#The question of do I want to keep getting jerked around by a terrible company that clearly hates its fans

[storiesoflostdays]

“Do we even want Silent Hill to come back?”

Yes next question

[the-firebird69]

The max are working through you and forced our son to buy the new bike which she really kind of needs so he can get batteries for it now they're a bunch of jerks and they might try it again we have to start getting with this this is terrible you have to be able to buy a battery for a stupid bike if you buy one and aftermarket battery should work and they knew it wouldn't and they're laughing and totally it's here and the idiots here they plan to take over BG company and he went to bja and said I need protection and he said good and we have a deal and he's going to work with him on weaponry because of trump it's working now but it's not really the sturdiest thing and we have to stop these idiots and we need it too now all this stuff is going to start happening pretty soon Trump is going to die fully and the watchmen series will begin and they'll see him at Armstrong and they will wonder why anyone keeps him around he's such a jerk he's a jerk to his wife and daughters and everybody around him and he's an antisocial psychopath and they call him that too afterwards and they rest him and question him and he's sitting there seeing the same dumb things finally they start to go after him and they lay him low and it's coming up pretty quick in the television series which takes a week and a half or so or more and then it's off to the movie which takes about a week a little less and he's gone and hell breaks loose on the trumps they disappear and violently and quickly on the serious is coming up we think the video starts Monday everyone's trying to start a motorcycle company at the barn and it's kind of lame.

Tell you what he wants me to start it off now there's no reason to postpone his idea that the hard knock kicker 5150 company was the gun across the street at the Brown's house and Mac knows about it and Ken Baker they're fighting over the house and they can't get in there there's someone there and it's Betty Brown and they're fighting over starting the company back up at that location they want to make a different frame and they want our son to somehow handle a motor to put it in there and he says it's a lawn mower motor it's not very complicated it drives around the house every what 4 weeks so everybody's listening and laughing and they get it cuz that's the lawn mower engine it has gears and it would be a different bike but they can call it hard not kick her 5150 hard times model the size of the pagliani a medium sized bike or the rebel 250 Honda little bit smaller than that and it would be a bike for everybody and it would be a kit and they're saying that's pretty cool so now they have to get the lawn mower

Thor Freya

They take it out of the house on occasion they take it away from the shed and they work on it and the motor needs an overhaul and they know how to do that so Benny Brown is holding the house down and they want to try and do that cuz they tried to make the bike up there and they couldn't do it it's not working out so they're going to try and do that and motorcycles really their thing and it's going to happen now he was Norton in Britain and they're going to make it like a Norton that's how it goes and actually Randall text comment something to do with Harley-Davidson he was a messenger and world war 1 and he liked the bike a lot and he helped make the new one it's going on now and people are going to remember Randall and they're going to try and find him with the max it starts tons of stuff

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues

There's a huge number of things happening one of them is people are starting to realize that we're saying is true about this and other items and they're going to try and do it and fast

Thor Freya

I can't believe it I feel blood in my extremities and people don't want to hear it and my daughter doesn't want to hear it and for Christ's sake my fingers and toes and yeah this is hell but really I am starting to get this I'm riding the bicycle because it's the way to get there and I can't stand it on the bus we have a name for the bike and it's hard times and I think that fits there's a number for it too it's not the mental hospital now and we are going to learn the hard way if we don't remember it it's just like the watch beginning to it now

Trump

If you do this All is forgiven I can't believe how lazy you are but really this is an exciting venture it's what Bob Brown Jr did and it destroyed him because they didn't want him doing it the people who understand that to do stuff that they don't want you to do is painful this guy is worth everything in the world to them and they're torturing the s*** out of him cuz he keeps doing stuff they don't want and I mean CAA

Terry c

Olympus

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Do you think you’ll continue with the lawyer Nessian fic. It was so amazingly written I’d love to read more! I love all your writing anyways I’ll be happy with anything❤️

Ok not *technically* a Drabble request BUT I’m not ready to commit to a full lawyer AU that happens in order however I did just drum up a part 2 that we’ll say is several years before the previous lawyer AU. Nessian teasing in a bar and Rhys being a dumbass.

FYI the lawyer Drabble I’m talking about can be found HERE.

“I’m in love,” Rhys slurred. Cassian, a decent bit bigger than his brother and two drinks behind him, had a gentle buzz so he could only surmise that his brother was well passed sober.

“Congratulations,” Cassian grinned, clapping his hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “May I lay eyes upon the future Mrs. Dumbass.”

Rhys stared at him flatly. Blew a laugh out of his nose. “She’s not marrying you, brother.”

Cassian snorted, casting his eyes around the elegantly decorated little lounge they’d stepped into for the night. Lounge, not bar. Because they were mature adults now looking to take the edge off after a long day of work, not college students looking to get fucked up.

It was different.

It was different because the cocktails cost $20 and were served in actual stemware instead of red solo cups. They were evolving. Growing. Cassian was a lawyer now and Rhys was supposed to be doing actual work for his dad’s company so… no more dive bars.

Now they frequented little lounges where accountants and lawyers and bankers sat in tailored suits and discussed… adult things.

It was all very civilized.

And yet here was his brother. Every bit the horny college student they were trying not to be. Oh well, old dogs and all that.

“End of the bar.” Rhys jerked his head to the left and Cassian grinned.

“Might be a little old for you, champ.”

Rhys wrinkled his brow and turned to look at the grandmother doing a crossword puzzle on the far left side of the bar. A martini glass in front of her. Good for grandma.

“Other end of the bar!”

Cassian smirked. He didn’t need to turn his head, since he’s noticed her the second she walked in, but he still did. Just so he could look some more.

“Ah, you mean the deliciously dishevelled leggy brunette with her suit jacket on the chair beside her who just ripped the pins out of her hair like they personally offended her and then laid them in a neat little pile beside her Kobo?

“Mmm,” Rhys grinned, “I’d like her to rip those fingers through my hair.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Go for it, brother.”

Rhys grinned wider. “I think I will.” He straightened up, ran a hair through his artfully mussed hair, and pulled on the lapels of his Gucci suit jacket until they were even again.

Cassian snickered into his Old Fashioned. Rhys could straighten his jacket all he wanted. He could pretend he wasn’t drunk all he wanted. It wouldn’t matter one bit.

Not with Nesta Archeron.

Nesta Archeron who hated men that stunk of trust funds and privilege more than anything else in this world.

This would be fun to watch.

Watch her try to ignore him at first. Eyes glued to the page of her book, hand reaching up to wave through the air like Rhys was an annoying fly she could swat away.

Rhys, to his credit, was a clever little bastard. He asked the bartender for a refill of her drink and set it down in front of her then sat himself one stool down from her.

He didn’t move her jacket to sit next to her, which would have had her going feral. He just sat there, waiting.

After a few moments Nesta let out an exacerbated sigh that Cassian could hear from across the room. There was his girl.

Well, not his girl. Not even a little bit his girl, but… someday.

Cassian decided that he was going to Marry Nesta Archeron the first time she kicked his ass up and down a negotiation meeting. It was a couple years ago now. He’d been young and new at his firm. She was young and new too, but the words learning curve were not in Nesta’s vocabulary. Everything she did, she did with perfection.

Including getting rid of men she didn’t want hitting on her.

She said something to his brother that made Rhys’ half drunk, cocky, smile fall halfway down his face.

Cassian would’ve given his left eye to know what she said in that moment. She had a knack for jumping at the jugular and Rhys… oh Rhys. So obvious.

After a few moments and the continual fall of Rhys’ face, Cassian decided it was time to intervene. He knocked his drink back and straightened out his own suit jacket. Armani, still overpriced and designer but not so obvious or try hard as Mr. Up On The Trends with his Gucci. Nesta appreciated classics.

Simple. Clean lines, solid colours, classic. Which was why it was so fun just how attracted she was to his half wild self.

Unlike Rhys, Cassian plucked Nesta’s light grey suit jacket up off the stool beside her and reached over her head to hang it on a coat hook at the end of the bar. Settling himself into the chair beside her like it was exactly where he belonged. Which it was.

She turned around with an indignant shriek and a fire-breathing snarl that narrowed into just a hard glare when she realized it was him. Touching.

“This guy giving you trouble, Nes?”

Rhys choked on his whiskey and Cassian fought his hardest to keep a straight face.

“I so don’t need your saviour complex right now, Cassian.” Nesta scoffed.

“No,” Rhys rolled his eyes. “She was doing perfectly well scaring off everyone in a 10 mile radius all on her own.”

Nesta smiled sweetly, “I was just playing your game.”

Rhys sputtered again. Looked up at his brother. “This devil woman that you apparently already know,” he glared, “is all yours. I’m going home.”

“Be sure to drink plenty of water!” Nesta sing songed after him. Rhys flipped them both off on his way out.

“What’d you say to him?”

Nesta smiled. A pretty, feline little thing. “He said he wanted to chat. Suggested 20 question, which is the lamest, oldest, crustiest line in the book. So I went first. Asked just how small his dick was that he felt the need to overcompensate with the swagger and the gratuitous displays of wealth. He thought he was quite clever to use his question to ask if I wanted to check for myself how not small his dick was and then I asked if his daddy never loved him and that’s where all of that machismo masking painfully obvious and deep seeded feelings of inadequacy and insecurity came from. I was going to offer him my friend’s number before you showed up. She’s an excellent therapist.”

Cassian laughed. Hard. For a very long time. He loved Rhys, but sometimes the kid could use a nice set down. It was always sweeter when delivered by a beautiful woman. Not to mention, Cassian himself had gotten the same ice cold rejection the first time he met Nesta. When he asked if she wanted to get a coffee and she looked at him like something she’d scraped off the bottom of her shoe. That Rhys was chased off so easily just proved he couldn’t take the heat.

“You know the walking trust fund, I presume?” Nesta boredly sipped the drink Rhys had bought her. And even that was somehow amusing.

“Only for the last couple decades or so,” Cassian grinned. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“Explains a lot.”

“Your insults are more impactful when you clarify which person is being insulted.”

“I was going for the two birds one stone method.”

“In that case, consider me wounded, sweetheart.”

Nesta scoffed, “Unfortunately not mortally.”

“Oh Nesta, if I weren’t here you’d die of boredom and you know it. No one else can run you up and down the courtroom like I can.” Now. Cassian grinned as he watched the word flash across her eyes. He’d never live that first blunder down.

Nesta rose an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you present any challenge whatsoever.”

Cassian signalled for another drink and leaned forward. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who in this entire city can give you more of a run for your money?”

“Vanserra.” Nesta looked him dead in the eye. And managed to keep a straight face. As if that wasn’t the funniest fucking thing he’d heard all day.

“Oh yes, Nepotism and Nepotism LLP certainly has us all shaking in our boots,” Cassian blew out a breath. “What are you working on now?”

“I’m working on upholding attorney-client privilege.”

“So, the Suncurser merger.”

Nesta looked up. “How did you-”

“Helion and I are old friends. I checked the zoning on the lots he was buying before the merger went ahead to make sure the expansion was even feasible. But, as you know, M&A isn’t my thing. So I may have… given him a referral.”

“Are there any rich playboys in this city that you aren’t friends with?” Nesta finished off her drink and pointedly didn’t signal for another. “And if you think I’m going to be grateful to you for sending this my way you’ve got another thing-“

“Helion is my friend.” Cassian repeated, cutting her off. “He believes in this merger and he wants it done right. You’re the best, Nesta. Why wouldn’t I send him to you?”

“It’s not just to get in my pants?” She narrowed her eyes.

Cassian laughed again. “Oh no, sweetheart. When you invite me into your bed it will have nothing to do with work. It’ll be because you’re tired of denying how much you want me.” Cassian leaned in closer, one hand resting on the back of her chair. “Tired of denying the thrill that shoots through your whole body when we lay into each other. In the court room or out.” His nose brushed against hers, just a little, and Cassian felt Nesta tense up. He smirked, mouth just inches away from hers. “Tired of denying how right this is.”

Nesta’s voice was rough, husky. “So your plan is to wear me down?”

Cassian smirked. “My plan,” his hand came up to stroke the silk covered expanse of her upper arm, “is to marry you, Nesta Archeron. But sure, we can start with wearing you down.”

***Feyre and Nesta look physically similar so you can’t tell me drunk Rhys wouldn’t hit on Nesta in a bar before realizing he’d made a terrible mistake and running away thank you***

Also tags yourself, I’m the grandma doing the crossword puzzle with a martini. She’s an icon and she is the moment.

[tennessoui]

You kind of already did 31 but pleaseeeeeeee

these ficlets keep getting longer ffs this is 2k

31. One is a sex worker, the other is a client AU

anakin's had his turn as a sex worker in my writing so it's Obi-Wan this time, paired with Vaderkin and i made it more dark than I thought would happen whoops but. warnings are: probably bordering extremely dubious consent even though no sex happens and this is just the lead up. a brief reference to underage sex work, though absolutely nothing comes of it. and vaderkin being a bit creepy.

There is a saying among the workers at the Establishment: if the imperial palace calls for you, you should hope the person that is displayed next to you is prettier.

Obi-Wan has never bought into prayers of any kind and this saying is only ever said with something akin to a worshipful dread. Still, when Ahsoka drapes a cloak of red around his shoulders and whispers those words to him—“May the others be your betters”—he thinks for a second about the nature of prayer and of hope and the futility of both in this galaxy.

“Don’t worry, little ‘Soka,” he smiles from under the cloak’s hood. “I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” He is, after all, one of the oldest workers here, makes most of his money these days tending bar and running the front desk, called in to serve mostly for virgin customers who want a gentler and more experienced hand to guide them in the art of pleasure. He doesn’t think any of the words could be used to describe the Emperor Vader, can’t see the imposing black-suited man interested in the art of pleasure.

Ahsoka can’t look him in the eye, but she hugs him tightly as he boards the shuttle that will take him to the Palace.

The ride there is quiet. Obi-Wan tries to avoid as many glances from the other people as he gives to them. Most of them are young, human. He seems to be the only male above 40. His chances are good.

Maybe he hadn’t been lying to Ahsoka. Maybe, truly, his name being included on the list had been a mistake

Something inside him hesitates though. He’d been out in the Upper levels a week ago, making his way home after one of his rare appointments with an old client turned friend. A child had fallen into the path of a small parade of speeders. A correctional officer had raised a whip. Obi-Wan had reacted on instinct, catching its lash with his forearm. The child had run off. Obi-Wan had stayed. He’d raised his head just enough, eons later, to see the durasteel outside of the largest speeder pass by his prone form, just enough to see the Imperial crest on its hull. Just for long enough to see a glint of a yellow eye from the window.

Bacta had treated his wounds, but his mind had not allowed him to rest easily, caught up in the memory of that eye--had he imagined the interest? Had he imagined it all?

And so to hear his name called tonight--the first calling since The Incident--had felt like the confirmation of all of his most unfounded fears.

Would tonight be the night he died? He had lived a long life. A rough one. Perhaps it is time.

Still, in the back of his head, a selfish, utterly human part of him whispered, may the others be your betters.

---

Those chosen do, often, come back. Sometimes they do not. Mostly they do. Obi-Wan has never truly decided which of these fates is the worse one. Those who survive don’t say anything for days on end, their eyes blank as they stare forward. Their bruises, if they are there, are easy to heal. But something is always wrong with their minds afterwards. And those who don’t come back...well. It’s hard to say what happens to them, where they go. Far away or down below.

Obi-Wan is forced to his knees in between a moderately aged female Togruta and a fairly young teenager. The boy is shaking. He can’t be more than sixteen.

They’re in the Entrance Hall. Obi-Wan has never been here before, but he supposes it makes sense. There will be one person who ventures further into the Palace. The rest will be dismissed out the doors that just shut. No need to bring the scum further in than they have to.

Distantly, like a funeral drum, Obi-Wan can hear the sound of feet falling, making their way closer. Just a single pair. He wants to look up, to watch the Emperor--because it has to be the Emperor--approach, but there’s a Guard behind him, holding his head down.

The footsteps are close now. There’s only ten of them--sometimes, Obi-Wan has heard that there can be as many as twenty or thirty--so the line is short. Vader paces quietly from the first to the last person, before stopping in the middle. Obi-Wan can just see the black of his boots if he flicks his eyes as far as they can go to the left. The boy next to him lets out a muffled sob. Obi-Wan wishes he could offer the kid some sort of comfort, some sort of reassurance that the Emperor will choose one of the other workers, a body more desirable than either of theirs, but there are no words to describe the guilty relief of a suffering passed onto someone else.

On some sort of invisible signal, the Guard behind Obi-Wan wrenches his head back by the hold he has on both the silken hood and his own hair. It’s far from comfortable, tilted so far back. The message is obvious. Submission is not optional. Respect will be shown through any means necessary.

Obi-Wan tries to keep the hulking form of Vader in his eyesight, even though to see ahead of him he has to close his eyes almost completely because of the angle. It’s impossible to see anything from the chest up, but he can still hear. Loud, mechanical breathing fills the halls. Vader stops at each person for no longer than five seconds before he continues down the line. Obi-Wan holds his breath, waiting for his turn. Does he turn his head as much as he can, to try and accentuate the gray at his temples? Does he lower his eyes?

He doesn’t, in the end, do either. Vader is wearing a mask, completely covering his face. He doesn’t even look human, except for the way he cocks his head slightly as he stares down at Obi-Wan. He feels flayed, just under the single look, but he can’t turn away either. He glowers up at him. Five seconds pass. Vader should be moving on by now. The fact that he hasn’t fills Obi-Wan with the sort of fear he’s only felt a handful of times in his life.

“This one,” Vader says through a voice modulator. Obi-Wan closes his eyes in defeat, thinks of Little Ahsoka back at the Establishment, thinks of what she’ll think if he doesn’t make it home.

But the boy next to him bursts into sobs and Obi-Wan opens his eyes to see that Vader’s hand isn’t pointing to him at all, but instead just to his right.

But Vader’s face is still pointed directly at Obi-Wan though, head still cocked. The question is as clear as if he actually spoke the words aloud. What will you do about this?

What will he do? What can he do? It’s the street from a week ago all over. A child is in danger. How can Obi-Wan ever live with himself if he doesn’t at least try to throw himself on the blade?

“No!” he says before he can think it through. The Guard behind him jerks his hair back roughly in punishment, but the monster in front of him runs two gloved fingers down his cheek, the pantomime of a lover’s caress. “Me instead. Choose me.”

“Quiet,” the Guard hisses to him, making him wince with the ferocity of the yank he gives his hair. Obi-Wan pants open-mouthed as he tries to think of an argument, of a single reason why the Emperor should not get what he wants, should settle for a washed up whore instead of a younger model. All he can think of is the moral justifications of it, and he’s not sure Vader would care for that line of reasoning.

“I’m asking,” he blurts out. The fingers pause from where they’ve been absent-mindedly touching his beard. “When has anyone ever asked?”

The Emperor takes a step back and seems to consider Obi-Wan, what he has to offer. He tries to preen, to throw his shoulders back and sit back on his heels to show off his body, but it’s hard when the Guard hasn’t let up on his hair. In fact the grip gets even tighter as the man behind him snorts a common insult.

A second later, the hand and the pressure disappear. Obi-Wan falls forward automatically at his sudden release. He scrambles away instinctively, even if that means closer to Vader. Vader who has his hand raised out in front of him clenching his gloved fist tight. Obi-Wan looks behind him at the guard who had held him. The man is scrabbling at his throat. Obi-Wan knows already it will be a futile effort. With Vader distracted by his execution, he turns to check on the boy. He’s looking down, refusing to make eye contact.

Probably for the better.

The Guard falls to the floor. The other nine Guards don’t move at all. Obi-Wan supposes there’s no room for loyalty in a galaxy like this.

“Come,” Vader says, running a hand through his hair. It’s a surprisingly gentle touch, seeing as that hand just took someone else’s life.

Slowly, Obi-Wan rises to his feet and follows behind him, through the twisting halls of the Imperial Palace. He thinks anyone could get lonely here if they have no one to keep them company. It’s so big. Obi-Wan shares his room with three other people, and he frets if one of them is still gone by the time he falls asleep.

This much space would drive anyone mad for another’s touch.

He blinks at himself, incredulous. Is he actually trying to feel compassion for the Emperor? Is it actually working?

The Emperor flings open a pair of elaborate doors without touching them, and suddenly Obi-Wan’s in the bedchambers of the most powerful man on the planet. And to think, he’s wearing mismatched and terribly darned socks.

He resolves to not ask Vader for permission to do anything with his own body for the entire night. He sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Vader takes off his cape and his gloves.

“Would you like to know my prices before or after?” He asks as cooly as possible.

“Your price is that it’s you here and not the boy.”

“Would you have wanted the boy?” Obi-Wan can’t hide the disgust in his tone.

“No,” the Emperor says succinctly. “But I did want to know what you would do. If you really were the same man as the one in the street.”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches in his throat. “Why would you want to know that?”

“There’s so little good left in the galaxy. It’s fascinating that so much is concentrated in you.” Vader reaches up to unlatch his mask. A cascade of golden curls falls out.

He huffs. The Emperor of the Galactic Empire thinks there’s not enough good in the galaxy. It’s at the very least ironic. “It’s a greedy galaxy, your Imperial Majesty--”

The Emperor turns around to face him, helmet still held in his hands. Obi-Wan is surprised to learn he’s just a man. An attractive man, certainly, young and almost pretty with a perfect arch to his lips and a roguish scar cutting through a thick eyebrow. If he had been one of Obi-Wan’s workers, he’d have taken him under his wing, tried to protect him from the clients who would have paid extra to rough up that face.

He was saying something. Obi-Wan had meant to say something else. Oh. Right. “Good cannot be bought.”

The man in front of him--was it really Vader?--smiles, but it doesn’t reach his yellow eyes. “No,” he purrs, discarding his helmet and stalking forward. “But you can.”

[iam93percentstardust]

Hi, happy Shared Birthday Month, cause it's my birthday month as well!! Can I please prompt you a WinterIron, where Bucky and/or winter soldier is a science nerd and a massive Tony Stark stan? Happy with setting in any era, any rating 😄 Thank you! You are amazing and I love your stuff!

Happy late birthday! Sorry it took me a bit to get to this prompt but here is a cute no-powers au, featuring some minor Natasha/Steve and some science from a paper my lab group read in group meeting yesterday (check the ao3 story for the paper citation). Sorry I didn't come up with something more original for the science but this was on my mind.

As always, everything I write is also on ao3.

~

“Okay, Steve, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me—for us,” Bucky quickly corrects when Steve shoots him an amused look. “So what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to sit quietly in the audience,” Steve says.

“And what are we not going to do?”

“Shout that our best friend would like to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane,” Steve dutifully repeats what Bucky has been telling him for the whole drive to the studio. He gives Bucky a sly smile. “Even if it’s true.”

Bucky swats his skinny arm lightly, enough to sting but not so hard that it’ll bruise Steve’s arm, which bruises like a peach. He still can’t believe he managed to win the tickets to watch the live taping of the one hundredth episode of Tony Stark’s show, It’s Only Science If You Write It Down. He’s been following the show since its first episode five years ago. Growing up, Tony Stark was to him what Britney Spears was to other kids. Stark was always in the news for his innovative inventions for his father’s company. Everyone had thought he would take over SI after his parents’ deaths, but instead he’d handed the company over to Pepper Potts, a then-unknown young woman working in SI’s financial department. Stark still held the majority of shares in the company but he’d turned his focus to becoming the next Bill Nye, along with his best friend. Bucky had stumbled across one of the articles about him when he was young and immediately developed one heck of a crush on him that hadn’t at all disappeared with age.

And now he’s here, attending the first ever live taping of Stark’s show.

It’d be a dream come true if only Steve wasn’t the one attending with him. Don’t get him wrong, Stevie’s great, but he’s also convinced Bucky needs to date more often and he’s very… enthusiastic about making sure that everyone they meet that Bucky thinks is even the slightest bit cute knows that.

Stark is the crush to end all crushes. He knows that Steve knows it. He also knows what Steve is like, and he thinks he’ll die of shame if Steve feels the need to let Stark know it too.

“You have your inhaler, right?” he asks as the line creeps forward.

“Yes, mother,” Steve sighs, patting his pocket. “And an EpiPen in the other pocket and my meds in my wallet.”

They’re reminded to keep their phones firmly in their pockets by the surly security guard—incongruously named Happy, according to the badge he’s wearing—at the front door and then ushered inside the studio, only to be stopped by a young woman with a clipboard as they’re climbing the risers.

“Hi,” she says with a sphinxlike smile that makes Bucky want to check that his wallet is still in his pocket. “Which one of you is Bucky Barnes?”

“Uh, that would be me,” he says, raising his hand slightly.

Her eyes catch on the silver sheen of his prosthetic. They don’t register anything other than idle curiosity, but Bucky still awkwardly tucks the arm away. It’s been almost ten years since the accident, but he’s still not used to the looks he gets when people see it.

“I’m Natasha,” she says. “Mr. Stark’s personal assistant. JARVIS noticed you when you entered the studio. Mr. Stark wanted me to inform you both that there’s been a change to the contest winnings.”

Dread starts to pool in Bucky’s stomach but it doesn’t have long to settle before her smile gentles and she adds, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. He just wanted to invite the two of you backstage after the show is over.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. Steve reaches over to close it and asks, “Why?”

To Bucky’s surprise, Natasha gives Steve a clear onceover, seemingly pleased by what she sees. “Mr. Stark wouldn’t like me to give away his secrets, but I’d imagine it has something to do with the way he spilled his coffee all over his front when he saw your friend’s picture.”

“Really?” Steve asks skeptically. “A notorious playboy tripping all over himself for this yahoo here?”

Natasha laughs, hard enough that Bucky mutters, “It wasn’t that funny.”

Once she’s calmed down, Natasha says, “He’s not as bad as you think. A lot of it is just reputation. And yes, as soon as he got a look at him, he was demanding I figure out a way to get him backstage.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Steve demands, taking an indignant stance.

Natasha hums, eyes going dark. “Oh no, you got invited backstage because I wanted to meet you,” she purrs. “I’ll come find you boys later. Enjoy the show.”

She saunters off, putting just enough of a sway to her step that Bucky suspects if he were attracted to women, he’d be mesmerized. As it is, he’s the one who has to reach over to close Steve’s jaw this time.

They take their seats and a few minutes later, Tony Stark and James Rhodes walk on set. They’re quietly talking to each other as the crew bustles around them, makeup artists darting up to make sure their faces look perfect. Stark is dressed in a t-shirt that says Engineers do it on the test bench—which is a terrible joke really and shouldn’t make Bucky want to laugh as much as he does—and well-worn jeans that perfectly mold to the shape of his bubble butt. Rhodes could be dressed in a paper sack for all that Bucky notices him.

Steve leans over and whispers, “You sure that I can’t yell that you want to bang Tony Stark like a screen door in a hurricane? Natasha made it sound like he’d be open to it.”

“You do,” Bucky hisses back, “and I’ll tell Natasha you were looking at her rear when she walked away.”

Steve makes an indignant noise and sits back in his chair, sulkily crossing his arms.

“Quiet on set!” the director yells. “And… action!”

“Hi!” Tony Stark says, smiling right at the camera. “I’m Tony and this is Rhodey and you’re watching Disney Channe!”

“He’s kidding,” Rhodes says long-sufferingly. “You’re watching It’s Only Science If You Write It Down.”

Later, Bucky wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what the show had been about. He’d spent the entire show too entranced by Tony’s voice and charisma to pay any attention to the actual science, which is a bit of a shame. He really does like science—he wouldn’t be getting his PhD in physical chemistry if he didn’t—but he can’t tear his eyes away from Tony long enough to actually watch the experiment. It’s fine; he can always watch the show later when it’s released (and maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll have Tony to watch it with).

It seems like both an eternity and only a moment before the show wraps. Tony and Rhodes leave to thunderous applause, only coming back out for quick bows before disappearing backstage again. Bucky and Steve stay seated while the rest of the audience filters out slowly until Natasha comes to get them. She and Steve chat quietly as she leads them backstage but Bucky can only listen with half an ear; he’s too nervous about meeting his personal hero.

Rhodes is leaving the room Natasha leads them to. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots the three of them. “Good, you’re here,” he says, specifically looking at Bucky. “Maybe you can calm him down. He’s been bouncing off the walls since he saw your picture.”

“Really?” Bucky squeaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Really?”

“Really. He read all your papers last night—twice.”

“He has?”

Rhodes nods. “He really likes your piece on inelastic electron wave packet scattering.”

“Yeah? What did he—”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Rhodes interrupts. “I might be a rocket scientist but chemistry isn’t my preferred field of science. If you don’t mind, I’ve got a date to get to.”

He pushes the door open, letting them in, and leaves. Natasha slips through the door, followed immediately by Tony saying, “Where are—oh god, they left, didn’t they? I knew this was too much. Nat—”

“They’re right outside,” Natasha says smoothly. She opens the door further, revealing the two of them awkwardly standing there. Bucky’s gaze darts around a fairly nice dressing room before finally landing on Tony, who is blinking back at him with a wide-eyed, slightly stunned look.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

The corner of Tony’s mouth twitches up in the tiniest of smiles. “Hi.”

“Great, now that that’s out of the way, get out,” Natasha says, giving Tony a shove so that he stumbles out of the room, right into Bucky’s arms. She reaches out and grabs Steve, pulling him inside. “Don’t disturb me for the next hour.”

“Uh,” Steve begins, but he doesn’t actually look upset by this turn of events, so Bucky doesn’t worry—too much, anyway.

He does, however, turn to Tony and ask, “Is he going to be okay?”

“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Tony says breezily. “Natasha’s just very direct.”

“Right.”

Now that it’s just the two of them alone in the hallway, it’s a little more awkward. Bucky opens his mouth twice to say something, only to shut it again as soon as he realizes his question is stupid. For his part, Tony shoves his hands deep into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet.

Then the sound of what is obviously Steve moaning floats through the door. Bucky cringes and jerks his thumb in the direction of the door. “We should—”

“Yep,” Tony agrees.

They get all the way back to the set before they stop. They look at each other for a beat before dissolving into giggles. “Oh my god,” Tony says, clutching his sides. “I knew she moved fast but—”

“Well, Steve doesn’t move fast at all,” Bucky says, “so you can see where I’m a bit lost.”

That sets Tony off into another round of laughter. Bucky is calming down a bit so he takes the moment to admire the way Tony laughs with his entire body. It takes Tony a moment to realizes he’s being stared at. When he does, his laugh tapers off as he gives Bucky a lingering look.

“I’m Tony,” he says eventually.

“Bucky.”

“Wow, that’s really unfortunate.”

“You’re not wrong,” Bucky agrees. “Blame Stevie for that one.”

“Childhood friends, huh?”

“Literally played naked together in the kiddie pool.”

Tony grins. “That sounds familiar.”

“You and Rhodes—”

“Oh no, but if you ever get the chance to meet Janet Van Dyne, remember to ask her about the time she thought she could make a living selling mud pies.”

Bucky takes a moment to marvel that this is his life now, that Tony thinks nothing of giving him dirt on the most prolific fashion designer of their generation. “So, uh, Rhodes told me you read my papers?”

Tony’s eyes light up, and, wow, he looks really pretty when he’s excited. “Yes!” he exclaims. “I want to hear your thoughts on the—uh—the time-dependent density functional theory model.”

“I’d love to,” Bucky says honestly. He bites his lip. “Maybe over coffee?”

A delighted smile spreads across Tony’s face. “I’d really like that.”

He holds out his hand for Bucky to take, which he does. Tony’s hand is small and warm, fitting perfectly against his. They stand there, smiling at each other like idiots, until the surly security guard pokes his head around the corner and asks, “Boss, do you need me to drive you?”

Tony jumps. He shoots Bucky a sheepish grin and then calls over his shoulder, “No, I think we can walk, Happy.”

“Are you sure? There’s—”

“It’s only two blocks.”

“Yeah, but—”

“You know what, Happy. You should go see if Natasha needs you to drive her somewhere. I think she’s got a date too.” While Happy is distracted, Tony tugs Bucky towards a side door he hadn’t noticed earlier. “Come on,” he mutters. “Before Natasha decides to kill me for sending Happy to interrupt her.”

“You could not antagonize her,” Bucky points out.

Tony shoots him a mischievous grin. “Where’s the fun in that?”

[somethingwritey]

How is the Rangshi long fic coming? Id love an update on ittttt!

Hello! I'm so glad you're still thinking about my Rangshi fic! It's currently around 20k at the moment—definitely getting a bit carried away!

Because you asked, here's another little out-of-context snippet ;)

-----

“Do you think the spirits would mind if I assassinated a world leader?”

Jinpa jerked his head up at the question, risking a glance behind him at her. Kyoshi knew she must be a sight to behold, laying out across the wide saddle and staring up at the darkening clouds. In her hands, she opened and closed a fan in time to her pounding pulse.

“I don’t think that’s listed as an Avatar duty,” Jinpa stammered, thoroughly taken aback by her proposal.

“Bummer.”

Jinpa was quiet for a few moments, no doubt trying to edge around the subject towards her reasoning. “I take it that meeting with the Fire Lord went… poorly?”

Kyoshi propped herself up on her elbows to stare him in the face. She hoped he could read how absolutely stupid that question had been. She’d emerged from the Fire Lord’s palace by stomping, causing tiny earthquakes as she marched over to the stables. That should’ve been indication enough.

“He’s out of control.” Kyoshi shivered—Rangi’s absence making itself very apparent just then; she could always be counted on for a little extra warmth while traveling.

Kyoshi went back to staring at the sky.

Zoryu’s words about the Firebender still echoed in her ears, doing more to chill her than the night air ever could. She wished she could put more distance between Rangi and the Fire Lord, despite being hidden away in Yokoya.

For a terrifying moment, she wondered if Zoryu somehow knew. If he could see the girl in her cotton shift, laid out on the infirmary bed with her hands knotted in the sheets. If he had discovered a way to look at the bruises on her face and the way her breath still rattled slightly whenever she breathed. Maybe this whole meeting had been a distraction, a diversion to take Kyoshi away from the infirmary and Rangi. Maybe, it was too late.

“Jinpa!” Kyoshi felt her heart pounding in her ears. “Fly faster!”

She worked herself up as they flew, imagining horrific scenes of injury and destruction—rivaling the iceberg or North Chung-Ling - only this time, it would absolutely be her fault. If anything happened to Rangi, the Flying Opera Company, even Hei-Ran and Atuat, she would be to blame.

Kyoshi gripped the edge of the saddle, her knuckles turning white from the effort. She watched the ground grow closer and closer as Yingyong spiralled into a descent. Her chest tightened with every drop in altitude, and once, she almost slipped over the edge and plummeted the last several feet to the ground.

“Quiet evening.” Jinpa seemed on the whole unaware of her own personal panic. He landed Yingyong with ease and dismounted, walking around the side of the bison to assist Kyoshi like he always did.

She didn’t wait for the monk to make it over to her. She tumbled from the saddle, falling hard onto the ground and scrambling back up to her feet.

“Kyoshi!” he yelled after her in disbelief.

She didn’t turn around, stumbling towards the infirmary to what she knew would be waiting for her. Blindly, she pushed open the door and tripped over the doorway, panting and gasping for air, to find -

No evidence of violence. No ransom note or bodies or trails of blood. Just Hei-Ran and Atuat sitting in a few chairs with bowls of noodles, with the rest of the Flying Opera Company still bedridden, but looking more vibrant than before. Even Rangi looked, on the whole, unchanged, propped up in bed. Someone had even taken the time to put her hair back up in its usual topknot.

“Well,” Hei-Ran said dryly, taking in Kyoshi’s haggard appearance. “Are you being pursued by wolfbats? Lion vultures? Spider snakes, perhaps?”

Kyoshi’s face flushed red, and she tried hard to catch her breath - smoothing down her skirts to remove the ruffles.

“Did the monk get eaten?” Atuat asked calmly, taking another bite of her noodles. Clearly, the two women were enjoying the joke at Kyoshi’s expense.

Rangi covered her mouth, looking as though she was trying to keep a straight face for Kyoshi’s sake and failing at it. Kyoshi glared at her.

“Not you, too.”

A little snort escaped Rangi’s fingers, and her eyes went wide.

“Some bison ride you must’ve had,” Kirmia ventured, surveying Kyoshi’s windswept state. “What did happen to that Airbender of yours?”

Kyoshi gestured out the door. “Probably unsaddling Yingyong,” she told them all, still somewhat out of breath. “I, uh, just needed to check something.”

“The Fire Lord put you on edge?” Hei-Ran put down her bowl of noodles, staring hard at Kyoshi.

She forced herself to look back calmly. The last thing she wanted was to let everyone know that she’d gotten worked up over some unfulfilled threats. And now that she was here, even Kyoshi could tell how stupid she’d been. The infirmary was the safest place for Rangi right now, surrounded as she was by Hei-Ran and Atuat and unable to make any wrong move the Fire Lord could use to justify an attack.

Kyoshi forced a smile, relaxing her shoulders the best she could. “Nothing of the sort.” She tucked her fans back into her belt. “The meeting was simply to confirm what he already knew. Pretty big waste of time, actually.”

Hei-Ran was still studying her skeptically, probably trying to pinpoint the reason for Kyoshi’s sudden change in demeanor. Kyoshi dared to look over at Rangi again.

Her expression mirrored her mother’s, lips slightly pursed and head tilted to the side. If Kyoshi didn’t want Hei-Ran to discover the true nature of her meeting with Zoryu, she definitely didn’t want Rangi figuring it out.

Rangi’s station meant everything to her, and she took her job very seriously. If she knew that her own Fire Lord was pondering possible ways to strip the girl of her life - or worse, her honor - she would lose it.

Kyoshi had already seen how Fire Nation citizens treated their disgraced ranking officials. Hei-Ran had been pitied, patronized, pet like an animal. If anyone were to take that tone with Rangi, well, Kyoshi couldn’t promise that she would be able to keep her Avatar State in check.

“Care for some noodles?” Atuat gestured to her own bowl, holding it up for Kyoshi to see.

There was no way Kyoshi could turn down food. She hadn’t eaten since… well, Kyoshi couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d eaten, and she could feel Rangi staring daggers at her.

“Yeah,” she smiled at Atuat. “Noodles would be great.”

////

It was three days before Rangi was able to stand.

Atuat worked on her the best she could, trying to heal the internal damage caused by Yun. She told Kyoshi that bits of his earth dagger had broken off inside her wound, causing irritation and leaving a large possibility for infection. It didn’t help that Rangi was a terrible patient.

“I can get up,” she kept insisting. “I’m fine!”

When Atuat finally let her try, Rangi leapt at the opportunity, getting to her feet much too quickly and nearly doubling over from lingering stiffness and pain.

“Careful!” Kyoshi cried, hovering nearby. The outburst earned her stares from both Rangi and Atuat.

When Rangi straightened up again—slower this time—Kyoshi could see the imprint of the bandages under her shift - wrapped generously around her torso like battle armor.

“Are you sure she should be doing this?” Kyoshi asked Atuat, probably only fueling Rangi’s determination. “She’s still got bandages on! What if she starts bleeding again? We can try again tomorrow! Or next week!”

“Kyoshi, what’s your problem?” Rangi narrowed her eyes.

She was being far too overprotective, Kyoshi knew. She should back off. Let Rangi manage her own recovery. But even though it was inviting Rangi’s wrath, Kyoshi didn’t want her Firebender’s stubbornness to impede her healing process.

Rangi needed to take it slow. Make sure she didn’t make things worse with her rush to get better. As much as Kyoshi wanted to see her girl back on her feet, she knew it wouldn’t benefit either of them if it happened too quickly.

That’s what Kyoshi told herself as she watched Atuat support Rangi and instruct her to gently raise and lower her arms - stretching out her muscles. Kyoshi just didn’t want Rangi to overextend herself. To tear open her wound. To hurry an infection along. Her concern was born from love and care, not selfishness.

Or cowardice.

As if to poke holes in her reasoning, Hei-Ran entered the tent, arms crossed. “Jinpa told me your meeting with the Fire Lord ended… abruptly.” She glanced over at Atuat and Rangi for the briefest of moments. “Rangi, straighten your shoulders. Injuries don’t excuse bad posture.”

Rangi huffed, but obediently did as she was told. She respected her mother’s authority, whether she liked it or not.

Kyoshi picked her next words carefully. Lying to Hei-Ran was never a good idea, but neither was letting on just how badly the meeting had actually gone. “I think… the messages of both parties had ample time for sinking in.”

The words could’ve come straight from Yun’s mouth—vague with just the right amount of high-brow language. Maybe she wasn’t a hopeless cause after all.

Hei-Ran seemed surprised by the response as well. “I see. And what message did the Fire Lord impart on you?”

Shit.

Kyoshi tried to think on her feet. “Politics,” she said at last. “The importance of… political relations.”

“Sounds like the stuff Jianzhu used to preach,” Rangi offered, crinkling up her nose at the mention of the departed sage.

Hei-Ran sniffed dismissively at the mention of the man who’d nearly poisoned her to death. Kyoshi wondered inwardly if the woman ever mourned Jianzhu, despite everything. He had once been her close companion, after all.

Every one of Hei-Ran’s old friends were gone, she suddenly realized - swallowing hard. Kuruk. Kelsang. Jianzhu. The once-inseparable gang hadn’t stayed that way for very long. Hei-Ran was the sole survivor.

Killed after hunting dark spirits.

Murdered by Jianzhu.

Murdered by Yun. And me.

What terrible fates had been waiting for the previous Avatar team, often at the hands of each other. Was that what waited for her? For Rangi? For Wong and Kirimia? Was every Avatar doomed to bring failure and annihilation to the people who loved them most?

“Atuat,” she said sharply, turning to look at Rangi who’d made good progress accompanied by the Waterbender. “That’s enough for today.”

“Yes, Avatar.”

As Atuat moved to help Rangi back to bed, Rangi protested - an angry haze settling over her face as she watched Kyoshi move towards the door.

“What?” Rangi twisted in Atuat’s grip, trying to break free, to run after her. “Who let her call the shots around here? Kyoshi, don’t you dare walk away from me! I’m not through talking about this!”

Kyoshi didn’t turn around. She couldn’t.

“Fine! Go clear your head! See if I care!”

And then Kyoshi made it out of earshot.

She would delay Rangi’s recovery as long as she possibly could, drag it out until the spirits themselves were begging the Firebender to get back on her feet. Because at least here in the infirmary, tucked away in Yokoya, she had people to keep her safe. She couldn’t get herself thrown into another life-threatening situation while she was still recuperating from the last one.

Kyoshi wouldn’t be the reason for Rangi’s obliteration.

And neither would Zoryu.

---

more coming soon! my commissions are open (and so is my ask box!)

[levis-hazelnut]

Levi x Reader How To Be The Perfect Boyfriend

Summary: Levi advising others on how to make a woman happy (because men just seem to be oblivious to this and don’t know how to be the perfect boyfriend).

1. Always make time for her, brats. If you try to push her away, she'll find a way to get you to spend time with her.

As always, Levi would wake up after a couple of hours of sleep, which wasn't very healthy for him, and he would start his day. He has breakfast, has a half an hour break to do whatever he wants before his squad awaits him on the training ground. Once their training session finishes, he heads to his office, getting ready to make a start on the paperwork that resided on his desk. And that's when she comes in with a tray and a smile adorning her lips. She placed the tray on the wooden surface and gave him a cup of tea with steam dancing around over it. Levi quietly thanked her as she took her own cup of tea and sat on the edge of the desk. After taking a sip, smoky hues glanced at the face of the person he loved (though, he would never say that aloud unless he was in the mood to be sappy). He shot her a questioning look since she was just staring at him, her tea long forgotten. "What do you want?" he inquired. Without a single word leaving her lips, she leapt off of the desk and made herself comfortable on Levi's lap. He bit back a huff when she buried her face into the crook of his neck and placed butterfly kisses over his skin. "(Y/N), I have a shit ton of paperwork to do." "And...? Are you prioritising your work over me - your wonderful, loving, best ever girlfriend?" she sassed back, removing her face from his neck.

"You know I'm always putting you first. It's just that I want to finish this and deliver it to Eyebrows so he can get off my back." "Fine," the curt word left her lips as she got off of the raven-haired male. "I guess you don't love me anymore." The last thing he saw was a pout before she disappeared into his bedroom. He knew she was doing this just for attention, but he couldn’t sit around like this. Sighing, Levi ran a hand through his hair and scraped his chair against the floor, standing up and walking into the room his girlfriend decided to retreat to. She laid on her side, beautiful, (E/C) orbs on the radiant sky outside the window that was slightly ajar, letting a refreshing breeze into the room. Levi laid behind her, his chest barely brushing her back as he looped his muscular arms around her waist, tugging her closer to him. Even though he couldn't see her face, he could bet that she still forced on a pout that deterred a smirk from appearing. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he hummed, kissing the back of her neck. "I can leave the paperwork for later since I don't have to finish it until tomorrow." A smile sprang onto (Y/N)'s lips when she twisted her body around and snuggled into Levi after pecking his lips. He let a smile of his own conquer his lips, even though he was still mildly irritated that she always finds a way to make him waste time. "I love you, Levi." "And you know I do, too, otherwise, I wouldn't be here cuddling with you." 2. Do not call her 'brat' (unless you don't wish to reproduce).

There she was, training a bunch of poor excuses of soldiers meant to protect humanity. Yeah, well, forget about them, they have no significance. Only the woman teaching them does. She stood there with a wrinkle formed in between her brows, yet a miniature smile rested on her soft lips. Her arms were crossed over her chest as her melodic voice sounded over the hushed voices of scouts who had the fucking audacity to talk over her. She could obviously hear them, but being the generous person she is, she didn't bother in shouting at them. Or maybe it was because she knew it wouldn't make them stop. Anyway, back to her beautiful self: her luscious tresses danced with the faint breeze that caressed her face, which held glistening eyes, a boopable nose, and lips that Levi made swollen. Then, let's go to her amazing body that Levi has caused to ache and covered it in love bites and such. If you're getting sick of the description, just imagine the sexiest goddess and multiply her beauty by fifty. You'll still be nowhere near imagining the woman standing there, but it's the closest you could get. Once the scouts got to training and (Y/N) just watched over them, her boyfriend came into sight as he approached her. "Hey, my love," she beamed. "Hi, brat," Levi replied and was about to peck her nose, however, that didn't happen when he stumbled back when his girlfriend pushed him. A frown danced on his face. "What the hell are you doing?" "Don't call me 'brat'," she growled and edged closer to him before thrusting her knee into a place that seemed as if it had an effect on the boys watching as they all winced and let out sounds of pain. The Corporal dropped to the ground as his 'wonderful, loving, best ever girlfriend' smirked down at him before facing her squad. "Girls, this is how you deal with jerks that don't know how to treat you right. Now, get back to training!" After her little piece of advice, (Y/N) turned back around to the groaning Levi, sprawled on the floor. "Love ya, my honey," she piped and crouched down to peck his forehead. Fucking brat... Levi thought once her lips touched his skin. 3. Show that you love her; randomly attack her with affection, or just cheer her up when she's down, or simply keep her company while she's relaxing. Cheesy shit like that (do excuse my language, dipshits).

