#Split Time Aviator Sunglasses for Women Works | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thrushpot · 5 years ago

Text

naive

Billy Hargrove x fem reader

“what about a billy x reader fic wherein the reader is kind of naive to his flirting so after quite some time he ends up having to be really blunt and almost literally BEGS for a date” requested by anonymous.

word count: 2,454

warning(s): swearing

a/n: cutest. idea. ever. I hope I did it justice, thanks for sending a request in!!! had to repost cause I messed up

—

Safe to say that at this point Billy’s been a little frustrated.

Nothing worked for this girl.

He’s never been so conflicted over something that in his eyes seemed to be a pretty black and white thing. When he sees a girl he thinks he could have a good time with, he tells her clearly and honestly and they become putty in his hands he can play with, until he finds something new, some might say akin to how a child goes about with toys. Never just the one will satisfy him. Y/N was meant to be one of his so-called “toys” and he sought after her the day of meeting her at the pool when his shift at the Lifeguard Tower was starting.

Y/N was — she was just something else. Billy went through the plan in his head about how he’d go about pursuing her, slowly reeling her in until hook, line and sinker. But the boy has never met a girl that was in some parts a total Einstein, a real genius. For instance, she aced all her SATs, passed all her classes with flying colors, even; but she was so goddamn stupid. Billy wouldn’t even call that an exaggeration, and he wasn’t trying to be mean. He didn’t know what it was, but she couldn’t pick up what he was putting down if he wrote “I WANT TO DATE YOU” on a baseball then threw it in her face. The poor thing still always excused it as something else. As a compliment, or he’s just a real nice guy, or he’s just kidding her. Playing a joke on her because she’s so gullible.

But he wasn’t a nice guy, and he certainly does not joke around when it comes to getting what he wants. Y/N just never had a clue, and it’s almost like it backfired in his fucking face.

The first time he tried hitting on her he was doing his boring routine at work, aviators shielding his eyes from the sizzling sun, whistle around his neck paired with the little red swim trunks being the uniform. The teen saw the herd of unsatisfied desperate housewives first, deciding to take a pass on that. Also passing by Heather, who he liked to get with in the ladies’ locker room if he was really in the mood while at work, and she shot him a smile with a suggestive wave and he winked right back at her. After all, he was getting hungry for a new chase and although Heather wasn’t that, she was something at least.

Billy did his usual rounds circling the pool, making sure everything was in order before someone wasn’t watching where they were going and slammed into him.

“The hell?” Billy looks down at the source that he collided with, seeing her for the first time. She scrambles to apologize profusely, stammering about not looking where she was going and that she was “super incredibly sorry.” Billy recovers quickly, not quite hurt and thankfully neither was she. He looked her up and down and knew what he wanted right away.

“It’s alright, don’t sweat it. How are you? You okay?” Billy asks genuinely, happy to have an excuse to touch her by helping her keep balance with his hands on her bare shoulders.

“I’m fine! I’m fine, I swear. I’m just not good at being aware of my surroundings I guess,” she says sheepishly, looking down at the ground. She really did look guilty for what she had done, but he’s immedietely glad it happened, seeing as though she looked like a girl in one of his fantasies in her red one piece swimsuit.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Billy inquires, turning the charm on and keeping eye contact with her while he nibbles on his peppermint gum. She looks back up at him then actually laughs at the pet name, holding her hand out to shake.

“Y/N L/N. I went to Hawkins High, s’not like I’m new or anything.”

“Really? Cause I think I’d definetely remember a pretty face like yours,” he slowly gets closer to Y/N’s face in strides, secretly loving the height difference as she looks up at him with her innocent eyes. He notes that she even smells good, and he’s grown to hate the chlorine stench since he started working.

Y/N playfully shoos him away, laughing at him once again as if he’s a comedian or something. He doesn’t remember saying anything funny. “Whatever, man. Do you — oh wait, stupid question. I see your whistle. So you do work here, um...?”

“Billy. Billy Hargrove,” he licks his lips before taking off his sunglasses before seeing a stray piece of wet hair in her face and decides that he’s gonna go for it, as cheesy as it is, but since she can’t take the hint at the compliment he payed, he makes as much contact with her as he can get away with and gently tucks it behind her ear. She reacts with a smile before putting her hair back behind both ears, mumbling something about forgetting her scrunchie before her name is being called by a house mom from the corner.

“That’s my mom, ugh I gotta go. Nice meeting you though, Billy,” she called as she was already walking away from him.

“Hey! Hey, wait—“

Y/N was already gone. No phone number, not even the slightest hint of any plans to come in the future.

The teenage boy shrugs, knowing some days are just gonna be a swing and a miss around here.

—

Y/N becomes almost a regular at Hawkins Pool, dressed in the same daring red swimsuit and always tempting Billy with her greetings and little smiles. Sometimes he doesn’t get a chance to go over and talk because of shitty work, or a kid dives off the “No Diving” end, or eats while swimming. It can get hectic, but the lifeguard doesn’t let that stop him. Using any excuse he has to touch her (without any protests on her end) and any opportunity to compliment her on something she did or her appearance, he’s starting to feel like it’s a dud, and she’s immune to horny teenage boys sweet talk.

“Hey Y/N!”

She turns her head and sees Billy jogging up to see her. He automatically comes in for a hug, and her face warms up at the feeling of his big arms wrapping around her frame. He holds her for a second too long, then let’s her go before taking her hand and asking her to twirl for him. Y/N nearly snorts before doing as she was told, making a show of spinning not too fast while he still has his hand grasping hers.

“Beautiful,” he marvels at her aloud under his breath. Y/N scoffs once again at his words, and it seems as though that’s the only thing she ever responds with when it’s not even a joke.

“You’re joshing me, right? I just got this awkward sunburn because I fell asleep on the lawn chairs at the pool. With my arm on half of my face,” she gestures to her cheeks where her forehead is significantly darker than her chin. “It’s so humiliating especially out in public, dude,” she cracks up, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. Billy gives in and laughs along with her.

“And why is it that you go to my work everyday? Oh, right. To see my pretty face right here,” he teases, putting out the bait and waiting for her to take it.

“Oh please. Your ugly mug?”

“C’mon, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie.”

“Nah, I go cause my mom thinks it’s good for me to be active, get outta the house and all,” she answers his previous question, ignoring his banter. “Speaking of which, she left me stranded here because she had errands and I wanted to stay longer to get rid of this ugly tan, so I’m screwed.” Thank God. Finally, he has something to thank Y/N’s mother for.

“I could give you a ride, no biggie,” Billy tried hiding his excitement in portraying nonchalance, barely meeting her eyes and praying she says yes so he can spend more fucking time with her outside of stupid work.

“Would you? I really don’t wanna cause trouble, it’s just—“ he silenced her before she starts rambling again then takes ahold of her hand

“Say no more. I’ve always got your back. And hey, I scratch your back, you scratch mine?” He asks with a devilish grin, raising one brow.

“That’s what she said,” Y/N fires a shit eating grin back, and then starts heading to the parking lot of the pool. “Meet you at your flashy car!”

Billy sighs as he hangs his head in defeat before regaining his composure, calling out a confirmation before going to lock up.

—

The blonde boy still foolishly keeps his hopes up for the car ride back to her place and to fill the quiet, he asks her if she wants to play twenty questions. As much as he knows the little things about Y/N, there’s still lots of simple details he’d like to know because he’s curious.

“Uh, alright. Twenty questions sounds g—“

“Great. Do you have a boyfriend?” He rushes to interject, eager and not hiding it.

“Nope, no boyfriend.”

“And why not?”

“Woah, right to the punchline, aren’t we?”

Y/N boasted as she runs a hand through her hair and for comfort spreads out a little wider in the passengers seat.

