#and now my husband lewis is moving there??? ooh it's over for me

[introspectivememories]

yeah unfortunately i am afab, assigned ferrari at birth

[asmileyoucouldbottle]

Happily Ever After

I wrote a little JestxCath fluff for @lex656565 ‘s birthday! It’s a little late, but I hope you enjoy! I’m sorry I wasn’t able to celebrate with you in person, but I love you and we’ll be together soon <3 (Btw everyone go check out her blog, her art is amazing!)  Happily Ever After- An impossible AU where Cath has her dream bakery in Hearts and is happily married to Jest. It’s their son’s 4th birthday, so they have a little celebration! Basically straight-up fluff and me pretending the ending of Heartless never happened.

Word Count- 1,468

Ding, ding, ding. 

The bakery’s bell had been going off almost incessantly, and the bakery was full to bursting. Cath smiled proudly at her bustling shop. There were children laughing and eating cookies, couples picking out wedding cakes, and people just enjoying themselves. It was more than she’d ever imagined and wished for.

She jumped a bit as arms wrapped around her waist unexpectedly. Looking up, she smiled into the glowing face of her husband. His eyes twinkled as she spun around to give him a quick kiss. “How’s Hatta?” She asked, since he’d just returned from visiting their friend.

“Sane as ever, not for lack of worrying on his part. In fact…” He was cut off by another ding of the bell. 

“Hatta!” Cath came out from behind the counter, going to give him a quick embrace. “I didn’t think you could make it!”

He shrugged, “I had business to do, but it could wait. Now! Where is my godson?”

“Uncle Hatta!!!” Lewis burst from behind the counter, running to hug his godfather’s leg. Hatta, never really good at displaying affection, just managed to pat Lewis’ head, though his expression was fond.

Jest reached forward and picked his son up, swinging him onto his shoulders. Lewis hooted, and Jest laughed, hopping up to sit on the counter. Cath tsked him, though she knew it was no use. He always sat on the counter, despite her protests. Besides, it was Lewis’ birthday, so she was opposed to a little craziness. Bending the rules once in a while never hurt anybody. 

Raven cawed and came to settle on the young boy’s head. The three of them looked all together ridiculous, and Cath told them just that.

Jest grinned at her, and held out a hand. “Join us, fair lady!” Sighing in overexaggerated bother, she grasped his hand and walked over. He pulled her up beside him, and Cath cast the glass counter beneath her with an anxious glance. Jest wrapped an arm around her waist, and she decided that the counter was insignificant. 

“Mama look!” Cath looked up to see her son waving his arms around. She wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, but she clapped nonetheless. “Please be careful!” 

Hatta frowned, obviously disappointed in the lot of them. The group was getting many curious looks, but the regulars were used to such behavior. Mary Anne had been appalled when she had co-owned the shop, but she’d since left to work managing the sums of the King. Cath couldn’t say she missed her. 

Lewis had proceeded to wave at every single customer, and they all commented on how darling he was. Taking advantage of her distaction, Jest tickled Cath’s side, and she shrieked, batting at his hands. Hopping off the counter, she whacked him lightly with a pamphlet she picked up. He pulled off his hat, and held it in front of her. A bouquet of flowers materialized over the hem. “Forgive me?” He pleaded, not sounding very sorry. 

“Not to break up this lover’s quarrel, but I’m growing impatient. Let’s go in the back.” Hatta’s words dripped with disdain. Jest waved him away, but got to his feet. 

“To the party!” Lewis called. Cath shhed him. “It’s not a party,” she corrected.

“To the cake!” He amended. Jest chuckled, and the group went behind the counter and through the swinging doors to the back. Cath had asked two of their employees, Alfred and Alice, to mind the counter for the day. Either way, It was almost six o’clock, and the two would be closing up shop soon. Cath had forgiven Jest, and walked with his arm around her waist, his flowers in hand. 

In the back, they took the stairs up to their apartment above the shop. Cath had dinner all ready for them, and off to the side a little lemon cake was set up, and balloons for Lewis’s fourth birthday. 

The boy squealed and tried to eat it immediately, but Cath held him back. “Dinner first!”

The group ate in a rather quick manner, as Lewis had eyes only for the cake. The conversation was about Hatta’s recent sales, Lewis and Jest’s adventures in baking, and so on. The conversation only continued a short time after they’d all finished their meal. Lewis soon got antsy, and began to reach for the cake.

“Okay okay, we’ll get ready.” Jest pushed his hand away, laughing slightly. He began to cut the cake, but Cath interrupted him.

“We have to sing first!” she chastised. And so they did. Well, Cath and Jest sang. Even Raven sang, since the lyrics rhymed. Hatta did not, not that anyone expected him to. 

Jest sat with his son on his lap, and Cath couldn’t help but smile at the picture. Both of her boys, with curly hair, lemon eyes, and frosting on their face. She kissed both of their cheeks. Jest brushed her cheek with his thumb. “You had some flour on your face.” He said devilishly, before leaning forward to peck the spot. Lewis was too busy stuffing his face to notice. 

“Oh can’t it wait until I’m home.” Hatta moped. “Anyways, I have a gift for you Lewis!” 

Lewis perked up. “Presents!” He cheered. Hatta reached behind him, and materialised a yellow hat with what appeared to be a mini lemon tree growing a top it. Cath and Jest shared a knowing look and smile. “I’ve heard from your father that you quite like sweet lemon candies, so I thought I’d make you a hat. Now whenever you want a sweet lemon, just reach up and take one. They grow back by themselves.” 

Awestruck, Lewis took the hat. “Thank you Uncle Hatta.” He said, reverently placing it on his head. Hatta smiled, his violet eyes warm. 

“Alright, I’m next.” Jest took his hat off of his head, dramatically, twirled it up and down his arms, flicked it into the air, and caught it. Lewis ooh-ed, ahh-ed, and giggled. 

Turning the hat out invitingly, Jest told his son to close his eyes and reach into the hat. He did so, and pulled out a  deck of magic cards. “It’s time I taught you sleight of hand.” Jest declared. Lewis didn’t hear him, too entranced by the moving pictures on the cards.

“Hey! Isn’t that Mr. Mockturtle?” Lewis asked. Jest nodded. “The cards have little images of all our neighbors and friends.”

“Oooh!!” Lewis bounced up and down, eating a sweet lemon and looking at all the cards. 

Cath was up. Reaching down, she pulled up a holed box and handed it to her son. He opened it, and shrieked with joy. Inside was a little purple and pink kitten. Cheshire refused to ever reveal the details of how he’d come about to have three kittens, but said that Cath was more than welcome to take her pick since he was a “free spirit��� and didn’t want to be “burdened with three kittens.”

“Kitty!!!” Lewis squealed, picking it up and hugging it none too gently. Jest carefully loosened his arms and took the cat, cradling it safely.

Raven gave Lewis his gift, “of poetry.” It didn’t go over very well. Lewis gave Raven a blank stare, before yawning. Jest picked him up so Lewis’ chin rested on his shoulder. “Off to bed with you.” He declared. Cath picked up the cat.

“Say goodbye to Hatta.” Jest said as they passed him by. Lewis waved tiredly. 

“Goodnight, dear boy. I’d best be going as well.” Hatta made sure his own cake themed hat was secure on his head. Cath patted his shoulder. “Thank you for your generous gift, and for coming tonight. It was a pleasure to see you.”

Hatta gave her a half-smile, one that left her wondering if he ever liked her or not. “Thank you for the cake and for having me. Send Jest my regards.”

Hatta left, and Cath followed Jest up the stairs with the cat in her hands. Jest was tucking Lewis in bed, and Cath put the little purring hairball next to him. “Until we get a cat bed, he can sleep with you.”

“Kitty..” Lewis yawned, and snuggled with the kitten. It wiggled out of his arms with a squeak. The boy was only momentarily sad, before the kitten turned and settled in a cozy little bundle against his stomach.

“Goodnihgtmomyanddad-” he broke off, sound asleep and smiling. 

Cath rested her head on Jest’s shoulder as they watched their child. Finally, she leaned down to tuck him in and kiss him goodnight. When she stood up, Jest brushed back her hair and kissed her as well. 

“Not only children deserve a goodnight kiss.” He stated, yellow eyes shining. Smiling, she pressed her lips against his again, before starting towards their room to get ready for sleep. 

[medea10]

Medea’s Top 10 Worst Fathers in Anime

[providentially-demonic]

Miraculous Mystery Skulls: Chapter Six

First Arc: a Spellcaster, a Ghost and a Mechanic walk into a bar Paris

Summary: On their honeymoon in Paris, the City of Lights, the trio of Vivi, Lewis and Arthur encounter more than sightseeing… in the form of monsters, supervillains and a pair of teen superheroes. Sometimes, miraculous things can happen, when you least expect it.

(A Mystery Skulls/Miraculous Ladybug crossover event)

A/N: This all started with this fic by @phantoms-lair and the silly idea of them running into Chat Noir and Ladybug while there. It grew…

It’s a tale of heroes, miraculous, found family and more (with a healthy dose of puns). Co-created and written with assistance from @phantoms-lair, so she deserves some of the credit and a lot of the blame! :P

Back to Chapter Five

Chapter Six: Lost, Found and Other Descriptors

Arthur was indeed a little groggy when his alarm went off in the morning, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the broken sleep, the meds, or a combo of both. Vivi was still asleep against his side as he reached out to shut off his phone, but someone was awake and watching him with bright blue eyes. He started badly before he remembered. “Zippi.” he said flatly.

The Kwami stretched out and leapt off the headboard and into the air. “Morning, morning! Are you hungry? I’m starving! I haven’t eaten since the fall of Rome!” He seemed pleased by his own joke, rolling in the air with laughter.

Arthur carefully sat up, trying not to wake Vivi. “Hilarious. What do Kwami eat anyway? You look like I should find you a nice tree full of nuts.”

Zippi made a disgusted face, tongue sticking out. “Ew.”

Arthur sighed and looked down at his sleeping wife. “I should probably order some breakfast anyway before sleeping beauty here wakes up.”

“Ooh, breakfast! Wheat pancakes? Dates and Honey? Garum? Please tell me there's garum!"

“I have no idea if they have any of that on the room service menu. Also I have no idea what the hell garum is.” Taking a deep breath, Arthur began the task of linking his prosthetic to the port in his shoulder.

Zippi watched with wide eyes, but continued his plaint. “How can you not know what garum is? It’s yummy! We used it on everything.”

“Easily. I have never even heard of it, thanks. Now quiet down before you wake Vivi up.” Arthur hissed as the first of the connectors clicked into place.

“Too late.” A bleary blue eye regarded him from where her face was smashed into the pillows. “Please tell me you haven’t been up long.”

Arthur turned enough to offer her a half-smile. “Only a few minutes, Vi, promise.”

She squinted at him before rolling over to sprawl on her back. “You set an alarm, didn’t you? You coulda slept in. This is our honeymoon. We don’t have to adult until we get back to Tempo.” she tapped a finger on the locket. “Hey, Lew, wake up and convince our husband he doesn’t have to be a workaholic on vacation!”

Purple haze leaked out of the locket and Lewis materialized beside the bed. “What makes you think he’ll listen to me?”

Zippi darted forward to look in Lewis’s spectral eyes. “Fantomă!”

“Talking mouse!” Lewis backed up fast.

Vivi rolled her eyes. “Lewis, honey, you have been a weirder thing than a Kwami. Lew, meet Zippi. He wants to buddy with Artie. Zippi, this is Lewis, our husband. Yes, he’s a ghost, but most of the time we don’t hold that against him.”

"I said I was sorry for making the van a mini dekotora." Lewis retorted.

“Not forgiven.” Arthur and Vivi replied in the same breath.

Zippi peered at Lewis, head cocked to one side. “You don’t feel like most of the unquiet dead.”

Lewis paused, confusion causing his human facade to flicker. “How?”