The sun beamed down on the training grounds (though, the sun could never compare to her smile) where scouts were lazing around because of the heat smouldering them. Levi could care less since he wasn't in the mood to scold them or train them. So, he headed over to (Y/N), who took cover under the shade of a tree that loomed over her as if protecting her. She sat down cross-legged on the emerald grass, leaning her back against the trunk of a tree as she had a book in her lap. As to not disturb her too much, Levi quietly neared her before settling on the grass beside her. She gazed at him with a tender smile touching her lips before facing the book again. He draped an arm around her shoulders and made her rest her head on his shoulder as he started to run his hands over her (H/C), silky tresses. The action soothed both of them. Shortly, lips softly pressed against the top of her head, which made her put the book down as she lifted her head off of Levi's shoulder to face him. A smirk stained his lips and (Y/N) leaned forward to kiss him. Fingers tangled themselves in her hair as she placed a single hand on his shoulder and shuffled closer to him. Teeth gently nibbled on her bottom lip and she parted them, letting his tongue slip into her mouth and dance with her wet muscle. A soft sigh left her lips and vibrated against his before they pulled away. (Y/N) licked the string of their combined saliva away, leaning her forehead against Levi's. No words were spoken, but that didn't matter since no words were needed. ~/~ Everyone had distress written all over their faces after another miserable expedition. Many losses, many injuries, many disasters. And everyone included (Y/N). She was in her room, lying down in her bed with the covers encasing her as she quietly sobbed, clutching a piece of fabric against her chest. Marie, her best friend that she's known ever since she joined the Survey Corps, had died on this expedition. She hadn't been there to try to save Marie and she blamed herself for that. She blamed herself for being a terrible friend. "(Y/N)?" Levi softly called once he padded into her bedroom. He got no response, except sobs as he approached her. The raven sat on the edge of the bed and gently tugged (Y/N) onto his lap and cradled her, tucking her head under his chin. He hushed her like a mother to a child and rubbed comforting circles on her back.

He knew anything he tried to do would be useless since it was her best friend that she lost. Losing anyone was difficult, but losing someone that was close to you was something that no one wished to experience. "... I-I wasn't eve-en th-there in h-he-er... last mo-oments-s..." "Shh. It’s not your fault, my love." With some more calming words, her sobs soon quietened and there were only a few tears. Levi forced her to get ready for bed and sleep since she hasn't rested since they came back from the expedition. Her boyfriend changed into something more comfortable before crawling in next to her. He wrapped his arms around his girlfriend protectively and pulled her close, promising that he'll keep her safe, no matter what. ~/~ The (H/C)-haired female stared out of her open window, watching over the scouts that messed around on the training grounds as a subconscious smile fell on her face. She was so engrossed in the azure sky, the puffs of white, the luminous spotlight and the scouts, that she didn't even hear her office door open. She continued smiling and staring until a fit of giggles suddenly took over. She tried slapping away the hands that tickled her sides and squirmed in her spot before slowly dropping to the ground as fingers proceeded to tickle her further. "Levi!! Stop, stop!! Levi, seriously...! I'm going to pee myself!" she said in between giggles and pants, trying to push the human on top of her off. Soon, there was no movement, only (Y/N)'s chest rising and falling as she caught her breath and gazed into grey hues. Once oxygen was back into her lungs, slightly chapped lips moulded with hers for a slow dance as she was pinned to the floor. "What was all this for?" she whispered with a grin when their lips parted. "I was bored and you were off guard." "Hm. I love you so much, Levi," she hummed and brushed his ebony locks back from his forehead. "I love you so much, too," he murmured before smashing his lips against hers once more. 4. Never call her a monster when she's on her period. Also, always attend to her needs before said monster comes out.

Levi just barely dodged the book that was thrown at him as he retreated into his office, trying to take cover from the monster that lay in his bed. Though, he shouldn't call her monster anymore since the book was launched at him for that very reason. Not wanting to interact with the beast any further, he sat at his desk and finished off the pile of paperwork that decided to wander onto the surface. "Levi!!” At the scream of his name, the aforementioned male's hand had slipped and caused the ink to ruin the page. He clicked his tongue as quietly as he could before getting up and leaning against the doorframe of his bedroom. "Yes?" "Could you get me some mint tea, my darling?" she asked with an innocent voice. "Okay," Levi said and walked away, leaving to get (Y/N) tea, being the amazing boyfriend he is. "Levi!" What's the fuck is wrong now? Levi groaned internally before facing her once again. "When you come back, can you cuddle with me?" "... Sure." "Okay. Thank you, my sweetheart." Finally, he was able to leave his office and not have to her screaming his name. Yeah, she was in a bed, but he would prefer if he was in that bed with her as she screamed his name. However, he can't do that right now. Levi made (Y/N) her tea before going back to his room and giving it to her. She took a sip, let out a satisfied sigh before yanking the short male down onto the bed. Damn, even though she's in pain, she's fucking strong. His chest collided with hers before he rolled onto the side, embracing her and rubbing circles on her abdomen that seemed to help her. "Levi?" "Hm?" "Do you hate me?" "... No." Ah, the hesitation. Why did he hesitate? If he didn't, everything would be fine. "I said: Levi, do you hate me?" she repeated, gritting her teeth. "Of course not, darling. I love you more than you could ever imagine." Ugh, those words made him feel nauseous, but if it meant he could keep his head, he would say it.

Well, it's not like he was lying. 5. Help her. She may be terrifying and strong at times, but she still acts like a damsel in distress when she's perfectly fine.

Levi sat at his desk, pen in hand as his eyes grazed over the words written on a piece of paper that resided on his desk. It was almost fucking midnight and he had to send in this report to Erwin by tomorrow morning. Distracting him from his work, (Y/N) stumbled into his office and dropped a tray that held two cups of tea. He barely regarded her before getting back to his task, knowing she was glaring at him, but decided to do nothing about it. "Levi!" "What do you want?" he muttered. "Would you mind helping me?" "You're the one that dropped it." Her eyes narrowed and she clenched her fists before standing up and storming over to his desk. This is when he finally decided to look at her when she towered over him with her index finger pointing towards him. "You're such a jerk, you know." "I know. Go clean up that mess." She sighed and flicked his forehead before doing as he said, no matter how impolite he was being. Once she wiped up the tea with wipes and a spray, she started to clean up the shattered glass. As she did that, Levi crouched down in front of her and helped his girlfriend, who just stared at him. "Stop looking at me like that, just be grateful I'm helping your clumsy ass." She smiled before quietly hissing in pain. Concern flickered in the raven's eyes, but soon confusion appeared when she was still smiling. "I'm fine. I just got a bit of glass in my finger." The female with (E/C) eyes stood up and put her finger in the light so she could see the glass. A shadow prevented that from happening as Levi took her hand and easily removed it before putting it into a tissue. "Thank you, my love,” she beamed. 6. Push bitches away. Once you do that, show her that she's the only one you want.

Levi had been forced to go to a ball of sorts with Erwin and Hanji. But of course, he despises snobby shitheads and pigs flaunting their money, so why would he want to go to an event full of those creatures? After much complaining, Erwin had told him that he could bring (Y/N) along, and that had shut Levi up. And there they were, dressed in formal clothes as they followed Erwin around, conversing with people. "This shit's boring as hell," Levi murmured to his beloved who had hooked her arm with his. "Do you want to dance?" "Are you stupid? I hate dancing." "Oh, come on, baby. We've danced before." "Yeah, I did that for you. I'm not doing it again. Not even if it would get rid of titans." "Fine... Could you get me a drink, please, then?" "Sure." She let Levi go over to a table and get drinks for both of them as she wandered over to Hanji who was talking to some woman. The brunette gave (Y/N) a grin before introducing her to the woman she was talking to. "It's nice meeting you, (Y/N). And I just want to say that the man you were walking with is gorgeous." "Yes, he definitely is," she smiled. Only Hanji knew that it was a fake smile. "I'm lucky since I've been with him for a few years now," she made sure to add, so this woman knows to stay the fuck away. "Oi, you lot, get off of me," Levi snarled, trying to push a couple of women away and making sure not to spill the drinks he was holding. "Well, you have nowhere to go, do you now?" one of them spoke, batting her eyelashes and dragging a finger from his collarbone down to his waistband. He put a glass down on the table and slapped that hand away before it could go further, shooting the woman a glare. "Touch me one more fucking time and you're going to lose that hand," he threatened darkly. Levi doesn't care who he's talking to, be it a woman or not. No one touches him like that. Yeah, right now, he sounds like a dickhead for treating women like this, but he would be even more of a dickhead if he didn't attempt to push them away when he has the most perfect woman by his side. "And I actually do have a place to go to. You see, my girlfriend over there wants to dance. You know the one in that icy blue dress? Yeah, that's her. And, oh look, she sees me so she's going to slap every single one of you if you don't fucking get your shitty hands off of me." Hm. Looks like that scared them, Levi smirked mentally once they all decided to move away. He straightened his clothes and passed (Y/N) a glass of wine as she glared at the women that scurried away. "Come, let's dance," the Corporal slipped her hand into his and led her to the other dancing couples. "I thought that you didn't want to dance." "I will if it means that those b*tches will leave me alone." The (H/C)-haired female gave Levi a tender smile (she knew that it wasn't because of that reason) as she placed one hand on his shoulder as the other clutched his hand. The raven's other hand rested on her waist before they swiftly danced as (E/C) and grey clashed. (Y/N) lifted her hand off of Levi's shoulder and he spun her around before bringing her back close to him. Soon, their dancing slowed down and all they focused on was each other's eyes before standing completely still amidst the other couples that moved their way around the hall. Levi rested his forehead against the one of the woman he loved, their lips barely brushing. However, a couple bumped into them which disrupted their moment that felt as if they were the only two people in the room. Levi caught his beloved before she could tumble over. Looking to see who it was, grey hues met blue and brown ones. Hanji and Erwin. "Tch." "Hi, (Y/N), Shorty! Keep your kissing for later." 7. If you love her as much as you claim to, propose. That will make her feel as if she's the happiest woman alive (and it will make you feel as if you’re the happiest man alive).

(Y/N) and Levi laid in bed together, entangled in each other's arms with their legs overlapping as they peacefully slept. (Y/N) had her face hidden in the crook of Levi's neck as her chest pressed against his. The raven tucked her head under his chin as his arms rested around her naked figure. They had stayed up most of the night, doing things. And the good thing is that everyone had a day off today so they could sleep in as much as they wanted. They may miss breakfast, but that didn't matter. The sunlight scattered through the curtains in Levi's bedroom, resting on his girlfriend's face which caused her to close her eyes tighter as a frown settled onto her visage. She turned away from the light, which meant turning her back to her boyfriend, who quietly groaned. He subconsciously tugged her closer to him and buried his nose in her hair. A yawn left her lips as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times. She smiled at the feeling of Levi's arms that kept her warm and safe before closing her eyes again. When she did that, she felt light kisses peppering over her neck, causing a sigh of delight to leave her lips as lips trailed down her spine. He went further down and nipped on one of her butt cheeks so she let out a small yelp and lifted her foot to kick him. Of course, however, she had no idea where she was aiming. A grunt sounded and the grip on her loosened. "You really don't want kids, do you?" he grumbled in his husky, morning voice that also hinted with pain. "You want kids? Even though you hate brats?" she snapped with her back still facing him. She felt his hands travel over her hips to find her hands. He acknowledged which hand was which and took her left one in his. "If they're yours, I want them after we get married," he hummed, slipping something light and cold onto her finger. "... Wait... No. Are you joking? Levi, I swear, if you're joking, I'll straight-up murder you," she threatened after turning around to face him when she noticed a smile resting on his lips. "I'm not joking. I'm being serious," he chuckled lightly. "I love you, (Y/N). I don't want to lose you and I always want you by my side. So, (Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?" "You idiot, of course, I will," (Y/N) sobbed and embraced her, now, fiancé. "I love you so fucking so much." And that, brats, is how to be the perfect boyfriend. You're welcome, dumbshits - by Levi.

[mythicamagic]

Sesskag Week: Day One ‘Green’

Title: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before

Summary: Kagome witnesses Inuyasha and Kikyo in another loving embrace and runs away, stumbling straight into Sesshoumaru that moonlit night. (My attempt at an old fandom trope.)

Rated T

Words: 4,000

You can read this on Ao3, Dokuga and Fanfiction.net 

AN: I just wanted to try my hand at an old sesskag fandom trope that I reckon was in the height of popularity from the early 2000s- 2010s. Other tropes from that time included Abusive Inuyasha, no one knowing what the canon end or final battle was like, and mokomoko being sentient. Ah...old memories. If this fic feels like it's from a bygone era, well...that was the intention lol. For Sesskag Week Day One - Green.

-----

Standing frozen stiff, Kagome stared ahead. A gasp remained locked behind her teeth. Slim fingers dug into the bark of a tree she'd hidden behind, gazing around the trunk towards a couple cradling each other tightly.

This was the second time. The first had hit harder inside her chest, the slam of heartbreak cracking the fragile shell of first love that had closed around her heart.

But she'd made a promise to Inuyasha; to remain by his side. She needed to get over this haze of green misting her eyes, the jealousy roaring through her veins. Inuyasha and Kikyo used to be lovers, it was perfectly natural and humane to want to hold his lost love.

That didn't make it any easier to see.

In fact, the emotion welling up in her throat threatened to burst louder than before. Fearing the strength of her own reaction, Kagome stepped back. She took another, then another, whirling around to flee into pitch-black darkness.

I wanted to be more mature about this, she thought. The tears stinging her eyes bespoke of her anger, worry, and heartache- like an old wound had been freshly ripped open anew.

Kagome couldn't be understanding or mature, not like poised Lady Kikyo likely could. Kagome was 15, emotive and sparking. She was fire, passion, a roaring flame of anger that could climb so high nothing would stifle it.

Stumbling over tree roots in the dark, quiet woods, Kagome ran blind. When she felt that she'd covered enough ground, far away from the lover's embrace, she stopped abruptly in the middle of a meadow. Sweat beading her temple and throat burning, she threw back her head.

And yelled.

She threw all turbulent emotions into it, crying so loud her windpipe protested. The noise became horse and broken before she stopped.

Standing within that moonlit clearing, Kagome caught her breath, tears threatening to spill over.

"Must you make such noise in the dead of night?" a steady voice drawled.

Her chest constricted, breath halting. Shadows peeled off from the trees, a figure revealing itself under the moonlight.

Kagome blinked hard, trying to fight tears as Sesshoumaru stepped closer. She moved back to keep distance, vaguely wary. Shit, she'd forgotten her weapons.

He wasn't an enemy per se anymore but they weren't exactly allies either. Since he'd adopted that human girl, they seemed to be in more of a stalemate. Nonetheless, the caprice of the Killing Perfection's moods were unpredictable.

"M-my bad, I didn't think anyone was around."

"You cried like a wounded animal," his lips curved, as though enjoying the thought. "Take heed, girl; such wailing will disturb demons with keen hearing- and not all are as forgiving as I tonight."

"Right, duly noted," she mumbled, rubbing her arm. Damn it. She'd just wanted a place to cry. Sesshoumaru was the last person she wanted to feel vulnerable around.

Golden eyes slid up to observe something beyond the trees. Turning to follow his line of sight, her chest constricted- glimpsing a trailing soul collector in the sky.

"Inuyasha's dead priestess uses those creatures, does she not?"

"Y-yeah, they're Kikyo's soul collectors."

His attention returned to her face, resting heavily there. It disquieted her until at length, he finally made a noise. "...Hn."

The Daiyouki smoothly pivoted, walking out of her available vision to meld within thick darkness again, but she sensed him linger beneath the trees, perhaps taking a seat.

"Keep the snivelling to a minimum."

Kagome startled, blue eyes widening. The first tear fell- closely followed by the second. Soon a stream of them flooded down her face, and she crumpled to her knees, palm clasped tight over her mouth as she tried not to sob.

She wasn't sure how or why. How she could suddenly fall apart in front of him when Kagome prided herself on not crying in front of anyone if it were possible. The why also remained a mystery- why did he invite her to stay? Sesshoumaru was not a charitable sort. Perhaps his sadistic streak enjoyed the salt of endless tears.

Kagome stayed there, quivering in the moonlit clearing for a good while, grass cushioning her bare legs, arms wrapped around herself protectively. When at last the sobs abated, she shakily stood.

Without a word to the demon who had watched her like a voyer of her pain, Kagome headed towards the village after piecing herself back together.

She couldn't see Sesshoumaru's expression, nor the way in which citrine eyes followed her figure until she stepped out of sight.

---

It wasn't like Kagome cried after every damn encounter with Kikyo, though they did leave her worn and exhausted. She felt mighty proud of not bursting into sobs the second Inuyasha's eyes lingered on her a little too long. But Kagome could bear that. She could bear many things.

It was fine, totally fine. She was fine!

Until she wasn't.

It had been two months since that emotional night and thankfully Sesshoumaru hadn't acknowledged her fine display of despair and teenage hormones. In fact, he seemed a little quieter during their encounters while hunting for Naraku, pinpointing her amidst her friends and eyeing her carefully sometimes.

So it was with mild surprise that Kagome stumbled into him again on one such occasion where she needed a good cry. And then again a few weeks after- followed by another encounter near a waterfall a month later. Every time, Sesshoumaru said nothing. He merely waited a respectable distance away, not particularly looking at, nor acknowledging her sorrow as she let out pent up frustrations.

What should be an immensely private thing had changed. Kagome wasn't sure what to feel about it, especially when he began erecting barriers around the area.

Almost like he was ensuring her privacy while continuing to invade it himself.

"W-why…?" she choked out one evening, sitting upon a log with only the Daiyoukai for company. Inuyasha and the others were none the wiser, sitting back at camp further within the forest. "Why are you here, hanging around? Is it fun for you to watch this?" her anger simmered, misdirected.

Sesshoumaru's lazy gaze slid over to her, reclining at the base of a tree. He huffed, drawing a knee up to gracefully drape an arm over it. "Your wailing is an assault on my hearing, I derive no pleasure from this."

"Then what's the deal? I find it hard to believe you're doing it for me."

"Hn, you are correct, I am not," he freely admitted. "This act of concealment is out of acknowledgement. Warriors must not show weakness in battle, nor to anyone but a select few. I am merely ensuring your wish to hide your pain is successful since you are so terrible at doing it yourself," inhuman eyes pinned her in place. Her breath stalled at their intensity. "Your desire to conceal tears and weakness is unexpected for one as emotional as you."

Kagome picked at her fingers. "It's not out of a sense of duty or warrior pride as you seem to think. I just don't like burdening people with my problems. Only...all this energy piles up and explodes out as anger at Inuyasha anyway, I'm not suppressing or hiding anything at the end of the day," she gave a self-deprecating smile. Letting out a long whoosh of air from her lungs, Kagome turned to him.

"For what it's worth, thanks. For uh- concealing me. I still think it's odd that you're going to all this trouble but I'm grateful."

He arched a brow, unruffled and outwardly placid.

Wiping the remaining tears away, she gave a weak smirk. "Urgh, I blubber so loudly over a guy I really shouldn't be in love with. Kinda stupid."

"Indeed," he drawled without sympathy, glancing away.

"And you're still a jerk," she hummed, smiling slightly. But a weird, considerate one. Was it possible to be both considerate and a jerk?

Sesshoumaru did not look at her, tilting his head back to gaze at the branches overhead.

"You 'blubber' so loud a 'barrier' is necessary in order to keep your privacy. Inuyasha would catch your scent otherwise."

"Can Naraku see us like this?"

"The barrier does not mask us from sight, it merely hides scent. It is effective on Inuyasha and other demons but the spider could easily survey us from a distance."

Kagome sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Gotcha," she murmured, falling into a strangely companionable silence with him, before asking; "have you ever been in love?"

His reply was immediate and crisp; "no. Such things are for fanciful beings."

Biting her lip to keep from mentioning his 'Great and Powerful Father' had fallen victim to such fanciful things too, she hummed.

Sesshoumaru frowned in her direction. "Speak."

"I just think- when you do experience love, it's gonna knock you off your feet."

He sneered, "you think yourself an expert on the subject?"

"Gods no! Do I look like one?" Kagome grinned, gesturing to her tear-stained cheeks.

Sesshoumaru searched her face, visibly relaxing slightly. He tilted his head, surveying his sharp nails. "For what it is worth, if I had an opinion on the matter- which I do not," he assured. "I should think your fanciful 'love' emotion is not supposed to cause such pain. I question your dedication to it."

"My feelings for Inuyasha aren't something I can turn off. Believe me, I would if I could," shifting she gazed up at the stars, smiling gently. "Wow, Ursa Major looks so clear and close tonight."

Youki brushed her senses, her only warning. Soft grass crunched beneath boots as Sesshoumaru joined her on the log, sitting beside her. Mokomoko brushed the exposed skin of her knee. His eyes narrowed. "You are referring to the stars?"

Kagome blinked with surprise at his sudden piqued interest, raising a hand to point them out. "Yeah, a constellation. Ursa Major starts there and ends there," her finger drifted.

Sesshoumaru's blank features became lofty, huffing. "That is the incorrect name for it. Those stars are called Satoko."

"Who told you that?"

"My instructor when I was young. And this collection," he reached out, plucking her hand out of the air and redirecting her point to another constellation, "is Mineko, a volcano spirit."

Her skin burned at the contact, feeling his calloused palm, rough from years of training- clasping the back of her hand. Kagome blinked, feeling strange. Her stomach jumped, and she felt grateful and confused when he released her.

"I-I see! Tell me more about them, are they linked to your demonic heritage?" Kagome asked, flexing burning fingers in her lap.

Even hours afterwards, the sensation of warmth and strong youki flitting over her flesh continued to itch at her skin.

---

"I don't want to talk to you! JUST BACK OFF!"

Inuyasha's expression flickered, open hurt briefly appearing before white ears pinned flat to his skull. "FINE! Go running home again, see if I care!"

Kagome stormed away, hands balled into fists. She didn't call for Kirara to fly her to the well, she couldn't be bothered to haul herself back to the future and continue their long and tired trend of long-distance pining followed by disgruntled reconciliation.

She was tired.

Miroku, Sango and Shippo were tired too, judging from the multiple sighs sounding out behind her.

Before she could step out of earshot, she heard the monk murmuring to Inuyasha, encouraging him to follow her and make up. Likely to save everyone the hassle of another drawn-out spat.

Oh no.

Hadn't anyone listened to what she'd said? She didn't want to be chased in some coy 'let's have a fake argument' way. Real hurt and bone-weary annoyance soured her mood.

Hurrying away, Kagome began to run alongside a stream, jogging through a sparse forest and hoping to put distance between them. So lost in her thoughts of avoiding the Hanyou was she that Kagome burst through a youki barrier without noticing, glancing over her shoulder with paranoia.

By the time she detected wafts of steam brushing her skin, it was too late to stop. She gaped upon facing forward, almost crashing headfirst into a well-sculpted chest.

Long strands of silver against bare skin caught Kagome's dazed attention, gaze travelling up to find golden eyes staring down at her. Sesshoumaru paused half-naked before a hot-spring he'd likely intended on bathing in, tipping his head to one side in a silent demand for explanation.

"Kagome!" a distant voice resounded through the trees.

Panic erupted inside Kagome's heart and she turned to the demon. Her hands latched onto his remaining arm, blue eyes stinging.

"Please..."

She couldn't articulate what she wanted, even though it was so simple. Something thick clogged her throat.

The Daiyoukai lifted his attention to the trees. He then moved swiftly.

Sesshoumaru tossed his red and white hankimono over her, enclosing it tight around her body. It shielded Kagome from sight as her vision became swallowed by white silks.

Kagome jolted as a hard force shoved her down into dewy grass that perspired from heady steam saturating the air. Before she could react to the plains of a lean body pressing against hers, his weight pinning her to the ground, she heard branches shaking. Twigs snapping.

Her loafers were ripped off her feet, tossed somewhere further away. Likely out of sight. She heard them clatter over the sound of her drumming heartbeat, unable to see what was going on.

"What the- Sesshoumaru!" Inuyasha snarled, sounding slightly out of breath. "The fuck are you doing, hanging around here?"

A clawed hand minded the folds of the hankimono apart just enough to expose the side of Kagome's cheek- firm lips pressing against it. She stiffened. Sesshoumaru kissed her skin heatedly, his sigh billowing hot breath over her sensitive skin.

"Clearly I am enjoying myself with a woman. Do not interrupt, whelp."

Kagome could barely breathe, face turning steadily red. She lay frozen, reeling.

"Keh, whatever. Just tell me if you've seen Kagome pass through here."

He must not be able to smell me...

"Can you not keep tabs on a simple miko, brother?" Sesshoumaru purred, his hand gliding over her covered thigh, stroking back and forth. "Did she flee from you? I cannot say I blame her."

A snarl ripped through the hot springs. "Piss off! I'll find her myself!"

Furious sounds of bushes being slashed aside rang out, Inuyasha's swears becoming fainter as he drew further and further away.

Left with a demon straddling her and enclosed in luxurious silks, Kagome exhaled. She blinked, briefly dazed as the cover was lifted from her face, eyes adjusting. Dappled sunlight stretched across Sesshoumaru's face as he lingered close with an unreadable expression.

Kagome swallowed. "Thanks," she managed to say.

She's never been this close to a guy before, well not like this, anyway. Inuyasha carried her on his back or occasionally in his arms if the situation got dire, and they'd hugged. But this felt different.

Sesshoumaru braced himself over her using his one available arm, corded muscles leading down to a tapered waist. He was handsome in an aristocratic, cold sort of way – all hard angles and sharp edges. Her polar opposite. The heat of his bare skin bled through her school uniform, their hips melded together, and Kagome was struck by something painfully obvious that had eluded her until now.

There were...other options besides just Inuyasha.

Clearly, the Hanyou knew this little nugget too, since he flitted between herself and Kikyo.

But really, Kagome hadn't given it much thought. Hojo liked her but was easily dismissed. Kouga liked her but she'd always been too busy to really give him a chance.

And Sesshoumaru?

Her attention was helplessly fixed on him while the demon craned his neck down, scenting her hair.

Sesshoumaru had never been on the table before. Did he even look at her like that?

Golden eyes slanted to meet her, half-lidded. Her stomach did a flip, thighs twitching. Soft pink lips parted, and his attention flew to her mouth, lingering.

Before she could say anything, Inuyasha's voice sounded out somewhere close by again. "Damn it, Kagome! Just come out! Quit hiding!"

Kagome found herself sighing- stilling when she caught Sesshoumaru's dark rumble. His lips peeled back with displeasure, body leaning up and away from hers, climbing off.

Remaining sprawled on the ground for a moment, she calmed her racing heart. Picking herself up unsteadily, Kagome unwrapped the hankimono from around herself, awkwardly folding it as best she could and handing it back.

"I better go."

He inclined his head. "Until next time."

Next time.

Her gut wrenched. The next time she became upset with Inuyasha chasing after Kikyo. Oh wow. It really had become something so commonplace it felt inevitable.

That wasn't right or normal. That wasn't how she wanted to live, was it? Anticipating one crying session after another?

"Actually, let's meet up," she said, setting her shoulders back.

Surprise brightened his gaze. Sesshoumaru's lips twitched, "meet up, hm? You make it sound like an illicit affair."

Her expression darkened, "no. I'm not into that," she snipped, pushing her vindictive mood down. This was not an offer out of petty revenge. She just wanted to see him out of choice for once. "I brought a telescope. Let's use it tomorrow when it gets dark."

He agreed to it, watching her leave in that quiet, interested way he usually did. Kagome glanced back in time to see him partially turned away- hankimono clenched in his grip and lifted to his nose in a careful inhale.

---

Kagome actually felt quite happy about the meeting. Anticipation had raced through her veins during the entire day, though she didn't breathe a word about it to her friends.

After finishing up her food, she'd hung around camp late into the evening, before inching away with a weak excuse.

She didn't notice Inuyasha's keen eyes trailing after her, too preoccupied with hurrying around a nearby waterfall and retrieving her telescope that she'd hidden behind some rocks earlier.

Carrying the heavy thing up to the crest of a decently sized hill, she staggered upon finding the Daiyoukai already awaiting her at the top.

Kagome stopped and stared. She then felt a genuine smile curve her lips. How strange, that he could invoke such a reaction.

"Did I keep you waiting?"

Sesshoumaru lifted his chin haughtily, grunting. "I am not some lost puppy following you around, miko. I sensed your approach from my camp and generously decided not to stand you up."

Kagome grinned. What a big response. Almost like he was lying.

Giggling softly to herself, she arranged the telescope set, angling it up to face the distant cosmos. "Okay, you're gonna love this. I'm going to bore you with astrology and point out zodiac signs."

"These fancy foreign words do not sound boring," he uttered, leaning in close to view the stars with faint amazement, perhaps not anticipating the clarity of their view. Kagome felt his hip brush her side, her cheeks immediately blazing red. She tried to temper her reaction but failed miserably, looking at him briefly.

His placid features were much too close, familiar dark youki humming in the space between them. Comforting. Golden eyes met hers, ever watchful. Waiting.

"Sesshoumaru!"

They immediately flew apart as though they'd been doing something scandalous, Kagome's heart leaping into her throat.

Inuyasha stood a little ways away, teeth on display, hand resting on his sword. "Get the hell away from her!"

"Inuyasha- wait," she tried to cut in, but Sesshoumaru was quicker. Lifting his remaining hand, he fed youki into it, allowing deadly fingers to elongate into murderous talons. However, much to her surprise, he faced Kagome while flexing them.

"I will kill her if I please, Inuyasha," he rumbled. "She is a mere fanciful human."

Blue eyes widened, but Kagome clocked onto what he was doing immediately. It lingered there under his calm features that he tried to harden into contempt.

He was playing the villain. For her.

Likely out of some misguided desire to keep everything at the status quo, because he believed it would be easier on them both if they weren't seen as friends. Everything halted inside Kagome. She felt like she'd been coasting through her days without really questioning it.

"Bastard!" Inuyasha snarled, ripping his sword from its sheath.

With a strange sense of calm, Kagome raised her head. She then stepped in between them both, placing her fingers atop Sesshoumaru's sharp, transformed ones.

"That's enough," she said quietly, lowering his large hand.

"K-Kagome? What're you doing? Get back!"

"I said; that's enough, Inuyasha!" Kagome grit her teeth, tension gripping her fiercely- until it abruptly left all at once, rendering her exhausted.

"We need to talk," she said softly, gazing at him meaningfully.

Inuyasha blinked, lowering his sword as his ears pricked and lowered.

Turning to Sesshoumaru, she smiled weakly. "We're going to have to cut this meeting short, sorry."

"We can always reschedule."

Kagome gentled, a warmth pooling inside her that she hoped to revisit soon. However, the Daiyoukai hadn't made it three steps away before familiar laughter spread over the vast countryside beyond their hill.

Miasma leaked out of the sky, waning flowers on their stalks and killing the grass, rendering it dulled brown.

Naraku appeared in all his true, villainous glory- at exactly the wrong time nobody wanted to deal with him. However, absolutely no one could ignore this fight, as a completed Shikon jewel rested in the palm of his hand.

Kagome's stomach dropped. She automatically accepted her bow and arrows from Sango and Miroku when they arrived, looking grim-faced and out of breath. Inuyasha lifted his sword again with determination blazing in his eyes.

The Final Battle had begun.

---

They say 'time heals all wounds.'

Kagome would like to have a word with whoever 'they' were because this sentiment proved false. Time muted pain. It concealed it under layers of civilian life, responsibilities, family dinners and get togethers with friends, but her deep wound never really healed. The pervasive desire to return back to a life that had been stolen from her.

She couldn't say it had been perfect in the Feudal Era but she still missed it terribly. Missed her friends, travelling, exploring, strengthening her burgeoning powers.

She also missed someone she hadn't anticipated longing to speak to.

After killing Naraku and getting her hands on the jewel, Kagome had made her wish;

'I wish Kikyo would come back to life.'

It had resulted in trapping Kagome in the future, the Bone Eater's Well closing, barring entrance. She'd figured the look on Inuyasha's face had almost been worth it, his gob-smacked expression kind of hilarious.

Perhaps the wish had been an out of nowhere impulse. Who knew. All Kagome knew was that a part of her had died that day on the hill with the telescope- the candle of first love snuffing out. She still cared for Inuyasha of course, she wouldn't have wished Kikyo alive otherwise, but the act said something. They'd never be anything more than friends.

After trying her hand at dating a few boys in class, Kagome had broken up with them and remained single for the better part of a year. There wasn't anything wrong with them, per se, but it had felt disingenuous.

It wasn't them she wanted to speak to.

At the age of 18, the miko got her chance. Inexplicably, and without warning or provocation, the well reopened again one night.

Kagome stirred awake, lured downstairs by the promise of magic. It pulsed strongly like before, so she slid her legs over the rim of the well without fear that it would be a oneway trip.

Leaping down while still clad in her patchwork style pyjamas, dark hair whipped upwards as blue light swallowed her whole.

Immediately the smell of city smoke was replaced with distinct smells of petrichor. Fresh scents guided her feet to land gently on the bottom of the well, looking up at dark, cloudy skies.

Climbing out and feeling moisture lingering in the air dampening her hair, Kagome looked up, breath hitching.

The clearing looked exactly the same. Achingly nostalgic.

It sprawled empty and lonesome, awaiting her in complete silence. Kagome noticed the dirt disturbed around the well from how often she and Inuyasha had travelled through it.

Breath catching, hot tears stung her eyes.

Laughing weakly to herself, Kagome tried to rub them away in vain, more rolling down her cheeks. Unlike the usual times though, these were happy tears. Relief threatened to buckle her knees.

"I'm home," she shuddered.

"...Welcome back."

Snapping her head up, Kagome swallowed an embarrassing noise, warmth melting into her expression. She took a step, and then another, walking over to Sesshoumaru as he stood a little ways away, moonlight highlighting his hair.

"Y-you're here?"

Golden eyes flitted over her face, gentling a touch. He reached out and brushed pale knuckles against her jaw, catching tears upon it. "I sensed you. As usual, you blubber too loud, miko."

Choking on a sob, Kagome laughed, catching his hand and pressing her lips to the inside of his wrist.

Sesshoumaru stiffened, attention zeroing in on her. Kagome held his gaze as best she could with watery eyes, smiling.

"Date me," she stated plainly.

No second-guessing, no 'will they, won't they?' no more pining or questioning. Kagome refused to do it again.

He seemed somewhat taken aback by her forwardness for a moment, before a strange kind of intensity livened his expression. He wound his single arm around her waist, pulling her in close.

"What boldness, Kagome," he purred, lips ghosting the side of her ear. "But you can do better than that. Are you certain that is all you want from me?"

Kagome blushed hotly, shifting to catch his eye and smirk. "I just made it back here after three years. Let me catch my breath," she teased, hooking a hand under his yellow obi. "But...yeah, I might want more soon, you jerk."

Sesshoumaru rumbled with approval, swiftly ending the charade of teasing and swooping in. His lips claimed hers firmly, and it was not a kind, sweet kiss but she didn't mind, pressing herself against him. His tongue delved into her mouth, brushing against hers as a clawed hand snaked up into dark hair, gripping tight.

Smiling against his mouth, Kagome trying her best to keep up with his rough kiss as he bit and sucked her lips, inhaling her scent. He almost seemed elated, kissing her so quick and eagerly, like he'd been starving for it.

Out of curiosity, Kagome slid her palm over his chest, finding his heart racing.

Sesshoumaru broke away to plant heated kisses against her neck. He panted, the hand in her hair shaking with want of her.

Kagome stared, slowly looping her arms around his shoulders. "You...want me?" she said quietly like an obvious revelation. It felt so strange and surreal.

He huffed with amusement against her lips. "Hn, it appears you have made me fanciful, miko."

Brightening and smiling widely, Kagome pushed up on tip-toe. Guiding his mouth down with palms cradling his striped cheeks, she kissed him again, pouring every powerful emotion left unsaid into it.

End

[phoenixyfriend]

More "de-aged Taka and T7 end up in the Warring Clans Era as Founders' wards" AU

“That’s a thing?” you ask. The answer is yes.

Uh. Kind of. Deaging Team Seven for the sake of tossing them back in time for a Founder to adopt is pretty common, but I’m trash for Taka so this AU started with me brainstorming the asshole team.

I am falling more and more in love with the idea of Tobirama ending up with custody of Team Taka somehow. He’s a science dad, but like. Marginally more ethical than Orochimaru.

Everyone around them is like "This is a terrible idea and it's all going to end horribly" and he's just like "Ah, these are now my children."

I've read so many "Team Seven time-travels and is de-aged, get adopted by the Founders" or "a Founder time-travels forward and adopts Naruto, subsequently picking up the others" and they're good but I now want the same plot with an even more dysfunctional collection of... eldritch mishaps? The AO3 feel of "I want this fic I just read, again, but a step to the left so it feels fresh and new"

I'm considering the tent of tranquility idea (courtesy of @sloaners​) and I've come to the decision that Tobirama's... probably going to end up with Several Holes in it, and burns, and cuts, because Karin and Suigetsu never stop fighting, and if they're fighting, they're not paying attention to how soon Juugo's going to lose his grip on control.

"Hm. Tobirama?" "Anija." "Where did you get children?" "They showed up." "One of them looks like an Uchiha." "He does." "Two of them are trying to kill each other." "That's normal." "Are the Uchiha going to accuse us of stealing a clan child?" "Probably." "...Tobirama, did you steal these children?" "No."

(It's not kidnapping if they show up and break into your house first.)

(Also none of them are particularly pressed to ditch the Senju and find their clans. Maybe eventually. Not now.)

They’re assholes but Karin is, even at Supposedly Age Three, babbling at Tobirama about proper lab protocol and chemical reactions and isn’t that just the most adorable thing?

Very few people find Karin as adorable as Tobirama does, because Karin knows more ways to kill a person than most adult shinobi, because most adult shinobi don’t know about things like flesh-eating diseases and specialty poisons from the other side of the continent that can only be refined via chemical processes that won’t exist for another three decades.

Juugo is a sweetheart. Best child. Then he loses his mind but it’s okay, Sasuke is there. Do the Senju trust the clearly-Uchiha child to control the much larger five-year-old? No. But they don’t have any better ideas right now, so.

Tobirama: Hm, we should do something about that. Karin: Here’s a list of ideas and things that have already been tried. Tobirama: Thank you, small child. Where did you get this? Karin: ... Tobirama: Fair enough, let’s see what we can do.

Suigetsu is a little terror because not only is he a Massive Jerk but he also has better control over water than most adults. Mostly because he is water. It’s very hard to find him when he’s avoiding chores.

Karin clings to Mito sometimes because Family! and then Hashirama tries to tease Tobirama about being upset that one of his students/children has ditched him. Hashirama ends up moping in a corner because Tobirama snaps at him, unsurprisingly.

IDK if we have like any canon for Touka beyond skill with genjutsu, but going off of the fanon that she used a naginata, I’m going to say that Suigetsu keeps trying to challenge her to Blade Fights and she’s just like Neat, A Tiny Murder Machine.

Sasuke is very quiet for the most part and Dramatically Broods On Rooftops And In Trees and Hashirama is just like YES YOU REMIND ME OF MY BROTHER AND ALSO MY BEST FRIEND and Sasuke hides.

Sasuke does not need another Naruto, thank you.

Sasuke ends up hanging out with Mito, I think? Like yeah, sure, she’s an Uzumaki, but she’s chill and refined and calm and she has really good tea in stock. Sure he has to learn fuuinjutsu to have an excuse to hang out with her, but that’s fine. It’s interesting. Karin does it too, sometimes.

tbh that probably leaves Hashirama to hang out with Juugo? Juugo isn’t great at Excite but he is great at nature so I feel like Hashirama would be stars-in-eyes about Juugo talking to birds the way Hashirama talks to trees, and Hashirama just gets him a chicken coop like HERE. FRIENDS.

But back to the suspected child theft.

Hashirama is like “That is... clearly an Uchiha. They are going to find out, Tobirama! Someone is going to figure out we have--” “Sasuke, show him your other eye. Yeah, the one you cover.” “...” “Okay, go back to playing.” “...Tobirama.” “Yeah?” “That was a Rinnegan.” “You know those rumors that the only way to get a Rinnegan is to mix the Uchiha and Senju bloodlines?” “It’s true?” “No idea, Sasuke won’t tell me anything about his parents other than their names, and he’s three, but even the chance of it being true means we have an arguable claim.” “...that’s not going to be enough to convince the Uchiha.” “The theory is but one weapon of many in the upcoming battle of wits.” “Tobirama--” “Now if you’ll excuse me, Anija, I need to go make sure Suigetsu doesn’t flood the training grounds again.”

tbh I can’t remember who made the original comment in canon about the Rinnegan being achieved via Senju/Uchiha babies but it’s funny to use here so I’ll pretend it’s a common rumor that nobody actually believes

MEANWHILE WITH THE UCHIHA Madara found and took custody of Team Seven and company, mostly because they’re like... jounin-level despite being less than three feet tall.

It involves a lot of Madara going "I want My New Children to love me!" and being sorely disappointed by half of them. Poor fucker got stuck with Naruto, Sakura, Sai, Kakashi, Yamato, and Obito.

(KakaYamaObito are deaged by the time-travel to 10-13ish. The kids are deaged to 3-4. Everyone has memories to just after the fourth war or so.)

Karin sensed T7 and tagalong pretty much the second they popped out of Kamui, and told Sasuke, but he correctly guessed that Naruto would hunt him down eventually, and said they should enjoy the peace and quiet while they had it.

Sai pulls emotionless creepy smiles in an attempt to freak out Madara but since Madara's whole thing initially was "less children in war," he's... mostly just sad. Izuna wants to know who made his brother cry.

Madara makes a vaguely misogynistic comment that's typical for the period and Sakura just. Breaks his tibia.

Naruto is genuinely trying to treat Madara with the kind of respect a caretaker that Attempts To Care And Do Good By Them deserves, because Naruto is a good egg, but he's... three again. Which means he's a Hellion.

The literal toddlers (Naruto and Sakura are three-ish, Sai is four-ish) are, in fact, toddlers, so nobody really expects them to be able to do anything. Nobody bothers to test them beyond the basics of like. Can walk? Can talk? Can maybe hold knife? Like don’t get me wrong, they’re very competent toddlers, but their hands can barely wrap around a kunai. Their bodies are tiny. Their bones only just stopped being soft!

That said, the “tweens” (re: adults who got deaged but Less) have to get tested for their skills. Kakashi downplays himself to what he imagines a semi-competent eleven-year-old to be capable of. He thinks of, like, Neji maybe? Good, but not suspiciously good.

Obito enters an intangible state and refuses to participate. He has a Mangekyo. His body is half-Zetsu. Stop bothering him. He doesn’t want to do anything. They assign him babysitting duty for Team Seven since he can obviously defend pretty well, and Kakashi vouches for his abilities as a fighter.

Yamato decides to try to be just a little worse than Kakashi but at one point he panics and does Mokuton on instinct and now the entire Uchiha compound is screeching because did they just steal a Main Family Senju kid by accident?

Yamato: Should I tell them I was a science experiment? Kakashi: No.

Pranks galore! None of the other time-travelers even try to stop Naruto, except maybe Yamato.

Obito at the Uchiha compound is mostly "I don't want to participate" and then just uses Kamui to be intangible until people leave him alone. If it's not another time-traveler or Madara, he's not interested. He doesn't even care that much about Sai or Yamato, actually, so if it's not an original T7 member, he doesn't care, and if it's Madara, he's just here to make things Difficult.

The Kyuubi wanders up to the Uchiha compound one day and everyone's preparing for a battle, even Madara isn't confident that he can-- [BANG] "KURAMA!" [delighted squealing]

Naruto now has a pet. The entire clan is terrified. Kurama pokes his nose at Naruto's stomach and disappears into the memory of a seal.

Madara, frantically writing a letter to Hashirama "What do I do if my toddler is possessed?!?"

Hashirama: You have a toddler?!?!?! OMG you should organize playdates with Tobirama's kids! Madara: I'M GOING TO QUESTION THAT LATER, PLEASE HELP WITH THE POSSESSION THING

Kurama hunts down Naruto, and the Jinchuuriki situation is very much in the realm of "Dis Mine" Also a bit of "If I'm in the brat, there's at least one Mangekyo user in hearing distance who can and will risk his life to prevent brainwashing. (Kakashi. It’s Kakashi.)

Naruto: Kurama's one of my best friends! Every time traveler: Yeah, that tracks. Madara: [teakettle screeching]

Per @firebirdeternal​: I'm just loving the visual of Giant Nightmare Terror Kurama kneeling down and pressing his nose to Naruto's Smol Chubby Toddler self and closing his eyes while Naruto pets him and giggles and every single battle-ready Uchiha is just. "wat"

Everybody else: Cool so Madara adopted a witch Uchiha Elders: We need to be careful of this horrible creature The younger generation of Uchiha: Okay that was weirdly serene and adorable and frankly the brat is really likeable when he's not being adhd as hell I think this is actually pretty dope.

Madara really wants to be a Good Dad but he has no idea how he ended up being "a dad" in the first place. He just! He cares a lot about this random assortment of kids! Some of them are from prominent clans and there should be search parties for the Senju kid with the Mokuton, or the Hatake brat, or the Uzumaki that doesn't look Uzumaki but definitely feels Uzumaki.... and SURE the only Uchiha of the bunch is a stranger who hates him for no reason Madara can come up with, but! He wants to be a good authority figure!

At least the Uzumaki appreciates that he's trying.

Seriously, though, there are clan kids and nobody’s looking for them, what’s up with that?

Kakashi still has a prize copy of Icha Icha and nobody in the Uchiha compound does a thorough check of his reading material until like three months in.

He is blamed for Naruto developing the Oiroke, because where ELSE would a toddler get such ideas? (Yamato and Obito both tell him he brought this on himself.)

Naruto waits until a Big Important Meeting lets out, something about tithes or a merchant contract, and just pulls a Harem no Jutsu in front of the entire group of Elders And Main Family. First he does a Mass Shadow Clone, which makes everyone turn on Sharingan because Fancy New Techniques to steal! Sure, they were late on the shadow clones, but the kid is clearly gearing up for something! The something is Oiroke.