“Well, why don’t you?” Billy grows agitated, white knuckling the steering wheel as they wait at a red light, he turns to her. She still looks on ahead at the road, only meeting his gaze for a split second before she asks him if he has any gum. “Jesus Christ. I am so tired of this,” Billy lays his head on the wheel. Y/N inspects him for making sure he’s good before repeatedly calling out his name.

“Billy.”

Nothing. He has nothing.

“Billy, seriously. It’s a fucking green light, go already!” She shakes him before he suddenly presses the gas, speeding down the road.

“What is up with you, man? What was that!”

“In my glovebox.” Billy sighs, still eyeing the road. “My gum. It’s in there,” he answers her silent bewilderment before recognizing that it isn’t important anymore, then prepares to give the most painful explanation to a girl he’s almost ever had to do. Other women he’s been with or hit on either rejected him right off the bat or got with him right off the bat, it’s never been this in between before, this awkward gray area that’s driven his mad. He doesn’t know what he’s trying so hard for anymore, maybe it’s her attention, or something else. But it’s not just one night, not anymore.

Billy recalls the directions she had given to him before all this, and he pulls up to her house at the correct address and stops the engine.

“I want to know why you don’t have a boyfriend because I think you’re great, like really great and -“

“I think you’re great too, though.” She intervenes, as if she’s challenging him once again. Billy has nothing left to do except almost literally write it out for her.

“No! Fuck, dammit. Just... will you go on a date with me? Like, together. Not as friends or whatever, but an actual date that not friends do,” he overly explains hoping that this time that covers it.

Y/N stares at him like he told her that planet earth is fucking flat, then has the audacity to mutter “I don’t understand”.

“What don’t you get here?! What could you POSSIBLY not understand this time!” He’s raising his voice, and it’s coming out all wrong, and he just doesn’t want her misinterpreting what he’s been trying to say all along.

“Billy, what I’ve been trying to say is that I don’t get why you would like me.” Y/N looks like her dog just died, defensively crossing her arms over her chest and stares at her lap.

“What?”

“Guys don’t look at me. They don’t even know I exist,” she sighs and it makes him just feel so bad.

“Sweetheart, I think they look your way, you just don’t have a clue when they do.” Billy hesitantly reaches for her hand and holds it in both of his, begging her to look at him and communicate with him.

Y/N giggles again then looks up, meeting his eyes before leaning in further and further until their lips touch. She tastes like honey and mouthwash, and she kisses like she’s so scared to but wants it so badly. He leads them, cupping her cheek and not stopping until they both need a breath. The blonde boy can’t get enough, trailing little ticklish kisses around her jaw then down her throat, now turned awkwardly to get a better angle and not caring if his car is jabbing him in the stomach while he leans further in.

“I’ve wanted you all this time,” he whispers.

Y/N whimpers quietly before turning his head to meet hers again.

“You’ve had me. I’m just, I don’t know. I don’t do this very much and I didn’t ever think a guy like you would go for me, so I—“

“Shh. It’s fine now. You’re okay. Oh and just so we’re making sure, I don’t kiss my friends like this,” Billy reassures her as she laughs and shoved him away.

“Do you wanna maybe watch a movie sometime? There’s this cool futuristic-y one that’s coming out, the main guy is really cute,” Billy rolls his eyes at her before putting a possessive arm around her and going in for more kisses. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t even come close to comparing to you. But that isn’t the point,” she trails her fingertips over his cheek softly, and he’s never felt something so soft.

“I’d love to. What a train wreck, huh? You’re just a naive little thing,” Billy runs his fingers through her hair, before she lets him know that he’s an idiot and has to get home before her parents notice the flashy car in the driveway and wonder what’s up.

“Fine. I’ll let you go. But how ‘bout this weekend, that movie?”

She nods, kissing his cheek then opens the passenger’s door to get out. His eyes never leave her figure as she skips up to her front door, then catches the kiss she playfully blows and drives off, wondering what he should wear for their movie date that Friday.

#stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy x reader #my writing #request #stranger things fanfic

430 notes · View notes

thatpizzaoverthere · 5 years ago

Text

A Motorbike, a Sprained Ankle and an Angel in a White Coat

Hi there! This is a Blackinnon modern AU that absolutely no one asked for. I am in the middle of writing another modern Au (the wedding planner one). So why did I write this one? Because I’m an idiot who likes to push boundaries. (read: lazy) I also sprained my ankle, have my leg in a plaster, am filled with painkillers, so do excuse my shitty writing (although I’m not sure if it is the painkillers, or just my inability to write.) Anyway, the story is down below.

A Motorbike, a Sprained Ankle and an Angel in a White Coat

a.k.a “Shirley, a Chipped Bone and, you know, a Doctor”

So, Sirius bought a motorbike. Does he know how to ride one? No. Does him owning a motorbike piss off his parents? Hell yes, and that was honestly the main reason he got one. He also knew chicks dig motorbikes, so what else was he supposed to do? And that is how one day, he convinced his best mate James to go with him to the shop to get a brand-new motorbike. (And the day before he tagged along with Lily and Alice to the mall to get a leather jacket and aviator sunglasses, because he was Sirius Black, and he doesn’t do things half-heartedly)

Anyway, a few contracts later, and with a few pounds less, Sirius Black walked out of the bike shop with the new love of his life, a motorbike he named Shirley. He offered to give James a ride home, but James laughed him off and said he would rather wait an hour for the Tube than get on that death machine. It wasn’t that he was afraid of the bike, but this was Sirius, and he wasn’t exactly the most careful driver. On top of that, as Sirius had explained, motorbikes were supposed to be driven recklessly.

(Remus’ vein nearly popped out of his head when Sirius explained his theory).

Months have passed, and despite the bet going around when Sirius is going to injure himself (with Lily’s 3 days being the shortest time, to James having the most faith in him and giving him 3 months), Sirius and Shirley were inseparable, and most importantly, not one nor the other received a scratch or worse.

That is, until James birthday.

It was supposed to be a small affair, with just Peter, Alice and Frank, Remus and his new girlfriend Dorcas, and James and Lily in their new flat. Sirius was of course, late (fashionably, as he called it). But it really wasn’t his fault. He cursed at the audacity of the rain to be falling just as he was supposed to drive to the flat. He hated wearing a helmet, arguing that it ruined his hair and bad boy persona.

(For that comment alone, Remus already ordered a wreath to put on Sirius’ grave.)

But the rain wouldn’t stop, so Sirius begrudgingly put a helmet on and rode to James’ flat. On his way, some lunatic nearly ran into him, and he nearly ran over some bloke who darted in front of him. He arrived pissed at the rain and the idiots in traffic, until he got off his motorbike and realized he forgot James’ present. On top of it all, he took of his helmet and his hair was a mess. Frustrated, he let out a groan and kicked his bike. It was a split second after the kick that he realized he forgot to put his bike on her stand, and so Shirley got her revenge by falling directly on her owner. Sirius didn’t know whether to cry or curse at the universe. His right leg and arm were under the bike, and try as he might, he couldn’t get the bike off him. Using his left hand, he dug out his phone from his jacket pocket and rang James.

“Mate, did you already forget where we live? You were here literally yesterday”

“Piss off Prongs”

“Ow Padfoot. Is this the way to talk to your best friend, and on his birthday no less?”

“James, I do not have time for your drama”

“Look who’s talking”

“I am so not in the mood Potter, so could you just come down?”

“Sirius, what happened?”

“What happened? Oh, I’ll tell you what happened. I was getting ready to drive here, when this stupid rain started pouring, so I had to put on a helmet, and as I was on my way here, suddenly everyone decided to disregard traffic rules. To top it off, I forgot your present, so I kicked Shirley, and here I am now, paying for being mean to her, being squashed under her”

“You forgot my present?”

“Is that really all you heard from what I just said, and not the part of me being squashed under 400 lb of metal and plastic?”