“Most of them are... lost.” Zippi darted forward and tapped the side of Lewis's head. "Inside. You aren't. You are very... anchored. Very part of the here and now. I like you!"

"Um... thanks?"

Zippi turned in midair and darted back to Arthur, who flinched away from the sudden movement. "More importantly, he likes you."

"Ah—?" Lewis's bafflement was plain.

"If he's going to be my bearer, he needs a strong foundation. You are part of that. So is she. His feelings for you make him strong." Zippi circled the three of them. "Not everyone is as stable as the three of you make each other."

"What if I'm not your bearer?" Arthur questioned with a grimace as he locked the arm into place.

"You are." Zippi's reply was assured.

"You only just met me last night."

"Doesn't matter. I know you are meant to be my bearer." Zippi tried to land on Arthur's right shoulder and looked a little confused and hurt when Arthur shied away.

"I still think you got the wrong guy."

Vivi sighed heavily. “Arthur...”

Arthur didn’t look at her. “What? Vi, he’s known me for all of what, an hour, awake? How does he— or any of you— know there’s not a better choice out there for him?”

Lewis might not have known everything that happened last night but he recognized this mood. He came around the bed and unceremoniously toppled Arthur back into the pile of blankets and pillows. Vivi immediately rolled over and latched onto him with all four limbs. Lewis settled down behind him and tucked Arthur into the curve of his body before he could struggle. “Snuggle attack!” Vivi declared.

Arthur carefully put his real hand under her chin and shoved her back. “Vi, knock it off!”

“Nope!” She ducked away from his hand with a cheery grin. “You know better than to go down this road. It’s not allowed. Not ever again.”

Lewis sighed into his hair. “Arthur...”

Arthur’s shoulders tightened.

“You’re doing it again. It’s not now and never was your fault.”

Vivi repeated the mantra softly, a breath after Lewis. She caught Arthur’s chin and made him meet her eyes. “Look at Zippi. He only just met you and he can already tell you’re a good person. Good enough to be his bearer.”

Arthur’s sigh was thin, a whisper of defeat. But he relaxed into their hold. "I love you two, you know that, right?" His voice was soft.

Vivi leaned in for a kiss. "Of course we do. It's why you said yes when we asked you to marry us."

Lewis said nothing, only pressing a loving kiss against Arthur's temple. They remained that way for a while, simply soaking in each other's presences. Allowing them all time to ground themselves in the touch and smell and sight of those they loved... more than life itself.

Zippi hovered close, obviously wanting to join them, but hesitant. The rejection still stung.

After a time, Vivi rose. She paused briefly to stroke Zippi’s head. “Give him time,” she whispered before turning to her husbands and declaring, “Well, I’m all kinds of starved. Lets get some breakfast and head back to the museum!”

Lewis looked up. “But—”

Vivi cocked her head toward Zippi. “We need to research something we picked up there, Lew,”

“Ah.” Lewis rose and tugged Arthur to his feet. “Well, unless you want more pastries, I think breakfast will have to come from the room service menu. Breakfast isn’t a big deal over here. Mostly it’s coffee and toast or a pastry.”

Vivi laid her hand across her forehead. “Blasphemy! How am I expected to function without my breakfast? I’ll wither away!”

“Yeah!” Zippi enthused. “I still want some garum!”

“What the hell is garum anyway?” Arthur grumbled.

“It— it’s a fermented fish sauce,” Lewis said, obviously choosing his words with care. “It was a major thing in Roman times.”

Arthur perked up a little. “Huh. Wonder how it would taste on Surf’s Up Surprise?”

“Arthur— no.”

“You just have no taste, Vi.”

~~~~

After breakfast, they took a bus back to the museum. Zippi hid in Vivi’s handbag, distracted by a handful of goldfish crackers, though he had complained that they had no actual fish in them.

“I don’t know what you’re hoping to find.” Lewis murmured as they worked their way back through the building to the same area the battle had been in. “I mean, he did say his miraculous had been hidden for a long time, right?”

Arthur shrugged. “Something, Lew. I don’t know. At this point anything is more than what we know now.”

Vivi was chewing on her lower lip, a sign she was deep in thought. Lewis reached over and tugged a lock of her hair, making a soft questioning noise.

She glanced up at him. Her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Okay, so near as I figure, the miraculous must have been in the case that Artie got smashed into, and must have fallen into his jacket. I don’t know why Ladybug’s miraculous cure didn’t put it back, though.”

“I know this one!” Zippi’s voice came from her bag. “Her cure only works on a miraculous that’s damaged. Mine wasn’t. And it was already where it belonged, with my new bearer.”

A muscle jumped in Arthur’s jaw, but he said nothing. His hand briefly went down to touch the pocket he had stowed the miraculous in. It could stay there for now. He still had his reservations about accepting Zippi’s claim that he was meant to hold it.

Vivi pointed past a group of museum patrons. “That’s the case.” Her voice was still very low. “And that brings up my second point. Have they noticed it’s missing?”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Lewis offered. “I mean, wouldn’t they have blocked off the area or something if they had?”

Vivi scanned the people around them silently. Nothing seemed any different from when they had been here yesterday, groups quietly talking as they looked at the displays, but no sign anything out of the ordinary had happened here.

They moved toward the case, Arthur pretending interest in the brochure he had picked up at the entrance, and Vivi leaning around Lewis to point at something on the page. At the case, Lewis bent to read the placard, his voice soft and conversational. “Examples of pottery and jewelry found in a buried shrine of the goddess Hekate, the roman goddess of magic and crossroads, at what was one time the juncture of two major trade routes. The shrine was discovered, relatively intact and untouched, in 1975 by a group of graduate students, after having been buried in a pyroclastic mudflow sometime in 280 AD. These items are believed to have been left as offerings to the goddess for safe travels.”

Zippi made a soft sound. “He thought it would be safe there. That the Goddess would protect it.”

Vivi, patted her bag. “In a way, he was right. The shrine would have been robbed in later centuries if it hadn’t been buried.”

“Oh...”

Arthur peered more closely at the other items in the display.  There was a small gap that looked like it might have been where the miraculous had been, but it was barely noticeable. Had the magic made it so the missing piece would go unnoticed?

Vivi had obviously noticed it too, but said nothing. Best if it remained unnoticed by the museum staff. “Let’s go see the Egyptian display next.” She made sure to pitch her voice at conversational levels, just in case.

She tucked her hand in the crook of Lewis’s elbow and Lewis rested his other hand in the small of Arthur’s back, steering them through the crowd toward the Egyptian Hall. When they got there, though a majority of the display was open to the public, there was a small area roped off where several workmen were placing things under the direction of a young man in a tweedy coat. They were not the only ones to stop and peer at the set-up in curiosity. A small group had gathered near the roped-off section. “ — heard the mayor donated the new pieces from his personal collection. Kubdel is happy as a clam, being that most of the donated pieces are from his favorite era.” A woman in a bright turquoise pants-suit explained, gesturing expansively at the group of workers.

“Kubdel? Didn't he get Akumatized over that? I’m surprised the museum let him anywhere near the new pieces.” Her companion looked a little aghast.

“Oh, don’t worry. As long as he’s happy, nothing like that will happen again. Ladybug said in an interview that Hawkmoth is only drawn to strong negative emotions, so as long as he’s kept happy, there's nothing to worry about.”

“Not sure my concern over you getting hurt would really be considered a negative emotion, but he certainly thought it was good enough.” Arthur said softly to Lewis, leaning into his side a little. “Ugh, I can still feel his nasty voice in my head.”

Vivi peered around Lewis with a loving grin. “But you kicked him out of your head.”

“I tried, at least.” Arthur managed a wry smile for her. “It helped that we had some help that night though.”

Lewis chuckled. “Pretty sure you gave Hawkmoth a ringing headache with the fight you put up, even before we got that Akuma out of you.”

“He deserves more than that.” Arthur muttered, clenching his fist. “Way more.”

“And he’ll get it, Arthur.” Vivi captured his hand and held it, caging Lewis between their outstretched arms. “We’re going to make sure of it.”

“Right.” Arthur sighed.

“Good. Now, unless there’s something else we want to see here, I still want to get some pictures to send back to the Pepper’s and Lance. Then maybe lunch? Lewis, you said you found a cafe that looked good?”

~~~~

They had arranged to meet the kids in the park where they had met up the first time. Arthur had sprawled under the shade of one of the trees and was dozing, still a little foggy from lack of sleep and medications. Zippi had abandoned Vivi’s purse to tuck himself in the collar of Arthur’s jacket. Lewis sat on a bench near where Arthur drowsed, Vivi in his lap, holding a book that they were both reading from.

Marinette was the first to arrive, her backpack slung over one shoulder as she trotted up. “Adrien will be here soon. He had fencing practice first.”

She didn’t get to say more because with a happy squeal, Tikki launched herself from Marinette’s purse. “Zikikii!!”

The noise woke Arthur, who jerked upright, looking around wildly.

Zippi left Arthur’s jacket to meet her halfway and the two Kwami tumbled over and over in the air, laughing happily and babbling at each other in something that wasn’t English or French.

“Oh, Tikki—!” Marinette covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

Vivi snorted and held open her shopping bag. “You two are lucky that we’re alone here, but to be on the safe side, why don’t you get out of sight?”

Tikki made a small sound and dived into the bag, followed quickly by Zippi.

Marinette laughed and dug out a small box of cookies from her purse, handing it down to the kwami in the large paper bag. “Here, some treats to share.”

