook smiles, “You want to climb on my back again, Daehyun?”

              “Yes!” Daehyun giggles.

              “Alright then,” Jungkook crouches in front of him and Daehyun’s squeals grow louder as he loops his stubby arms around Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook stands up, securing the boy’s short legs around his torso. “Ready for some wind, big boy?” He asks. Daehyun nods frantically and soon, Jungkook is zooming on the green field, turning the heads of the children and volunteers in the park. But all Jungkook could hear was Daehyun’s laughter filling the nice summer afternoon. It brings a huge smile on Jungkook’s face. 

              Then—flashing blue and red lights. Cold pavement. A lone school bus standing in the middle. Its yellowness highlighted by the police’s yellow tape surrounding the area. Reporters dot every possible space on the crossroad. “Shooter on the loose.” “Poor child.” “Blood splattered on the seats.” But all Jungkook could hear is the white noise of the chattering. And the call of “Big brother!” he’ll never hear anymore. 

              Jungkook jolts awake. He sighs, closing his eyes. “It’s all in the past,” he mutters repeatedly under his breath. But no matter how many times he repeats it, it doesn’t shake off the horror he’s reeling in. He’s had this dream again and again for eight years straight. He should be already accustomed to it. 

              Jungkook sits up straight. He turns back to his computer and sees a couple of pictures open on the desktop. It was the screenshots of the CCTVs Yoongi gave them. He looks at the top of his desk. His notes empty of anything new other than Leigh Anderson’s name webbed next to an un-filled space for sponsors. Jungkook covers his face with his palms and yawns. Just then a series of text messages come in.

              Unknown: This is Y/N. I know we left on bad terms three days ago. I’m the one to blame for that for overreacting. I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve done a case for FJO. I’m still kinda hung up separating personal services from investigative ones. (2:13 P.M.)

              Unknown: Nevertheless, I hope you’re free this day. Meet me at Somerset Road. 3 P.M. I don’t want you to waste the money you gave me yesterday (2:13 P.M.)  

              Somerset Road is a thirty-minute drive from the FJO Main Headquarters. However, it didn’t feel like it when Jungkook parks his car on the side road. It seemed like hours have gone by when the sun is about to set in the alcove of trees in the distance. It’s just three in the afternoon. Jungkook steps outside and shuts the door. From his position, he could make out a girl in ripped black denim pants and black tank layered with a pink see-through mesh shirt. From the striking red of the spider lilies on the top of her spine, Jungkook could tell it was Y/N. He almost didn’t recognize her. He wouldn’t know she has an undercut had her high ponytail didn’t highlight it.

              The girl turns around and looks at him. “You’re late.”

              “I have to bribe the Maintenance Office first to give me this afternoon’s CCTVs when we’re done.” Jungkook strides toward her, “How did you get my number?”

              “Namjoon.”

              Jungkook cocks a brow.

              Y/N shrugs, “he wrote it in the letter you gave me. Should you, quote-unquote, be ‘difficult to deal with.’”

              Jungkook keeps his lips in a straight line.

              Y/N rocks on her toes, hands in her pocket. “Let’s get straight to it then. Take your clicker out and push it.”

              “What are you intending to do—”

              “A time jump.”

              “Of course, I know that. What other purpose do we use our time jumps for?” Jungkook spits. “What I want to know is what we’re supposed to be doing first before I follow whatever you want me to do because I cannot just blindly trust you with this—”

              Y/N turns her head to him, one brow cocked up, “Didn’t I tell you before I don’t fancy How-What-Why-Whatever questions to what I do or else my gift won’t work?”

              “Yes, but—”

              “Look, will you just push it or do you want me to snatch it from you again?” Y/N takes a step closer to him, leveling his eyes with hers. “I already did a read for today. I know its new hiding place.”

              Jungkook remains unmoving in his stance.

              Y/N crosses her arms. “If it would assure you, this session won’t end taxingly fruitless like the last time. I’m positive we’ll get something by the end of today.”

              “How did you know?”

              “I told you, I did a read for today. I saw you with an astounded face and me with a happy and proud smile. Obviously, we must have ended up finding something.”

              Jungkook is still unconvinced.

              Y/N sighs, “If you don’t want to do anything of what I can offer you, you know you can just terminate our connection anytime you want. Just so you know you can’t refund the 10,000 zials you gave me for the downpayment.”

              Jungkook keeps his gaze on her. A couple of seconds pass before he sighs and shakes his head as he takes out his issued clicker tucked in the breast pocket of his leather jacket.

              Y/N smirks. “See? You know you’re gonna need me in the end and you still try to put up an unnecessary fight.”

              Jungkook grunts. He turns the clicker’s indicator to “1-2 weeks” timeframe and pushes the button.

              It was just like their previous time jump—like any other Precrime time jump. It felt like nothing yet also everything at the same time. An amalgamation of sensations and perceptions flashing in front of him in the blink of an eye as he is transported back to the night of his accident. Jungkook looks down at his feet. He’s back to where he last stood at—the left side of the road next to the corner where his car will come from. Jungkook turns to his left and he almost jumps in shock. Unlike their last jump, Y/N is no longer on the opposite side of the road, but beside him, shoulders almost bumping his. Jungkook takes a staggering step away from her. 

              Even if Namjoon laid everything he knows about Y/N’s skills yesterday, Jungkook still finds it hard to accept that a clairvoyant is able to look into the past with such effortless access. Aren’t they only supposed to see the future?

              “What are you looking at?”

              Jungkook tears his gaze away from her. “Nothing.”

              “Thought so, too,” Y/N quips. “We’re here to work after all. Not ogle at each other.” 

              Jungkook tongues his cheek. He’s not left to his frustration for long as after a second, the burning of tires on the asphalt is heard on their side of the road. A silver-gray Ford appears and it zooms past them in a flash. A black Jaguar subsequently shows up on the other side, its form nearing them each millisecond that passes. It’s only time ‘til the two crashes and sends Jungkook’s car rolling three times on the road.

              But, it didn’t happen. The howls of the wind stop. The screeching of the tires halts in awkward silence. And the cars are frozen still. The Jaguar’s bumper and Ford’s right door are separated by a mere inch. It’s the second before the accident happens. Paused in a picture-like frame as if someone hit the pause icon on a video.

              Jungkook whips his head to his side. Y/N has her palm closed in a post-click of her thumb and middle fingers. Jungkook feels his throat clog up, “H-how did you do that?”

              Y/N rolls her eyes. “Told you before, it’s because of my gift. And it’s also just seconds ago I told you I don’t like questions about how my gift works.” Y/N steps away from him and onto the road. “Follow me.” 

              Jungkook silently follows behind. It’s only a matter of seconds that they reach the side of the door of the silver-gray Ford. Jungkook lets his fingers touch on the coated metal. It felt cold on his flesh. Solid. Real. Jungkook can’t help but be astonished. This is no regular time jump. Totally unlike the first one he did with the woman. For this time, Jungkook doesn’t feel he’s living the film of the scene, just like any of the standard Precrime time jumping. This time, Jungkook feels he’s in the scene. Not in a film, not like the virtual reality experienced by Forecrime agents. But in real-time.

              “Take your hands off your car.”

              Jungkook tears his hands away from his car. He looks at the girl. Y/N gives him a pointed look, “I know this time jump doesn’t feel like the standard time jumps of Precrime so you may be astounded with,” she motions around them, “all of this. But I prefer you not to get too overwhelmed. We’re here for work.”

              Jungkook nods, reluctant. Y/N walks further into the side of the road, now a foot away from the spot where the cars should crash. Jungkook quickly follows behind. When he’s by an arms-length away from her, he faces back to the scene in front of him. And then, Y/N clicks her hand.

              The trees sway again. The winds continue their violent gush on the road. And the cars collide. The film is playing again.

              But then, Y/N clicks her fingers. The scene stops, frozen yet again. The bumper of the Jaguar has dug into the Ford’s door, crushing the metal with its momentum. The side mirror is broken, glass shards shattering in mid-air.

              “Come here,” Y/N beckons. Jungkook walks close behind as Y/N stops by the point of intersection of the two cars.  From their position, Jungkook could see the past him hunched over on the wheel, seat belt digging into his torso. The window by his side is broken, a splotch of blood marring the clear glass. And on his right, Jungkook could see the driver of the black Jaguar. Non-existent.

              Y/N looks at him, “So we know the man you’re after is doing an illegal time jump similar to the pattern of Precrime’s traveling agents. But what you don’t know is: he’s a professional.”

              “W-what?” 

              “Look,” Y/N flicks her wrist and makes an anti-clockwise motion of her hand. The sound goes void again and the cars back away from each other in slow motion. Jungkook’s brows shoot up.  The scene is rewinding. Y/N is turning back the time before the Jaguar collided into the Ford. And then, Y/N moves her arm horizontally to her left and clicks her fingers. The Jaguar moves forward again, but slowly this time. Jungkook could see the silhouette of the driver with arms taut on the wheel disappearing into a cloud of smoke until it turns no more but a nonexistent person on the seat as it hits the door of the Ford. 

              Y/N clicks her fingers and the scene pauses. “As you saw, it only took the driver,” she glances at her watch, “ten seconds before completely disappearing into his time jump. From how fast he disappeared, we could say it only took him twenty seconds in total to make the entire jump. I can only deduce this as the memories we have are short of the time we could see him in his solid form. The same way goes for the CCTVs you gathered. It only captured the last ten seconds of the whole accident. The Jaguar nonexistent in the frame from 20:23:39 and anything beyond before that time mark. The CCTVs only showed the Jaguar from 20:23:40 to exactly 20:24. The last 10 seconds, devoid of any driver.” 

              The girl continues, “Now, to be able to completely vanish in just 20 seconds, you must be a professional in time jumping in the past. Which can only be done if you’ve undergone training under Precrime. However, this could also be just any other outsider that’s gotten lucky doing an illegal time jump. Considering Somerset Road has a strong electromagnetic field that can help anyone do their time jumps faster and more successfully—including the risky ones that involve a huge time frame of unbounded jumps into the past. But to know that about Somerset Road, much less know how to effectively take advantage of its field during a time jump—you should be a long-time agent of Precrime.” 

              Y/N faces Jungkook, “The man you’re after is either a professional Precrime traveling agent or an outsider who’s fed with all the necessary information only a Precrime agent could know. It’s an inside job.”

              Jungkook shakes his head, “No. It can’t be. Every time-jumping device has a permanent tracker that can never be taken out even by the best engineer. Allen McGregor designed it to be like that to ensure these devices will not be used for personal interest. Every agent is tracked of their traveling activities and logged straight into the Investigation Bureau’s files. They’re inputted in glass files similar to the crime records—void for editing, copying, and deleting. And should it be an outsider utilizing Precrime’s technology, a travel will still be tracked back to the agent whose device was used.” Jungkook looks at Y/N. “There have been no reports of anyone traveling on Somerset Road the night of my accident.”

              Y/N shrugs, “I’m just saying what I saw. Especially this.” Y/N makes an anti-clockwise motion of her hands and the scene rewinds again.  The Jaguar is frozen back into five seconds before it hits the silver-gray Ford. Y/N walks toward the car, Jungkook close behind. The girl motions to the passenger seat and Jungkook stills. There on the leather seat is a red file case. Unprecedented murder. Precrime Murder Sector. But this is not what rendered Jungkook immobile in shock. Rather, it’s the label on the file case. 

              “Jonathan Winston Assassination; August 15, 2047; 12:30:00.”

              “See?” Y/N smirks, “Told you we’ll find something today.”

              A click of the hand and soon, the dark night sky of Somerset Road bleeds into the burning colors of the sunset. There’s no longer the silver-gray Ford and the black Jaguar. It’s just Jungkook and Y/N alone in the road, back to where they were before.

              Jungkook hunches over, coughing as he beats his chest. When he finally stabilizes his breathing back to normal, he turns to the girl. “You…Ho-how can you be so sure with all of these vi-visions?”

              Y/N looks at Jungkook, an indecipherable look on her face. “This is what you paid for 10,000 zials. I’m handing you what your eyes missed on just the way they are.”

              Jungkook holds in his breath as he knocks on the glass door.

              “Come in.”

              Jungkook pushes the door open and salutes. “Chief Nathan Spencer.”

              “Captain Jeon,” the Chief of Precrime glances up at him before returning back to the stack of papers he’s signing. He motions to the chair in front of his desk, “Make yourself comfortable.”

              Jungkook pulls back the black chair and sits.

              “So, what brings you here?”

              “This week’s report, sir—the joint investigation with DOJ on the unidentified black Jaguar.” Jungkook places a brown folder on the Chief’s desk.

              The chief looks at the captain. “Still no progress in the identification?” 

              Jungkook shakes his head, face grim.

              “That can’t be helped,” Nathan sympathetically mutters. “It’s not the first time FJO has handled a difficult case.”

              “But it is the first time FJO can’t identify a suspect with its current system.”

              “You’re right,” Nathan nods. He flips open the brown folder and skims the report. “How’s the auditor doing?”

              Jungkook clenches his jaw. “Fine. Still…meddling with our processes.”

              Nathan lets out a light scoff. “As expected of someone who’s running for a promotion. Always been a know-it-all jerk, this Min Yoongi.”

              Jungkook makes a tight-lipped smile.

              Nathan chuckles. “Forgive me. I’ve always had a prejudice against DOJ’s auditors. Most, if not all of them, always give us a hard time more than what’s necessary. Anyway, what else do you have for me, Jungkook?”

              The captain sits up straight. “I would like to ask a favor, sir.”

              Nathan clasps his hand on his desk. He leans forward. “What is it?”

              “It’s for the investigation. DOJ has access to all of our files—Precrime, Forecrime, and even the Investigation Bureau. So I figured if I can also do the same since our sector seems to be their main target. If I have the same leverage on our own information as them, I can have control over this investigation and drive them away before they can even assume power over us.” Jungkook leans on the table, “We could see the problems first before they become visible to DOJ.”

              Nathan raises his brow. “So what do you mean?”

              “I would like to have unrestricted access in our archives. Everything that contains anything pertaining to FJO.” Jungkook leans forward, “Including the Memory Temple.” 

              The chief sighs, “That’s a big favor, Jungkook.”

              “I know. That’s why Chief General Andrews told me to go to you.”

              Nathan’s brows shoot up, “The Chief General?”

              “Yes, Chief General Matthew Andrews. He said you’re good friends with Chief of the Bureau, Natasha Ryde. Chief Andrews wants to ask if you could do a favor of a friend for a friend.” Jungkook slides a white envelope underneath the folder, “Of course, not without considerable credit.”

              Nathan purses his lips. A beat. He shakes his head, sighing. “Okay…I’ll try to put in a word for you. I can give you the entire archives tomorrow. But the Memory Temple could take a while. Two days or three.”

              “That’s fine with me.” Jungkook smiles. He stands up and heads to the end of the room. Before he could disappear behind the door, he salutes one more time, “Thank you for the kind accommodation, Chief.” 

              Jungkook heads to the main elevator and hits the second floor below the Superiors’ Hall. The metal doors ding open and soon, Jungkook’s looking at a wide expanse of glass wall reflecting hundreds of shelves on the glass panes.

              Jungkook heads to the entranceway and salutes at the guard, “Sally.” The guard returns the salute, smiling. Jungkook tilts his head, “Did the Bureau come by to retrieve Precrime files?”

              “Not yet, sir. The Bureau’s still busy in their matters with DOJ. They halted the synching of files for now.”

              “That’s good,” Jungkook quips and pushes the glass doors open.

              Tall metal bookshelves snake like an accordion around the floor. The spaces between them is occasionally filled up by wooden desks that mandatorily come along with a wooden bookstand and black study lamp. It looks like a hedge maze made of old books, monochrome papers, and multi-colored files.

              Jungkook heads to the leftmost aisle—Precrime’s archives. He weaves his way through the bookshelves until he stops in front of a separated room in the middle of the labyrinth. It’s made completely out of glass, just like FJO’s offices. The only difference is that this room contains five sets of desks and chairs, bookshelves, and the Archive Manager’s huge white station as the centerpiece.

              And before Jungkook could finish leveling his eyes to the scanner set by the door, he could already feel the growing stare of Emily Young.

              “Captain Jeon.”

              “Ms. Young,” Jungkook nods to the manager.

              Emily smiles, “To what do I owe your visit today?”

              “Jonathan Winston’s Assassination case file.” 

              “As usual,” The thirty-seven-year-old manager sing-songs as she stands up and disappears into the back room. It doesn’t take long for her to retrieve what the Precrime captain is looking for.

              A long expandable, red file with the label in Arial 12 print: “Jonathan Winston Assassination; August 15, 2047; 12:30:00.”

              Just like in Y/N’s time jump. Identically the same. Jungkook looks at the manager, “Do you have a log of anyone who looks into this file?”

              Emily chuckles, “I don’t think that will bring anything new to the table, captain.” She scans the numeric code of the file and turns the monitor of her computer towards him. “There’s no one who’s been looking at this file but you.”

              Jungkook peers in. Indeed, the log on Winston’s file contains nothing but his name. From August 15, 2047, the date of Winston’s assassination, to the most recent date, August 3, 2059. The day after Leigh Anderson’s suicide. The day after the Winston case was closed cold. There’s no other name in the log for 12 years other than his name.

              Jungkook looks back at Emily, “Are you sure this is the complete log on this file? No one borrowed the file earlier than July 12th?”

              “That’s the whole log, captain. There’s no record on August 1st because we’re closed to do an inventory check.” Emily leans back in her chair. “Everyone knows you’re busy on a case in Down Hill for the entirety of June. The Allison future murder is all over the news. Of course, with a Metropolis resident as a future victim. And with you busy on another case, this Winston’s file is devoid of any viewers.” Emily releases a chuckle. “Every cop has an obsession with a particular case. Everyone here knows Winston’s case is yours. I think I will remember if someone other than you looked into this file because I swear that day will be a miracle.”

              Jungkook purses his lips, face undecipherable. Right then, his phone rings loud. He turns to his back and picks it up. “Hello?”

              “Captain.” It’s Jimin.

              “What is it?”

              “You have to come to the sector now. There’s a file from Precrime. It’s…a blank.”

              “Okay, I’ll be there soon,” Jungkook ends the call. He faces Emily. “Thank you for today, Emily.” The archives manager nods with a playful salute at him. Jungkook quickly returns the salute and pushes the door open. Soon, he’s tearing past the labyrinth of shelves.

              It doesn’t take Jungkook longer than ten minutes to reach the left-wing of the 2nd floor. The cold sweat from the discovery in the archives is still clinging on his nape. 

              As soon as he steps into Murder Sector, everyone’s eyes are set on him. Including Yoongi. Jungkook prods his cheek with his tongue as he slides in the gloves over his hands. “Jimin, give me the run-over.”

              “Captain, Jeon. It’s a grayish-white file. Precrime, Property and Crime Scene Sector. Traveling agent in charge is Eric Williams. Crime record validated by traveling agents Hannah Peters and Ivan Park. Case number 3571, hit-and-run, destruction of property.  Suspect is unknown. Victim’s name is…Jeon Jungkook.”

              Jungkook whips his head towards the secretary, eyes wide.

              “It’s your case, sir.” Jimin confirms, “Eric accidentally time jumped into the night of your hit-and-run while he’s traveling for a T-Bone accident in Middle Town. Property and Crime Scene figured this blank is a crucial update on your case.” He walks to the end of the glass board and slides the disk into the middle slot.

              Jungkook turns to his front. The glass board lights up and a video starts playing. It’s Somerset Road and it’s almost pitch black in the grainy film. Eric stands frozen on the pavement for a second. But the seeming serenity of the scene soon dissipates as he looks down at his gear and frantically fumbles for his time jumper. Suddenly, hot blinding light fills his peripherals. Eric’s head shoots up. A car is speeding toward him. The headlights grow larger and finally, the car becomes visible. It’s the silver-gray Ford. Eric turns around and right then, a black Jaguar zooms past him, merely missing him by a hairsbreadth. But the Jaguar doesn’t stop and further increases its speed. It bulldozers right into the side of the Ford, sending it flying across the barren road. Eric picks up his feet and dashes to the cars. But his efforts are futile. The black Jaguar has already disappeared before he could even take his 12th step. And then, the record stops.

              Before Jimin could even state the protocol run-through, Jungkook frantically swipes through the blank record. He slides across the frames in reverse, back and backward until he reaches the first second of the blank.

              “Sir, I’m afraid we have to do the protocol first—"

              Jungkook’s hand stills on the board. The frame freezes. It’s a close-up of the black Jaguar as it barely grazes Eric’s body. Jungkook zooms in. There inside the passenger seat of the car is a long, red expandable file. “Jonathan Winston Assassination; August 15, 2047; 12:30:00.”

              Jungkook feels his blood run cold. It’s the same file he just had his hands on less than 15 minutes ago. It’s the same file he saw in his and Y/N’s jump. Y/N’s vision is true.  

              Jungkook feels his pocket vibrate and he quickly whips out his phone. However, he wasn’t able to dwell on it longer as a hard force pushes his shoulder backward, forcing Jungkook to tear his eyes off the screen.

              Yoongi glares at him, “Why are you indifferent about this? You know something about this, didn’t you? Captain Jeon!” 

              But even with his name called out loud, Jungkook couldn’t hear anything. All that registers in his mind is one single message.

              Y/N L/N:  Have you ever heard of a Sooah Kim before? (11:14 A.M.)

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Note: This story is based on Steven Spielberg’s film adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s short story, Minority Report (2002). That being said, this series may contain spoilers for the movie so if you want to watch the movie, please do so first before reading!

A/N | Hi hons! Thank you for reading the 2nd chapter! I hope I got you guys more curious about the story hehe. Anyway, I have some announcement: I have finals for a major coming up this week so I’ll spend the next whole week studying. So, I’ll try if I can update the next chap the week after next week, on Sunday, too. But nothing is certain yet as I still have some uni stuff to do. Don’t worry, I only have 3 projects left to do to finally finish this sem. So as soon as I’m done with them, expect more frequent updates from me! 