“I heard you, dickhead, we’re coming down”Sirius sighed and waited. Shortly after he saw the building’s door being opened and heard his mates laughing when they saw him. He gave them his most murderous look and hissed “Get me out of here”.

“No problem mate, just let me take one quick photo” said James, snapping potential blackmail material, before lifting the bike with Frank.

“If this ends on any social media, I will murder you” threatened Sirius as Remus hoisted him up. James laughed at him, putting Shirley on her stand. Just as Sirius made a step towards the flat, a jolt of pain spread from his ankle and he found himself on the floor once more. He looked at his right foot and saw his ankle doubled in size.

“Why do all my birthdays end with one of us ending up in the ER?” asked James when he saw Sirius’ foot.

“Because you’re all idiots who don’t know boundaries” replied Lily, fiddling with her car keys.

“Uncalled for Evans. Besides, there’s no need for me to go to th-” was all he was able to utter before Peter prodded his ankle and another jolt of pain spread. .

“Don’t know mate, looks pretty bad to me” said the pudgy man.

Remus lifted Sirius once more, and with Peter’s help, got him into Lily’s car.

“Sorry we had to cut the party so short, but mum would kill me if she heard I didn’t take this wanker to the hospital” said James, entering the car “Feel free to join us. There’s a pub across the hospital, called The Three Broomsticks, and we’ll join you after we sort him out”

“Ok, see you there” “Sure” relied Dorcas, Remus, Peter, Alice and Frank before pilin into Peter’s van, and driving towards the hospital after Lily’s car.

The drive to the hospital was relatively short, and soon Sirius found himself seated in an uncomfortable orange chair with James beside him, while Lily left to give his details to the nurse. He looked at the clock and saw it was 11:27. Sirius didn’t like hospitals. Although, who did. They were too clean for Sirius’ liking. James had beaten one level on Gardenscapes on his phone when Lily returned. “The doctor is currently in the OR, and when they get back, they’ll take a look at you” she said, sitting next to James. And so, they waited.

Half an hour later, a nurse approached them. “Mr Black? The doctor will see you now. Take him to exam room 1”. James supported him as he hopped on one foot to the room and helped him sit on the exam bed. “Well mate, see you when you’re done” said James and exited the room, leaving Sirius to wait some more alone.

He heard the doctor before he saw her. “Apologies for waiting Mr Black, but there was an urgent appendectomy, but I’m all yours now” she said, removing her surgical mask and giving him a small smile. Sirius sucked in a small breath. Fuck. She had a beautiful smile, showing a hint of pearly white teeth, before she turned her back on him. He could see strands of blonde hair escaping her scrub cap. “So, Mr Black” she said while opening his file on her computer “what brings you here today?”

Here’s another thing: Sirius Black knows his way around women. His good looks partnered with his natural charisma worked like magnets, and he prided himself on his ability to woo women.. He was especially proud of knowing exactly what to say to them. So imagine his distress when he found himself at loss for words in front of his doctor. And it wasn’t like he actually wanted or needed to woo her; she was trying to give him proper medical care. “Mr Black?” she asked after a few seconds of Sirius just staring blankly at her.

“Right, yes. Sorry. Bit dazed. Erm…” What the fuck was he supposed to say to her? Well doc, my bike fell on me because I’m a massive idiot just didn’t sound right. But what good was lying to a doctor? “I own a motorbike” was all he was able to mutter, mentally facepalming himself for his stupidity. “So, were you involved in an accident?” she questioned further. He was a proper git. Good thing James wasn’t here, or else he’d never hear the end of it. “No, there was no accident” he said after some time, but couldn’t for the love of God elaborate further. The doctor frowned and fetched a small flashlight from her desk. “I’m going to check if you had perhaps suffered a concussion” she explained, pointing the flashlight in his right eye “Have you experienced any head trauma, like hitting yourself on the head or being hit by something?”

He blinked at the surge of light, and averted his gaze “No doctor, I just… I did fall, but I haven’t hit my head. The only thing that hurts is my ankle” And my pride. The doctor crouched and surveyed the ankle. “I’m going to touch you around this area, and I need you to tell me where it hurts and how much” she said, and started investigating the swollen area. Seconds passed in the exam room, as the doctor pressed on various areas around his ankle and Sirius letting out ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ when she would reach particularly sensitive spots. After a while, she returned to her computer typing away her diagnosis and explaining it to Sirius “Personally, I believe you only sprained your ankle, but just to make sure, I would like to do an X-ray”

“Yes, doctor” replied Sirius. “I’ll tell the nurses to bring in a wheelchair, so you don’t have to hop all the way to the radiology room” she said, signalling to the nurse, who wheeled him out of the exam room. Sirius saw James braiding Lily’s hair, still seated on those awful orange chairs. “Hey Sirius, what did the doctor say?” asked Lily. “They have to do an X-ray scan, and then we’ll see.”

The X-ray was done in less than 5 minutes, and Sirius found himself in the exam room once again, mentally preparing himself not to make a fool of himself in front of the doctor. She walked in again, but this time she switched her green scrubs for a classic doctor’s white coat. “Just one question Mr Black: do you do sports?” she asked him, turning her face from her computer towards him. Her eyes were blue “Well, sometimes I play football with my mates. Occasionally do a bit of running here and there” answered Sirius, as the doctor turned her face back to the computer and typed something in. “Here’s the thing Mr Black” she began, turning her monitor towards Sirius. He could see an X-ray scan of his ankle. “As I assumed, you sprained your ankle. But there is this little thing over here” she said, pointing to a spot on the scan “This over here is a bone piece that shouldn’t be here. I suspect it must’ve broken from your talus bone, which can sometimes chip, in occasions such as running on uneven terrain”

“Wouldn’t I have realized I have a broken bone? I felt no pain before today” said Sirius, which prompted a laugh from the doctor. “Yes, well, sometimes when such small pieces chip, they don’t really cause much harm, and tend to mend again with the bone on their own. This one probably would’ve done the same, but it appears that your accident today sprained your ankle, moved the chipped bone and caused a bit more pain than a usual sprain.” she explained, and turned the monitor back to herself. “So, here is what we’re going to do. We’ll put your ankle in a plaster for about 3 weeks, and then you’ll come in for a check-up and a scan, and then we’ll determine whether you’ll need a plaster again or not.”

“Yes doctor, thank you”

“Now, I’ll wheel you to the plaster room, they’ll put it on and you’re good to go”

She led him through the other doors, into another hallway rather than the waiting room where Lily and James were. She knocked on the doors to the plaster room, and a burly nurse opened. “Hey Jack, I’m gonna need a plaster on his right ankle, up to the knee, without the heel”

“Sure thing doc, we’ll be done in a sec” said the nurse and grabbed the bandages. The doctor helped Sirius from the wheelchair and sat him on the bed. She grabbed his ankle and positioned it under right angle. Sirius suppressed a yelp as she offered a sympathetic smile “I’m sorry Mr Black, I know it hurts, but it has to be this way, so it heals properly” “Yeah yeah, I understand, but one thing. Please don’t call me Mr Black, it makes me feel way too old. My name is Sirius” This elicited a laugh from her, and Sirius couldn’t help but smile along, forgetting the pain for a second. “Understood, Sirius” The nurse returned and put Sirius’ leg in plaster, under the doctor’s watchful eye. When he finished, he helped Sirius to his wheelchair. “Thanks Mark, see you later” said the doctor, wheeling Sirius out and through a hallway.