“What is with nothing having fish anymore?” Zippi complained.

~~~~

It was a good twenty minutes more before Adrien came trotting up, slightly out of breath. “Sorry. Practice ran long.” He looked curiously at the bag on the grass, rustling slightly. His gaze turned to Marinette. "Oh, by the way, what on earth did you tell Alya? She’s been either giving me a death glare or typing furiously on her phone. I think she’s plotting my death. Possibly with Nino.”

Marinette flushed slightly. “Oh— um, I may have had to tell her our cover story.”

“I get the feeling that’s not all you told her. I think I’m bleeding from all the pointed glares I was getting.” Adrien looked mournful.

Tikki peeked her head out of the bag and giggled. "She may be looking for your supposed replacement."

Adrien went wide-eyed. "Replacement? What?"

Marinette blushed and frantically shooshed Tikki. But she wasn't proof against Adrien's woebegone kitten look. "Well, I-I knew Alya wouldn't buy into me n-not like-liking you anymore when she's been there since day one. So I—" She buried her face in her hands and rushed all the words out at once. "IkindatoldherthatImetsomeoneelse!"

“What?!”

“I had to give her something more! She doesn’t give up easily, you know!” Marinette hunched her shoulders up around her ears.

“Wait? Who? I mean—” Adrien flailed helplessly for a moment. “Who—?” He blinked for a moment and bit his bottom lip. “Is it someone I know?”

“It is you, you idiot!” Marinette exploded and then covered her mouth. “I— I’m sorry. I— it’s not anyone else. I just—” Her cheeks flamed red and she ducked her head. “I pretended that I met someone else, someone who— who kept getting rejected by someone he loved. Sound familiar, kitty?”

Adrien looked perplexed. Plagg groaned from his pocket. “Seriously, cheese is easier. No asking if it likes you back. She’s talking about you, kid.”

“I— I hinted at her that I liked Chat Noir, just to give her something else to focus on.” Marinette covered her face with both hands.

“Wait, so you told Alya you’re not with me... and then told her you’re with Chat Noir.”

“God, were we ever that young?” Lewis muttered into Vivi’s hair with a laugh.

“No,” Vivi chuckled back. “But we were that stupid in love.”

Arthur, who had joined them on the bench, covered his eyes with his hand. “Even dumber. I was there to see it all.”

“You shush,” Vivi leaned over to kiss him. “You were just as dumb, just all stoic about it.”

Adrien grinned brightly. It was the same wide grin he gave her as Chat when he loved one of her plans. "That's brilliant, Ladylove!" He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"It is?" Marinette was taken aback. She was expecting him to be upset.

"Not only is Alya distracted from being mad at me, it means I get to be all affectionate with you if I'm in costume and you're not. I really like that." He leaned close, his eyes sparkling with mischief and his grin entirely that of his feline counterpart.

Marinette eeped softly, rose dusting her cheeks, but couldn’t seem to look away.

Zippi stuck his head up, popping the moment like a soap bubble. "Are we done here? Can we go now? It's been so long since I've seen Pollen and Fluff and Sass and—”

"We get it, Zippi, thanks," Plagg groaned from Adrien’s pocket.

"It's not too far from here," Tikki assured. "Come on, you two, you can cuddle while we tell Master Fu what happened." She giggled before ducking back out of sight, pulling Zippi down with her. Vivi rose and picked up the bag and it’s magical occupants.

Marinette and Adrien both turned red, but didn't say another word. They walked next to each other the whole way, their arms reaching to almost grab the other's hand before dropping back to their side.

"At least Mystery’s not here to tease us about history repeating itself," Lewis muttered.

Arthur chuckled, hands firmly entwined with both of theirs.

When they reached the correct arrondissement, Marinette rapped softly on the heavy wooden door.

There was the sound of a bolt sliding back and then Fu opened the door, eyes wary. He relaxed a little when he saw them and stepped aside to let the group in. He looked less defeated than yesterday, but he still moved like he had aged a hundred years in the span of a day.

He re-locked the door behind them and motioned to the table, laden with a teapot and mismatched cups. “Wayzz has told me something about the Lost Miraculous since your call this morning. I was unaware that there were more than I personally knew of.” He seated himself carefully on a cushion. “So, please, tell me what occurred.”

“Talk later! I want to see everyone!” Zippi burst out of the bag and whirled around Arthur’s head. “It’s been so long!”

Wayzz floated up beside Fu. “A little respect, plea—”

He was bowled out of the air by a brown bullet of excited Kwami. “Wayzz, you old hardshell! It’s been waayyyyy too long!”

Wayzz’s eyes widened and he righted himself, reaching out to grip Zippi’s arms. “Zippi?!”

“Hi-hi-hi!” Zippi crowed gleefully before Tikki darted over to join in the excitement. “I missed everyone!”

“Why didn’t you try to contact us sooner? The guardians would have found you and brought you home!”

“The lazy rat was sleeping,” Plagg grumped.

“Master?” Wayzz looked hopefully at Fu, still clinging tightly to Zippi.

Fu sighed. “You may go.”

With twin squeals of excitement, Tikki and Wayzz darted toward the miraculous box, pulling a gleeful Zippi along. “Plagg?" Tikki called back.

“Eh, you guys go ahead. I’ll keep watch out here in case something bad happens while you’re in there. Tell the others I said hi, though.” Plagg settled on the table. "Hey, Master Fu, you got any cheese?"

Tikki darted over to plow into him in a hug. “You can grump all you want, but you’re sweet, Stinky.”

Plagg shoved at her, but gently. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Sugar Cube. Just go so we don’t have to hear all the noise anymore.”

Laughing, she booped his nose and darted back to the box, vanishing inside with Wayzz and Zippi.

“So, shall we start at the beginning...” Fu invited. “I think we need to get the whole story, all of us.”

“It’s gonna be a long story, then, because it goes back before there was even a guardian order—” Plagg began.

~~~~

Fu stared at the round brooch, gleaming softly in the light, the jewel a rich umber brown. Arthur had pulled it out of his pocket, and set it on the table, sliding it towards Fu as he finished. “Near as we can tell, it was in the case Grand Master threw me into and it must have fallen into my pocket. It looked different when I first pulled it out of my pocket, though. Had white and black stripes on it.” He continued with what they had read on the placard in the display.

"Disguise magic. The same way the kid's ring is silver and pigtail's earrings are black when they aren't transformed." Plagg explained, munching on a slice of cheddar. "When we're inside the miraculous, whether it's to transform our bearers or when we don't have a bearer, it looks different."

Fu’s eyes never left the gem, though he made no move to pick it up. He swallowed thickly. “It is rare that a Kwami strikes upon the correct bearer. Rarer still for it to have come in such a number of coincidences like this.”

Marinette bit her lip, leaning into Adrien, his arm resting around her shoulders. “We thought it might have been some of Tikki’s magic affecting the outcome. Her luck magic...”

Fu hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps. That part of her magic is unquantifiable. Luck is a fickle thing.”

“And how do you think he chanced on the right bearer this time?” Arthur asked, his voice more than a little high-pitched. “I mean, didn’t you guys test for traits in the candidates?”

"The Order did. We had many tests designed to weed out those not meant to hold a miraculous. But they would do no good in this case. You— while I do not recall most of what occurred at the museum, I have had your descriptions and the footage from the Ladyblog. You have more than proven yourself worthy. Zikikii has made his choice and it is one I cannot deny him." Fu said solemnly, using one finger to push the brooch back toward Arthur.

Arthur made no move to take it, actually leaning back a little, like it was a poisonous spider or something equally unsavory. "But how can you be sure he's made the right choice?" His tone was almost desperate.

"While we chose candidates for the miraculous, it was rare, but always heeded when a Kwami made their own choice of bearer. It only happened once that I personally know of but there were records of it happening before. I read some of them during my training." Fu answered, tipping his head to regard Arthur, His eyes showed confusion and something else undefinable. "You—"

"I'm pretty sure he just latched onto me because I was the first person who touched his miraculous."

"No." Fu shook his head. "I admit to being— a bit lost. There is much about this situation I don't know, but this I know.”

“Wisdom is knowing how much you don’t know,” Vivi put in.

Fu looked up and chuckled softly, if a little weakly, “That sounds like something I might say.”

Vivi only smiled.

“When a Kwami has made their choice, there is no naysaying it.” Fu continued softly, “That was one inarguable rule passed down from the masters of the Order. At this point, Marinette, I could no more take Tikki away from you than break her miraculous with my bare hands. Or Plagg from you, Adrien. They have made their choices, as has Zikikii.”

“But—” Arthur protested. “I know you think I’m worthy, but I’m really not. I can’t wield that kind of power. You don’t even know me and you want to trust me with him?!”

“You— you do not want the power he offers?”

“No!” Arthur shook his head. “I— I shouldn’t be trusted with it.”

“Arthur!” Vivi’s tone was sharp enough to cut glass.

Arthur flinched, his shoulders coming up around his ears. "Vivi..."

Vivi moved from her cushion to slip her arm around Arthur's waist. He shivered before leaning into her.

"I can't, Vi. He des—"

Vivi put a fingertip over his lips. "I will be very cross with you if you finish that sentence.”

“So will I,” Lewis added. “You stopped needing to apologize for yourself two years ago. Don’t start again. You are strong enough and selfless enough to do this.”

Arthur sighed. “I don’t trust me.”

“We do, and Zippi does.” Vivi poked him. “Give us a little credit for good sense.”

“We do too,” Adrien put in. “You didn’t have to try and save Alya and I at the museum. You didn’t have to keep the Akuma distracted when you were wounded, but you did anyway. Isn’t that a good measure of yourself?”

"Out of the mouths of babes—" Lewis grinned at Adrien and poked his husband gently. "Listen to the kid."

Arthur scowled, but stopped leaning away from the miraculous like it might bite him. "I really don't think I'm cut out for this. I'm a lot of things; a superhero is not one of them, though."

"You're already a hero, why not add the super part to it?" Vivi chided.

"Viviiiii—"

"There are all kinds of different heroes," Marinette's look was thoughtful and she held tight to Adrien's hand. "Mama always said that heroes came in all shapes and sizes. It might be something as small as feeding a stray mama cat so she can feed her babies or as big as saving Paris. A hero isn't who you are, it's what you do."

Arthur looked at her strangely. “You don’t know me. You wouldn’t call m—”

A finger across his lips silenced him. “Nope.”

Vivi was smiling at him, her eyes soft. “You were always our hero. After all, Lewis is hopeless at keeping the van running.” She continued, her voice taking on a teasing lilt.

That seemed to break through to him and he huffed a breathy laugh. “So that’s why you married me, eh?”

“One of them,” she teased back. “Now stop fighting us on this, you’re outnumbered and outvoted.” She waved her hand at the room at large. “Six to one.”

Arthur made a show of looking around. “Your math skills suck, Vi.” He pointed at the black Kwami drowsing in the remains of  his cheese feast. “Plagg wasn’t voting.”

She reached out and pressed the miraculous that had been on the table into his hand. “I wasn’t talking about him, silly.”

Arthur sighed and looked down at the brooch. He didn’t say anything, but let her close his fingers around it.

Adrien glanced at his watch and frowned. “I hate to say it, but I have to leave. If I’m not back at the park for Gorilla to pick me up for the photoshoot, I’ll never hear the end of it from Father.” He poked his Kwami. “Wake up, glutton. You need to go get the others before we go.”

Plagg batted at the poking finger but roused and headed toward the miraculous box. “You owe me for this, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah. So says the one with his own mini-fridge of gourmet cheeses.”

It wasn’t long before the Kwami returned, with Tikki and Wayzz chattering at Plagg and Plagg sniping at Zippi. Tikki broke off and darted to Marinette for a cuddle. She was giggling. "Sass was so shocked! He thought Trixx was playing a trick on us with illusions!"

Wayzz settled on Fu’s shoulder and Plagg returned to his cheese plate for one last bit of brie.

Still hovering by Wayzz, Zippi looked at Arthur, uncertainty clear in his posture.

Arthur took a deep breath and slowly pinned the brooch to his vest, not far from his star pin. “I wouldn’t call me a hero, but we can start by being friends, right?”

Zippi broke and was at Arthur’s side in a heartbeat, tucking himself into the hollow between vest and neck. “Friends. Friends is good.”

Arthur sighed and reached up to scratch the kwami’s head with one fingertip. “Yeah. Friends is a good start.”

Vivi rose to her feet and offered Fu a bow. “We’ll leave you for now, but I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future.” She turned her attention to Adrien. “We’ll walk you back to the park. Marinette, know a good place to pick up a cell phone around here? I want a local number you guys can contact us through, if you need anything. My regular cell phone is really only good for calling home.”

“Oh— um, sure. I know where Alya got her replacement when I dropped her phone the one time. It’s not far from there.” Marinette reluctantly let go of Adrien’s hand. They couldn’t be together as more than friends in public, she reminded herself.

“Excellent.”