If you guys wanna get notified as soon as I post the next chapter, I’m gonna add you all in my taglist! Just hit me up down the comments of this series’ masterlist so I can better track you all! The search function of Tumblr is messing with me and my notifs in my inbox usually come late so it’s highly probable your asks and DMs may get lost ☹

Once again, thank you for reading and giving a chance to My Time! :”)

Notes: As you know, this is a mystery fic. So, it will be most appreciated if any theories pertaining to the story be kept down the comments so I can entertain them all without spoiling our future readers! Once again, thank you so much for reading this!

All Rights Reserved 2020 © Vanaera. Reposts, modifications, and translations of content are not allowed without direct permission.

[blairwaldcrf]

if you know me, no you don’t - dan/nate 2k

Summary: dan/nate alternate to episode 4x02 from Nate's perspective for @bisexualdanhumphrey

Comment and read here on Ao3

Notes: we're pretending here that dan hasn't told lily/rufus yet thanks

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

            Nate Archibald, for better or worse, knew Chuck Bass better than few people on the Upper East Side ever would or could. (Or, especially after the spring, wanted to). This is why he isn’t surprised when the not so little black book contains the contact info of more than females. What does surprise Nate is that he’s almost tempted to use them. He doesn’t. Gossip Girl is always watching, after all. But it tempts him, and the fact he’s tempted at all makes him have more than two girls over one night ala a foursome that tires him out for more than a day.

But being tired doesn’t fix things any more than trying to dry his hair without an expensive blow dryer. So, one night after he finishes his routine call with Dan  in a bar outside of the city and on the outskirts of Chuck’s usual haunts where he’s sure he can get away with it, he hooks up with a handsome brunette.

Nate pretends he isn’t nervous as they kiss, and indeed kissing does help the usual process begin anyway, but Victor-- at least filed under said name in the book-- gives him a smile as he pulls away. “We don’t have to do anything, you know.”

Maybe it’s the permission to just be that makes him finally give in, but within less than a full minute of saying a finally confident “I want to.” they’re in bed and the broken ice lends itself into something much, much hotter. 

Nate had expected things to be both more simple and fast than they were. While he was good enough at foreplay with women, he’d been told it was required by Victor in instances like this. Not that he’s complaining, but it does happen to relate to the fact that he feels more comfortable staying in the bed for a moment in the afterglow of the climax

“I’m not gay, you know.” Nate says slowly, staring at the ceiling. “Not that there’s anything wrong with-- I just mean I really enjoy sex with women and--,”

“Do you think your friend is gay?” Victor asks, an odd expression on his face.

“Chuck?” Nate laughs. “God, no. He’s just-- I mean he’s just Chuck. Pleasure-seeking doesn’t exactly have limits with him.”

Looking for an answer he can’t seem to find, Victor shrugs. “Maybe you’re just seeking pleasure too.”

Confusion is key to Serena Vanderwoodsen breakups, so who was he to say Victor is wrong? Hadn’t he already upped his body count by well more than a dozen in said name of pleasure seeking? According to Serena’s brother Eric, gaydar was a thing and both he and Victor would know well more than Nate about this.

 Lamely, he tries to agree. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. Just trying things out.”

Victor gives him a discerning look that makes Nate jump out of bed in a way he pretended was nonchalant. Nate gives the same easy laugh and pretty smile he gave to all the people who try to claim he’s deeper than a pretty face and left the building feeling more brooding than he had before entering. A little bitterly, he had notes he hadn’t even made it through the alphabet in Chuck’s book and was already a different person like Chuck had unknowingly promised. 

-----------

Juliet Sharp comes as a happy surprise to Nate, an interruption to the increasing craziness he had gotten himself into by worrying too much about his own sexuality. Hard to get like Blair, a coy smile like Serena, and an interesting twist of not being a part of the Gossip Girl elite like usual. When in doubt, let a bossy woman figure it out.

The problem, it turns out, is that she wants to take Dan out from the running for Serena’s heart and while Nate had to admit it would serve Dan a little right after the kiss he doesn’t want to do it. Not really. Still, he lets himself listen to her as easy as if he was listening to Blair back at St. Jude’s. Things are simpler that way, aren’t they? If loving someone as free and accepting as Serena had gotten him cheated on with someone like Dan who knew his own purpose in life so easily, fuck it. Maybe meddling would help.

Seeing Dan is much different than talking on the phone, though. Especially with the singing the Brooklyn guy must take after his mother for. While Dan is no lyricist when it comes to lullabies it seems, he is quite possibly the most adorable thing Nate had seen in awhile and he laughs in a free and familiar way that surprised him after a summer of escaping all family and friends.

Offered Milo, Nate panics. Is he supposed to know what to do with an actual baby? Is he holding him correctly? Sure, he had been around infant cousins before, but those were ones taken care of by nannies just like he was. How was Dan doing this, Georgina? Did that crazy woman even have a maternal bone in her body?

When Juliet takes Milo and Nate gets the chance to be alone with Dan for the first time since they shared a living space, it’s now there. That horribly familiar tug that made Nate nervous every time he felt it. Once upon a time he had felt it when trying desperately not to love Serena the almost entirety of being with Blair, and also now, faced with the one person who had been the ruin of him and Serena in the first place.

After living with Dan he knows things about the “lonely boy” one might miss. That he always wore plaid when he was especially stressed, as if it was a comfort blanket after years in Brooklyn. That if you unplugged his laptop from his charger for any reason he would immediately be angry that it might die and unsave his already thrice saved writing. That he especially hated the Italian place on the corner of his actual favorite spot because they had been racist to Vanessa. That he would normally have dark circles under his eyes after writing too long through the night on black coffee. 

Most of all, he notices that all those things are currently at odds, unplugged charger and all, and that Dan was drowning in the midst of Nate thinking that his newly activated sex life was demanding.

“Are you okay?” he asks, knowing the answer. “I mean--,”

“Oh, this?” Dan laughs sarcastically now that Juliet is out of sight. “Absolutely not. But you know, what other choice do I have?”

“Tell your dad and Lily like I said.” Nate repeats, trying to give the good advice no one ever took him seriously for. Then, with a charming smile: “Afford a babysitter, or even a maid,  every now and then.”

“Thanks,” is the flat response, but Dan’s lips had fought a smile for a second.

Nate smiles further, pulling the same response out of Dan slowly but surely. “Come on, man. You should know after years of Gossip Girl secrets always add badly. Especially the ones involving Georgina of all people.”

“Yeah, I know.” Dan nods, sounding so tired. “But right now I can live in my bubble where I just take care of Milo and have Georgina barking orders at me and no one else can tell me what a mess I’ve made.”

“Did that sound already as bad to you as it did to me out loud?” Nate asks.

Dan did laugh this time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean Milo isn’t the mess, don’t get me wrong, it’s just I didn’t exactly envision this as my life. I was at least supposed to finish my second year of college.”

“I know.” Nate said, and he did. Because while Dan had the privilege of connections to so much wealth and ease of life, he’d never take them anymore than Nate would want to. They both had the same pride and respect for work each other did, Nate admits, it was just that Dan followed through while Nate tended to flounder. 

“Have you spoken to Serena?”

Looking surprised at the mention of the name, Dan shakes his head. “We haven’t talked all summer, she’s doing her Paris thing and I didn’t want her to hear Milo in the background. Why? Did she talk to you?”

“No,” Nate says. He’d hoped the one thing that had always kept them at odds would still be available to push him further yet again. “No, she didn’t. I just wondered. Gossip Girl said she was coming back to go to Columbia.”

“Oh wow.” Dan considers, looking less hurt than the guy who had kissed said girl should have. “That’s-- I don’t know, that’s weird. Shouldn’t she have said something to either of us?”

Nate shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s Serena.”

With an agreeing nod, Dan answers Juliet’s call for yet another diaper change-- how often did babies really need to be changed?-- and the all too pretty girl came in to see him spy on Dan’s phone and spot the text from Serena. 

For Serena and I, he tells himself as he lets Juliet begin a Blair-worthy scheme, but reality has never let him lie to himself for long.

The moment he sees Vanessa cuddle up to Dan like they’re married and Milo is their perfect newborn baby, he can’t help but stop pretending. As observant as Juliet is, she doesn’t know Nate, not really. All she can see is an archetype that she wants to believe in after knowing him for less than even a week. It’s all too easy to let her and pretend that his brooding glare at them is nothing more than anger at Dan for Serena, at least until Juliet’s lie involves Vanessa being shoved at Dan. Telling Juliet to stop, that he isn’t willing that will break hearts isn’t a lie.

… But maybe it was easier to pretend he was having a noble change of heart than to admit how completely jealous he didn't want to be. 

So when Juliet says that Vanessa and Dan had been a great couple, Nate forces himself to admit that of all the former couples on the Upper East Side-- or ones by extension-- Dan and Vanessa had always made the most sense. Grounded Brooklyn loner thing aside, she still had more in common with him than Nate could ever hope to, so if Juliet thought Dan could be happier with her then who was he to stop them?

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

When Dan texts him I know what you told Vanessa, he leaves Juliet waiting without a thought. On the limo ride over, all he can think is how to explain things, what to say, anything to try and figure out how he absolutely could tell Dan that he was sorry without explaining the true reason he did things. Serena, he reminded himself. Just use Serena.

“Let me explain,” he opens with to Dan the second he enters the apartment and can see Dan’s characteristically judging glare, trying, “You two spent the whole day alone together and seemed like you were connecting--,”

“We weren’t alone, we were with you and Juliet.” Dan argues in a whisper.

“Why are we whispering?”

“Milo is sleeping for once. Why did you lie about me?”

Nate tries not to let his stomach drop as he directly asks. “Was it a lie?”

Surely he didn’t have to go through this again, right? Nate has tried desperately to sleep through Manhattan and still have good karma-- his expenses on every one night stand’s breakfast proved so in his opinion-- but here he is, dreading the one word that Dan says next.

“Is this about Serena?” Dan asks, looking confused. “It is, isn’t it.”

“I wouldn’t have even said anything if you hadn’t lied about getting that text from her!” Nate sidesteps.

Dan blinks at him, brow furrowed. “What text?”

“I-- When was the last time you checked your phone?”

God, everyone is right. I am an idiot. Nate thinks harshly at himself. Of course Dan hadn’t done literally anything normal when he was so wrapped up in Milo, takeout, and the disturbing Georgina.

With a glare, Dan snaps, “Obviously not as recently as you have.”

“I’m sorry, Dan. I saw the text and I--,”

Rolling his eyes and putting his phone back in his pocket, Dan sighs. “You’re sorry. I know.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know how I feel about Serena, I just--,” Nate fumbles, still feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

“You don’t have to say it.”

The forgiveness is so ready and kind that Nate has to admit he’s a little taken aback. He isn’t sure when he and Dan had reached that point, the kind where the tension of competition could ease back into friendship. Once Nate had thought he had that with Chuck before he’d really taken a look at who his friend had become. Even then, though, the tension had never been quite the same. “I think I do. You’ve been there for me through all of last year, and--,”

“And I kissed Serena when you two were dating. I honestly probably deserved something.” Dan offers. “Look, if anyone understands the craziness involved with having feelings for her it’s me.”

“That’s not what it was about.” Nate huffs before catching himself, unable to take back the words now they’re in the air. He’d been so frustrated with the situation, with his life, with who he was both becoming yet wanted to be that he had slipped. “I mean--,”

“What was it then, Georgina?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then what, Nate?”

Dan’s brow is furrowed in the way he doesn’t realize is attractive, and in the midst of the quiet argument they had become closer in the necessity of hearing each other, but still not close enough to bridge the gap Nate is terrified of. Praying that Milo wakes up doesn’t work, and he’s worried that if he walks out now it will seem like even more of a big thing than he wants to pretend it isn’t. 

A charming smile won’t work this time. Even as he tries the casual shrug, he can see Dan begin to give a condescending glare to try and pull the truth out. Nate sighs and looks at the ceiling. “Can we just pretend I said nothing and I’ll owe you a favor?”

“Do I look like Blair Waldorf?” Dan scoffs. “Nate, whatever it is just tell me. Nothing’s going to be crazier than finding out Georgina and I made a child together.”

“Wanna bet?” Nate half-laughs.

The confusion dramatically turns to concern at that, and before the brunette could think he had another horrible secret hanging over him, Nate throws it all to hell and kisses him. It isn’t like he expects Dan to kiss back, it’s just the easiest way to explain something that felt impossible to-- well, explain.

Dan does pull back expectedly looking shocked, but he hasn’t completely pulled away from Nate’s orbit who’s a little intoxicated by that detail. “Nate... I’m pretty sure I’m not in Chuck’s book either.”

“Not quite.” Nate manages to get out, having to clear his throat a bit to even do so, nerves about to murder him. “Also, before you try and say it again, this isn’t about Serena.”

“I think I know you better than that.” Dan says softly, nodding. “And I know you well enough to know you’re too good at being a chameleon to your surroundings. I just didn’t know--,”

“This?” Nate offers. “Yeah, me either.”

Nodding, Dan pauses the conversation, eyes lowering with consideration. For a moment Nate thinks he might initiate another kiss but he doesn’t, instead asking quizzically, “Why me?”

“Because you’re the kind of man who would drop everything he wanted in life just to take care of a child you never expected.” Nate replies maybe too easily, gesturing around the messy apartment. “Because even the Upper East Side couldn’t change that when it really came down to it, you were a good person. You care about people and you prove it.”

“Nothing about my charming good looks?” Dan replies with a rather large smile and a casual shrug that Nate hadn’t quite realized he’d learned from him over the years.

Now Nate can’t help but laugh in return, only half hating the fact that he still hasn’t heard anything in response as long as they have this. “Come on, seriously--,”

“I guess we can try serious.” Dan says smoothly, and then they’re kissing again.

 For once Nate isn’t afraid he’ll be considered just another pretty face to boss around.

[mxstyassasxin]

WIP Fic Recs Abound!

Thought I’d put together a list of WIPs that I’m currently following and would recommend to you all <3 

Drarry:

Instinct is a Marvellous Thing by @drarrymehome - A few months after defeating Voldemort, a grief-stricken Harry goes in search of the family he has always wanted. The search takes him to a place where everything is the same but a little bit different. Harry quite likes it there, although maybe everything isn't as it seems.But what happened to the people Harry left behind? The disappearance of Harry Potter rocked the wizarding world like nothing else, and when Draco Malfoy is accused of his kidnapping, why won’t he tell everyone the truth about what happened? Would they even believe him if he did?More importantly, where is Harry Potter and is he coming back? 

I’m loving this! It’s full of mystery and intrigue with a wonderfully pining Draco. A really well-paced slowburn where Harry has been a bit of an idiot and Draco’s trying to fix it. Beware the angst when barriers spring up in his efforts and when Harry starts to discover the truth.

Cherie, parchments and quills by Oleonetta - A birthday gift voucher for Le'Amortentia - the dating service, sends Harry into a whirlwind of words after choosing the profile of one man that sound very interesting and mysterious.Unable to disclose anything that reveals his name or identity, Harry must rely on words via a magical connected parchment to get to know the other man. Only time will tell if they wish to met.Meanwhile, Harry had started his 10th year as a Hogwarts professor, and this year ... one Mr Draco Malfoy has taken over the position of potions professor.

Professor Drarry! Letter writing! Both tropes that I really enjoy and this does not disappoint. The glee I feel knowing things as the reader when Harry and Draco don’t is brilliant and the fic is so full of amazing details that make it really heartwarming and emotional. 

Dramione:

The Auction by @lovesbitca8 – In the wake of the Dark Lord's triumph over Harry Potter, the defeated must learn their new place. Hermione Granger has been captured to be sold to the highest bidder as the top prize at an auction of Order members and sympathizers. But despite the horrors of Voldemort's new world, help seems to arise from the most unlikely of places.

Voldemort wins au, part of the Rights and Wrongs series. Start with The Right Thing To Do (not Voldy wins) because The Auction is the playout of something brought up in that by Draco and I love how fleshed out the little detail has become. Also, can I just give a cheer for all the bamf women in this fic! 

Professors by GinFics (edit: now complete) – Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Hogwarts professors have been totally re-staffed by none other than the Golden Trio and their classmates. Ever since the Battle, Hermione has been dating Ron, though things haven't been good between them in a long time. With Draco and Hermione heading up the school's Dueling Club, it's guaranteed to be an interesting year, indeed.

What it says on the tin so far. Lovely fic about Draco and Hermione getting together at Hogwarts when they return to teach there. I love romantic Draco and the two of them wanting to do the best by each other and keep the other safe from the reactions of friends and family. Also, yey for supportive Harry and McGonagall

Bless the Broken Road by SnowblindLissaDream @snowblind12 @lissadream – Almost fifteen years post the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy find themselves in a life they could never have imagined. Both have lost their spouses in untimely deaths. Both have young children to contend with. What will happen when their worlds reconnect via a spouse loss grief group put on by St. Mungo's?

Draco is such a sweetie in this fic and the way he interacts with Rose and Hugo is wonderful. He’s there for Hermione when Ginny and Harry can’t understand how she’s feeling and I’m pretty sure there’s some wonderful soulmate magic afoot. I love all the adorable feels!

Blue Widow by failedfracture – Hermione and Draco are both grieving for the ones they loved. Epilogue compliant.

Another one where Hermione’s a widow and has coped with it by leaving Britain, but now she’s back. This is as sexy as Bless the Broken Road is sweet. Harry and Ginny’s friendship with Draco is fabulous and they are just as protective over him as they are over Hermione.

Other/General:

It’s Tea Time series by ellizablue – Scorbus is the main pairing in this Potter family drama series following the events of Cursed Child but Lily’s rand James’ relationships with their respective OCs also play a huge part. I adore everyone’s characterisation in this series and this Lily is how I see all Lily Lunas now. Also massive love for Harry, Ginny and Draco as wonderfully portrayed parents and then grandparents. The same mystery, adventure feel that runs through the original HP works has been amazingly emulated here with bonus feels.

House of the Brave series by islandgirl394, starting chronologically with Written in the Stars – This fic begins a series that follows the next gen kids through all their times at Hogwarts with their individual challenges. Written in the Stars follows Victoire as she balances her academic responsibilities and her feelings for Teddy. She comes to terms with the fact that life doesn’t always work out the way you might expect it to, and Neville is on hand as an amazing Head of House with the good lectures and assistance to help her find her purpose. 

New Blood by artemisgirl – Sorted into Slytherin with the whisper of prophecy around her, Hermione refuses to bow down to the blood prejudices that poison the wizarding world. Carving her own path forward, Hermione chooses to make her own destiny, not as a Muggleborn, a halfblood, or as a pureblood... but as a New Blood, and everything the mysterious term means.

What life at Hogwarts might have been like had Hermione been sorted into Slytherin. I really enjoy their take on magic and pureblood traditions in this, Hermione’s ambition to prove herself, and Luna being a seer. The original plot of Harry vs Voldermort is ongoing in the background but obviously certain things are improved, one of which being Neville’s presence as a more fleshed out character. 

Lilypad: Year One by @marauders4evr – On 31 July 1991, Harry Potter adopted a cat and Dudley Dursley saved it. Neither child expected that the cat would adopt and save them, in turn. Yet, that is exactly what Regulus Black does, transforming his appearance, his life, and their world. The family grows closer, stronger, and greater, by the day. For anyone who needs a home is welcome at The Lilypad.

This is the ultimate Anti-Dumbledore rewrite and I love it! Powerful Lord Black is so amazing and his sass is one of the best things ever, as is the bamf oc and the way she jumps on board, no questions asked, to protect the two 11 year old boys; one who won’t eat and one who eats too much.

How To Tame Your Dragon by GloryofLove – A broken off relationship and a mistletoe led to some pretty extraordinary things. A drunken night. A dilemma worthy of the brightest witch. Mainly, for others its easy to mistake a child's father when they're both redheaded Weasleys. Two, she made a promise never to talk about how it happened in the first place. When the shaky foundation cracks what's left of the build for family?

I adore this Charmione story! They’re so adorable with each other yet still so fierce and independent and I’m absolutely in love with Hermione’s cottage (as well as Charlie). The whole thing is a wonderful exploration of emotions and struggles.

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Eleven: The One With the Man on the Roof

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3336

All of her life as a mother, Lily has placed Hunter above herself no matter what. She had a long shift at the hospital but Hunter had the flu? She'd get someone to cover. She had plans to go for dinner with Gen, but Hunter had a project due the next day? She and Gen would eat in and help him. Nothing ever, ever, came between Lily's son and her. He was the center of her universe, and she would drop everything in an instant and come to his rescue. That's what moms did right? Make sure their son is safe and ensure the best in the world for him? That's what Lily did at least. She would go to the ends of the Earth and back for Hunter if she had to. No questions asked.

So whenever he called, especially when he was at Scott's, Lily's anxiety shot through the roof. Not to mention, of all things to say, he asked her to come and pick him up. Now, of course, she would not hesitate to go and get him. It was a no-brainer. The only issue was the fact Lily was half an hour away if there was no traffic, meaning whatever was going on at Scott's would have to continue for a solid thirty minutes minimum.

"What's going on baby why do you need me to come to get you?" Lily asked, green eyes darting over her shoulder to look at the group that was still seemingly having a great time. But she caught Bucky's eye, and they stood there for what felt like an eternity. His diamond blue eyes seemed worried, his eyebrows knitted in concern at the scared look on Lily's face as she spoke to her son on the phone.

"The babysitters asleep on the couch and a man keeps banging on the door asking for Dad," Hunter answered, his voice shaky as he whispered, "I have Leila in bed with me but Mom I'm so scared please come get us."