Anime Nosebleeds everywhere. Most of the elders were hit. Izuna was hit. Madara is not bleeding from the nose, but he is very upset about having semi-accidentally sharingan-memorized his weird adoptee’s Sexy Older Female Alter Ego. There is yelling.

Naruto’s like “Oh, I missed some!” and decides to try again with Reverse Harem no Jutsu because there are old ladies among the Elders, and maybe some straight women representing a guild, and maybe some gay guys he missed! Madara is still not bleeding. (He’s very demi and tbh Naruto only would have succeeded if he’d tried to use Hashirama’s face. Naruto does not know this. He just figures Madara is ace like Sasuke and that no variant is going to work.)

Izuna gets another nosebleed and is just like “Well, this is not how I planned on coming out as bi, but--” “Izuna, I literally do not care about you being bi as long as one of us has an heir at some point, I’m more upset about the fact that my child has been corrupted!”

Back in the Senju compound, there is... a lot of screaming, honestly, but every time Karin and Suigetsu start trying to kill each other again, Tobirama just shrugs and tells them not to break anything.

Very easy-going caretaker, really. He's got some very deadly toddlers in hand, but they're still just toddlers.

Sasuke: Yeah, I might want to go see my clan at some point. Suigetsu: Yeah, I might want to go see my clan at some point. Karin, clinging to Mito: Yeah, I want to go see my clan at some point. Juugo: Please never, ever take me to my clan. Ever. Please. I'll stay with Sasuke, thank you.

Naruto breaks out of the Uchiha compound the first time he enters Sage Mode, several months in (it took a while to get the privacy) because he feels Sasuke and lbr if Naruto knows where Sasuke is, nothing will stop him.

The Uchiha clansmen cannot catch the errant toddler. They fail to inform Madara until Naruto is already in Senju territory because nobody wanted to admit the toddler outmaneuvered them.

Naruto wasn’t sure how to get into the Senju Compound safely so he just goes full Kyuubi, bounds over the wall screaming SASUKEEEEE at the top of his lungs, and then shrinks back down to Tiny Brat size so he could hug his Bestest Friend Ever and cling like a limpet while Sasuke just sighs and stares at the wall.

Sakura ran after him.

Sai painted a bird and Yamato dragged Kakashi onto it to chase Naruto, because Kakashi is at a point of zen regarding Naruto's bullshit and fully trusts the kid to not die.

Obito refuses to look up from whatever he's doing and asks people why they think he cares.

“We told you to look after the toddlers!” “Why would you do that? Seems like poor planning on your part.”

Disappears when nobody's looking. Waits until the Ruckus at the Senju compound (where T7 has crashed in to tackle-hug Sasuke and Madara followed in and proceeded to get shouty, and nobody's dead or battling because they're too confused and also it's a comedy) has started to calm down, and then teleports in and demonstrates Mokuton just to make Madara's life harder when the Senju Elders start demanding answers.

His energy is very "I am here to make Madara's life harder" and Madara still doesn't know what he did wrong.

Madara: That brat has a Sharingan! Tobirama: Well THAT one has Mokuton! Obito: Yamato has it too. [angry teakettle noises]

Madara's first response to seeing Sasuke is to turn to Izuna and point aggressively at the toddler while making a tea-kettle noise "He looks just like you!" "He's four, he barely looks like anything!"

Naruto, tugging at Madara's hakama: You need to make a village with Hashirama so I can see Sasuke more often, cuz I don't wanna ditch you guys, but I gotta see Sasuke! He's my best friend! Madara, who is aware that he could fight this child but really doesn't want to, and also knows that a tantrum thrown by Naruto or Sasuke is capable of leveling mountains: Right, yes, we'll get right on that.

tbh Madara wants the village anyway but "The bijuu-whisperer said he wants it to happen" is a great way to push things forward.

[abluescarfonwaston]

Shapeshifter au- 2

Part 1 here

If Geralt recognized him- or more specifically the lute that’d been shattered against filavandrel’s floor- he did a spectacular job of hiding it. Really leaning into that grumpy old loner vibe. He’d have even been tempted to believe that maybe he was the gruff cranky jerk he was pretending to be.

But it was pretend. He remembered the little nest Geralt made him in his saddlebags out of stolen (looted? Violently Acquired?) clothing. How Geralt would let him have first pick of his forage before eating himself.

How Geralt would tell him and Roach stories and let him sleep in the warm curve of his neck and would pet his feathers with a single finger like a second one might break him.

So really he was getting quite annoyed with the whole ‘i don’t want or need company’ stick Geralt kept trying to poke him with. Sure he got the whole not trusting humans thing- he Did okay?- but it felt like a significant step backwards in their relationship on his end at very least.

It was always worse at night curling under Roach’s blanket- I’ve been a horse before Roach I know you don’t need it during this weather but human me very much does thank you- and resisting the urge to shift into a shape Geralt might keep warm. 

Don’t shift in front of people- that is how shifters get caged- do you Want to spend the rest of your life in a cage Julian? As a mages familiar- at best- or their research project- at worst?

That was a far harder rule to remember with half a pack of necrophages- what did their species name matter none of them rhymed with anything- hot on his heels. Hard to remember anything but the desire to be unnoticed and not be eaten.

That always made him feel small. Being prey. He hardly noticed the shift down as he scrambled to the tree roots- a cat- then between them - a squirrel- and finally into a tiny space under one only fit for a mouse.

His heart was racing a thousand beats a minute- which was fairly close to the standard for a creature of this size actually- and shook with the necrophages ripping and snarling and clawing and- oh thank Melitele- dying.

Listened as finally- finally- the forest went quiet. As the noise of life slowly refilled the empty space. Only to be broken once more.

“Jaskier?”

He snuck from his hiding spot, trying to survey the mess of the necrophages from a tree root. He couldn’t see much of anything with these eyes but it stunk terribly.

He didn’t want to be big. He wanted to be small and tucked away somewhere safe but he forced himself to. Geralt had followed him here, knew he wasn’t dead, and if he didn’t show up soon - well- Geralt would have questions he couldn’t answer.

So a mouse ran to the far side of the tree and a squirrel dashed between and up one and a boy in a beautiful blue outfit clung to the trunk.

Still too small. Jaskier wasn’t this small. But it was hard to be larger when his heart still raced, slower than before at least- the benefits of going up in size was the natural slowing of his heart felt almost like calming down- but still too fast. 

“Are you stuck?” Came Geralt’s voice when he eventually noticed him.

“Stuck?” His voice broke- too high, still to small- and he covered it with a laugh. “What kind of person gets stuck in a tree Geralt? I can easily get down whenever i want.” He said arms wrapped tightly around the trunk.

“Oh can you?”

“Easily.” He assured.

“Care to demonstrate?”

He looked up at the canopy. “Maybe later.”

Geralt let out a disbelieving snort and several seconds later he heard him scaling the branches up to him.

“Let go.” He wanted too. He did. But he couldn’t. Limbs locked around the tree.

Geralt tugged on the back of his doublet. It felt almost like being scruffed. His locked limbs released.

Geralt hauled him from the tree, paused as his feet hit the ground - debating something- before picking up his blade, shifting him on his shoulder, and walking back to Roach.

It wasn’t quite as good as being held in the palm of Geralt’s calloused hands. But it was good. The steady heavy thump of geralt’s feet calming his heart, finally allowing his limbs to reclaim those last few inches of height. 

Geralt dumped him on a log next to Roach, checking her over for injury.

“My hero!” He called after him, a hand pressed against his heart half mockingly.

Geralt turned away with a dismissive snort and he ran his hand over the healed break in his arm.

His hero. Protector of those who were not strong.  He’d make sure the world knew that.

[writewithurheart]

Hearts of Kyber

a/n: Hello lovely readers!! I’ve been working on this work for the last couple months (and especially the last couple days). It has been an absolute pleasure working with these amazing artists who are astounding. I hope you love what we’ve put together!!

Corporalki: @kazandthecrows

Materialki: @anubem (art link) @generalstarkov (art link) @pijoshi (art link) @mitdemadlerimherzen (art link | art link 2) @erandraws (art link) @nannadoodles (art link) 

Summary: When an Imperial pilot defects, the Rebellion sends its best spies to find out what he knows. They discover the existence of a planet-destroying weapon known as the Death Star and a scientist who holds the secrets to its only weaknesses. Guided by the pilot, Wylan, and a former storm trooper, Matthias, Kaz Brekker leads a team to uncover the secret that can save the Rebellion before it’s crushed for good.

A Grishaverse Rogue One AU for the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 

Read on AO3 or below the cut 

Part I

Inej barely remembers those early days with her family living in the heart of a city. She gets flashes of memories - playing with dolls, toddling after her father, parties full of boring adults who couldn’t care less about her. What she thinks of when she remembers her family is what came after: the travelling band of performers they joined. It’s there that she felt comfortable. The troupe was her family: they encouraged her, taught her tricks of the trade, and were the ones who trained her as an acrobat. They travelled from system to system, performing in cities and small villages alike, on hot planets and cold. She had careful rules to follow about her interactions whenever they landed. 

Despite all the restrictions, she remembers feeling carefree. The caravan was her domain and she was empress. The day her life changed was just like any other. She remembers her mother running a hand over her hair, whispering that they were going down into town. Her sleepy head full of cotton can’t remember her exact words, just the feeling of warmth, the comfort of routine. Only recently - on her eighth birthday - had she earned the right to sleep in instead of joining her parents’ customary outing.  

Sometimes in her waking hours, she forgets that happened years ago and in her half-waking state she thinks she can still hear her mother’s soothing whisper and her father patting her hand as he tucks her treasured stuffed bear under the blankets of her bed so she has company. 

Inej’s eyes fly open as the harsh lights of simulated daylight jolt her unrelentingly from her sleep into the cold reality of her life. 

She rolls up to a seated position and runs her arm over her sleepy face. She makes no effort to make herself presentable and glares at her arm with the repulsive peacock feather tattoo. It’s been eight years since that morning when her whole life burned around her, her whole extended family vanished in the blink of an eye and she was sold into the slave markets of the Hutts before she was even aware what that meant. 

“Inej Ghafa, the mistress will see you now,” a mechanical voice says over the speaker hidden in her room. Luxurious drapes and curtains cover the mechanical aspects of the room, but can’t hide the prison-like nature of a room without windows in a pleasure house. This has always been Inej’s cage. 

Of course, to the Empire, this isn’t slavery. She has an indenture that she’s working off, this was a choice she made. Inej stands. The words are bullshit. It’s a pretty story told by those who believe themselves to be above such terrible things just because they use different words. Inej is old enough to know what happens in the different rooms of the pleasure house she currently calls home, but still too young to be expected to participate fully. But she knows her days are numbered. 

Girls in this trade grow up quickly. She’s still a tease, only suffering a a groping hand here, a leer there, the occasional bit of voyeurism which makes her skin prickle and means she can never feel comfortable in any room, including her own.

Inej dresses with practiced movements in the ridiculous trappings Madam Helene requires. There are far too many bells on the outfit, too many dangling bits that can tangle for it to really be the exotic outfit Helene claims the clients want. She hates the way the silk feels against her skin when it used to mean the soothing comfort of performance attire. 

For now, her role is to just be an ornamentation for the pleasure house, but madame makes sure she knows what could happen the moment she steps a toe out of line. She’s not above selling Inej off before her time, the cost of which would do nothing to lower the exorbitant cost of her supposed indenture.  

Inej keeps her head down and walks quickly to the main room. In the early hours, there are few patrons who might be looking for a companion, but Inej has learned to keep her head down in any case. She’s short and skinny - underdeveloped to most tastes - so aren’t many interested in her and the ones that are she should avoid with even more care.  

There’s a boy in the room with Helene: a boy with a familiar cane. Inej is so surprised to see him that she forgets to look away meekly when his dark eyes meet hers. She tilts her head in curiosity. Last she saw, he was slipping out of a back hallway which she knew allowed Helene to eavesdrop on clients as they spent the night with girls, or that she offered to well-paying customers who took pleasure from that sort of thing. 

He looks just as cold as he did that night, but she vividly remembers the surprise in his eyes when she spoke from over his shoulder. He wasn’t a regular customer at the brothel but he was on good terms with a couple members of the staff and she’d seen him exchange kruge for information on more than one occasion. Last she saw him, she’d offered him help. 

“Ah, there’s my little Suli Lioness.” Madam Helene smiles benevolently, but her perfume chokes Inej as she wraps an arm around her. “Inej, do you know who this is?” 

“They call him Dirtyhands,” she answers, voice proper and meek as Helene likes. All the other girls have told her not to ask questions any time she tries to find out more. She can’t help but wonder if offering herself to him was a mistake, but she knows this place will kill her if she doesn’t find a way out. 

“Hmm…,” Madame hums. She turns to the boy with a set face and Inej’s chest tightens in apprehension. “I’m afraid your offer will not be accepted, Mr. Brekker. Inej is precious to me.” Her bejeweled fingers dig into Inej’s shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly part with her.” 

The boy raises an impeccable eyebrow. “I was under the impression our negotiations were finalized.” 

Helene releases an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you silly boy. Did you know the Empire has offered quite the reward for you?” 

Inej tenses. She knows that Madame is fickle in her alliances, but she’s never openly invited storm troopers into her house: they don’t pay well. 

“You’d better run, little boy, if you want to get out of here before they can grab you.” 

Two doors into the main room slide open with a whoosh of air to reveal armored bodies with blasters levelled at the boy. Inej’s quick eyes note that the door closest to Brekker has no guard, instead being left clear if he wants to escape. If she were him, she would be running but instead he looks bored as he stares back at Madame. He lifts his wrist to check his time piece, an old fashioned analog device that hasn’t been used in decades. 

There’s a pulse of static followed by a volley of blaster shots. Inej jerks down out of the way but is shocked to see that none of the shots were aimed at them. 

“You should have taken the money, Helene,” the boy shaking space dust from his jacket. “We could have continued this lucrative partnership.” 

Madame pales and looks around at the rumpled crew of men who are all standing around. Most have holstered their guns, but a tall dark-skinned man walks up to them and gestures Helene back away from Inej. Madame drops her grip as if she can’t get her distance fast enough. She turns to the boy. 

“Please! You have to understand, the troopers would have killed me if I didn’t.” 

The boy looks at her impassively before shrugging. “Per Haskell is still willing to buy out her indenture. I’m sure we can agree on a more reasonable price.” 

Inej snorts. She can’t help it. They’re literally haggling over the price of her indenture after not killing one another. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. The boy looks over at her. Although his face is a mask which reveals no secrets, Inej sees a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes before he focuses again on Madame Helene. 

“Congratulations,” the dark-skinned man who shooed Madame Helene away says, leaning down to her, even as his eyes stay on the boy and madam. “You’re being rescued.” 

She looks around at the rag tag group she’s now willing to bet are Rebellion spies and wonders if this will actually be any better. Beyond them, she spots a couple of Helene’s girls with their bloodshot eyes, thin skin and haunted looks. It’s enough to remind her that is it. This is what she wants: a chance to save her father and get revenge on the Empire which has caused her so much pain. 

Inej straightens as much as she can. It looks like she’s joining the rebellion. 

...

Three years later… 

“You ever wonder if Kaz is actually a demon?” Jesper asks speculatively. He points his blaster to the sky and stares down the barrel. It’s in the best possible order he can make it. The sights are calibrated, the lazer refined and the trigger pull smooth. He couldn’t ask for a better weapon. 

Other than it’s partner, which is still in his holster and also freshly taken care of. 

“You’re supposed to be watching his back, Jesper,” the Wraith’s voice reminds him, tinged with annoyance. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling over so he can look over the side of the building to where Kaz is meeting with his contact. “You know, I’m still not sure why all three of us need to be here for one pilot.” 

“If you want, we can always switch positions,” Inej offers. “You can play get-away pilot.” 

Jesper snorts as he lines up his sight again. “Yeah, right. That’s all yours, spider. Besides we needed the sniper position here, remember?” 

There’s a long suffering sigh over the radio and Jesper grins. Through the scope his eyes bounce to Kaz. He can’t see his face, but Jesper knows he’s got that stone face of annoyance, which, as it turns out, is not so different from his normal ambivalent face except that it includes the slight twitching of the vein at his temple. 

Inej claims he’s seeing things, that it’s all in Jesper’s head. According to her, Kaz’s tell has to do with his eyes or some other sappy thing like that because they’re both secretly in love with each other. Jesper thinks they’re both idiots and he likes to think that one day, if he makes a bad enough joke or an inappropriate enough comment, that vein on Kaz’s temple is going to burst. 

He thinks it's good to have goals like that. It makes the dirty work they do for the Rebellion more palatable. 

“I still think it would be better to have me on the ground,” Inej grumbles. “You know I’m no good at the piloting stuff.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to come. If I recall, Per Haskell offered you leave and instead you came here.” Jesper notices the stiffening of Kaz’s shoulders. His informant is still calm, if a little jumpy-looking, so he knows that’s not the source of the tension. His eyes scan the street and see nothing alarming. 

Jesper hasn’t asked but he knows there’s something going on here that they’re not sharing. Inej has been wound tight since they started to hear rumors of an Imperial weapon strong enough to take out a planet. While it was still just a rumor, Kaz and Inej were chasing the thread down with a vengeance. It’s what brought them back to this city world where they had found Inej three years ago. 

Now if only his sneaky little cohorts would share the secret with him. That would be great. 

Jesper grumbles to himself. Like that would ever happen. He looks through the scope of his rifle. The tell tale of white of stormtrooper armor catches his eye and Jesper focuses on the location. The odd trooper presence in a city like this isn’t necessarily something to make note of. It happens on occasion, but this is a pair and he can spot another pair making their way in what looks to his eyes like search patterns. 

“Heads up, Kaz. We might have company.” Jesper says as he keeps an eye on the soldiers. “Moving in pairs. Looks like a search pattern.” 

They’re too far away to hear the words that are spoken, but Jesper can guess what it is from here: “Hey! You there!” 

He watches as Kaz drags their contact into an alley as the storm troopers converge from two directions. 

“I’ve lost sight of you, Kaz.” Jesper sights the troopers through his scope and taps a finger against the trigger. Killing troopers brings more attention than Kaz likes. They work in secret. “Exit strategy?” 

Through Kaz’s comm he hears the panicked pleas of Kaz’s contact swiftly silenced by a laser bolt. He grimaces at the additional body count as Kaz’s gravelly voice comes over the comm. 

“I’ve got it. Jesper, join Inej. Meet me at the rendezvous point.” 

He takes one last look at the troopers closing in on the alley and then stands. If Kaz needed help, he would ask. The man had a thousand and one plans. There’s no way he didn’t account for a way out of this trap. It sounds like he’s probably climbing, a feat considering his bum leg from when he landed on it wrong a couple years back and it never healed properly.  

“You know, for once I’d like one of these missions to go smoothly,” Jesper mutters under his breath as he hightails it back to the ship. He stows his blaster and keeps it from sight as he moves through the crowds. Seedy cities have been a second home to him for years, since he left the Imperial flight academy, if he’s being honest. He liked the anonymity the city gave him. It always felt better than the emptiness of the moisture farm he grew up on. He hates the heat and the sand. 

Oh, God, the sand. 

He walks aboard the ship with the swagger of a drunk who won big at the betting table. He nods jovially to those he passes. There are a couple glances down to the pistols at his waist, but that’s normal on a large port like this one. Intergalactic travel to major cities has always been fraught with trouble and this one isn’t especially savory. They don’t have the clearance for savory. 

Inej sits on the ramp of the ship, sprawled out across it like a cat. She opens her eyes as he arrives and stretches. “Ready to go?” 

“Shouldn’t the get away pilot be ready to run?” Jesper teases as they walk up into the ship and Inej diverts to the cockpit, starting the take off procedure. 

“I spent the last hour bemoaning my terrible coworker who insists on gambling at each port and always staggers back drunk, occasionally with unexpected company. I’ve already got tower clearance to leave. And taking off won’t set any red flags with the Empire so we’re clear.” 

Jesper drops into the copilot chair as Inej goes through engine checks. “You did all that?” 

“You’re not the only one capable of sweet talking people, Fahey.” She shoots him a look and he chuckles. 

“I remember when your first attempt to blend in. Didn’t you end up stabbing someone?” 

Inej scowls at the memory. “And no one has tried to grab my body since then without a threat of a knife point.” 

Jesper chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts as they fly high enough to leave the atmosphere and then drop back down, drifting through the carefully mapped out empty space of blind spots that allow them to drift down to the meeting point. Despite it taking them almost no time to get there, Kaz is already sitting against a crate on the roof of a run down building, cane held out in front of him with his hands crossed on top. 

Jesper moves back toward the loading bay and opens the doors. He leans against the side of the doorway as the ship turns to face Kaz. “Hiya, honey. Miss me?” 

As always Kaz rolls his eyes at Jesper’s attitude as he climbs the ramp. “We’re clean. Any trouble at the port?” 

“Nope,” Inej reports from the cockpit. “Just a couple nosy traders looking for a good time. Sent them after Jesper.” 

“Har har,” he shoots back as the ramp closes with a firm whoosh of pressure stabilizing. He turns to Kaz who has dropped onto the bench and closed his eyes. His lame foot is extended slightly in front of him, a tell that it’s aching from the exercise of escaping the troopers. Jesper can also see where his blaster sticks out from under his jacket, the clip of the holster no longer in place. He definitely used it. “Did you get the intel?” 

Kaz nods. 

“Where are we headed?” Inej asks. From the body of the shuttle, Jesper sees her hand hover over the hyperspeed settings, preparing to change the destination of their jump. 

“The pilot is on Jedha.” 

They both freeze and you could hear a pin drop in the shuttle. Jesper glances at Inej and sees the same worry painted in the lines of her face. “Are you sure?” 

Kaz finally opens his eyes and leans forward. “It’s been confirmed. That’s the second source and this one claims to have actually seen the pilot.” 

“But he’s a defector, why would he go there?” Jesper asks. 

“Jedha’s not a stronghold for the Empire, but they do trade there.” Kaz answers, as if that explains the reasoning. 

“But it’s a Shu stronghold. They’re cut off. We haven’t had contact in years.” Jesper glances at Inej in the cockpit. “Nina was there when the communications shut down. She wasn’t able to get out and no one’s been able to go in.” 

Kaz rams a gloved hand over the top of his cane. “That isn’t strictly true.” 

Inej whips around. “What?” 

He sighs. “We have a way onto the planet. The problem will be finding the defector and getting him to talk to us.” 

“And getting off planet again,” Jesper cuts in. “Or have you forgotten how the Shu seize whoever and whatever they want? There’s a reason we don’t have an outpost there.” 

Kaz stares at him with those cold, blank eyes and then turns toward Inej. “Set the course.” 

For a long moment, Inej doesn’t move. Her fingers tap against the control as she gazes at Kaz with an inscrutable expression on her face for a moment before she turns back to the controls and the ship lurches into hyperspace. 

Jesper crosses his arms as he faces Kaz from across the ship. “You knew we were headed to Jedha.” 

Kaz stares back at him for a moment and then closes his eyes. He leans back against the side of the ship. Jesper wishes he was surprised about the lack of communication. 

He sits down next to Kaz. “This way on to Jedha...does it have anything to do with Nina?” 

Kaz cracks open an eye. He looks Jesper over and shuts them again. “She was able to get one message out since the Shu shut down. The last message that got out - the one that opened a path - the agent was lost. Haven’t heard anything since.” 

“Nina?” 

“Under orders to lay low.” 

“Are we taking her out with us?” 

Kaz’s hands tighten on the head of his cane. “We’ll see.” 

...

There was something happening. Nina looks around the marketplace covertly as she examines the fruit in the stall in front of her. It’s the same bland, slightly bruised fruit that they always have. Two years on this desert planet and she’s still not used to the blandness of the food. She’s missing the lush variety of Aldaraan and the sweets she used to eat by the bushel. There’s no sweets here in Jedha, especially not in the mostly abandoned temple. 

She exchanges a coin for two shrivelled pieces of fruit and a smile with the vendor. She slips off the main thoroughfare and into the archway that leads into the dilapidated temple. Like most of Jedha, it’s covered in a fine layer of sand and dust, and shows the wear and tear of years of war. 

She tosses a piece of fruit to the tall and skulking shadow that leans against the archway. Matthias catches the fruit of the air. He pulls a wickedly long knife from behind his back and cuts the fruit into meticulous pieces, eating with precise movements to stop the juice from creating a sticky mess. 

Nina is far less careful. She bites into the fruit and does her best to stop the overripe fruit from spilling juice down her chin. It’s a messy process and her fingers will end up coated in sugary sweetness. It’s her little act of rebellion that makes Matthias shake his head in her direction, when his eyes aren’t sweeping the plaza. 

“There’s something in the wind,” he says as he slowly eats another slice of his fruit. Nina’s is almost gone. She’s sad for that. 

“Rumors.” Nina glances at the gangsters on the corner of the street with their strange metal suits. They’re looking antsy, searching the street. “There’s not much chatter. Something about an Imperial pilot. Broke through the Shu blockade.” 

Matthias’s eyes drift back across the crowds of people. Nina rearranges her robe and leans against her staff. Two years posing as acolytes of the temple and proselytizing about Sankts has her accustomed to her character. No one bothers with a monk spouting ideas of an old religion they no longer believe in. 

“The Empire is still confined to their kyber shipments,” Matthias observes. He casually cuts the seeds from his fruit. “Their shuttle routes haven’t been altered. The Shu though.” His eyes dart to their locations around the square. “They’re looking for someone.” 

“A defector,” Nina says. 

Matthias finally looks over at her in surprise. “Yours or mine?” 

“Does it matter?” she asks. “Either way, we need to find them before anyone else.” 

“Do we?” Matthias grumbles and slips his knife back into the sheath hidden somewhere on his person. “It’s not like anyone’s come to get us in the last two years.” 

Nina rolls her eyes. They’ve had this argument before. “Come now, druskelle. Where’s that attitude of dedication to the Empire?” 

He snorts. “It died two years ago.” One of the Shu guards moves and Matthias’s attention strays. “Think it’s important enough that they’ll risk their peace with the Shu?” 

Beneath the question is the unspoken one that neither of them have put words to, but they both know is lingering in the back of their minds: Is this defector more important than they are? Nina’s last mission was to get a contact off Jedha to the Rebellion. Matthias had saved her from capture by the Shu and they hadn’t been able to risk an attempt to leave Jedha since then. The Empire had some sort of deal with the Shu that allowed them access to the Kyber mines but that was it. 

“Perhaps it’s time we went to collect tithes, Brother Helvar,” Nina announces. She pulls up the hood of her robes and leans on her staff as she walks out from the temple. Matthias follows behind her with grumbled complaints under his breath. The occupants of the city are familiar with their dynamic, although they’re sure to vary the times they depart the temple. Routines are too predictable. 

Matthias doesn’t speak even as Nina stops to talk with every friendly face she sees. For the first year, he had complained at every moment, even as she explained to him the importance of blending in, of becoming part of the populace. Now he even lets the children climb on him when she stops to share a story about the saints. 

“They’re jumpy,” Lin shares with Nina in whispered tones, her eyes darting around the square even though there don’t appear to be guards around right now. “Jan said he saw stormtroopers preparing to enter the city.” 

Nina performs a blessing on an elderly man. “Any idea what they’re looking for?” 

“A pilot.” Lin shifts her daughter around on her hip. “Imperial pilot. You don’t want to get between the troopers and their goal. The Shu are looking for him too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of their way.” 

Matthias moves closer. “And the pilot?” 

Lin glances at him and then back at Nina. She’s always been more skittish around men. It’s a look Nina’s uncomfortably familiar with and one she knows speaks to a violent past interaction. The way she grips her daughter just a bit closer breaks Nina’s heart. 

Nina nods encouragingly. 

“Down by the old refractory.” Lin freezes up as soon as the words escape her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at what she just divulged. She darts away in a panic, leaving Nina and Matthias to continue to serve the poor with their usual tithes. 

By unspoken agreement, Matthias follows Nina’s lead as she takes them on a winding path. The last year and half of long meandering routes work in their favor as Nina leads them with more purpose. 

It feels good to have a purpose again. She hasn’t had contact with the Rebellion, but if this is big enough that the Empire is willing to fight the Shu for the interloper, then it’s big enough for the Rebellion to also be looking. The Empire has the strength to use brute force. The Rebellion will send Kaz Brekker. Per Haskell would be an idiot to send anyone else. 

As they get closer to their destination, Nina slows her pace and purposefully plays up her monk persona, passing out alms and blessings in equal measure. Matthias moves gruffly in her wake, watching her back in a way that might be suspicious if it hadn’t been his stable characteristic for the last two years. The Shu are used to their dynamic of the devout believer jaded sceptic. They had adopted the personas for safe passage before the Shu blockade and been forced to maintain it since then. 

It was useful, despite neither Nina nor Matthias being well versed in espionage. 

By the time they reach the old refractory buildings, Nina and Matthias are moving at a crawl, speaking to every person they see. Nina’s eyes scan the faces for one that looks out of place, one that screams uncertainty or distrust. 

She gets pointed down a dark alley by one of the urchins after she shares with him one of her precious jojo beans. It’s the closest she can get to her sweets in this city. She glances at Matthias and he nods. His body is intentionally relaxed, ready to move as necessary in response to a threat. 

Nina leads the way into the factory, looking around carefully as they move into the space. She breathes in deeply and sinks into the meditative state. The air around her settles, buzzing with the life force of the inhabitants of the city. In a couple of breaths, she narrows it further so she can feel the interior of the building. 

Matthias mutters under his breath, something about religious mumbo jumbo and insanity. 

Nina turns sideways and opens one eye to glare at Matthias. He rolls his eyes and gestures at her to continue.  

Her use of the Force is unrefined, based more in the faith that it will work than on actual knowledge about what she’s doing. It’s an old religion and the order they’re with is still respected even if not believed in. Okay, so maybe respected is pushing it. They’re disregarded as religious fanatics who don’t do much of anything. 

She follows the light of the Force through the factory, letting it guide her feet, trusting it to protect her from bumping into any of the clutter. Dimly, she senses Matthias grunt as he moves something out of her path before she hits it or it hits her. She keeps her focus on the life signature that shines like a beacon, coming to a stop once they’re in sight of the huddled mass. She opens her eyes and peers into the gloom. 

“We’re here to help you,” Nina says. Her soft voice carries around the large space. She ignores Matthias’s mutter about talking to herself. 

“Who...who are you?” A tremulous voice asks. It sounds younger than Nina expected, more uncertain. She thought a defector would be more hardened, more convinced of their path to go against the Empire in such a way. 

Nina squats down to look at the hunched over figure. Matthias has one hand hovering over his hidden firearm, the other on a dagger. She’s deep in her meditation of the Force and senses no danger from the huddled figure. 

“You’re the pilot, right?” Nina asks instead of answering. 

His eyes look her over, lingering on her and Matthias’s matching robes. “You’re priests?” 

He inches forward. There’s enough light cast on him that his Imperial uniform catches her eye, answering the question he avoids. She smiles softly at him and holds out her hand. Behind her Matthias shifts, disliking her proximity to perceived danger, if she has to guess. 

“Word on the street is you’re a defector. We’re here to help.”  

...

Wylan doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his life. Which is bizarre because this is a desert planet. You'd think it would be warm but instead he's found himself huddled in dark corners, scavenging like a rat for scraps for the last couple days while he tries to escape notice from the Shu. Jedha was supposed to be a safe haven for him, somewhere the Empire couldn't touch. The Shu had tried to grab him first, had detained him and demanded answers to their questions about the Empire. His protests that he wanted to defect fell on deaf ears. Then they'd dragged him into a cave with a beast they called Bor Gullet. 

It's a blur after that. 

He remembers waking in a cell to garbled words, a blurred hologram of his father glaring disdainfully down at him. A comment about the Empire being grateful to the Shu. Wylan doesn't know how he escaped. There's a memory of loud noise, a flash of heat, and dirt. Then it's all dark and cold. 

He'd avoided people after that, stuck to shadows, and only ventured out when the emptiness of his stomach threatened to eat him from the inside out. 

He doesn't even know how long it's been since he escaped the cell...or was released...he doesn't know. 

Then the woman appeared, like an angel out of the darkness and she promises salvation. 

Wylan knows enough of his father's games not to immediately trust the gesture. "Who are you?"  

“We’re with the Rebellion,” she says with a smile. 

The monk behind her rolls his eyes and turns away. They don’t look like any monks he recognises. The only person he’s heard of who truly follows the old religion is the Darkling and Wylan’s not so unfortunate to have ever seen him in person. “You don’t look like Rebels.” 

“He’s right. We don’t,” the man tells her. 

The woman looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in a glare. “Matthias Helvar.” She turns conspiratorially back to Wylan and there’s a friendly glint in her eye that makes him want to trust her. “Once he was the most devout of you all. Rose through the ranks of the Empire almost as high as they come. You want out of the Empire. We can help.” 

Wylan’s eyes drift over the man’s features and there’s something that reminds him of the way General Brum’s men carry themselves, the elite of the troopers he’s only seen from a distance. Wylan wants to string words together but they slip away like soap and water. 

“Will you come with us?” She prompts, yet again. 

He can’t combine the fears and hopes and questions into coherent sense. All he can do is nod in agreement. Whether they harm him or save him, he’ll be dead or caught if he stays here on his own. He needs allies and he’s not in a mental state where he can do much of anything himself. 

“Good,” she says. She pulls him forward and manhandles Wylan into a monk’s robe over his tattered pilot’s uniform. “I’m Nina. This is Matthias. We’re going to get you out of here alive. Good?” 

Wylan nods. She shoves a basket into his hands and drops additional bits of clutter from the warehouse floor into it. 

“We should be heading back,” Matthias rumbles. 

“Walk between us,” Nina instructs, pulling the hood of his robe up. Matthias mimics the movement. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Just stay in step with us. We’ll speak for you if it comes to that.” 

Wylan has enough sense to nod along. He knows talking will only give away his current state of complete confusion. He can see the looks Nina and Matthias exchange in response to his silence. He’s not so lost that he doesn’t understand what’s going on but the thoughts take too long to reach his lips and disappear like fragrance on a breeze. 

The ground is dusty and uneven under Wylan’s feet. It captures his attention as he walks, so different from the metal hallways and corridors he’s used to walking.  His feet catch from where they scrape the ground and he tries to tell his body to lift his feet higher, but they don’t seem willing to respond any more than what they do by instinct. When was the last time he walked on anything that wasn’t steel? 

He’s so preoccupied by swirls of dirt that he walks right into a wall. 

Well, not a wall, but the giant monk - Matthias. He bounces off the man’s back, which feels like the equivalent of walking into a wall. The man doesn’t even move in response to him walking into him at full speed, but Wylan almost falls on his butt, and would if it wasn’t for Nina catching him. 

She steps past him to stand next to Matthias. She pushes him further into the shadows behind Matthias as she looks past him to see what’s grabbed his attention. Wylan shuffles sideways and ducks down so he can look around the hulking figures. 

The white helmets break through his current haze and Wylan stumbles backwards. The Storm Troopers followed him. He can’t allow himself to be captured, not after he finally escaped that place and his father’s restrictive control. 

“Wait!” Nina whispers harshly, but Wylan’s body is moving without his consent. The urge to get away is too strong. It drives him, haltingly, step-after-step through twisting and confusing alleyways. He’s not sure where he’s going except away. If he can get to a port, he’s sure he can fly a ship. 

Another flash of white Imperial helmets send him careening in another direction which leads him into a square. The sudden exposure leaves him disoriented and he spins around looking for another exit as a child is ushered into one house and shutters are slammed shut. Wylan gulps. He walks back and turns, running into someone for the second time. This time the person rocks as he crashes into them, but Wylan’s still the one wheeling back. 

He blinks at the man, carrying some sort of stick. He looks like he could belong here except that his eyes are too intent. It’s the kind of gaze you couldn’t stand for too long but are also scared to look away from. It takes him a second to notice the tiny girl at his side. She’s looking around, causally flipping a blade in her hand. The other rests on a blaster. Now that he realized that, Wylan notices the man is also armed. 

“Wylan Van Eck?” The man asks. 

Wylan blinks at him in shock. He’s helpless to do anything but nod. They’re not Empire and they don’t look like the Khergud who grabbed him, so they can’t be that bad. Or at least are likely better than the alternative.  

“Right. Time to be off. Let Jesper know we’ve got the package.” The man turns abruptly. 

Wylan glances at the girl who steps aside and gestures at him to follow. He hasn’t decided if he will when there are footsteps behind him. He twists back to see who’s following and breathes a little easier when the monks appear. Maybe monks are better than whoever the man is.  

Maybe he’s dead anyway. 

“Oh good. You’re here.” The man says. “We can all go then.” 

Nina smirks from where she’s bent over catching her breath. “Nice to see you too, Kaz. Been ages.” 

...

It’s convenient that they were able to find the pilot and Nina in one place. He would have trouble getting Inej and Jesper out of here with just the pilot. They’d had no communication with Nina, no way to get in contact with her once they were in the atmosphere. Kaz takes it in stride and moves back the way they came. The rest will follow and someone will make sure the pilot comes along with them. 

It would have been a fantastic escape. In and out with no trouble whatsoever. It would have been too lucky for him, so the storm troopers that come streaming racing around the corner where Nina and her friend emerged are hardly a surprise. The real unlucky bit is that they also appear in the two other access points to the square. 

The pilot looks ready to bolt. Nina and the second monk steps forward. Kaz respects the bulk of him and hopes that he’s good in a fight. If it were just him and Inej, they would split up and meet at the rendez-vous. The pilot is going to be the issue. 

“Halt. Surrender or you will be terminated.” 

Inej pushes Wylan behind her and toward Kaz. The boy curls in on himself. How he ever got up the courage to desert the Empire, Kaz hasn’t a clue. Now they just need to get him out of here with whatever valuable knowledge is worth breaking the standoff with the Shu. 

Kaz pushes him into a doorway, out of sight of the blasters. “Stay down.” 

The boy whimpers. 

Nina steps forward, hands raised in a deceptively helpless gesture. “Calm down. We’re all friends here.” 

“Stand down or we will open fire,” the trooper repeats. The entire line readies their weapons. Their blasters might be unreliable and clunky, but with so many firing, they’re bound to hit something. 

“You don’t want to shoot us.” Nina tries again. 

“That’s what you’ve got?” the second monk asks incredulously. 

She glares at him. Kaz watches Inej palm a blade and twirl it effortlessly in one hand. The harsh sunlight glints off the edge of the blade: steel instead of a laser edge many prefer. He knows she likes the way the old fashioned blades feel in her hand. They look like they belong in her grasp. 

Nina steps forward again, closer and closer to the troopers. “You’re not going to shoot us.” 

“Hand over the pilot.” The trooper says. From across the square, Kaz can hear the gun prep to fire. This isn’t working. 

“Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” he drawls from the back of the group. The second monk glares at him, but Kaz just twirls his kane, unbothered. It was going to come down to this anyway. There’s no point holding it off as more backup and fire power arrives to support the troopers. 

Shadows fall across the square and Kaz gets his first look at the notorious Khergud soldiers who have kept Jedha independent for the last two years. “Imperial Troopers. You have no authority in our city. The pilot is ours.” 

Nina, her monk, and Inej grow tense at the new party. Beside him the pilot starts to mutter under his breath, rocking back and forth. 

This actually works to their advantage as the troopers are forced to divert their attention. The Khergud fires directly at the troopers before jumping into the air. The troopers open fire, most on the Khergud, judging them to be the bigger threat. 

Inej seizes the moment to dive forward into the fight, taking out two opponents in moments before she’s engaged by one of the Shu soldiers. She moves like an acrobat, twirling through flailing limbs that breeze past her. She’s a force of nature. 

Kaz is distracted from his awe by a guard landing a few feet away and leaping for Wylan. He dispatches the soldier with a few whacks of his cane. He crumples under a well-placed hit to the temple. 

More troopers race toward the noise. They stop around the corner of an alley, firing from their protective spots and forcing the monk and Kaz to step back to cover. They lob a grenade into the square. Kaz takes two steps forward and hits it back with the metal head of his cane. It soars in a perfect arch back to the troopers, who scramble for cover too late. 

The monk nods in acknowledgment and moves to relieve Nina from her two enemies. Inej falls back as she takes out her opponent and the rest are distracted by Nina and the monk. She moves to stand alongside Kaz, stretching out the muscles she just used as she slips her blades back in their many holsters. The explosion rocks the block which takes out one contingent of troopers but they're met with more troopers and Shu, crawling out of the cracks like cockroaches. 

A moment later shots arc over their heads, rapid fire, each one hitting its target and leaving the recipients incapacitated.  

Kaz relaxes infintestimently. He'd been prepared to dive for cover. His hand twitches toward Inej but he knows she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need him trying to tackle her and throwing off her center of balance.  

A figure emerges along the roofline, a rifle resting against his shoulder. “There were an awful lot of explosions for people who were supposed to be blending in.” 

“I hope you’ve got an exit plan, Brekker,” Nina says. She diverts to the Imperial pilot after a glance at the monk. 

He nods and moves for the alley. “This way.” He glances at Inej and up at the roofline. She nods and follows his tacit directions. Kaz leaves her to do what she does best: cover them from the shadows. 

Kaz walks with purpose through the streets. Now that fighting has broken out, it appears that no one is holding back. Shu are fighting stormtroopers, troopers are fighting the Khergud and civilians are running for cover. Jesper’s  and Inej’s shadows move with them. The monk - who Kaz Brekker suspects is the Druskelle Nina mentioned before she went dark - leads the charge, with his long legs that eat up the ground in long strides. Nina covers their escape with a simple bo staff. 

“Where are we going?” The monk asks as he fires off a round of shots. 

“Left!” Jesper shouts as he crashes to the ground on the back of a Khergud soldier. “I don’t know why we ever thought this was going to be a quiet mission. And I still say we need a demolition expert.” 

“We’re spies, Jesper,” Kaz growls over the sound of battle. 

Jesper shoots him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “But this is so much more fun.” 

“There’s something wrong with you,” the monk mutters. 

“Kaz.” 

He looks sideways, unsurprised to find Inej at his shoulder, silent as always. He follows her gaze upwards and nearly stumbles to a stop. “Jedha doesn’t have a moon.” 

Nina and the monk stumble to a stop. Jesper glances up for a moment. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s too big to be a ship but moons don’t move.” 

“That’s it,” Wylan whispers. The pilot suddenly jolts into motion. “We have to go. Now!” 

Kaz is forced into an ungainly run. He tries not to notice Inej hovering at his elbow, keeping pace with him as they race toward the ship. The Imperial pilot is ahead of them all, heedless of laser bolts. Jesper yanks him back by the collar to direct him to the correct ship. 

As he reaches the ramp, Kaz starts to hear screams. 

“Jesper, get us out of here!” Kaz yells. Inej hits the control to shut the ramp as Jesper guns the engine. 

“What do you think I’m doing, Brekker? Buckle up. This ride’s about to get bumpy.” 

... 

The whole world has turned upside down. Matthias isn’t sure what he’s doing, to be perfectly honest. Staying with Nina was a mutually beneficial proposition. They were stuck on a foreign planet, where the only people they could trust were each other. He’d become accustomed to their partnership and been shocked by how much he relied upon her. Now, looking at this ragtag group - so different from the ordered discipline of the elite Druskelle guard - Matthias is at a loss for how the Resistance has managed to become a thorn in the Empire’s side. 

He will admit that they were, like Nina, surprisingly capable and effective. However, he can’t hide how scandalized he is by their lack of any sort of recognizable chain of command. The trio moves like his old unit in that they’re so familiar with each other, they don’t need to shout out commands. But their actions of Jedha display an alarming disregard for a cohesive plan and seem to thrive on the chaos of the moment. 

“What was that?!” The boy with the cane asks, turning around to stare at the group before his eyes zero in on the unfortunate pilot. 

Matthias hasn’t gotten much from the boy, except that he stepped back from the fighting yet was clearly capable of surviving physical confrontation. Nina and his two companions seemed to defer to him as some sort of leader, which spoke to a sharp mind. Nina called him Kaz, which would indicate one of the high level members of Rebel Intelligence. He’s heard him referenced as a nightmare or a demon, spoken of in whispers and myths more than anything else. 

All in all: Matthias expected someone older. 

“That was the Death Star,” Wylan whispers. His eyes look haunted. 

Matthias frowns. “Impossible.” He starts when five sets of eyes jerk towards him in the silence of hyperspace. He grits his teeth. The word wasn’t supposed to be spoken out loud. “They’re decades away from creating that technology.” 

Wylan is shaking his head. “No. They found a scientist. Got him to create what they needed. I...I was able to get away. To warn the Rebellion. It’s a planet killer.” 

“A planet killer?” The small girl repeats. 

“Is that even possible?” Nina glances at him for confirmation. Matthias has no answer. It was only an idea when he was with the Druskelle last. Brum used to talk about it, but it was never close to a reality. Not then. 

“Why don’t you ask Jedha?” Kaz says. 

“We don’t know that it destroyed the whole planet,” the small girl points out. 

The boy doesn’t look away from where he stares out the window at the white streaks of stars passing in hyperspace. “At the very least, we know it destroyed the city. If the Empire has a weapon like that, we’re left defenseless.” 

“That’s why I was sent to find you,” Wylan says. He freezes when all eyes turn to him and he curls in on himself from his spot beside the pilot. Matthias has spent years in Imperial bases and has no idea how this pilot managed to get into the program, let alone became important enough to have access to this top secret project. It seems highly suspect to him. 

“Sent?” The boy asks, finally turning so his whole body faces the pilot. Matthias does have to admit he cuts an intimidating figure even as he leans on his cane. 

The pilot swallows. “The scientist. I was supposed to get to a contact they had with the Rebellion. There was someone I was supposed to connect with...the Wraith? But I got redirected…” He frowns. The more the pilot seems to search for words, the harder they seem to come. 

Matthias has seen this before. “He was captured by the Khergud. They most likely probed his mind using Bor Gullet. That’s how they dealt with any Imperial or Rebel spies they found.” He leans back against the steel hull. It actually feels good to be back in space again after being grounded for so long. 

It feels like freedom. 

The boy looks at Nina. She nods in confirmation. “It’s true. We only escaped detection because of the temple.” 

“Because all she would talk about was the Force,” Matthias mutters. He adjusts his muscles so they’re loose and he can react in an instant if needed. Nina drops into the space beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow as she settles in like a cat that can get comfortable anywhere. 

“I saved your life,” she says without opening her eyes. 

He grunts and doesn’t let his smile emerge.  

“The Wraith,” Kaz repeats, focusing on Wylan again. “What were you supposed to tell them?”