“You’ll pick up your papers from the nurse who you spoke to when you came in. Bring those papers to your check-up, and in the meantime, don’t use your foot at all. You are to rest, understood?” she applied a stern voice, but Sirius could see she was smiling. “Yes ma’am” he replied, intentionally not using her title to tease her. She stopped and stood in front him. She narrowed her eyes at him, realizing he was messing with her. “It’s doctor, not ma’am. I didn’t go to med school for 6 years to be called ma’am” “Understood, doctor” he answered, giving her a dose of puppy eyes. She rolled her eyes at him and continued to drive him. “Just teasing you, they say joking helps to alleviate the pain”

“True, but how wise is it to tease a doctor: a person that knows how to kill and make it look like an accident?

”Sirius looked at her incredulously, and she laughed at him “What? Joking alleviates the pain”

“Touché doctor. Well, I guess that postpones Shirley’s and my road trip”

“I’m sure your girlfriend will understand, Sirius”

“Oh, Shirley’s not my girlfriend. She’s my motorbike”

“You named your motorbike?”

“What did we say about teasing doctor?”

“Not teasing, just curious. Besides, what would you do if I were teasing you? Hop after me until I apologize?”

Sirius looked at her, dramatically clutching his chest, feigning being insulted. He called after a nurse who was passing them by “Excuse me, nurse? Yeah, I would like a new doctor. This one is hurting my feelings” he explained. The nurse looked from him up to the doctor, who waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t mind him Keisha, he had a concussion when he fell from his motorbike and is talking nonsense” said the doctor and wheeled him away from the nurse.

“Oy, I didn’t fell from a motorbike”

“Yeah, but now she thinks you did.”

“You are a cruel woman, doctor”

“Well, it’s what you get for calling me ma’am”

Sirius laughed just as they rounded the corner and found themselves in the waiting room where Lily and James were still waiting. They rose towards him and the doctor, James snapping a photo of him in wheelchairs. “Mate, stop it, or I swear they’ll be putting your hand in a plaster next” “Sure thing Padfoot, but you’ll have to catch me first, and I don’t really think you’re in the position to do that” replied James, and Lily swatted him on his arm “James, don’t be a dick, can’t you see your friend is suffering?” “Yes James, can’t you see I’m suffering?” said Sirius smugly, but Lily cut him off to continue “Suffering from embarrassment for having a motorbike fall on him because he kicked it” she finished, high-fiving James for the joke. Sirius just looked at them annoyed “I liked both of you better when you weren’t dating” “You didn’t tell me a motorbike fell on you” said the doctor, trying to stifle a laughter.

“Yeah yeah, go ahead, laugh at the idiot who got crushed by a motorbike, it’s not like I got hurt or anything”

“Yeah, but did you die?” asked the doctor, and they all outward laughed at Sirius.

“Wow doctor, I really thought we had a moment there”

“Oh Sirius, you think you have a moment with every gorgeous woman you talk to” Lily teased him

“Yeah, and why do you keep calling her doctor?” asked James.

Sirius just looked at them as if they were mad.

“Yeah, I wondered that too. At first, I thought he was being polite, then I wondered if he actually had a concussion, but when he started being his usual teasing self, I realized he has no clue who I am” said the doctor. Maybe I’m the one going mad thought Sirius. He would’ve remembered knowing someone as beautiful as her. And funny.

“Wait, we know each other?” asked Sirius

“Well, we did go to school together” replied the doctor.

Seeing that Sirius was not getting it, James decided to help him “Right mate, I’ll give you 2 hints: football and Scottish”

“And I think the lightbulb went off” said Lily, seeing the look on Sirius’ face as realization hit him.

“Oh my God, McKinnon?” asked Sirius, and the doctor laughed.

“There he goes!” exclaimed James, and clapped for him. Lily too.

“Technically, it’s doctor McKinnon. But you know, Marlene will do”

“I swear, I had no idea. I haven’t seen you in years. Where’s your accent?”

“Ugh, don’t ask. When we started going round hospitals in med school, no one understood anything I said. I even took classes to help me lose the accent”

“Sorry to interrupt your flirting, but all this with his ankle: is he ready to go?” asked James, and Marlene repeated her instructions about not moving and the check-up in 3 weeks. Lily went out to bring the car closer to the doors, and James excused himself to go the loo, which left Sirius and Marlene to wait for them.

“Where did you go after Oxford?”

“I went to Australia to do my training and residency. I was there for 2 years, but I missed home, so I came back. Been here for 2 months now.”

“And didn’t think of contacting your old friends?”

“Still doing paperwork. And I’m a doctor with ridiculous shifts. Besides, why would I contact people who forgot about me?”

“I’m really sorry Marlene”

“Don’t beat yourself over it. And I mean really don’t, you don’t need more body pieces in plaster”

“Right, I see your humour hasn’t changed”

“Hey, why fix something that’s not broken?”

“I don’t think everyone would agree”

She playfully hit him on the arm and then looked at her watch.

“Well, this is where we part. Thank you for helping me end my 14-hour shift on a bright note”

“Ugh, 14 hours, that must be rough. I suppose you can’t wait to go to sleep, knowing you”

“Trust me, med school put an end to my heavy sleeping for more than 10 hours, Besides, there are a few episodes of Musketeers waiting for me at home”

“Sounds lonely”

“I have friends. There are millions of bacteria in my body to keep me company”

“Really? Biology jokes? That’s horrible, even for your standards. But anyway, thank you Marlene. You’re an angel in a white coat.”

“So, a doctor?”

“Your jokes are terrible”

“What can I say, I’m an acquired taste”

“Come on, Hopper, let’s get you to the car” said James, wiping his hands on his pants as he returned. He helped Sirius out of the wheelchair and led him towards the door.

“I guess I’ll see you around then. Have fun guys” said Marlene and gave them a little wave, before turning around and walking towards the exam rooms.

Sirius looked after her, in a sort of daze, before James swatted him on the head. “You idiot, why did you do that for?” he asked, massaging his head.

“Because you’re looking after her like a lost puppy. Why didn’t you invite her to go with us?” James asked, giving him a bewildered look.“Was I supposed to?”

“Lily, this idiot didn’t invite her to come with us” James said to Lily, who was opening the back door of her car for Sirius.

“Are you telling me you spent time with a pretty woman, and you didn’t ask her out?” the redhead asked him, giving a same bewildered look as James.

“It’s because he has had a crush on Marlene since we were 18”

“Fuck off James”

“Language, Padfoot”

“James?”

“Yes mate?”

“Help me go after her”

“Of course, mate”

And that is how James helped Sirius hop to Marlene, who laughed at the sight of the pair, but nevertheless accepted their invitation and joined them at The Three Broomsticks, where she was greeted by her old friends and together, they celebrated James’ birthday until the wee hours of the morning.

After Sirius’ legs healed, he introduced Marlene to Shirley and took her for a ride. He even kissed her for the first time while leaning on his motorbike. This time, of course, he remembered to put the bike on its stand.

(And yes, James uses this story as a part of his best man’s speech at their wedding a few years later. He even shows photos as proof.)

#blackinnon #with a dash of jily #sirius x marlene #i love them so much #au #writing #oneshot #my babies

19 notes · View notes

docholligay · 6 years ago

Text

Aino’s 8--Chapter 5: The Cast

Please enjoy this EXTREMELY long update to Aino’s 8, sponsored by @yamadara87. I kept trying to end this and there just kept being more to say, so here we are ahaha. I hope you enjoy! 4600 words. All of Aino’s 8 is here.

Minako Aino was never nervous. How could she be? She’d been involved in dozens of heists and tricks, from the time she and Haruka had lifted bags of potato chips from the convenience store as girls (Haruka had gotten beat pretty good for that one), to the copper wiring they’d stolen out of the back of shipping containers at the docks (Haruka’d been in juvi for eight months), to the great supercar heist of 2010 (She was beginning to see why Haruka refused to work with her since then).

She leaned back in the seat, putting her feet on the dash and thoughtfully playing with the edge of her hair.