Her stomach did a flip. It took everything inside of her not to drop the phone and sprint to the car, not wasting any time telling anybody what was happening. Adrenaline pumped through Lily's veins as she covered her mouth. Tears welled up in the tear ducts of the blonde's eyes and she made quick work blinking them away. Her throat went dry and all of the salivae in her mouth seemed to disappear. Her son was in danger. And Scott wasn't home. Of course, he wasn't...Lily wasn't sure what else she expected from him.

"Call 911 right now. I'm on my way. Stay where you are with Leila. Do not get off the phone with police," Lily rambled, stalking back over to the group and grabbing the purse she had brought along with her, "I love you Hunt I'll see you soon."

And with that, the line went dead as her son followed his mother’s instructions. The abrupt actions of Lily had caught the Avenger’s attention as they watched her scurry around to find all of her belongings, muttering curse words and not so meek names towards her ex-husband seemingly. Lily was a kindhearted person, she wouldn't even hurt a fly. Yet the moment, nay, the second, it had been brought to her attention that her son was in danger on her ex's watch because he had decided to go to a party? That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. This would become messy if she didn't lose her temper and kill Scott herself.

"Woah Woah Lil what're you doing?" Rose questioned as she placed a gentle hand on her sister's arm. Immediately, Lily shrugged it off as her head popped up to look at her younger sister with tears rolling down her cheeks. A hush fell over the crowd like a heavily weighted blanket as the lights around the roof lit up the sadness and desperation on Lily's face.

"There's a man at Scott's pounding on the door. That motherfucker went out and left the kids home with a deadbeat babysitter asleep on a couch..." Lily trailed off as the words escaped her lips. Saying it out loud was completely different than hearing her son say it on the phone. It was really happening. Hunter was in danger and his own father wasn't even home.

A part of Lily blamed herself for the events that were unfolding. If she had just listened to Hunter when he asked for her to take full custody over him. To stop sending him to his dad’s where Scott was hardly home. If she had just listened to her heart instead of her head, Hunter would be safe. He wouldn't be in his current predicament. He'd be safe at home, probably asleep in bed with Lily or Joey in his room. She'd be able to keep tabs on him. Make sure he was secure. Healthy. Safe. Out of harm’s way. Whatever you wanted to say. But no, she listened to the doctor inside of her head about the development of children and how a father/son relationship was important. But mostly, she blamed her deadbeat ex that put his children in that situation, to begin with. Not even just Hunter, but Leila. A three-year-old girl who had no business being left alone with a babysitter and her brother. She was a baby, and Scott put his own entertainment ahead of his children.

"That son of a bitch!" Gen exclaimed while jumping to her feet and handing Rose, the only 100% sober one of the trio, the keys to the car, "Thank you for having us but I have a man to murder." The brunette snapped while making a b-line towards the door down from the roof, Rose and Lily following in her tracks.

Rose's hands rested on her older sister's shoulders, rubbing soothing circles. It was something that the two have done for years. Whenever Lily got worked up and her anxiety reached a peak, Rose's soft hands would grip onto her shoulders and run patterns and shapes along the skin. It reminded Lily that she would be okay, that whatever situation that had caused her anxiety to skyrocket, would be over soon and everything would be okay. A reminder that no matter the circumstances, Rose would always be in Lily's corner, rooting for her and cheering her on. And hopefully, this small action would at least help the rapid heartbeat that pounded away in Lily's chest find a steady rhythm. Of course, then the all mighty steve rogers piped up.

"Why don't we give you a ride on the Quinjet? It'll get you there faster." he offered, causing a small tear to roll down Lily's rouged cheeks. Rose, Gen, and her came to a halt and turned back to the group that looked at the mother with worry in her eyes. Before Lily could respond, the Captain spoke once again, "Or at least let one of us come with you...just in case." he finished, nudging his elbow into Bucky's side.

Even when an event like this is going down, steve rogers stays being a little shit.

"Yeah, that may actually be good. We don't know if we'll get there before the police, or if Scott is home," Rose answered, glancing down at her sister, "You know how he is when he drinks, Lil. You can't take him...and much to her dismay, neither can Gen."

Lily's puffy eyes looked up at her best friend who begrudgingly agreed with Rose's statement, prompting the Winter Soldier to jog forward and follow the girls out to the car. Lily took a seat in the back row of the car, holding her arms tightly around her chest as she glanced at her phone, checking the time. Knowing that at any moment, she could get a call telling her the worst. Or worse, getting a call from Scott. Just the idea of his face made anger boil deep within Lily, which resulted in her bundling her hands into fists so tight that the knuckles turned a sickly shade of green. How could he be so irresponsible? They had been divorced for four years. Lily stood up for him. vouched for him to her parents. Convinced her son it's good to visit. To see his dad and spend time with him. But now? God...Lily wished he would just fall off the face of the earth and she would never have to see him again.

-----

Arriving in Brooklyn a solid half an hour later, Lily spotted flashing police lights dancing across brick walls of the apartment complex. The moment that Rose had stopped the car, Lily ran out faster than the flash. She spotted Hunter sitting in the back of an ambulance with Leila and the blonde basically tackled the two children in a tight hug. She held them close, whispering prayers to the good Lord above. Tears streaked her face, causing valleys to open up along her makeup-covered cheek. She didn't want to let go, she wanted to hold her biological child, and one that wasn't even remotely related to her, and keep them out of harm’s way.

"Ma'am is this your apartment building?" a deep voice of a police officer boomed, causing Lily to release the two kids to turn around and see the tall man behind her. His shoulders were broad and his neck seemed to be the same size as Lily's head. Just looking at the stance he held made Lily tense up, her mouth running as dry as the Sahara desert. But it was Hunter’s small hand gripping onto her's, that sent a rush of newfound confidence through her body.

"No, this is my ex-husband’s apartment. I'm this boy’s mother," Lily stated, fumbling through her purse and gripping her wallet. She tugged out her driver’s license for ID purposes, leaning down to kiss the top of Hunter’s head, before returning her worried eyes back to the officer in front of her, "Did you get the person?"

By the tense look on the officer’s face, Lily guessed the answer would be a no. Tears welled up in her green eyes, and Lily dropped down onto the ambulance between the two kids. The mother bear instincts that welled up inside of Lily's stomach were yelling at her to go and find that son of a bitch who scared her little boy. Smack him all the way to next week and make him feel the pain he had caused her and her son. But the rational part of Lily reminded her she would only create more problems if she did that. She would be the one losing custody of her son because they would probably deem her dangerous and arrest her for...you know, assault. For now, she would sit with the two shaken children, and wait for this to blow over and for the police to find the sorry son of a bitch who dared scare Lily Osborne's son. And then take the father of her child to court and receive full custody of Hunter. Because this...this was unacceptable.

But then a small voice perked up. A meek, scared voice of a little girl. shaky. And it came from Lily's left side. Leila. The little girl had spoken, "The roof." This prompted both Lily and the officer's head to shoot to the side, and both spotted a shadowy figure glancing over the edge. Lily gasped and held both children closer to her chest.

The officer called the others to go to the roof. All pulling their guns from their holsters in preparation, just in case the man was as violent and aggressive as the two children had described. As Lily watched, her hands covering her son and Leila's eyes as police stormed in through the front doors. But she spotted someone, what she had believed to be a police officer, climbing up the fire escape. But then the streetlights reflected a silver arm, sending a glare into Lily's eyes. Bucky. He ran up the fire escape with such anger that Lily could sense the aura all the way from the ambulance at the bottom of the apartment building. Whoever decided to attempt a break-in or try some sort of intimidation at Scott's apartment, most likely, had no intention of ending up face to face with the winter soldier.

"Is that Mr. Barnes on the roof?" Hunter asked, surprising Lily. Glancing down, she saw that she had let her hands drop in shock, resulting in both kids becoming witnesses to the scene. Scoffing, Lily covered their eyes once more, ensuring that whatever violence or trauma that would take place would be hidden by her pale and cold hands.

Lily, however, would become witness to the entire scene unfolding. Watching from afar, she spotted Bucky's metal arm gripping the figure’s neck and holding him above his head. A gasp escaped from Lily's plush lips as she squeezed her own eyes shut. She had heard the stories of the Winter Soldier. The assassinations that HYDRA had forced the man to commit. They had made his brain into putty, moulding it to their will so that they could inflict pain and suffering on whoever they deemed deserved it. But Lily also knew that he had been saved. That the chemicals in his mind had been removed by a brilliant scientist whose name became blank in Lily's mind. But seeing him choking the person on the roof, Lily feared he was not better. That he still had those awful things in his head. That he was dangerous. Especially when her child and her son's half-sister clung to her. As well as her best friend and sister watching the scene from the car.

But when Lily forced her eyes open again, she saw Bucky stand to the side of the roof while the police officers handcuffed whoever it was that had committed this crime. A little breath of relief danced past Lily's lips as she watched Bucky retreat down the fire escape, landing on the solid grown with ease. His thick legs carried that gorgeous frame of his towards Lily, and her shoulders tensed out of habit. But the way his facial expressions changed made her realize...he thought she was scared of him now. That whatever he had done on the roof created a new picture of him in her eyes. Sure it did at first, but he corrected it when he stood to the side afterwards.

"They've got him..." his gruff voice stated, steel blue eyes avoiding any contact with the deep greens of Lily's. He became timid, as though any small teasing comment would destroy any shred of confidence in his body. Lily had no idea the effect she had on him. How what she thought of Bucky was a make or break for him. She herself was so reserved. Distant from people. That they were almost two halves of the same whole. But her view of him...he wanted her to see nothing but goodness in him. And a little bit inside of him continued to scream that she only saw the monster that he was.

"Thank you Bucky," Lily smiled, something small and delicate that had the man become weak in the knees. But then she continued, and a small bit of his heart grew even larger and more fond of the blonde mother, "Upstate is a while away...would you like to um...stay in my spare room? Just for the night so Rose doesn't have to do that drive again."

Whether it was the beer that was singing a sweet song in Lily's mind, or the killer adrenaline rush that she was experiencing, her confidence was through the roof. Her fears seemed to disappear in an instant, creating a new side of Lily. Her son was safe and the asshole that scared him was in cuffs. Alcohol plagued a small place in her mind, and Bucky had just shown a new side to him as well. A protective side. One that he seemed to have gained for the Osborne family at the beginning of this story. Whether it was Lily's infectious smile or the way Hunter looked at him like he was the entire world. He had vowed to be there for them. No matter what it was.

"Oh...I mean if Rose doesn't want to make the drive..." the man stated, his voice cracking halfway through as he glanced over at the other two girls that rushed forward to join in on the conversation, "But isn't she staying with you?"

"Nope. Tonight I'm staying with Gen. Girls night or something. And I don't wanna drive. Hate it. Terrible. You have to stay with Lily it's final." Rose rushed, pushing forward and yanking Hunter into her arms, holding the shaking boy as she kissed the top of his head.

Before Bucky could reply, a car came to a screeching halt at the base of the apartment building’s driveway. A yelling man exploded from the car, along with a crying woman. Scott and Mary. Whatever adrenaline that Lily had leftover, shot through her as she jumped to her feet, standing in front of Hunter and Leila between Scott and them. The taller man was huffing and puffing as his hazel eyes scanned everyone around them.

"Lily, move," he ordered, face beet red as he stared down at the woman he cheated on. The anger inside of her eyes startled him at first. The mother’s instincts she wished to take out on the criminal deflecting on to her son's father. A little body pushed past both as Leila ran into her mother’s arms, and neither Lily nor Scott broke eye contact with each other. All of the pain he had caused her seemed to grow to a head, and everything inside of her kept Lily from reaching up and punching him square in the nose.

"You are a father. Scott. The judge granted you partial custody because I asked her to. Because I believed you would finally step up and care and love Hunter. But instead, you leave a deadbeat babysitter home with two children." Lily began, her voice steady and even as her bottom lip quivered, "A son needs his father. And you have been nothing short of an acquaintance to him. So congratulations. You just fucked yourself over."

Before Scott could even retort the smack-down that Lily just dished out to him, Mary piped up. Her voice shaking and broken, "Scott you told me your mother was watching them. Lily I met him at our friends after work, I hadn't come home." she sobbed, gripping her young daughter tight as she walked forward, an apologetic and terrified look on her face.

Lily nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around Mary, holding her close before letting her go talk to the police with Leila. This left Scott staring down at Lily, who had Gen, Rose, Hunter, and the Winter Soldier standing behind her. it took Scott a moment to process the fact a superhero was now standing with his ex-wife and son. And a pang of jealousy shot through him, or maybe rage. Rage that she had moved on. Gotten over the pain he had caused. Or so he thought.

Instead, the longer she stared at him with a death glare, the more memories rushed back into Lily's minds. The way he would stand over her as though he could hurt her. Then claiming it was fine because he never hit her. or the way he would spit names at her after an argument. The way his fists would ball up. How he would punch holes into the wall that Lily had to fix because he didn't want to pay for them to be fixed. Nor did he want to fix them. The times she would place Hunter back down in his crib and then fall to her knees in tears, remembering how he slammed the door and walked out.

"You are done being a father, Scott. I'm taking full custody."

[kirk-spock-in-the-impala]

Wanna write about Geralt thinking he’s ugly like in the books? Everybody else thinks he’s scary ugly but I want him to feel the softness of our love that says he’s a handsome lil baby boy. You don’t have to. I just love the way you write and bet you’d come up with an amazing story with his self deprecation as a theme

OMG YES I DO. the books are awesome, btw.

PROMPT FILL: GILDED LILIES (on AO3 here)

Summary: 

The world tells Geralt he’s a monster. Jaskier shows him he’s not.

CW: Geralt’s headspace; prejudice and xenophobia; deals heavily with finding oneself unattractive, so please read with care if you have issues with that.

Slightly canon divergent.

——————————

It wasn’t that Geralt wanted to be beautiful.  No, he understood that only sorcerers gained beauty along with their inhuman powers, but he wished that he could have remained unremarkable in his looks.  The distant memories of Geralt’s childhood told him he had once been perfectly average looking.  A dark haired, dark eyed boy of middling height and build.  Neither ugly nor handsome, he passed without comment wherever he had gone. 

 Among the boys at Kaer Morhen, looks were irrelevant to the training process, but even there, standing among boys ranging from Lambert’s strong, handsome features to the scarred visages of those struck by the pox in their youth, Geralt had felt neither confident nor insecure about his appearance.  He was so normal, so average, that the thought to consider his looks never cross his mind.

 The mutations changed that. 

 Not only was he one of the few boys to survive the Trial of the Grasses, but he was the only Witcher in history to receive additional mutations.  Because of that, not only did he have a Witcher’s characteristic, unnatural, cat-like eyes, but his hair had been bleached white, his teeth elongated, his features sharpened, his very bones thickened to accommodate the enhanced strength afforded by his mutated muscles.  The other Witchers had unnatural eyes that flashed in the darkness.  He was nearly as much of monster as those they hunted.

 Geralt understood the stark difference, the sheer hideousness of his appearance, the first time he left Kaer Morhen after completing his training.

 Before, where he had passed without notice, now villagers pointed, stared, and spat.  Gasps of shock, expressions of violent disgust, and whispers of “freak”, “mutant”, and “monster” dogged his steps.  On his first day, passing through the village at the base of the mountain below Kaer Morhen, he’d heard an elderly peasant woman whisper to her companion, “they’re making them uglier every year, ain’t they?  Those thrice damned mutant freaks.”

Compared to the havoc the mutations had wreaked on his body, the impact on his looks should have been insignificant.  But it still hurt.  Back then, he was young enough to still be idealistic.  To still dream of being a hero, a knight protecting the weak and vulnerable in the world. 

 But the decades that passed showed him that dreams were not for the likes of him.  The first time he saved a girl from bandits intent on stealing her virtue, he’d imagined she might be grateful.  And she had been.  Until she saw Geralt’s face.  Then, she’d screamed and thrown her shoes, rocks, dirt, whatever she could lay her hands on at him until he’d retreated. 

 Once could have been a fluke.  A terrified girl reacting to protect her life and her virtue from an unknown stranger.  But it happened again, and again, and again.  Travelers he saved on the road would chase him off once they got a look at who – at what – saved them.  Aldermen who contracted him would curl their lips and sneer when he showed up to accept the contract, giving him the barest of details before hurrying him back out of town to complete his task, the only purpose for which his existence was tolerated.  Villagers he’d saved from monsters would throw stones at him, chasing him out of town with vile words if he was lucky, and with pitchforks if he was not.

 Geralt knew from the other Witchers that prejudice was common, as was a certain lack of gratitude from those served, but none experienced the depth of vitriol that Geralt suffered.  Geralt had long since concluded that the difference was due to his appearance, his hideous, monstrous, inhuman appearance. 

 And so, he did his best to avoid human settlements.  He limited his interactions to the bare minimum required to complete his contracts.  He made sure to never raise his voice, to never show his anger.  He was unfailingly polite and soft spoken when he was forced to speak.  He kept his eyes averted and stayed in the shadows and corners of human settlements.  He entered villages only when absolutely required, and spoke to innkeepers and merchants only when his supplies were utterly exhausted.  He made sure to keep a supply of gold and precious gems on hand to compensate a healer in the rare event he couldn’t heal himself, knowing they would charge a premium for interacting with him, and even more of one if they were forced to touch him.

 After nearly a century living in the shadows because of his monstrous nature, Geralt was resigned to his lifestyle.  On occasion, in a quiet village that was more tolerant of him than most, he would take a chance and see if the tavern keeper would be willing to serve him.  Every once in a great while, they were, and he would sit in the farthest, darkest corner of the tavern to nurse his ale in silence, hood up and eyes down, trying his best to blend into the background.

 It worked well for him.  He’d get to enjoy his ale and he’d yet to have a problem with the other patrons, if they noticed him at all.

 But all good things must end.

 In Posada, on a bright, sunny day before heading out to complete a contract for a “devil” (it was not a devil, but Geralt suspected it might be a sylvan), Geralt sat in his usual dark corner, enjoying a surprisingly good ale.  The bard playing for the patrons crowded around the tavern’s large windows was as skilled with his lute playing as he was terrible with his lyrical composition, but Geralt let the words pass through his ears without listening to them, content to enjoy the music alone. 

 He was shocked to his core when the bard, having completed his set to a rain of bread and jeers, not only came up to him, but sat down.  Geralt immediately stood to leave, head down to hide his face in his hood, taking his half-full tankard with him, when the bard stopped him.  “I know who you are.”

 Geralt froze.  The tavern keeper knew, of course, but exposing his identity, his presence, could potentially cause a violent reaction amongst the tavern’s other patrons, who doubtless would want to clear him out of their space as soon as possible.

 “You’re Geralt of Rivia.”  The bard said, clearly pleased with his identification skills, and, fortunately, quietly.

 Geralt leveled a quelling glare at him before he could stop himself.  His face fully lit by the sunlight coming through the windows when he raised his head to do so.  He took a quick glance around the tavern, seeing they’d not been noticed yet, and stalked out the door, leaving his ale behind, his rare moment of peace shattered.  Luckily, he always paid in advance in case he needed to make a quick exit, so the tavern keeper let him go without comment. 

 Walking swiftly to Roach, he checked her tack before unhitching her from the post, leading her out to the road.  As he moved to mount, he heard light, quick steps behind him. 

 “Wait!”  The bard called out, lute banging on his back as he hastily stuffed bread into his shoulder bag, “I’m coming with you!”

 Geralt took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm, to remain soft, inoffensive.  “No, you’re not.”  He said, mounting Roach and turning his head away from the bard.

 “Yeah, no, I totally am.  Meeting you is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me, and I’m not going to let this chance pass by!”  The bard said brightly, moving to stand at Geralt’s left stirrup. 

 Geralt heaved a sigh, looking down at the young man, and he was a young man, unsure whether he should be annoyed or pleased at his persistence in keeping Geralt’s company.

 The bard looked up, meeting his gaze fully for the first time.  “Wow, yeah, you’re gorgeous.” He said, staring up at Geralt with an expression Geralt didn’t recognize.  Gorgeous? Geralt didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. 

 He kicked Roach on, setting her off at a quiet walk toward the village gate.  Wouldn’t do to move any faster, no matter how much he wanted to leave this odd bard behind.  Faster meant more attention.  Faster was dangerous.

 The bard kept up, walking more swiftly in his fancy shoes than he had any right to, chattering away about anything and everything, from his latest doublet, to some character named Valdo Marx, to how pleasing Geralt’s hair was when the sun hit it just so.

 After a long hour of walking, followed closely by the young bard, Geralt arrived at the hill close to the site of the reported “devil”.  He stopped and dismounted Roach, securing her safely to a tree branch with ample room to graze. 

 The bard trotted right up next to him.  “So, where to next?  I’m Jaskier, by the way.”  He said, thrusting out a hand to shake.

 Geralt just looked at it.  No one had ever wanted to shake his hand before, but he wouldn’t play into whatever this bard – Jaskier – had planned by going off script. 

 He just moved on with his hunt, heading out to look for clues on his quarry’s location and identity, tossing a gruff, “stay with the horse” over his shoulder at the bard.  If he couldn’t get the bard to leave him, at least he could try and keep him safe.

 Jaskier didn’t listen.  Not then, not after they eventually escaped from Filavandrel, and not for the next several months he followed Geralt all about the Continent, sharing camp sites, meals, and the occasional room at an inn.  With Jaskier’s presence, one in every dozen innkeepers or so was willing to lend Geralt a room, with the understanding he was under the supervision and control of his human keeper.  When he was alone, asking for a room was a useless exercise.  Geralt wasn’t sure if Jaskier understood that or not, but he wouldn’t risk losing access to more frequent hot baths and comfortable beds by pointing it out. 