Wylan still looks nervous. “Well, I was supposed to pass on...a message...There’s a way to destroy it. A weakness.” 

“A weakness?” 

Wylan yanks at his hair. It’s useless to try to force him to remember more in his state. Matthias watches the trio of rebels to see what they’ll do at this obstacle. 

“He didn’t tell me,” Wylan whispers, clearly realizing this might not endear him to his rescuers at this point. “I was supposed to...bring someone back. They wanted...they wanted someone to rescue them, and they would share the weakness. I was just supposed to be the messenger. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 

Kaz scowls and glances at the girl who looks at the man in the pilot’s seat, all having some sort of silent conversation. Matthias watches the interaction with interest.  

“Where is this base?” Kaz finally moves closer, crouching so he can look Wylan in the eyes. 

“Eadu.” 

Matthias vaguely recalls the outpost. Far from most of the known universe, it’s one of the Empire’s research bases. There’s not a huge platoon placed there for protection. It’s a secret base, kept out of the way, and by necessity sees few changes in personnel. There were a couple training missions on the planet to diversify the team’s experiences and analyze security procedures. 

“We don’t have anyone on Eadu,” the girl notes. 

“Because Eadu’s on lockdown. Nothing in or out that isn’t high level.” The boy flying the craft throws over his shoulder. “Out of the flight academy, I only stopped there once because they needed a supply run immediately. They didn’t even let me off the shuttle. To be a pilot there, you’d have to have some pretty impressive clearance.” 

Matthias alters his assessment of the crew that got them off Jedha. To get through the Imperial Flight Academy is impressive. The man also demonstrated impressive aim and combat skills. Despite not being highly regimented, they do appear to be a solid team. He glances down at Nina. 

“So in order to get the information on the weakness, we have to go to Eadu,” the girl says. She’s twirling a knife in her hands, one with a true steel blade like he hasn’t seen in ages. Her comfort with it is another mark in their favor. 

“Jesper’s right. It’s impenetrable. We haven’t managed to get anyone on the inside.” Kaz taps his fingers on the head of his cane. 

“So we go.” The girl shrugs. “We redirect. We need to find a way to beat this thing or millions more are going to die.” 

“Procedure is to report for further orders. We’ve got the pilot.” Kaz looks at her with a heavy look. 

“Matthias can help.” Nina elbows him as she speaks up. 

He scowls down at her as everyone turns to stare at him. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to betray him. 

“I’m not a traitor.” Matthias glares at the lot of them. 

“You’ll help,” Nina says with a self-assuredness he’s come to hate over the last couple of years. Because as irksome as it is, she’s usually right about these things. They both know it. 

“We’re supposed to just trust a stranger on your word?” Jesper asks. 

“Get twisted, Fahey. You know my word is good.” 

Kaz and the woman - whose name Matthias still doesn’t know - have another silent conversation. She turns to look at him, her eyes speculative. Kaz leans closer to her. “You think you can do this?” 

She doesn’t take his eyes from Matthias. Her knives continue the casual twisting in her hand. She shrugs and looks back at the mastermind. “It is our kind of job.” 

Kaz nods. “Jesper, alter course. Van Eck, help get him close without being seen. Matthias, you need to tell us everything you know, and quickly.” 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make your life very unpleasant.” 

“How do you even know the pilot is right? How do you know there really is a weakness? This could be a trap.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jarl Brum would think up to capture Rebel spies.

“Faith,” Nina says. “This is the right choice.” She finally sits up and stretches. 

Matthias rolls his eyes at her religious display. He sighs. “I can tell you what I know. It could still be a trap.” 

“The pilot is Wylan Van Eck. He’s on my list of potential informants. He became an Imperial pilot because of familial connections. It’s how he has access to sensitive information. We know they’re working on something on Eadu. If this is what he says, then we need that information.” The girl explains it in an even voice. 

“And if there isn’t a secret weakness?” 

Kaz and Inej exchange a long look.  

“Then we find another way to blow it up,” Jesper supplies. 

Matthias isn’t sure he likes the looks of glee on their faces. 

“So how do we get in?” 

The girl turns to look at Matthias, her dark eyes just the slightest bit terrifying now that he’s actually getting a good chance to size her up. She tends to fade into the background and let her comrades take charge, but definitely is not to be underestimated. He stares at her and then glances at Kaz. 

“Inej is a ghost,” Nina says. “She can get in and out without anyone noticing.” 

He looks her over, still assessing. This moment, more than any in the last two years of surviving, feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. The last two years he could justify to his superiors: he was surviving a hostile planet, he had to get close to Nina or he would have died, he was trying to learn the secrets of the Rebel scum. This was different. If he does this, he’s helping the Rebel cause. He’s actively going against everything he’s ever learned.

Nina hits him in the shoulder, as if sensing his internal conflict. She twists upright to look at him and raises an eyebrow in challenge. 

He can hear her voice in his head, berating him for his strict no-nonsense rules and his consuming hatred for anything that goes against the order of the Empire. There were countless debates as they marched through Jedha, each an intellectual exercise. He can honestly say that he doesn’t believe the Empire is never wrong, but is that enough to make him give up their secrets? 

“They murdered everyone in Jedha,” she whispers to him softly. “Lin, Mauri, Katya…” She closes her eyes against the pain. 

He wants to wrap her in his arms and pull her close. Nina feels everything so deeply, unable to stop herself from connecting with everyone she meets. He wants to protect from that pain, to comfort her. Those lives lost today. They were innocents. People that should have been protected and instead… 

He opens his eyes and nods his agreement to Nina. 

She grins, life and joy filling her back up as she bounces around in her seat, the way she gets excited whenever they found something reasonably sweet on Jedha. “Matthias meet Inej. Inej, meet Matthais. He’s a little shy but he knows what’s at stake.”

It’s like shedding a piece of armor or throwing off the last vestiges of who he once was. There’s no turning back now, and he has surprisingly little regret as he opens his eyes and asks the first damning question: “Where do you want to start?”

<hr>

Inej barely remembers those early days with her family living in the heart of a city. She gets flashes of memories - playing with dolls, toddling after her father, parties full of boring adults who couldn’t care less about her. What she thinks of when she remembers her family is what came after: the travelling band of performers they joined. It’s there that she felt comfortable. The troupe was her family: they encouraged her, taught her tricks of the trade, and were the ones who trained her as an acrobat. They travelled from system to system, performing in cities and small villages alike, on hot planets and cold. She had careful rules to follow about her interactions whenever they landed. 

Despite all the restrictions, she remembers feeling carefree. The caravan was her domain and she was empress. The day her life changed was just like any other. She remembers her mother running a hand over her hair, whispering that they were going down into town. Her sleepy head full of cotton can’t remember her exact words, just the feeling of warmth, the comfort of routine. Only recently - on her eighth birthday - had she earned the right to sleep in instead of joining her parents’ customary outing.  

Sometimes in her waking hours, she forgets that happened years ago and in her half-waking state she thinks she can still hear her mother’s soothing whisper and her father patting her hand as he tucks her treasured stuffed bear under the blankets of her bed so she has company. 

Inej’s eyes fly open as the harsh lights of simulated daylight jolt her unrelentingly from her sleep into the cold reality of her life. 

She rolls up to a seated position and runs her arm over her sleepy face. She makes no effort to make herself presentable and glares at her arm with the repulsive peacock feather tattoo. It’s been eight years since that morning when her whole life burned around her, her whole extended family vanished in the blink of an eye and she was sold into the slave markets of the Hutts before she was even aware what that meant. 

“Inej Ghafa, the mistress will see you now,” a mechanical voice says over the speaker hidden in her room. Luxurious drapes and curtains cover the mechanical aspects of the room, but can’t hide the prison-like nature of a room without windows in a pleasure house. This has always been Inej’s cage. 

Of course, to the Empire, this isn’t slavery. She has an indenture that she’s working off, this was a choice she made. Inej stands. The words are bullshit. It’s a pretty story told by those who believe themselves to be above such terrible things just because they use different words. Inej is old enough to know what happens in the different rooms of the pleasure house she currently calls home, but still too young to be expected to participate fully. But she knows her days are numbered. 

Girls in this trade grow up quickly. She’s still a tease, only suffering a a groping hand here, a leer there, the occasional bit of voyeurism which makes her skin prickle and means she can never feel comfortable in any room, including her own.

Inej dresses with practiced movements in the ridiculous trappings Madam Helene requires. There are far too many bells on the outfit, too many dangling bits that can tangle for it to really be the exotic outfit Helene claims the clients want. She hates the way the silk feels against her skin when it used to mean the soothing comfort of performance attire. 

For now, her role is to just be an ornamentation for the pleasure house, but madame makes sure she knows what could happen the moment she steps a toe out of line. She’s not above selling Inej off before her time, the cost of which would do nothing to lower the exorbitant cost of her supposed indenture.  

Inej keeps her head down and walks quickly to the main room. In the early hours, there are few patrons who might be looking for a companion, but Inej has learned to keep her head down in any case. She’s short and skinny - underdeveloped to most tastes - so aren’t many interested in her and the ones that are she should avoid with even more care.  

There’s a boy in the room with Helene: a boy with a familiar cane. Inej is so surprised to see him that she forgets to look away meekly when his dark eyes meet hers. She tilts her head in curiosity. Last she saw, he was slipping out of a back hallway which she knew allowed Helene to eavesdrop on clients as they spent the night with girls, or that she offered to well-paying customers who took pleasure from that sort of thing. 

He looks just as cold as he did that night, but she vividly remembers the surprise in his eyes when she spoke from over his shoulder. He wasn’t a regular customer at the brothel but he was on good terms with a couple members of the staff and she’d seen him exchange kruge for information on more than one occasion. Last she saw him, she’d offered him help. 

“Ah, there’s my little Suli Lioness.” Madam Helene smiles benevolently, but her perfume chokes Inej as she wraps an arm around her. “Inej, do you know who this is?” 

“They call him Dirtyhands,” she answers, voice proper and meek as Helene likes. All the other girls have told her not to ask questions any time she tries to find out more. She can’t help but wonder if offering herself to him was a mistake, but she knows this place will kill her if she doesn’t find a way out. 

“Hmm…,” Madame hums. She turns to the boy with a set face and Inej’s chest tightens in apprehension. “I’m afraid your offer will not be accepted, Mr. Brekker. Inej is precious to me.” Her bejeweled fingers dig into Inej’s shoulder. “I couldn’t possibly part with her.” 

The boy raises an impeccable eyebrow. “I was under the impression our negotiations were finalized.” 

Helene releases an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, you silly boy. Did you know the Empire has offered quite the reward for you?” 

Inej tenses. She knows that Madame is fickle in her alliances, but she’s never openly invited storm troopers into her house: they don’t pay well. 

“You’d better run, little boy, if you want to get out of here before they can grab you.” 

Two doors into the main room slide open with a whoosh of air to reveal armored bodies with blasters levelled at the boy. Inej’s quick eyes note that the door closest to Brekker has no guard, instead being left clear if he wants to escape. If she were him, she would be running but instead he looks bored as he stares back at Madame. He lifts his wrist to check his time piece, an old fashioned analog device that hasn’t been used in decades. 

There’s a pulse of static followed by a volley of blaster shots. Inej jerks down out of the way but is shocked to see that none of the shots were aimed at them. 

“You should have taken the money, Helene,” the boy shaking space dust from his jacket. “We could have continued this lucrative partnership.” 

Madame pales and looks around at the rumpled crew of men who are all standing around. Most have holstered their guns, but a tall dark-skinned man walks up to them and gestures Helene back away from Inej. Madame drops her grip as if she can’t get her distance fast enough. She turns to the boy. 

“Please! You have to understand, the troopers would have killed me if I didn’t.” 

The boy looks at her impassively before shrugging. “Per Haskell is still willing to buy out her indenture. I’m sure we can agree on a more reasonable price.” 

Inej snorts. She can’t help it. They’re literally haggling over the price of her indenture after not killing one another. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. The boy looks over at her. Although his face is a mask which reveals no secrets, Inej sees a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes before he focuses again on Madame Helene. 

“Congratulations,” the dark-skinned man who shooed Madame Helene away says, leaning down to her, even as his eyes stay on the boy and madam. “You’re being rescued.” 

She looks around at the rag tag group she’s now willing to bet are Rebellion spies and wonders if this will actually be any better. Beyond them, she spots a couple of Helene’s girls with their bloodshot eyes, thin skin and haunted looks. It’s enough to remind her that is it. This is what she wants: a chance to save her father and get revenge on the Empire which has caused her so much pain. 

Inej straightens as much as she can. It looks like she’s joining the rebellion. 

<hr> 

Three years later… 

“You ever wonder if Kaz is actually a demon?” Jesper asks speculatively. He points his blaster to the sky and stares down the barrel. It’s in the best possible order he can make it. The sights are calibrated, the lazer refined and the trigger pull smooth. He couldn’t ask for a better weapon. 

Other than it’s partner, which is still in his holster and also freshly taken care of. 

“You’re supposed to be watching his back, Jesper,” the Wraith’s voice reminds him, tinged with annoyance. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, rolling over so he can look over the side of the building to where Kaz is meeting with his contact. “You know, I’m still not sure why all three of us need to be here for one pilot.” 

“If you want, we can always switch positions,” Inej offers. “You can play get-away pilot.” 

Jesper snorts as he lines up his sight again. “Yeah, right. That’s all yours, spider. Besides we needed the sniper position here, remember?” 

There’s a long suffering sigh over the radio and Jesper grins. Through the scope his eyes bounce to Kaz. He can’t see his face, but Jesper knows he’s got that stone face of annoyance, which, as it turns out, is not so different from his normal ambivalent face except that it includes the slight twitching of the vein at his temple. 

Inej claims he’s seeing things, that it’s all in Jesper’s head. According to her, Kaz’s tell has to do with his eyes or some other sappy thing like that because they’re both secretly in love with each other. Jesper thinks they’re both idiots and he likes to think that one day, if he makes a bad enough joke or an inappropriate enough comment, that vein on Kaz’s temple is going to burst. 

He thinks it's good to have goals like that. It makes the dirty work they do for the Rebellion more palatable. 

“I still think it would be better to have me on the ground,” Inej grumbles. “You know I’m no good at the piloting stuff.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to come. If I recall, Per Haskell offered you leave and instead you came here.” Jesper notices the stiffening of Kaz’s shoulders. His informant is still calm, if a little jumpy-looking, so he knows that’s not the source of the tension. His eyes scan the street and see nothing alarming. 

Jesper hasn’t asked but he knows there’s something going on here that they’re not sharing. Inej has been wound tight since they started to hear rumors of an Imperial weapon strong enough to take out a planet. While it was still just a rumor, Kaz and Inej were chasing the thread down with a vengeance. It’s what brought them back to this city world where they had found Inej three years ago. 

Now if only his sneaky little cohorts would share the secret with him. That would be great. 

Jesper grumbles to himself. Like that would ever happen. He looks through the scope of his rifle. The tell tale of white of stormtrooper armor catches his eye and Jesper focuses on the location. The odd trooper presence in a city like this isn’t necessarily something to make note of. It happens on occasion, but this is a pair and he can spot another pair making their way in what looks to his eyes like search patterns. 

“Heads up, Kaz. We might have company.” Jesper says as he keeps an eye on the soldiers. “Moving in pairs. Looks like a search pattern.” 

They’re too far away to hear the words that are spoken, but Jesper can guess what it is from here: “Hey! You there!” 

He watches as Kaz drags their contact into an alley as the storm troopers converge from two directions. 

“I’ve lost sight of you, Kaz.” Jesper sights the troopers through his scope and taps a finger against the trigger. Killing troopers brings more attention than Kaz likes. They work in secret. “Exit strategy?” 

Through Kaz’s comm he hears the panicked pleas of Kaz’s contact swiftly silenced by a laser bolt. He grimaces at the additional body count as Kaz’s gravelly voice comes over the comm. 

“I’ve got it. Jesper, join Inej. Meet me at the rendezvous point.” 

He takes one last look at the troopers closing in on the alley and then stands. If Kaz needed help, he would ask. The man had a thousand and one plans. There’s no way he didn’t account for a way out of this trap. It sounds like he’s probably climbing, a feat considering his bum leg from when he landed on it wrong a couple years back and it never healed properly.  

“You know, for once I’d like one of these missions to go smoothly,” Jesper mutters under his breath as he hightails it back to the ship. He stows his blaster and keeps it from sight as he moves through the crowds. Seedy cities have been a second home to him for years, since he left the Imperial flight academy, if he’s being honest. He liked the anonymity the city gave him. It always felt better than the emptiness of the moisture farm he grew up on. He hates the heat and the sand. 

Oh, God, the sand. 

He walks aboard the ship with the swagger of a drunk who won big at the betting table. He nods jovially to those he passes. There are a couple glances down to the pistols at his waist, but that’s normal on a large port like this one. Intergalactic travel to major cities has always been fraught with trouble and this one isn’t especially savory. They don’t have the clearance for savory. 

Inej sits on the ramp of the ship, sprawled out across it like a cat. She opens her eyes as he arrives and stretches. “Ready to go?” 

“Shouldn’t the get away pilot be ready to run?” Jesper teases as they walk up into the ship and Inej diverts to the cockpit, starting the take off procedure. 

“I spent the last hour bemoaning my terrible coworker who insists on gambling at each port and always staggers back drunk, occasionally with unexpected company. I’ve already got tower clearance to leave. And taking off won’t set any red flags with the Empire so we’re clear.” 

Jesper drops into the copilot chair as Inej goes through engine checks. “You did all that?” 

“You’re not the only one capable of sweet talking people, Fahey.” She shoots him a look and he chuckles. 

“I remember when your first attempt to blend in. Didn’t you end up stabbing someone?” 

Inej scowls at the memory. “And no one has tried to grab my body since then without a threat of a knife point.” 

Jesper chuckles. “Fair enough.” He shifts as they fly high enough to leave the atmosphere and then drop back down, drifting through the carefully mapped out empty space of blind spots that allow them to drift down to the meeting point. Despite it taking them almost no time to get there, Kaz is already sitting against a crate on the roof of a run down building, cane held out in front of him with his hands crossed on top. 

Jesper moves back toward the loading bay and opens the doors. He leans against the side of the doorway as the ship turns to face Kaz. “Hiya, honey. Miss me?” 

As always Kaz rolls his eyes at Jesper’s attitude as he climbs the ramp. “We’re clean. Any trouble at the port?” 

“Nope,” Inej reports from the cockpit. “Just a couple nosy traders looking for a good time. Sent them after Jesper.” 

“Har har,” he shoots back as the ramp closes with a firm whoosh of pressure stabilizing. He turns to Kaz who has dropped onto the bench and closed his eyes. His lame foot is extended slightly in front of him, a tell that it’s aching from the exercise of escaping the troopers. Jesper can also see where his blaster sticks out from under his jacket, the clip of the holster no longer in place. He definitely used it. “Did you get the intel?” 

Kaz nods. 

“Where are we headed?” Inej asks. From the body of the shuttle, Jesper sees her hand hover over the hyperspeed settings, preparing to change the destination of their jump. 

“The pilot is on Jedha.” 

They both freeze and you could hear a pin drop in the shuttle. Jesper glances at Inej and sees the same worry painted in the lines of her face. “Are you sure?” 

Kaz finally opens his eyes and leans forward. “It’s been confirmed. That’s the second source and this one claims to have actually seen the pilot.” 

“But he’s a defector, why would he go there?” Jesper asks. 

“Jedha’s not a stronghold for the Empire, but they do trade there.” Kaz answers, as if that explains the reasoning. 

“But it’s a Shu stronghold. They’re cut off. We haven’t had contact in years.” Jesper glances at Inej in the cockpit. “Nina was there when the communications shut down. She wasn’t able to get out and no one’s been able to go in.” 

Kaz rams a gloved hand over the top of his cane. “That isn’t strictly true.” 

Inej whips around. “What?” 

He sighs. “We have a way onto the planet. The problem will be finding the defector and getting him to talk to us.” 

“And getting off planet again,” Jesper cuts in. “Or have you forgotten how the Shu seize whoever and whatever they want? There’s a reason we don’t have an outpost there.” 

Kaz stares at him with those cold, blank eyes and then turns toward Inej. “Set the course.” 

For a long moment, Inej doesn’t move. Her fingers tap against the control as she gazes at Kaz with an inscrutable expression on her face for a moment before she turns back to the controls and the ship lurches into hyperspace. 

Jesper crosses his arms as he faces Kaz from across the ship. “You knew we were headed to Jedha.” 

Kaz stares back at him for a moment and then closes his eyes. He leans back against the side of the ship. Jesper wishes he was surprised about the lack of communication. 

He sits down next to Kaz. “This way on to Jedha...does it have anything to do with Nina?” 

Kaz cracks open an eye. He looks Jesper over and shuts them again. “She was able to get one message out since the Shu shut down. The last message that got out - the one that opened a path - the agent was lost. Haven’t heard anything since.” 

“Nina?” 

“Under orders to lay low.” 

“Are we taking her out with us?” 

Kaz’s hands tighten on the head of his cane. “We’ll see.” 

<hr> 

There was something happening. Nina looks around the marketplace covertly as she examines the fruit in the stall in front of her. It’s the same bland, slightly bruised fruit that they always have. Two years on this desert planet and she’s still not used to the blandness of the food. She’s missing the lush variety of Aldaraan and the sweets she used to eat by the bushel. There’s no sweets here in Jedha, especially not in the mostly abandoned temple. 

She exchanges a coin for two shrivelled pieces of fruit and a smile with the vendor. She slips off the main thoroughfare and into the archway that leads into the dilapidated temple. Like most of Jedha, it’s covered in a fine layer of sand and dust, and shows the wear and tear of years of war. 

She tosses a piece of fruit to the tall and skulking shadow that leans against the archway. Matthias catches the fruit of the air. He pulls a wickedly long knife from behind his back and cuts the fruit into meticulous pieces, eating with precise movements to stop the juice from creating a sticky mess. 

Nina is far less careful. She bites into the fruit and does her best to stop the overripe fruit from spilling juice down her chin. It’s a messy process and her fingers will end up coated in sugary sweetness. It’s her little act of rebellion that makes Matthias shake his head in her direction, when his eyes aren’t sweeping the plaza. 

“There’s something in the wind,” he says as he slowly eats another slice of his fruit. Nina’s is almost gone. She’s sad for that. 

“Rumors.” Nina glances at the gangsters on the corner of the street with their strange metal suits. They’re looking antsy, searching the street. “There’s not much chatter. Something about an Imperial pilot. Broke through the Shu blockade.” 

Matthias’s eyes drift back across the crowds of people. Nina rearranges her robe and leans against her staff. Two years posing as acolytes of the temple and proselytizing about Sankts has her accustomed to her character. No one bothers with a monk spouting ideas of an old religion they no longer believe in. 

“The Empire is still confined to their kyber shipments,” Matthias observes. He casually cuts the seeds from his fruit. “Their shuttle routes haven’t been altered. The Shu though.” His eyes dart to their locations around the square. “They’re looking for someone.” 

“A defector,” Nina says. 

Matthias finally looks over at her in surprise. “Yours or mine?” 

“Does it matter?” she asks. “Either way, we need to find them before anyone else.” 

“Do we?” Matthias grumbles and slips his knife back into the sheath hidden somewhere on his person. “It’s not like anyone’s come to get us in the last two years.” 

Nina rolls her eyes. They’ve had this argument before. “Come now, druskelle. Where’s that attitude of dedication to the Empire?” 

He snorts. “It died two years ago.” One of the Shu guards moves and Matthias’s attention strays. “Think it’s important enough that they’ll risk their peace with the Shu?” 

Beneath the question is the unspoken one that neither of them have put words to, but they both know is lingering in the back of their minds: Is this defector more important than they are? Nina’s last mission was to get a contact off Jedha to the Rebellion. Matthias had saved her from capture by the Shu and they hadn’t been able to risk an attempt to leave Jedha since then. The Empire had some sort of deal with the Shu that allowed them access to the Kyber mines but that was it. 

“Perhaps it’s time we went to collect tithes, Brother Helvar,” Nina announces. She pulls up the hood of her robes and leans on her staff as she walks out from the temple. Matthias follows behind her with grumbled complaints under his breath. The occupants of the city are familiar with their dynamic, although they’re sure to vary the times they depart the temple. Routines are too predictable. 

Matthias doesn’t speak even as Nina stops to talk with every friendly face she sees. For the first year, he had complained at every moment, even as she explained to him the importance of blending in, of becoming part of the populace. Now he even lets the children climb on him when she stops to share a story about the saints. 

“They’re jumpy,” Lin shares with Nina in whispered tones, her eyes darting around the square even though there don’t appear to be guards around right now. “Jan said he saw stormtroopers preparing to enter the city.” 

Nina performs a blessing on an elderly man. “Any idea what they’re looking for?” 

“A pilot.” Lin shifts her daughter around on her hip. “Imperial pilot. You don’t want to get between the troopers and their goal. The Shu are looking for him too. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of their way.” 

Matthias moves closer. “And the pilot?” 

Lin glances at him and then back at Nina. She’s always been more skittish around men. It’s a look Nina’s uncomfortably familiar with and one she knows speaks to a violent past interaction. The way she grips her daughter just a bit closer breaks Nina’s heart. 

Nina nods encouragingly. 

“Down by the old refractory.” Lin freezes up as soon as the words escape her mouth. Her eyes widen in surprise at what she just divulged. She darts away in a panic, leaving Nina and Matthias to continue to serve the poor with their usual tithes. 

By unspoken agreement, Matthias follows Nina’s lead as she takes them on a winding path. The last year and half of long meandering routes work in their favor as Nina leads them with more purpose. 

It feels good to have a purpose again. She hasn’t had contact with the Rebellion, but if this is big enough that the Empire is willing to fight the Shu for the interloper, then it’s big enough for the Rebellion to also be looking. The Empire has the strength to use brute force. The Rebellion will send Kaz Brekker. Per Haskell would be an idiot to send anyone else. 

As they get closer to their destination, Nina slows her pace and purposefully plays up her monk persona, passing out alms and blessings in equal measure. Matthias moves gruffly in her wake, watching her back in a way that might be suspicious if it hadn’t been his stable characteristic for the last two years. The Shu are used to their dynamic of the devout believer jaded sceptic. They had adopted the personas for safe passage before the Shu blockade and been forced to maintain it since then. 

It was useful, despite neither Nina nor Matthias being well versed in espionage. 

By the time they reach the old refractory buildings, Nina and Matthias are moving at a crawl, speaking to every person they see. Nina’s eyes scan the faces for one that looks out of place, one that screams uncertainty or distrust. 

She gets pointed down a dark alley by one of the urchins after she shares with him one of her precious jojo beans. It’s the closest she can get to her sweets in this city. She glances at Matthias and he nods. His body is intentionally relaxed, ready to move as necessary in response to a threat. 

Nina leads the way into the factory, looking around carefully as they move into the space. She breathes in deeply and sinks into the meditative state. The air around her settles, buzzing with the life force of the inhabitants of the city. In a couple of breaths, she narrows it further so she can feel the interior of the building. 

Matthias mutters under his breath, something about religious mumbo jumbo and insanity. 

Nina turns sideways and opens one eye to glare at Matthias. He rolls his eyes and gestures at her to continue.  

Her use of the Force is unrefined, based more in the faith that it will work than on actual knowledge about what she’s doing. It’s an old religion and the order they’re with is still respected even if not believed in. Okay, so maybe respected is pushing it. They’re disregarded as religious fanatics who don’t do much of anything. 

She follows the light of the Force through the factory, letting it guide her feet, trusting it to protect her from bumping into any of the clutter. Dimly, she senses Matthias grunt as he moves something out of her path before she hits it or it hits her. She keeps her focus on the life signature that shines like a beacon, coming to a stop once they’re in sight of the huddled mass. She opens her eyes and peers into the gloom. 

“We’re here to help you,” Nina says. Her soft voice carries around the large space. She ignores Matthias’s mutter about talking to herself. 

“Who...who are you?” A tremulous voice asks. It sounds younger than Nina expected, more uncertain. She thought a defector would be more hardened, more convinced of their path to go against the Empire in such a way. 

Nina squats down to look at the hunched over figure. Matthias has one hand hovering over his hidden firearm, the other on a dagger. She’s deep in her meditation of the Force and senses no danger from the huddled figure. 

“You’re the pilot, right?” Nina asks instead of answering. 

His eyes look her over, lingering on her and Matthias’s matching robes. “You’re priests?” 

He inches forward. There’s enough light cast on him that his Imperial uniform catches her eye, answering the question he avoids. She smiles softly at him and holds out her hand. Behind her Matthias shifts, disliking her proximity to perceived danger, if she has to guess. 

“Word on the street is you’re a defector. We’re here to help.”  

<hr> 

Wylan doesn't think he's ever been this cold in his life. Which is bizarre because this is a desert planet. You'd think it would be warm but instead he's found himself huddled in dark corners, scavenging like a rat for scraps for the last couple days while he tries to escape notice from the Shu. Jedha was supposed to be a safe haven for him, somewhere the Empire couldn't touch. The Shu had tried to grab him first, had detained him and demanded answers to their questions about the Empire. His protests that he wanted to defect fell on deaf ears. Then they'd dragged him into a cave with a beast they called Bor Gullet. 

It's a blur after that. 

He remembers waking in a cell to garbled words, a blurred hologram of his father glaring disdainfully down at him. A comment about the Empire being grateful to the Shu. Wylan doesn't know how he escaped. There's a memory of loud noise, a flash of heat, and dirt. Then it's all dark and cold. 

He'd avoided people after that, stuck to shadows, and only ventured out when the emptiness of his stomach threatened to eat him from the inside out. 

He doesn't even know how long it's been since he escaped the cell...or was released...he doesn't know. 

Then the woman appeared, like an angel out of the darkness and she promises salvation. 

Wylan knows enough of his father's games not to immediately trust the gesture. "Who are you?"  

“We’re with the Rebellion,” she says with a smile. 

The monk behind her rolls his eyes and turns away. They don’t look like any monks he recognises. The only person he’s heard of who truly follows the old religion is the Darkling and Wylan’s not so unfortunate to have ever seen him in person. “You don’t look like Rebels.” 

“He’s right. We don’t,” the man tells her. 

The woman looks over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in a glare. “Matthias Helvar.” She turns conspiratorially back to Wylan and there’s a friendly glint in her eye that makes him want to trust her. “Once he was the most devout of you all. Rose through the ranks of the Empire almost as high as they come. You want out of the Empire. We can help.” 

Wylan’s eyes drift over the man’s features and there’s something that reminds him of the way General Brum’s men carry themselves, the elite of the troopers he’s only seen from a distance. Wylan wants to string words together but they slip away like soap and water. 

“Will you come with us?” She prompts, yet again. 

He can’t combine the fears and hopes and questions into coherent sense. All he can do is nod in agreement. Whether they harm him or save him, he’ll be dead or caught if he stays here on his own. He needs allies and he’s not in a mental state where he can do much of anything himself. 

“Good,” she says. She pulls him forward and manhandles Wylan into a monk’s robe over his tattered pilot’s uniform. “I’m Nina. This is Matthias. We’re going to get you out of here alive. Good?” 

Wylan nods. She shoves a basket into his hands and drops additional bits of clutter from the warehouse floor into it. 

“We should be heading back,” Matthias rumbles. 

“Walk between us,” Nina instructs, pulling the hood of his robe up. Matthias mimics the movement. “Don’t make eye contact. Don’t talk to anyone. Just stay in step with us. We’ll speak for you if it comes to that.” 

Wylan has enough sense to nod along. He knows talking will only give away his current state of complete confusion. He can see the looks Nina and Matthias exchange in response to his silence. He’s not so lost that he doesn’t understand what’s going on but the thoughts take too long to reach his lips and disappear like fragrance on a breeze. 

The ground is dusty and uneven under Wylan’s feet. It captures his attention as he walks, so different from the metal hallways and corridors he’s used to walking.  His feet catch from where they scrape the ground and he tries to tell his body to lift his feet higher, but they don’t seem willing to respond any more than what they do by instinct. When was the last time he walked on anything that wasn’t steel? 

He’s so preoccupied by swirls of dirt that he walks right into a wall. 

Well, not a wall, but the giant monk - Matthias. He bounces off the man’s back, which feels like the equivalent of walking into a wall. The man doesn’t even move in response to him walking into him at full speed, but Wylan almost falls on his butt, and would if it wasn’t for Nina catching him. 

She steps past him to stand next to Matthias. She pushes him further into the shadows behind Matthias as she looks past him to see what’s grabbed his attention. Wylan shuffles sideways and ducks down so he can look around the hulking figures. 

The white helmets break through his current haze and Wylan stumbles backwards. The Storm Troopers followed him. He can’t allow himself to be captured, not after he finally escaped that place and his father’s restrictive control. 

“Wait!” Nina whispers harshly, but Wylan’s body is moving without his consent. The urge to get away is too strong. It drives him, haltingly, step-after-step through twisting and confusing alleyways. He’s not sure where he’s going except away. If he can get to a port, he’s sure he can fly a ship. 

Another flash of white Imperial helmets send him careening in another direction which leads him into a square. The sudden exposure leaves him disoriented and he spins around looking for another exit as a child is ushered into one house and shutters are slammed shut. Wylan gulps. He walks back and turns, running into someone for the second time. This time the person rocks as he crashes into them, but Wylan’s still the one wheeling back. 

He blinks at the man, carrying some sort of stick. He looks like he could belong here except that his eyes are too intent. It’s the kind of gaze you couldn’t stand for too long but are also scared to look away from. It takes him a second to notice the tiny girl at his side. She’s looking around, causally flipping a blade in her hand. The other rests on a blaster. Now that he realized that, Wylan notices the man is also armed. 

“Wylan Van Eck?” The man asks. 

Wylan blinks at him in shock. He’s helpless to do anything but nod. They’re not Empire and they don’t look like the Khergud who grabbed him, so they can’t be that bad. Or at least are likely better than the alternative.  

“Right. Time to be off. Let Jesper know we’ve got the package.” The man turns abruptly. 

Wylan glances at the girl who steps aside and gestures at him to follow. He hasn’t decided if he will when there are footsteps behind him. He twists back to see who’s following and breathes a little easier when the monks appear. Maybe monks are better than whoever the man is.  

Maybe he’s dead anyway. 

“Oh good. You’re here.” The man says. “We can all go then.” 

Nina smirks from where she’s bent over catching her breath. “Nice to see you too, Kaz. Been ages.” 

<hr> 

It’s convenient that they were able to find the pilot and Nina in one place. He would have trouble getting Inej and Jesper out of here with just the pilot. They’d had no communication with Nina, no way to get in contact with her once they were in the atmosphere. Kaz takes it in stride and moves back the way they came. The rest will follow and someone will make sure the pilot comes along with them. 

It would have been a fantastic escape. In and out with no trouble whatsoever. It would have been too lucky for him, so the storm troopers that come streaming racing around the corner where Nina and her friend emerged are hardly a surprise. The real unlucky bit is that they also appear in the two other access points to the square. 

The pilot looks ready to bolt. Nina and the second monk steps forward. Kaz respects the bulk of him and hopes that he’s good in a fight. If it were just him and Inej, they would split up and meet at the rendez-vous. The pilot is going to be the issue. 

“Halt. Surrender or you will be terminated.” 

Inej pushes Wylan behind her and toward Kaz. The boy curls in on himself. How he ever got up the courage to desert the Empire, Kaz hasn’t a clue. Now they just need to get him out of here with whatever valuable knowledge is worth breaking the standoff with the Shu. 

Kaz pushes him into a doorway, out of sight of the blasters. “Stay down.” 

The boy whimpers. 

Nina steps forward, hands raised in a deceptively helpless gesture. “Calm down. We’re all friends here.” 

“Stand down or we will open fire,” the trooper repeats. The entire line readies their weapons. Their blasters might be unreliable and clunky, but with so many firing, they’re bound to hit something. 

“You don’t want to shoot us.” Nina tries again. 

“That’s what you’ve got?” the second monk asks incredulously. 

She glares at him. Kaz watches Inej palm a blade and twirl it effortlessly in one hand. The harsh sunlight glints off the edge of the blade: steel instead of a laser edge many prefer. He knows she likes the way the old fashioned blades feel in her hand. They look like they belong in her grasp. 

Nina steps forward again, closer and closer to the troopers. “You’re not going to shoot us.” 

“Hand over the pilot.” The trooper says. From across the square, Kaz can hear the gun prep to fire. This isn’t working. 

“Yeah. That’s not going to happen,” he drawls from the back of the group. The second monk glares at him, but Kaz just twirls his kane, unbothered. It was going to come down to this anyway. There’s no point holding it off as more backup and fire power arrives to support the troopers. 

Shadows fall across the square and Kaz gets his first look at the notorious Khergud soldiers who have kept Jedha independent for the last two years. “Imperial Troopers. You have no authority in our city. The pilot is ours.” 

Nina, her monk, and Inej grow tense at the new party. Beside him the pilot starts to mutter under his breath, rocking back and forth. 

This actually works to their advantage as the troopers are forced to divert their attention. The Khergud fires directly at the troopers before jumping into the air. The troopers open fire, most on the Khergud, judging them to be the bigger threat. 

Inej seizes the moment to dive forward into the fight, taking out two opponents in moments before she’s engaged by one of the Shu soldiers. She moves like an acrobat, twirling through flailing limbs that breeze past her. She’s a force of nature. 

Kaz is distracted from his awe by a guard landing a few feet away and leaping for Wylan. He dispatches the soldier with a few whacks of his cane. He crumples under a well-placed hit to the temple. 

More troopers race toward the noise. They stop around the corner of an alley, firing from their protective spots and forcing the monk and Kaz to step back to cover. They lob a grenade into the square. Kaz takes two steps forward and hits it back with the metal head of his cane. It soars in a perfect arch back to the troopers, who scramble for cover too late. 

The monk nods in acknowledgment and moves to relieve Nina from her two enemies. Inej falls back as she takes out her opponent and the rest are distracted by Nina and the monk. She moves to stand alongside Kaz, stretching out the muscles she just used as she slips her blades back in their many holsters. The explosion rocks the block which takes out one contingent of troopers but they're met with more troopers and Shu, crawling out of the cracks like cockroaches. 

A moment later shots arc over their heads, rapid fire, each one hitting its target and leaving the recipients incapacitated.  

Kaz relaxes infintestimently. He'd been prepared to dive for cover. His hand twitches toward Inej but he knows she can take care of herself. She doesn’t need him trying to tackle her and throwing off her center of balance.  

A figure emerges along the roofline, a rifle resting against his shoulder. “There were an awful lot of explosions for people who were supposed to be blending in.” 

“I hope you’ve got an exit plan, Brekker,” Nina says. She diverts to the Imperial pilot after a glance at the monk. 

He nods and moves for the alley. “This way.” He glances at Inej and up at the roofline. She nods and follows his tacit directions. Kaz leaves her to do what she does best: cover them from the shadows. 

Kaz walks with purpose through the streets. Now that fighting has broken out, it appears that no one is holding back. Shu are fighting stormtroopers, troopers are fighting the Khergud and civilians are running for cover. Jesper’s  and Inej’s shadows move with them. The monk - who Kaz Brekker suspects is the Druskelle Nina mentioned before she went dark - leads the charge, with his long legs that eat up the ground in long strides. Nina covers their escape with a simple bo staff. 

“Where are we going?” The monk asks as he fires off a round of shots. 

“Left!” Jesper shouts as he crashes to the ground on the back of a Khergud soldier. “I don’t know why we ever thought this was going to be a quiet mission. And I still say we need a demolition expert.” 

“We’re spies, Jesper,” Kaz growls over the sound of battle. 

Jesper shoots him a cocky grin over his shoulder. “But this is so much more fun.” 

“There’s something wrong with you,” the monk mutters. 

“Kaz.” 

He looks sideways, unsurprised to find Inej at his shoulder, silent as always. He follows her gaze upwards and nearly stumbles to a stop. “Jedha doesn’t have a moon.” 

Nina and the monk stumble to a stop. Jesper glances up for a moment. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. It appeared out of nowhere. It’s too big to be a ship but moons don’t move.” 

“That’s it,” Wylan whispers. The pilot suddenly jolts into motion. “We have to go. Now!” 

Kaz is forced into an ungainly run. He tries not to notice Inej hovering at his elbow, keeping pace with him as they race toward the ship. The Imperial pilot is ahead of them all, heedless of laser bolts. Jesper yanks him back by the collar to direct him to the correct ship. 

As he reaches the ramp, Kaz starts to hear screams. 

“Jesper, get us out of here!” Kaz yells. Inej hits the control to shut the ramp as Jesper guns the engine. 

“What do you think I’m doing, Brekker? Buckle up. This ride’s about to get bumpy.” 

<hr> 

The whole world has turned upside down. Matthias isn’t sure what he’s doing, to be perfectly honest. Staying with Nina was a mutually beneficial proposition. They were stuck on a foreign planet, where the only people they could trust were each other. He’d become accustomed to their partnership and been shocked by how much he relied upon her. Now, looking at this ragtag group - so different from the ordered discipline of the elite Druskelle guard - Matthias is at a loss for how the Resistance has managed to become a thorn in the Empire’s side. 

He will admit that they were, like Nina, surprisingly capable and effective. However, he can’t hide how scandalized he is by their lack of any sort of recognizable chain of command. The trio moves like his old unit in that they’re so familiar with each other, they don’t need to shout out commands. But their actions of Jedha display an alarming disregard for a cohesive plan and seem to thrive on the chaos of the moment. 

“What was that?!” The boy with the cane asks, turning around to stare at the group before his eyes zero in on the unfortunate pilot. 

Matthias hasn’t gotten much from the boy, except that he stepped back from the fighting yet was clearly capable of surviving physical confrontation. Nina and his two companions seemed to defer to him as some sort of leader, which spoke to a sharp mind. Nina called him Kaz, which would indicate one of the high level members of Rebel Intelligence. He’s heard him referenced as a nightmare or a demon, spoken of in whispers and myths more than anything else. 

All in all: Matthias expected someone older. 

“That was the Death Star,” Wylan whispers. His eyes look haunted. 

Matthias frowns. “Impossible.” He starts when five sets of eyes jerk towards him in the silence of hyperspace. He grits his teeth. The word wasn’t supposed to be spoken out loud. “They’re decades away from creating that technology.” 

Wylan is shaking his head. “No. They found a scientist. Got him to create what they needed. I...I was able to get away. To warn the Rebellion. It’s a planet killer.” 

“A planet killer?” The small girl repeats. 

“Is that even possible?” Nina glances at him for confirmation. Matthias has no answer. It was only an idea when he was with the Druskelle last. Brum used to talk about it, but it was never close to a reality. Not then. 

“Why don’t you ask Jedha?” Kaz says. 

“We don’t know that it destroyed the whole planet,” the small girl points out. 

The boy doesn’t look away from where he stares out the window at the white streaks of stars passing in hyperspace. “At the very least, we know it destroyed the city. If the Empire has a weapon like that, we’re left defenseless.” 

“That’s why I was sent to find you,” Wylan says. He freezes when all eyes turn to him and he curls in on himself from his spot beside the pilot. Matthias has spent years in Imperial bases and has no idea how this pilot managed to get into the program, let alone became important enough to have access to this top secret project. It seems highly suspect to him. 

“Sent?” The boy asks, finally turning so his whole body faces the pilot. Matthias does have to admit he cuts an intimidating figure even as he leans on his cane. 

The pilot swallows. “The scientist. I was supposed to get to a contact they had with the Rebellion. There was someone I was supposed to connect with...the Wraith? But I got redirected…” He frowns. The more the pilot seems to search for words, the harder they seem to come. 

Matthias has seen this before. “He was captured by the Khergud. They most likely probed his mind using Bor Gullet. That’s how they dealt with any Imperial or Rebel spies they found.” He leans back against the steel hull. It actually feels good to be back in space again after being grounded for so long. 

It feels like freedom. 

The boy looks at Nina. She nods in confirmation. “It’s true. We only escaped detection because of the temple.” 

“Because all she would talk about was the Force,” Matthias mutters. He adjusts his muscles so they’re loose and he can react in an instant if needed. Nina drops into the space beside him, using his shoulder as a pillow as she settles in like a cat that can get comfortable anywhere. 

“I saved your life,” she says without opening her eyes. 

He grunts and doesn’t let his smile emerge.  

“The Wraith,” Kaz repeats, focusing on Wylan again. “What were you supposed to tell them?”

Wylan still looks nervous. “Well, I was supposed to pass on...a message...There’s a way to destroy it. A weakness.” 

“A weakness?” 

Wylan yanks at his hair. It’s useless to try to force him to remember more in his state. Matthias watches the trio of rebels to see what they’ll do at this obstacle. 

“He didn’t tell me,” Wylan whispers, clearly realizing this might not endear him to his rescuers at this point. “I was supposed to...bring someone back. They wanted...they wanted someone to rescue them, and they would share the weakness. I was just supposed to be the messenger. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 

Kaz scowls and glances at the girl who looks at the man in the pilot’s seat, all having some sort of silent conversation. Matthias watches the interaction with interest.  

“Where is this base?” Kaz finally moves closer, crouching so he can look Wylan in the eyes. 

“Eadu.” 

Matthias vaguely recalls the outpost. Far from most of the known universe, it’s one of the Empire’s research bases. There’s not a huge platoon placed there for protection. It’s a secret base, kept out of the way, and by necessity sees few changes in personnel. There were a couple training missions on the planet to diversify the team’s experiences and analyze security procedures. 

“We don’t have anyone on Eadu,” the girl notes. 

“Because Eadu’s on lockdown. Nothing in or out that isn’t high level.” The boy flying the craft throws over his shoulder. “Out of the flight academy, I only stopped there once because they needed a supply run immediately. They didn’t even let me off the shuttle. To be a pilot there, you’d have to have some pretty impressive clearance.” 

Matthias alters his assessment of the crew that got them off Jedha. To get through the Imperial Flight Academy is impressive. The man also demonstrated impressive aim and combat skills. Despite not being highly regimented, they do appear to be a solid team. He glances down at Nina. 

“So in order to get the information on the weakness, we have to go to Eadu,” the girl says. She’s twirling a knife in her hands, one with a true steel blade like he hasn’t seen in ages. Her comfort with it is another mark in their favor. 

“Jesper’s right. It’s impenetrable. We haven’t managed to get anyone on the inside.” Kaz taps his fingers on the head of his cane. 

“So we go.” The girl shrugs. “We redirect. We need to find a way to beat this thing or millions more are going to die.” 

“Procedure is to report for further orders. We’ve got the pilot.” Kaz looks at her with a heavy look. 

“Matthias can help.” Nina elbows him as she speaks up. 