The walk back was too quick, but the softly whispered, “See you later tonight, Ladylove,” brought a new spring to her step. There was something to be said for her cover story after all!

~~~~

A little late the next morning, but not as bad as many times before, Marinette rushed into the sciences classroom. She paused in the door, a little surprised not to see Ms. Mendeleiev already in place at the front. It was lab day and she was always early for those. A babble of voices caught her attention and she turned to see most of the class was gathered around Juleka's desk.

Juleka had her tablet out and the Ladyblog pulled up on it. Alya's voice came very clearly from the screen. "—tacking the Akuma with a combination of fire and ice. Who are they?"

She was interrupted by what Marinette knew was Arthur's voice. "Record later! Run now!"

"That was the scene at this morning's Akuma attack." Alya's voice was now in reporter mode. "The Akuma was attacked by two new superheroes before Ladybug and Chat Noir arrived on the scene. Who are Fire and Ice? Are they new miraculous holders?"

Alya, seated on the corner of the desk, pulled a frown. “Unfortunately, I didn’t get much footage of this Akuma battle itself. You won’t hear me say this too often, but that was a real dangerous fight. If that guy hadn’t grabbed me, no telling how badly I would have gotten hurt!”

“I think you got enough!” Rose said, hand pressed over her mouth. “The skeleton guy is scary!”

“But think about it, if these are new miraculous holders, something big could be coming. I want to say I got the first footage of them!”

“Technically, babe, you did.” Nino tousled Alya’s curls. “You got some great shots. You just didn’t get the chance to interview them since they bugged out after the fight and vanished like ghosts.”

“I know!” Alya batted at his hand and grumped sourly at him. “How cool would it have been to have a major scoop like that? The first ever interview with Lady Ice and Skullfire!?”

Adrien looked a little like he'd bitten into a lemon, lips puckered in an effort not to laugh.

Fortunately, Nino did it for him. "Skullfire? Babe, you read too many comics!"

Alya rolled her eyes and elbowed him hard enough to make him wheeze. “We basically live in a comic book, Nino.”

Adrien lost the fight to keep a straight face and guffawed.

Alya looked like she was going to take a piece out of him until everyone else joined in the laughter.

"Nino, whatever you do, don't let her name your kids!" Kim hooted.

Alya flushed almost the same color as Ladybug's suit and Nino wasn't far behind.

“Don't make her too embarrassed, Adrikins, or she might get Akumatized again." Chloe added, without looking up from the nails Sabrina was carefully painting.

“So says the one who is statistically responsible for more Akumatizations than the rest of Paris combined,” Alya retorted, still red but willing to throw down.

“Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Those results are skewed and you know it, Césaire!” Chloe glowered at Alya.

“Actually, the statistics are correct, Chloe,” Max put in, never looking up from the calculator he was tapping away at. “Of fifty-seven known Akumatizations in the past year, thirty-eight of them were a direct result of some action of yours, and another six were indirectly related in some way to you.”

"That many?" Adrien whispered sharply. He knew his first friend wasn't the greatest person but...that was a really large number for anyone short of Hawkmoth himself.

Chloe huffed and turned away. “I’m just too fabulous for most of you plebeians to appreciate properly.”

“Chloe— winning friends and influencing people wherever she goes,” Nino muttered in a low voice to Marinette.

Marinette stifled a giggle.

“Hey, has anyone seen Ms. Mendeleiev?” Adrien asked.”Class should have started ten minutes ago.”

“Shh, dude, you’ll jinx it!” Nino shushed him. “Juleka was watching the footage of the fight and talking about the kind of magic those two new superheroes were using, said it looked more like elemental magic than the magic we’ve seen Ladybug and Chat Noir using. Ms. Mendeleiev got irked with her and started on about magic not being a real, definable thing, even though she’s been affected by it before!” Nino snorted and shrugged his shoulders. “Principal Damocles told her to go chill for a few minutes till she calmed down, y’know?”

Alya rolled her eyes. “What, she thinks it’s super-science or something that lets Hawkmoth take over people? That’s not scepticism, it’s flat-out denial!”

“You know Ms. Mendeleiev. She doesn’t like anything that challenges her understanding of the world,” Adrien tried to soothe.

Alya glared at him, obviously still not having forgiven him.. “Doesn’t mean she has to be dumb about it, Sunshine.”

There was the sound of a scream— abruptly cut off midway— from the school courtyard. Everyone jerked to attention. A scream like that usually only meant one thing.

Alya was already out of her seat, headed for the window and digging in her bag for her phone.

"Oh no, another Akuma!" Rose exclaimed, clinging tightly to Juleka's hand.

Marinette shared a resigned look with Adrien over Nino’s head. She rose to her feet, slapping a hand down on the desk with a loud crack to get everyone's attention. "Akuma Evacuation plan, everyone. The classrooms are too exposed so find someplace sturdy to go to ground. Let's move!" She waved people toward the classroom door.

Alya had her phone out and was filming through the window. "The Akuma looks like some sort of judge, maybe," she reported. "They have a gold scale in one hand and what looks to be a whip in the other."

Marinette hurried the last few students through the door and turned to Adrien, nodding. He slipped away silently. She knew he’d keep the Akuma busy until she could get there. “Alya, that goes for you too! Do you want to get hurt?”

“C’mon, Marinette! I’m not gonna go near the Akuma, but I gotta get some footage, especially if those new heroes show!”

“Alya. I love you but you are way too willing to risk your life for a scoop!” Marinette exclaimed in frustration. “I’m half-tempted to steal your phone so you don’t get close enough to get hurt!”

“I’d just get closer, in that case,” Alya smirked. “I’d have to see everything without the zoom on my phone!”

“Uuuurrrrghh!” Marinette huffed. “Fine, you stay here and stay out of sight, okay? We don’t know what this Akuma can do! I’m going to make sure everyone has gotten somewhere safe. If it even looks like the battle might come this way, you get to safety!”

Ayla offered a two-fingered salute, most of her attention on the Akuma outside. “Chat Noir has appeared on the scene first, No sign of Ladybug or the other unknown superheroes yet...”

Marinette hurried to find a hiding place to transform. Vivi had given her the number of her new cell phone so she shot off a quick text before ducking into the restroom.

A few moments later she was swinging into the courtyard. Chat was doing a good job of keeping the Akuma occupied, while also trying to herd those caught in the courtyard away.

The Akuma wore hooded, long robes, the dark red of drying blood. Under the hood the face was like a porcelain mask, stark white and serene except for the glittering black eyes. In one hand it held a golden scale and in the other, a black cat o'nine tails. The whip flicked out and touched a fleeing girl. She barely managed a gasp before she was transformed into a glowing ball of energy. The hand holding the scale lifted and the former student was sucked into it. One side of the golden scale tipped infinitesimally lower.

The still white face tilted to regard the scale. “Another Believer. Deluded.” Those glittering eyes fastened on Ladybug. “I am Judiciala. I have judged Paris as infested with those who believe in false magic and mysticism. I will cleanse the city of light of this corruption, with each believer I capture. Once this scale is full of captured believers, I will destroy all magic. Starting with yours, Ladybug and Chat Noir. I will add you to my pool of believers and deliver your miraculous to Hawkmoth.”

Chat snorted a laugh, posing with both hands resting on the top of his baton like a cane. “I am a-paw-led by your deliberate blindness. You do realize that our miraculous are magic, right? Hand them over to Hawkmoth and he’ll use the magic in them for his own ends.”

The glowing butterfly mask occluded Judiciala’s face for a moment. “Hawkmoth will cleanse them of their magic taint after his wish. The world will be free of the corruption of belief in magic when there is no more magic.”

Chat laughed again. “I hate to break it to you, but you’re just a cat’s paw for Hawkmoth. He’s duping you!”

The cat o’nine tails flicked out and Ladybug had to yank Chat out of the way. “Careful, kitty!”

He flashed her a quick smile and returned to taunting the Akuma. "It's rather hypocritical of you to judge magic when it's magic that empowers you, you know."

Judiciala's black gaze glittered with rage, and the whip flashed out again. But it wasn't aimed at Chat this time, but at a student desperately trying to take cover beneath a bench. The whip's strands coiled around the cowering boy and he glowed with the same light that had transformed the girl. But after a moment it changed, color shifting to a vibrant yellow. The whip dropped away and the boy stood transformed, a hooded figure like Judiciala standing there. His robes were black, and his serene mask was red. "Logic. You believe only in what you may quantify. You shall be the first of my Scourge, razing the Believers at my command."

"Wow, super cult-like rhetoric there, Judgie-McJudgiepants," a new voice called out over the panicked screams of the students who had not yet escaped the courtyard. "And making disciples and calling them your "Scourge"? Yeah, you reek more of cult than most actual cults we've gone up against."

Chat and Ladybug looked up. Lewis hovered in midair, full skeletal mode, holding Vivi in his arms. It was her mocking voice that had captured Judiciala's attention.

“Do not mock me, foul believer!” Judiciala’s voice scaled up in rage and the strands of the whip lashed around the hem of their robe like infuriated snakes.

“How can I not?” Vivi’s grin was cheerfully malicious. “It’s so easy! I’ve faced a lot of cults, crazy, and you are just like them. Ignoring reality and anything that doesn’t fit your rhetoric!”

While Judiciala's attention was not on them, Ladybug sidled over to Chat Noir. “The Akuma has to be in either the whip or the scale.”

He nodded. “I’d take the whip out of play first. It’s the most dangerous.”

“My thoughts exactly, Kitty. Want to—”

She was interrupted by a shrieked “Banzai!” and could only look on in appalled horror as Lewis let go of Vivi in mid-air. She plummeted down, her bat clenched in both hands and a gleeful look on her face.

Chat reacted faster than she could, his baton propelling him toward the falling woman.

But someone else was faster still. Arthur darted in while Judiciala’s attention was on Vivi and Chat. He brought down a fire extinguisher on the back of the robed figure’s head with a resounding ‘klooonng.’ Judiciala crumpled like wet tissue.

Lewis snatched Vivi out of the air right before Chat could reach her, her gleeful whoop echoing around the courtyard.

Lewis set her on the grass and she flung herself at Arthur. “Brilliantly timed, Artie!”

Arthur held her up, chuckling. “Not too shabby yourself, either of you.”

Chat landed by the unconscious Akuma victim and scooped up the whip. His claws made short work of it, but no corrupted butterfly darted away. He picked up the scale and smashed it against the stone lip of the fountain. Gold light emerged and resolved into several stunned, frightened students. A black butterfly fluttered away from the smashed pieces.

Chat had to clear his throat loudly before Ladybug reacted, flinging her yo-yo out to capture the butterfly. Her voice was faint as she breathed her usual farewell before releasing it to flutter away. Her gaze was fixed on the trio even as she released the swarm of ladybugs that would right everything.

The robes melted away, revealing Ms. Mendeleiev, who stirred weakly. Chat helped her sit up. For the first time since he had started at school, her disagreeable frown was gone, replaced by frightened confusion. Her fingers dug into his arrn hard enough to be felt even through the tough material of the suit. “You’re fine now,” he soothed. “We took care of the Akuma.”

"I— I— don't..."

He gratefully surrendered her to the care of Ms. Bustier and Principal Damocles, who had come rushing out is the building as soon as the fight was over and hurried to Ladybug's side, touching her arm. "Milady?"

She blinked back into focus. "That was—" her voice trailed off.

"The shortest Akuma battle ever!"

Ladybug and Chat both jumped, Chat coming down in a defensive crouch, his baton ending up barely an inch from Alya's gleeful grin.

"Alya!" Ladybug exclaimed, a hand pressed over her chest. "What are you doing here? It isn't safe so close to an Akuma battle!"

"This is my school and—" she pointed in the direction of the wobbly teacher being escorted back into the building. "That is my teacher. But you know I try to make every battle I can, Ladybug. I wouldn't be the Ladyblogger, otherwise! But enough about me. Will you introduce me to your new friends? Are they Miraculous holder's too? Paris wants to know!" She panned her phone's camera over the three before directing it back to Ladybug.

Chat made a small sound and leaned in, resting a claw on the top of her phone and pushing it down. "Ah-uh. It's rude to film them when they haven't consented to anything, much less an interview."

“It’s quite alright, Chat,” Vivi raised a flippant hand. "We're here to help, after all."

"I...would rather you not show their faces. But an audio interview is fine." Lewis, at least, was aware that broadcasting the undisguised faces of his loves could lead the enemy to them all too quickly. If need be he'd have a deadbeat fritz her phone out, but polite measures first. "But all Paris needs to know if we're here to help stop Hawkmoth and give Ladybug and Chat Noir the support they deserve to have."

"Awesome!" Alya cheered. "Like, I can blur their faces in the footage I already got of this battle during editing. So, mark and... Hello, Paris! This is your Ladyblogger, with an exclusive interview with the new heroes that helped take down an Akuma in record time. First, can we get some names to call you by? I've been told my stopgap names were— less than stellar."

Vivi shrugged. "No real names, sorry.  You can call me... Frost." She flipped her hand at Arthur. "The Fixer."

He gave her a flat, unamused look. "Way to sound like a mob movie."

"You prefer Mr. Fixit?" She smiled and gestured to Lewis. "And this is our Inferno."

Even with the limited ability of a skeletal face to show emotion, Lewis's hollow stare conveyed a distinct lack of amusement. "Really?"

"...And we'll get back to that later." Alya quickly said. "Next question, we've seen some pretty amazing things from you. Things both like and unlike Ladybug and Chat Noir's talents. Are you Miraculous holders too?"

"Yes, my miraculous grants me the power of common sense and fire extinguishers." Arthur said dryly, pointing at the discarded fire extinguisher he'd used to brain Judiciala.

"Does is matter?" Vivi added, more than a little cheekily. "We're here to help. And we're going to keep helping till Hawkmoth is in a six by eight where he belongs."

"So you've joined the fight against Hawkmoth, then. Does this mean you have some new information on the villain orchestrating this?" Alya's hazel eyes were glittering with enthusiasm as she leaned in. "I won't ask for specific details, since Hawkmoth could foil them by knowing, but do you have anything you can share safely?"

After a glance at Vivi, Lewis leaned in, allowing the spectral distortion he normally sought to keep under strict control to creep into his voice, imbuing it with a distorted echo and distinctly creepy feel. "Just this.W͜e ̡k͜no̧w͟ wh̨at̴ ̡you've ͝do͠ne͝ and ̵who̧ you͢'v͜e̷ enda̧nge͟r͜e̢d, Hąw҉kmo͏t͞h. ͡W͜e͡ wi͡l͢l̛ b̸e̴ ͟co̴m̕i͝ng ̶for yo͏u,͜ ̸a̛n̸d w͝e ̡won̸ '̸t śt̴óp.̕ "

Even Alya shivered, taking an automatic step back.

Ladybug's earrings chose that moment to beep and she touched her ear in surprise. "We should go. All of us. Be safe, Paris." She pulled her yoyo out and spun it. "Bug out."

Lewis scooped up Vivi in one arm and offered his other hand to Arthur. Arthur accepted and was tucked against Lewis's side as the ghost lifted from the ground in a deliberate burst of showy purple flames.

"So Paris," came Alya's voice behind them. "That's an exclusive with our newest heroes. I think the names are still a work in progress, though. Got any suggestions for them? Send them to the LadyBlog. Ladyblogger out!"