It wasn’t as if she were any stranger to prison herself. She’d been free for 6 months, in fact, and the one time that she had not managed to slip the leash had been when she had found herself in the crosshairs of Michiru Kaioh, the woman she was meeting with again today. The one Mina knew never to turn her back on, now. The only human being Mina had ever met who just might best her in the avenue of sheer con.

If she hadn’t hated Michiru so much, it might have been a turn-on.

But nervous wasn’t the word for it, because Minako Aino was never nervous, especially not when there were millions to be made on the backs of a bunch of people who had no idea what it was like to split a Cup Noodle with the girl down the hall.

Attentive. She was attentive.

Haruka stretched over to the rear view mirror and studied her tousled blonde hair, fluffing it this way and that with a look of general dissatisfaction, and straightening the collar of the turquoise and pink plaid shirt she had picked, finally, after deciding that out of all the shirts she owned, this one best reflected that she had sides to her that were not simply rough and capable, but was also sensitive and a woman of taste.

Or something like that. Mina hadn’t really been listening.

In her defense, it had been two hours and twenty shirts by that time.

“Do I look dumb?” She glanced over at Mina.

“Buddy, you don’t have to look dumb, you just exude it through your soul.”

Haruka scowled and slammed her hand down on Mina calf, dragging her feet down. “Get your feet off my dash.” She opened the dashboard and took out a wet wipe, rubbing at the dirt Mina had left.

Mina sighed. “You look fine, Haruka. Also, can we talk for a minute? This is the woman who sent me to prison, and while I’m delighted to work with her because she’s an underhanded and terrible cunt,” Haruka winced at the insult, too rough for her sensibilities, “and, admittedly, that makes us a perfect pair, but I sort of have to put my foot down about you trying to romance the sea snake.” Haruka looked at her for a moment. “You know. Beautiful. Poisonous.”

“Mina you’re the reason I’ve been to prison.”

“But in a FRIENDLY WAY, Ruka.” She crossed her arms. “Besides, I never sold you out, I just didn’t get caught and you were too good a friend to snitch on me. Which,” She touched Haruka’s arm, “I truly appreciate, you should know. Anyway, I’m nothing like her, and you should stay away from her because she’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

If Minako Aino had admitted to being nervous about anything, it was the way that Haruka looked at Michiru. It had all seemed funny, standing there in the garage with Haruka making goo-goo eyes at the pretty and exotic thing Mina had brought to her doorstep. Like an edible arrangement made of starfruit and pomelos. Haruka may not have known what she was, but she wanted her, she knew that much.

But it seemed less of a joke when Haruka was neatening herself, scrubbing carefully in the shower to try and get the smell of oil off her body, checking shirts over and over again to pick the exact right one, washing her car before they went to meet up with Michiru and Rei, polishing it until it shone like a skyscraper.

Mina had to admit to herself that she was a little nervous, if she could feel such a thing, that Michiru would hurt Haruka. Would betray her and leave her and get her thrown in jail again. Haruka had been the bruiser of their childhood gang, and she was still given to throw a punch or two when she was frustrated, but Mina had always known about the deep line of sensitivity than ran underneath it all. With a few years of therapy under her belt, she was a bit less given to spark a fight, but unfortunately it hadn’t improved her taste in women or her ability to see danger at all.

Haruka shrugged. “I’ll be fine, Mina.”

‘I’ll be fine’ was generally Haruka’s way of saying, ‘I’m done talking about this right now’ and so Mina tabled the conversation for a later date, looking out the window with a sidelong glance. She wasn’t entirely sure if Rei knew that she was going to be here, and she wasn’t certain she wanted Rei to know that she was going to be here.

The element of surprise was always thrilling. And, to that end, she had planned accordingly, in a deep blue dress that Rei would remember very well, the one she had called ‘the devil dress’ as they had stripped it off her body in that hotel in Singapore. Oh, she’d remember, and before she thought too much about how much she hated Mina she might remember how well Mina had loved her.

Haruka turned off the car and put on a pair of aviator sunglasses that Mina was sure she thought looked to be the epitome of cool.

“We should go in,” she nodded over to Mina, “We don’t want to keep them waiting.”

Mina wanted to roll her eyes and give some comment over Haruka’s need to be the most gallant of all, but she simply nodded, and opened the car door.

---

Michiru Kaioh was not given to impatience, and did not mind waiting. Oh, she knew those society girls in their power games, who made people wait for them, who thought it made them seem special that someone might. Michiru knew better. Making someone wait on you was a false sort of power, for it depended on the largesse of the waiter.

There was so much more power in waiting a perfunctory ten minutes past the appointed time, leaving, and telling your would-be companion that you simply did not have time to wait, your schedule was ever so busy. To feel their faces fall, knowing all their self-imagined importance was false, and some people truly did have better places to be.

And so Michiru had become very good at waiting, and often staked out a space fifteen minutes or better prior to any meeting. This allowed her to purchase a glass of wine a la carte and be quite finished before the late coming debutante had any chance to make a late appearance.

She had no intention of leaving today, however, and it mattered little how late the assembled parties intended to be.

Michiru examined the floral arrangement at the rear of the long, narrow room she had rented in the back of the restaurant. It was acceptable, she supposed, delicate sprays of jasmine and wide magnolias, and it would frame her face in such a way to allow everyone to know that she and Mina may be at opposite ends of the table, but hers was the head and Mina’s was the foot. Both important, but only one true leader.

She walked along the table, checking the pressed white linens and the elegant gilt changers, the polished silverware gleaming in the lights of the crystal chandelier overhead. Everything seemed according to plan, everything arranged as a set piece in the scene she would ultimately come to create and to direct.

Michiru had chosen this restaurant for a number of reasons that did not extend from the menu, however excellent and well-regarded it was. The staff were known for not only their attention to detail but their discretion, and if she told them to erase her name out of the book of reservations, or to simply say Michiru had held one of her society lunches, they would do so without hesitation.

As it turned out, she had told them it was a leadership lunch of underprivileged women she was mentoring, so it would not even need to be a lie, if only they were intelligent enough to believe it.

She smiled as she looked at the name cards set on the table. She knew better than not to seat Rei at her right hand, for fear that Rei might upend the entire assignment if she received a place she saw as beneath her, crowing about equality and round tables all the while. Ami would be somewhat down the table, attempting to stab Michiru using only the power of her own gaze and yet knowing that the two of them were bound together by complimentary skills the other could not hope to acquire.

Oh, and Mina. Sitting at the other end of the table, her back to those great wooden doors, just as she would absolutely hate. Where she would be forced to look down the table at Michiru, know that she Mina’s match and maybe her better in every way. It would throw her off guard immediately, and put her in the position of having to pretend that she was utterly unbothered. How delightful.

Her finger lingered over the card next to Mina’s, her eyes running over the elegant calligraphy. Haruka. She had told Rei dozens of times not to allow the romantic to become bound up in the occupational, and never been tempted to do so herself. But there was something about Haruka...something in her eyes, perhaps, or the way her hair stuck up at the edges like the down of a gosling. The way she smelled of oil and earth and something sweet, just beyond that, in that hazy place she could barely touch.

Michiru laughed at herself, and walked back to the end of the table where her own card sat. She was no stranger to lust, and yet here she was, acting like a teenager for the love of some mechanic. She’d simply have her brought up to the room the night before the job, and leave immediately after. No complications. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Her head turned to the sound of an opening door, and the familiar tones of a woman grumbling that she knew where she was going, and didn’t need anyone to open the door or help her, and the tell-tale ripple of a unionization brochure being shoved into a gloved hand.

“Ah, Rei,” MIchiru smiled at her as she entered the room, Rei shaking off her umbrella as she entered the room, ignoring the flecks of rainwater it threw upon the fine china, “I should have known you would be timely, you rarely disappoint in this regard.”