 The oddest thing about Jaskier though was not his persistence in following Geralt, but his persistence in complimenting him.  It was always “your hair is so soft” or “gods, your eyes are to die for” or “you’re so attractive, it’s not fair.”  More than that, more than those incomprehensible words, was the fact that Jaskier touched him.  Freely and often.  A pat on the shoulder, gentle hands combing through his hair while he bathed, a warm body leaning against his by the campfire.  People didn’t touch him.  Didn’t like to look at him.  And yet, Jaskier did.  Geralt didn’t understand it. 

 He knew he was monstrous; he knew he wasn’t fit for human companionship, and yet, Jaskier was seemingly unaware of that obvious fact.  At first, Geralt had thought the compliments and the touching were all a great, cruel joke to Jaskier, but months of exposure showed him that Jaskier was as genuine as he was foolhardy, and he held nothing back when he felt Geralt did something that deserve censure.  If Jaskier complimented him or touched him, it was because he wanted to, and that was beyond Geralt’s comprehension.

 Geralt’s confusion, his frustration with Jaskier not following the script, all came to head when they were preparing to attend a fancy banquet, hosted by one of Jaskier’s friends from Oxenfurt, which Jaskier had convinced Geralt to attend as his companion.  “I can’t just show up alone, Geralt!”  Jaskier had said.  “Besides, I can’t resist a chance to show off my lovely muse.”

 As Geralt bathed, scraping drowner blood out of his white hair, Jaskier flitted about the room, laying out finery for Geralt to wear, commenting how nice everything would look on him and how jealous his friends would be when they saw him on the arm of such a gorgeous companion

 Geralt couldn’t take it anymore.  “Stop it!” He growled, turning a frustrated glare on Jaskier.  “Stop saying things like that!”

 Jaskier froze.  He must have seen something in Geralt’s expression, because he immediately dropped the ribbon he was inspecting, one of his many choices to use on Geralt’s hair, and knelt at the side of the tub by Geralt’s left side. 

 He reached for Geralt’s cheek and Geralt flinched away, hiding his face behind a curtain of wet hair.  Tension thrummed through his frame and his posture was abjectly miserable, fists clenched around the edges of the bath, knuckles white.

 Jaskier frowned, uncertain where this upset was coming from, but knowing how reserved Geralt was, he knew the cause was substantial to create this strong a reaction in his normally stoic friend. 

 He reached out again and gently turned Geralt to face him.  Geralt flinched, but didn’t pull away. 

 Geralt’s eyes remained firmly down, brows drawn together, shame flooding him.  He’d shouted at Jaskier, growled at him like an animal, all over the little, innocuous lies Jaskier liked to tell himself about Geralt’s appearance.  If he was lucky, Jaskier would simply leave.  If he was unlucky, he’d be getting a visit from the guards.

 “Geralt?”  Jaskier prompted, concern clear in his voice.  “Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

 Geralt’s jaw clenched, daring a glance up at Jaskier before averting his eyes again.  “Forgive me.  I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”  This time he did pull away.

 “No, you shouldn’t have, but I’m more concerned with why.  Have I upset you?  Hurt you?  Please, tell me.”  Jaskier waited, watching as Geralt’s eyes darted about, jaw clenching and unclenching.

 Geralt didn’t know what to say.  This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.  He had a role, a script, and Jaskier just came in and flipped the papers out of his hands, setting his own, improvised pattern instead.  Geralt didn’t know what to do.  What to think.  He just knew it hurt that Jaskier kept giving him glimpses of his childhood dream, a dream he knew was forever out of reach.

 But he had already behaved unforgivably, so he might as well get some information about Jaskier’s incomprehensible actions before he inevitably left.  Could serve him well in the future if he ever met anyone else willing to tolerate him for more than a few moments.

 Geralt drew in a breath and went for it, heart racing in his chest.  “Stop saying things that aren’t true.  I don’t understand why you do that.”  He spoke to the bathwater, unable to look at Jaskier.

 “Whatever do you mean?”  Jaskier asked, anxious to ease the pain he saw on his dear friend’s face.

 “You call me ‘gorgeous’, you compliment my hair, my looks.” Geralt shook his head, bewilderment evident in his tone.  “I know it’s not true, so why do you keep saying it?”  Geralt finally looked up, searching Jaskier’s expression, face lined with pained confusion.

 Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest, aching for his friend, for the decades of suffering that simple ask revealed.

 He placed a hand gently over Geralt’s where it was clenched around the edge of the wooden tub, meeting Geralt’s eyes calmly.  Geralt’s hand jumped beneath his, but did not pull away.

 “Because it is true.  You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met.  And one of the most noble, to keep fighting to protect people who will never appreciate all that you do and all that you sacrifice.”  Jaskier said, firmly and kindly.

 Geralt shook his head sharply, looking away.  He knew what he was.

 Jaskier leaned forward to keep Geralt’s face in sight, thumb rubbing gently over Geralt’s clenched fist.  “What do you think you look like?”  He asked.

 Geralt scoffed.  “Like a monster.”  He stated it like the indisputable fact he knew it to be.

 Jaskier closed his eyes briefly, devastated to hear confirmed what he always suspected.  Geralt had no idea of his own worth, his own beauty, having internalized for far too long the fear and hatred dumped on him by villagers unable to accept that something could be different and still be worthy.

 Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s fist, reaching out with his other hand to turn Geralt’s face to his again.  Holding his chin gently so he could not look away, Jaskier said firmly, “there is nothing monstrous about you.”  Geralt huffed in disbelief, trying to avert his eyes, but Jaskier held him in place.  “Your mutations made you unique, gave you the ability to do your job, to protect all of us from the real monsters.  Your hair, your eyes, hell, even your teeth, they show the sacrifices you’ve made to protect our Continent.  From a purely aesthetic perspective, you are stunning.  But as a person, you are beyond compare.”

 Geralt stared, unable to respond, unsure of what to say in the face of Jaskier’s firm belief that he was worthy, that he was not monstrous to behold.  When he was young, he knew he was unremarkable.  After his mutations, he knew he was a monster.  Yet, Jaskier seemed equally sure that Geralt was neither of those things. 

 Jaskier saw the conflict in his friend’s face.  He knew that one conversation would not change a lifetime of conviction.  He gently leaned his forehead against Geralt’s, closing his eyes.  “One day, you’ll believe me, and until then, I’ll remind you every day that you are worthy, that you are gorgeous, and that you mean the world to me.”

 Jaskier pulled back, keeping his eyes locked with Geralt’s.  Geralt saw nothing but calm assurance in Jaskier’s eyes.  No matter how remarkable, how unprecedented his words, Jaskier believed them to his core. 

 Geralt didn’t believe them.  He had nearly a century of evidence to the contrary.  But if this one remarkable man believed him worthy, believed him beautiful, then at least in Jaskier’s world, Geralt didn’t have to be a monster.

[halothenthehorns]

WEASLEYS' WIZARD WHEEZES

The moment Harry sat back down he passed the baby along to Sirius, while Remus got started with a genuine smile still in place, and sadly having to hope it would last.

Harry spun through the Floo channel until he started to feel sick and closed his eyes.

"Let's just hope you end up in the right grate this time," Lily muttered to herself, still sore she even had to think back on a time this had happened, couldn't her boy ever go through one thing normally?

Then he came to such a jarring halt that he fell forward right into the Weasleys' kitchen. The moment Harry's ears caught up to him, he distinguished Fred's voice asking if his treat had been eaten, while offering Harry a hand up.

"Have I mentioned how much I love those twins?" Sirius demanded with the widest of smirks still in place, "because I don't think I mention it enough."

"Couldn't be prouder," James agreed with a serious nod.

  Harry agreed he had, then asked what it was? Fred happily explained that it was called a Ton-Tongue Toffee, that he and his twin had invented them.

"Invented them?" Remus repeated, double checking he'd read that right.

"You mean the twins have actually started creating their own products to prank people?" Sirius demanded, looking faint from happiness.

"That's brilliant," James breathed, his eyes lighting with more new possibilities he'd never even thought of. "What's more is, they clearly work! Can you imagine if they keep going with this?"

"They'd put Zonko's out of business in a heartbeat," Remus agreed at once.

Harry was watching all of them with a very delighted settling feeling indeed, surprised that for once his first instinct was to agree with them, and he was actually happy for it. He had quite a lot of faith indeed that Fred and George were only just getting started.

Lily only let the boys prattle on with a few more hopes, and groans they wished they'd come up with this themselves, before she inserted, "Alright you lot, enough. We'll be here all day if you keep this up."

James still had his arm happily around her as he teased, "You just don't want to admit you like the idea."

She grinned right back as she said, "I'll readily admit it's an interesting idea, from what we've heard they've certainly got the skill and ideas, but I want to see how far they think they'll take it." After all, there was a difference between concocting fake sweets in your free time and handing them out as pranks, and going full blown like these boys were thinking and possibly over exaggerating. She flicked her fingers at Remus for him to keep going, which he happily obliged.

They'd been wanting to try those on someone all summer.

"What with their brother's knowledge of said twins, those two were probably lacking in the guinea pig department," Remus snickered.

The rest of the kitchen exploded with laughter, and Harry looked around in surprise to see not just George and Ron, but also two other red head's he'd never met, but knew they must be Bill and Charlie, the eldest siblings.

"Oh cool," Sirius somehow still managed to get even more excited, he'd been really wanting to meet at least Charlie, find out what kind of insanity that one must house to be working with dragons of his own free will.

The closer of the two got to his feet first and offered his hand, which housed old burn marks. He was on the stockier side like Fred and George, and Harry knew this must be Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania. His face was so tan you could hardly make out the freckles, with thick burly arms, but red hair short and shaggy.

Harry shook his hand then turned to the last one, who came as a bit of a surprise. All Harry had ever heard about Bill was an older version of Percy, Prefect and Head Boy at Hogwarts, and thought he'd probably be just as fond of the rules.

"I guess I can see why you'd think that," James gave a slight pout. "After all, you'd yet to meet a fun Prefect or Head Boy as far as you knew."

"But this sounds like it's about to get interesting," Sirius chirped, having noted that 'surprising' part most of all.

The man in person though, looked like he was plenty of fun. He had his hair in a ponytail down his back, and a fang hook earring in his left ear. His clothes looked more like something you'd see at a rock concert, with dragon hide boots.

"There's the older brother I always wanted," James chuckled.

"Now that hurt," Sirius mock pouted this time. "You've got me haven't you?"

"Sirius," James groaned in a long suffering voice, "you are 145 days older than me, let it go!"

"I doubt he ever will," Remus muttered, knowing full well Sirius had to keep something over their heads, and though he rarely acted it, being the oldest was one he loved.

Lily was just happy to see her boys joking around again at all. She'd been so worried after the travesty of the last book that they'd truly lost a part of themselves, but if they decided to keep themselves going with old jokes she'd heard a thousand times, she'd take it in a heartbeat.

Further introductions were stalled by the arrival of Mr. Weasley, who appeared with a pop next to George.

Harry couldn't help but give a startled little blink. He'd heard of apparition of course, he could even do it himself if he didn't think about it, but the idea still gave his fourteen year old mind a bit of a spin. What stopped him from appearing right where George was and hurting them both? Was there a distance limit? He was positive he learned all of those answers in another time though, so for now he decided not to pester the others with them.

He was looking angrier than Harry had ever seen him.

"It's sad that he didn't appreciate that as much as we did," Remus sighed.

"He didn't have all the backstory," Sirius snorted, giving Harry a sideways look as he continued. "I'm sure if Harry would tell him and Molly what all's been going on in that house, Arthur would have done the opposite of stopping his sons."

Harry just gave him a half blank, half curious look, which none of them bought for a second.

He began shouting at the twins at once, demanding to know what they'd given him. Fred shot back, with a smirk still in place, that he hadn't given him anything, he'd just dropped it.

"The details make it," James praised, nearly bouncing in his seat all over again, forcing this happy feeling to linger as he thought back on all the times he'd done this to McGonagall or any number of teachers, still forcefully ignoring one certain person who would often be in there with him.

Arthur snapped back that he had dropped it on purpose, he'd known he was on a diet! George eagerly cut in by asking how big his tongue had gotten?

"Now was not the time to ask that," Remus couldn't help but correct with an indulgent smile.

"Really, there isn't a good time," Sirius shrugged. "May as well get it in now, see if they could find out from him by surprise."

Their dad snapped back that it had been four feet before he'd managed to shrink it back!

Causing all five of them to burst out laughing again.

Harry and the rest of the Weasleys started laughing all over again, causing Mr. Weasley to shout all the louder that it wasn't funny!

"Oh but it is," James disagreed, eagerness still his dominant feature as he looked like he still wanted to go watch all of that in person all over again, "you're just not in on the full joke."

"Bill and Charlie might not even be, and they're clearly laughing along," Lily giggled.

He was clearly getting more angry as he kept going, reminding his boys that his life's work was trying to build better Wizard Muggle relations, and here his own sons were baiting that boy!

"Ouch," Lily winced.

"Okay, yeah, I can understand where he'd get that from," Remus frowned.

"It's not like Arthur knows better," James sighed.

"Well to be fair, I can see the twins pulling this on anyone, not just a Muggle who deserved it." Sirius offered, "not that Arthur knows he deserves it," he amended with a mutter at the end.

Fred shot back that he hadn't done it because he was a Muggle, while George added on they'd done it because he was a git that deserved it, turning to Harry and asking him to back them up. Harry quickly agreed Dudley shouldn't be pitied, and Mr. Weasley snapped back that wasn't the point.

"Then what was the point?" James couldn't help but ask with a small smile.

"That they did it, and they shouldn't have," Lily shrugged, still seeing the parent's side of it better than the boys it seemed.

He began to threaten that he was going to tell their mother and then they'd be in for it, when she stepped into the kitchen herself. She asked what she needed to be told, and Arthur deflated at once. Clearly however angry he'd been, he hadn't really been planning on telling Molly.

Which gave all of them a collective snort of amusement. Clearly Arthur wasn't that mad then, but was just telling the boys off, while probably holding back some laughter with this response. Molly on the other hand, from what they'd seen of her, would probably do a lot worse than just shouting at them. The Dursley's deserved it, that wasn't being questioned in this room, but how much the two Weasley parents understood this they had no clue, and Harry probably wasn't going to enlighten them.

There was a long dragged out silence while Arthur eyed his wife, but was thankfully saved for a few moments more by Hermione and Ginny entering as well, both smiling at the sight of Harry, and when he smiled back, causing Ginny to blush as red as her hair, having always had a bit of a crush on Harry.

Harry couldn't help but give a soft smile, still looking back and finding that crush adorable, though he wasn't sure of why. He hoped Ginny grew out of this shyness phase soon, he'd really like to remember he talked to her at some point.

Mrs. Weasley wouldn't be distracted long, repeating that Arthur needed to tell her something, her voice getting a dangerous edge.

"I get the feeling they've all heard the tone at one point or another," Sirius muttered.

Arthur tried to brush it off, saying Fred and George had done, something, but he'd spoken to them about it.

"Hmm," Lily uttered softly to herself, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She didn't really think what Arthur had yelled at them was really akin to 'had words with them' more a mild telling off that probably didn't even phase the trouble making twins, but as she didn't really think Fred and George deserved a telling off for what they'd done, she wasn't going to argue the point either.

Molly got exasperated at once, demanding if this had anything to do with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?

"Now what's this?" Remus perked up, his mind automatically flashing back to their earlier discussion.

"Sound like the name of a store to anyone else?" James yelped eagerly.

Sirius was practically wiggling around in pleasure. From what he'd heard about these twins, he figured they'd be brilliant if they really set their mind to that sort of thing!

Hermione cut in from the doorway that perhaps Ron should show Harry where he was sleeping.

"Subtle," Lily snickered.

Ron frowned back at her that there was no reason, he was sleeping in the same place as last time.

"And Ron still has no clue," Sirius cackled.

Hermione just repeated that it was best that they show him anyways, and just as Ron agreed it would be better to get out of there, George agreed he'd better come along as well.

"I think it's a good idea the lot of them go," Remus agreed, not even bothering to hide his smile.

Molly snapped that those two weren't going anywhere though, as Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny quickly exited the kitchen and went for the stairs. The moment they were out of sight, Harry asked what Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes were, causing Ron and Ginny to laugh, while Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Please don't tell me Hermione got that stick back up her butt," James pouted, "I think this sounds like a brilliant idea."

"Just because she didn't laugh doesn't mean she doesn't approve," Lily reproached, while giving a slight frown as well, she didn't see why Hermione would dislike the idea.

Ron happily explained that their mum had found some order forms the twins had created in their room, with price lists for items they'd been inventing, all prank items.

"Oh Merlin they are," Sirius crowed, bouncing the baby around so much he was giggling up a storm, still managing to make the lot of them laugh even harder. Not one of them could come up with a reason why this wasn't a brilliant idea.

Ginny admitted her surprise at the idea, saying how they'd heard explosions from their room for ages, but they hadn't known they'd been doing anything. They thought the twins just liked the noise.

"Perfectly understandable," Remus nodded, his eyes still alight with all the possibilities this could lead to.

Ron did add on though that most of the stuff was kind of dangerous.

"Dangerous?" Lily frowned in confusion. "How so? Whatever they used on Dudley seemed to work fine, and if Arthur figured out how to fix it without even fully understanding what they'd done, I doubt it's that bad."

They all remained silent, not really having an answer.

Plus, they were planning on selling it at Hogwarts to make some money.

Until Sirius heard that, then he offered, "Maybe because not all of it's tested," he gave a careless shrug like he wasn't sure that this should still be classified. "But they need to find guinea pigs somewhere, so they're choosing Hogwarts. Not a bad idea, since Madam Pomfrey could fix anything major."

Lily chose to roll her eyes at him, but agreed with his logic none the less.

Mrs. Weasley had lost it at them, forbidding them from making anything else, burning up all their forms.

"Harsh," Remus winced, thinking that she could have taken them away until they were more proofed or something.

She had already been angry with them, since they hadn't gotten as many O.W.L.s as she thought they'd get.

Lily couldn't help a little sigh of pity for the twins. She of course understood the want of a mother to see her kids do well in school, but going from previous experiences, she had the feeling Molly was expecting Percy like results from those two, and that wasn't exactly fair of her.

O.W.L.s were Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the examinations Hogwarts students took at the age of fifteen.

"I still don't understand those random inserts," James muttered. "We know."

Remus just ignored him.

Then Ginny went on to say that their mother and the twins had a big fight about their after Hogwarts life, as they wanted to open a joke shop, but their mother expected them to join the Ministry.

"Molly's starting to depress me," Sirius pouted. "Have we seen any indication that those two could cope behind a desk?"

"I can see her point," Lily sighed. "She thinks that would be better for them, and what they're wanting is really expensive and risky if it doesn't work, but I do wish she'd give them a shot at it."

"Yes well, hopefully she'll calm down and see reason when they blow up a school corridor or something," Remus muttered, hoping that the thousandth time those two got into trouble would make her see they had a knack for it.

As they continued climbing the stairs, a door opened when they hit the second landing, Percy's agitated face on the other side. Harry politely greeted him, and Percy only gave half as warm a reply, telling them off for making so much noise.

"You live in a house of how many people?" James shot back with a raised brow. "I hardly think it would ever be quiet there."

He was in here trying to work, and it was hard to concentrate with so many people tromping up and down the stairs all day.

"I am positive you've been living with that your whole life," Sirius muttered, "and you've learned to get over it before."

Ron snapped back they weren't being that loud, they were walking! Harry still asked what Percy was working on?

All three boys groaned, not even remotely curious to hear about this, but Lily gave her son an appreciative smile, always loving how her son tried to keep up with Percy, even when his siblings discouraged otherwise.

He told them, a bit too smugly, that it was a report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

"Does he have to be so pompous, about everything?" James muttered, noting that was 90% of his description.

His report would make it so that they would have a standardized cauldron bottom thickness, as leakages had been increasing in recent years. Ron's face was deadpan as he said back that this was definitely a life altering report.

Which at least gave the three Marauders a good laugh.

Percy flushed slightly as he said back that what he was doing was very important, if this wasn't checked they could be getting shoddy work and it could seriously endanger-

"Oh don't go dragging me into this conversation," Sirius groaned, his proud smirk saying otherwise at any opportunity to use that joke, even if Harry was the only one that laughed along.

Ron just brushed him off and tried to usher them up the stairs.

Lily couldn't help a little sigh of pity for Percy now. She completely understood the importance of what Percy was doing, and it was good to take you work seriously, but the fact that all four boy's eyes were glazing over as this conversation continued probably wasn't boding well for Percy's siblings on the stairwell either. It must be difficult for the poor thing not to have anyone to talk to about this.

Percy slammed the door shut behind them as they kept going upstairs, and could now hear shouting from the kitchen below, which meant Arthur had finally told Molly about the toffees.

Which didn't help anyone's mood, as the more they heard about this, the more they'd like to defend Fred and George for every shot Molly would take at them. Here they'd thought coming to the Burrow would make them feel better! Oh well, at least this was still better than hearing about the Dursleys.

Ron's room looked almost exactly the same as the last time Harry had been here, most of the space covered in the bright orange color of his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, and a fish tank that now housed a frog.

"Bet if he didn't have that owl, he'd take that as his pet," James said with forced cheerfulness, who knew talking about Ron's pets would ever cause him a sore spot. "Then he'd really have to take back that comment he made about Trevor first year."

Ron's old rat, Scabbers,

Even getting out that fake name for the rat came with a cold bite to Remus' tone, but he kept going forcefully so that no one had to linger on it long.

was long gone, and in his place was the tiny gray owl that Ron had got last year, hopping happily on the spot and twittering. Ron told Pig to shut up as he walked past,

"Well, Ron's owl is officially named Pig," Lily said with a touch too much chipper, like the others shaking off any mention of that old rat. "Can't wait to hear the explanation for that!"

edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room.

James let out a surprised whistle as he tried to imagine that, Ron's room had sounded cramped before!