~~~~

Vivi was still delighted by the time they made it back to the hotel after the pause of finding a place to land unseen and for Lewis to resume his human guise. Vivi unlocked the door, tossing her purse aside and kicking off her shoes. “That was great, admit it, Arthur! The way Lewis put Hawkbutt on notice; the way you—” Her hands described the arc of the fire extinguisher, punctuating it with a descending whistle and her best imitation of the sound it had made striking the Akuma.

Arthur rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “Lets not forget you deciding dropping out of the air was a viable attack strategy.”

Lewis snorted. “To her it is.”

“It was!” Vivi fixed him with a pout. "I knew you'd be ready and there was no doubt in my mind that Lewis would catch me."

"And if something had gone wrong?"

"I had a contingency plan."

"Which was?" Lewis prodded.

"It doesn't matter. I didn't have to use it."

"AKA: there wasn't one." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You could have used my miraculous to save her, you know." Zippi emerged from his hiding place in Arthur's vest. "With me, you would be fast enough to catch her."

"See!" Vivi crowed triumphantly. "I told you I had a plan."

"You did not. Besides, I don't even know how to use his miraculous, so that's another strike against you."

Vivi puffed out her cheeks.

"It's 'Scamper,' to transform," Zippi hovered near Arthur's face. "You only have to tell me that and I'll transform you."

Arthur stared at Zippi, fingers plucking at his goatee, mouth half-open as if to say something.

There was a sudden knock on the door that made him jump in place. "Mr. and Mrs. Pepper-Kingsmen, this is the police. Please open the door."

[eversall]

jimon + they get married because one of them needs a green card but it ends up turning into something more (ahhhhhh am i dead yet??)

idek how long ago this was sent i’m so sorry!! also, i don’t know, are you dead yet??

a story the kids won’t believe || 4k+, jace/simon + fake marriage || read on ao3

.

Simon’s life gets wildly out of hand when he opens his door to a furious knocking at three in the morning on Saturday and gets a frazzled, furious Jace Wayland barging into his apartment, shouting, “You need to marry me!”

“I - “ Simon blinks at Jace, takes a step back, collides with his shoe rack, and stumbles further backwards. “Cool, okay, so like. Are you drunk?”

“No.” Jace stalks forward, twisting his hand in Simon’s collar and glaring at him with a wild kind of emotion in his eyes. “If you don’t fucking marry me in the next twenty-four hours, Lewis, I am going to be deported back to France, which is a country I didn’t even know I was from until a few hours ago, so suck it up and take one for the team and marry me.”

Simon blames his half-asleep, drowsy state, and his general saint-like nature for saying yes so quickly.

.

“Matrimony?” Rebecca is wheezing with laughter, slumped over the countertop of Simon’s apartment. There are moving boxes everywhere and Jace’s stupid treadmill is placed precariously close to Simon’s guitar.

“What are you, eighty? Who uses that word anymore?” Simon asks waspishly, meticulously rearranging his coffee cabinet while Jace takes a shower. Jace needs space for his fucking tea collection. Jace needs a spot for his whey powder and protein mixes and whatever-the-fuck the green stuff is so he can keep his body like a beautiful work of art.

Simon has eyes, he’s not blind, he’s well-aware that his new husband - he shudders - looks hot enough to model for Calvin Klein, but God, it’s Jace, and he and Jace have always been better at being assholes to each other - and now Jace’s stuff is strewn through his apartment because the FBI’s immigration officer , Victor Aldertree, has a vendetta against the Lightwoods and is standing ready to fire Alec and Izzy from the FBI and deport Jace off to the home country he didn’t know he had if he so much as catches a whisper that this marriage is fake. Simon is a simple musician. He doesn’t deserve this.

“You’re married.” Rebecca grins. “And you eloped. And it’s a green-card marriage. Mom is gonna be so furious when she hears, I’m going to be the good child for a decade.”

“Not if you don’t tell her,” Simon says pointedly, and she wiggles her eyebrows furiously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” She asks, and Jace chooses that moment to stroll out of the bedroom, his towel slung low on his hips, hair damp and fluffy as it dries, humming as he roots through a box marked Toiletries.

“Make me some tea, darling.” Jace calls over his shoulder, making a kissy face at Simon. Simon glares.

“Make your own, honey.” He shoots back, and Jace cackles as he escapes into the bedroom.

“Ooh, how domestic.” Rebecca grins, eating a cookie she’s managed to unearth from somewhere in the mess. “A stunning example of matrimonial harmony.”

.

Jace is the kind of fit that comes from a special hell of training, so Simon’s not surprised that he wakes up at ass o’clock to go jogging. What does surprise him is that Jace unceremoniously yanks the blankets from Simon’s sleeping form and dumps him on the ground, waking him from a deep, peaceful dream where he didn’t happen to be the only single person in their group of friends and he wasn’t roped into a fake marriage.

“Wha-” Simon starts, but Jace gently nudges Simon’s shoulder with his foot.

“Get up.” He says placidly. “We’re going running. I told Aldertree that we like to share our hobbies with each other.”

“You what.” Simon repeats furiously. “Why couldn’t your hobby be cooking?”

“It is.” Jace grabs Simon’s arm and physically hauls him up; Simon is so surprised by the strength in Jace’s grip and the previous statement that he just blinks up at Jace.

“Really?” He finally asks. “Are you gonna cook for me?”

“You’d get food poisoning if I didn’t. Do you live off of the Jade Wolf’s stuff?” Jace asks disapprovingly. “I can’t believe we’ve been friends for years and you don’t know that I can cook.”

“Enemies!” Simon shouts as he heads into the walk-in closet and fumbles his way through grabbing a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. He’s a people pleaser, he can’t say no to Jace wanting to run with him.

Plus, he - he doesn’t actually want Jace to be deported.

“We’re not enemies. You’re as frightening as a pack of butterflies.” Jace scoffs as Simon comes back out.

“Butterflies are frightening.” Simon protests. “When they land on you and you can feel their tiny legs creeping up your arm - “

“Butterflies don’t land on me.” Jace looks at Simon for a moment with wide eyes, and then he ducks his head and snickers softly. “Simon Lewis, actual Disney princess.”

Simon splutters helplessly for a moment, because Jace’s laugh is really nice and it’s never been directed only at him before. He’s briefly, suddenly overwhelmed by it - he’s married to Jace Herondale. This is his actual husband, they need to file their taxes together, they live together for the foreseeable future -

“Come on.” Jace is holding the door open, just looking at him, and Simon swallows.

What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

.

So the thing is, back when they all first met - when Clary was recruited to work as a “consultant”  on an FBI case because her long-gone father was apparently a psychotic killer - Simon had a small crush on Jace. Just, a small one. Miniscule.

“You thought he was the literal embodiment of the sun.” Maia needles him when he complains to her at the bar.

“I made a mistake.” Simon emphasizes.

Because Jace spent a long time straight up ignoring Simon, and then a few more months teasing him relentlessly until they settled into a comfortable, bickering relationship. And now they’re married which is a huge step forward. Or backwards. Simon’s not sure.

“Well, now you’ll get to see your what-if.” Maia remarks, and Simon shakes his head.

“I don’t need to see a what-if.” He says. He picks at the edge of the bar table. “He’s not that bad anymore, not really. But it’s weird to be married.”

“Honestly?” Maia muses. “Yeah. It’s kind of frightening to think that you guys are doing this. I don’t know how you’re dealing with it.”

“Poorly.” Simon admits, and then he downs a shot.

.

Living with Jace is…something, alright.

They share a bed, because Aldertree warns them that he might pop in for a visit at any time, and besides the fact that Jace hogs all the covers, it’s mostly okay. They’re two fully grown men, but they keep to their own side of the bed and it’s fine.

Jace is always gone in the morning before Simon wakes up, off with his siblings to the FBI building for whatever assignment they’re working on. Simon gets up covered in blankets, which - he’s pretty sure Jace is tucking him in before he leaves for work. He can’t prove it, but it’s happening.

Jace isn’t a great roommate. For all his cooking skills, he’s shit at remembering what food to bring home and they end up with too much in the fridge or too little, and the milk is always expired. Simon tries to use the time Jace isn’t home to write songs and practice for his nightly gigs or record covers for his YouTube channel, but Jace has a habit of coming back at random times of the day if he finishes an op and sleeping off his exhaustion.

Simon doesn’t want to be the dick that wakes Jace up, especially when Jace stumbles through the door with scratches and bruises decorating his face, tiredness set deep in the lines of his shoulders. So he murmurs a hello to Jace, makes sure the dude changes before he falls asleep, and totes his guitar out to Luke’s, where he can practice in the boathouse. It’s inconvenient as hell.

One day, though -

“Where do you always go?” Jace asks, toeing off his shoes near the door. Simon looks up from where he’s packing his notebook up.

“What?” he asks.

“When I come home to sleep.” Jace clarifies, and Simon’s heart leaps for a second at the way Jace says ‘home’. He clears his throat.

“I go to Luke’s place?” Simon says, except it comes out more like a question, and he’s not sure why. Jace is frowning at him, so he adds, “To practice. So I don’t wake you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Jace says, still frowning as he hangs his jacket up and disappears into the bedroom. Simon looks down bemusedly at his guitar and shrugs.

“What else am I supposed to do?” he calls out to Jace, who comes back into the living room in boxers and a T-shirt, sprawling onto the couch next to Simon.

“Play for me.” Jace says.

Simon squawks and clutches his guitar closer. “So you can make fun of me? No thanks.” he says, indignant, and Jace snorts, his eyes keenly watching Simon. “I watch all your YouTube videos, you know.” He tells Simon conversationally, as if this revelation isn’t blowing Simon’s mind. “You’re good.”