Rei, satisfied enough with the dryness of her umbrella, looked back to Michiru. They were a study in contrasts, Rei and Michiru. Michiru’s blouse was soft and barely shimmering silk, the trim tweed skirt etching out curves on her body, her hair in rolling curls about her face, rounded high heels pointed elegantly toward Rei. Rei had selected a boxed blazer with a rough cotton button up underneath, high waisted pants with a crisp crease at the front creating a nearly starlike effect for all the points, hair tied up in a tight bun.

It was rather a miracle of the world that they worked together as well as they did, but Michiru was not in the business of questioning any slight miracle she might have the opportunity to receive, and so allowed it to slip from her mind as a bit of lingerie to the floor.

Rei scowled at the setting.

“Did we really have to do, she gestured at the table, “all this?”

Michiru tilted her head with a bit of a smirk. “Ah yes, the indiscretions of some...bar would have been a much finer place to launch our scheme, I daresay the people coming and going, picking up snippets of our conversation here and there, would have been a marvelous choice.”

“Yeah well, people in a dive are less likely to snitch to the police,” Rei walked over to her appointed place, barely having to read the cards to know where she would be seated, “Everyone’s coming?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Michiru moved to sit at the head of the table, “or rather, not everyone is needed. The low associations at the casino hardly need be privy to our greater plans. You know what they say, Rei,” she sat down at the table, “Two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead.”

Rei’s eyebrow flicked, and Michiru felt a rise of pleasure within her. Rei was afraid of her, only the slightest, smallest bit, but afraid of her all the same, which ranked Michiru above most people that graced the planet.

Rei did not respond, but lowered, simmering, into her seat.

___

Usagi pulled at the pink dress, wobbling slightly in the high heels Michiru had purchased. She had loved both of them so well, when she had seen them in the department store, and Michiru had given a smile that seemed to signify charm when she’d done so. The dress was bright and thick and beautiful, the pattern enveloping her, like its little hearts were kissing her whole body. The heels were glossy with patent, the leather inside smooth and shaped like nothing that had ever been on Usagi’s foot.

She had felt so beautiful in the dressing room. But here, she felt foolish.

She wondered, for a moment, if they would even let her walk into a place like the restaurant, where men in jackets held doors and parked cars that Usagi didn’t know the name of, but knew she could never afford.

Usagi watched as a yellow car with a high spoiler rumbled across the lot, the driver waving off the valet and going to park it themselves, the shine from it hurting Usagi’s eyes as they passed.

She gripped her little turquoise clutch all the more tightly, and tried to gather her thoughts.

Michiru wouldn’t have invited her if she didn’t think she belonged here. Michiru was smart, and Rei was smart, and if they didn’t think she could do it they would have said so. Michiru wouldn’t have bought her all those clothes, the ones Usagi had hidden in the back of her closet, if she didn’t think Usagi was smart enough to do this.

Usagi was smart, usagi was classy, and Usagi could do all these things, and she let each beat of her heels on the pavement be an occasion for her to tell herself one more way she was going to be great at this.

The doorman did not give her a staring glance, but simply bowed as he opened the door, a simple ‘good afternoon, ma’am’ the only sign that Usagi had passed through at all, not the interrogation at the gate she had imagined, but a gentle stroll into this thickly laid world she had never imagined.

Everything looked expensive. But expensive in the way Usagi thought only really rich people could be, where you could tell it was expensive because there was so little of it. The floors were just plain marble, and there was no decoration on the deep woods that crept up the side of the walls, reaching toward the ceiling in perfect blocks, as if forests had been trimmed like grass. A woman in a clean crisp white shirt and a spotless black pencil skirt smiled at her.

“How may I help you, Miss?”

“I..” her voice faltered a bit, and then her mind swept back to Michiru, telling her to never take the power out of her voice for other people. Make them tell you that you are not enough, never do it for them.

She cleared her throat. “I’m here for the Kaioh meeting.”

Usagi gave a shift of her shoulders and a raise of her nose in what she thought might be a little too much of a show, but the woman gave her smile that might be patronizing, but at the very least, was conciliatory, and motioned for her to please follow.

Usagi tried to keep her eyes straight as they walked through the restaurant. This was practice. She had to be like Michiru, unimpressed, no matter how beautiful the dessert cart, with little metal shells over the top of each one, waiting to be revealed as the maitre’d explained each, and no matter how the crystal glasses glittered as champagne poured into them, and certainly no matter how the scents of rich women’s perfumes danced around her, each revealing something new, a dance of the seven veils for her very nose.

The woman stopped at a great wooden door and immediately opened it. MIchiru was sitting at the far end of the table, sipping a glass of something and radiating confidence and power from behind the wide expanse of mahogany. Usagi gave a sharp intake of breath, but relaxed to see Rei sitting beside her, who could be counted on to be appropriately grumpy but who could also be counted on not to let Usagi get thrown out without being forcibly ejected herself.

“Rei!” She smiled brightly and went to rush to Rei’s side before remembering herself and slowing, straightening her shoulders, “It’s so pleasant to see you.”

Michiru gave a low chuckle, and Usagi blushed heavily.

“Oh no, darling, it is precisely that sort of unpretentious effort I desire,” Michiru took a sip of the wine in front of her and smiled at Usagi, “You are absolutely perfect, just as you are.”

Michiru indicated with a wave of her hand that she was meant to sit beside Michiru, and not beside Rei. The notion filled Usagi with more than a small sense of anxiety. Michiru had been kind to her, but to be Michiru’s presence felt like being in a royal court, where there were so many rules that you could never know all of them, and messing up any one of them might lead to disaster.

She sat as delicately as she could next to Michiru, tucking her napkin into her lap and folding her hands. The waiter came into the room and swiftly stood behind her chair, handing her a cocktail menu but never making eye contact.

“Oh, she will have the bellini,” Michiru’s voice was clear and cool, “not with the house white, mind you, something with a touch more sophistication.”

Usagi didn’t know what a bellini was, but she knew she didn’t want to question Michiru’s knowledge on the subject of anything that involved this much decorum and money, and besides, Michiru hadn’t been wrong about things she might enjoy so far. No reason to fight about it.

Other than, of course, Rei being Rei.

“Why don’t you ask Usagi what she wants?” Rei said, her voice voice snapping like wire cutters through tin.

Michiru barely paid any mind to her tone, simply arched an eyebrow at Rei and shook her head.

“No I think that’s looks good!” Usagi didn’t know what it would look like to see Rei and Michiru fight, but she’d seen Rei fight with people in the noodle shop, and she felt like Michiru was a very elegant stone wall, and whatever it might look like, she didn’t want to see it.

Rei looked over the table at Usagi. ‘Oh, you didn’t even read--”

THey were all saved by the clicking open of the door, and a tiny girl? Woman? It was hard to tell, built delicate and compact, dressed as a teenager trying to seem adult, her juniors’ jacket slipping off her shoulder.

The three of them stared at her, and she stared back, and for one moment the hostess sense tension, Michiru snapping it up right before she could fully register that none of them knew this girl.

“Why, hello!” Michiru rose to her feet, “Do pardon us, we were so deep in conversation that it hardly registered that you’d entered the room and we were all quite startled for a moment.” She took the girl’s hand in hers and smiled, “Mina told me you would be coming, but I dared not hope.”

The hostess nodded and clicked out of the room on her high heels, Michiru’s eyes following her until she was out of earshot.

“I am Michiru Kaioh. This is my associate Rei, and our good mutual friend Usagi,” Rei bristled, though whether it was at being called Michiru’s associate or at MIchiru climaing to also be Usagi’s friend, Usagi wasn’t sure, “you must be the gymnast.”

The girl’s hair and eyes were so dark Usagi thought the entire room might fall into them, but after a moment of consideration, she simply returned the shake. “Hotaru Tomoe.”