He explained to Harry that the twins were up here with them, as Bill and Charlie were using their room. Percy got to keep his room to himself since he was working.

Lily couldn't help but purse her lips as she once again saw both sides to that coin. The other two boys were on holiday, but Percy wasn't, so he would need his work space, but that didn't mean he shouldn't have to put up with at least one of his brothers, it could have been spaced out a little more evenly. It did bring up the interesting question of how room assignments had gone before the oldest two had moved out, who had shared rooms then? She didn't bring it up though, as she didn't really find it her place to criticize the Weasley's as to where they had their kids sleep.

Harry asked why Ron had named his owl Pig, and Ginny put in that was because Ron was being stupid, his proper name was Pigwidgeon.

"Ah, yes, because that makes much more sense," Sirius snorted in delight.

"I guess Pig isn't a bad second then," Remus agreed with a light chuckle.

"I really want to know if there's a backstory to that name as well," James smirked.

Ron rolled his eyes at his sister as he said that he tried to change it, but now his owl wouldn't answer to anything else,

"I wasn't really aware owls 'answered' to anything." Harry said in surprise. "It's not as if they come when they're called, if Hedwig's not on her perch I can't tell her to come."

"I think Ron just didn't change it because he's being nice to Ginny," Lily shrugged. "That name is a mouthful though, so he just shortens it to Pig."

so now he was Pig. He was told to keep him up in his room, because he annoyed the other two owls Errol and Hermes. Then again, he annoyed his owner to.

"I am just so glad Ron liked his present." Sirius beamed, looking all the more pleased the owl he'd chosen was getting the added bonus of randomly agitating Ron, something he'd do to any of his friends in a heartbeat just for a good laugh.

"Did Molly and Arthur say anything?" Remus asked, thinking he'd certainly question a kid who came home with a pet they hadn't left with.

"They asked where he got it from," Harry nodded in agreement, "and Ron said a friend got tired of owning him so passed him on to Ron."

Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. Harry knew Ron too well to take him seriously.

"Well that's good, because I'm Sirius," Sirius happily shot in as well, while Harry snickered and Remus still stoutly ignored him.

He had moaned continually about his old rat, Scabbers,

Remus now regretted not having let Sirius bask in his joke at least a few moments longer, because his face switched back to narrow eyed hate in seconds, but again Remus chose not to pause as it wouldn't do anyone any good.

but had been most upset when Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, appeared to have eaten him.

"If only," James hissed under his breath.

Harry then asked where Crookshanks was, and Hermione said he was probably out in the garden chasing the gnomes, he liked doing that. Harry then switched topics to asking about Percy, if he enjoyed his work? Ron repeated back that he more than enjoyed it with a dark tone.

"That's a bit intense," James frowned thoughtfully at the description. "Is Percy really acting that bad?"

"Picture how he was described acting about his school work, Prefect, and Head Boy duties, and double it," Harry sighed, going more on instinct than actual memory for that answer, but from the few moments he'd had of Percy's work life, he was positive he wasn't wrong, and somehow still knew it would only get worse.

Ron was quite sure that he wouldn't even come home if their dad didn't force him to. Then he begged Harry not to ask Percy about his boss, as he was obsessed with the man. He'd go on for ages about Mr. Crouch's

"Crouch?" Lily repeated in surprise.

"He's the head of Magical Cooperation?" Sirius also couldn't help a shocked tone as well.

Harry was frowning at the mention of this name, it held some significance to him he couldn't place, so he asked, "How do you guys know him?"

"He's slated to be the next minister," James shrugged. "He's the most anti-Death Eater on the Wizengamot right now, been fighting fire with fire if you will."

Harry's frown only managed to deepen, as this only managed to raise more questions, like what a Death Eater was, then he got a sinking feeling deep inside saying he didn't want to know that answer for as long as possible, so didn't press the point.

"I think the guys a bit of a nut," Remus snorted. "Getting a bit too intense with his job really, but no one's denying he's getting results either."

Harry vaguely remembered them mentioning something about this back during his first year talk with Hagrid when Fudge had been mentioned as the minister, and he had an inkling that this may connect to his own feelings towards the name, but they were all vague and he had no way to string them together, so he just nodded his content as Lily added, "Guess when Fudge got the job Crouch got shunted elsewhere. I'm sure he's bitter about it."

The boys shrugged, but mostly with disinterest now. The surprise had worn off, and they didn't really care about him one way or the other, it was just interesting that this was how it had played out. They wouldn't deny they'd like to hear the reason Crouch didn't get the position of Minister, but it wasn't a top priority to them either.

opinion on this, and what they'd been discussing about that, Ron even made the quip they'd be announcing an engagement any time now.

Which gave Harry a good laugh at least, much like he had when Ron had said this the first time.

Hermione then turned the conversation back on Harry, asking if he'd liked the food they'd sent? Harry agreed those cakes had saved his life.

"Probably literally," Lily sniffed with distaste, hoping Molly would serve dinner soon.

Ron began to ask if he'd heard from- but was cut off by a pointed look from Hermione, and he didn't finish the question.

"Aw, I think Ron was about to ask about me," Sirius gave a slight smile.

"Good that he didn't get it out though," Lily sighed. "Hadn't you said Ginny was up there?"

"Yep," Harry nodded, smiling as well as he knew his friends were just as worried about his godfather as he'd been.

Harry didn't need him to, he knew Hermione and Ron were wanting to ask about Sirius, they'd been so involved in his escape last year they were as worried about him as Harry was. It wasn't a good idea though, to be discussing this in front of Ginny, who had no idea about any of this. The only people that did know where the three of them, and Professor Dumbledore.

Remus once again felt a swift kick in the gut that he hadn't been mentioned, which somehow kept hurting more rather than less as this carried on, and sadly his reading it seemed to have made the others realize this as well as he felt more than just lingering eyes on him as he read that, but he didn't acknowledge them and instead kept going loudly.

Ginny was watching all of them fidget in the awkward following silence, until Hermione offered that the shouting downstairs seemed to have stopped.

"Well she does know we get into some interesting stuff at school," Harry offered, doing the same thing now as his dad looked about ready to say something to Remus. "It was probably better Hermione didn't give her the chance to ask."

Sirius threw Harry a curious look as well, looking between him and Remus with a calculating look, but no one said anything else and Remus didn't look likely to give them the chance.

She suggested they all head back downstairs, and the other three agreed.

"Least they got to avoid that fight," Lily muttered, now watching the boys expectantly like she expected a fight to crop up now.

They went back to the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley, clearly still in a temper, announcing to them they'd be eating out in the garden, there wasn't enough room in the kitchen. She directed the girls to carry plates outside, which they quickly did, then asked the boys to take out the cutlery, while pointing her wand at some potatoes, which shot out of their skins and crashed into the wall.

"I can see why you love her cooking so much," Sirius gave a soft laugh.

She gave an exasperated sigh as she used her wand to direct a dustpan to clean that up while she started pulling more pans out of the cupboards, before bursting into speech about 'those two!' Harry didn't need to ask to know she was talking about the twins as she continued that they had no ambition, unless you counted making as much trouble as possible!

"I consider that plenty of ambition," Remus said sagely, happy to see Sirius and James smirk along, so at least he seemed to have convinced them to silently let the matter go for now.

Mrs. Weasley slammed a large copper saucepan down on the kitchen table and began to wave her wand around inside it. A creamy sauce poured from the wand tip as she stirred,

"Where's that coming from?" Harry asked in surprise.

"She probably has it stored somewhere, perhaps they have a cellar or something, and she's summoning it from there," Lily shrugged.

still half shouting her diatribe about how she knew her boys had brains, but they were wasting away while they pursued these troublesome wants. She'd had more owls about them then the rest of her kids put together!

"A genuine accomplishment," Sirius said brightly.

If they carried on like this, they'd wind up in front of the Improper Use of Magic Office!

"That shouldn't be a real issue until they come of age," James shrugged, after all he'd never heard those two get up to anything as bad as that.

She then gave a sharp jab towards the silverware drawer, which sprang open and sent a dozen knives shooting through the air to cut up the potatoes that had just been cleaned. She placed her wand down to pull out more pans, still demanding of nothing where she'd gone wrong with those two, but as she turned back to grab her wand again, it gave a squeak and turned into a rubber mouse.

Causing all five of them to release surprised snorts of laughter. Another Fred and George invention most likely, and yet another fairly clever idea. The more they heard, the more confident they all were they'd be amazing at a joke shop.

She began shouting at nothing how she'd told them to stop leaving those fake wands around! She grabbed her real wand and bustled back to the stove, and Ron quickly whispered to Harry they'd best get out of there while she was distracted, grabbing up some cutlery, while Harry did the same. They left Mrs. Weasley to her mutterings and edged out the back door.

"A fair idea," Lily sighed, "she's probably going to be that way until she gets it all out of her system, and you don't need that directed at someone who doesn't deserve it," she finished with a maternal eye on her son.

They didn't get far before they almost went tripping over Crookshanks, who shot by chasing what looked like a muddy potato on legs.

James gave a burst of laughter, recognizing it as a gnome of course, but the description was to priceless to pass up.

They kept walking towards the garden area, where they could hear some loud crashing noises.

Remus blinked in surprise as he read that, wondering what they were out there breaking now.

They found the source to be Bill and Charlie, who had decided to levitate two tables and were bashing them into each other several feet in the air, each trying to knock the others to the ground.

Causing all five of them to crack up laughing all over again. It seemed they'd found a clear indication of where Fred and George had found their role models, Ron's eldest two brothers seemed to find more than enough trouble with this small and brilliant display. Who knew what had started the fight, but fighting tables like that was brilliant! Molly was clearly over exaggerating that Bill and Charlie never caused trouble if this was what they were doing with their free time!

Fred and George were cheering, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was hovering near the hedge, apparently torn between amusement and anxiety.

"Oh come on Hermione," Sirius groaned, not able to get to a full pout because he was still chuckling. "Laugh at least a little, come on at least tell me she was giggling! That's hilarious!"

Harry was too busy laughing himself to answer.

Bill's table caught a leg of Charlie's and with a huge wrench, pulled it clean off. Then there was a thunk from above them, and Percy's head shot out of his window, yelling at all of them to keep it down!

"Killjoy," Remus pouted.

"Surprised he'd call them out like that," James rolled his eyes. "They can't be that distracting."

"I think he just likes yelling at people," Sirius said innocently.

Bill called back an apology, asking how his report was going? Percy shot back terribly, before slamming his window shut. Bill and Charlie were still chuckling as they set their tables back down.

"Liking them more and more," James said affectionately, already smiling at finally having an idea of all of the Weasley's after just one chapter, rather than his growing agitation at Percy who he'd heard about for three books now.

With a flick of his wand, the broken leg flew back to the table, and before they knew it, both were groaning under the mountains of food Mrs. Weasley had prepared. To Harry, who'd been living off of stale cake all summer, this was paradies!

"I can imagine," Lily nodded seriously, finally letting go of the lingering tension the Dursleys caused her as she now knew her boy was going to be properly taken care of.

He chose to listen in rather than join the conversations around him as he dug into the meal.

"Harry," Sirius groaned pitifully, eyeing Lily hopefully to get his point across.

"Yes, alright," she smiled back. "I'll scrounge up something for lunch after this."

At the far end of the table, Percy was telling his father all about his report on cauldron bottoms.

"Not this again," Remus sighed. "Three times in one chapter, I didn't want to hear about this the first time!"

"Harry, stop listening in on him already," Sirius pouted.

"I'll try," Harry shot back with an eye roll, it's not like he could go back and plug his ears from this.

Going on about how he'd have his report ready for Mr. Crouch by Tuesday, how it hadn't been expected until much later but their department was so busy he was proud he could help by getting his job done early. These arrangements for the World Cup were really hampering them, and they weren't getting any support from the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

Harry was really tempted to ask what that Department would, or in this case wouldn't, be doing to help, but the boys already looked so bored from Percy's talking he decided he wouldn't bother them more.

Mentioning Ludo Bagman,

"The Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps!" Sirius practically shouted in excitement, startling the baby in his arms. "You mean to tell me he's now head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports!?"

"It's not that surprising," Lily shrugged. "That field is often run by retired Quidditch players."

"We're just learning all kinds of things today," James shrugged, some interest gleaming in his eyes as well, telling Harry that maybe he could have gotten away with his question, but then Remus kept going and he decided it wasn't worth it.

but Arthur quickly cut in that Bagman was a good friend of his, he'd been the one to get them their tickets to the Cup.

"Arthur is friends with a Beater from the Wimbourne Wasps," Sirius practically drooled, all but wriggling in place all over again. "Can you imagine, that means he must be able to get tickets to practically any game he wants! And he got, eleven of them to the Cup!"

"Breathe Sirius," Remus reminded. "It hasn't happened yet, don't go hounding on him for another few years."

Sirius didn't deflate by much, he did consider it a good thing these things hadn't happened yet otherwise he'd probably be in Azkaban, but it was nice to finally hear something about the future that was encouraging!

Explaining that he'd done Bagman's brother, Otto, a favor once, something about a lawnmower with some supernatural powers, but Arthur had managed to smooth everything out.

"Would actually really love to hear the story behind that," Lily said mildly.

Percy gave a dismissive wave back, saying the man was likeable enough, but a terrible Department Head. He wasn't comparable to Mr. Crouch, who would never lose a member of his department and not go looking for her.

They all felt an odd prickling at the base of their neck at this throwaway line. People disappeared, it was a sad fact of life, but they couldn't help but flash back to Harry's odd dream of Voldemort claiming to have murdered someone. They were obviously just being paranoid though, it most likely wasn't connected...

Bertha Jorkins

Well there went that hope!

One glance at Harry showed him frowning in agitation at that name all over again, which meant none of them could even pretend that they were over thinking this.

"Wait," Remus frowned, thinking aloud now. "Bertha's working for Magical Games and Sports? How on earth does that help Voldemort in any way?"

"I still want to know why she had a memory charm placed on her that helped so much," Lily sighed. "She doesn't exactly work in a secretive department."

Harry gave a funny little twitch that only Sirius noticed, and he frowned in confusion and concern at him, but when Harry clearly was trying to repress any further reactions from their questions, Sirius instead offered, "Well, I'm still hoping that we don't find any of this out, because I'd rather not hear about Harry finding this out. Still feel bad for the poor thing, but can we move this along?"

Remus gave Sirius a look of mild surprise, unclear why Sirius was acting so concerned about the topic, but heeded it and kept reading.

had been missing for over a month now, and no one seemed to notice. Someone had said she'd gone to Albania and never come back.

'Albania,' Harry couldn't help but mentally repeat to himself in confusion. Something about their tickled something in his memory, but it was so tiny he wasn't even sure he had a real feeling about it. Just another missing piece to this ever growing puzzle.

Mr. Weasley agreed he'd spoken to Ludo about her, but he'd just laughed it off saying that Bertha had gotten lost plenty of times.

It was somehow even more sad to hear about this, knowing that she would never be found, a terrible ache returning the longer this dragged on because the person who did lead her to her death was someone they'd all like to see hung sometime soon!

Percy quickly agreed she was a hopeless thing, she'd been shunted between the departments for years,

It was somehow worse that James may have laughed and agreed with that before he knew she was dead, but now that he did know he wanted to smack Percy for speaking ill of her. That wasn't fair of course, Percy didn't know better, it just wasn't getting better to keep hearing about this.

but it was still sad of Bagman not to be doing anything about it. Mr. Crouch had even taken an interest in her, she'd worked in his department a while back and Mr. Crouch had been soft on her.

"Wonder why," Lily said in mild confusion, as she sounded a bit like a bother to a professional like Crouch.

Harry felt bile beginning to pile up on his tongue, there it was right there, something genuinely important he should remember at this insert, but whatever it was building up was gone the moment Remus kept going after he agreed with Lily at how odd it was.

Bagman though just kept laughing everyone off, saying she'd wound up in Australia instead of Albania, and she'd turn up in no time. Then Percy gave a great sigh of exhaustion, now raising his voice as he continued that his department had more than enough work to keep them busy rather than looking for random employees, they had another big event to organize after the World Cup.

"Oh yeah," Sirius muttered with disinterest, fidgeting with baby Harry's fingers to keep himself distracted. "Please don't tell me he's going to start going on about some world assembly I also don't care about."

Percy cleared his throat loudly when no one looked around and kept speaking to his father, about that top secret project.

James gave a forced snort, happy to be able to rag on Percy again for clearly trying to over shoot something that probably was about as important as his cauldron bottom report.

Ron caught Harry's eye and rolled his own, telling him that Percy had been hinting at this since he'd joined his department, had been trying to get them to ask for ages, but Ron just thought it had something to do with more thick-bottomed cauldrons.

"So glad Ron agrees," Remus gave a forced snicker, right in line with James on that one.

In the middle of the table, Mrs. Weasley was having an argument with Bill about his fang earring, which seemed to be new. She was asking what his bosses at the bank thought of it?

"Where did you get it?" Sirius asked innocently.

Bill just told her that nobody at the bank cared, so long as he brought home the treasure. Mrs. Weasley then switched tactics that she really wanted to give Bill's hair a trim, it was just getting silly how long it was. Ginny backed her brother up on that one though, saying that Dumbledore's was much longer and he liked it just like that.

Finally kicking the tension out of the room again with another laugh, as Ginny had a really good point on that one.

Next to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Charlie were all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

"A proper conversation that," James nodded seriously, wishing Harry had just been listening in on this the whole time.

Charlie was saying how it would be Ireland who won the Cup, they had the best players. Fred shot back that Bulgaria had Viktor Krum, the best Seeker there was! Charlie didn't disagree, but pointed out that was one best to seven very good, Ireland still had the upper hand. Then he sighed that it was still sad England hadn't made it in, how embarrassing that defeat had been. Harry eagerly asked about that match, and Charlie unhappily supplied the results of the game were Transylvania three hundred, England ten.

"Ye-ouch," Sirius winced horribly, still not wiping the smile off his face at such a lighthearted conversation topic he hoped would never end.

Then he told of a few other locals that had lost to other countries, which Harry listened to with fascination. Harry was on the Seeker position for his house team Gryffindor,

"One of your proudest school achievements," James nodded with a proud smirk, still not regretting it when Lily gave him a light swat for that.

and owned one of the best racing brooms in the world, a Firebolt.

"One of?" Sirius reproved with a challenging brow at him.

"The best," Harry happily corrected himself.

Flying came more naturally to Harry than anything else in the magical world.

"These books can repeat that as often as they like," Remus chuckled happily as he flipped the page, always enjoying watching his friends light up at that reminder no matter how often it was mentioned, or what consequences came of the game.

Dusk was beginning to settle, and Mrs. Weasley conjured up some candles as she went to fetch desert. Harry was feeling happy and sleepy now with a full belly, as Ron leaned over, checked to make sure no one was listening, and finally asked if Harry had heard from Sirius? Hermione listened in as Harry agreed he'd gotten two letters from him, and he'd said he was doing fine. Harry did consider for a moment telling them what he'd recently written to Sirius about, but decided against it. He didn't want to see them worry when he was feeling so content right now.

"Can't really blame you," Lily shrugged. "Most of the reason you didn't want to write to Ron was because you didn't want his whole family knowing about it, if you start telling them now they'd definitely hear."

Then Mrs. Weasley caught sight of the time, and demanded they all get to bed, they'd have to get up at the crack of dawn to make it to the Cup.

"Ouch," Remus winced at such a terrible time, but as this was involving the World Cup, James and Sirius didn't even flinch and just grinned more broadly.

As everyone was getting up from the table, Mrs. Weasley asked Harry to leave his school list out and she'd pick up whatever he needed in Diagon Alley for him, she was going to get her kids' stuff as well, and there might not be time to do it after the Cup was over, it had lasted for five days last time.

James was practically bouncing in his seat again, so much so that Lily decided to kick him off the couch again so that he could go annoy her son and Sirius, as she knew this was only going to get worse as they got closer to the game. James gave her a slight pout, claiming that she should love him enough to put up with all of his quirks, but didn't pursue the point as he gave her a quick kiss and flopped down on Harry's other side, still bouncing like a loon and causing Harry to laugh like crazy.

Harry said that he hoped that happened again, and Percy gave an indignant sniff that he hoped the opposite, he couldn't be away from the office that long!

"You don't have to stay the whole time," Remus rolled his eyes.

"Here's hoping he doesn't," Sirius agreed with a scoff, not understanding how anyone could wish Quidditch would end sooner!

Fred agreed how bad it could get, someone might give him more dragon dung.

Lily raised a brow in surprise, wondering what that was about.

Percy went beet red as he snapped back that had been a fertilizer sample from Norway!

"Okay," James said with a slight smirk, drawing the word out a bit as he imagined how that had come up.

Then as he stomped away, Fred whispered to Harry that no it hadn't been, it had been from the twins.

Causing all of the boys to crack up laughing merrily one last time.

"Have I mentioned how much I love those twins?" Sirius said a little breathily. "I don't think I quite mention that enough."

"Chapter's over," Remus said as he got up to hand the book to Lily, and then plopped down beside her since he felt bad she was sitting by herself. She took the book but gave him a wary eye, not entirely sure he'd restrain himself any better than the other boys when it came to the Quidditch game, but not going to protest the company for now.

[maraudersandlily20]

Repetition of History

James sat around with his friends, discussing their most recent missions. James and Sirius had been off to locate a Death Eater hideout, while Remus and Peter and Fabian were sent out to do ministry detailing. They were waiting for Frank and Gideon to return to report the settling of different wizarding families that had been affected by the fights. It was busy work, they felt like they hadn’t slept in days. But they were all buzzing, feeling the highs of their different victories. It was their typical lighthearted behavior.

Sirius was retelling a rather dangerous moment that had played out to the boys and they all laughed or cheered for him as he recounted facing the death eater. Lily stood in the doorway, arms folded, quietly watching the boys and their rambunctious natures clearly at play. James looked almost wild with excitement. 