“I - of course I am!” Simon splutters, and he frowns in astonishment at Jace. “You watch them?”

“Of course.” Jace gives him a look. “I’ve followed you since I met you.”

“This is it.” Simon declares. “I’ve died and gone into the twilight zone.” Jace laughs, and nudges Simon’s knee with his foot.

“Just play, dude.” He says. Simon pushes his glasses up his nose and fixes Jace with a look.

“Only because you’re basically my number one fan.” Simon says mockingly, and Jace snorts, crossing his legs underneath him and letting his head fall back onto the couch cushions as Simon begins to strum his guitar again.

He plays a softer song, one that he’s been workshopping for the past few hours. He wants to layer it over an irregular synth beat or something, but he’s got to figure out the feel of the tune first, and work out some lyrics. He hums, low and thoughtful, as he loses himself in the music, keeping one eye on Jace. Jace’s eyes drift shut, eyelashes fanning across his cheeks as his fingers lazily tap along his thigh, out of sync with Simon’s music but looking an awful lot like a piano melody that Jace is constructing in his head.

It’s sweet, and peaceful, and Simon can’t control the growing feeling of contentment in his chest as Jace’s face relaxes, stress lines melting away as his fingers go slower and slower, until they fall completely still and his face goes lax, his mouth parting slightly as he falls asleep. Simon keeps playing, shifting his chords to something lower and more like a lullaby, winding the song down as peacefully as possible so he doesn’t wake Jace up.

It seems like hours later that he finally stops strumming, his eyes trained intently on Jace’s peaceful face. Jace is young, and Simon is reminded all over again how unfair it is that the world’s thrown so much against him. Trying to find his birth father after the shit show that was Valentine had been a big enough step, but to be hit with possible deportation for it?

Jace doesn’t deserve that. Simon sighs and places his guitar to the side before he carefully slides his arms under Jace’s neck and the back of his knees, silently counting to three before pushing upward, grunting with the weight of carrying a fully-grown man.

Jace makes a discontented noise and turn his head, his nose brushing Simon’s collarbone as he curls in on himself in Simon’s arms, making himself smaller in the short trek to the bedroom. Simon lowers him to the covers, and stands up slowly, sighing as he watches the way Jace unconsciously reaches for Simon, looking for him even through his sleep.

.

“Who’s great idea was it,” Simon mumbles as he sways into the kitchen, “to invite everyone over only to get hammered.”

“You’re not hammered.” Jace says, amused, from where he’s cutting a cheesecake. “You’re just a ridiculously cheerful, slightly buzzed loser.”

“A loser who’s helping you host a grown-up dinner party, be grateful.” Simon scolds, absently moving to gather plates. From the living room, he hears a slap, and then raucous laughter. Honestly, he’s not sure he wants to know who just got hit.

“I knew I shouldn’t have brought out the champagne.” Jace muses as he wipes his hands on a dish towel and looks at Simon. “Alec likes it, but drunk-Alec is a bad influence on everyone.”

A faint scream of butts comes from the living room, and Jace looks alarmed for a moment as Simon snickers. “There he goes again.”

“Magnus will keep an eye on him.” Simons says, rooting around the cutlery drawer for forks.

“Hey, Si,” Jace says, and his voice is lower now, more intimate as he crosses his arms and walks closer to Simon, his eyes critical, “you want a coffee? You look tired.”

“It’s fine, one of the companies I sent my EP to asked for a different sample of a song so I was up late last night.” Simon runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “I really, really want that record deal. YouTube’s nice, and it’s great to have a following, but…I want to publish my music.”

“You’ll get it.” Jace says confidently. “You’re one of the best musicians I know. Don’t worry so much.”

“Not that easy.” Simon shrugs. “Thanks, though, Jace.” Jace smiles and squeezes Simon’s shoulder, taking the cheesecake and leaving the kitchen. He passes by Izzy coming into the kitchen to refill her glass of water.

“So,” Izzy says, raising an eyebrow, “you gonna tell me what this is all about, or are you gonna keep lying to yourself?”

“Lying.” Simon points a fork at her. “Lying sounds good.” Izzy snorts, flicking her hair over her shoulder and looking at him with eyes that are way too sharp.

“You gotta face it some day, Simon.” She says softly. “You’re both going to get hurt.”

“We’re going to be fine.” Simon shrugs, slings an arm around her neck. “We’re both adults who can totally be fake-married for a year, right? It’s not going to ruin my life and ruin me for other people forever. Not at all.”

“Only if you let it.” Izzy elbows him, looking at him significantly. He shrugs. He’s probably going to let it.

.

It hits Simon one Saturday, when he and Jace are in the middle of a passive aggressive fight over the coffee table. They keep moving it when the other isn’t looking, because this morning they had a screaming match over their cereal about where it should go. They called each other names, said horrible shit - the whole nine yards. Jace left - to God knows where - and Simon holed himself up in the bedroom, writing an angry song about how annoying blonde hair is.

In the weak sunlight filtering through his room, still in his pajamas, Simon comes to the abrupt conclusion that he isn’t hurt because they fought. He’s hurt because it feels too much like a real home, like a real couple, like something he imagines he would really fight over with his husband some day in the future; he’s hurt because it tastes like bitter disappointment to know that this can’t ever happen.

He emerges from his self-loathing in the afternoon to see Jace sitting at the dining table, moodily scrolling through his phone, with takeout containers in front of him.

“You’re up.” Jace says shortly. “I brought Thai.” Simon stares at him, and then hesitantly sits down, pulling the carton towards himself and opening it.

“Thanks.” He tells Jace gruffly, and Jace barely acknowledges it, just keeps looking at his phone as he eats his own food. They chew in silence; it’s deafening.

“So are we not going to talk?” Simon finally asks.

“We don’t have anything to talk about.” Jace says stiffly. Simon glares, pursing his lips, and puts his chopsticks down.

“Fine.” He bites out, and he gets up and stalks toward the bedroom. From behind him, he hears the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, and then -

“Simon.” Jace says, hand catching his wrist, tugging Simon to a stop. His face is pinched, his eyes tired. At the look in Jace’s eyes, Simon deflates.

“This isn’t worth the fight.” he says quietly. “Nap?”

Jace nods, relieved, and just like that, it’s over. They curl up in bed, facing each other, and drift off slowly to sleep in the afternoon sun. Simon feels his heart skip a beat, and then start again, steady in his chest at the thought of Jace.

.

Two weeks later, Simon nervously makes his way to a nondescript office tucked right behind the most hipster coffee shop he’s ever seen and sinks into a chair across from one of the most frightening men he’s ever met in his life.

“Stop looking at me like I’m going to kill you.” Raphael says peevishly.

“It’s a real possibility.” Simon argues, slouching back into his chair. “Well?” His heart is hammering in his throat, his hands clammy, his feet tapping nervously across the floor. Raphael looks at him keenly, and then smirks, infuriating.

“You have a record deal.” He says. “You go into the studio next week.” “Next - oh my God!” Simon shouts, shooting out of his chair. Raphael outright laughs, but Simon doesn’t care - he feels like he’s flying, deliriously ecstatic. “Raphael, thank you, you’re the best manager ever!”

“Well, you’re not a bad singer.” Raphael remarks, which is the highest praise anyone can get from the man anyway. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Simon repeats, grateful. Raphael waves it away, and then leans closer across the desk.

“Now,” He says, his voice curious, “what’s this I hear about you marrying Jace?”

“Oh.” Simon groans and sinks back into his seat. He should have figured Magnus would mention it to Meliorn and Raphael. “Yeah. It’s a thing.”

“Is it…was he threatened with deportation?”

Simon looks up in surprise, his eyes narrowing. “How did you know?” he asks. Raphael shakes his head, looking thoughtful.

“Aldertree’s threatened some of the musicians I knew before with the same thing.” He says, steepling his fingers. “I think I can help you.”

.

And just like that, it’s over. Within two weeks, thanks to Raphael’s frightening efficiency, Aldertree’s been dissuaded from pursuing a deportation case with some heavy-handed manipulation from his ex-boyfriend and a threat of a lawsuit. The FBI moves ahead with granting Jace full citizenship status, and Friday afternoon finds Jace and Simon standing outside of the municipal court, staring dumbly at divorce papers.

“So scandalous, a month-long marriage.” Simon jokes, weakly. His voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from far away, all wrong. Jace looks at him.

“Yeah.” He says flatly. “Scandalous.”

They’re wearing suits, because it felt appropriate, somehow, and now Simon feels like he’s at a funeral. He swallows, unsure, his grip on the papers tightening.

“I’m going to stay with Magnus and Alec tonight.” Jace blurts out. “I’ll come by and pack my stuff tomorrow.”

“You - “ Simon is lost, floundering, hopeless. “You can just stay with me for one more night.”

“I can’t.” Jace says. His mouth twists into a frown. “I’m sorry.”

.

Simon can’t sleep. The bed seems frighteningly large, the covers are too thin, every noise echoes, and he’s alternating between sad and angry.

“Oh Simon.” Clary says when he calls her at two in the morning. He maybe cries a little as she tells him, “You need to let yourself want things more.”

“I know.” He tells her, because he does know. It’s too little, too late.

Jace moves out the next day, coming by with a grim-faced Alec and packing all his things quicker than Simon thought possible. Alec squeezes Simon’s shoulder when Jace leaves without so much as a backwards glance, dropping his keys on the counter and walking out of the apartment.

“He doesn’t mean to be an asshole.” Alec says quietly. Simon lets out a watery laugh.

“Right, it just happens.” He replies, his voice thick, and Alec sighs.

“Take care of yourself, Simon. I’ll see you later this week.” He says, and then he picks up the last box of Jace’s stuff and leaves, and that’s it. Simon’s apartment is his again. No more waking up to a warm body, no more early morning runs, no late nights playing music with Jace. No more fighting over stupid things, no more cooking together, no more watching reruns and making fun of nineties fashion.

No more of his apartment feeling like home.

.

Simon doesn’t see Jace for weeks.

“You’re depressing.” Raphael tells Simon, his voice worried despite his harsh words, when Simon just falters halfway through a line in the studio, again. Simon shrugs his shoulders.

“Life is depressing.” he says morosely. Raphael sighs.

“Why don’t you talk to him?” he asks. Simon shakes his head furiously.

“I don’t care about him.” He says, lying outrageously. Raphael tips his head back in his chair, looking like he’s praying for strength.

“Musicians.” He says, exasperated.

.

A banging on the door startles Simon out of a restless sleep. He sits up, rubs his eyes, checks the time - a little past midnight - and slides his glasses on. The banging sounds again, and Simon swears.

“Coming.” He yells, and he stumbles out of bed to peer through the keyhole to see Jace. He swallows, closes his eyes, counts to three, and then opens the door.

“What do you want?” Simon asks, at the same time that Jace blurts out “I miss you.”

Simon blinks. Jace looks like a nightmare, hair fluffed from where he keeps running his hands through it, blue-brown eyes creased with worry and fatigue. His stubble is atrocious, like he’s forgotten how to shave, and his shirt is buttoned up wrong. He’s the most beautiful thing Simon’s ever seen.

“What?” he asks, finally, his voice high and alarmed. Jace growls, frustrated.

“I. Miss. You.” he bites out. “Don’t make me say it again.” Simon stares at him, his mind working furiously, noting the way Jace swallows.

“You gotta give me something more.” He finally says, softly, and Jace looks at him, his mouth pinched and tight.

“I can do that.” He says finally, and he steps forward and cradles Simon’s face with his large hands -

And then they’re kissing, glorious and wild, Jace’s lips insistently parting Simon’s, heat beginning to coil through Simon’s gut at the soft sound of their mouths sliding together. Simon groans and brings his hands up to weakly grasp at Jace’s shirt, his mind still half-asleep, urging Jace closer still, their noses bumping slightly as he adjusts the angle and kisses back deeper, wanting more. Jace breaks the kiss with a huff, resting their foreheads together, looking at Simon with a tiny smile on his face, his eyes light and carefree.