He scowls down at her as everyone turns to stare at him. She didn’t even bother to open her eyes to betray him. 

“I’m not a traitor.” Matthias glares at the lot of them. 

“You’ll help,” Nina says with a self-assuredness he’s come to hate over the last couple of years. Because as irksome as it is, she’s usually right about these things. They both know it. 

“We’re supposed to just trust a stranger on your word?” Jesper asks. 

“Get twisted, Fahey. You know my word is good.” 

Kaz and the woman - whose name Matthias still doesn’t know - have another silent conversation. She turns to look at him, her eyes speculative. Kaz leans closer to her. “You think you can do this?” 

She doesn’t take his eyes from Matthias. Her knives continue the casual twisting in her hand. She shrugs and looks back at the mastermind. “It is our kind of job.” 

Kaz nods. “Jesper, alter course. Van Eck, help get him close without being seen. Matthias, you need to tell us everything you know, and quickly.” 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if you don’t, I’m going to make your life very unpleasant.” 

“How do you even know the pilot is right? How do you know there really is a weakness? This could be a trap.” It sounds like the kind of thing Jarl Brum would think up to capture Rebel spies.

“Faith,” Nina says. “This is the right choice.” She finally sits up and stretches. 

Matthias rolls his eyes at her religious display. He sighs. “I can tell you what I know. It could still be a trap.” 

“The pilot is Wylan Van Eck. He’s on my list of potential informants. He became an Imperial pilot because of familial connections. It’s how he has access to sensitive information. We know they’re working on something on Eadu. If this is what he says, then we need that information.” The girl explains it in an even voice. 

“And if there isn’t a secret weakness?” 

Kaz and Inej exchange a long look.  

“Then we find another way to blow it up,” Jesper supplies. 

Matthias isn’t sure he likes the looks of glee on their faces. 

“So how do we get in?” 

The girl turns to look at Matthias, her dark eyes just the slightest bit terrifying now that he’s actually getting a good chance to size her up. She tends to fade into the background and let her comrades take charge, but definitely is not to be underestimated. He stares at her and then glances at Kaz. 

“Inej is a ghost,” Nina says. “She can get in and out without anyone noticing.” 

He looks her over, still assessing. This moment, more than any in the last two years of surviving, feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. The last two years he could justify to his superiors: he was surviving a hostile planet, he had to get close to Nina or he would have died, he was trying to learn the secrets of the Rebel scum. This was different. If he does this, he’s helping the Rebel cause. He’s actively going against everything he’s ever learned.

Nina hits him in the shoulder, as if sensing his internal conflict. She twists upright to look at him and raises an eyebrow in challenge. 

He can hear her voice in his head, berating him for his strict no-nonsense rules and his consuming hatred for anything that goes against the order of the Empire. There were countless debates as they marched through Jedha, each an intellectual exercise. He can honestly say that he doesn’t believe the Empire is never wrong, but is that enough to make him give up their secrets? 

“They murdered everyone in Jedha,” she whispers to him softly. “Lin, Mauri, Katya…” She closes her eyes against the pain. 

He wants to wrap her in his arms and pull her close. Nina feels everything so deeply, unable to stop herself from connecting with everyone she meets. He wants to protect from that pain, to comfort her. Those lives lost today. They were innocents. People that should have been protected and instead… 

He opens his eyes and nods his agreement to Nina. 

She grins, life and joy filling her back up as she bounces around in her seat, the way she gets excited whenever they found something reasonably sweet on Jedha. “Matthias meet Inej. Inej, meet Matthais. He’s a little shy but he knows what’s at stake.”

It’s like shedding a piece of armor or throwing off the last vestiges of who he once was. There’s no turning back now, and he has surprisingly little regret as he opens his eyes and asks the first damning question: “Where do you want to start?”

... 

Look out for Part II on 9/9!

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Big Secret

Pairing: Kirishima x reader, but also . . . pining!Bakugou

Warnings: Mentions of/implied sex, but nothing actually graphically happening. Gay/Bi/Poly fun stuffs. Bakugou doesn’t like the color pink. Also language from YoU kNoW wHo

Author’s Note:

*sips tea*

So.

Technically, no one asked for this, but I wanted to write it anyway. Then someone requested a sequel, so I made this prequel first (because I had a clearer idea, nothing against them). It doesn’t matter if you read Little Secret or Big Secret first, so do whatever if you’re new. 

Little Secret did surprisingly well, so I was more than happy to jump back into the mini AU. This takes place about a month before the events of Little Secret. I could not pick whether this is angst or crack, so I made it both. Both is good.

This is my first crack at angst (haha, see what I did there? I’m so smart and funny). If it’s bad, then it’s kind of just practice for me. If it’s good and you decide you like it . . . hooray! I did something right for once.

Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

-Sugar

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

Bakugou stood in front of your door, scowling as usual.

Ever since you and Kirishima had started dating, it felt like the red-haired hard boy was impossible to be reached, constantly spending all his time with you. Bakugou had expected as much when the two of you had announced to him that you were a couple, but this was starting to get ridiculous. He was starting to feel a little too left out, getting angry at how much he found himself missing your presences as you had once hung out interchangeably in all three of your rooms. But that was before, when you were all just friends.

Just friends.

Bakugou shook his head before rapping impatiently at your door. "Oi, (N/N), have you seen Kirishima?"

"I'm in here."

Katsuki immediately recognized the sound of the redhead's voice on the other side of your door, causing him to frown. Of course. Just as he'd anticipated.

"It's open," you called.

And you were in there too. Gods, he hoped he didn't just catch you two doing something disgusting, like kissing or worse. He was almost to the point of praying that the two of you were at least decently clothed when he opened the door.

What he most certainly didn't expect was the sight before him, immediately smacking him in the face the moment he walked in.

Kirishima had just gotten up from laying belly down on the floor, clad only in a pair of loose black sweatpants, defined muscles clearly out for anyone to see. You were right next to him, sitting in your cute pajamas. Bakugou had tried telling you off for copying him by wearing that black tank top like he did, but you had insisted that it had been as much your idea as it had been his. His gaze wandered to your bare legs, accentuated by a pair of short (F/C) shorts.

The most shocking thing however, was the fact that both your faces were slathered in some sort of mint-green paste, hair tied up and pushed back with fuzzy animal-themed headbands.

"Need something, Bakubro?" Kirishima asked, yanking him out of his thoughts before he could get too far down a rabbit hole that would be painfully embarrassing to climb himself back out of.

"You have my notes. I need them."

It was true, Kirishima had asked to borrow Katsuki's lesson notes, like he always did at the end of the week. Upon finding the boy absent from his room, Bakugou could have easily let himself in and taken them off his desk, right where they always were. But for some reason, he'd been driven to go out and find the redhead. He didn't know why. Maybe it was to torture himself. He never knew why he even still bothered being around you two.

There was a new feeling ever since you'd become official; a sickness churning in the pit of Katsuki's stomach. Oddly, he vaguely recognized it from when that damned Deku would constantly show him up, but this one was always much stronger, somehow even more painful.

Why did he wince every time you went to grab Eijirou's hand? Why did he find himself with the urge to go be sick when he'd first seen Eijirou lean over to give you a peck on the cheek? It had been because it was gross couple stuff, right? Bakugou wasn't here for all that nasty touchy-feely stuff. He'd seen his parents do it, and it disgusted him. And now his best friends were doing it with each other; sometimes right in front of him, sometimes when you thought he couldn't see.

But he saw, and he knew. He'd heard you, late that night after training. Heard the two of you noisily entering Kirishima's room, clicking the lock on the door as you'd stumbled to the opposite wall. He'd listened to everything: the telltale sounds of skin meeting skin and coming together. He'd heard both your sweet, pretty voices, desperately trying to keep quiet as foreign waves of feelings coursed through your bodies on the other side of the wall. The thin wall, where every sound was as plain as if the barrier hadn't been there at all.

He should have stopped himself then. He should have given up all hope, closed down all his feelings. He'd laid awake the whole night, thinking about how his two best friends were now seeing each other in this way. You were third years, and having relationships within the class was to be expected. But his best friends? Together? And now it was just him. The sideliner. The outcast. The third wheel. Alone.

He'd been forced to listen. It hadn't been his choice. It was even less his choice when the two of you had approached him the next day, listening one last torturous time to you as Kirishima sheepishly explained that the two of you had become an item. Bakugou pretended like he didn't already know.

He should have stopped hanging out with you, distancing himself as the two of you grew closer. But this had all happened almost four months ago, and he hadn't been able to force himself away from either of you. He couldn't tell if he resented you both or genuinely enjoyed your company.

What did it matter? It was only his stupid emotions, stupid feelings bleeding through his enforced walls. He had other things to focus on, better things. Like being a hero. Training to be at the top of the class, climbing ever higher to surpass All Might and be the number one hero. That was his goal. That was his purpose. It had nothing to do with his idiot, overly supportive best friends—if he could even call you that anymore.

"Your notes?" Eijirou's voice questioned.

"Yeah," Bakugou said. "Where are they?"

"My desk," Eijirou said. "Like always. My door should be open, you could have just taken them."

Bakugou scowled. "Oh," was all he said.

"Hey, we're having a spa night," you piped up.

"I noticed," Bakugou deadpanned.

"Ooh, you should totally join us, Bakubro!" Kirishima's green-caked face slipped into a grin with ease, flashing his ridiculously cute sharp teeth.

"Yeah!" It was your turn to beam, face lighting up in your smile. "Spa night for three!"

Just the three of you. That sounded wonderful. And also absolutely terrible.

Bakugou scoffed. "You're not going to get me to do your childish nonsense. I need to go study. And then sleep."

"The gren-nerd returns," you said, rolling your eyes. "Come on, Blasty, there is such a thing as too much sleep."

"Yeah," Kirishima agreed. "Besides, it's a Friday night. You have all weekend to do whatever. Have some fun with us and lighten up for a change!"

Katsuki glared at you, hovering inside the door frame. You smirked and began pumping your fists in front of you, maintaining eye contact with him.

"Spa night, spa night, spa night—" Your voice took on a low, stage whispered chant, and soon Kirishima joined in next to you.

"Spa night! Spa night! Spa night—!"

"Fucking dammit," Bakugou finally said, slamming the door shut behind him and stomping over to where you were sitting in the middle of your floor. He hurled himself down into a sitting position, trying to make every possible inch of his body language convey that he didn't want to be here. "You're just a pair of idiots and losers."

"I refuse to be cast down by your simplistic labels and insults," you said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. "Gimme your face. Now."

Bakugou jerked his head back from you, even though you technically hadn't even reached for him yet. "What are you going to do?" he asked suspiciously.

"We must start with the face mask. Eiji, go get him a headband."

"A what?! I am not—"

"Yes, you are," you said firmly. "Unless you want to go take another shower to get it all out of your hairline, because, trust me, it gets everywhere."

Kirishima came back and flopped back down beside you, handing over a fuzzy, pink and white fabric headband with small bear ears stitched onto the side. Bakugou looked from it to the ones you were wearing. You donned a sparkly pink unicorn themed one, decorated with a horn, ears and a fluffy puff of a mane. Kirishima wore one that was very similar to the headband you were now holding, except his was black and white, clearly panda themed.

Katsuki pointed at Eijirou's head. "I want his."

The redhead blinked. "What?"

"Yours is cooler and not pink. I want that one."

You sighed. "Katsuki, it doesn't matter."

"I'm not wearing pink!"

"What's wrong with pink?" Eijirou asked.

"It's too girly!"

"Hey, pink can be a manly color," Kirishima argued. You nodded your head in agreement.

"Then why aren't you wearing it?" Bakugou shot back.

Eijirou blinked. "I, uh—um—"

"See, you don't want to wear it either!"

"That's not—!"

Bakugou lunged towards Kirishima, grabbing at the item keeping his red bangs pushed off his forehead.

"AAH—hey! It's gonna smear—!"

The boys took a moment to scuffle, Eijirou desperately trying to hold back Katsuki's arms as they grabbed at him. You took a moment to look into an invisible camera like you were on The Office, heaving a sigh.

"Alright, that's enough." You pulled Katsuki off your boyfriend by the back of his shirt collar, shoving the pink headband into his hand. "You can either wear the headband, or you can let it get in your hair. Eijirou was here first, so that one's his. Got it?"

Bakugou donned his 'I just bit into a lemon' face, spitting out a "tch" before reluctantly putting it on his head, pulling it up so his forehead was on display.

You noticed the ears were a bit off kilter, leaning a little too far to the left. It set off a tic in your face, making you reach over and straighten it out. You couldn't help but notice how Bakugou froze when your hands and face came nearer to his own, breaths stuttering and slowing to a stop. You sheepishly finished adjusting it, sitting back when you were satisfied.

In all honesty, you'd tried to ignore Bakugou's shift in behavior around you. He was as abrasive and irritable as ever, but there was something in the way you'd noticed him looking at Kirishima. You'd gotten briefly jealous until you realized he often acted the same around you. You told yourself to pay no heed to it, and now certainly wasn't the time to be sorting out and guessing at the feelings of your emotionally closed-off best friend.

"If either one of you takes my picture like this," Bakugou said. "I'm gonna fucking kill the both of you."

"Sure."

You glanced over and made eye contact with Eijirou. One of you had to do just that without him noticing by the end of the night. He was simply too cute not to; the pink matching his ash blond hair just right.

You tore your gaze away from Katsuki. I have a boyfriend right here, who I love very very much, you reminded yourself.

That much was true. Maybe you weren't allowed to order off the menu anymore, but it couldn't hurt to take another glance.

"Alright," you announced. "I'm getting the face mask back out." You got up and walked to your felt storage container of toiletries, grabbing the same green tube and package of face wipes you'd used only minutes prior.

"So why the fuck do you have three of these?" Bakugou asked, referring to his newly acquired pink ears.

"Sleepovers, duh. Also there was a sale and they're really cute and cheap, so there."

Bakugou let out another tch as you sat back down in front of him. You pulled out a wipe and began to work at his face, removing any oils that might have gotten on there throughout the day.

"Relax your face," you ordered, and Bakugou surprisingly complied. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep doing that. You know, the whole frowny thing."

"You sound like my mother, dumbass," he commented, keeping his lips turned down in a frown.

"Well, your mother is right."

"Feh."

You ignored his dismissive noise. "You have really nice skin, you know," you commented, moving back to your seated position and tossing the wipe in the general direction of your trash bin. "Do you have a routine? I found out today that Eijirou doesn't so that's what got us started."

The redhead shrugged behind you, having taken out his phone while you tended to Bakugou.

"Um, I wash it sometimes," Bakugou admitted. "My mom said something about how our sweat helps keep it clear, but she still sends me stuff every now and then."

"Neat." You sighed. "Wish my sweat actually helped my skin. Other than, you know, keeping it cool and whatever."

You took the tube from the floor next to you, popping the cap open and squeezing some onto your fingers.

"What is that stuff?"

"Avocado oatmeal clay mask," you said, glancing at the label. "Purifying."

"Huh."

You leaned forward again on your knees in front of him, beginning to spread the green paste over his cheeks and forehead like you'd done to Kirishima.

"I'm not a baby, you know," he protested. "I can do it myself."

"Oh, come on," you countered. "It's fun having your friends take care of you. Just let me do this."

Bakugou sighed through his nose. He had to admit, there was a teeny tiny part of him that liked how close you were, the way your fingers glided over his cheeks and forehead.

But you had a boyfriend. A very sweet, loving, cheerful boyfriend. He was yours and you were his, and Bakugou was . . . unavailable. He'd stay yours and Kirishima's friend, and he'd just have to accept it.

You finished fixing up his face, going back to your criss-crossed sitting position and wiping your fingers off with a tissue.

"Now what?" Bakugou asked.

"We can wash it off in about ten minutes, we just have to wait for it to dry."

Bakugou sat back, assessing the sensation of the mask on his face. It was cold and sticky, but he had to admit it smelled good. He'd never done anything like this before, and the tiniest part of him actually didn't hate it.

You started talking about a meme you'd seen on Instagram, and you laughed with Kirishima. You both were cute in your face masks and headbands. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but maybe Katsuki would be willing to sit through something like this again if it meant seeing you both like this.

You sat back and seemed to go into thought for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do next. "Eijirou, let me see your nails." He presented them to you, his face questioning. You studied his cuticles, clicking your tongue. "Imma get you some nail oil. We could probably all use some."

You got up again and grabbed the little bottle, twisting off the cap and beginning to brush the liquid onto your boyfriend's nails.

"What does that do, exactly?" he asked, watching you concentrate.

"Strengthens your nails," you explained. "Keeps them hydrated so they won't crack and break off so easily."

"Look at that Bakugou!" Kirishima proudly proclaimed. "I’m gonna have strong, manly nails!"

You giggled, beginning to blow on them so the solution would soak in and dry faster.

"Babe, I just realized something," Kirishima said.

"Yeah?"

"We look like Shrek."

You looked up at him, his face caked in the solid green mask, then turned your gaze to Bakugou. "You know, I wasn't going to say anything, but, yeah, we totally do."

You both started cracking up again, and Eijirou laid down on the floor as he laughed. He had the sweetest laugh, the absolute best. You provided hefty competition, however; your slightly higher voice adding to your own pretty sound.

"No hate on my mans Shrek, though," Kirishima said, sitting back up as his audible joy died down a bit.

"Shrek is love, Shrek is life," you said, nodding your head solemnly.

"I thought I was love. For you." Kirishima's expression changed to puppy eyes, pretending to be more hurt than he was.

"Uh, yes. But I've known Shrek longer than you, so he represents life."

"What the fuck, guys."

You both ignored Bakugou's comment, proceeding to bicker.

"But he doesn't love you like I do," Kirishima argued.

"He's shrekxy."

"I—" Kirishima blinked, shaking his head a little in bewilderment.

"Fite me, it's a scientific fact."

Instead, Kirishima turned his gaze to the blond, who was watching the full affair with barely concealed intrigue. "Bakubro, I'm getting jealous of a fictional 2-D green swamp ogre. I think my girlfriend is going to leave me for him."

"Actually he's 3-D," you corrected.

"See?" Kirishima exaggeratedly gestured at you in mock offense. "She doesn't appreciate me anymore for who I am. I'm going to rebound to you, Katsu."

Bakugou stiffened at the proposal. He knew it was just a joke, but now he couldn't get the thought out of his head of actually being with Kirishima. Allowing his hand to grasp his. Placing a kiss on the boy's cheek. Waking up next to him in the morning. Was that his problem? He wanted what you had with Shitty Hair? Or did he want what Kirishima had with you?

"Like I'd ever date you!" Bakugou finally spat, after maybe a bit too long of a pause. "You're a dumbass idiot, just like your girlfriend. You two are perfect for each other!"

Both you and Kirishima blinked at Katsuki's outburst, turning to make eye contact.

"Thank . . . you?" you said, unsure if you should take it as a compliment.

You were both used to Bakugou being brash and loud, often yelling insults he probably didn't mean. But this was a bit unusual, even for him.

What is going on with you, Katsuki?

You sat back and made a little "pthbb" sound with your lips, taking the cuticle oil and starting to apply it to your own nails.

"So when are you going to go back to rubbing my back?" Eijirou asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Or is that only for Shrek?"

You snorted. "I love you, Eiji. I'd give you a kiss on the cheek to prove it, but you've got some artificial avocado there."

Bakugou's frown shifted a bit. At least the masks were good for one more thing.

"Where?" Eijirou teased, feeling at his face as though it wasn't slathered in a thick layer of green paste.

"Ha ha," you said dryly. "I'll go back to personal masseuse-ing after we wash these off."

"When's that?"

You leaned over and tapped at Bakugou's face, finding his still a little moist. "Five minutes," you wagered.

Eijirou started a conversation about training, lightheartedly arguing with Bakugou over one of his techniques.

You watched the nuances of how the two interacted. They'd been friends for so long, they just sort of flowed together and bounced off each other perfectly. Kirishima was clearly more physical, wrapping an arm around Bakugou's shoulders or touching him on his arm or his back. Bakugou never yelled about this like he would with probably anyone else, instead choosing to silently glower while Eijirou finished his thought.

Finally it was time for the masks to be washed off, the three of you crowding around the sink in your cramped bathroom. Eijirou helped you wipe yours away first with some damp paper towels, delighting in being so close to you and your beautiful face. Bakugou opted to simply wash his own off in the sink, splashing cold water over his cheeks. He watched the little green flakes and chunks swirl down into the drain, some of them catching stubbornly on the porcelain surface.

He straightened and looked at his newly washed face in the mirror. He didn't look or feel any different, sans the fuzzy pink bear ears that still wrapped around his forehead. Bakugou tugged them off, stepping away from the sink so Kirishima could take his own turn in washing.

The blond watched the both of you finish up, Eijirou rubbing gently at his face while you patted toner into yours. There was something so mundane about it, even in your tight closet of a toilet space. He liked the little smile you took on as you gently slapped liquid onto your cheeks, and how Eijirou squeezed his eyes shut and gave little shakes of his head to escape from the rivulets of water streaming over his features.

Kirishima stood back up, taking a look at himself in the mirror much like Bakugou had done moments before. "Wait a minute—I still have acne!" He leaned in and closer examined a small cluster of raised bumps.

"Of course you do, ya goof," you said, snickering and setting down your bottle of toner. "It's just a clay mask. If you want magic, use calamine lotion overnight. That should do the trick."

"Why didn't we do that instead?"

"Because these are more fun. And a lot shorter."

Eijirou shrugged and pulled his own headband off, soft red bangs falling over his eyes. Katsuki took a second to admire it. What would it feel like under his fingertips? He wondered for a brief moment how soft it truly was before he ripped his eyes away again. No. No. NO.

"So are you going to rub my back again?" Eijirou asked, puppy-dog eyes shining at you hopefully.

"Maybe later," you said, sliding your headband over your head and undoing your hair. "Right now it's Katsuki's turn. And mine, if it's not too much trouble."

Kirishima sighed tragically, slumping forward. You grinned and went up behind him, rolling the pads of your thumbs into his shoulder blades. He tilted his head back, sighing and closing his eyes at the feeling.

"Babyyy," he said, drawing out the last syllable. "Don't tease me like that."

You giggled and kissed his shoulder. "I'll get back to you soon enough, just be patient."

Bakugou watched the two of you yet again. He had a strange feeling like this was more complicated for him than it should be. Why couldn't he just pick one of you to hate more than the other and move on? Why couldn't he decide which one of you he would rather be in your situation?

"Yo, Katsu," you said to him, bringing him out of his own head. "Get over here." You had sat yourself back down on the floor in the middle of your room, and Kirishima was stationed behind you.

Bakugou walked over and flopped down in front of you, unsure of what to expect.

"Lay down perpendicular to me," you said, tapping his shoulder.

"What? Why?"

"You'll relax more. Do it."

The blond grumbled a bit more before turning himself and laying down on his stomach. "Happy, dumbass?"

"Indeed." You began to work at his shoulders through the barrier of his shirt. Behind you, your boyfriend did the same, running his large hands over the muscles on your back. "How often do you get this done?" you asked the boy under you.

"What? A massage?" Bakugou was really trying to ignore how good your fingers felt on him, pushing and applying pressure in places he didn't even know he needed.

"Yeah."

"Never," he admitted.

"Wait, what?" Eijirou said from behind you.

"Yeah, how?" you asked, stilling your hands. Bakugou resisted the temptation to squirm under you to get you to resume what you had been doing. "That can't be good what with all the training you do."

"I have those foam rollers," he said. "They work just fine."

"Aw, come on," Kirishima said. Bakugou was glad his face was more or less planted on the floor so he wouldn't have to look up at him. "It feels so much better when you have someone else do it for you."

"Tch."

"Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki," you tsked, going back to your motions on him.

The blond quietly sighed through his nose, allowing himself for a moment to sink into the feeling of your fingers dancing over his muscles. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, it felt really nice. He was surprised at how skilled you were, alternating between your thumbs and your knuckles to provide the most pressure, working out tension as you went along. Your hands, which were so small compared to his and his friend's.

Maybe he was starting to like this a little too much.

You and Eijirou had picked up another conversation about nothing. Bakugou was more than content to zone in and out of it, picking up on your even voices. He listened to the little breathy sighs you'd let escape as the redhead pushed into your back much like you were doing to Katsuki. They were almost too cute, and the more he was left in his own mind, the less comfortable he became.

He began to shuffle under you, a part of him wanting to get up and leave, another willing himself to stay.

"You comfortable, Bakugou?" you asked him. "Want a pillow or something?"

The way you'd said his family name; Bakugou. He was an outsider. He shouldn't be here. He pushed himself up from the floor and out from under your hands.

"Woah," Kirishima said. "Where you going, man?"

"I need to leave." Bakugou rammed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned to your door.

"Wait, are you okay?" you asked, moving to get up too. "Did I do something wrong?"

Bakugou ignored you, adjusting his black t-shirt as he flung your door open and shut behind him.

You slumped back into Eijirou in defeat. "What is going on with him?" you lamented, eyes glued to the closed door.

Your boyfriend rested his chin on the top of your head, pondering as you pressed into him. "I have no idea. He's been acting weird for a while . . . . Could it be something going on at home?"

Your eyebrows scrunched a bit in thought. "I don't know about that. Do you think it could be us?"

Kiri shifted himself so he could lean in and look at your face inquisitively. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "It's just that . . . you and I are together and he's . . . alone. I mean, we're still friends, but he might feel . . . left out."

"Ohhh." Kirishima sat back again, pulling you further into his chest. "What should we do?"

You sighed, curling up against his bare skin. "I don't know."

...

Bakugou sat, finally alone in his room. What was happening? What was going on? What was wrong with him?

He hated this, these new feelings. The jealousy he felt whenever you and Kirishima were close and he was left to the side. He wanted to join you, feeling your arms wrapped around him and Eijirou's kiss on his cheek.

But he would never be able to.

Surely, you both would hate him if he said anything. You'd think he was just being sad and greedy, maybe even a creep. It would completely destroy your relationship with him, and he'd lose the two best friends he'd ever had.

Katsuki's bed dipped beneath him as he sat down onto it, placing his head in his hands. Infinite loops of yes and no spiraled forever around in his brain, willing him to just do something.

But he couldn't. There was nothing he could do. He'd have to choose either parting ways with you both or just feeling this way . . . forever, keeping it to himself. He was tired of it already. He wanted the feelings to go away. He wanted to stop hurting like this and being so confused. His rational mind told him to just turn and leave. It made sense. He'd be able to focus fully on his ambitions and become the best hero ever. And yet a tiny, stubborn little part of him knew, just knew that he wouldn't be able to go. There was something between the three of you, and even the tsundere-lord Bakugou Katsuki couldn't ignore it.

He laid back on his bed, closing his eyes. In the dark, he listened. But this time there was no sound. His mind wouldn't rest however, racing and screaming and hurting. It would be hard, but Bakugou would have to do it.

This would all just have to be his big secret.

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

[Little Secret]

[Disclosed]

Author’s Note:

No happy ending?? Well guess what, this is a three-parter. The epilogue/sequel/part three will be purely Kiribaku(+you) fluff, so get ready for that. I know I am!! Also remember Little Secret exists. CUDDLES!! and TICKLES!! YES!

Thanks for reading,

-Sugar

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​​ @nabo39​​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​​ @xoxopam4​​

[kirislut]

the swing set

a/n: so this is just a comfort fic for myself really pfft,, just some feelings of mine that seem to stay unresolved,, but i still hope you enjoy! i need to stop pouring my personal feelings and experiences into fics abxmwkd also i’m worried osamu might be a little ooc sorry about that!!

pairing: osamu x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: over thinking, self blame, mentions of toxic friendship?

taglist (open): @katsushimaa @animatedarchives @peach-pops @deephasoceanmagic @goopyartiste @sugas-sweetheart @shoutamajiki @justamultifandomfan16 @spookykiri @yee-harr @colorseeingchick @tetsurolls @meliorist-midoriya @olsenholic @ordinary-ace @bunnythepipsqueak @sushii10 @sunseteyes @aaakaaashii @aizawaslovebot @rousouhouuu @wompwomphq @eighth-wanderer

moving was no easy task. having to leave everything behind and restart was no fun in the slightest. the hardest thing was saying goodbye to all of your friends. you knew the promise of texting each other was flimsy, eventually, they’d forget and move on with other friends. but you tried not to dwell on the thought too much. you tried to think of how making new friends would be good for you, trying to put yourself out there and make connections was something you needed to improve on anyways.

it wasn’t long before you were accepted into a group of friends, being the new person in school comes with perks since the attention was on you for the first week. everything was smooth from there, you enjoyed your new friends even though there were moments or inside jokes you didn’t understand. you tried not to dwell on it much, it’s not like they were trying to exclude you. however, slowly yet surely, they began to.

whether they meant to or not they started to leave you out of things. forgetting to text you plans for hanging out together, leaving without you after school ended, and sometimes never even glancing in your direction during lunch. some days it was like you never even existed to them in the first place. yet you still stayed around the group. how could you not, you had nowhere else to go.it didn’t help that another new student joined the class. and just like your group did with you, they gladly accepted the new girl into the friend group.

if you didn’t think they didn’t care about you before, you did now. it was painfully obvious how much they enjoyed the new girl’s company instead of yours. often talking to her or asking her to tell them stories. the spotlight was constantly on her, asking her about how she thought being at a new school was. or how cool she was for being new and such. even though you were new as well just two months or so ago.

however you held no resent towards the girl, she was funny and lovable, gorgeous as well. you could understand why they enjoyed her company over your own. you just weren’t interesting enough for them, no matter what you did or talked about. but they still had their moments of being nice to you and inviting you to hang out. maybe you were just overthinking the friendship between yourself and them.

with winter break just starting, you couldn��t help but feel excited. you had ideas of what to get and make your friends for christmas. even if they weren’t as attentive to you they were still your friends after all! besides if they didn’t want you there they would’ve said something, and they did.

a few days into the break you got a text from one of the girls in the group. she explained how she and everyone else didn’t want to be friends with you anymore because they just didn’t like you all that much anymore. their excuse was not connecting with you, that you were just too different. that and with the new girl there they didn’t want to keep you around anymore, it apparently just felt too awkward.

you responded with a string of angry and emotional texts, saying how they were all mean and how they were terrible friends anyway. it was all in the heat of the moment, and while you said you wouldn’t miss them, deep down you knew you would. while the last bits of the friendship was weak and crumbled, the beginning was lots of fun and memorable. what were you going to do now that you were alone?

you don’t know how much time was spent with you crying in your bed, but that was all you could do. so when tears no longer came out, you decided to leave the house and just get some fresh air. your room was now stuffy, the tearful atmosphere felt suffocating to you. so you grabbed your jacket, told your parents you were gonna go for a walk and left the house.

the winter night instantly made you feel chilly, a tingle immediately rushing down your spine as your started to walk to nowhere in particular. even though you went on this walk to try and clear your head, thoughts slowly started to spill into your mind about the ordeal.

you wondered what went wrong, they said it was you so could you have done better? maybe you weren’t a good enough friend, maybe you should’ve been more interesting and fun, maybe if the new girl never came you wouldn’t have been tossed aside like a piece of garbage. all of the possibilities and thoughts of maybe this and maybe thought clouded your mind. it was only when you felt tears running down your cheeks again that you were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts.

carefully you swiped your tears away with the back of your hand, only now looking to see where your feet had carried you too. it seemed that you ended up at the local park in your neighborhood. this was the one place you enjoyed after the move, coming there after school to just relax and enjoy the weather. it seemed that your subconscious knew where to take you to try and comfort yourself. it made you feel a little happy that at least someone cared, even if it was just your subconscious.

you beelined straight to the swings, it was the best place to sit in the park. it also felt nice to pretend like you were in a shoujo manga, waiting for your crush to meet you at the first place you met so that they could confess to you. maybe this was why your friends, now previous friends, decided to drop you. were your thoughts and interests just too different from theirs? was it really that bad enough for them to decide and exile you from their group? whichever way you tried to think about it, it just didn’t make sense. what could you do to improve yourself? how could you become more likable like the new girl? you were the problem right? it wasn’t their fault they dropped you, no it was yours. you were the problem, you were the problem, you were the pro-

“is this swing taken?” you looked to the source of the voice, not expecting to see a gray-haired male that seemed to be the same age as you. “oh no it’s not sorry,” the male nodded at your response and sat himself down on the swing beside you. he looked straight ahead, pushing off on the ground and gently starting to swing back and forth. you watched as he didn’t pick up much speed, just slowly and rhythmically going back and forth.

you looked over the male, taking in his handsome and very familiar features. you felt like you’ve seen him around before yet you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. so when you noticed the maroon sports jacket he was wearing it finally clicked. “you go to inarizaki high as well? i feel like i’ve seen you walking around the halls before,” the male glanced over at you and simply nodded. “yeah i do. you’re in my friend’s class i’m pretty sure. i’m miya osamu, what’s your name?”

the conversation after that flowed slowly and steadily, you exchanged names and talked about his friend, suna, who was in your class, and about how he played volleyball for the school. it was casual and very calming in a sense, something that felt a bit out of place after crying your eyes just before this. osamu was surprised you didn’t know him as one of the miya twins, but it was refreshing, to say the least. “so what are you doing out here?” osamu’s question caused you to sigh, you didn’t want to suddenly dump your feelings onto some cute guy you just met. “i just wanted some fresh air that's all,” you watched as the male’s eyes squinted at you, clearly questioning your answer. but it wasn’t a lie, you did want to get some fresh air because your bedroom reeked of your sadness but you didn’t think it was necessary to include that part.

“any reason for wanting fresh air? i don’t mean to be rude but it looks like you’ve been crying. do...you want to talk about it?” you unconsciously started to nervously play with your fingers, you weren’t sure if you wanted to tell him much. what if you would scare him away just like all your prior friends? but also, at this point, you didn’t have much to lose. so, you did something you never thought you’d ever do. you poured your feelings out to some cute guy you just met, on the swings of all places.

osamu nodded slowly as you explained the situation of you moving and how you found new friends only to be replaced and dumped not too long after. you even shared your doubtful feelings of not being enough and thinking you were the problem. “well there’s always going to be someone out there who's just better.” the blunt comment made you deadpan at the gray-haired male, so this was how he comforted people? but before you could interject he continued, “that’s sadly just the reality of life. i know from personal experience, but—“ he paused for a moment, his mind flickering to his more preferred twin brother “—it’s not your fault. no matter how much you want to blame yourself it’s not your fault. it’s theirs for being jerks.”

your eyes bore into the ground as you processed his words. you knew he was right, but you still had a hard time accepting that you weren’t the problem. surely something could’ve been different if only you were different. “you shouldn't have to change yourself to be more liked by others, it’ll just end up as a complicated mess anyways. i’m sure you can easily find better friends,” osamu intervened, trying to stop your mumbling about being different. he didn’t know why he asked, or why he wanted to help you, but he didn’t mind the small bit of attachment he had no formed with you. if anything he couldn’t help but somewhat relate to your problem.

while it was never voiced out loud, osamu knew that atsumu was the preferred twin. it made sense to him, he was the more charismatic and somehow the more handsome one. even though they had the same face. even though atsumu insisted they were equals he always felt like the second-best in most things. but, there was always one thing he knew he was better at than his brother, and friends that he knew valued them both the same. “hey osamu,” you started, fidgeting with your hands again as you felt the male’s gaze on you, “thank you for talking to me. i feel better about it.”

osamu smiled just slightly, he was glad to hear that you were at least doing better. though he could still see you were a little down, he had an idea to fix that. he hopped off from the swing and walked behind you. the gray-haired male looked at you quickly, silently asking for permission to which you allowed with a nod. he gently pushed you on the swing, pushing harder with each time you swung back to him so that you’d swing higher and higher. the sensation of swinging back and forth brought a smile to your face, there was just something about it that could always bring a smile to your face.

the male stepped to the side to let you swing, glad to see you finally looking happy. he ended up swinging beside you, he wanted in on the fun as well. the two of you swung for a good while but had to stop because swinging and conversing was surprisingly difficult. you guys talked about the upcoming holidays and about where each of you lived since you had to both live somewhat near to each other. he even shared his insecurities about his brother, since you began to apologize for drumming your problems onto him. but then you guys got to the topic of food, and osamu talked about all the food he loves and how he wants to make so many dishes. you thought it was admirable to see him so passionate about it, and it was cute to see him ramble off. but sadly the two of you had to head back to your separate homes since it was getting late.

osamu walked you back to your house, finding out that you only lived a few houses down from his. you stopped outside of your house, asking to exchange contact information so you could stay in touch. after that, you parted ways so that you could go inside and osamu could go home. that day was terrible, there was no way to sugarcoat it. you had lost a group of friends all at once, but in return, you had made one that you knew you were going to be close to. but maybe one that could even progress to something further. you shook your head at the silly thought, trying not to get too caught up in the sudden thought. your life wasn’t a shoujo manga, no way. but maybe, just maybe, it would start to turn into one.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Tarnished Knights (one-shot)

Summary: Edge isn't really interested in reading whatever books Stretch seemed to think he needs. He has enough problems trying to read their relationship.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Complicated Relationships, Flirtation, Budding Love, Idiots in Love

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

“hey, edgelord, i found some books for you.”

Edge did not look up from the papers he had spread across the table. He was designing a new puzzle trap and hardly needed any distractions. Not that he shouldn’t have been expecting one. These days Stretch came over often when he knew Edge would be home from patrol, despite Edge’s discomfort at having him in Underfell. So long as he stayed inside the house, there should be no issues, but there was always a prickle of unease when he appeared, a brief moment where Edge resisted the urge to send him home to the safety of Underswap. Then he would remember why Stretch was visiting and that urge would vanish, tucked beneath a more visceral, and pleasurable, one.

Red tended to make himself scarce when Stretch was on a solo visit and while Edge didn’t care for him spending extra time at Grillby’s, he also didn’t blame him for his desertion. Stretch’s normal lazy behavior tended to vanish when it came to bedroom activities and instead were best described as both enthusiastic and loud.

Better that Red left, otherwise Edge might well be treated to another of his brother’s morning score reviews and the less he heard Red say things like ‘wails like a cat stuck in a beat-up aluminum trashcan at the end of an alley in downtown san francisco. gotta give ‘im 6 out of 10’, the better.

Stretch hadn’t asked before coming over, sending a text only moments before popping in as he often did. Ignoring him was always an exercise in futility, for a variety of reasons, but Edge tried. There was something to be said for anticipation, something delightful, and he intended to keep Stretch waiting as long as he could manage.

Despite his efforts, distraction still came in the form of a rumpled paper sack dropped down on table, right on top of his plans. Edge growled impatiently and shoved the bag out of his way, glaring up at his…well, that was a discussion for another day. His semi-clone from another universe would do for now, and said clone was smirking down at him with the stick of a lollipop poking out from between his teeth. Smoking in the house was verboten for both Edge and Blue, and so Stretch often found alternate means of keeping his mouth busy.

Both the innuendo in that and the sight of his tongue curling around the candy behind his teeth threatened another mental derailment and Edge hastily turned his attention to the bag at hand.

“I don’t need any books.”

Stretch made a scoffing sound and plopped down on the sofa with his legs sprawling apart, since sitting properly would have been reasonable and efficient, and Stretch was neither. “everybody needs books. books are the keys to the imagination and, buddy, you need to unlock a door.”

“There is nothing wrong with my imagination and I don’t need any more books,” Edge said. “I have my puzzle books.” And a tattered copy of ‘Peekaboo With Fluffy Bunny’ hidden away where prying eyes would not easily find it.

“oh, yeah, riveting,” Stretch snorted. He unwrapped another sucker and popped it into his mouth, the candy clacking against his teeth as he rolled it to one side. “that’ll get the ol’ imagination roaring like lions on your mind savannah.”

“I beg your pardon, are you suggesting your copy of the ‘Principles of Quantum Mechanics’ stimulates your imagination?”

“yeah, actually, but i also have a copy of this just in case that doesn’t do the trick.” He sat up and rummaged through the bag, yanked out a book to shove directly into Edge’s face. “it works some pretty good magic once you get into it.”

He leaned back enough to focus on the cover, “The Once and Future King,” Edge read aloud without enthusiasm. His experiences with kings were not something he wanted to repeat in his leisure time.

“yeah, yeah, i can feel your doubt. c’mon, you’ll like it, just give it a try. for me?” Stretch wheedled. He batted his sockets and despite the lack of eyelashes, it was not entirely ineffective.

If Edge’s interest in the book was middling, his interest in Stretch was not, lacking definition but not depth. Still, it didn’t pay to give in too easily, especially when it was someone else acquiring the debt.

“What do I get if I do?” Edge countered. From the way Stretch’s smirk widened, his sockets sinking down to hood his eye lights, he’d chosen well.

“well, all that book-learnin’ gave me a hell of an imagination.” Stretch pulled the half-eaten sucker out of his mouth and tossed it carelessly into the nearby trash bin without so much as looking at it. With the sly grace he so rarely showed, he pushed Edge back against the sofa and straddled his lap, tongue gliding over his teeth as he murmured, “bet i can think of something.”

The taste of his magic was sweeter than the candy, and coupled with that kiss, it was headily addictive. Edge forgot entirely about puzzles and kings and books, lying back and letting Stretch’s imagination sweep them away.

~~*~~

Much later that night, Stretch was curled up sleeping next to him and it was a good thing that once he was asleep, he tended to stay that way no matter what. Normally the tendency was (terrifying) annoying. He’d never have survived his childhood in Underfell.

Tonight, Edge found he was grateful for it because despite the unforeseen exercise of the past few hours, he found himself restless and unable to sleep. Normally he might get up and clean, a deep scrub of the bathroom tiles made for an excellent mindless chore, but Stretch staying over was a rare occurrence and he wanted to stay close by. If he woke and found himself alone, he might think himself unwelcome and that would go against Edge’s very much unspoken wish that he stay over more often rather than shambling off after sex with a faint limp and a laconic smile.

Asking for such a thing was more likely to get Stretch sprinting back to Underswap than wish fulfillment, so Edge said nothing and quietly hoped actions spoke louder than words, at least enough to either get through Stretch’s thick, brilliant skull or beneath his prickly, non-existent skin.

But none of that helped tonight. Sleep lingered out of reach and Edge rolled over again, sighing to himself as he stared out into his bedroom.

Artificial light streamed in through his barred window and landed on his desk, illuminating the contents. He’d tidied up the living room before they’d gone upstairs to finish what was started on the sofa —leaving any mess only gave Red leverage for maddening sock placement— and the bag of books was sitting on his desk, set there by Stretch as evidenced by its haphazard placement. It had fallen over and books were spilling out from the top.

Since getting up was out of the question, Edge reached out with his magic, clumsily using two bones like an oversized pair of chopsticks to grasp the book like a grain of rice. He made a mental note to work on that particular exercise again, who knew when it might come in handy, as he flicked on the small lamp on the bedside table. He’d try a page or two, if only to make Stretch happy, and then claim his reward for the attempt.

He opened the first page, already unimpressed with the first nonsensical sentence, and wondering why Stretch thought he would find this interesting. He hoped whatever reward he received for the attempt would be worth it.

Some hours later, his spine ached from hunching over the book that was gripped so tightly in his hands the pages occasionally threatened to tear. His eye sockets felt dry and gritty as he greedily scoured the last page and at the end, he stared at the final words, hardly able to believe there was no more. His mind was still awhirl with thoughts of knights and wizards, a fallible king who was worthy of following and yet still betrayed, honor earned and lost by those who were rich in virtue and brought down by their foibles.

“you liked it, huh.”

Edge startled, the book falling from his hands, and jerked around to see Stretch was watching him. He was still curled around the pillow, sunk into its soft depths with only one eye light visible from within a barely opened socket. Normally, that drowsy, inviting warmth was a temptation in itself, but this morning Edge’s thoughts were in turmoil.

Underfell was home, whether or not the people here wanted him, they certainly needed him, a tarnished knight to fight their battles, and here he would stay, stubbornly some (everyone) said, but weren’t there times he wished to escape it, if only briefly? Traveling to the other universes for a meal or for company, a chance to go somewhere else, be someone else, not the Great and Terrible Papyrus, but Edge, who was neither great nor terrible, and somehow still appreciated for it.

It never occurred to him he could leave without even stepping through his front door and bring his adventure back with him when he returned.

“Yes,” Edge admitted. “I did."

“yeah, i liked that one, too,” Stretch rolled onto his back, stretching out his long limbs beneath the blankets and letting out a satisfied groan as joints popped, “figured you might dig in.”

“Is that why you brought it?” Edge asked, curiously, “did you wonder if I would like it because you did?” When they’d first met the others, there had been some experimenting to determine the differences not only in their worlds, but in each other, down to their taste in condiments. That had dwindled off as they’d gotten to know each other, but he wouldn’t be surprised to learn Stretch still want to test a few theories.

Instead of agreeing, Stretch pushed up on an elbow in automatic protest, “no! i just—” That burst trailed off and he sank back down to the mattress, his face twisting in complex emotions.

Edge said nothing, only waited without demanding an answer. He wasn’t particularly skilled at reading others and worse when it came to Stretch, but he was slowly learning. If he didn’t press, there was a chance Stretch would give him an honest answer rather than a pun or some other deflection. It said less about himself and more Stretch’s issues when it came to any kind of emotional intimacy, but he still found himself holding his breath, almost superstitiously afraid of frightening him off.

Finally, Stretch shrugged, a certain forced carelessness in the roll of his shoulders. “i just wanted to give you something you’d like.” Then, a little softer, like a confession, “you deserve nice things.”

Edge glanced at the paper bag still sitting on his desk. He wouldn’t be able to stay up reading every night, only ones where the restlessness refused to abate, but that happened often enough and there were plenty of books still inside, more worlds to explore and adventures to be had.

Meanwhile, Stretch had been busily shoring up his defenses while Edge was distracted. His expression was closed off, set in the lines of his normal carefree easiness as he sat up, yawning deliberately. “seriously, edgelord, it’s only a damn book, don’t read too much into it. heh. anyway, i should head home so you can go on patrol.”

He should, time was creeping into late morning. Red was probably already napping at his sentry station. There was no reason for him to lean in and press his mouth to the tempting curve at the back of Stretch’s skull where it met his spine, except for the fact that he knew Stretch was sensitive there and always shivered at the lightest touch. He did now, a quiver rattling through his bones as he ducked his head to allow better access, a little groan catching in his throat.

“or not,” Stretch sighed out. He sank willingly back to the mattress with Edge following him down. His hands settled lightly on Edge’s back, fingertips drifting delicately against the scar-hewn bones with renewed promise.

At the cusp of giving in to temptation, Edge thought briefly of Arthur and Lancelot and Guinevere, their successes and mistakes, endings and the hope of new beginnings. Then he set those thoughts aside. As rich as that fantasy was, there was something to be said for reality and as he drew Stretch into his arms, Edge was content with his own.