“You know, boys, in a way I’m glad we’re all in this together. Those pricks don’t stand a chance against the likes of us!” he declared, laughing. “There’s nothing they can do to stop us! We’ll get this war out of the way in no time.”

It was words spoken by someone who had yet to really experience the hardships of war, or loss, or pain. They were pompous, arrogant words, laughing in the face of fear. And they were completely idiotic. 

When Gideon and Frank returned and the boys left the flat, James wandered into the kitchen to find Lily, furiously washing dishes. “Love?” He called, watching her stiff movements in curiosity. 

“Yes?”

“Are you alright? You look like you’re about to break that plate in half.”

She suddenly set the dishes back into the sink and braced herself on the counter, taking deep breaths in and out. When she seemed to get her bearings, she turned back to James with fire in her eyes. His look of confusion colored his face. 

“Do you think that this is a joke?” She said, her voice cold.

“What?”

“These battles. These missions. This war. Is it all some kind of big joke to you? A fanciful time to play hero with your mates?”

“What, Lily what are you-”

“Do you have any idea what is actually happening James? Do you understand how… how important what we are doing actually is?”

“Yes, Lils, I do. That’s why I’m going out on missions and risking my life. Because I know how serious this is.”

She growled in anger and fisted her hands. “I don’t think you do!” She yelled, her voice getting higher in pitch. 

“Lily,” James said, trying to soothe his fiance, “what’s going on?”

After a tense moment of silence, she grabbed her jacket from its hook and tossed James his as well. “Put that on. I have something I need to show you.”

He had barely obeyed her order before she grabbed onto his hand, and he felt the sudden gut flinging feeling that only came with apparation. When the moment was over and they had arrived at whatever location Lily wanted to show him, he felt the chill in the air. 

It was late September and the fall was coming in quickly and with a vengeance. You could feel it when you breathed. James took a moment to orient himself as Lily stepped away from him. They were standing between two large buildings, red bricks stacked on top of each other, the top layer looked a tad cleaner than the lower ones. He could see they were standing on a makeshift street, similar buildings lining up side by side. He stared up at them in wonder, confused as to their purpose and their sinister feeling.

He turned and found that Lily had walked away from him and was standing beside a small tower that held a compass arrow on top. It stood, like a bearer of death, in the clearing between buildings. The sun was going down, casting the entire place in a golden light, but it didn’t seem kind or warm. He went to stand beside Lily, hoping she would explain to him what was going on.

“I asked Minerva, once, what wizarding school was like before Hogwarts. Eleven years is a long time to go without a proper education. She said that some families sent their children to muggle primary school. Others, like your family, that had money, were able to send their children to group tutoring, like a pre-Hogwarts.” James nodded, confirming this. He had been sent to tutors before Hogwarts, a perk of his parent’s wealth. Lily pushed on. “I asked what was taught to these students throughout this time. She said it varied from teacher to teacher, but it was heavily focused on controlling young magic, as well as the history of the wizarding world in Britain and greater Europe. And I asked her,” she turned to look at him, “if muggle history was ever taught. She said that no tutor she had ever met taught much muggle history, unless they were passionate about it.” 

She walked toward the tower, her palm resting on the bricks. “My mother would never stand for that. She didn’t much like public school, so she and my dad would read us history books. They wanted us to know what the world was like, what was good and what was bad, and how to tell the difference. They took us here when I was fifteen.” She turned to look at him with a tightlipped smile. “I was heavily immersed in magic and saw no real reason to continue my muggle studies. But my mother said that I would continue to learn about all aspects of the world, wizard or no.” 

Her eyes scanned around the buildings, as if seeing memories in her mind that James could only imagine. Like there was a world right in front of her that he was not able to see. “Standing here, it’s almost like I can hear them.”

“Hear who?”

She looked at him sadly, and simply said, “The dead.” Her voice was unsettling. He shifted at her words, pulling his jacket tighter around himself. “This was what is known as Roll-Call square. The prisoners would be pulled together into this square every morning, having their names called off one at a time, wondering if that day was going to be the day they would die. Their captors would make examples of a few of them, having mass hangings of those suspected of escape attempts. Hundreds of people were killed every day.” She started walking, as if taking James on a tour of this place of death.

They walked past another building on their left, and the building on their right had what looked like large chimneys sticking from the roof. With a sinking feeling, he began to have an inkling as to where they were. Lily turned right past the chimney building and James could see a large imposing fence, made of barbwire. It was something out of a nightmare.

“Is this…” He started, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. 

“It’s called Auschwitz.” She stated calmly, her hands burrowing into her jacket pockets. They headed toward the fence as Lily continued talking. “My parents brought Petunia and I here as teenagers because they wanted us to understand how terrible human beings could be. I think, in their minds, you didn’t understand the world unless you knew about Nazis.”

“We did learn a bit about this,” James murmured, trying to keep his tone low. “I guess I just had never really understood the weight of it all until I was, well, here.”

They walked a bit in silence, taking in the buildings that surrounded them and the fence they approached. There was a huge feeling of history in the air, as if this place had never really moved on from the terrible years it had experienced. It was as if someone had gathered all of the bad memories, the bad feelings, anything associated with death, and wore it like a cloak. It was suffocating. When they reached the long stretch of wire, Lily reached out her hand and enclosed it in her grasp. 

“So many people died here. It’s estimated that over 1 million people were killed within the confines of this fence. Hangings, shootings, gas chambers, starvation, dehydration, illness. Some people were even experimented on. It never ended.” Without looking at his face, she reached down and grabbed James’ hand, pulling him to the fence. He followed her actions and grabbed hold of the wire beside her, as if it were a talisman into another world. 

“When people got off of the train, they had no idea what was waiting for them.” He felt as if he could see the scene she laid out for him. People hurried into the camp, trying to keep hold of each other, and failing. “They had been sent away from their homes and upon arrival were stripped of all of their belongings and clothing. Then, they were shaved and branded, like animals. It was like losing their dignity one moment after the other.” There was an emotion on Lily’s face, like she was seeing the same scene, a movie that neither of them wanted to watch, and it hurt him to see her like that. “Families were separated, many of whom were never able to reunite again.” She looked up into his eyes. “If ever I were allowed to forget about history, erase something completely from the world, it would be this. I can’t imagine being part of a race that undertook the killing of so many people simply because of who they were, what they believed, how they were born. They had no judge, no jury, no verdict. They were sentenced to death the moment they were born.”

James took a moment, listening to his fiance speak, to look at the world around him. He could hear them, then. The voices. The screams, the soft singing, the moaning, swirling around him like the fall leaves. It was haunting. He was beginning to understand and feel the gravity of this world that Lily had brought him to. 

“I never really understood what it meant to kill people needlessly until I came here. So much of muggle history is ignored by the wizarding world because it is seen as lesser or not as important, and it isn’t right. Their history is our history.” Lily said. “Museums and memorials are all fine and dandy, but they only tell stories. This place holds lives. Experiences. Torment. Regret. Hatred. Love. It’s so much more than words on a page. It’s like a piece of the world, stuck in time, replaying the same horrible movie over and over again, until human beings don’t need to see it anymore.” 

And James could feel it. He felt the pain and sorrow that seemed to seep out of the dirt. 

“Why did you bring me here, Lily?”

She turned and grabbed his other hand. “Because I need you to understand, even just for a moment, what this war is going to mean. To all of us. To everyone. It’s not a game, or exciting missions, it’s not something to sit around and joke about. It’s going to be earth shattering. Voldemort is doing to the wizarding world what the Nazis did to the Jewish world, the Polish world, the Austrian world. He is going to take every opportunity he can to steal the chances of millions of innocent people. MY people. Mudbloods.” She had tears in her eyes as she explained her reasoning, her emotions bubbling to the surface. 

“Pureblood families will never understand the chains that come with being muggleborn. We face oppression for something that we have no choice over. People are killing us because of how we come into the world. That is what this war is about. No about being a hero, not about bravery or courage. It’s about people believing that some are better, more elite, more important than others. It’s not a war for the sake of fighting, it’s a war on the existence of people who are different. 

“So if you’re going to fight in this war, you need to understand what you’re fighting for. It’s going to be for muggles, who have no idea what is going on. It’s going to be for mudbloods, who had no choice in their heritage. It’s for people who cannot stand and fight for themselves. That’s why we’re fighting, James.”

She grabbed on to both sides of his face, as if to emphasize her point. “I love you. I love how brave and kind you are, how willing you are to risk your life for people. I’ve always admired that quality in you.” He tried to hold his tears in at her confession, wondering how he could ever convey his sorrow or his fear about what was happening. He was terrified. And Lily knew that. But she didn’t care. She needed him to be brave. “And I am asking you to stay that brave. Because these missions aren’t always going to end in a comfortable circle, full of jokes and laughter. People are going to die. People we know and love are going to die. It’s going to happen.

“I’m fighting in this war because I cannot let what happened here happen to anyone else ever again. I’m fighting because I want our children to grow up in a world where they won’t be judged by the purity of their blood. By ideals that separate good people from each other. I can’t, James. I will bend over backwards if it means giving anyone who has ever felt like me the chance to feel accepted and normal and loved, despite their parentage. If my legacy is dying for people like the ones who lost their lives here, then I will die proudly.”

He gave a sad laugh and pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed into his embrace. Her hand rubbed gentle, soothing circles against his back and she tried to compose herself once more. 

“The world doesn’t need anymore of this hate, James. It doesn’t need another Auschwitz. It needs freedom, light, understanding, love. It needs you. Because you are all of those things.” He was crying in earnest and was glad that her head was buried against his chest. “It’s our responsibility to fix the world now, because no one else will. I can’t let this happen to anyone, ever again.”

“It won’t Lils. This will never happen again. I promise.”

And they stood together, arms wrapped around each other, beside the wire fence in Auschwitz, hoping that they would see a better world then the one they had been given. And the fall air, holding the memory of millions of people who had lost their lives, settled around them. The echo of screams on the wind faded slowly into nothing. 

((This felt very fitting, considering the political climate of the world as of now. If you believe in something, you fight for it. We are the ones who have to remember, we’re the ones that are responsible for fighting. I wish it wasn’t that way, but here we are. So stand up, be honest, and make sure the world we are creating for our children won’t ever look like the one our parents have given to us))

[whispersafterdusk]

Lost in Time - ch 19

"I'm sorry - I'm not usually forgetful, I'm just dumb today."

About halfway through his patrol Asher had the realization that Eli's story comment DID make sense -- she'd explained her religious beliefs at the memorial service weeks ago, which seemed to revolve around the idea of everyone being born with a story to tell.  He was there, he'd heard it, and he was kicking himself for forgetting it.

Across the table Eli shrugged.  "We're both running on zero sleep and had more important things to focus on, it's not a big deal.  I can still explain it all again or more in-depth if you're curious."

The Round Table was mostly empty; they were a bit early for the lunch rush.  A headache was starting behind Asher's left eye so he was glad it was quiet in here.   "Only if you feel up to it. I'm still really sorry."

"I don't mind.  So, like I mentioned before-"

She abruptly stopped and Asher could see her eyes flick over his shoulder toward the door so he shifted enough to peer behind him.  Harrison had just come in and he had a girl following along behind him; Asher had seen her around town a lot lately. ((Continued below cut))

Eli watched the two of them for a moment then turned her attention back to him.  "Well, that's a good reminder that I need to stop by the clinic for another bottle of aspirin."

"Man, I could use one of those at the moment," Asher sighed.  "I've stayed awake way longer than this but it doesn't mean it's easy on the body."

She nodded, then abruptly stood.  "Actually, be right back."

As she headed over to where Harrison and the girl were seating themselves at a booth Asher shifted again to give himself a full view of the room; it wasn't that he expected their suspect to waltz in through the door but knowing there was someone out there lurking with bad intentions had his paranoia cranked to the max, and no matter how farfetched a scenario may seem he felt he shouldn't ignore anything his brain spat out at him.  

So he watched as Eli chatted with the two at the table briefly then came back and flopped back down in her seat; right as she returned Sonia came to the table with their food and drinks.

"What was that about?" he asked as he grabbed his fork and speared a chunk of tofu off his plate.

"Was asking Harrison to tell Dr. Xu that I won't be coming to my usual session tonight, in case I don't actually make it to the clinic today to let him know myself."

"Ah."  He stuffed the tofu in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed.  "-I hope you aren't planning on pulling another all-nighter."

She shook her head and downed half the lemonade in her glass in four huge gulps.  "-I don't PLAN on it just yet but I want my schedule open in case I have to.  Once I'm off the clock for today I'm going to help Selene get whatever transmitters she has the parts for assembled and ready to go."

"Need some help?"

Again she shook her head.   "It'd take me longer to teach you how to put it together than it would for me to do it myself.  I appreciate the offer though."

"If you...you know, need anything.  At all.  You can ask me, you know?"

She drained her glass and set it aside before finally starting in on her food.  "I know."

They both ate quickly (a little TOO quickly in Asher's case - now he had a slightly queasy stomach AND the start of a headache) and paid their respective bills before heading toward the Corps building.  As they passed the graveyard Asher could see one of the construction folks - it was the tall blonde man (that was who had designed that stone in the first place, he thought) - carefully examining the burnt surface of the tombstone.  Since it was just polished rock Asher was certain the man could grind off and re-polish it without too much trouble; he was still mad that someone had defaced the grave but in a way thankful that it would be easy to restore.  And, should the vandal decide to-

"--you know, I think we ought to post a person here for a few nights," he said as he slowed to a stop and then turned to backtrack to the graveyard's gates.

"You think whoever did it will come back that quickly?"

He nodded.  "Darren's stone and the others for your squad mates all look sort of similar - if whoever this is is purposely singling you out they might deface the rest of these and might be brave or stupid enough to come back soon."

"I'd think they'd expect us to be keeping a close eye on the place."

"They might, they might not, they might not even care. But." Asher turned to point down the hill the way they'd come and then used his finger in the air to trace along the line of a stone archway they'd walked under.  It was dotted with windows and had an old, iron-banded wooden door that was heavily padlocked; the inside area was used to store the furniture needed for festivals (he'd helped put the benches and chairs used at the memorial services away inside there).  The windows were tiny and probably a little dusty but if someone took up a position at that middle window at the top of the arch they could probably see the entire cemetery from there, and it would be hard to spot them in the dark at that height from the ground.  "If we hide someone up there, they wouldn't even know we're here."

Eli followed his hand and eyed the archway, then shrugged.  "Right, so, another all-nighter then."

"You DID say you were keeping your schedule open."

"Let's check in with Arlo and see what's what before we pencil a stakeout onto the agenda."

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

Her task today had sounded easy on the surface: cut open the flaps of seed sacks, arrange them in a wagon.  They were heavy but not so much that she couldn't carry them, but the knife she'd been given to cut the sacks open seemed little better than a butter knife -- it was good enough to cut the thread sewing the sacks shut but not sharp enough to cut into the burlap itself, which was proving to be a problem because this last sack was sewn shut too tightly for her to get the knife in under the flap, and she couldn't saw a hole in the burlap either.  She could sort of get the tip of the knife wedged in under each individual stitch and snip it loose that way but that meant cutting almost every stitch, by itself, one by one.

As she picked and struggled with the thread the barn door creaked behind her and someone's shadow fell over the floor; it was too beefy to be Sophie or Emily, and not wide enough to be McDonald.  

"I don't have time to play tag right now," she called out without turning around.

"I prefer checkers."

That was one of the answers she'd been expecting so she turned around to face the man that had walked into the barn.  He was...very muscular.   Maybe all muscle, and the only hair on his head was a black mustache that was the same width as his lips.  Lily hadn't seen him before but he definitely had to have been recruited solely for strength.

"I hope you're good at hide and seek."  A phrase meant to ask 'were you noticed or followed?'

The man shook his head, pulled a folded piece of paper out of one of the multiple pockets on his shirt and dropped it onto the floor, then disappeared out of the barn as quickly as he'd appeared.

Lily grunted and with a yank that hurt her arms all the way up to her shoulder blades finally tore the loose stitches apart and the top of the seed bag was finally open; after a moment to let the tingling in her fingers fade she hauled the bag over into the wagon with the rest of them before she retrieved the paper and looked it over.

>FR, KA, WIN - STBY >PL, des pln. PK SEC. > 385. > Markest > 3t. Har wh ws arc n

Ah, good - everything was falling into place.  There were three more operatives on standby, Harrison's family had been secured, and their escape pilots would be hiding out somewhere to the east waiting for their signal to move in and get them out.

She did have an immediate surge of annoyance though at the identity of their escape pilot: 385.  Sky Sharks.  Lily hated those damn pirates... They were paid an obscene amount of money to remain loyal to Duvos, and she knew without a doubt that if someone with deeper pockets came along then the Sharks would switch sides without even blinking.  WHY did Duvos insist on relying on them?  It was baffling, and all she could console herself with was it HAD to be more than money...it wouldn't make sense otherwise to have such a glaring weakness in their field operations.

That last line of the message indicated that a meeting was set up for tonight at the stone arch that was to the west of the harbor; this was good, as they all needed to meet face to face to identify one another, discuss any last-minute questions regarding their responsibilities and expectations, AND she needed to find out which of them had defaced the grave -- rumors had raced through town and she'd already spotted someone examining it to determine how to repair it.  If it hadn't been one of the agents sent to help then it was one hell of a coincidence...and if it HAD been one of them then she was curious about how they'd learned about Summers and how much they'd learned, and what exactly they intended to do with that knowledge.  Prior to finding those counseling records Lily hadn't really heard anything about the woman that would've pointed her out as something special -- Portians were not immune to gossip but they did seem polite enough to not include a ton of personal details and at the time none of it had seemed to be important enough to look into. Lily knew that if she'd known about Summers prior to her meeting with Xan then it was likely they'd have abandoned the plan to steal the AI and would instead be more concerned with snatching the woman.  

Was that what they were hoping to accomplish? Lily hadn't received ANY orders from Xan regarding a change in their target, and it would be a lot more finicky to try and smuggle a woman out versus mechanical parts.  It was an absolute certainty that if Xan had changed his mind on their target then she, as head of this operation, would have heard about it first... Maybe it WAS a coincidence, as impossible as it seemed.  Or maybe whoever did it thought they were...helping?  Spread the security out thin?  That was more plausible than coincidence but ran a high risk of jeopardizing the mission instead since Lily already knew Portia had called on the help of the Flying Pigs and it wouldn't be hard for them to request a few more.

No... Whatever the reasoning, it had to stop. If they got a chance to grab the woman on their way out then fine, whatever.  But she wasn't about to let this mission get sidetracked away from their ordered target -- not unless Xan himself sent her word to change the plan where she had that proof in her hand or heard it from Xan directly.

Outside the barn she heard hoof beats; quickly she stuffed the paper deep into her pocket and pretended to be fussing over the seed bags in the back of the rickety wagon.  A few moments later and both barn doors opened wide as Sophie's granddaughter came into view leading a rather large horse by a rope - it wasn't proper reins but just a simple braided leather cord hooked to one of the rings on the halter and she had the loose end wrapped around her wrist with plenty of slack in the lead for the horse to look about.

"Hey there, Lily.  I'm sorry - Granny didn't tell me you were out here doing this or else I would've come to help you."

Lily scoffed and leaned against the wagon's side.  "Oh pfft, no worries!  It was a little heavy but not that bad!  Sort of.  Do you have anything to sharpen knives here?  The one Sophie lent me turned out to be dull."

Emily led the horse in further and walked it around the wagon so it's back end was close to the wagon's front; Lily came over and handed her the knife in its little leather sheath, and Emily in turn handed her the lead so she could move between the shelves and the wagon to get a few wooden shafts and a yoke into place.  Afterward she maneuvered the horse into place and hooked everything up, then just as quickly freed the animal.

"...why'd you go through all that effort?" Lily asked as Emily started to lead the horse back towards the doors.

"Usually we use a mare named Sunny to pull the wagon but she's getting on in years.  We're switching over to this fine fellow here-" Emily patted the horse's neck with a giggle "-and he's a bit bigger than Sunny.  I wanted to make sure the yoke would still fit.  Seems there's not as big a difference in size in the places where it matters so it shouldn't rub or be uncomfortable, and it also means I don't have to try and do all the measuring in the morning when there's not a lot of light either and too little time to get another yoke down from the attic."

"Aha.  That makes sense.  ...so we're starting tomorrow morning then?"

Once Emily had the horse outside the barn, but was still framed in the doorway, she slipped the halter off and the horse ambled away out of Lily's line of sight.  "Yep!  Right at sunrise, and we should be done by lunchtime."

Ugh.  A late night meeting and now work at an unreasonable hour.  "Ok!" Lily replied, struggling to keep her usual perky cheerfulness in the tone.  "I'll see you at dawn then - hopefully I don't sleep in on accident."

"It's ok if you do but that'll just mean it'll take longer to finish."

Emily waited for Lily to leave the barn then closed the doors and slid the locking bar into place; Lily offered the woman a smile and a wave as she turned to head back into Portia but inwardly she was groaning in frustration.  If she set an alarm and went to bed now she'd get at least a little bit of sleep before the meeting.  She WAS supposed to have dinner with Harrison tonight but the naive little fool could wait -- more important things needed to come first.

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

The signal transmitter buzzed softly.  It was like having a small insect flitting around his head.

But with it sitting in the storage area with him, hooked up to a temporary power source, it covered the immediate area and would let Arlo communicate with Sam, Remington, and Mali who were all hidden nearby in the commerce guild, the Happy Apartments, and the old, closed cafe down the hill.