Michiru nodded and indicated to a chair at the end of the table. “I am certain they will be along to collect a drink order shortly.”

Hotaru had barely sat down when a small blonde woman in a low cut velvet dress swanned through the door as if she had been in this establishment dozens of times, though there was something in her demeanor that made Usagi wonder if she wasn’t playing the same game as Usagi.

“Michiru!” She called across the room, “Rei.” She winked, and Usagi realized that she couldn’t be playing the same game (If she was, she’d been doing badly) but was just as much a part of this as Rei or Michiru.

“Mina.” MIchiru nodded toward her end of the table.

Rei glowered, arms crossed and lips tightly pressed together, looking away from Mina as if her drink was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Usagi did not know much about Rei’s employment, and never had, but she did know when Rei was mad, and she was pretty sure she could get a soft-boiled egg in four minutes or less off the steam coming from Rei’s forehead.

Behind Mina was a man, Usagi thought strangely, and then the hesitation of her movement and the soft way she ran a hand through her hair brought a blush to Usagi’s cheeks as she realized it wasn’t a man at all, but a tall, lean woman in a soft grey sweater, a pink and turquoise collar popping out at the top.

“Haruka,” She did not say this in the matter of fact way she had introduced Mina to the room, but purred richly, her voice falling like gravy around a slice of meat, “That color is terribly flattering on you. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

Haruka laid a hand on her chest and smiled. “Uh, thanks, I had it laying around--”

“Bullshit. You drug me to Dillard’s in a panic last week--”

“Minako!” She hissed, bending down to scowl into her face.

“Oh whatever,” MIna rolled her eyes and began to walk down the line of the table until her eyes fluttered to the handwritten cards at each seat. She flicked her head to look at MIchiru and worked her way back down the table, then looked at the door behind her. “Hmpf. Have it your way, Princess Grace.”

She sat down at the end of the table as Michiru smiled and arched her fingers in front of her, Haruka settling in beside her and paging through the list of cocktails.

The waiter entered quickly, bringing a small lunch menu as Michiru told him there was still one more to be seated before ordering, but drink orders, were, of course, always welcome to be taken.

He set down a glass of some white and pink drink in front of Usagi, and she could smell the peach coming off of it. Trusting Michiru had been a good idea. She looked back down the table at the two blonde women, conspiring over the menu. MIna looked up at the waiter.

“I’ll have a negroni.” She said, without a hint of worry or ceremony.

Haruka turned the page again. “I, uh, what, what do you have on tap?”

“Water, miss.” the waiter said stiffly.

“Don’t get smart, Francois.” Mina’s chipper good nature turned quickly. “Do you have a beer or not?”

He tugged at the edge of his jacket, thoroughly chastened. “No, miss, we do not.”

Usagi could not quite figure out the nature of Mina and Haruka’s relationship, and she wasn’t sure it mattered, but whatever it was, it was serious enough that she was happy to bite a waiter’s head off. Maybe Mina was the Rei, and Haruka was her Usagi. Maybe she and Usagi would be friends, then. Maybe Usagi would just come away from this with a pile of money and a pile of friends.

Ideal, really.

“There is a lovely 18 year scotch on the menu,” Michiru cooed down the table, “As your hostess, I would be happy to treat you, of course.”

Haruka ruffled her hand through her hair and tried to sit up straight. “No thanks, I don’t really drink uh, the hard stuff anymore.” She rolled her shoulders back and looked up at the waiter, jaw straight. “A hot tea with sugar will be fine, thank you.”

A woman with shaggily cut hair in a faded blue walked in behind the waiter and waved him off without so much as a question.

“Miss Mizuno.” Michiru leaned back in her chair, “So nice of you to join us. Worry not,” She laid a lunch menu in front of the last empty spot. “We haven’t been too inconvenienced by your show of self-importance.”

“You’re the one framed by flowers and crystal, Miss Kaioh.”

Everyone in the room held their breath for a moment, looking at each other nervously, but the storm seemed to pass as quickly as it had begun, and she took her seat, the quiet murmuring of people speaking to each other and themselves beginning anew.

Michiru rose to her feet.

“Ladies.” She smiled about the room, her eyes lingering on Haruka a moment, “I am so pleased to have you join me today. My name is Michiru Kaioh, and the reason you may have my full name, is that if you should try to cross me, please rest assured that I will bury you. If you doubt me, please ask Mina how she enjoyed her most recent stay in the government hotel.”

Mina raised her glass. “To the truest scorpion I know.” She slugged back a drink.

“It is irrelevant that any of us like each other. In fact, it may ultimately be helpful if we do not.” Usagi’s face fell a little as Michiru said it, “But it is of utmost important that we realize each other’s worth. You are all here, because you are a tool in the box. A hammer may be blunt, and a saw may be sharp, and a screwdriver bone-thin, but none can do the work of the others. So it is with this room.”

Mina gave a chuckle. “We’re a bunch of tools, is right.”

Michiru ignored her, simply stood behind her chair and smiled.

“This shall be the greatest gamble, with the greatest payoff, Las Vegas has ever seen.”

#Aino's 8

30 notes · View notes

amoretheiwa · 8 years ago

Text

The Dark Knight and the Boy Scout

First off, I would like to sincerely apologize. This was supposed to go up on Monday--it is now Friday, in case you haven’t noticed. It has been a busy and tiring week for me and I spent all of Monday in either airports or on planes. So, without further ado, the first part of Chapter Two.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2: Enter Last Son of Krypton A

Breanna Wayne is turning 23 years old. It has been 4 months since Batman fought the Joker. While getting to know someone new at her birthday party, the contraption the media has taken to calling the Batsignal (thanks a lot, Gordon) lights up the sky. In the name of safety, Breanna sends her guests home and dons the cowl—only to run into the Man of Steel himself just a few hours after taking care of the situation. It turns out they’re both looking for the same thing, and Breanna reluctantly agrees to work with him for just this case. This chapter and the next 2 (split up into 6 different postings) will be one story arc.

It was only four months since the Joker had appeared, but Gotham society had already bounced back from their member’s deaths; it wasn’t entirely uncommon for people to go missing or die every once in a while. For Breanna’s 23rd birthday party, she hosted a calm celebration in the form of a gala at Wayne Manor. She and Alfred pored over the guest list for over a week, making sure no one was slighted and the proper amount of media was invited as not reporting press but actual guests. It was with a grimace she acquiesced to having the recently returned Oliver Queen and the not-currently-on-parole Lex Luthor.

“If I didn’t have to keep up appearances…” she muttered under her breath. Walking in a handstand behind her butler, Breanna felt sweat slowly dripping down her back and pooling in her bra strap. Whenever he stopped to dust something she started doing a series of push-ups as quickly as possible.

“But I’m afraid you do, Mistress. Unless you’d like the police and FBI and others still after the identity of Batman to make some obscure connections.”

Breanna grunted and started moving after him as moved from one hallway table to another.

“I still don’t understand the point of Batman versus Batwoman,” she gasped.

Less than gracefully she let herself fall back into a standing position, putting a hand on her hip.

“Why does there need to be a gender? Why can’t I just be the Bat?”

Alfred spared her a wry look before continuing his chore.

“I don’t have an answer to that, but I will say that the need to assign labels that have caused this misgendering your nighttime persona has given you an inkling more safety.”

Breanna clicked her tongue and turned around.

“I’m going to hit the shower, Alfred. When I’m done if you wouldn’t mind helping me get everything laid out for tonight that would be fantastic.”

As she walked back down the hallway—this time on her feet—Alfred called after her.

“Are you wearing the blue dress or the red dress tonight?”

Breanna paused and shrugged, glancing back at him.

“The blue one, I guess.”

He nodded in reply.