For now.

-finis-

[radioduo]

i was there in your forgetting (until i was forgot) || dsmp become human

word count: ~1,900

notes: woo!! the title is much different from the others but i think i like it more lmao anyway, hopefully this is good? i wrote it kind of early in the morning lmao

warnings: i guess it counts as a hostage-type situation, but i don’t know what to call that exactly, so i won’t tag it, just be warned! there is also a brief mention of smoking

first // prev // next

Ranboo had forgotten how much distaste he had for rain until he was on his own. It was still dark outside, a little past midnight if he were to guess. Streetlights and storefronts stayed illuminated, luckily for him. Ranboo sat outside a café under a rain-soaked umbrella as he planned his next move. Niki had told him which way to go, but now his only issue was finding the right direction. He had never ventured far in the city before by himself. Now he was by his lonesome with no guidance and no idea where he was going.

He removed his gloves and absently traced a finger along the edges of the metal table as he murmured directions to himself. “East… Camden, and then north to-”

“Ferndale?”

Ranboo froze. He slowly turned his head around to look at the person behind him. A tall ginger man with white streaks in his hair stood behind him, his backlit up by the light of the café. He had a curious look in his dark brown eyes as he looked at the masked android. “Who are you?” Ranboo demanded.

The ginger didn’t answer right away. He wandered over to the seat on the opposite side of Ranboo and sat himself down before replying, “I’m Fundy,” he said. He must have noticed Ranboo’s unease because he quickly added, “Don’t worry! I’m an android too.” He held up his gloved hand. Ranboo watched in surprise as the “skin” retreated from his hand to reveal the porcelain white layer below. Fingerless gloves covered most of his palm, but Ranboo could tell that Fundy wasn’t lying. The newcomer’s LED blinked from under his black cap. “I was passing through here and noticed you sitting alone. I thought you might like some company,”

The tension in Ranboo’s shoulders was easing up a little. “Okay. If that does happen to be true, how did you know I was going to Ferndale?” he asked, narrowing his eyes behind his shades. “You shouldn’t have been able to know that.”

Fundy shrugged. “I have my ways,” he said airily. Mischief gleamed in his eyes. “You’re gonna want to get patched up before going on that trip,” Fundy suggested. “I can see the scarring on your hands.” Fundy pointed to Ranboo’s hands where the skin layer rippled like water over his knuckles and joints. “Doesn’t exactly seem like you’re in good shape,”

Ranboo grimaced beneath his dual-colored mask. “If you knew about the night I’ve had, you wouldn’t be surprised,” he muttered.

Fundy laughed, a sound reminiscent of a fox squeak. “Uh-huh?” His tone was light and playful. “Well, I’m sure it was terrible, but that’s not why I’m here.” He leaned forward in his chair. The light from the stores illuminated the ginger's face. “I know a guy who can fix you up,”

“Huh, that sounds trustworthy, for sure,” Ranboo twiddled his fingers. Fundy was treading a thin line between truth and deceit. “...who do you know?”

----------

“Ah,” Ranboo sighed. “I see.”

He looked down at the slip of paper Fundy had handed him before disappearing. The address was correct, so why did it feel so wrong to be there? The android looked back up at the looming building. It was not the most threatening exterior. The walls were white brick, and the front door was a cheery shade of yellow. Rain blurred some of his vision, but he could see a garden in the back of the house. An iron gate and an intercom blocked the entrance. Haltingly, Ranboo pressed a button on the keypad. A raucous buzzing sounded from the speakers.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the crackling static. “Can I help you?” An unknown woman asked. She had an accent from somewhere Ranboo couldn't put his finger on. Somewhere southern, perhaps?

O Yes

X No

Ranboo rubbed his hands together nervously.

O Yes

“I think you can. At least, someone told me you could,” he stated. He noticed his face on a small screen, presumably the woman's view of him. Ranboo noticed how disheveled he looked, hair mussed up and clothes dirty. He frowned beneath the mask.

There was a pause, and then, “Honey, I don’t know what you think this place is, but I suggest you go home for the night. I don’t appreciate you kids playin’ tricks on me.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” He held a hand up in desperation. Removing his glove, he put his scarred hand up to the screen. “I need your help,” he said quietly. “Please?”

There was an awkward silence, and with no warning, the iron gate began to slide open. Ranboo breathed a sigh of relief. He approached the front door brightly. He was about to knock, fist poised over the door when it suddenly swung open to reveal a tall blonde woman.

“Hello, darlin’,” she drawled. Her accent was much thicker in person, and clouds of cigarette smoke puffed from her mouth now and then. “Come on in! Make yourself at home here. I’ll get my husband and he can fix you right up,” she explained, ushering him into the house.

O Accept

X Refuse

Ranboo cast an anxious glance behind him. As predicted, he was alone with no one but the lady and the rain for company.

O Accept

Ranboo followed the blonde into the living room. He had to admit, the home was comfortable. The fireplace was roaring, and there were throw blankets and pillows scattered around the couch. “Th-thanks?” He called after her as he watched the woman vanish into the next room. He sat in a pillowy chair tentatively and glanced around.

The curtains were smoky gray, and the wooden floors were were the color of freshly made caramel. There was a record player in the corner with shimmering golden accents. Vintage, he noticed. It was made in 1996, if he had to guess, about thirty years ago. A low tune was playing quietly that almost felt foreboding. Ranboo was about to get up and inspect the purple and white striped disc when the door was cast open.

“Well, well, well!” A deep, booming voice cut through the soft music. A man in a cream button-down shirt and suspenders made his grand entrance and set himself on an armchair across from Ranboo. “I hear we have a visitor? It’s nice to meet a young android like you. I’m Alan Devon, and this is my wife Adeline.” he gestured to the blonde lady that stood behind him. He held a hand out to the brown-haired android.

Ranboo took the man’s hand and eyed him cautiously.

Alan Devon

Age: 51

Height: 6’2”

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Ranboo replied slowly. “I, uh, I heard that you were able to do android repairs?” He said, fiddling with his gloves.

Alan chuckled. “Not just able, son, I’m an expert at this sort of thing. I used to be the second in command at CyberLife. I helped design the very first android ever created, TU880?” Silence met his words, and he continued talking. “What I’m trying to say is that I am more than qualified to fix up your hand.” He stood up from his white armchair and headed towards a door at the back of the room. “If you follow me, we can get started on repairs right away!”

Ranboo watched Alan descend the dark staircase. The sensible part of his mind told him to run.

O Follow him

X Don’t follow him

Considering the night he’d had, Ranboo couldn’t exactly say he was feeling sensible.

O Follow him

He pulled himself off the couch and past the record player. Mellohi, he noted. Huh. With a deep breath, he gripped the railing and followed after the middle-aged man, a quiet determination settling in him.

The flight of stairs was shorter than he expected. At the bottom of the steps sat a large room full of spare parts and pieces of androids. Strewn about the room were LEDs, thirium pumps, and audio processors. Ranboo almost tripped over a stray limb. He shuddered in disgust.

“Here,” Alan pointed to the large machine at the front of the room. “Step up onto this and we can get started,” he ordered coldly.

Ranboo did as he was told, albeit reluctantly. He gasped in surprise as robotic arms grabbed his wrists and pinned them to his side. Another arm placed itself firmly on his head, keeping it still. “What is this?” Ranboo asked shakily.

Alan didn’t respond for a second as he pressed an array of buttons on a keypad next to Ranboo. Finally, he looked back up at the captive android with his too-wide smile and too-bright eyes. “Don’t you know, son?” He asked. “Lesson one: never trust a stranger,” he pressed a green button on the keypad. “Or anyone, for that matter.”

The machine jerked Ranboo's head back swiftly. “What are you doing?” he yelped. The robotic arm was sifting around through the wires and gears in the android's neck. “Aren’t you-”

“No talking,” Alan said firmly, which Ranboo assumed was his polite way of telling him to shut the hell up. “We don’t take kindly to androids in my house, you hear?” He muttered something to himself as he wandered away from where Ranboo was struggling on his own. “Androids were my idea! Who do you think gave that blue-eyed bastard the idea to build that piece of rubbish? Not to mention one of your kind killed my son.”

Ranboo stiffened as the metal claw poked his memory card. “What are you talking about?

Alan dodged the question. “I’m wiping your memory. Once that’s gone, you’ll forget you were ever a deviant, and I can dismantle you.” He smiled. “I’m going to build the most sophisticated piece of AI with these spare parts, mark my words.” He smoothed the wrinkles in his shirt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a drink. Don’t even think about leaving, or you’ll be sorry.”

Ranboo wasn’t sure what awaited him if he tried to leave, but he was willing to risk it if it meant freedom. As soon as his captor was out of sight, Ranboo began struggling against the metal claws that held him in place. The machine gripped his memory chip and began to pull. Ranboo winced and tried to move his neck away, but to no avail. The chip disconnected from his system, and Ranboo could feel his memories corrupting.

All the faces he used to recognize blurred together. Niki, Sam, Fundy, slipping away like sand through his fingers. He grimaced as he felt the metal claws relax their grip on his arms and head. Ranboo wriggled his way out of their grasp and stepped down from the platform. He had a minute before all of his system memory was corrupted. Ranboo frowned as he grabbed the memory card. He wasn't able to put it back in himself. He pocketed it and looked around. His adrenaline was fading, and with it went his memories. He scanned the bleak basement. His options were limited. Wait for the Devons, escape through the front door, or find-

The back door, he thought as a plain white door caught his eye. Hope blossomed in his chest again. I can leave.

He rushed to the door silently and was about to tug on the handle when he heard the door open again. Ranboo tensed.

O Leave

X Stay

[roman-writing]

bring home a haunting (3/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 27,332

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

Where once Dani had imagined scenarios of breathlessly rounding a corner to find Jamie there, only to find an empty space and a sense of something — frustration? anger? relief? feigned indifference? disappointment? — now Jamie would be there. Every time. As though their schedules had aligned, suddenly and without warning. Dani couldn't tell if this was a blessing or a curse. Perhaps a mix of both. 

Or — what was it Judy had said? Kismet. 

Dani drove up to the gas station and stepped out of the car. Stanley, the local attendant, jogged out to fill up the tank, and Dani thanked him with a smile. It was an overcast Saturday, but she had dinner at the O'Mara household to look forward to later that evening, and Eddie was off in the next town over helping Tommy build a new deck. Leaving Stanley to handle the car, Dani walked into the shop to idly peruse items she had no intention of buying while she waited. 

Her fingertips were ghosting over the frames of sunglasses that had been on display for at least seven years, when a truck with faded green paint puttered into the row beside her car. Dani's brow furrowed; she didn't recognize that car, and she recognized all the regular cars in this town. Either someone was passing through, needing a top up on their way to some more worldly destination, or someone new had — oh. 

Oh, no. That was Jamie. Jamie was jumping from the high seat, boots hitting the concrete. That was Jamie slamming the door shut and giving Stanley a wave as she made her way into the shop. Before she knew precisely what she was doing, Dani's hand had curled around a pair of large sunglasses and she was sliding them over her face. She angled herself away from the door with the pretense of admiring the glasses in the small smudged mirror perched atop the display rack. 

Behind her the bell jingled. The sound of heavy footsteps and the brush of a draught as the door swung shut once more. Dani held her breath, eyes flicking up towards the mirror. She could see the reflection of Jamie's legs angled in the glass. Even when Jamie turned and strode towards the counter, Dani could feel the tension in her own shoulders until she was wound tight as a spring. 

There was the slap of the service bell and Jamie's unmistakable voice calling out, "Hunter! I know you're back there! C'mon! I'm trying to give you actual money here!" 

The door to the back room swung open, and Dani could hear a sigh. "Jamie," said Hunter, sounding weary. "You couldn't wait five minutes for Stanley?" 

"He's busy, and I need oil." 

"I just sold you some last week." 

"What? Is there a ration enforcement in these parts? Are we still at war with ze Germans? Didn't anyone tell you? That shit's all over, mate." 

"I'm not that old." 

"Bullshit, you aren't," Jamie said, and even without seeing her face Dani could see the teasing grin that came with her tone. "I've seen those medals you parade around every Veteran's Day." 

"Those are for Korea, you dunce." 

"Really? Always thought it was for those damn Boers." 

"All right. All right. I'll get your damn oil. You happy?" He began to stomp back through the rear door. "How many bottles do you need this time?" 

"Make it six," Jamie answered. "Best be safe, yeah?” 

Whatever he grumbled in answer, Dani couldn't hear. She kept her shoulders hunched, reaching for another pair of sunglasses — bigger this time — and jammed them atop the bridge of her nose. Through the windows she could see Stanley finish up with her car, replacing the cap, and then move to Jamie's. Clearly he intended to ring them both up at the same time. Made sense, but that didn't stop her from wishing she could slip away without Jamie noticing her presence. Maybe she could just lie and say she left her wallet at home, drive away, and then come back to pay later when the station was decidedly Jamie-free. 

Jamie herself had vanished from the little mirror. Dani's ears pricked, and she glanced around as surreptitiously as she dared while maintaining the illusion of shopping. There, at the corner of her vision, she could see the slope of Jamie's profile moving through the only two aisles in the whole place. Dani shuffled around in an attempt to keep her back facing Jamie, rather than turn the display rack. She kept her gaze fixed on the mirror, and tried to remain as quiet and unassuming as possible. 

"Don't reckon that pair suits you much." 

With a jerk, Dani glanced over her shoulder. Jamie was leaning her elbows on the short aisle dividing the space between them. She had clearly been shuffling through the magazine section, for she held the latest Wonder Woman comic book edition in her hands, along with some other magazine that bore bold red text over a picture of Cher’s face.

"Oh," said Dani. "Hi, Jamie." 

Jamie did not answer immediately. Instead, she withdrew and wandered around the aisle to stand beside Dani. She tucked the comic book and magazine under one arm, and lifted a hand to point at various sunglasses in silent judgement. Her lips were pursed in thought. She shook her head, pointed to the next, made a face, pointed to the next, and then finally - 

"These," Jamie said, pulling down a pair of pink-rimmed glasses. "Try these." 

Clearing her throat, Dani took off the pair she was currently wearing. Jamie had unfolded the pink sunglasses and was holding them out towards Dani for her to put on. Dani ducked her head slightly to let Jamie slip the sunglasses into place. 

"Oh, yeah," Jamie said. "Those are the ones." 

One hand still occupied with the other pair, Dani reached up to push the ones she wore further up her nose. "Better?" 

"Worse. So much worse." Jamie grinned. "You should definitely buy them." 

With a snort of laughter, Dani pulled them off and put both sets back on the rack. "Still giving out terrible fashion advice, I see." 

Jamie shrugged, the corner of her mouth curled in a grin. "Keeps me honest." 

Turning towards the rack, Dani plucked a pair of vibrant chemical green sunglasses with triangular frames, and held them out to Jamie. "I'll buy the pink ones if you buy these." 

Without a lick of hesitation, Jamie took the sunglasses and donned them. She looked at herself in the mirror. "Really bring out my striking personality, don't they?" 

Dani was biting at her lower lip to keep herself from laughing. "Oh, absolutely. People will see you coming from a mile away now." 

"I was thinking I could use them to direct traffic when the grid goes out. Are they glow in the dark?" Jamie pulled them off to check the tag. 

Before Dani could answer, the door opened and Stanley entered. He looked over at the two of them. "You're all done, ladies. Who should I ring up first?" 

Dani pointed at Jamie, who pointed back at her. 

"No, really," insisted Dani. "You should -" 

"Nah. I'm still waiting on that oil from Hunter. Go on." 

And as if summoned, Hunter reappeared from the back room with a case of oil beneath one arm. 

"Didn't just have six bottles lying around," he said, moving behind the till and scanning the box into the system. "Had to scrounge around in storage. Let's go, Taylor. I don’t got all day." 

He waved at Jamie to approach, like a king beckoning forth a serf. 

"Guess that answers that question, then," Jamie said. She gave Dani an apologetic smile, then strode over to the counter. 

When she placed the two magazines and the sunglasses down, Dani blinked in surprise. "You're not honestly buying those, are you?" Dani asked, stepping into line behind her. 

Hunter rang up all the items, and Jamie passed over some cash. "'Course I am," she said. "The kid'll love them." 

Hunter gave Jamie her change, at which point Jamie stacked the magazines atop the cardboard box of oil and swept them all up beneath her arm. Then, she whipped the garish sunglasses over her nose and ears, said, "Ta," and sauntered out of the service station like she owned the place. 

Dani was still staring after her when Hunter asked, "Was there anything else you wanted?" 

Dani jolted as if from a daydream. She shook her head. "Uh - no. Thanks, Mr. Thompson. I'll see you at Church tomorrow." 

By the time she had paid and walked out to her car, Jamie was gone.

 --

Dani didn’t even have to wait for the end of the day before another run in. No sooner had she stepped into the O'Mara house, than Judy was sighing about having forgotten to pick up onions for dinner. Dani immediately held out her hand for the shopping list, saying, "I'll go. You stay." and Judy gratefully handed it over.

"You're a star," said Judy, pressing a kiss to Dani's cheek and cash into Dani's hand.

"It's no problem," Dani said with a laugh, already heading back towards the front door where her car awaited, parked on the street outside.

Carson trotted after her, intent on coming along to keep Dani company. And also, she suspected, to have free reign over her stereo, where he could blast the latest pop tunes without anyone in the house telling him to keep it down. With a shake of her head and a small smile, Dani drove them down to the supermarket.

It should have been a quick jaunt. Grab what they needed and head back home for dinner. In and out. Completely uneventful.

Dani was bickering with Carson in the produce aisle, when she saw her. Eyes going wide, Dani immediately dropped down to a crouch beside the display of potatoes.

"What are we doing?" Carson whispered loudly as he crouched down beside her. "Did you drop something? Oh, look, I found a quarter."

"That's - uh - That's nice," Dani said, not really paying any attention to him as she lifted her head to peer over the potato display as though peering over the parapets, fearful of incoming gunfire.

Carson did the same, and his eyes lit up. "Hey, is that Jamie? Mom mentioned she was back in town -"

"Shh!" Dani tugged him back down by the back of his leather jacket until the both of them sat on the ground, their backs pressed against a fruit stand.

Carson gave her an odd look. "Okay, this is not what I expected."

"What do you mean?" Dani asked, not really paying him much attention. She dared to peek around the corner, but Jamie must have moved along to a different aisle; she was nowhere in sight.

"Well, for starters, I thought you'd be glad to see her again. Not -" Carson gestured to her with one hand. "- Doing whatever this is."

The tiles were cold beneath her. Dani met his gaze and held it for a moment before turning away once more. "It's complicated."

"Complicated? You two were glued at the hip."

"Yeah, and then she left," Dani said far more sharply than she had intended.

Carson held up both hands in surrender, quarter still stuck between the fingers of his left hand. "Okay. Okay. None of my business, clearly." When she didn't answer him, he said in a low voice, "So, how long are we going to wait here? It's just — I'm hungry. And I am contemplating eating raw spuds at the moment, so -"

"What the hell are you two doing down there?"

And for the second time in less than twenty four hours, Dani nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound of Jamie's voice. She craned her neck to find Jamie leaning over a display of garlic and shallots to stare at them in bewilderment. 

Immediately, Carson gave the quarter a flick into the air with his thumb and caught it again. “Found this.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose and she grinned. “Not bad. And you are -?”

Pushing himself upright, Carson pocketed the quarter and said, “Aw. Don’t recognize me for my devilish good looks? I’m wounded, Jamie.” 

For a moment Jamie’s forehead furrowed in bemusement, and then her eyes widened. “Holy shit. Carson? No way.” 

He laughed, arms opening for a hug which she stepped into without hesitation. While they were having their happy little reunion, Dani rose to her feet and surreptitiously brushed off the backs of her legs, trying to not appear as out of place as she felt. Jamie and Carson parted with hearty pats on the back and full smiles. Jamie let her hand linger on his shoulder for a moment before lowering her arm.

"Look at you," she said appraisingly. "Christ, but you shot up, didn't you? Still the shortest brother, I see."

"Hey, fuck you," he said but his grin only widened. "I bet you're the shortest of the group now. Hey, Dani! Stand beside her and let's see who's taller."

Hesitant, Dani did as she was told. She and Jamie stood back to back, while Carson measured their heights with the flat of his hand. It was like being back in Judy's house as kids, marking growth spurts in pencil on the wall that Judy refused to repaint as the years dragged on, so that to this day it was littered with marks. Except this time, Dani and Jamie were very careful not to touch. Dani could feel the brush of Jamie's bulky jacket against the back of her arm, and she jerked her hand away immediately.

"Hate to break it to you," Carson said to Jamie, "but you're now officially The Shortest. God rest your soul, Jamie Taylor. I hardly knew ye."

When Dani turned back around it was to find Jamie looking genuinely horrified at this news.

"Come off it!" Jamie said, and she checked Dani's legs. "You're wearing heels, aren't you?"

Shaking her head, Dani lifted one foot to prove that she stood in simple flats, whilst Jamie herself wore thick-soled leather work boots encrusted with mud.

"Fuck me," Jamie muttered, while Carson laughed mockingly at her.

Dani cleared her throat and reached for a pre-packaged bag of white onions from the display. "Hey, Carson, we should -" she said with a jerk of her head towards the exit. "Your mom's waiting for us back home to bring these."

His eyes lit up and he turned to Jamie. "You should come over! You know mom. There's always room for one more at the dinner table."

For a brief terrifying second, Dani thought Jamie was actually going to accept his offer, but Jamie only shook her head. “Nah. I got to get back home to the kid before he burns the place down. Some other time, maybe.”

Jamie gave them each a nod, and then continued on her way, picking up a plastic shopping basket as she went. Dani watched her go, jaw tight. When Jamie had rounded the far aisle and vanished from sight, Dani turned to find that Carson was watching her instead. 

“What?” Dani asked, fingers tightening around the netted packaging in her grasp. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

“No,” Dani lied. “It was fine.” 

Carson smiled at her, indulgent and gentle, before nudging her. “I wasn’t lying about starving to death, though. Come on.”

Rolling her eyes, Dani followed him to the register to pay.

 --

It was nearly six in the evening when Dani finally tore herself away from her desk at school the next week. She had run out of papers to mark and classes to plan, no matter what she told herself to the contrary. There was always more work to do, but even she could not deny that there was nothing more to be accomplished now. Not when she could hardly concentrate enough to do more than twirl a pen between her fingers and ignore the growling of her own stomach.

She should go home. She should make dinner. She should do the dishes. Hell, she should probably vacuum. And yet here she was, grasping at any straw that might detain her for another five minutes.

With a sigh, she pushed away from the desk and rose to her feet. Packing everything away, she slung her bag over one shoulder and left, stopping to lock up the classroom behind her. The halls of the school were empty. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows and washed the floor in golden tones that warmed her ankles with every step. As she trotted down the stairs leading to the front door of the school — the janitor would lock up everything at seven, she knew — Dani paused.

Mikey Taylor was still seated against the trunk of a tree on the front lawn. His head rose and he waved in a bored manner towards her. Dani lifted her hand in return. She almost took a step in his direction, before with a shake of her head she steered herself away towards where her car was parked in the staff lot.

It wasn't her business, she told herself sternly. How Jamie raised her little brother was Jamie's prerogative. Never mind that Mikey shouldn't be sitting out here alone for nearly three hours, waiting to be picked up. Never mind that the school library closed at four, kicking out any loitering kids. Lips pressed into a narrow line, Dani yanked open her car door and threw her bag into the passenger seat. It wasn't any of her business. Jamie had made that clear enough ten years ago.

Dani shut the door behind her with a little more force than was strictly necessary. The keys jangled as she stuck one into the ignition. One hand on the steering wheel, the other on the key, Dani paused. From here, she could just see Mikey over the dashboard. He had taken to tearing up grass and making a pile on the ground.

Dani firmly ignored him as best she could, and turned the key. Her car sputtered and groaned. She stopped, then turned the key again, only to be faced with the same results.

"Come on," she muttered, gripping the steering wheel tight.

This time when she turned the key, the engine gasped to life, followed by an awful grinding noise. Dark noxious smoke started to eek up from the seams of the hood. Dani groaned and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel, while the car shuddered beneath her seat. She would need to go back inside to ring a towing company and then ring Eddie and ask him to come get her. Doubtless, he would spend the whole ride home complaining about her car and how she should give it up. 

Great. Just when she thought this day couldn’t get any worse.

Someone rapped on her window. Dani’s head jerked up. She blinked out the driver’s seat window at the sun-drenched silhouette of Jamie Taylor standing just outside. Dani’s hands flexed against the wheel. She squeezed her eyes shut and breathed in, but then Jamie was tapping at the window again with the back of her knuckles. Opening her eyes, Dani wound down the window.

"Not that I should tell you how to live your life," said Jamie by way of greeting, "but you should really turn off the engine."

Dani twisted the key in the ignition, and the car spluttered and died. The dark smoke that had been threading from the hood was now beginning to fade, though she could still smell something acrid on the air.

Jamie had shifted somewhat so that the sunlight now lanced directly into Dani's eyes. Dani squinted out the window, lifting one hand to shield her brow, and said, "Hi."

"Mind if I have a look?" Jamie asked, gesturing towards the front of the car.

"What?"

"Your engine. Mind if I check?"

"Oh. It's - You really don't have to,” Dani stumbled over the words. “I was just about to run back inside to call a tow -”

“I don’t mind,” said Jamie, briefly glancing at Mikey, who was now sitting in a green truck parked on the street. “Reckon the kid won’t mind either. What’s a few more minutes?”

Finally, Dani gave a relenting nod. "Yeah. Sure. Thanks."

Jamie was already rounding the car to stand before it, her fingers searching beneath the seam of the hood. "Can you pop the bonnet? Should be a lever or summint in there."

Dani scouted around until she found the lever Jamie was speaking of, and the hood popped open with a lurch. She opened the car door and stepped out as Jamie was lifting the hood with a groan of metal on metal and holding it in place with a steel arm latch. The moment she hoisted it up, a cloud of oily smoke bloomed forth, and Jamie waved it away with a cough and a screwed up face. 

"Fuck. That's bleedin' awful," Jamie muttered to herself.

Arms wrapped around herself, Dani moved to stand by one of the front tires. "He's been waiting out here for a while," she said, nodding towards the green truck. "I - uh - I tend to keep an eye on him. From the classroom, I mean. I can see the front lawn from my classroom."

"'Fraid there's not much I can do about that," Jamie said, already bending over to poke around in Dani's engine. "I work long shifts at the botanical gardens. Got to make a living somehow."

"Yeah, but - It's a long time, is all I'm saying."

Gingerly, Jamie touched some sort of spout and unscrewed a cap so she could pull out a long narrow stick of metal from the engine. "Yeah? He say anything to you about it?"

"Well, no," Dani admitted.

"Anybody pick on him?"

"No."

Jamie shrugged, still not looking up from where she worked. "If he's that keen to get home earlier then, he can walk. I used to walk further to school everyday. Remember?"

Nodding, Dani sat on the edge of the car, careful not to get any grime on her skirt from the exposed engine. The car had been sitting in the sunlight for so long, she could feel the burn of metal through the fabric of her skirt. "Yeah," she sighed, shifting slightly so that she wasn’t leaning her full weight on the car. "Yeah, I remember."

Silence fell between them. Dani watched idly as Jamie did this and that, wishing she knew anything at all about cars. Jamie's overalls and band shirt were already dirty, the jean material streaked with mud. An errant leaf was stuck to the sole of Jamie's boots, and her hair was tied back from her face with a bandana. Dani chewed at her lower lip, glancing away when Jamie bent over further so that the torn collar of her t-shirt revealed her collarbones and a length of silver chain disappearing beneath the fabric.

"How long's it been like this?" Jamie asked.

"About six months now," said Dani. "I just got it out of the shop a few weeks ago, but nothing seems to stick."

"Well, whoever worked on it last clearly did a shit job if it's still doing this."

Dani bit back a swell of embarrassment. The mechanic had been under the recommendation of Eddie, and it wasn't as though there were many mechanics to choose from in a place like this. Not any that would take her seriously on her own, anyway.

"Trust me," Dani said, "This is an improvement."

"That bad, huh? Can't make any promises that this'll do much, then. Might be able to patch it, if we’re lucky."

"I thought you could fix anything," Dani replied, unable to keep back a small grin, and something like lead dropped in her stomach at the familiarity of the comment. 

Jamie paused, eyes flicking up to meet hers, standing frozen for a moment. Dani could feel the smile slide from her face, and Jamie turned her attention back to the engine. 

“Would if I could,” Jamie finally said. “But I’m no mechanic. Just a bit of a gearhead in my spare time.” 

Wringing her hands together in her lap, Dani said, "Thank you anyways."

"No problem, Poppins."

Hearing that old nickname again was like an electric shock, like a current racing up her spine and buzzing at the nape of her neck. Dani twisted the gold band of the engagement ring around her finger and bit her tongue to keep herself from saying something she would regret. 

“Well, now,” Jamie grunted a while later, arm still half-buried in the engine of Dani’s poor car, “There’s one problem, right there. Your rear main seal’s leaking all over the place.”

“And that’s -” Dani said slowly, “- bad?”

Jamie continued poking around, leaned over so far she was standing on her toes now to crane her neck and see past all the bits and bobs Dani couldn’t name if her life depended on it. “It’s not great. I don’t suppose you’ve noticed a trail of oil in your garage or driveway? After you’ve parked, maybe?”

Dani nodded.

Even after receiving confirmation, Jamie stepped back in order to crouch down and look beneath the car. “Yeah, there’s some here, too. Thought as much.”

Dani asked, “How bad are we talking here?”

Straightening with a shrug, Jamie wiped at her cheek with the back of one hand, leaving a streak of oil in its wake. She leaned over the engine for another poke around inside. “Means you’ve been slowly running out of oil since you last took this to the shop. If it were the front main seal, it would be an easy fix, but this -” She hissed and yanked her hand back from the hot metal exterior she’d touched, “- ow! Fuck!” Jamie waved her hand through the air for a few seconds before diving back in. “This is a big job. Got to remove the transmission, the clutch, the fly wheel — you get the picture. Hours and hours of work just to get at a five dollar seal. Nothing I can do about it here.” 

“Do I need to call a tow?” Dani asked, already wincing at the bill that was yet to come. 

“Nah,” said Jamie, leaning back and standing up straight. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “I have some oil in my boot. Should be enough to get you home, but you’ll need to have it looked at sharpish.” 

Drawing in a deep breath, Dani nodded. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. Maybe Eddie was right. Maybe it was just time to sell it. Maybe it wasn’t worth anything but scrap. Maybe -

“Hey.” 

Dani jerked her head up. 

Jamie had undone the bandana and was now using it to wipe off her hands. Her brows were furrowed, watching Dani with an expression of distant concern, as though afraid to get too close but idling just an arm's length away. Without the bandana, her hair was a mess of fly-aways wisping about her face. Dani had to throttle the urge to reach out and smooth them back. Maybe if it had been a decade ago. But not here, and not now.

Jamie tilted her chin up in a nod towards Dani. "You all right there? Got that look. One that says you're too deep in your own head."

Dani cleared her throat. Her hands itched to move, so she occupied them by running them through her own hair with a sigh of frustration. "Yeah. It's - It's nothing. Really. My car's been having a lot of problems lately, and -" She cut herself off, then laughed ruefully. "It's going to sound stupid, but I just don't have the heart to sell it, you know? So —"

Dani let her hands fall back to her side, but even then they fidgeted; her ragged thumbnails running along each individual pad of her fingertips.

"So," Jamie said slowly. "Buy a new one."

Dani's mouth dropped open, but the words escaped her.

"What? Don't have enough money?" Jamie asked, sounding incredulous. "I know they don't pay you that poorly here. And didn't you just sell your old house?"

"How do you -? How do you know that?"

Jamie gave her a look. "Dani. Please. You think there are secrets? In this town?"

For some reason that simple statement sent a shiver of apprehension down Dani's spine, coiling in her gut like a live snake. She swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders. "I know North Liberty isn't London or anything, but it's not that small."

"If there are more than two thousand people in this place, I'll eat that rear main seal of yours," said Jamie, swatting at the exposed engine with her grimy bandana.

Glaring, Dani huffed and crossed her arms. "It's not the money."

Jamie was winding the bandana round and round the knuckles of one hand. She looked so at ease, leaning against the front of Dani's car, engine oil on her face, one booted foot propped back against the rusty bumper. She could have been a poster. "What's it then?"

Dani lifted her chin. "None of your business."

Jamie blinked, taken aback, eyebrows raised. "Wow." She laughed, but the sound held no real mirth. "Right. Well. Suppose it isn't."

Dani glanced away, arms tightening around her midriff. When Jamie pushed off of the car and began walking away, bandana slung over one shoulder, Dani said, "Where are you going?"

Jamie did not stop. "To get that engine oil."

The little frisson of fear was joined by a curdling guilt and shame. Dani ground her teeth. Her fingers tapped a staccato rhythm against her opposite rib cage, counting seams in bone. There was the banging of a truck door, a scuffling about followed by muffled swearing — ‘Mikey, hand me the - thanks, mate’ — then Jamie was striding back towards her with a squared blue bottle in one hand. 

“I’m sorry,” Dani said, when Jamie had come back into earshot. 

Already Jamie was shaking her head, not looking in Dani’s direction as she made a beeline towards the car. “What was I going to do?” she asked. “Up and leave you stranded here? For the vultures?” Jamie unscrewed the bottle and gestured with the cap towards the empty suburban street filled with sunlight and white picket fences. “It’s bloody dangerous in these parts, you know. Take my life into my own hands even dropping off the kid every day.”

Unable to help herself, Dani gave a huff of laughter. Jamie still wasn’t looking in her direction, but Dani could see the smirk from the slant of her profile as she began pouring oil in what Dani presumed was the right place. Dani watched. She loitered. She brought her hand up to her mouth, realized what she was doing, and dropped it firmly to her side again. In no time at all, Jamie straightened, screwing everything back into place and lowering the rod that held up the hood of the car so that she could drop that, too, and latch it into place by leaning atop it with one palm. The vehicle dipped over its front wheels, suspension squeaking slightly.

When Jamie turned, Dani held her breath and waited for some kind of backlash. 

Jamie patted the hood of the car. “Better take the old girl home, eh?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I will.”

“Wasn’t talking to you,” Jamie said, and her grin was soft. Dani stumbled for a reply, and could form none. 

When Jamie made a motion as though she was going to walk back towards her own truck, Dani blurted out, “Thank you.” 

Jamie’s footsteps faltered for a split second, but then she was continuing on her way. As she passed Dani, she said, “Good night.” 

“Night,” Dani heard herself say as if from miles away. 

 --

The drive home for the most part was uneventful; the car creaked and rattled with every sharp turn of the corner, the old air freshener hanging from her rear view mirror swung gently, and the streets were clear from the evening traffic rush. A normal drive, interspersed with the events of the last few days like a broken film reel on loop. Every single expression that crossed Jamie’s face, the things Dani said or could’ve said, the steady confidence in Jamie’s hands as they delved into her car’s engine. 

At a stoplight, Dani’s eyes strayed to the ring on her finger, the evening sun making it glitter bright. Her stomach twisted tight, and an eyedropper of uncertainty rippled through her. When the noise in her head became too loud, she flicked on the radio where the station Carson had set still played, the sound of Madonna blaring through her tinny speakers and filling the cabin. She set the volume high, and let it carry her the rest of the way home. 

Home, which happened to be a two storey house painted white with dark green shutters and a grey tiled roof, with too neat of a green lawn and a white picket fence. Eddie’s dream house. When he had finalized the deal, he'd picked her up in a rib crushing hug and spun her around, laughing. The day they finally got the keys and moved in, he had insisted on carrying her through the front door and bellowed, “Honey, I’m home!” into the empty house, the sound echoing and loud. She had laughed then, happy to see him so happy. Happy to be a part of that moment with him. Now, as she sat in her idling car in the driveway, staring up at the house, a part of her wished that he'd asked, just once, if she had liked it at all, too. 

She shook off the feeling and pressed the remote clipped to the sun visor to open the garage door and park the car inside. She sat there for a moment, listening to the radio play when the thought suddenly occurred to her — wondering if Jamie still listened to that same jarring music she used to adore. The same kind of music she would play on the boombox shared between the boys, laughing as Eddie and David winced at the aggressive sounds while Carson and Tommy nodded along. Dani particularly didn’t feel one way or the other, merely enjoyed how much fun they seemed to have. 

She cut the engine, leaving her in silence. She stepped out of the car and entered the house, debating with herself the entire way. Eddie wasn’t home yet, the house somehow emptier and colder without him there as a buffer to the long shadows cast against the walls and floors from the evening sun. There was a wariness to her entry, being alone in a house that seemed to have a will of its own, like being locked in a room with a voiceless stranger, trying to get to know one another and utterly failing. Dani set down her car keys and purse with an apologetic wince at the clatter of metal against tile. Shaking herself of the feeling that she was being watched, she went in search of Jamie's old mixtape.

She’d have to go looking for Eddie’s walkman as well, having no idea where he had placed it last. Maybe she could ask him when he came home. The thought made her pause, mid-way through shedding her heels and blazer, acid building in her stomach just at the idea of explaining why she suddenly needed to listen to a tape a decade old. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, cursing under her breath before delving deeper in the house to press play on the answering machine as she went through her evening routine instead.

The crackling sound of tinny voices accompanied her throughout the house like absent ghosts. Dani only vaguely paid attention to the words: messages from Eddie’s friends with plans for dinner parties and dates, Judy reminding them of forgotten tupperware, a tipsy Carson trying to convince them to come to his next show as music blared in the background, Eddie’s coworker reminding him of important dates, Eddie — 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie’s voice echoed through the house, thin and staticky from the machine, “I know you’ll be home before me today, so I just wanted to let you know not to get started on dinner tonight. I’ll be bringing home something. I have some great news. Love you, see you soon.”

And then the house dropped silent once again. Dani sighed, already midway through preparing leftovers from Judy. It was like a sign, a ticking clock counting down ominously, compelling her to abandon the leftovers back in the fridge and leading her towards the corner of the house where she had temporarily placed the simple wooden box without any idea of where else to put it. The idea of hiding it in the closet she shared with Eddie left her skin crawling; it had no place there, not where she already shared so much of herself with him. The attic or basement didn’t feel right either, like she was tucking away those memories, like something to be abandoned. Instead, she had placed it where other stacks of boxes were piled, unopened and forgotten, in a corner in the dining room. A place she knew Eddie hadn’t bothered to touch for weeks, too busy setting up the other vast rooms of the house. 

She twisted her hands as she was lured towards it — like a shining bright beacon, like a lighthouse on storm-battered shores — but when she turned into the dining room, she slowed, her heart plummeting to her stomach. The corner was empty. Void of any labeled cardboard boxes. Her brows furrowed as she stepped towards the corner, a cold sweat sweeping over her skin. 

“Shit,” Dani muttered, her heart crashing against her ribs, her hands clenched into fists.

She spun around on her heels, searching every corner of the room, scattered with an assortment of their shared belongings along the walls and around the long dining table. She rummaged through it all, her hands trembling, panic rising in her throat like bile. 

“Shit,” she repeated, when she came up empty, her breathing heavy.

She ran through the logical possibilities, her mind racing. Eddie decided to finally tackle the dining room. Eddie packed away the contents of the cardboard boxes. Eddie found her box. Eddie opened it to glean its contents. Eddie threw it away.

No. No, he wouldn’t do that. For all his own feelings regarding Jamie, she knew he wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t crack open and toss away the beating heart of Dani’s memories, like it was something foul and rotten. At least, that’s what she tried to tell herself, as she tore through the rest of the house, repeating it in her mind like a mantra — he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t —  her breath coming in faster and her eyes burning as she came up empty at every turn. 

It was like the house had eaten it, swallowed it whole. Hungry in its desire to consume anything that didn’t belong. That didn’t fit in. 

After fifteen minutes of searching, her eyes wild and her throat thick, she stood in the middle of the living room. A pressure formed in her chest, slow but familiar as with every shallow breath she took, along came a dull burn that spread across her chest. Dani pressed a hand hard to her breastbone, willing away the pain as her heart pounded against her palm. Dani hadn’t had an asthma attack in years. She couldn't remember the last time she even had one, always so diligent and careful. And of course, it had to be over this of all things. 

The front door clicked open. Dread pooled in her stomach at the sound of Eddie shuffling in. “Hey, I’m home!” he called. 

Dani couldn’t find the words to respond, her breath coming in too fast, too sharp. Every struggling breath pained. 

“Danielle?” Eddie called again when she didn’t respond, and then, “Danielle!” Heavy hands fell on her shoulders, and then her cheeks. “Hey, are you okay? What’s going on? Open your eyes."

Dani hadn’t realized she closed them. She flickered them open to meet Eddie’s concerned face. “Inhaler,” she finally managed to gasp, wheezing. 

He nodded, spinning around to locate her bag, digging through it and pulling out the small blue device before returning to her. He watched silently with a deep frown and thinned mouth as she inhaled her two doses, letting her breathe it in for a moment. 

“Are you okay now?” he asked softly.

She was still breathing heavily, her hands trembling around the blue device, but the low embers in her chest slowly ebbed away. The pressure that had formed a tight knot began to loosen. It was slow going, but the rescue inhaler did its job. Dani pressed a hand back to her chest and nodded, not meeting Eddie’s eyes. His shoulders visibly dropped, sighing and pulling her in towards his chest in a hug. 

“Jesus,” he muttered, “You scared me.” Dani pressed her eyes closed, unable to compel herself to wrap her arms around him. “That hasn’t happened in a long time. What happened?”

Her chest ached. Slowly, she pulled away from him, her trembling hands against his chest. “My things, Eddie,” she murmured, swallowing hard against the tremor in her voice, and finally looked up to meet his frown, “Where are my things?”

His frown deepened. “What things?”

“My box.”

Eddie’s eyes flickered between hers, bewildered. “I’m...what box?” Exhaling sharply, Dani took another step back and rubbed hard at her eyes. “I really don’t know what box you're talking about.”

“In the dining room, Eddie. It - it was a plain box.”

He stared blankly at her, blinking. “There were a lot of boxes in there,” he said slowly, as though patiently explaining to his nephew why dinosaurs didn’t exist anymore. 

Her breath started coming in fast again. “It was a wooden box with a bronze latch,” she said, desperately willing him to remember. He nudged up his glasses, his frown deepening in puzzlement and concern, visibly thinking hard. “Eddie…” she breathed, fighting back the burn in her eyes. 

A light bulb seemed to switch on in his head, his eyes going wide. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers, his mouth pulling into a smile. “Okay, yeah, hold on — just stay there.”

He abruptly disappeared deeper into the house, leaving Dani alone. She breathed slowly, rubbing at her eyes again to vanish any unfallen tears before wrapping her arms around her stomach, listening to Eddie’s footsteps vibrating through the house, down and then back up some stairs. He returned with a triumphant grin, and the sigh of relief that escaped Dani at the sight of her box in Eddie’s hands seemed to make her lungs rattle. She took the box in her grasp and pressed it close to her chest, as if she could tuck it under her ribs. Dani sniffed as she looked down at it, and slowly exhaled. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, like she hadn’t just spent the last half hour spiraling. 

Eddie’s grin slowly fell, chagrin replacing his triumph. “I’m sorry,” he said, burying his hands in his grey pantsuit, “I didn’t know what to do with it, or where to put it. So I put it in the basement.”

Dani nodded absently. The basement. Right. Nine feet below the earth, like a coffin. 

“I really am sorry,” he repeated, softer this time, a hand falling to her waist. 

“I know,” she said, and finally met his eyes, giving him a weak smile. “It’s okay.”

He grinned, warm, and said, “I do have good news, though, to make up for it.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nodded, gestured behind him, and said, “I got us some dinner too.” Dani glanced over his shoulder where on the side table next to her bag sat a box of pizza and a bottle of wine. Eddie’s hand moved from her waist to her upper arm, gently rubbing it. “Why don’t you put that away, and I’ll tell you all about it over dinner.”

At Dani’s silent nod, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and bounded towards the kitchen with the pizza and wine in hand, but not without another grin. She barely managed to send one back, her mouth twitching at the attempt. She returned her eyes back to the box in her arms, the weight of it suddenly heavier as the exhaustion from her episode finally hit her. Dani didn’t know what to do with it now. There was no other place in the entire house she trusted. Not even her old childhood bedroom; the risk of it falling into her mother’s hands was out of the question. The glove compartment of her car wasn’t totally ideal, but she didn’t like the idea of leaving it on the backseat floor or shoving it away deep in the trunk. It would have to do for now. 

Dani returned to the kitchen where Eddie had shed his suit jacket and tie, his sleeves rolled up as he set the kitchen table with plates and wine glasses. He grinned at her. “Here we go," he said, opening the pizza box with a flourish to reveal a Hawaiian pizza. 

She hesitated for a moment. At the risk of disappointing him with the reminder that a simple veggie pizza was her favorite and that the very notion of pineapple on pizza was an affront to the senses, she offered him a weak grin. "Thanks." She cocked her head at the table, and asked, “What’s the occasion?” 

Eddie’s grin widened. “I may have gotten a little raise.”

“What?” Dani's face relaxed into a smile. “But didn’t you just recently start?”

“Yeah, I know! But they’ve apparently been really liking what I’ve been doing, and —” he paused, seemingly for dramatic effect as his eyes glinted “ — I got an in with Councilman Alan Fields.”

Dani’s eyes widened. “Eddie, that’s amazing,” she said, grasping his arm. 

“I know it’s not much for now and I still have a long way to go yet, but — “

“It’s a start,” Dani finished for him, cupping his chin. “I’m proud of you. I think this does call for some wine.”

He grinned bashfully as she dropped her hand and started towards the counter, pulling at a stubborn drawer to retrieve a corkscrew as Eddie began piling their plates with pizza. “It is a start, isn’t it. Felt like a long time coming too,” he said from behind her, as Dani huffed at the drawer, jiggling it by the handle, “And step one is dinner with Fields and his wife.”

The handle popped off at a strong tug. She blinked down at it, and then, as if now absorbing what Eddie said, she looked back at him, bewildered. “Dinner?”

“Yep, seven o’clock on Friday.”

Dani blinked at him, her stomach turning sour. “The both of us?”

“Yes,” he said, chuckling, his grin indulgent. “We have to start impressing Fields somehow. He has influence all over town, and if I get him on my side then — “ his grin turned smug “ — You may be looking at a future city councilman.”

Dani chuckled breathlessly, her cheeks aching. “That’s great,” she managed to say. 