So far there'd been no signs of life outside; Asher had come up with this idea and he and Eli both expressed doubt that they would see anyone tonight.  Still, it was a good idea made even better by Selene suggesting they take one of the transmitters with them to temporarily let them coordinate through the Hi-Defs -- Eli and the builder had then both scrambled to get one assembled and re-wired for a power stone bracket, and they'd disguised it inside a crate that they carried into the storage area.  All that was left to do then was wait until nightfall, carefully slip inside the storage area (Arlo was certain he hadn't been seen by anyone who was, themselves, visible at the time) and then plug in the transmitter's cord to the bracket and flip it on.

The moon was bright (not full, sadly) but it was intermittently cloudy; when there wasn't cloud cover Arlo was able to see clearly through the small, smudged clean spots he'd wiped in every window in the storage area.  He did have to be careful to toss his jacket over himself each time he accessed his Hi-Def (the light from the screen would stand out in the darkness, after all) but other than that he was free to silently walk from window to window to keep an eye on the graveyard as well as the surrounding areas that he could see, and he'd been pacing in this manner for the last four hours with nothing to show for it.

'It might not be tonight,' he kept telling himself.  It might not be tonight, or tomorrow night, or even any time soon.  

But, not that long ago he and Remington had gotten the chosen security door ready for transport.  Mint estimated they could have it in place and installed within a week; with the door in place they could stop worrying about someone getting into the facility, and once they reached that point they'd be free to focus the entirety of their attention on catching their spy and vandal.  With all of that in mind the fact that they wouldn't likely catch anyone tonight was easier to swallow.

"Anyone seen anything yet?"

Remington's voice came through the Hi-Def - Arlo had the volume set to just barely above a whisper, to him.

"Not ye- Wait."

Mali's response cut off and Arlo tensed; she was stationed at the apartments -- she usually stayed there when she was in Portia so she'd appointed herself to that position because it wouldn't seem strange if she was spotted at an odd hour inside the building (though the point was, of course, for her NOT to be spotted at all). Arlo gave it several breaths, then several breaths more; the silence seemed to press in so he bent down, pulled his jacket over his head and arm, and prodded his Hi-Def awake.  "Mali?  Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine. But I just spotted our first concrete lead."

"What?  Did you see someone?"

"Not exactly. But either our guest is staying here, was visiting friends here, or Happy Apartments has a ghost problem."

Arlo's eyes narrowed -- their target was INSIDE the apartments?  How?  For how long had they been there?  "So you saw our spy."

"I heard a door open and close upstairs, and shortly thereafter the front door opened and closed on its own.  I didn't see anyone, unfortunately -- the lights in the lobby here are heavily dimmed after ten o'clock.   Whoever this was knows where to walk to avoid casting even a hint of a shadow in this light so I didn't see them pass me."

"And if you'd turned the lights on it would've been a dead giveaway." Arlo shuffled awkwardly in the dark, with his jacket still pulled over him, toward the furthest window that looked toward Peach Plaza.  As expected he didn't see anyone, or anything, with the moon behind the clouds again.  

"Should we try and pursue?  Pick up their trail?" Remington asked.

"No," both Arlo and Mali said at the same time.  Arlo waited a moment, then continued.  "We already know this person will be nearly impossible to spot in the dark, even with the moon out, and we've got clouds in the sky tonight that'll make it worse. We have a starting point.  In the morning we'll see who is staying at the apartments and go from there."

"I'll stay here and see if whoever that was returns," Mali said after a moment.  "If they do, and I can see what room they go into, we'll at least know if this person has been staying here or if someone they're working with is."

"Don't try to apprehend them without help," Arlo warned.  "We still don't know if the spy and the vandal are the same person and if they aren't we don't know which one of them is armed or how many people we may be dealing with here."

"I don't intend to because I think we stand to learn more if we wait. It might be glaringly obvious who our culprit is once we examine the occupancy, or it might not be.  Either way, we make our list of suspects and monitor them.   We'll catch our spy, our vandal, both, or more."

Arlo nodded.  "As good a plan as any.  I'm going quiet again - everyone keep their eyes peeled."

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

It was a very long walk from the apartments out to the arch.  The suit was getting a bit warm by the time she spotted the tiniest hint of a flame on the beach ahead of her; as she drew closer to the flame she could make out the silhouette of the man holding it.

He was tall and almost unnaturally thin; he had a lighter in hand and the tiny flame's light caused the surprising number of knives sheathed across his chest, hips, and thighs to glint softly in the dark.  Next to him was a skinny (but not nearly as skinny as he was) woman who had long red hair worn in a pair of braids that fell forward over her shoulders.  The muscular man who had delivered the message was there standing at the back of the group next to Evangeline and Marcus -- Evangeline was a large woman, close to the size of Marcus and the two skinny folk put together, with platinum blonde hair, and Marcus was a dark-haired man who was otherwise unremarkable in the scant glow of the lighter.

They were looking her way; the suit's chameleon abilities were still engaged but it couldn't prevent her from leaving footprints in the sand as she approached.

"Were you followed?" the muscular man asked when she came close.

"No.  The entire town is asleep.  They don't post night guards in Portia; only out at the facility itself.  That might change when construction begins." She came to a stop and turned off the suit; immediately the heat she could feel began to ease.  "Were any of YOU followed?"

They all shook their heads; it was good to see they had all  been smart about this.

"Where do we stand?" Marcus asked.

Lily unfastened the clips at her neckline and gently slid the extra ventilation slits open on the suit's helmet - the wisps of cool air that immediately filtered in were a blessing.  "Construction has been delayed - I'm not sure why.  We should consider ourselves on standby and be ready to move at a moment's notice."  Before any of them had a chance to speak further she huffed out a sigh.  "Who here defaced the grave?" The muscular man crossed his arms and lifted a single finger; she turned to glare at him.  "Stop it.  I won't have you jeopardizing this."

The man snorted loudly.  "Tell that to Xan.  He's disappointed in you - how the heck did you miss something so--"

Lily jabbed a finger toward him.  "-shut up.  Stop it.  Shut up.  At the time I spoke to Xan it wasn't known what else was here. How did he hear about Summers?"

"You really think there wouldn't be rumors like wildfire in the scholar circles?  They can't shut up about the fact we have a real, live Dubeian in our midst.  Xan wants her and to hell with the AI."

Lily narrowed her eyes.  "I don't believe you.  Xan wouldn't so drastically change things without communicating with ME first."

The man rolled his eyes.  "Shut your damn mouth, brat - you aren't special.  I got my orders from Xan's mouth and I will not and DO NOT have to listen to your whining."

Lily stalked forward until she was nearly nose to nose with the man (or as close as she could get - his forearms were thick and he was taller than she was too).  "I'M in charge until told otherwise.  If there's been a change in the plans then I need to hear from Xan directly.  If you don't like that then you're on your own, and no one here should feel like they need to stick their necks out for you."

As she spoke to turned to look at the others one by one; the red head's expression was stony so Lily wasn't sure which side she was taking on this particular argument, Evangeline seemed just as annoyed with the muscled man as Lily felt, and she couldn't get a read on Marcus or knife-man's mood -- they both had really good poker faces.

"And," she went on into the pause.  "Should you think to sell US out if you get caught...  I don't think I need to remind you what Duvos does to traitors.  I might not be able to save any of you if someone squeals but you can bet I WILL get myself out and back to base to let everyone know who botched this and got us - got YOU - caught. And whoever did will pay for it, even if you get sent to prison.  You know there's no hiding if Duvos decides they really want you gone."

An uneasy silence followed; the man covered in knives flicked the lighter closed abruptly but otherwise no one even moved.

After several tense minutes Evangeline rolled her neck; the number of pops that came from the motion prickled Lily's skin.  "All right, I says we vote.  Original plan, or switch to the new one?  Original?" Lily, Evangeline, Marcus, and the red-haired woman raised their hands.   Evangeline briefly glanced around and then nodded.  "Good enough for me.  Xan wants a change he'll have to tell us the usual way."

The muscled man opened his mouth and the man with the knives held up a hand.  "Enough.  I'M willing to trust you, because you're saying it's Xan, but they do got a point: Xan always gets word to his men through specific channels, come hell or high water.  I don't see why he'd stop doing that in this case.  If we're wrong then we're wrong but at least we got a damn AI out of it.  And it's not like the woman is like to go anywhere anytime soon."

"Thank you...?" Lily said, gesturing for the man to introduce himself.

"Windsor," came the answer.  "Franklin.  Kara."  He gestured to the muscled man and the red head in turn.  "Ain't worked with Xan before now but man's got a reputation for doing it by the book and getting shit done.  I don't like the idea of getting on his bad side by not carrying out his orders but without those orders in my hot little hand or having come directly from his face to my ears I'm not sure I want to make him mad by NOT doing what I'd been told the first time 'round."

Lily nodded to him.  "I appreciate your good sense."  She looked to Kara; her expression was just as crabby as it had been when Lily last eyed her.   Whatever the woman's exact thoughts were they were hidden behind a deep frown but at the very least she wasn't objecting to Lily's orders to stay the course.

"...all right.  Now.  Just so we're all CLEAR-" Lily went on, stressing the last word and all but spitting it at Franklin, "-our next step is simply waiting for construction to begin.   When they break ground we'll meet up again four nights later to plan out the doctor switch -- it's not going to be immediate.  Anyone in regular close contact with the doctor is likely to notice even a slight change in behavior, and there's no way Harrison is going to know every little detail about the doctor's life if he gets pressed.  When the servers and the AI are set to be moved over we'll make our move so there's only a window of a few days where the idiot has to keep up the act.  When we leave, we leave him behind, we get home, Xan lets his family loose if he did everything we told him to.  A good boy gets rewarded."

"Simple 'nuff," Windsor said.  "I like a good, clean getaway."

"Any questions?  Any issues with your cover stories we need to hammer out right now?"

Windsor shook his head.  "Just a traveling performer here, miss.  Staying over in South Block since I was led to believe the growth there would bring new audiences - since it ain't, I'm walking between there and Portia to earn enough to go home."

Lily flashed him a thumb's up and looked to Kara; finally the woman's stony expression broke into something that MIGHT have passed for a smile, if one was holding in a fart.

"Just a ruins delver," was her simple explanation.  She had a voice like cracked glass so Lily was glad she wasn't a wordy person.

After a very lengthy pause Franklin grunted.  "Fishing."

Lily sighed.  "Fishing?  That's it?"

"That's it.  I'm here to fish."

She was all but certain now that if there was a weak link in the group, it was going to be this idiot.  She looked to Marcus and Evangeline.

Marcus shrugged.  "Handy man looking for work."

"Mining - already met Dana and got a position," Evangeline said.  "Ought to be able to give a good report about what natural stuff is down there.   Never know - someone might be interested."

At that Lily reached up to slide the ventilation slits shut again, then turned the suit back on.  "Stick to your stories, stay out of trouble, and keep an eye on the clinic.  We'll meet here, same time, four days after construction starts.  Remember that."

She spun on her heel and left -- they could all figure out their own ways back to wherever they were staying and she had a long walk ahead of her to get back to her room-

...the sky was already beginning to lighten.  She didn't think the meeting had taken that long but that time spent coupled with the long walk back to town...damn it. It took about two hours to properly clean and dry the suit out after she'd worn it awhile, and with how she was currently sweating it might take even longer; if she didn't show up to the farm on time people might go looking for her, and she couldn't just leave the job half-finished or leave the suit hanging in her room and risk someone finding it.  She also didn't trust anyone she was working with to properly care for or hide it.

Where could she stash it...

There was that hot springs area that was near enough to the farm...she knew from poking around that no one seemed to use the attic in that tiny dock house.  That would have to work for now - it would take even longer to clean it later but she needed to lay low anyway, and it was less likely someone would try snooping in her room if they knew she was in it.

When she got to the dock house she picked the lock to the building and climbed to the attic; thankfully she managed to find a loose floorboard that she pried up and stuck the suit under it before putting the board back -- while she really doubted anyone would suddenly decide to come up here at least now they wouldn't immediately see the suit if they did, and who would have any reason to go digging around in the rafters?  It was risky but less so than leaving it out in the open.

As she came upon the fields she could see Emily was already outside with the horse and wagon, and there were a few others that Lily didn't recognize that were standing with her; they weren't anyone she'd seen in town before so she imagined they, like her, were hired on hands to assist.  The farm girl was talking to the others but paused and gestured, with a smile, for Lily to come join them once she noticed her crossing the empty field.  

"-and David, you'll take the cornball seeds.  Lily, I'll have you helping Tracy and Bill with the wheat, if you don't mind."

"Sure!" Lily chirped in response, looking over to the two standing on the far end of the little line of farmhands -- Tracy was an average sized, average looking brunette who seemed like she was barely awake and Bill was a tall man in ratty clothing and straw hat.  "I'm Lily - I've never planted wheat before so is there anything special I should know?"

Tracy didn't make any effort to answer but Bill shook his head with a warm smile.  "Naw.  It's easy.  I'll show you."

"All right!  Let's get to planting everyone!" Emily called out then.  She led the wagon along the rows Lily had marked out and helped one of the other farmhands in setting down the sacks of seed next to their correct markers.

Bill handed Lily a little bag attached to a length of rope and showed her to how tie it to her hip so it stayed secure but also could be removed easily by tugging on a loop in a certain way; she then filled the little bag with wheat seeds and followed along with the man as he showed her what he called the easiest and most efficient want to get the seeds into the ground.  Once she'd had her crash course in wheat planting they separated and worked in a line with each of them taking the rows to their immediate left and right.

While she was rather tired she had to admit that this wasn't all that bad, and in just a handful of hours she could go get her suit and figure out a way to sneak it back into Happy Apartments, then take a shower and crawl into bed.  She might even grab something to eat at some point...or might not.  It would depend on how exhausted she was once this field was planted.

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

"Can I ask you something?"

"Is this related to how distracted you've been all afternoon?"

Arlo grimaced.  "...yeah.  It's..."

Their walk today (Eli never had them in one place for too long when she was teaching) had taken them along the river, passed the island that housed the Haunted Cave attraction, down to the ocean shore, and now they were retracing that path at a leisurely pace.  He'd thought he'd done a decent enough job to hide the fact that his mind was anywhere but in the current moment but...well, considering that Eli was trying to teach him to absorb his surroundings and pick out all the little details in an instant, it was little wonder she'd immediately clued in to even a tiny change in his behavior.

What was bothering him was a proverbial rabbit hole he'd accidentally fallen down earlier today when he was going over their known information and current plan.

They had fourteen suspects staying in the Happy Apartments.  That was a lot of people to keep an eye on, and they'd kept EVERYONE who wasn't a native Portian on that list -- since they couldn't rule out that someone had been hiding in the wilderness prior to renting a room they'd decided against eliminating anyone immediately based on date of arrival alone.   Mali was confident that they could quickly strike people off that list and pare it down to a more manageable one, and he shared that confidence, but it had got him thinking about the general situation.

Arlo had heard and read a lot about the war between the Alliance of Free Cities and Duvos, and had also heard a lot of stories from Remington regarding the recent action at Lucien's border.  Lucien had been nearly destroyed in the war and really, it hadn't known peace long enough to truly rebuild.  It almost felt like the peace accord that Duvos had signed was only a pretense - a stalling effort to let them bide their time, build back up, and try to forcibly expand their borders again later. Portia was far to the south of Duvos so there had never been much fear over being invaded or having their resources abruptly taken from them -- all things considered, Portia had probably never been high on their priority list as there were ruins and other natural resources much closer to the Empire's border; the sink hole opening up into the remarkably well preserved medical facility had undoubtedly pushed Portia square into Duvos's sights and they clearly, desperately, wanted what was within it, and history had already shown how they went about obtaining what they wanted.

It seemed odd to make the jump from a snooping spy to a sudden declaration of war but where else would their current behavior lead?  Things were getting tense in the north and just because they had no word of Duvos gearing up to march again didn't mean they hadn't found some way to keep it hidden.  And while he knew any sort of technology in Duvos's hands was bad news it was a chilling thought to consider what it would mean if they got their hands on Stewart -- they might not be able to replicate old medical technology immediately but the knowledge was invaluable and could, in the near future, drastically cut down on recovery time for Duvos's injured soldiers while the rest of the world would have to scramble to learn what they could from those medical texts they'd found just to keep up.

How to even put all of that into words though...

"...if another war breaks out, what do you think you'll do?"

For a time Eli didn't answer; ahead of them the bridge that led over to the Haunted Cave came into view, and near it was a bald, mustached man who was struggling with the reel on his fishing pole.

"Not sure," came her answer.  They walked on another few steps before she continued.   "Fight, probably. It might sound selfish but in a way I'm glad I'm not in charge of anything or anyone anymore."

He looked over to her; her head was down, her gaze fixed on the ground just ahead of them, so he couldn't get a clear look at her face.  "Why's that?  I would've thought it would be the opposite."

She let out a huff of a laugh. "Maybe, if we were three hundred years in the past.  This isn't my world anymore.  I have no business being in charge of people - how could I order them around when I know less about this world and how it all works than they do?  Like -- imagine if you were thrown into MY time period.  How do you think you'd feel?"

"Overwhelmed," Arlo answered, momentarily surprised at how quickly the word had spilled out.  "More than a little lost, as well.  I've not really been far from Portia so the thought of being in a city where a single building holds more people than I've ever seen in my life is...a little daunting."

She nodded, lifting her head a bit to flash him a smile.  "Now try to reverse that.  Everything I knew is gone, or doesn't work or work properly, or is left like that-" she pointed way off to the west where you could just barely make out the top of a ruined building on the horizon.  "If I had access to tools and tech from my time, we would have caught this spy in a matter of days.  But I don't.  And we haven't.   And I feel like I'm flailing around trying to hold on to anything I can to sort of ground myself but...it's hard, you know?  About all I'm good for is a warm body ready to throw myself on the metaphorical fire to keep it from burning others."

"Don't say that," he interrupted, shaking his head at her.  "You're much more than that - to me, and to everyone else."

"LOGICALLY I know that," she replied.  "Emotionally though... I have my good days and my bad ones; I'm just good at keeping the mask on and rolling with it."

"Well, whatever your brain wants to tell you, if it's negative it's wrong.  You're a good friend, you're intelligent, you're tougher than anyone I've ever met," Arlo went on.  "And if there's anything I can do to help, just ask."

She chuckled quietly and stuck her hands into her pockets.  "You and Asher both have said that.  It's appreciated."

He opened his mouth to keep going but paused, as he wasn't sure what to say next.  They were even closer to the bridge now and Arlo could see the rat's nest of a tangle of fishing line that was around the mustached man's reel ahead of them.  The man noticed them coming and offered a frustrated half wave, which Arlo acknowledged with a nod.

"-so, now that I've had my daily mini mental breakdown, why are you worried about war?" she asked, voice quiet.

"...the more I think about the spy, and what they're after, and where they came from, the more I feel like another war is on the horizon," he replied after a moment to sort his thoughts out.  "And thinking about that made me think about what I would do in that situation."

She nodded, then held up a hand before he could continue; lengthening her stride she adjusted her path to head toward the man with the tangled reel.  

"Everything all right there?"  They were still far enough away that she had to almost yell for the man to hear her -- at the very least, the man wasn't within range to hear them chitchatting.

"Yeah yeah," came the shouted response - the man's tone was clearly annoyed.  "Don't buy cheap reels."

She chuckled a bit; again she adjusted herself to go back to the path they had been walking along - they still had to pass by the man but there would be a healthy distance between them.

As they drew near and then finally passed the man Arlo could hear him swearing to himself as he yanked and tugged at the tangled fishing line...but he didn't really seem to be focusing on what he was doing.  It was slightly hard to tell out of the corner of the eye and with how quick they walked by him but Arlo swore the man was trying his damnedest to watch them while looking like he wasn't paying them any attention.  Arlo resisted the urge to look back, to check if the man was openly staring, and simply walked alongside Eli until the man was far behind them.

"You saw that, right?"

He nodded.  "He was watching us."

"Any idea who that was?"

"No, I've never seen him before."

Arlo made a mental note of what the man had looked like (heavily muscled, bald, mustached) and resolved to ask Gale and Antoine if the man was one of those staying at the Happy Apartments -- he was certainly striking enough to be easily remembered.

As Portia's gates loomed ahead of them he remembered they'd been mid-conversation about Duvos and a potential war...he almost felt like he needed, and should, pick up where they'd left off, as the whole thing bothered him a bit more than he'd initially realized, but there was also a part of him that didn't want to think about it at all.  It was that same part of him that hadn't wanted to consider what "shoot to kill" entailed either.

"Eli!"

Arlo looked up sharply at the shout; Toby was running toward them with Jack and the triplets huffing along trying to keep up with him.  Beside him Eli smiled and shook her head.

"There goes the afternoon I guess.  Unless you need me for something?"

He shook his head.  "Your patrol is done, our lesson is over with, and we already did our morning training.  So far as I'm concerned you're off the clock."  He paused, looking again to where the kid was rushing toward them.  "-unless you want me to invent a task so you can avoid being dragged into whatever Toby has planned."

"Nah, it's fine.  I can handle a gaggle of kids."

Toby would be right on them within a few seconds; in those last moments of peace Arlo stepped just ahead of Eli enough to stop her, fixing her with a look.  "Take tomorrow off.  I'll have Asher cover your patrols."

She frowned.  "Arlo-"

"No, I mean it.  If you're having a rough time I'd rather have you rested and ready for action.  Relax for a day - read a book, hike, visit with someone, just do something you like."

"I LIKE being active, and exactly how much relaxation do you think I'm going to get knowing-"

She cut off her words as Toby came to a stumbling halt in front of them, panting loudly.  "Eli...Eli!  Think you can...whew...think you can help me make a bow?"

"A bow?  What for?"

After a few breaths to collect himself Toby stood upright, beaming.  "I wanna learn how to shoot it!  And then I wanna learn how to hunt!  Mom told me about this stew thingy she liked that had fried sea urchin in it but you can't get near them without them shooting their needles at you - I want to surprise her with some meat but without getting turned into a pincushion!"