“That enough for you?” He asks, his voice rough, and Simon bites his lip, watching the way Jace tracks the movement.

“Well, I don’t know.” Simon says, and then quickly, before he can lose his nerve. “You wanna go on a date with me?”

“I want,” Jace says, walking Simon backwards into his apartment and kicking the door shut behind them, “to take you to bed so I can sleep properly, because sleeping with you has ruined my sleep schedule. I need you to be there, snores and all.” “I don’t fucking - you snore! - “

“You can’t prove it. Anyway, and then I want to take you out for brunch tomorrow, and then maybe - we can get started somewhere on making that green card marriage a reality.”

Simon grins, his heart doing cartwheels, pressing a kiss to the tip of Jace’s nose and laughing when he wrinkles it in response.

“Sounds good.” He says. “I’m going to win you over with my charm.” Jace rolls his eyes.

“You had me from the moment you tripped over your own name.” Jace says, and then he pitches his voice higher. “Lewis, Simon Lewis. Two first names. Am I still talking - “

“That was years ago.” Simon interrupts, confused. Jace shifts uncomfortably.

“Yeah?” He says, cautious. Simon’s eyes widen.

“Oh my God.” He shoves at Jace’s shoulder. “All this time?”

“At the risk of sounding cheesy.” Jace says slowly. “Always.”

Simon kisses him again, knotting his fingers in Jace’s hair and trying to press closer, convey everything he can’t say in the kiss. Jace pulls away, looking like he’s been hit by a truck.

“I take it,” Jace says, smirking slightly, “that you feel the same way.” Simon thumbs at Jace’s red, kiss-swollen lips, and rolls his eyes.

“Of course.” He says simply, relishing the way Jace’s eyes light up. “We’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”

.

So yeah, maybe Jace isn’t his husband. But as Simon wakes up the next morning, Jace’s arms suffocating him and the sound of weak snores filling the bedroom, he can’t help but think that they’ll get there, someday. And that’s more than enough for him.

[imaginedilestrade]

The Girl Next Door

Chapter 2 ————— You, Sebastian and Jim sat around the dining table at Seb and Jim's apartment discussing an upcoming political assassination and a gang member assassination. "Frank Jones doesn't have that many members anymore, I could take him down on my own" you told the two men who agreed. You'd be on your own for this job, not like you minded. Sebastian and yourself had been on many individual jobs so Jim knew you were more than capable. Jim took another file of an ambassador that would be the target for the political assassination. The ambassador, Mr Lewis, was going to be at the annual police ball that was two months away. Jim had acquired entry for both you and Sebastian to the ball and deliberated on the best way to kill him. A few hours later they came up with a plan to stage his death as a suicide, he had been in the news recently about various scandals and being driven to suicide wouldn't make you and Seb look suspicious. Your phone buzzed and you quickly glanced over the text letting out a sigh. Jim and Sebastian noticed, looking at you with raised brows "I've got to go..." You stood up and grabbed your jacket. "What is it?" Jim asked. "I forgot I'm babysitting little Maisie tonight, you know Katie's daughter" you replied not removing your gaze from the phone as you texted back. "Ohh Katie the ex-assassin from Siberia?" Sebastian said "She's lovely, but gave it all up for that little girl of hers". You nodded with pursed lips "Yeah, she's still a great friend of mine and she's got a thing with her husband tonight so I said I'd watch Maisie. I'll see you guys later" you gave Jim and Sebastian a peck on the cheek before heading back to your apartment. "Ooh!" You opened the door to the landing and crashed into a figure, your defence mechanism kicked in and you almost slapped Greg across the face. "Oh god Greg sorry!" You squealed. "It's alright..." He trailed off. Your eyes connected with his, you couldn't escape his gaze. A small smile played on your lips, Greg smiled back at you before realising he was tightly gripping onto your waist with his hands. He quickly pulled away pushing you back a bit as your cheeks tinged pink. "Eh...uh...I should be off..." He nervously chuckled while scratching the back of his head "See you later Y/N" Greg rushed his words and left the apartment. You stood in the landing for a minute, confused at what just happened....you didn't want him to let go so soon. You quickly shook away the thoughts from your head and entered the flat, clearing your throat and trying to clam the colour on your cheeks. An hour later Maisie burst through your door, she was like a hurricane on two legs. "Thanks for doing this Y/N" Katie embraced you in a hug and said goodbye to the both of you. "So!" You clapped your hands with a huge smile on your face "What do you want to do Maisie?". The five year old thought for a moment, pressing her index finger against her chin intently. "SUPERHEROES AND VILLAINS!" She squealed with delight and you playfully rolled your eyes. It was a firm favourite when she was over at yours, you had even bought masks and a black and white stripy top and a loot bag for her because Maisie always insisted on being the robber. You had a bright red sheet that you used as a cape, a piece of red fabric with holes cut out as an eye mask and bright red satin underwear that you put on over your trousers. You sneaked about the flat on your tiptoes ready to be pounced upon by a hyperactive five year old. Your bright red fluffy socks made sliding about on the floor a breeze before you came crashing down on the wooden floors with a scream. Maisie jumped onto your back and tackled you to the ground. You let out a hysterical laugh before flipping her around and tickled her sides "I've got you now! I'm going to take back all that money you stole to the bank!" You giggled and the little girl squirmed as you tickled her sides. "Okay....okay!" She squealed out trying to catch her breath between laughs. Maisie was saved by your doorbell and you walked over to answer it while Maisie ran away. You quietly laughed to yourself opening the door before going wide eyed. "Greg!" You removed the mask from your face "Uh, everything alright?" You casually leaned on the doorframe trying to control the blush you could feel creeping to your face. Greg raised a brow at your attire and let out a snort "I was about to ask you the same thing. I could hear screaming next door, was just checking to see if you were alright". A small smile formed on your lips, he cared and it made your heart swell with happiness. You nodded "Yeah I'm babysitting and as you can tell its superheroes and villains..." You trailed off gesturing at your outfit. Greg's eyes moved up and down your body before his gaze firmly remained on your red satin underwear. You cleared your throat and crossed your hands over your underwear, Greg quickly shifted his gaze "Yeah...I don't have a superhero costume so these have to do" you shifted on the spot and let out an awkward chuckle to try and break the tension that was building. "Well you look...great" he whispered the last word with a small smile and you shyly dipped your head mumbling a thanks. "Freeze!" Maisie screamed from behind you using her hand as a gun and making a 'bang' sound. You let out a dramatic gasp and fell to the floor "Greg she's shot me! He's a detective Maisie so you better run!" You said and she ran away giggling. You and Greg both let out a laugh and he helped you up off the floor, pulling you a little too close on the way up. Your chest collided with his and your faces were centimetres away. "Are you really a detective?" A small voice caused you and Greg to quickly pull away. Greg looked at the five year old and smiled. "I am, do you want to see my badge?" He asked and the girl frantically nodded her head. You sent Greg a thankful smile and he went into his flat to get it, you took Maisie's costume and removed your own and met back with Greg on your couch. Maisie's eyes lit up as he talked about his work and the police force, she asked him hundreds of questions (more like interrogated him) before getting tired and pressing her head on your chest. "Someone's sleepy" Greg motioned to the girl and you looked down, gently wrapping your arms around Maisie as her eyes fluttered shut. "Thanks for everything Greg, you've really made her night" you sent him a sincere smile as he stood up and bid you both goodnight. You discreetly followed him with your eyes as he made his way out of your flat, letting out a sigh as door softly shut behind him. 'I can't be feeling like this...people like you do not have the privilege to feel' You mentally scolded yourself. Katie picked up Maisie about an hour later leaving you alone once more. A text from Sebastian distracted you from clearing up the mess you had both made 'Tomorrow night. F. Jones. Good to go?' You typed back and hit send. 'Always' ————————— Tags: @viragannav @straightouttalakewood @damnitman-jamlocked-inthetardis @heaven-bound-angel @musingsofophelia @mycdiary @anamericanplaywright

[lacommunarde]

Snart and Scofield to the Company Came - Chapter 7: Utah

Chapter 1: A Case of Mistaken Identities

Chapter 2: STAR Labs

Chapter 3: What is Leonard Snart?

Chapter 4:  Safety in Central City

Chapter 5: Meetings and Decisions

Chapter 6: Licence Plate Game

Chapter 7: Utah

Fandom: The Flash, Prison Break, Arrow (sort of) Rating: Mature Warnings: Prison Break typical level of violence, (sort of major) character death, Torture, Surgery, Cancer, Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse,

Notes: Spoilers through season 4 of Prison Break, The events of the Flash happen ten years earlier: Len Mick and Lisa are ten years younger but everyone else is canon age, Len is 33, Michael is 28/29 when the fic starts, Linc is 32/33, Mick is 35. Snart Family Feels, Scofield and Burrows Family Feels,

Relationships: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, Leonard Snart & Lisa Snart, Lincoln Burrows & Michael Scofield, Michael Scofield/Sara Tancredi, Maricruz Delgado/Fernando Sucre, Michael Scofield & Leonard Snart, Michael Scofield & Christina Scofield, Leonard Snart & Christina Scofield, Mick Rory & Lincoln Burrows,

Characters: Leonard Snart, Michael Scofield, Mick Rory, Lincoln Burrows, Lisa Snart, Cisco Ramon, Barry Allen, Caitlin Snow, Sara Tancredi, Fernando Sucre, LJ Burrows, Joe West, Iris West, Maricruz Delgado, Felicity Smoak, Alex Mahone, Paul Kellerman, Bill Kim, Christina Scofield, General Krantz, Aldo Burrows, Theodore “T-Bag” Bagwell, Wally West, Lewis Snart, Brad Bellick, Oliver Queen, Axel Walker,

Summary:    When Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows swing by Central City to get a potential plan B for getting to Panama (in case they need it), they are mistaken for Leonard Snart and Mick Rory. Leonard Snart, who is laying low (not in Central City) is mistaken for Scofield. Once their identities are straightened out, Len, Mick and Lisa and the Flash team decide they are going to help the brothers (and Sucre, Sara Tancredi, and LJ) find out why the Company wants them, and the Rogues call in a few favors.

Once they were in town, Lisa said, “Alright, Michael. I got us here. You need to tell me where we’re headed.”

“The city municipal building should have the maps.”

Lisa pointed. “That one there?”

Michael nodded. “That one there.”

Lisa raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you know where it is?”

Michael tipped his head. “The Double K Ranch.”

“Linc.” She dug around in the bag she had been storing the license plates in, pulled out a hat and handed it to Linc. “Stay in the truck. Anyone asks, I’m making a delivery and we should be out of their way momentarily.” She turned to Michael, still holding the bag. “Alright, Michael. Lead the way.”

They got out of the truck and walked into the municipal building. The woman behind the counter looked up. Lisa handed Michael her bag and began pulling her hair up. Michael was watching her with a frown. The woman behind the counter cleared her throat. “May I help you?”

“Yes, we’re here to do a research project. Would you happen to know where the Double K Ranch is?”

Outside, Linc saw a familiar person crossing the street, one who had escaped with the brothers and the one of them he had most hoped never to see again. He climbed out of the truck and shouted after the man, “You!”

The man looked up. Panic showed on his face as he registered Linc and then started running. Linc overtook him before he reached the other side and slammed him against a car. “What are you doing here?” Linc demanded.

“Wait, wait, wait. I can explain,” T-bag started. Linc pulled his arms further behind his back. “Now listen here, Linc the Sink. I think if I start yelling, you got a lot more to lose than I do. Correct me if I’m wrong.”

A call in Michael’s voice came up of, “Shit.” It sounded panicked. Linc realized they must have found the empty truck. “Linc!” that sounded even more panicked. He wondered how quickly Michael would come up with a completely unnecessary plan if he thought Linc had been captured and decided not to chance it.