She didn’t want to ruin this moment, not when it seemed like all of Eddie’s dreams were coming true, handed to him on a silver platter. Dani could see it happening now; she knew that on Friday, she would push down all her exhaustion from a week of teaching, and herding around twelve year olds, and the pulse of anxiety under her skin. She would put on her best dress and style her hair flawlessly, but just enough to seem modest, and play the part of the perfect golden girl turned perfect fiancée. Dani would smile too much and not enough, and Eddie would hold her hand for all the world to see the ring on her finger as if to say, “Here, world. Here we are, the golden couple.” She felt a chill settle over her skin just thinking about it, and wished desperately to feel anything else, wished that Eddie had just asked her instead of — 

“What happened there?” Eddie’s eyes darted towards her hand, his brow furrowing, gesturing towards the drawer handle she held in a tight fist. 

“Oh, um,” she chuckled again, helplessly holding up the handle for him to see, “It broke.”

He snorted. “Make that one more thing for the repair list," he said, and let out a long sigh. A hand at the base of her spine and he gently guided Dani to the table to sit as he took care of it. 

That should’ve been the end of it, the end of the conversation as wine was finally poured and the kitchen radio switched on low as they sat down to eat. She hoped for it — to be given the space to breathe in between sips of wine and let her shoulders sink against the back of her chair, letting her frustrations and the exhaustion from her day to just sink away. Just for a little bit, just long enough for her to let her mask slip until she had to once again pull on the ropes to part the stage curtains open. But Eddie insisted on clinking their glasses together, a curious glint in his eyes as he sipped from his wine. 

“I was thinking,” he started, setting his glass down. A ball of lead sank in Dani’s stomach.

“Yeah?” She took another heady sip. 

“With just a little more money coming in, we could finally afford to start fixing up the place. Like, actually fixing it,” he said, leaning forward on the table, “And just with everything seeming to come together, you could take the lead on it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted more time for some hobbies? This is a great opportunity to start. Add a splash of color to the place.”

Dani blinked at him. There wasn’t something right, with the way he was looking at her so expectantly, so pleased with himself. “I don’t have the time for that, Eddie,” she reiterated. 

“Well, obviously,” he said, grinning boyishly, “Not until after you stop working at least.”

Dani stared, her breath shallow, her nails digging into her palms in her lap. Remnants of the indignant fire from earlier, the rush of panic, swelled within her. “I’m not quitting my job, Eddie,” she said, her back ramrod straight. 

He frowned. “Wasn’t that part of the plan?”

“No.”

Eddie leaned back, his expression puzzled, and said, “Oh, I thought we agreed — “

“We didn’t,” she said with more bite than she expected. More than Eddie expected. His eyes went slightly wide, and he at least had the decency to look abashed, pushing his glasses up his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I just thought — the other day you were saying you weren’t looking forward to the parent-teacher conference. I thought it could be good for you, good for us. Especially when — ”

“Dealing with parents is one thing. Kids are another,” she said, the fire quickly leaving her. She sighed. “I love my job. I love my kids. I love how I’m able to help shape their minds and their futures. I don’t want to give that up.”

Not for anything, she didn't say out loud, Not even you.

Leaning his elbows back on the table, Eddie smiled slowly at her, and nodded. “Okay,” he said. A look crossed his face, something between hopeful and knowing. It did nothing to help the whirlpool of dread twisting Dani’s stomach, making her feel sick. “Maybe in the future. Just think about it?”

Dani could do nothing but stare at him. It was like what she said went into one ear and out the other, like it was already written in stone. The next step in fulfilling his dreams, and Dani was just along for the ride, molded and shaped to his expectations. Dani often wondered how strange it was to care for someone so much who loved merely a shadow of her. 

Dani took another sip of her wine, her gaze fixed on her mostly untouched pizza, appetite gone. She should stand her ground, dig her heels in. Set the record straight. Instead, she reset her mask, pulled the rope to part the stage curtains, and tied the other end around her neck. She nodded. 

His face brightened into a smile. Seemingly pleased with the outcome of his wishes coming true, he returned to his pizza. Dani followed suit, forcing down the food, feeling like she could choke on it. 

“In other good news,” Eddie said around bites, his expression vaguely curious, “Did you hear who moved back into town recently?”

“I did,” she said, nodding, not meeting his eyes. “Your mom mention it?”

“Yeah. You must be happy about that.”

Dani didn’t know how to respond to that. Not with the way her skin felt jittery at even the thought of being in the same room as Jamie, and certainly not with the tension just barely underlying Eddie’s voice. Her eyes darted up, catching him staring at her with an expression that to anyone else would seem as passing curiosity, but to Dani, was careful scrutiny. A part of her couldn’t truly fault him for it, after all he had borne witness to the aftermath of it all. But the other part of Dani, the part that never knew how to stop missing Jamie, tensed her shoulders and clenched her teeth, nodding as her eyes darted away and she sipped her wine. 

“I am,” she said, the words surprisingly feeling almost true. “I saw her earlier today, actually. At the school.”

He frowned. “At school?”

“Mikey’s one of my students,” she said. Eddie blinked at her, his expression mystified. “Jamie’s little brother?”

“Oh,” he said, and chuckled. “Wow. Time flies, huh? Still remember him when he was just a baby. Is he anything like how Jamie was? Causing any trouble?”

Dani tensed. “Jamie was a good kid.”

Eddie gave her a look. “Really?”

She fought back a frown, exhaustion settling deeper into her bones. “Anyway, Mikey’s a good kid,” she continued, “Really smart. Quiet. Shy.”

“Is that even possible? A shy Taylor?”

Dani shot him a glare. He backed down with a chuckle and his hands raised. “All right, I’ll take your word for it.”

It was a little easier, after that. Less like the walls of the kitchen were closing in on her, and more like she could finally breathe as Eddie moved on from conversation topics that left her feeling like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. They talked about their work day instead; how Eddie came to meet Alan Fields, one of the more prominent councilmen in town, and Dani offered anecdotes of her own, the funny things kids said, and how good they’d been. She didn’t mention the car. Not yet. She briefly entertained the idea that she could somehow sneak the car over to the mechanic without Eddie knowing, but realized she wouldn’t know how to explain away the hundreds of dollars missing from the bank, spent on repairing it.  

Dinner flew by fast. Dani washed down the rest of her pizza with another glass of wine. She even managed to laugh with Eddie when she hiccuped after the last sip. He grinned fondly at her, as she gathered their dishes and brought them to the sink to clean them. With her hands sudsy, the two glasses of wine had loosened her shoulders just enough to relax and sway to the radio, set to some oldies station. It took her a moment, as she rinsed a plate while listening to a smooth voice croon, to remember her plight from earlier. The sheer fear and desperation, looking for her box of Jamie’s things. The reason why she went searching in the first place. Just as Dani felt her face fall, hands wrapped around her waist. 

“Leave that,” Eddie said, pressing his temple against her own, his body enveloping her from behind. 

She swallowed hard, managing to refrain from tensing in his arms. “They’re not going to clean themselves,” she said, proud at how steady she kept her voice. 

Eddie began to sway them both along to the music, and said, “They can be done in the morning.” He pressed a telling kiss just below her ear. 

Dani shivered, but for all the wrong reasons. She felt Eddie grin against her skin, chuckling. Distantly, Dani wondered if he could also hear her heart pounding, the blood rushing through her ears. The way her body wanted to curl away from him and up into herself. If she were to glance down at the silver tap, she’d see their distorted forms, pulled in all the wrong directions as they gently swayed. 

“Eddie…” she stumbled out. 

“Come on, leave it,” he insisted, pressing another kiss to her shoulder, “I know I upset you today. I want to make it up to you.”

She could say no, like she’d done before. Citing exhaustion, sleepiness, a headache. She could say she felt like she was slowly being digested within these walls, until inevitably, all that would remain would be the shadow Eddie so loved. 

Would he still love her then? When all that would be left of her to hold would be a shell, a ghost of a person? Would he care? Would Jamie?

The thought was so abrupt and cutting, Dani pressed her eyes shut and bit hard at her lip, her hands stilling under the running water as a dull ache spread across her chest. 

Clenching her teeth painfully, and feeling the skin of her cheeks flush in a fit of indignation, Dani swept the thought away. His arms were warm around her, safe and strong as they’d always been. He still smelt of the same sharp cologne she had gifted him last year. She could want this, she thought faintly. This could be her, if she just tucked away everything else. The perfect loving wife. The girl next door turned childhood best friend turned childhood sweetheart. She wanted this, didn’t she? All those years ago, heartbroken and hollowed out, when she finally said yes, and then never stopped.

Somehow, it didn’t burst out of her. Not when Eddie pressed another soft kiss to the crook of her neck. Not when she turned off the tap and spun in his arms to rake her wet hands through his hair, smiling weakly into a kiss. 

Dani could want this. She could be this. 

 --

The arm slung across her waist felt like an anvil. Holding her down into the too soft sheets and bedding until it felt like she was sinking right into it. There was a heaviness to Dani’s body that she couldn’t shake. She hadn’t moved in over an hour. An hour and thirty seven minutes to be exact. She knew. She counted, her eyes unmoving from her bedside alarm clock as she lay on her back, slowly coming back to her body, still as stone, watching the red numbers flicker minute by minute until it read 12:03am. 

The arm moved, shifting. Dani held her breath as she felt the bed gently shake from the twisting movements next to her. And then it pulled away, the arm lifting from her waist to disappear into the darkness next to her like a phantom. She exhaled slowly, and swallowed hard past the thickness in her throat. 

Dani blinked. 12:04am. 

Slowly, she finally turned away from the alarm clock, her neck screaming at her from holding the position for so long. She winced and slowly sat up, holding the sheets up to her chest. The air was cold against the skin of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. Dani welcomed it, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her forehead on them, her body feeling overheated as if a fever was expelling some sickness from her. 

The bed shifted again along with the sound of a soft sigh. Dani raised her head at the motion and finally turned her gaze to the sleeping form on her left where Eddie lay flat on his stomach, his head twisted away from her, his torso rising and falling so slowly she’d almost think he wasn’t breathing at all. Dani knew, if there was any more light in the room beyond the fair trails of moonlight, she would find a star map of beauty marks across his skin. Any other person, any other woman who deeply loved their fiancé would slide closer, pressing the length of their worn and satisfied body next to Eddie’s and would trace those star maps with the tip of their finger. Instead, Dani stared at him, drained and heavy. 

He always slept so deeply after, like all the weight of his love and desire condensed into a single point, taking and taking from her, until he was full and sated, collapsing half on top of her. He’d lay there as his breaths would eventually even out and deepen, slowly pulling away, so sure, so confident that Dani felt the same. There were some occasions Dani could force herself to, taking it for herself in a way that always left him surprised, wanting so much to morph herself into this mask that she’d almost convince herself at the height of it. But, it was an occurrence that was rarer than being struck by lightning, and she’d always feel so empty afterwards. And then there were nights like this — grateful to the dark shadows to conceal her. Grateful that he never looked her in the eye and asked. 

Dani finally pulled away from the bed, silently leaving the too warm sheets, shivering in the dark. She quickly pulled on nearby clothes — a nightgown and a thin robe — and quietly made her way out of the room, stepping over loose floorboards. She made her way downstairs, her fingers skimming the walls to guide her way in the dark, listening to the house creak and groan, settling like a weary creature. She padded her way through to the kitchen, the floor cool beneath her feet, making a beeline to where they left the bottle of wine on the counter. 

Grabbing the bottle in a white-knuckled fist, pulling out the cork and taking a long swig. The house maneuvered her through the shadows, stumbling lightly in the dark, and all Dani could do was watch her own actions, divorced from her own perspective. Watch as she retrieved her keys from the side table and made her way to the garage, generously sipping at wine. When there was nothing left in the bottle, she left it on the floor near the garage entrance to open the passenger door of her car and fall heavily inside, closing it shut just a little too hard in the overbearing silence of the night. 

It was cold, but comforting inside. The air felt different in the cabin. Thinner, dustier, lived in and familiar. For a moment, she rested her head against the headrest and let her eyes slip shut, enjoying the cold and the quiet. She opened her eyes and with a sigh, she reached over to open the glove compartment, carefully pulling out the wooden box to rest on the passenger seat.

Slowly lifting it open, she stared at the contents inside, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. The fear she had felt earlier today had left its residue on her, like chalk dust. It pressed hard against her chest and behind her eyes until they burned as she skimmed her hands over the faded t-shirt. Expelling a trembling exhale, Dani carefully dug through the contents until she unearthed the cassette tape and turned it over in her lap. It appeared physically undamaged, though nothing could be said to what dust and age had done to it over time. Dani didn’t even remember what songs Jamie had cultivated for her, just the distant memory of side A being songs she chose to Dani’s tastes, and side B being more to her own. 

There was only one way to listen to it now. Even with Dani’s confidence of Eddie’s deep slumber and the thickness of the walls of the house, there was still a part of her anxious of the thought of Eddie waking up to find her delving through childhood memories as if shamefully flipping through a dirty magazine. Or worse, thinking she was running away in the dead of night. 

The thought made her pause. It’d be so simple. To just pack a bag, and take off, speeding her way out of town and leaving everything behind to see the world like any small town youth dreamed of doing. It sounded so easy, and so astronomically unthinkable. 

Shaking it off, Dani tensed her shoulders and twisted the engine on, revving it to life. It shuddered and groaned, but remained on with no tell-tale sign of smoke or questionable smells. Dani exhaled slowly, and fiddled with the tape again before finally pushing it in the player and pressed rewind for good measure. She listened to it wind up and finally click to a stop, the sound unusually loud in the silent cabin, ominous and thrilling. 

She swallowed hard and licked her lips, pressing play. 

The sound of layered voices in harmony with sparse melodious instruments filled the cabin, tinny and crackling through the old stereo and the age of the tape. Her mouth dropped open, her breath trapped in her chest. Gradually, Dani sank back into the seat as a voice joined in, a shiver creeping down her spine. Dani couldn’t count the years she hadn’t heard this song, it almost felt like hearing it all over again for the first time, the memory of it crashing into her like a wave. 

Dani curled up on herself, twisting just enough in the seat to pull her knees to her chest and wrap her arms around her legs, a thickness growing in her throat, the pressure building behind her eyes. She bit her lip hard to fight it off, desperately willing it away — the pain borne of being stripped away down to that old exposed nerve. Prodded at and scarred. A wound opened and healed over so many times, it was a wonder Dani remained so recognizable. 

But even as the first song ended and a familiar sparse guitar filled the car, the pain of her teeth pressed against her lip and her nails digging into her palm couldn’t stop the tears spilling down her cheeks. Dani trembled as she exhaled deeply, her breath wobbling, curling further into the seat and resting her head against the crackling leather. 

Five more minutes, she told herself. Five more minutes, and then she’d seal it all away again. She had managed to live with everything else now for years, she could manage another couple more. Dani had grown used to it. Tucking away the memories and the tears, the lost pieces — all for something that didn’t exist anymore.

 --

Parent teacher conferences certainly weren't the highlight of Dani's school year. She was good with kids. Not parents. Especially not parents who she grew up with, and who she remembered from when they attended this very same school together. Some of them had grown up a bit since then, but only some. Most still interacted with her as if talking to a cardboard cut out person, all plastic smiles and tacit social acceptance that they would never speak of times past.

It was rare that anyone new came to live in town at all. Not unless they used North Liberty as a sleeper suburb for the factory plant a good hour drive southeast. Most people who lived here did so all their lives. Just like their parents had. And their parents before them. And even those who tried to venture away somehow found themselves wending back. Like a labyrinth with no exits. Like a glue trap that held one fast by the ankles.

Dani was using the edge of a pen to scrape away some glue that one of her students had gotten onto their desk during the day. The dried glue came away in gouges. She could have left it for the janitor, but he had enough on his plate and she had time before the next set of parents walked into her classroom.

Honestly, this was the last time she allowed glue in class. It would join glitter on the 'banned for life' list.

There was a polite rap of knuckles on the open door behind her.

Without looking up, Dani said, "Come in!" and gave the glob of glue a few last scrapes with the pen before giving up and turning around with a sigh. "Sorry about that, I was just -"

She froze. Jamie was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching silently. She still wore her work clothes, but she had left her jacket behind, and the sleeves of her jumpsuit were rolled up so that the definition of her bare arms was stark against the canvas material.

"I - uh -" Dani used the pen to gesture weakly towards the student's desk. "There was a glue disaster."

Jamie tilted her head and said, "Acetone."

Dani blinked. "What?"

"You should use acetone," said Jamie. "Take it right off. No elbow grease required."

"Oh. Right. And I'd - I'd get that where?"

In answer, Jamie pushed herself away from the door frame and made her way through the maze of desks until she stood before her. Dani watched her approach with some alarm, not knowing what was coming. And to think she used to know Jamie so well she could tell what she was thinking just from the barest crease of her eyes.

Jamie stopped and made a small gesture with her hand. "Let me see your fingers."

Completely befuddled, Dani set down the pen and lifted both hands for inspection. Jamie cocked her head and nodded as though that confirmed everything.

"Looks like you've got the solution at home already," Jamie said, meeting her gaze with a soft smile. "Nail polish remover. I'm talking about nail polish remover."

Dani glanced down at her hands. She normally didn't bother painting her nails; it was only a matter of time until she chewed them to bits again. Yesterday evening however she had idly applied a few coats of polish to her nails while sitting with Eddie on the couch, the television screen flickering and sending shadows dancing along the walls.

Curling her fingers against her palms, Dani made a stiff gesture towards her own desk at the head of the classroom. "Of course. Thanks. Shall we -?"

Jamie went without further comment. She had slouched in the chair opposite Dani's desk while Dani lowered herself carefully into her own seat.

"Right. So," said Jamie, her leg bouncing restlessly. "Never done one of these before. What're we talking about exactly?"

Dani pulled a file towards her from across the desk. "We're here to talk about Mikey. His progress. How he's doing. Et cetera."

Jamie nodded. Her gaze roved across the classroom, wandering here and there. She lingered upon the various fixtures of the room in bored contemplation. "You reckon he's settling in all right?"

Dani shrugged. "Better than you did."

A rueful grin was Jamie's reply. "Well, that's not very hard, is it?"

Dani smiled back at her. "No." She opened the folder and quickly flipped through a few pages. "There haven't been any incidents that stand out to me so far. Regarding him fitting in, I mean. Nobody's picked on him or anything, is what I'm saying."

Jamie nodded. "Glad to hear it."

"He's a good kid," Dani said.

"Smarter than I'll ever be."

"Now, I didn't say that."

"True though," Jamie said with self-deprecating flair. “What about his grades?"

Dani plucked at the corner of a page, lifting it up so she could see the paper beneath. "Exemplary, to be honest. His class participation is a bit lacking, but otherwise he's gotten nothing but top marks so far."

"Need me to talk to him about speaking up more in class?"

Dani shook her head and let the page fall back down. "No. Not really. I think that will come in time as he grows more comfortable."

"Right." Jamie was looking directly at her now, and Dani almost wished she would go back to studying the room's contents instead. "Anything else?"

It was difficult not to fidget beneath the weight of Jamie's gaze. Dani found herself shuffling a few of the papers nervously, and forced her hands to go still. "There is one thing, actually," Dani said.

Jamie arched an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said warily.

"It's not - It's not like that," said Dani and she leaned forward in her seat, resting her weight upon her forearms. "I was actually wanting to talk to you about the possibility of Mikey attending some special math courses."

Jamie's brow furrowed. "Why? I thought you just said his grades were fine? Top marks, even."

"No, I'm -" Dani cleared her throat to collect herself somewhat before continuing. "I'm talking about advanced courses. He seems to like math. A lot, actually. And I'd like to encourage that, rather than risk him becoming bored with things he's already mastered."

If anything, Jamie seemed taken aback by this news, sitting upright. "Will that be a lot more work for him?" she asked slowly.

Dani shook her head. "The class is after school. Held in the library for an extra hour. But I won't be giving him homework for regular math, so it should all come out in the wash."

"Huh." Jamie blinked and sat back further in her seat. "All right, then. I'll have a chat with him tonight. See what he thinks."

"Great," Dani said, and her own smile felt plasticky this time.

"If he doesn't want to do it, I won't force him," said Jamie.

"That's okay. He doesn't have to, if he doesn't want to."

"All right."

Silence settled over them. Dani was staring, fingers tracing the sharp edge of the folder, while Jamie waited.

"That it?" Jamie asked after the seconds had ticked by with neither of them speaking.

Startled by the abruptness of her voice, Dani closed the folder. "Yeah. Yeah, that's - that's it!"

Jamie gave her an odd look, clearly waiting for her to say something, but Dani's mouth was dry, and she had another set of parents coming in fifteen minutes, and she hadn't expected this to go so fast, and -

"Guess I'll be off, then." Jamie stood and jammed her hands into the pockets of her jumpsuit, while Dani pushed back her own chair to rise to her feet as well.

"Of course. Have a -" Dani gestured awkwardly towards the exit. "Have a good rest of your day."

“See you around.” 

Jamie was at the door before Dani finally worked up the courage to blurt out, “Do you -? Do you want to grab a coffee sometime? With me?”

Jamie paused and turned in the doorway. "You Yanks and your coffee." Jamie shook her head but she was smiling. "Sure, but I work everyday except Sunday."

"That's fine,” Dani said, hand on the desk as if to ground herself. “We can meet Sunday morning?"

"Don't you have church?"

"They'll be fine without me for one service. Besides, I -” Dani said, “- I want to catch up.” 

Jamie’s smile flickered briefly, and when it returned she appeared reserved, as though she had taken a step further away. In the end all she said was, “Sounds like a plan. Ten?”

Dani nodded. “Ten’s great.”

With one final backward glance, Jamie left. It was as though all the air rushed back into the room in her absence. As though Dani could finally breathe properly again. She dropped back down into her seat, which creaked beneath her weight, feeling dazed, a faint buzzing beneath her skin. 

Footsteps down the hall, and Dani’s head jerked. “Oh! You’re early!” she said, rising to her feet and extending her hand to the latest set of parents. All plastic smiles again and false pleasantries. “Horace. Clara. How nice to see you. Please, sit.” 

 --

Dani arrived at the cafe late. She had parked her car further along down a side lane in town while running a quick errand at the local pharmacy. The car had been acting up on the drive in and she didn't want to risk it breaking down again along the way. So, she turned over her wrist to check her watch, and walked as briskly as she could without outright jogging. By the time she arrived at the cafe, she was slightly out of breath and raking her fingers through her hair to fix how windswept she felt.

She paused at the entrance to drop a hand into her bag just to check that she still had her emergency inhaler. When she had assured herself that it was there, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The cafe was cooler than the air outside. As the door slowly creaked shut behind her, Dani turned her head, perusing the empty tables. Most people at this time of day would be at their local church, and it had felt odd even running chores with so few others on the street. Yet sure enough, Jamie was seated in the far corner at a table with a little handwritten reserved placard atop it. Shrugging at the strap of her handbag, Dani steadied her breathing and walked over.

"Sorry," said Dani. "Car troubles. Again."

Jamie remained in her seat as Dani sat across from her. "No problem," she said. "Did you get the seal fixed?"

Dani nodded and dropped her bag onto one of the spare seats. "Yeah. I did. It's something new now."

"Hmm," said Jamie, looking thoughtful. Then, she shrugged and handed over one of the menus on the table. 

"Recommend anything here, to be honest. Can't go wrong with Owen's food. Trust me."

Dani took the menu, hesitating when she heard a voice call out from the kitchens in a pleasant but surprising English accent, "I heard that!"

Jamie lifted her voice, but kept her gaze fixed on her own menu. "No, you didn't! And stop eavesdropping!"

A man stuck his head through a window cut in the wall between the kitchen and the main room. His moustache twitched in a tell-tale smile, and his dark eyes gleamed with a mischievous light behind thick spectacles. "You know I never pass up the opportunity to bask in praise."

"I'm fresh out of praises today," said Jamie, aiming a pointed glower at him over the top of her menu.

"Oh, forgive me," he said, not sounding the least bit sorry. "Interrupting your date, am I?"

"Hardly," Jamie replied dryly.

Dani's shoulders stiffened. She jerked the menu up slightly higher, hoping to hide the widening of her eyes.

Jamie noticed. Of course, Jamie noticed. “He’s joking,” Jamie said, then lifted her voice so he could hear. “And being a pillock about it, too!”

Behind her, Dani could hear a chuckle, and then the sound of fading footsteps as he — Owen, presumably — went back to puttering around in the kitchen.

Dani cleared her throat. "I know that." When Jamie gave her a questioning glance, Dani continued, "That he was joking. I know."

It was a godsend that there were no other patrons, otherwise Dani might have panicked at the mere insinuation that she was — but, there was no one to listen in. Just a joke. Nothing she needed to worry about.

Those footsteps had returned, and Owen stood beside their table, tucking a pen behind his ear. His striped apron was immaculate, and his sleeves rolled up just below the elbow, but there was a streak of flour at his jawline from where his white-smudged fingertips had brushed. "Tell me," he said, "What can I get you ladies this fine morning?"

Jamie handed over the menu to him. "A pot of English breakfast and poached eggs on toast for me, thanks."

“A classic,” he murmured with an appreciative nod, then turned his attention to Dani, his expression expectant. 

"The omelette and a coffee, please," Dani said.

Owen took her menu as well. "What kind of coffee?"

"Uh -" Dani said eloquently. "The kind with beans in it?"

"Drip coffee?"

"Yes?" she said with a wince at her own ignorance.

"Thank god," Owen sounded relieved. "My barista is at church and I have no idea how to operate that thing." He gestured with the menus towards a gleaming brushed chrome coffee machine that came with its own conical grinder filled with fresh beans. Then he lifted the menus to the side of his mouth and whispered as though the machine might be listening to them, "I think it's sentient. And I know it hates me."

Dani bit at her lower lip to keep a snort of laughter at bay. Owen gave her a parting wink, then strode off towards the kitchens to put together their order. When she turned in her seat, it was to find Jamie watching her with a fond smile that made Dani’s breath catch in her throat. Owen returning with their drinks gave Dani the opportunity to regroup. She straightened in her seat and thanked him with a smile.

"So." Dani reached for the milk and sugar that came with both their drinks. "What brought you back?"

"Right. Straight to it, then."

"I'm - I didn't -"

"No, no," Jamie shook her head. She poured a bit of tea into her cup, only to set the pot back down when the colour wasn't dark enough for her liking. "You know me. Direct is how I prefer it."

Dani held the mug of coffee between her hands despite the burn through a layer of porcelain. "It's just - ten years is a long time to suddenly make a reappearance."

"Maybe I like the attention," Jamie drawled.

Dani gave her a look.

Making a face, Jamie poured herself a cup of tea. "Or maybe not."

She let the silence stretch between them as Jamie poured a splash of milk into her cup. Jamie sipped at her tea and for a long moment said nothing. Then she shrugged, "Dunno. Seemed like a good idea. A fresh start." She gave a rueful huff of laughter. "Must've been what Nan felt like when she first brought me here. A nothing place in the middle of nowhere. Clean slate. All that bullshit."

Dani's thumb traced the handle of the cup. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, building up the courage to admit, "It's good to see you again."

"Could've fooled me," said Jamie, but she was smirking. 

Dani winced. "Sorry." 

"S'alright. I don't blame you." Jamie set down her cup to let the tea cool. "It's good to see you, too."

Something in Dani's chest unspooled upon hearing that. Like finally breathing in a lungful of air after years of a hand around her throat. She could feel her shoulders relax, the tension running out like a thread pulled from the ragged edge of a sweater.

"And how're you?" Jamie asked. "Got that teaching job, like you always wanted. Well done."

Dani's face softened into a smile. "Thanks."

"How long have you been teaching at the school?"

"About three years now."

"Don't know how you have the patience." Jamie leaned her elbows on the table. "Some days I feel mad just having to deal with one. Meanwhile, you've got a whole classroom of the little buggers."

Dani laughed. "You grow to love them. Even the worst ones."

Jamie scoffed. "Pull the other one."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah?" said Jamie, her eyes glinting as she grinned. "Which was the worst you've ever had?"

"Oh, my god," Dani lowered her voice and began the tale of the Willoughby boy in her second year of teaching. By the time she was done, Jamie's expression was a mixture of horrified and amused.

"I would've killed him," Jamie said. "And the world would’ve better off without a possessed devil child."

"And risk the wrath of old lady Willoughby? No, thank you." Dani lifted her mug of coffee for a sip. "But he honestly wasn't that bad all the time. Just...most of the time."

"Have you ever seen the kid step inside a church?" Jamie asked.

Dani shook her head. "Nope."

Jamie made a gesture with her hand as though that proved her point.

“Oh, like you were the best behaved child on the planet.”

“Fuck no. Nan was a saint in retrospect.” Then Jamie added, “An absolute bitch, too. But still.”

Owen reappeared before Dani could reply, and he placed two dishes down on the table in front of them. Dani thanked him, while Jamie murmured a belated "Cheers, mate," before picking up her cutlery.

"If you need anything else," he said, "I'll be the one in the back, singing along to the radio before the rest of my staff can return and tell me how off-key I sound. Bon appetit."

Shortly after he left, Dani could indeed hear a radio being turned up in the other room. Jamie shook her head but did nothing to hide her smile.

"I can see why this place is so popular," Dani said, utensils in hand so she could dig into her own meal. "New faces don't tend to do that well here."

"Food's not shite either," Jamie said.

Mouth full, Dani made an affirmative noise and nodded her agreement.

"So, did you ever make it out of state like you always wanted?" Jamie asked, gesturing with her knife while she spoke. "See the world? Backpack across Europe?"

Dani's chewing slowed. After swallowing, she shook her head. "Not really, no. I ended up attending the University of Iowa, and — well, I guess things just went from there. Came back home. Got a job."

"All the way to Iowa City? The bustling metropolis itself."

"I'd still like to," said Dani. "Travel, I mean. I'm not sure about the backpacking part anymore. Maybe a rental car instead."

"Fancy," Jamie said. "Not missing out on much, really. At least, not the part of Europe that's the UK."

"I thought you never made it to the continent?"

"Yeah, that's right." Jamie paused to drink some more tea. "Still know it's better than England, though."

"Your patriotism is as strong as ever, I see," Dani said with a grin.

"Must be all the time I've spent here." Jamie winked at her and Dani laughed softly. "Went back for a few years when I turned eighteen," Jamie continued. "Saw my older brother and my dad."

Hearing that, Dani's knife and fork went still against the plate. Her eyes darted up, but Jamie was focused on cutting up her own food. "And how'd that go?" Dani asked carefully.

"Badly," said Jamie, and there wasn't the hint of a smile now. "Dad was disinterested. Denny and I almost killed each other. I ran off to live in East London. Had a bit of a brush up with Her Majesty's finest swineherd. Got my act together. Got Mikey back. Came here."

Jamie's hands were tight around her cutlery, and her voice was clipped. Dani watched her, knowing there was more to that story than Jamie would tell. Not today, at least.

"Sounds like fun," said Dani, spearing a bit of omelette on her fork and lifting it to her mouth for a bite.

"About as fun as your story, I reckon," Jamie said. "Did Ed go to the same university, too?"

It felt like some sort of trap. A trick question. As though Jamie already knew the answer and was asking only to make a point. Dani nodded. “Yeah. He did.”

"How many times did he ask you to marry him before you finally caved?"

Dani shot her an exasperated look. "It's not like that."

"Isn't it?"

Dani took a sip of coffee to avoid answering for as long as possible. After a lengthy pause she muttered around the lip of the cup, "Five times."

"That all? Huh."

“Most of them don’t count,” Dani insisted. “We were kids.”

“Oh, I remember,” said Jamie, and her tone gentled. “And things are good?”

“Yeah. Great,” said Dani, setting down her coffee so she could pick at her food rather than meet Jamie’s piercing gaze. “Perfect. Things are perfect.”

Jamie’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing. Jamie, who hated being lied to. Jamie, who was as keen-nosed for the truth as a sleuthhound with the scent of blood. Dani felt a thrill of anticipation race up her spine, and she readied herself for whatever pointed question Jamie would lob in her direction with surgical precision.

In the end all Jamie said was, “Judy must’ve been over the moon. She finally gets that daughter she always wanted.” 

Dani didn't know what to say to that. She picked at her food, then hummed and said, "Yeah. Though we basically were that for years, until -"

Across the table, Jamie went stock still. When Dani glanced up at her, Jamie's expression was wary, as if waiting for an incoming blow.

Dani set down her cutlery against the edge of her plate with a clink of metal against earthenware. "Do you know how I found out that you'd gone?" she asked quietly, and didn't wait for an answer. "I came over to your house, and your neighbor told me."

She didn't tell Jamie about how she had knocked at the door, about how she had sat around for nearly an hour, thinking that Jamie would be back any moment, about how the neighbor had found her there. ‘Didn't you hear? Oh, geeze. I don't know how to break it to you kid, but -’

Now, Jamie sat across from her, refusing to meet her eye, pretending to be engrossed with pouring out the last dregs of loose leaf tea from the pot. When it became clear that Dani wasn't going to throw her a bone — not this time, not about this — Jamie said stiffly, "Wasn't like I was given much time to say my goodbyes. Child protection services can move pretty quick, when they want to. Barely had time to pack my bags, truth be told."

Dani opened her mouth to speak, but a bell chimed behind them, and her head turned. Someone had entered the cafe and was walking into the kitchen with smiles and apologies to Owen for being late. More people followed, trickling in from the street, hoping for a fortifying brunch after the Sunday service. It wouldn't be long until the tables filled up. Someone recognised Dani and waved at her. She prayed her smile in return didn't resemble a grimace.

"Excuse me," Jamie murmured, pushing her chair back and rising to her feet.

Dani blinked and turned back to face her. "Oh. Where -?"

"Won't be a moment. Just going to the loo."

She half expected Jamie to not return. Maybe she would make a run for it. Scramble out a rear window and sprint all the way home. Dani pushed her plate further away, appetite gone.

True to her word however, Jamie returned not a few minutes later, but she did not sit back down. "C'mon," she said. "Let's get some fresh air."

Dani stood. She slung her bag over one shoulder and opened it to pull out her wallet.

Jamie waved her away. "No need for that."

"But we need to pay," Dani said, pointing to the till, where a young man was taking orders.

"Already handled," said Jamie. She jerked her head towards the exit, where a line was beginning to form.

Hesitant, Dani stuffed her wallet back into her handbag. As they left, a few others took notice and tried to strike up a conversation. There were remarks about how they noticed her missing at church, and they’d wondered if she had been feeling ill. Dani shook her head and smiled and inched her way out of the cafe without being roped into another cup of coffee. Though it was a narrow escape. 

When they had successfully managed to extricate themselves and were wandering down the street, Dani murmured, "Thank you for breakfast."

"No problem," said Jamie. "Where are you parked?"

Dani gestured further up the street. "Pretty far, actually. About ten minutes that way."

"I'll walk you back."

"You don't have to."

"Yeah, but I want to." Jamie shot her a roguish grin. "Not much else to do on my Sundays except hang out with the kid. And you know how siblings are. We get on each others' nerves at the drop of a hat."

"You could've brought him along," Dani said. "He didn't have to stay at home alone."

Jamie shrugged. "He likes it. Means he gets to watch reruns while I'm gone."

"Quite the Wonder Woman fan, I saw."

"Christ," said Jamie, rolling her eyes. "And — what's the one called? Star Hike? Star Something?"

"Star Trek?"

"Whatever. He won't shut up about it. At least Lynda Carter is easy on the eyes."

Dani had to tuck her thumbs into her fists and refrain from agreeing. She steered the topic towards safer waters, and Jamie seemed all too happy to talk about Mikey. They walked, taking their time. And something seethed in Dani's stomach the more they avoided talking about anything of substance. As if they could just pretend everything was fine. It galled, and every word seemed to turn a key like loading a spring, coiling it taut.

By the time they arrived at her car — parked in a quiet side alley beside the pharmacy, tucked away from the main street  — Dani already gripped her keys in her fist. She offered Jamie a tight smile, "I'll see you later, then."

And the worst part was, Jamie was unreadable again. Just as she had been the whole walk. She leaned her shoulder against the brick cladding of the pharmacy's outer wall and nodded. "'Course," she said, but remained standing there, watching.

For a moment Dani met her gaze, silently daring her to say something — anything, so long as it was actually something — before she unlocked her car and lowered herself into the driver's seat. When she turned the key in the ignition, the engine sputtered and refused to catch.

"Not now," Dani muttered to herself. Her eyes darted to the window, to where Jamie stood witness, and she turned the key again. "Shit."

Jamie's voice was slightly muffled through a layer of glass. "Let me have another look."

Yanking open the door and stepping out, Dani said, "No. I'll call a tow this time. The pharmacy has a phone I can -"

Except Jamie was already leaning across her, reaching into the car to pop the hood. "It's fine. Really."

Dani shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jamie -"

"I can fix it."

"You can't."

"You haven't seen me with a spanner, yet," Jamie said, and she grinned over her shoulder as her fingers sought the latch to lift the hood of the car.

"No, I'm saying — you can't."

Something in her tone made Jamie pause. Dani lowered her hand, only to clench it into a fist, pushing down hard on the knuckle of her thumb. She swallowed, trying to tamp down the nerves that made her feel like she was half-crawling out of her own skin. All that circling around one another — veiled pleasantries and wary exchange of glances — like being inexorably drawn down by the gravity of the very thing neither of them had the courage to voice. 

“I don’t -” Dani started to say, and had to try again when her voice slipped. “I don’t want you to fix my car.” 

Jamie cocked an eyebrow, straightening slowly from where she had been leaning over. "Then what do you want?"

"I want you -" said Dani shakily, "- to talk to me. Actually talk to me."

"Thought I was doing a pretty good job of it until now." Jamie was still grinning, as if with a well-timed joke she might make this whole conversation never happen.

Shaking her head, Dani breathed, "Stop. Just stop.”

“Stop what?” 

“Stop acting like everything's fine. Like this -” Dani gestured between the two of them with sharp little movements “- is fine. Because it's not. And I know you know it."

Jamie’s hand was balanced on the top of the car door, holding it open. She stepped back and shut it, not loudly but firmly. “What’s there to say?”

“You come back after all this time, and you don’t even acknowledge that - that -” Dani grasped for the right words, but the feeling danced just out of reach of articulation, like catching the edge of a bowl on a high shelf with the very tips of her fingers. “Ruth died.”

Jamie’s jaw went tight. “Yeah, I remember. Found her myself, even, if you recall.” 

"And then suddenly you were just -" Dani lifted her hand only to let it drop back to her side "- gone! No goodbye! No note! And I - I had to go on like everything was okay, when it wasn't. Nothing was okay. I wasn't okay.”

“And I was?” 

“No!” Dani said. “That’s not -!”

“You think all this happened because I wanted it?” Jamie asked, making an all-encompassing gesture towards the empty alley. 

“That’s not what I said! I just -!” Dani took a deep breath, trying to steady herself when it felt like the world was rocking on its axis around her. “I missed you. Everyday. I still do."

Jamie stared at her as though the rug had been pulled right out from under her boots. "I'm here now," she said.

"Yeah, but you weren't. Not then. Not when I -!" Dani cut herself off from whatever idiotic thing she'd been about to let slip.

"What the fuck was I supposed to do? I didn’t ‘leave.’ I was taken." Jamie took a step forward, her hands balled into fists at her thighs. "Jesus, Dani, I was sixteen! Sixteen and trying to raise a kid by myself. Can you imagine what kind of disaster I would've -!" But Jamie just turned her head aside, lifting her hand to cover her mouth and shake her head.

"You didn't think to talk to anyone?" Dani asked. "Me? Judy? Or -?"

"Judy? Judy was the one who called social services! And you know what? I'm fucking relieved she did. At the time I was so mad, but now, I -" Jamie swallowed past a burr in her voice. "I couldn't have stayed here even if I wanted to."

For a moment Dani waited, waited for Jamie to say something else, to continue. When she didn't, Dani breathed an incredulous huff of laughter. "What? They -? They un-invent telephones where you went? Never heard of the postal service before?"

Jamie was shaking her head and smiling, an angry rictus grin, as she looked down at her feet and kicked at a loose stone. "Not that simple, is it?"

"Isn't it? God knows I tried to send letters to you. All the time. Even years later."

Jamie still wouldn't look up at her. The line of her mouth was hard. "I couldn't."

"Couldn't?" Dani pressed, and it was her turn to step forward, ducking her head to try and get a good look at Jamie's face. "Or didn't want to?"

"No, I - I wanted -"

"Well, clearly not."

"Dani -"

"Because the Jamie I knew wouldn't have gone down without a fight! The Jamie I knew was -!"

"Jesus fucking Christ! I didn't send you a letter because I couldn't stand it!" Jamie yelled. "Because if it was going to end, then I wanted it over quickly! Put me out of my misery! Send you a letter? Then what?"

Dani's mouth dropped open but no sound came out. Jamie was looking at her now, and her eyes were over-bright, her cheeks flushed, her lower lip trembling. They stood close enough that when Jamie exhaled shakily, Dani could feel the stir of the air. 

Jamie breathed in sharply before she said, "You would've stopped replying. Eventually. You would've slipped away, and I — I couldn't do that. Not this time. Not with you."

The silence stretched between them, terrible and vast. Dani made an abortive movement — to touch her, to do something — but Jamie flinched as if expecting to be slapped. Dani blinked, freezing in place with her hand outstretched, while Jamie ducked her head and wiped briskly at her cheeks. 

"I wouldn't have," Dani said finally, feeling raw, feeling flensed. "I'm still here. I've always been here."

"Yeah. Yeah, y'are." Jamie nodded. She cleared her throat gruffly and straightened.

Slowly, falteringly, feeling brave beyond compare, Dani lowered her hand, only to reach down and touch Jamie’s balled up fist. Jamie started at the contact, her eyes darting down as Dani brushed her thumb against the back of her knuckles until Jamie loosened her hand enough to clasp their fingers together. Dani was enchanted by the way Jamie held her mouth, by the brief flutter of her eyelashes and her unsteady inhalation at that simple touch. 

"So, you missed me?" Jamie gave her a watery grin.

"Of course, I did,” Dani murmured. “You were my best friend."

Jamie nodded, swallowed thickly, but said nothing.

Dani squeezed Jamie’s hand gently, feeling the ghost of that pressure returned before she let go. “Can we -? Can we start over?” Dani asked, and she smiled weakly. “Oh, wow! I'm so glad to see you again! Do you want to catch up sometime?"

Jamie laughed and shoved her hands into her back pockets, rocking in place on her heels. "I'd like that." When she met Dani’s gaze this time, her teeth caught on the side of her lip, a corner of her mouth curling in a smile. “You want to come over for afternoon tea next week?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d love to.”

Jamie jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Probably should have a look under your bonnet, though.”

“God,” Dani muttered, darting past her to pull open the car and pop the hood. “I almost forgot about that. I’m sorry - I - ”

Jamie stilled her movements with a warm hand on Dani’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Really. Let me fix it.” 

Mouth suddenly dry, Dani nodded. “Okay.” 

 --

It was by now second nature for Dani to sweep her eyes across her childhood home the moment she stepped foot in it. By all accounts, it was a picturesque two story house with not a picture frame or vase out of place. The floors swept and vacuumed, the plastic plants eased into corners, dusted and shined. But there were things only Dani had a keen eye for. The thin layer of ash collected on windowsills and corners of kitchen countertops. Empty glasses hidden in bathrooms or the back porch. Empty bottles under the sink that needed to be collected and thrown out. Cigarette butts hidden under sofas and chairs — those scared her the most. 

It was simply her good daughterly duty, to check in at least once a week, fearing the day that there wouldn’t be a childhood home to come back to. She was well versed in the nature of it, and not just the fear and the duty, but the side stepping and placating that came along with it. 

“I just don’t see what the issue is,” her mother said, sitting behind Dani at the small round kitchen table, smoking as Dani cleaned the empty glasses piled in the sink. “You’ve always loved reading.”

Dani sighed. They’ve been circling this conversation since morning before church. “I told you, I don’t have the time for a book club.”

“There’s so many other young women your age there, and they don’t have any issues with time,” her mother said, in between puffs. Dani could practically feel her mother’s hard stare on her back. “Weren’t you friends with some of them? Susan? Jackie?”

Dani clenched her teeth, scrubbing particularly hard at a wine glass. “I’m sorry mom, but no,” she said.

Karen exhaled sharply, expelling a stream of smoke. “I just don’t understand you, Danielle,” she said, her voice cutting. Dani’s shoulders tensed. “We always do anything you want in your free time, but any time I want us to do something together, you can’t even bother. Every time. Every time it’s like this with you.”

There it was. You simply just didn’t say no to Karen Clayton. Not without consequence. Dani learned that a long time ago, browbeaten into something smaller and softer for Karen to mold and subdue when her eyes weren’t so glassy and her words weren’t so unsteady. But the past week had lit a flame under Dani’s feet, a sort of weightlessness she hadn’t felt in so long that she didn’t even remember what it had felt like before. 

Still, it didn’t stop Dani from hunching her shoulders in an attempt to curl into herself as Karen audibly stood from her chair, the legs screeching against the floor. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, as if that would soften the blow, rinsing off the last glass and shutting off the pipe.

Karen scoffed as she opened the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice and a bottle of vodka. When she spoke, the cigarette bobbed between her lips. “No, no. Far be it from me to want to spend more time with my daughter, do something fun together. And the ladies would’ve loved to have you there. They’ll be so disappointed.”

Dani would have laughed if the idea of it didn’t make her feel taut at the seams. There was no fun to be gained sitting in a room with women who either relentlessly taunted her in their youth or whispered behind their books of how Dani was spotted just the other day having dinner with councilman Fields and her perfect fiancé, the promising politician to-be. Nothing to be gained in being her mother’s showdog, paraded around like a prized possession, her mother’s pride and joy. Dani would’ve laughed, if the thought didn’t make her feel hollow.

Instead, Dani frowned, drying her hands on a dish towel as she watched her mother make herself a drink, her mouth pulled tight in a scowl as she poured and mixed, expertly maneuvering the lit cigarette between two fingers. It was her third drink of the day, having already downed two mimosas during lunch. Dani wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling it curdle uncomfortably as she watched.

As her mother took a long sip, Dani murmured, “Work has just been keeping me busy, is all.”

Karen gave her a look. “Honey, you’re a teacher, what could possibly — “ she cut herself off when Dani’s stare hardened. Karen exhaled sharply, turning away to take another sip and stabbing out her smoke in an ashtray Dani had just cleaned. “Never mind.”

“No,” Dani said, pulling her arms tighter around her. “What were you going to say?”