Eli blinked as all that came in a rush out of the boy's mouth; Arlo had to give the kid credit -- he was at least thinking ahead rather than rushing off for once.

"Well, seems you have a plan," she replied finally.  "But it's not going to be easy to just MAKE a bow - especially not one that'll take down a target like an urchin."

"But...can we try?"

Arlo smiled a bit at the boy's earnest tone, then wagged a finger at him to grab his attention.  "Just make sure you're not shooting it at anything just for fun," he warned once the boy was looking at him.  "Don't damage any buildings or trees, and DON'T shoot it at wildlife unless you're intending to eat it."    

Toby pumped a fist into the air a few times.  "I won't, I promise!"

Finally the four other children caught up and, after a moment to collectively catch their breaths, they all headed back out through the gates with Eli in their midst.  Arlo watched them go silently; he hoped that his impromptu orders for a day off hadn't upset Eli.  Thinking back to her admitting she was looking for something to cling to, to ground herself with...at the moment, one could think that work was the only thing she was using to cope.  Would his ordering her to take a day off do more harm than good?  He certainly hoped not.

...bah.  His stomach felt a bit knotted with the uneasy feeling from contemplating another war along with concern over whether he just made Eli's life a tiny bit more difficult.  He quickly crossed the plaza and headed up the hill toward the Round Table; by the fountain up ahead he could see a small gathering of folks all watching as a skinny man juggled silvery knives.  There was a battered flat cap laying on the ground in front of him with a handful of gols glinting in the sun; the man was yet another person Arlo hadn't seen before and out of curiosity he continued passed the restaurant to stand with the rest of the onlookers as the man juggled.

From here it was difficult to tell if the knives were actually real but the man was certainly treating them as though they were.  As he watched the knives flip from one hand to the other, behind the back, under legs and around elbows Arlo had to admit the man was rather skilled, and there were "oohs" and "ahhs" and gasps from the people around them as they watched the display of flying metal.  When the man reached the end of his juggling act he caught each knife in quick succession, sheathing them in identical, repeating motions, then gave an elaborate bow to a scattering of applause.  A few folks in the crowd dropped more gols into the hat, and Arlo waited patiently until they'd dispersed before approaching the man.

"Quite a talent."

The man didn't reply at first, choosing to bend and pick up the hat and carefully deposit the gols into his pocket so he could shove the hat back onto his head.   "Yep, sure is.  Drove my mum nuts growing up - couldn't leave anything within reach or I'd end up tossing it around.  You from here?"

Arlo nodded.  "I am.  Where are you from?"

"Born in Tallsky.  Came north because my audience was bored with me and I heard South Block was getting busy.  Dunno what folks's definition of busy is but I barely make enough to buy my dinner there.  Figured I'd try my luck here to sees if I can make enough to head back home."

Again he nodded.  "I see.  South Block is a growing trade post but most people you'll find there are traveling through and rarely stay for more than a day or so."

The man snorted.  "Tell me about it.  -- say, ain't a problem hanging around performing is there?"

"So long as you keep your distance and your knives to yourself there shouldn't be an issue.  Where are you staying? South Block?"

"Sure am," the man replied.  "Hopefully I make enough to move on soon.  Bus tickets might be cheap for some but not when you're picking between a bed, a meal, or a ride."

Arlo reached into his pocket and grabbed a handful of gols; without counting them he held them out.  "Here - at the very least try to get a meal for the evening.  The Round Table has reasonable prices and great food."

The man's eyes lit up and he grabbed for the money, then quickly cleared his throat and tried to look a little more dignified as he stowed the gols away with the rest.   "Thanks, stranger.  It's appreciated."

With a curt nod Arlo spun around to head back to the Round Table, and made a mental note to walk to South Block tomorrow to get a list of motel occupants from Yeye.   They hadn't noticed a lot of foot traffic from South Block lately but a singular traveler moving between the two towns could easily be missed.

It was crowded and busy inside the Round Table; there were a few empty booths but he didn't want to take up an entire one by himself so he took the only open seat at the bar which happened to be between Remington and Adam.

He gave them both a nod and then turned to look at Adam.  "How's it going out at the facility?"

"Alls quiet.  They started digging to place the door.  Mali's out there now with Sam - I'm charged with bringing them supper when I'm done with a few errands here in town."

"You should see the thing now. It sure doesn't look as huge as it did now that it's out of that building," Remington chuckled.

Arlo huffed out a sigh.  "That was a nightmare to deal with.  Little wonder the Old World had robots to do that sort of thing - it we hadn't borrowed that winch and pulley we probably wouldn't have been able to manage disconnecting that door from the wall by ourselves."

Sonia hurried by and went to hand him a menu, seemed to do a double take and realize who he was, then stowed the menu back beneath the counter.  "Hi Arlo!  Your usual?"

"Please. With a glass of orange juice please."  He waited until she left then lowered his voice.  "Keep an eye out for a heavily muscled man, bald, with a dark mustache.  He was eying Eli and I up, and I've no idea who he is."

"Will do," Remington replied.  "-er, by the way - Selene's on the prowl.  Party planning.  Just so you aren't blindsided."

Party planning... Remington's birthday was coming up soon and they STILL hadn't had the little gathering to welcome Eli and Asher to the team.   "Got it.  We don't have time for anything extravagant sadly."

Remington wrinkled his nose.  "Man, even if we did, I don't want extravagant."

Arlo chuckled and nodded to Sonia as she sat a chilled glass of orange juice on the counter in front of him; it was cold, tangy, and satisfying, and he had to will himself not to chug it down too quickly.

He would eat, pick up a few things from Total Tools, then head back to the Civil Corps building to-

"-has Eli ever mentioned to anyone when HER birthday is?" he asked then, looking between Adam and Remington.

"I...don't think so.  Maybe to Asher?"

Arlo turned to Adam.  "Has he said anything?"

Adam shook his head.  "Not a peep, and I'm pretty sure he would have if he knew."

"Huh.  We ought to ask her tomorrow morning then," Remington said into the pause that followed.

Arlo blew out a sigh.  "I gave her tomorrow off so whoever runs into her first..."

Sonia came over with their food (Arlo had no idea when the other two had ordered but all of it came out at the same time) and all conversation was set aside in favor of stuffing food in their faces as quickly as they could before they all went their separate ways: Remington to the Corps building, Adam back out to the facility, and Arlo back toward the plaza where hopefully Mars still had his shop open and had whetstones available.

Tonight Mali and Asher would be staking out the graveyard; they were both insistent that the two of them could handle things on their own and didn't need a third.  He didn't have much choice other than to trust to their confidence but as he picked up the whetstones and was heading up the stairs toward the Corps building he wondered if he should have asked Adam if he wanted another pair of eyes tonight out at the facility.

'If he wanted help I'm sure he would have asked,' Arlo found himself thinking as he pushed the door open to the Corps building and plodded across the sitting area toward his room.

That he was free to get a full night's sleep made him feel a tad guilty but, on the other hand, the better rested he was the more attentive he'd be, and that would only help them.  Probably.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

Twelve Days of Holly, Jolly Tidings - Day 11

Disclaimers: I watched “Dash & Lily” the other day on Netflix. This story is LOOSELY based on that book and Netflix series.  I do not own “Dash and Lily” or Newsies or anything recognizable within the series.  There are occasional curse words throughout the series, nothing too horrible but there’s some. 

Catch Up Here

Monday, December 23 

Two days before Christmas found Kat curled up on her couch watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” and hugging a mug of peppermint hot chocolate in her hands. Her doorbell rang, causing her to pause the movie, getting up to answer the door. 

Pulling open the door, her eyes went wide seeing someone dressed up as a gingerbread man standing at her doorway.  “Are you Katherine Plumber?” 

Knowing this had Jack’s name written all over it, she slowly nodded. “I am. And you are?” 

Instead of answering her, the gingerbread broke out in song, singing “Holly Jolly Christmas” loudly, along with intricate dance moves and twirls. Part of Kat wanted to slam the door in its face, but a bigger part of her was secretly enjoying the singing gingerbread man. Once he finished, kneeling in front of her with his hands stretched out, she clapped for him. She paused, giving him a look. “Thank you for that absolute stunning performance.”

Pulling the gingerbread man’s hat off, she started laughing loudly seeing who was underneath. Giving her a dirty look, Albert shook his head. “Damn Jack for at least paying me to do this.” 

“Do you want to come in?” Kat asked, pushing her front door wider, allowing him to step inside. 

Albert was one of Jack’s friends that she absolutely adored - he went to college with them. Him and his fiance Finch were really good friends and they were often invited to game night at their house.  “So how much did Jack pay you to do that?” 

“You don’t want to know.” Albert shook his head, giving her a look. “Besides, he told me I had to bring this to you.” 

Holding out the green notebook, Kat took it from him with a grin. “Thank you and thank you for making my day with that song and dance.” 

“You’re welcome. Thank goodness you didn’t get any of that on film.” He grinned, putting the gingerbread man’s head back on. 

She grinned . . . little did he know that she had a Ring as a doorbell. She wouldn’t be sharing that knowledge, allowing the video to do all the talking when she shared it with Jack and Race. 

“Thanks again Albert.” She grinned, walking him to the door. “Have a great rest of your afternoon.” 

She watched him walk down the stairs before shutting the door behind her. Shaking her head, she leaned against her door, opening up the notebook. 

Happy 11th day of Christmas, Kat! 

Hope you enjoyed that performance Al put on for you. BTW, I want the footage from your Ring! 

I apologize that you’re getting the notebook late . . . . it took far too long to convince Albert to do that. I had to bring in the big guns of Finch, Race, AND Spot to get him to do it. But I hope that it made you smile. 

For today’s adventure you’re going to the tallest building in the city. Go climb your mountain, your adventures awaits . . . so get a move on!  Once you’re at the top, continue reading. 

Grabbing her warm hoodie and her coat, she grabbed her bag, tucking the notebook into it before heading out the door. She shook her head, thinking she should’ve grabbed a mug of something warm before hitting the streets. 

Stepping out of her apartment building, her eyes widened seeing the freshly fallen snow that fell overnight. At least six inches had fallen, creating a winter wonderland throughout the streets. Rubbing her hands together, she dug her gloves out, putting them on before heading towards the subway station. 

Ducking into the underground, a heater blows warm air at her before a coldness could seep into her bones.  Walking through the turnstile, she headed for the platform to wait.  She smiled hearing kids jumping and giggling as they too waited for the train to arrive.  With it being two days before Christmas, spirits were high and excitement palpable on the platform.

Skipping onto the train, she watched a little girl mimic her before taking a seat at the far end of the car.  Keeping her eye on the little girl, Kat watched her as she kept a hand on the handrail as she spun, twirling her dress, her infection giggling ringing loudly in the car.  Kat wiggled her fingers in the girl’s direction as her face lit up, eagerly shaking her hand back at Kat. 

Several stops went by before she got off the train, heading to the street level. She would never get tired of getting off the subway and seeing One World Trade Center standing in front of her. The first couple of times she saw it, she would never be ashamed to say that she cried. It was just that powerful and moving. 

Making her way to the building, she was relieved to see the area wasn’t that crowded.  She stopped at the waterfall pools to pay her respects before heading to the stunning tower.  

Walking into the lobby, she bought tickets to the Observation deck before joining the queue to the elevator.  A couple of other people were in front of her so they made quick work on getting them onto the elevator and up to the 102 floor. 

Stepping off the elevator, her eyes adjusted to the bright natural light from the big windows.  Finding an empty bench, she took a seat, taking in the scene of the big windows, the city laid out at her feet, with a 360 degree view. 

Opening the notebook, she found today’s entry before continuing to read. 

Welcome to the One World Trade Center Observation deck. It’s another favorite place of mine - there’s something about being so high in the air that you can see a full 360 degrees around you.  It’s a good place to think and draw when I’m feeling restless. 

Anyways, I wanted you to come here to look at the prettiness of the city from your perch above.  You have your stories about 9/11 just like I do but that’s not the purpose of today’s adventure. It’s just to appreciate the beauty surrounding you. 

So, spend some time reflecting on the beauty around you. Write down everything you see beautiful, no matter how little or big it is. 

Spending the next few minutes, she wrote down everything beautiful she had encountered in the last few weeks. The smile was permanent on her face as she relaxed with the sound of her pen scratching across the paper. 

She felt someone sit down at the other end of the bench but paid them no attention as she continued to write.  Clicking her pen, her eyes reread the things she wrote before moving onto Jack’s scrawl. 

I think one of the things that we all do is getting caught up in the little nuances of the day that we forget that there’s something beautiful in every day. There’s always something good in the messy world we live in. I often have to remind myself to stop and smell the roses - slow down and just enjoy the little things that are around me. 

Now, there’s a surprise for you today . . . . but it’s different from your usual surprises. In the exhibit hall, there’s a Christmas theme exhibit that you’ll want to check out. It’s actually really cool. In the exhibit, you’ll find your surprise. 

Closing the book, she reread the last paragraph, confused by Jack’s words. Knowing, not to question him, she tucked the notebook back in her bag before walking over to the exhibit hall. Walking up the ramp, her eyes widened seeing the whimsical artwork along the walls. There was a wintery scene painted with various creatures greeting her as she walked; a mix of digital artwork and paintings. 

At one point, there was a digital video that played. Watching it, she smiled, getting lost into the artwork that surrounded her. Continuing on her journey, she was stopped by a stunning painting of a woodland scene. The moon was in the corner, shedding light on the many birch trees in perfect lines.  She searched the painting for an artist's name, frowning when she didn’t see one. “Stunning painting, huh?” 

“It truly is.” She whispered, not taking her eyes off the work. “I was trying to find the artist’s name.” 

“The artist’s name is Jack Kelly.” A familiar voice said as she looked over at his shoulder at him. He had a big grin on his face as he stepped up to join her. “Surprise!” 

Her jaw dropped. “It’s stunning Jack, absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you.” He ducked his head, a blush on his cheek. “You kinda inspired it.”

Kat’s eyes furrowed, looking at her boyfriend. “How?” 

“A couple of weeks ago you were talking about going into the woods just to get away, needing somewhere to breath and escape. I went home after that and painted this.” Jack smiled. “I knew they were doing this exhibit and after the hospital mural, I was approached to submit something for this. Your idea of needing to escape and going to the woods was actually good because it fit perfectly in with this wonderland.” 

Slipping his hand in her, he squeezed it. “You’ve inspired more art of mine than you probably know. You’re a good muse.” 

She giggled, a blush crossing her face as she ducked her head.  “That’s good to know.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell you which ones.” He grinned, tugging on her hand as they made their way through the exhibit. “Let’s finish walking through. I haven’t actually seen the rest yet.”

“This is pretty cool . . . do they do this every year?” Kat asked as they stopped to look at a few more paintings. 

Jack nodded. “They’ve done it the last few years. I came last year just to scope it out.” 

She grinned, slipping her arm through the crook of his elbow as they continued their walk. Along the way, Jack pointed out little things that she wouldn’t normally see. She smiled as they finished walking through the exhibit. 

Nodding, she followed him on the elevator as they descended. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. “You alright? Something is off about you but I can’t put my finger on it.” 

“Just enjoying the Christmas feeling in the air.” He grinned. “You know it’s only two days until Christmas.” 

She giggled. “A little birdie told me that. My parents left this morning for California.” 

“Their loss and my family’s gain.” Jack shrugged, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Come on, let’s head out.” 

Leading her off the elevator, they walked out into the cooler night. Kat tugged on their linked hands, dragging him over to a bench. Sitting down, she shut her eyes, and just relaxed. “Pssst …. what are we doing?” 

Cracking open an eye, she looked at him. “You were the one that talked about taking time to enjoy the little things. So I’m doing what you said.” 

“Oh ok.” Jack grinned, reaching into his pocket to grab something before putting it on Kat’s lap. “While you’re doing that, I’m just going to make sure no one kidnaps you.” 

Feeling a weight on her lap, she opened her eyes to look down - a white box laid there. “What did you do, Kelly?”

“Me?” He asked, eyes widened. “I didn’t do anything. This is your surprise for the day.” 

Her eyes widened, picking up the much bigger box than usual. “It’s bigger than all the rest.” 

“Way to pick up on that Captain obvious.” Jack mumbled, as she reached over and back handed his shoulder. “Maybe you should open it and not hit me anymore.” 

Removing the lid, her eyes went wide seeing a bracelet inside. But she gasped as she recognized the contents on the bracelet. Attached to the bracelet were all the charms from the previous 10 days. Picking it up, she twirled it so she could see all of her little surprises. Looking up at Jack, her lips curled up in a smile. “It’s perfect, Jack. Thank you.” 

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips as he grinned. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“It’s a perfect representative of the last 11 days.” She grinned as he took it from her before attaching it to her wrist.   

“Perfect fit.” Jack twirled it so that all the charms hung from her wrist. 

Lacing her fingers with his, she gave them a squeeze. “Hey, I want to say thank you. You have completely turned around this holiday season for me. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He tugged her close, bending down and kissing her. “I hate it when you’re upset and angry and truth be told, I just wanted to do something that would make you smile. And you’ve got a family that you’ve created all on your own, outside of your physical family and they care just as much for you as you do for them.” 

Shaking her head, she looked down at their linked hands as tears crowded her eyes. “Thank you Jack.” 

“You’re welcome, Kat. I’d do anything to make you smile.” He kissed her. “Anything.” 

Standing up, he tugged her up into a standing position as she slipped her arm in the crook of his elbow.  “So I have a question for you?” 

Looking over at him as they walked, she raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” 

“Is there anything that you would change in the past eleven days?” He looked over at her, his lip between his teeth, as if he was nervous about something.

Taking a few moments to think back on the eleven days, she twitched her mouth as she thought. Jack chuckled at her face watching her. 

“Honestly, I don’t think so. You wrote so elegantly in that journal and made me think about a lot of things. You were constantly surprising me and bringing up the little details of our relationship that, honestly, I had forgotten about. It was a good trip down memory lane.” Kat grinned, shrugging. “But to answer your question, I don’t think there’s anything that I’d change.” 

Nodding, Jack grinned. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” 

“I mean . . .” Kat started, Jack quickly shaking his head. 

“You had your chance to speak your mind and you didn’t.” Jack interrupted, sticking his tongue out at her. 

Her eyes lit up as an idea hit her. “Wait, I have one thing.” 

Jack gave her a look, before nodding. “What’s that?” 

“Another favorite look of mine.” Kat’s eyes lit up and truth be told, Jack would do anything to see her face light up like that again. 

Biting his lip, he thought back on the past 5 years. “Another look . . . hmmmm.” 

“Trying to figure out which one to tell me about or the one that’s less scandalous.” Kat grinned, as they stopped at a crosswalk. 

Jack threw his head back, shaking his head. “No trying to figure out which ones I love more.” 

Crossing the street, they continued to lazily walk down the street, with no real destination in mind. Kat tilted her head towards Jack. “Got one?” 

“This outfit was the outfit you were wearing when I realized that I loved you.” Jack grinned. “We met in October and this outfit was one you wore in the middle of November. Remember when we went to clean up the woods?” 

Kat’s eyes went wide. They had volunteered with a bunch of other kids in their dorms to clean up the ravines behind their campus. “I was in ratty jeans and an old hoodie. That’s one of your favorite looks of mine?” 

“Yes, that’s one of my favorites. You had your hair tied up in a ponytail but by the end of the day, your hair was everywhere from walking in the woods. You kept telling me that you were a mess but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from you.” Jack grinned, biting his lip. “You were so drop dead sexy and you didn’t even know it.” 

A blush crossed her cheeks, as she looked over at him. “Well if I knew that was going to be in your top ten looks, I would’ve cared a bit more.” 

“The thing is, if you had known, it probably wouldn’t be in my list.” Jack quipped back grinning. “Besides, that was the first time that it hit me that I was actually in love with you.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “So how long after that did you tell me?” 

“I think like a week.” Jack chuckled. “But everyone knew I was gone over you. I am surprised that no one spilled the beans.”

Kat laughed. “Much like the last eleven days.”

“Oh I told them I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them and bury their body if they spoke a word about the last eleven days with you.” Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

She threw her head back and belly laughed. “Jack Kelly, that’s awful.” 

“I wanted to make sure those idiots didn’t ruin the surprise for you.” He defended his actions. “But there’s more to come - you’ve got one more day left.” 

Her eyes lit up at that. “Any hints?” 

“Maybe . . . . do you want to know?” Jack asked, as they stepped onto her street. 

Biting her lip, she shrugged. “If it’s going to ruin anything, no I don’t want to know. If it’s not, then sure.” 

“We’re going to one of your favorite holiday places tomorrow.” Jack grinned. “That’s your clue, do with it what you will.” 

Filing the piece of knowledge away for later, she nodded. “I’m really looking forward to it. But you know this blows anything that I got you out of the water, right?” 

“It’s not a competition, Kat.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I wouldn’t sell yourself short.” 

She paused in her step, causing her arm to be ripped from the crook of his arm. “What do you mean by that?” 

“Not uh, Kat. You’re not getting anymore from me.” He chuckled, stopping at the bottom of her apartment stairs. Giving her a look, he held out his hand. “Now I believe you have something that belongs to me.” 

Digging in her bag, she grabbed the notebook, handing it over to him. “Thank you. Be ready by eight tomorrow morning and dress warmly.” 

“Eight is awfully early, Jack.” She raised an eyebrow. 

He chuckled. “Just be ready. I’ll bring coffee and I’ll see you then. I love you.” 

Pushing onto her tiptoes, she leaned forward giving him a kiss. “I love you too and I’ll be ready.”

“Have a good night, Kat. See you in the morning.”  He stole one more kiss before he headed down the street, back to his own apartment. She watched him until she couldn’t see him anymore. Shaking her head, she let her mind reflect back on the past few hours and just laughed. Anytime she spent with Jack would never, ever be bored, that’s for sure.