The Wayne family had employed only one servant since Martha and Thomas made the decision to stop hosting society events at their family home, and that same servant still continued to be the sole long-term employee. For the sake of the upcoming gala, however, Breanna and Alfred had hired a few chefs and waiters with catering experience and an event planner—Rachael Iverson—who took care of the details Breanna didn’t care about. She did care about security, the food, and the color scheme. As cliché as it was, the heiress' favorite color was blue, the same color as her eyes, without a preference for shade.

She was lucky to have no allergies but knew some of the guests had some food allergies and after contacting each of the invitees she had compiled a list of possible refreshments and the planner took care of the rest. The party itself was relegated to the ballroom and gardens only, and the individuals hired to take care of the decorating showed up just three hours before it was to begin. By then, Breanna and Alfred had made sure that any artifacts associated with her nightlife were carefully hidden or stowed away if not already. Her hair was in a simple bun, still wet from her shower, and she ignored the water slowly dripping down onto the neckline of her t-shirt as she spoke with the dark-skinned woman in charge of the whole party when one of her few true friends attending appeared.

Ever since their first interview, Breanna had corresponded with Lois Lane regularly, exchanging information and the occasional meme as it came across their respective attention. More pen pals than the traditional friend, the two women had arranged to get ready together. Breanna politely excused herself from her conversation and turned to hug the shorter woman. For once she wasn’t in a suit, rather Lois had chosen to wear a pair of worn sweatpants and a t-shirt that had obviously seen better days. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and her own blue eyes were hidden by a pair of aviator sunglasses that Breanna commented on.

“Clark got them for me for my last birthday,” she explained.

Breanna smiled—she had heard much about Clark Kent and was excited to meet him that night—and gave Lois a quick hug.

“Come on in,” she said, gesturing up the steps of the Manor. Lois followed quickly, pulling a small suitcase behind her. Despite the risks that Alfred had repeated more than once, Breanna had impulsively invited the older woman to spend the night.

“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess, they’re about halfway done getting everything ready.”

Lois pushed her sunglass on top of her head, taking her time to look around the foyer.

“What you call a mess is still impeccable to me, Bre.”

Breanna rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Lo, come on.”

They went up the main stairs quickly and passed Alfred, who moved out of their way with a slight bow of his head.

“Breanna, Miss Lane.”

“Hi Alfred,” Lois said with a grin.

“I have your things laid out on your bed, Miss Wayne,” he said with a soft smile at his ward. Breanna grinned at him; there was something akin to happiness in her eyes that he had not seen for some time.

“Thank you, Alfred. You’re free to go whenever you like.”

He scoffed and the two women paused to stare at him.

“I am not spending my night off anywhere but my room, as there are frankly too many episodes of Downtown Abbey to catch up on.”

Breanna and Lois turned towards each and began to giggle, watching as Alfred shook his head and walked off as regally as ever.

“He’s certainly a character,” Lois quipped.

Breanna nodded and began leading the way again.

“You would not believe the snark. Sometimes I wish I could just turn him loose on the reporters instead of saying anything: no offense.”

“None taken,” Lois waved her hand.

When they reached Breanna’s spacious room Lois put her suitcase on top of the bed. She began pulling her stuff out as Breanna disappeared into the bathroom. She came out with a small hand towel pressed again the back of her neck, mouth opened as if to say something. She froze when she saw what Lois was holding. Not a dress, though she could see some dark red fabric peeking out. No, it was a large glossy picture of Batman, Gotham’s defender. Lois had an eyebrow raised and her other hand resting on her hip.

“What’s that for?” Breanna asked, recovering quickly.

“I’m not dumb, Bre, you know that. When were you going to tell me?”

Breanna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but she forced a smile.

“Tell you what? That I’m dating the Bat?” She laughed but the seriousness on Lois’ face did not go away.

“A little hard to date yourself but if that’s how you want to play it the fine.” She laid the picture down on top of Breanna’s dress and proceeded to pull out her phone from her pocket. She flicked it open and tapped the screen a few times before walking around the bed.

“You return to Gotham after a having disappeared for two years, and less than 12 months later the Bat is first seen. You never advertised this, it’s not on your Wikipedia page, but you not only have a complete bachelor’s in business management but also history, forensics, and criminal psychology of all things. It took some digging but apparently, you have received instruction from some of the top martial artists in the world, and must be proficient in at least nine different languages with the friends you have in 20 different countries.”

Lois paused, raising her eyebrow again.

“Your pictures in the tabloids and the most-used stock photos all have you looking the same, but in person it’s obvious that they’ve been touched up to take away some of your muscular definitions, and it’s a well-known secret in the makeup artist world that you wearing padding on your chest to give the illusion of having bigger boobs than you really do and you have a few scars on your shoulders that require concealer most of the time.”

Lois looked back down at her phone, scrolling a little, and Breanna collapsed in one of her armchairs that faced the room while still providing a view of her balcony.

“You have always voiced your support of the current Commissioner, James Gordon, and the Bat seems to be an ally if not a friend of his. Also, when you were targeted by the Joker a few months ago, Batman did not show up like he did at some of the other victim’s residences.”

Breanna stared at her friend with wide eyes, frozen in the silence before letting her head fall into her empty hand. She rubbed her face while the hand holding the now-wet towel clenched into a fist.

“Is it really that obvious?” she mumbled.

Lois laughed a sharp honking noise, and curled up in the other arm chair.

“Obvious? That took me close to a year to put together, and I never would have thought to except for some of the things you said in our first interview that sounded eerily similar to what others were saying when talking about Batman.”

Breanna glanced at Lois, narrowing her eyes.

Lois gave her a look that screamed “What?” and raised her shoulders.

“I’m an investigative journalist. It’s what I do.”

Breanna fell back into the chair and closed her eyes.

“I know.”

They were both silent, both thinking before Lois shifted her feet to underneath her body.

“I’m not going to tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Breanna’s eyes snapped open and Lois felt that something had shifted from the Breanna Wayne she knew to whoever this was in front of her.

“Oh? Why not? It would be the article of the century, better than anything you have ever written.”

Lois pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

“I’d never be able to write anything better, afterward, either. Besides, I think what you’re doing is important and it’s not my place.”

Breanna starred at her for a little bit longer before shoving herself out of the chair. She began to pace, half of her steps in the light from the balcony window-doors, the other half in the shadowed contrast of the wall. It was while she was in the shadow that she stopped, turning to face Lois better.

“I believe you,” she said at last, her voice serious.

Lois rolled her eyes and stood up, putting her hands on her hips again.

“I’m so glad,” she said sarcastically and walked back over to her suitcase. She carefully moved the picture of Batman—of Breanna—to the other side and continued to take out her things for the gala.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…I’m not used to having friends and with this secret I—”

Lois interrupted her.

“It hasn’t been easy making any, I imagine. Not without feeling like you’re lying to them the entire time.”

Breanna nodded and Lois stopped, her hands full of red material.

“The world needs its heroes, and some cities more than most. Gotham wouldn’t know what to do with Superman just like you wouldn’t know what to do with Metropolis. I hope this crusade of yours works out in the end. Gotham could use a little more light.”

Breanna swallowed and nodded. Lois closed her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath.

“For heaven’s sake, Breanna, look at us. You’re a vigilante, a superhero, at the age of 23 and I’m just a journalist for a newspaper at 26.”

Breanna moved to lean against the edge of her bed, smiling again.

“I wouldn’t say just a journalist. You do have a Pulitzer to your name after all.”

Lois grinned, her blue eyes sparkling and the tension that had been present gone from the room.

“I do, don’t I?”

Bre nodded.

“That’s more than Clark can say.”

Lois laughed and they began to get ready.

#dkandbs #amoretheiwa #amoretheiwa writes #the dark knight and the boy scout #superbat #breanna wayne #clark kent #lois lane #alfred pennyworth #genderbent batman #genderbending

3 notes · View notes