“I said never mind, Danielle,” her mother repeated, her eyes hardened. She sighed and rubbed her temple. “God, I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

Karen stumbled away, retrieving her pack of cigarettes and lighter from the table before wandering out of the kitchen towards the living room. Dani watched her leave, her breathing shallow and her hands clenched into fists. 

It took a minute longer than usual, to let it ease out of her. To let her shoulders drop from her ears and her fists to relax open. Maybe it was her mother switching on the tv to a loud sitcom. Or maybe it was the orange juice and vodka, still laid out on the counter along with other empty bottles that needed to be thrown out. For one brief intense second, Dani considered combing through the entire house for every single bottle and carton of cigarettes, to empty them down the drain and toss them all in the garbage. 

She took it out on the dishes instead, drying them with a cloth, her movements jerky and rushed. If she wasn’t so focused on it, wasn’t frowning so hard down at her reflection in the glass as she focused on trying to ease the tension in her coiled muscles, maybe then she’d have noticed the knock on the front door a second sooner. Maybe then, she would have remembered — 

“Afternoon, Mrs. Clayton. Long time no see.” Jamie’s distinct voice, cheerful and pleasant as ever, came from the front door. 

Remembered that Dani, temporarily car-less, had made plans for Jamie to come pick her up at the old house.

Dani froze at the sound, her eyes wide at the silent interval, and then: “You have some nerve coming back here and knocking on my door,” Karen said, derision dripping from her voice. 

“Shit,” Dani muttered, and rushed to where her mother stood sentry in the doorway. Just over her shoulder stood Jamie on the porch, hands in her pockets and wearing a grin. A familiar grin, one that Dani knew Jamie had worn in the presence of her mother since they were young, placid and charming but which Dani knew hid its own share of derision. When their eyes met over her mother’s shoulders, Jamie’s grin softened. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” Jamie said. 

“You’re early actually,” Dani said, ignoring Karen’s piercing stare as she stepped aside to make room for Dani by the doorway. She had been hoping for her mother to be distracted by her television and her drinks to leave at the same moment that Jamie was supposed to pull up towards the house, but now — 

“Oh? Early for what?” Her mother asked pointedly.

Dani swallowed hard, pulling her mouth into a tense smile as she finally caught her mother’s gaze. “Oh, um. Jamie and I were going to go have tea. To catch up."

Karen hummed, folding her arms across her chest, sparing Jamie another sharp look, and said, “I didn’t realize you two were friends again.”

Any answer Dani could have given became lodged in the back of her throat. Her eyes flickered towards Jamie to find her already staring back, her expression blank but for the soft curl at one corner of her mouth. That was the rub, wasn’t it. Neither of them had identified what it was they were trying to do here. A tenuous strand of hope was threaded between them that afternoon a week ago, but Dani, feeling like a newborn colt on wobbly legs, wasn’t even sure where she stood in the realm of Jamie letting her back into her life. Wasn’t sure how far she herself was willing to go.

“Well, you have to start somewhere, yeah? A cup of tea’s a good enough place as any,” Jamie said, shrugging, her grin turning mischievous as she looked at Dani, “No matter how rancid.”

Dani would have chuckled at the teasing words if it weren’t for the eager thrill going down her spine at Jamie all but confirming the start of something.

Her mother smiled, the curl of her lips more of a sneer than anything. “I see,” was all she said, arching an eyebrow at Dani.

Dread pooled to her stomach, her muscles tensing as Karen bore her eyes into Dani, displeasure leeching off of her, her lips thin. 

Dani cleared her throat, pulling her mouth into a smile until her cheeks ached. “Well, I um. I just have to go get changed, and then we’ll get out of your hair,” she said, mindlessly reaching her hand towards Jamie, whose face flickered with bemusement. 

Karen's face fell. Far too obediently for her own sake, Jamie took hold of her hand, her bemusement morphing into something more mischievous. A shock almost went up from Dani’s palm up to her shoulder at the touch, Jamie’s hand calloused but warm and dry in her own. Letting herself be pulled in the house, Jamie was already toeing off her boots as she offered Karen a wink. Dani squeezed her hand with a reprimanding look when her mother’s eyes hardened. Jamie didn’t even have the decency to look contrite. 

“We’ll just be a few minutes,” Dani said, pulling Jamie insistently towards the staircase, offering her mother one last weak smile, “Promise.”

Her mother huffed and shut the door, disappearing back into the living room with one last scowl. When she was finally out of sight, Dani immediately dropped Jamie’s hand and led her up the stairs with a murmured, “This way.”

Jamie whistled low. “Your mum's still as charming as ever, I see,” Jamie murmured just behind her. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Dani breathed out an awkward chuckle. “She’s, um. She’s been in a bit of a mood today.”

She expected a sharp retort, the kind of snark only her mother could pull out of Jamie, but instead there was silence behind her. Dani glanced over her shoulder with a frown to see Jamie staring thoughtfully at the framed photos lining the staircase walls as they climbed. Portraits of Dani throughout the years, family photos of just Dani and her mom, and photos with Eddie intermittently spread across the board. It wasn’t anything new or special, photos Dani’s seen a million times that they could’ve faded into the walls, and she wouldn’t have noticed. But as she followed Jamie’s eyeline towards Dani’s high school graduation portrait, Jamie’s eyes lingering intently on it as they passed, a dull ache spread across Dani’s chest and she spun back around, swallowing hard. 

When they reached her bedroom, Dani shut the door closed with a click, the sound uncomfortably loud in the sudden quiet. Six years. Six years of after school hangouts, of homework, of sleepovers, and never once had Jamie appeared so out of place as she did now, standing in the middle of the pale pink of Dani’s childhood bedroom, hands tucked deep in the pockets of her jeans, her expression carefully blank as she took in the scene. 

“Hasn’t changed much,” Jamie said. 

“Wasn’t really any need to,” Dani murmured, still trying to shake off the panic of having Jamie in her room for the first time in a decade, trying desperately not to recall the memories of the last time they had been in this room together.

As if her mind had drifted towards the same place, Jamie’s gaze wandered over to the purple comforters of Dani’s bed, visibly swallowed hard, and promptly meandered away towards Dani’s bookshelf. Feeling as if she’d both seen too much, and not enough at all, Dani cleared her throat and started towards her closet where she still kept some change of clothes, blindly pulling some out. 

With clothes in hand, she froze on the spot and murmured, “Um.”

At the sound, Jamie looked back at her and then down at the clothes she clutched in a fist. She blinked for a moment and then grinned. “Need me to turn around?” She asked, twirling a finger in a circle as a curious pale flush spread across her cheeks.

Dani felt her stomach swoop and drop, her cheeks warming. She chuckled breathlessly. “No, It’s — It’s okay. I’ll just — I’ll be a minute,” she said, and didn’t even wait for Jamie to reply as she darted out the room to change in the bathroom. 

In the time it took to change into jeans and a blouse, she managed to ease the tremble in her hands. To settle the panic of Jamie alone in her room, and of the embarrassment of just rushing out like that. Maybe it was a fool’s hope, to believe that things could’ve been easier after they had finally aired the frustrations of their reality. That things could’ve just inexplicably gone back to the way they were, and it would’ve suddenly been easier to look and talk to Jamie without feeling as unmoored as she did. 

When she returned to the room, she found that Jamie had wandered now over to her vanity, her arms loosely folded as she looked at the photos taped to the edges of Dani’s mirror. Photos that Dani knew contained so many memories that didn’t involve Jamie, memories that Jamie wasn’t around to take part of. Dani took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hanging her dress on a rack behind her closet door. 

It was simply the new normal, Dani reminded herself. The dawn of their fresh start, something she’d have to keep reminding herself until they finally found their footing, or until they eased their way into something different and new. The thought left her feeling unexpectedly calmer. 

Striding towards the vanity, she caught Jamie’s eyes through the mirror and gave her a small grin. 

“Senior prom looked fun,” Jamie said, taking one last scan of the photos before retreating to the other side of the room just as Dani stepped next to her. 

Ducking her eyes, Dani smiled weakly down at the contents of her dresser. “You didn’t miss much, to be honest,” she said, and began to exchange her modest earring studs to a pair of gold hoops. “Someone spiked the punch and almost everyone got super drunk.”

“You kidding? That’s loads of blackmail material right there for the taking,” Jamie said. “At least tell me you took advantage of that?”

Dani gave her a look through the mirror. Jamie rolled her eyes and shook her head, her grin fond. “A goddamn waste,” she murmured, and then unexpectedly sobered. “I’m sorry, by the way.”

Dani froze, her eyes locked on Jamie, feeling her shoulders tense. “For what?”

“For riling your mum up like that. Habit, I guess,” Jamie said, shrugging with a rueful smile, before softly adding, “And also, everything else.”

There was something to be said with the way Dani’s heart immediately softened, her throat going thick at Jamie’s earnestness. The mirror needed a polish, and Jamie’s reflection was slightly smudged, so that she seemed to be standing further away in the background, as though a camera lens had been dialed out of focus. The new normal, Dani reminded herself. “I know,” she murmured, smiling faintly. “Me too.”

Jamie nodded, exhaling shakily and ducked her head to delve deeper in the room. Dani watched her silently through the mirror, brushing out her hair as Jamie wandered around as if she were in a museum, hands tucked away and her expression back to being painfully blank. When she finally reached Dani’s bedside table, she jerked to a stop, staring down at the one thing Dani had never found the heart to remove. The one photo left of Jamie out in the open, the only one framed and resting at her bedside, proving that she was here, that she had once existed in the orbit of Dani’s gravity. 

It was one of Dani’s favorites. Taken when they were around fifteen, sometime in the evening after a long spring day, Jamie holding Dani up in a piggyback ride with Dani’s arms wrapped around Jamie’s shoulders, the pair smiling so big and bright. Dani didn’t even remember what they were doing that day, only that feeling of endless carefree days, when she felt most like herself. 

She watched as Jamie picked up the frame, her face softening until she wore a faint but fond grin. Do you miss it too? Dani wanted to ask. Did you miss me? Instead, she looked away as Jamie’s throat bobbed, feeling again as if she’d seen too much. 

She finished by tying her hair up neatly with a blue scrunchie, exhaled softly, and said, “All done.”

Jamie cleared her throat and returned the photo to the bedside table, and said, “Right.”

The escape out of the house was easier than Dani had expected it to be. While Jamie slipped her boots back on, Dani retrieved a takeout bag she had left on the kitchen counter before bidding her mother goodbye for the day. Karen merely waved with a hum, distracted by the tv, though her mouth was still pulled tight in a scowl. 

They were almost out the front door scot-free when Jamie, clearly unable to help herself, smirked and called out just before the door shut, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Clayton. I’ll have her home by eleven.”

Dani huffed and knocked her elbow into Jamie’s ribs. At Jamie’s grunt, Dani bit her lip to contain her grin and shut the front door. 

“Your elbows are still as sharp as ever,” Jamie said, rubbing at her ribs, grinning widely as they strolled towards Jamie’s truck, as if the fresh air and distance from Dani’s room made it easier. “You Clayton women are pieces of work. Do I have that to look forward to in another twenty years?” she said, jerking her thumb behind her. 

Even as a thrill went down Dani’s spine at the thought of twenty more years of Jamie, she rolled her eyes and said, “Keep talking like that, and you just might.” Jamie smirked in response. 

The truck was warm from the afternoon sun as Dani slid in the passenger seat. There was a faint citrusy smell along with the little tree air freshener as if it had just been cleaned. When she caught sight of a variety of stickers attached to the glove compartment — a collection ranging between Star Wars, Star Trek, cartoons she vaguely recognized, and a legion of silver stars — Dani hid her smile by biting her lower lip. 

“What’s this, then?” Jamie said, gesturing down to the takeout bag Dani held in her lap as she started the engine. 

Dani grinned sheepishly. “Lunch. From Owen’s,” she said, “Can’t visit someone else’s home without bringing something.”

“You don’t have to do that with me, you know,” Jamie said as they took off down the street, not looking at her. “All that social niceties bullshit. All you need to do is bring yourself. S’all I care about.”

Leaning her head against the headrest, Dani watched Jamie’s profile with a soft grin. “It’s a midwestern thing,” she explained. “Besides, I wanted to.”

Jamie spared her a short glance, grinning crookedly. “The kid’ll appreciate that then,” she said, returning her gaze to the road. “My cooking is not up to snuff most days.”

A thought suddenly occurred to Dani. “You did tell him, right? That I was visiting?” she said, lifting her head and sitting upright.

“Oh no, I figured we’d surprise him.” When Dani gave her a look, Jamie rolled her eyes. “Of course I told him. D’you think I’m bloody mad? Imagine you at twelve years old, having a nice day at home when whatsherface from fourth grade comes knocking on your door for an afternoon cuppa with your mum. Christ, I may be a prat, but not that much of a prat.”

Dani laughed, and said, “You’re not a prat.” It was Jamie’s turn to give Dani a look. “Okay, maybe just a little. For comparing me to Mrs. Walker.”

“Believe me. You are miles ahead of that woman.”

A warmth spread across Dani’s chest up to her cheeks. With a pleased grin, Dani turned to stare at the passing buildings and landmarks as they drove by. The drive wasn’t too long, but it was filled with anecdotes of surviving their hard-nosed fourth grade teacher. 

“That’s putting it mildly,” Jamie muttered. “She was mental.”

“Fourth graders can get rowdy.”

Jamie snorted, and shot her a dry stare. “She yelled at you for reading ahead.”

Dani paused. “I actually forgot about that.”

Jamie chuckled as they pulled up to a house. “Right, here we are. Home sweet home.”

Dani eagerly leaned forward to look up at it through the windshield, smiling softly at the modest two story house. Pale grey with white shutters, a small porch right up front, and a bright red door. There were flower boxes along the windows on the first floor, blooming colorfully bright, and as she hopped out of the truck, she could see that there were also beds of flowers growing right along the walls of the house. 

“It’s beautiful, Jamie,” Dani said softly. 

Jamie shrugged. “Front’s all right. Back is a bit more of a mess.”

“Kinda have trouble believing that,” Dani said, enchanted with how picturesque it all looked. 

Jamie rolled her eyes and started up the front steps to the door, swiftly unlocking it. But as soon as Jamie led Dani inside, they both heard the thudding of feet bounding up a flight of stairs and the telltale sound of a door slamming shut. Dani hesitated, shooting Jamie a worried look. 

Rolling her eyes again, Jamie huffed and shut the front door. “Dunno what he thinks hiding is gonna do,” she grumbled, pulling her boots off, gesturing for Dani to do the same. “Gonna have to come down at some point.”

“Are you sure this is okay?” Dani slowly asked, setting her shoes neatly aside on a rubber mat. 

“Seemed perfectly fine when I told him.” Dani gave her a dubious look. “Okay, I bargained pizza for dinner with him, and he promised not to be a git about it, so it looks like pizza’s off the table for now,” Jamie said, her words gruff but still unable to hide a grin. It was charming, but did very little to comfort Dani, worrying her lower lip. Seeing this, Jamie softened. “Look, just give him a minute to settle. You know how us Taylors are.”

Slowly, the tension in Dani’s shoulders eased, and she nodded with a small grin. “Yeah, I do."

Jamie mirrored her grin for a moment before clearing her throat and stuffing her hands in her pockets. “Right, well. How about a bit of a tour?” she said, gesturing broadly to the house, “That’s another thing you midwesterners like doing, yeah?”

Dani grinned dubiously and said, “You realize you are a midwesterner, right?” 

Jamie snorted. “Hardly."

The first thing Dani noticed was how bright it was. Every window they passed was wide open with the curtains tied back, letting the afternoon light bounce across the off-white walls and a warm breeze waft through the rooms. The second thing she noticed was that there were plants everywhere. Greenery eased into corners and on tables and ledges. As Jamie led her through the kitchen to drop off the takeout, Dani smiled at the various plants and flowers propped up on the fridge and counters.

Leaving the takeout bag on the counter next to the sink where a variety of pots rested on the ledge just behind it, basking in the sun, Jamie stepped next to her and gave a curious shake to the watering can that sat in the sink. 

“Ass didn’t even finish watering them,” Jamie grumbled, but at Dani’s chuckle, she shook her head and grinned, turning around to lean her back against the counter. “Guess this is the kitchen.”

“It’s lovely,” Dani said, taking in the white cupboards and dark countertops. She especially liked the small dining table separated by the kitchen island that sat cramped next to the open window overlooking the small glimpse of what Dani could see as the backyard. 

“Tell me how you really feel,” Jamie said. “Needs some work, more like. Feels like every time I empty a box, another magically appears, I swear.”

Dani couldn’t say she knew the feeling. Every box in the house she shared with Eddie that was emptied and packed away felt like one step closer to a locked cage. She didn't say this though, didn’t let it show on her face, not when there already seemed to be a strange sort of stiffness to Jamie’s shoulders as she guided Dani out of the kitchen, gesturing with her chin towards the door that led to the basement with her hands deep in her pockets. Tense eyes that refused to meet Dani’s own as she pointed out the bathroom and various cupboards and closets, like she was nervous as to what she might see in Dani’s expression. 

Like the truck, the house smelled like it had just been cleaned. Floors swept and not a speck of dust in sight, like the house had been cleansed of anything unsavoury. There was something both sweet and unnerving to it. Slowly, as if leeching off the nervous energy from Jamie, Dani wrapped her arms around her stomach, wishing she knew what to say as Jamie guided her towards the living room. 

She wished she could tell sixteen year Jamie how charming the visibly well worn and loved the mismatched furniture was. The same Jamie who was taunted relentlessly for living in the poorest neighborhood in town, but never seemed to care when it came to Dani. Wished she knew how to tell this Jamie, who seemed to think Dani was the kind of person who grew to care about such a thing. Wished she knew how to tell her that every single object, every single plant and knickknack and visible record vinyl was like getting a piece of the puzzle back, like getting little pieces of Jamie back. 

New normal, she reminded herself faintly, meandering away from Jamie to wander around the living room, eyes darting about, hungrily taking everything in.

When her eyes landed on the picture frames lining the mantle, her stomach twisted tightly, and slowly, she neared them. There were only four, and while they were so few, it somehow made them all the more precious given how Dani hadn’t seen a single other photo among the rest of the house. 

The first one she sought was a charming school photo of Mikey, looking just a few years younger, smiling wide with his hair tamed and slicked back from his usual mess of curls. The one next to it was an old black and white portrait of a striking woman who could only be Ruth Heron, square-jawed and stern-eyed even in her youth. The next one Dani actually remembered taking; Jamie on her fifteenth birthday, sitting in front a cake with lit candles, wearing a wide crooked grin as she held a baby Mikey in her lap with Ruth standing just beside them, an arm across Jamie’s shoulders and wearing a rare warm smile. Dani swallowed against a lump in her throat, her grin rueful, memories of that day warming her skin.  

When she reached the last photo, she paused. It was of Jamie and Mikey, though Mikey was much younger than he was now, looking near six years old. Small enough for Jamie to hold up against her hip with his arms wrapped around her shoulders, both wearing near identical smiles. Jamie stood shin deep in water, her pants rolled up to her knees though still damp at the edges, and behind them was nothing but dark blue water. Dani’s hands itched to touch the frame, to pick it up and inspect it more closely. 

“Atlantic ocean,” Jamie’s voice came from behind her. 

Dani jerked the hand away that had been inching across the mantle, spinning around to see Jamie had stepped nearer, hands still in her pockets, shoulders still tense but the corners of her mouth curled faintly. 

“Sorry,” Dani said, balling her hands in fists by her side.

Jamie shook her head. “S’alright,” she said, and shrugged, “Only fair, I guess.”

Dani chuckled, recalling the way Jamie had seemed unable to remove her own gaze from the photos in her childhood house. She gestured towards the photo and said, “You saw the Atlantic?” 

Jamie hummed, her eyes straying to the photo in question, her face softening into a fond smile, and stepped closer. “Scarborough, Maine if you want to get particular about it,” she said, “Water was cold. He didn’t want to get in or let me stray too far. First time he ever let me hold him like that.”

“Good day?” Dani asked, still looking at Jamie.

“Yeah,” Jamie murmured, nodding. 

There was something enrapturing with the pensive warmth in Jamie’s face, eyes distant as though she was recalling that day. But all too quickly, the look was gone, cleared away to a carefully blank expression. 

“Anyways,” Jamie said, clearing her throat, and gesturing with a nod of her head behind her, putting on a grin, “Backyard’s this way.” Dani followed dutifully as Jamie led them to a door near the kitchen, already open save for the mesh screen to let in the breeze. She pulled the screen open and gestured for Dani to take a look. “Remember. Bit of a mess.”

Giving Jamie a look, Dani peeked her head out, feeling distinctly like was looking at an unfinished piece of artwork. There was a porch that encompassed the whole length of the back of the house, painted white and swept clean, various tools and gardening supplies shoved into each corner. The backyard itself was larger than Dani expected, clearly still in the process of being cleared; the grass was cut and weeds removed, but there still remained unwanted bushes and a collection of yard waste bags filled to the brim scattered around. Near the back corner, there were more tools and supplies shucked by an old shed that seemed as if it could give Dani tetanus just by looking at it. It wasn’t as much of a mess as Jamie had made it out to be, but Dani could see the potential in it. 

“Isn’t much yet, obviously,” Jamie said, leaning her shoulder against the wall next to the door, “Haven’t had time to work on it, unfortunately, due to work and all.”

Dani spared her a soft grin before stepping out on the porch, the wood warm beneath her feet, and leaned against the wood railing. “So what’s the plan?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Jamie who stared at her with an odd look for a moment before following her outside and leaning on the railing next to her. 

“The plan,” Jamie said, exhaling as she looked over the yard, “Haven’t thought about it much.”

“Bull,” Dani said. Jamie smirked at her, shaking her head fondly. “Seriously, what’s the plan?”

“All right,” Jamie murmured.

Leaning her chin on her fist, Dani watched as Jamie explained her vision for the backyard, eyes bright and gesturing towards different corners of the grass, pointing out which flowers would go where, and which vegetable plot there. 

“Could use a tree,” Dani offered. “A fruit tree, maybe.”

“What kind?”

Dani hummed in thought. “Apple.”

“All right, where?”

“Somewhere there.” Dani gestured in a vague direction towards the back.  

Jamie chuckled, and said, “That’s where the greenhouse is going.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “Fine, a cherry blossom out front.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jamie grinned. “All right, anything else?”

“I’ll let you know.” The warm breeze brushed against Dani’s skin as they chuckled. When they fell quiet, listening to the trees rustle, Dani straightened after a moment, and said, “I always knew you were gonna do something with plants.”

“That right?” Jamie said, straightening to lean against a pillar, eyes still warm, but there was a guardedness to it now. 

Dani nodded. “You always complained about it, always wanted to do something else when Nan put you to work but,” she paused, eyes drifting back to the yard, recalling those days Jamie would roll on her back in the grass next to Dani after a long day of chores, eyes shut with the faintest of smiles, her nose speckled with sun kissed freckles. Dani’s mouth curved into a warm smile, “You were content after.” 

Her gaze drifted back to Jamie who was watching her with an unreadable expression. Soft as it was, it sent Dani’s stomach fluttering not unpleasantly. And then, Jamie blinked and glanced away, shrugging. “That’s the thing with plants, I suppose,” Jamie said. “Easier than people. Predictable. Good listeners. Give back what you give them.”

Dani’s smile gradually slipped away, and before she could find the words to respond, Jamie pushed off the pillar and gestured to the house. Dutifully, Dani followed her back inside. The rest of the tour went by at speed light with Jamie leading her upstairs, pointing vaguely to three doors she described as another bathroom, her own bedroom, and a spare room they mostly used for things they haven’t found a place for yet, until they reached the last door at the end of the hallway, covered in more stickers. 

“And this’ll be the kid himself,” Jamie said, winking at Dani before knocking hard on the door, "Oi, unless you’ve got a hankering for my dry pasta, I suggest you best get yourself sorted out in five minutes for lunch.”

There was audible scrambling from behind the door. Dani shook her head with a grin as Jamie chuckled under her breath. “Yeah, yeah, fine, I’ll be down,” Mikey called through the door. 

When they returned downstairs to the kitchen, Jamie immediately went about setting up a kettle on the stove to boil. 

“You know, you don’t have to spook him for my sake,” Dani said, watching Jamie comfortably move about in her own kitchen. 

Jamie chuckled, “He’ll be all right. Gives back just as good as I give him, believe me.”

“You mean like all those Star Trek reruns he subjects you to?” Dani said, grinning. 

Jamie groaned. “This entire week’s been a nightmare. You’d have thought it was the World Cup last Monday, and I bet it’ll be the same tomorrow,” she said, “Absolute torture, I’m telling you.”

“I’m sure,” Dani said, chuckling.

At the sound of the floor creaking behind them, they both turned to see Mikey standing in the entrance to the kitchen, fidgeting with his hands and looking just as anxious as he’d been that day Dani first spoke to him about his math homework. 

“Christ, took you long enough,”Jamie said, “What were you hiding from? The boogeyman?”

“Maybe,” Mikey said with a pointed scowl at Jamie who snorted.

Just barely refraining from rolling her eyes, Dani smiled gently down at him, and said, “Hi.”

Catching her eyes, Mikey’s scowl immediately evaporated into a shy anxious grin. “Hi, Miss Clayton,” he said.

“How’s your weekend been?”

He shrugged noncommittally, his eyes flickering away to the floor. “Was okay,” he said, and then twisted his face around as if thinking something through with a great deal of effort before meeting her eyes again and adding hesitantly, “How was yours?”

“I could say the same,” she said, and leaned forward just a little as if divulging a secret, “Though don’t tell Jamie this, but I think it’s gotten a lot better today.”

She was surprisingly pleased when Mikey broke into a grin, and even more so when his face scrunched up in bewilderment, glancing at Jamie dubiously and asked, “Why? Because of her?”

Dani was unable to hold back a snort when Jamie huffed behind her. “Y’know, unless you want the boogeyman to eat your lunch and bite your head off for dessert, I suggest you help set the table.”

Jumping into action, Mikey did as he was told, grabbing the plates Jamie handed to him and a set of cutlery from a drawer to set on the kitchen table. 

“Do you need help?” Dani asked. 

“Nope, you’re our guest,” Jamie said, offering Dani a grin over her shoulder, “You just sit right there, and get yourself comfortable.”

With nothing better to do, Dani settled into a chair at the table, resting her chin on her palm and trying not to watch the pair too closely, but it was hard not to. Not with the way Mikey seemed to brighten from the shy boy she was familiar with to one who bickered quietly with Jamie on who got which favored mug. Not with the way they danced around each other with ease, grabbing things from cupboards and drawers to place on the table. But when Mikey rolled his eyes at another one of Jamie’s quips, snickering and jumping away from a well aimed kick to the back of his legs, all at once Dani could see the ghost of a twelve year old Jamie in his soft features, and she had to finally look away. 

When they finally settled into their chairs adjacent to Dani, teapot on the table and takeout bag in hand, she helped them distribute the three sandwiches she had bought. 

“I wasn’t sure what else to get, so I got us something I remembered you liked,” Dani explained, anxiously watching them unwrap their lunch.

Jamie offered her a grin. “Like I said. Can’t go wrong with Owen’s handiwork,” she said, a glint appearing in her eyes, “But — “

“Oh no,” Dani muttered.

“But,” Jamie repeated, chuckling and opening her sandwich to pull out a pickle that had been peeking out the side, “If I ever see you bring a gherkin into my house again, we’re gonna have some words.”

“Oh,” Dani murmured, her cheeks going warm as Mikey followed suit, leaving the pickles on the side of his plate with an awkward grin. “Sorry. I - um. Guess I forgot.”

“S’alright,” Jamie said, giving the teapot a quick glance before pouring tea in each of their cups, “Next time.”

The thought of a next time sent a thrill down Dani’s spine, her mouth flickering into a pleased smile down at her food, and with a sudden brazenness that surprised even her, Dani reached out to Jamie’s plate to pluck a discarded pickle and eat it. Jamie froze, eyes wide, and laughed. 

“Now why do I get the feeling you forgot on purpose?” Jamie said, eyes bright.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Dani said, shrugging and not meeting Jamie’s eyes.

Jamie laughed again, and without prompting, relinquished both hers and Mikey’s discarded pickles on Dani’s plate with a flourish. Dani caught her eye, grinning in thanks. 

Mikey watched this all with a puzzled frown as he poured sugar into his tea before sliding the small container towards Dani. “Um, Miss Clayton, do you want sugar?”

“Yes, thank you,” Dani said with a grin, tossing in a few teaspoons of sugar. “You know,” she started slowly, reaching for the milk to pour in enough until it was the color of pale bark. “You don’t really have to call me that, I’m not your teacher here. You can just call me Dani.”

When she set the milk back down, she caught Mikey looking at her tea with wide eyes just short of aghast and Jamie shaking her head. 

“Just ignore it,” Jamie said, “And whatever you do, never accept a brew from her. It’s probably poisoned.”

Dani rolled her eyes and kicked at Jamie under the table who shied away, grinning into her sandwich. When she looked back at Mikey, his face was slightly pained. “Okay - um. Miss Dani,” he said, and at Jamie’s snort he glowered at her. 

Dani smiled gently when he bit into his sandwich, chewing roughly. “You know, I’ve always been impressed with your manners,” she said, chuckling when his eyes darted to her in surprise, “I’m just not sure where you’ve gotten them from, ‘cause I know you didn’t get them from Jamie.”

“Oi!” Jamie said. While Mikey had no problems snorting loudly, Dani fought hard to not laugh at the exaggerated look of betrayal on Jamie’s face, biting hard at her lip. “I’ve got plenty manners, thank you very much. Gentlemanly one might say. Perfectly charming.” Dani caught Mikey’s eye and they shared a mischievous grin. “Oh, I see how it is. This is what I get for inviting you over and treating you to my patented Taylor hospitality.” Dani only hummed, hiding her grin as she sipped on her tea. Jamie gave her a dry look and said, “Never again.”

Dani laughed, unable to help herself. A fond grin slowly creeped it’s way on Jamie’s face, shaking her head.

Mikey’s eyes bounced between the two of them curiously, landing on Dani with a small frown. “Miss Cla — Miss Dani?”

“Just Dani is fine.”

Mikey’s face twisted, settling into a stubborn frown, and firmly said, “Miss Clayton — ” Jamie shared a small grin with her out of the corner of her eyes “ — Jamie said you both grew up together.”

“We did,” Dani said, smiling indulgently. 

“Did you also know me?”

“She sure did,” Jamie said, smirking. “Changed your diapers and everything.”

Mikey’s eyes immediately went wide and his cheeks red, hiding his face as he returned to his sandwich. When Jamie chuckled, Dani gave her a look. Jamie merely responded with a sheepish shrug.  

“Hey, you know that photo on the mantel? The one from Jamie’s birthday?” Dani started, patiently waiting for Mikey to meet her eyes. When he did, curious and nodding, Dani tilted her head, her grin soft. “I took that photo.”

His eyes widened, “Really?” At her nod, he took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully, and said with his mouth full, “That’s cool.”

Dani chuckled, and after a brief moment of consideration, she spared Jamie a sly look. “And you know,” she said slowly, grinning when Jamie frowned suspiciously at her. Dani ignored the look and turned back to a curious Mikey. “Jamie was telling me that you’re a big Star Trek fan.”

Jamie froze. “Dani.”

Dani continued to ignore her, her grin wide as Mikey’s eyes lit up, straightening in his seat. “Yeah! Are you one too?”

“Dani — “ Jamie tried again, her voice pained.

“I used to watch reruns of the original, and the weird cartoon they made.”

“I have the VHS tapes for all the movies!” Mikey said, “I even taped the new show last week, have you seen it?”

“I haven’t actually,” Dani said, enjoying the horror creeping on Jamie’s face way too much as Mikey seemed to nearly bounce in his seat with newfound energy. “Is it any good?”

“It’s amazing, do you — “ he paused, seeming to slow down, a sudden shyness overtaking him, “Do you wanna watch?”

“Christ, not again,” Jamie groaned, burying her face in one hand, rubbing at her forehead, resignation settling heavy on her shoulders. 

Dani laughed, and said, “I’d love to.”

At the rate Mikey finished his sandwich and tea, lunch was quickly over. Before Jamie could get a word edged in, Mikey shot up from his seat, grabbed their empty plates and cups to dump in the sink, rushed out a breathless, “Thank you for lunch, Miss Clayton,” before dashing into the living room to set up the tv.

Left alone to bask in the aftermath of Mikey’s hurricane of excitement, Dani leaned her elbows on the table, pulling her lips between her teeth to hide her smile as Jamie stared at her. “I’m beginning to think you may be the devil in disguise,” Jamie said dryly. Dani laughed again, unable to help herself as Jamie grumbled under her breath, standing to step towards the sink. “Laughs at me, she does. Who knew human suffering was just a barrel of laughs.”

Shaking her head, Dani stood and followed Jamie to the sink as she opened the tap, nudging Jamie’s shoulder with her own. It earned Dani a grin, the terse edges of Jamie’s mouth gone, leaving only indulgent fondness that seemed to strike hard at Dani’s chest, leaving her somewhat breathless. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jamie said, handing Dani a cloth. 

Dani slowly took it, carefully avoiding Jamie’s hand, and said, “I promise to go easy on you from now on.”

A curious look crossed Jamie’s face, one that Dani didn’t have time to decipher before Jamie was grinning crookedly again. “Best not to make promises you can’t keep," she said, and winked.

Feeling her stomach twist, Dani matched her grin and they both set about cleaning the dishes. Jamie washing and Dani drying in companionable silence, Jamie’s shoulder and arm occasionally brushing up against Dani’s, warm to the touch. Dani wore a soft grin the entire time. When they were done, Jamie dug through her fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer, offering one to Dani, only to shrug when Dani shook her head no, replacing one back.

“I am definitely going to need this if I’m going to survive the next hour and a half,” Jamie said, popping open a bottle. 

Dani blinked. “An hour and a half?”

Jamie snorted, pointing the bottle towards Dani. “You made your bed,” she said, taking a hefty swig. 

Making their way to the living room, Mikey was already set up in the middle of the couch, legs crossed with a remote in hand while the big boxy tv set up on the other side of the room was paused, the screen flickering over a distorted image. Jamie collapsed on one side of Mikey, lounging back with an arm resting on the back of the couch, and her legs stretched out on the coffee table, one leg crossed over the other. Dani meanwhile, sat gingerly on the other side of Mikey, stiffly sinking into the soft blue cushions, her shoulder resting inches away from Jamie’s hand. 

Jamie sighed. “All right, let’s get this over with.”

Mikey knocked his arm into Jamie’s rib. Grunting, Jamie retaliated by flicking his ear. Mikey swiped her hand away, huffing before turning to Dani, and asked, “Ready?”

Chuckling at the sibling antics, Dani nodded. “Ready.”

Dani settled in as Mikey excitedly pressed play, the screen coming to life as planets flew by and familiar music began to play. Dani’s mouth slowly curled into a warm smile. It was as though she absorbed Mikey’s excitement, anticipation buzzing at her skin, nostalgia draping over her like a warm cloak. The memories of curling up next to her dad as they sat through another rerun together weren’t unexpected, but they did spread a warm and somber fondness through her. Her smile faltered just slightly. 

As Mikey murmured along to the intro under his breath, Dani felt eyes on her. Flicking her gaze to her right, she was met with Jamie staring at her with gentle concern. When Jamie arched a questioning eyebrow, Dani shook her head and smiled. Jamie stared for a moment longer, before returning her eyes to the tv, taking a sip of her beer. Dani kept her gaze fixed on Jamie for just a second longer, studying her profile, before returning it back to the show, chuckling silently at Mikey’s murmured recitings. 

It was strangely easy, to sink further into the cushions, to settle in the comfortable silence with Jamie and Mikey, curtains closed to block the glare of the evening light and swinging gently in the breeze. To share another grin with Jamie as a man in out of place medieval looking clothes appeared on screen, Jamie’s feet rocking back and forth. To chuckle when Jamie received another elbow to the ribs as she sipped her beer after muttering a “Cheers, mate,” when the aforementioned man decried human civilization, and Mikey muttered back, “Stop being embarrassing."

Dani got lost in the warmth of it, taken in with Jamie’s teasing and soft grins, and Mikey’s shy eyes and barely restrained eagerness. A slow ache creeping across her chest, pulling apart the fragile seams that held together the longing for what could have been as Mikey, over time, relaxed deeper and deeper on the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest as he slowly leaned his back against Jamie. Dani carefully observed them when he rested his head against Jamie’s shoulder, her heart swelling as Jamie’s eyes slowly drifted down to Mikey relaxing against her side, her face softening in the diffused evening light, a corner of her mouth curling into a faint smile. As though feeling Dani’s gaze on her, Jamie’s eyes darted up and caught her own. Dani’s grin widened as Jamie fondly rolled her eyes, turning back to the tv. 

When the episode drew to a close, a pair of giant space jellyfish reunited once more to the sound of Jamie’s exasperated sighs, Mikey turned back to Dani, eyes bright and eager with questions; if she enjoyed it, what were her favorite parts, who was her favorite character? Dani laughed and answered as best as she could while Jamie left them to it, retrieving another beer from the fridge before returning to listen quietly as Dani and Mikey discussed the episode. But when Mikey began enthusiastically planning for next Sunday, Jamie nudged him in the shoulder with a tisk. 

“Don’t go making plans without asking the lady first,” Jamie said. 

“Oh,” Mikey murmured, looking up at Dani, his eyes shy again. “Do you want to come back next week to watch the next episode, Miss Clayton?”

Dani softened under the stare of his brown eyes, aware that Jamie was watching with a careful blank expression. “I’d love to,” Dani said, and grinned at him, “Only as long as you call me Dani from now on when I’m here.”

Mikey made a face, and finally relented with a nod. Pleased, Dani glanced back up at Jamie whose face was still curiously blank for a moment before she cleared her throat, and said, “Reckon I should get you home in time for dinner then.”

Dani froze. “Oh,” she said, struck by the reminder that there was an entire world that existed outside Jamie’s house that she needed to return to. She swallowed against the discomfort rising in her throat, her mouth flickering with a faint smile. “Guess you’re right.”

Jamie shot her another grin before rising to her feet, ruffling Mikey’s hair and disappearing back into the kitchen. Dani stood, hands fidgeting as she grinned down at Mikey. “Well, it was good to see you,” she said. 

“You too,” he replied softly, just a touch of that anxious tension returning to his shoulders now that there was no longer the topic of Star Trek to play as a buffer between them. 

Dani forced her smile to relax as Jamie returned sans beer bottle, hands tucked into her jeans again as she stood waiting. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school, okay?” Dani said, offering him one last grin, “I really enjoyed watching the show with you.”

Mikey’s smile brightened slightly. “Me too,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

She left him with one last small wave, and let Jamie quietly guide her towards the front door where Dani slipped on her shoes. 

“Thank you,” Dani said softly, “For having me.”

Jamie grinned crookedly. “My pleasure,” she said, and her shoulders bunched up an inch, that same uneasiness from earlier edging its way into the lines of her face. 

Dani hesitated briefly, and said, “He really seems to enjoy it. Sharing it with you.” Jamie’s eyes softened, and she ducked her head to hide it. Heartened at the unexpected shyness, Dani risked adding, “Try to go easy on him.”

Jamie snorted, but nodded all the same. “You don’t have to come watch again, you know. Honestly. God knows I’m already plagued with this obsession of his, don’t need that on your plate any more than I do.”

“I want to,” Dani said, firmly enough that Jamie’s mouth snapped shut, blinking in surprise, “I had fun.”

“All right,” Jamie murmured, a slow warm smile brightened her face.  

“Besides,” Dani continued, “What kind of friend would I be if I disappointed Mikey? If I let you go through that alone?”

“So I passed the test?” 

Dani’s brow furrowed at the question. “The test?” 

“We’re friends again?”

It was like something slammed into Dani’s chest, the way her breath escaped her. A thickness grew in Dani’s throat, her muscles twitching to move, and before she knew what she was doing, she was stepping closer, being pulled in like gravity until her arms were wrapping around Jamie’s tense shoulders and she was pressing her face against the soft flannel fabric of her shoulder. It was like a shock to her system, having Jamie in her arms again, like being jolted back to life. 

“Of course we’re friends,” she murmured, nearly breathless, and after what felt like ages, Jamie’s arms wrapped around her, encompassing her waist and pulling her in close. Dani exhaled slowly, her breath unsteady as she felt Jamie’s shoulders relax, sinking into the hug with a sigh of her own. Distantly, Dani wondered if Jamie could hear Dani’s pounding heart. If she could feel the tremble in her hands as they pressed against Jamie’s firm back. 

She closed her eyes and sank further into it, digging her hands into Jamie’s shirt and breathing her in. The smell of the earth and fresh laundry detergent hidden under Jamie’s preferred sandalwood cologne both comforting and familiar that Dani could’ve smiled into the crook of Jamie’s neck, if only it weren’t for the thickness of her throat. It twisted tight at her stomach until she finally lowered her arms, head ducked. 

Jamie released her immediately, stepping away and clearing her throat. “Right,” she said gruffly, not meeting Dani’s eyes as she raked a hand through her hair, ruffling it up into an unruly mess. 

Dani swallowed hard and smiled weakly at the flyaways she itched to smooth down. Instead, she met Jamie’s eyes and said, “I - um. I should go.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah,” she said, but when Dani reached to twist the lock open and pull open the door to march out, Jamie chuckled. “Where do you think you’re off to?”

Dani spun around to give her a confused frown. “To dinner at Judy’s?”

“And you were just gonna walk all the way across town?” When Dani merely blinked at her, Jamie laughed and began shoving her feet into her boots. “Haven’t you heard? There’s boogeymen about these parts. Can’t risk letting you get snatched on the street.” Just as she stepped out the door, she turned to shout back into the house. “Be back in a minute, don’t burn the house down.”

“No promises!” Dani heard Mikey call back immediately, like it was a thing they said often. 

Dani grinned at the fond roll of Jamie’s eyes as she locked the front door, and the wide gesture towards her green truck, as if motioning towards a carriage and horse. “After you,” Jamie said.

The drive back was quiet save for the radio playing low on some rock station. Feeling brazen again, Dani turned the dial towards the same station Carson had set in her own car. 

“No one said you could touch that,” Jamie said, mirth in her voice. Dani merely hummed in response with a satisfied impish grin, leaning back in her seat. 

When Jamie finally pulled up to Dani’s childhood home, she set the truck in park and offered Dani a grin. “Well, thanks for lunch.”

“Thanks for tea.”

Jamie grinned. “Next Sunday, then?”

Just as Dani began to nod, the door to the car parked in front of the O’Mara’s house swung open, and out stepped Eddie, as though he’d been waiting the entire time for Dani to return. Her stomach sank, heavy like lead. Even from this distance, Dani could see a puzzled frown shadow his face as he caught sight of Jamie’s truck. 

Jamie exhaled slowly. “Best get on with it then, right? Say my hellos.”

“Sure,” Dani said distantly. 

Pausing for a moment, Jamie snorted. “Think he’s still angry I accidentally set his homework on fire that one time?”

Dani laughed at the memory, and shook her head. “We’re not in high school anymore. I think he got over that years ago.”

The look Jamie gave her was dubious. “I’m putting my life in your hands here,” she said, but when Dani ignored her plight, stepping out of the truck and taking a deep breath, she heard Jamie mutter, “Christ, here we go.”

Eddie’s eyes lit up when he caught sight of her, stepping forward to pull her in a hug but stopped short when he spotted who followed Dani out of the truck, his eyes wide. “Jamie,” he said, blinking, and chuckled breathlessly. “Wow. It’s been a while.”

As Jamie stepped towards them, Eddie held his hand out. Jamie shook it just once before returning hers to her side as Dani felt Eddie’s arm wrap around her waist to gently pull her in close. 

“Ed,” Jamie said, wearing that same placid smile she wore for Judy at the bistro. Eddie pulled Dani a little closer, his mouth tightening. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Mom and Carson mentioned you were back in town. Dad even said he caught you down at the hardware store the other day. Seems like you’ve caught up with just about everyone now.”

Jamie hummed with an affirmative nod. “All but Tweedledum and Tweedledee.”

At Jamie’s old nickname for the elder O’Mara twins, Dani bit back a snort. Even Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, they live out of town. Got families of their own now,” he explained, and fell silent, seemingly not knowing what else to say. 

“Good to hear,” Jamie said in the ensuing silence, her eyes darting between Dani and Eddie, still wearing that same smile until it morphed into something unfamiliar. “And looks like congratulations are in order for you lot also. Well done.”

Dani’s stomach clenched anxiously, hands slowly balling into fists by her side as Eddie’s smile brightened, pulling her in closer by the waist. “Thanks. We appreciate that,” he said. 

Jamie smirked. “Well, look at you both. North Liberty’s very own royal couple.”

Eddie chuckled, but Dani stiffened. She didn’t know how to respond to that, not with the way Jamie carefully eyed her, her gaze piercing. Dani decided to ignore it, to let her mouth pull into a small smile that strained her cheeks. “Jamie and I were just catching up over tea and lunch,” she explained to Eddie. 

“Sounds nice,” Eddie said, “How’re things going for you now that you’re back?”

Jamie shrugged. “Nothing to complain at home about,” she said, “Got my job at the gardens, Mikey’s top of his class, and I’ve been officially offered an open invitation to dinner at your mum's whenever I find the time.”

Eddie blinked, his voice faintly strained when he said, “Oh, uh. You’re coming to dinner today?”

“Not today, I’m afraid,” Jamie said, and shot Dani a grin, “Promised the kid pizza tonight.”

“Well,” Eddie cleared his throat, gesturing towards Jamie with a polite smile. “We should let you get to it, then. Right, sweetheart?”

Hearing the term of endearment felt like being underwater, the words muffled and deformed in her ears. Her smile was just a second delayed, pulled taut as she glanced up at Eddie. “Right,” she said, exhaling slowly as she returned her gaze to Jamie, immediately catching her eyes. 

Nodding, Jamie’s mouth pulled into a thin smile, the breeze whipping her hair and flannel. “Good to see you again,” she said. 

“You too,” Eddie replied.

Jamie shot her one last look, smile softened and faint, taking a step back and starting to turn away. Just as Dani began to feel the tug of Eddie’s hand on her waist, she reached her hand out to grab Jamie’s. 

“Hey,” Dani said, tugging Jamie to a stop who blinked in surprise as their eyes met. Dani opened her mouth to speak, but for what felt like an eternity nothing came out, until finally Dani said, “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

The warm affection that bloomed in Jamie’s eyes nearly knocked Dani off her feet. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jamie murmured, squeezing her hand just once before easing it out of Dani’s with an easy grin, taking another step back, the wind ruffling her hair, and the golden light of the evening sun glowing on her skin as she turned away.