“Over here!��� Linc yelled. Michael saw him and ran across the street, Lisa tailing closely behind.

“Where’s the map, Bagwell?” Michael demanded.

“Give us the map, T-bag!” Linc shoved him against the car again.

“I would give to you, Pretty, but I don’t have it. And ooh, who is that beautiful young thing you’re…?”

Lisa pulled a gun out of the bag and aimed it at T-bag’s head. “I’ve met your type before. I’ve had the pleasure of killing your type before. Give me one excuse, one, and I will wipe that slimy smirk off your face. Now where’s the map?”

“Yes, ma’am. I was just making small talk with Lincoln and Michael-.”

Lisa pulled the trigger. Out of her gun came a gold stream that hit T-bag’s bad wrist. He screamed. Linc backed up, not quite having thought she would pulled the trigger. Michael jumped, too, until he saw what had fired from the gun, and then he turned to Lisa to gape at her.

T-bag shouted, “You shot me, you bitch!”

“Yeah, it wasn’t anything vital. Now do you want to see your entire body covered in gold?”

“You’re even more nuts than Linc here was when he got his nickname.” Lisa revved her gun again. “I’ll get the map! I’ll get the map!” T-bag shouted. “Tweener has it.”

“Why would David be here?” Michael asked.

“Uh, Tweener and I met up in town and he is also working with me.”

“Really? Why? I thought he would have put as much distance between himself and your rapist ass as possible.” Linc commented.

“We ran into each other in town. He was apparently also on his way to the ranch.”

Linc and Michael met eyes, both wondering who else was on their way to the money and whether others would be able to find it.

“Where is he?” Michael said.

“In the garden store on Main Street.”

“Okay, march,” Linc said. T-bag took a look at Linc, a glance at Lisa, started leading the way.

Michael fell back to Lisa. “May I see your gun?”

Lisa raised her eyebrows, but flipped the gun around and offered it butt first to Michael. “Before you get any ideas, I’m giving you the same warning I gave to my brother: disassemble it, and I shoot you.”

Michael nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He took the gun and examined it. “Does it actually fire gold?”

Lisa shook her head. “Fake gold. Cisco designed it for me with an easily refillable cartridge. And gold, while it would be sweet, is not easily refillable.”

Michael smiled. “Very practical.”

“Or so he said. I think he likes to forget that I’m a Snart sometimes, and am involved with my brother’s heists. I could refill it with gold a lot easier than he likes.”

Michael laughed. “Would you ever think of doing anything else?”

Lisa turned to him and scoffed. “Lenny put me through school and through figure skating training and competitions to make sure I could do as I like. Like Linc did for you, it sounds like.”

Michael tipped his head. “Yes. Although he told me it was my half of the insurance money when he gave it to me.”

“Insurance money?”

Michael sighed. “Our mother died when I was eleven and Linc was fifteen. Linc said she had taken out life insurance. It turned out she hadn’t.”

Lisa bowed her head.

Michael decided to change the subject. “What did you go to school to be?”

Lisa shrugged. “Mechanical engineer.”

Michael laughed. “Really?”

Lisa nodded. “Mmmhmm. Recently graduated too.”

“Tweener!” they heard T-bag yell.

“Hey, let me know if you need any help with him.” Lisa nodded at T-bag. “I’ve done a few jobs with people like that. They aren’t kidding around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

They heard a yell come from inside the garden shop. It sounded like Tweener.

“Linc,” Michael said, eying the store.

Lisa stepped forward. “I’m going too.” She turned to Linc. “Play along if you know what’s good for you.”

Michael nodded.

“You stay out here.” Linc pointed at T-bag.

When they entered the store, Lisa and Linc stopped at the sight of Tweener in a headlock. Lisa shifted postures. “Oh good God, David. What have you gotten yourself involved in now?”

“Wha…?” The guy holding Tweener in a headlock turned and released him. Tweener put as much distance between himself and the guy as possible.

Lisa turned to him and began lecturing. “David, what have you done now?”

“Who…?”

Linc moved close and patted him on the back. “Play along,” he whispered.

“Ok,” Tweener returned.

“Do you know this man, ma’am?” the guy said.

“Yeah. He’s my cousin, from out of state. Son of a gun only just found out he’s got relatives on this side of his family, so he was shipped out here for a summer of hard work. Wasn’t that what your ma said?”

The store owner narrowed his eyes. “He said he was staying with grandpa.”

“On his grandpa’s ranch. Out of town a ways. Granddaddy recently fell ill. Bet he didn’t know the name, did ya?”

The man licked his lips, glancing at Linc as though considering going for his gun. “And who’s he?” He nodded at Linc.

“This?” Lisa nodded at him as well. “This is my husband. We been married a year in August. Trying for a little one, aren’t we, sweetie?” She took his hand and laced her fingers together with his. He let her, but gave the man a momentary expression of being trapped.

The suspicion was gone from his face as he grinned at them both. “Congratulations.” Linc had to hand it to Lisa: she knew how to tell a story.

“Thank you.” Linc shook his hand with his free one.

“We run a landscaping company, and David here forgot to bring the shovels. Would you happen to have any?”

He laughed. “What kind of idiot forgets the shovels?”

Lisa rolled her eyes and pointed her thumb at Tweener. “My cousin.”

“Right this way, ma’am.”

Lisa came back with the shovels and told Linc to get out money to pay for them. “And I don’t suppose you’d know anything about the old Double K ranch?”

The man made a face. “Why do you want to know about that?”

“Gramps said the place we was going used to be the Double K, actually with an expression similar to the one you got on your face now.”

“Used to be Karl Kokosing’s ranch,” the man grimaced.

“Used to be?” Linc asked.

“Now it’s a development. Pop up housing.”

“Shit,” Linc swore under his breath.

“Language, honey,” Lisa said.

“We was told it was the house by where the silo used to be. Your gramps.” He rolled his eyes.

“I can help you out with that.” He pulled out a map. “Here’s the new map.”

Lisa took it. “Thank you. And do you know where the silo used to be?”

“I think I got an old map in the back.”

“I’m gonna send them on to get the truck. Mick, you and David go get the truck. Meet me out front.”

They left. Outside, T-bag was glaring at Michael from where he was sitting on the bench. Michael had Lisa’s gun trained on him and was holding a piece of paper. “Bad news, Michael. The Double K ranch has been replaced by a new development.”

“That is bad. I think I can figure out where it is from this map though.”

Linc glared at T-bag. “Pretty there tried to shoot me,” T-bag protested.

“I’m gonna shoot you if you don’t shut up,” Linc commented.

“Yes, sir,” T-bag said.

“I shot the ground next to him,” Michael said, nodding at a patch of gold on the ground.

“Lisa’s inside getting an old map to line up against the new map.”

“That will be helpful.”

“I’m gonna get the truck. Tweener’s coming with me.”

Michael nodded.

“Hi guys,” Tweener greeted.

“David,” Michael said.

“I don’t see why you two trust him more than me,” T-bag protested. “Out of all of us, only one of us has proved disloyal.”

“Did I say you could talk?” Linc said.

“Out of all of us, only one of us has killed and raped multiple people,” Michael said. He turned to Linc. “Lisa has a point. Go get the truck. I’ll wait here with Bagwell.”

Linc and Tweener went to go get the truck. Lisa came out a few minutes later. “Found out approximately where the silo is.”

When they were all in the truck again, they drove to where the ranch used to be, turning up the road for the development and stopping. Lisa and Michael surveyed the new map and the old map. “Do you know exactly which house it is?”

She shook her head.

Michael stared out at the development.

“How are we gonna find it, Michael?” Linc asked.

“The trees. All of them are new except those two. And that one’s in the right place. It should be under that garage.”

Lisa nodded. “What’s your plan for getting in?”

“Let’s see if there’s anybody there,” Michael said.

“And if there is?”

Michael paused, thinking.

Lisa sighed. “Have any of you actually done any jobs before?”

Linc shrugged. Michael did too. Tweener approached, probably aiming to say something smooth, cut off with Lisa’s hand in his face. He stopped. She pointed at Linc and Michael. “You, I trust. You, well let’s put it this way, do you have a story?”

Michael nodded. “We could do construction crew.”

She inclined her head. “Good. Then you need to use it throughout.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“Great, let’s drive the truck over. Construction crew it is.”

A woman came out of the house then, leaned over to get the paper, and went back in.

“Well, there is a woman in the house. Any smart plans for how to get in?”

“We need to shut off her electricity,” Linc suggested.

“You know how to do that?” Michael asked.

“Yep. Come on.” He led them to an electric box and popped in open then unscrewed a cable from it.

Michael stared at his brother. “Where’d you learn about electricity?”

“We use to steal copper wires. Sell them on the docks. When you were at school, of course.”

The sounds of the tv in the house died.

“So Linc has pulled jobs before,” Lisa observed.

“Yeah, just low key stuff though.”

“Who are you, hot stuff?” Tweener asked.

Linc gaped at him. T-bag raised an eyebrow. Michael just turned to Lisa to watch.

Lisa looked him up and down and smiled as though amused. “Hun, I’m way above your paygrade, so I suggest you don’t try it.”

“Aww. Come on.”

Lisa ignored him and instead turned to Michael and Linc. “Electricity’s out. What’s the next plan?”

“You have uniforms or things that look enough like construction crew clothing?” Michael asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Let’s all put them on.”

They did. Michael knocked on the door.

The woman came to the door.

Michael put on his best smile. “Good day, ma’am. We are with the construction crew working over a block away and we might have blown a fuse. We traced it to here and we would like to fix it, free of charge. Could we do that?”

She looked at them. “Alright. Where is this power fuse?”

“It will probably be in your garage, ma’am.”

The woman smiled at him and moved out of the way. “Right this way.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Linc nodded at her as he went past. She smiled at him. T-bag smiled at her. Tweener looked straight ahead. Lisa nodded at her and they shared a smile. She led them to the garage. Linc closed the door behind them.

As soon as the door was closed, Michael pulled out the shovels and they started digging into the concrete.

A short while later, the woman opened the door to the garage again. “Do you need anything? Any lemonade?”

Lisa smiled at her interrupted. “That would be lovely, ma’am. Do you need any help getting it?”

“That would be lovely.”

Lisa turned back to Michael, nodded, and left with the woman.

As soon as the door was closed, T-bag said, “She’s pretty, Scofield. Though, I thought you had the hots for the prison doc.”

“T-bag, one more word out of you, and I’ll have her shoot you again with her gun.”

“Yes, sir. I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

The door to the outside opened. All of them snapped their eyes over to it, T-bag darting to one side of the door, Linc darting to the other side with a shovel.

Sucre and C-Note walked in.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Linc asked.

“Well, look like it’s one big Fox River reunion,” T-bag commented.

Michael climbed up from the hole. “Well as always, C-Note, your timing is flawless.”

C-Note frowned, taken aback. “I don't follow.”

Michael sighed. “We're trying to run something here, and we can't have people walking in off the street.”

C-Note laughed. “Oh. So you want us to leave and then you can just mail us the check?”

Michael approached Sucre. “Hi Sucre, I know you trust me and you know I'll cut you in on that money but the two of you being here right now jeopardizes everything.”

Sucre shook his head, “I'm not going nowhere. I want my share of the money. ‘Sides, what are you doing with them?” He nodded at Tweener and T-bag.

“They met up with us in town. But now we’re running it, and you need to be out of here for it to be successful.”

“No go, Snowflake,” C-Note shook his head.

The door to the house opened then and Lisa and the woman came in with Lisa saying, “Well, Jeanette, it’s real interesting. I’ll take your advice into account.” She trailed off, seeing the additional two people.

“Well hello, boys. Did the construction company send over additional folks?” she said before Jeanette could open her mouth.

Michael answered before anyone else could, “Yes Lisa. They did. Apparently someone else called over and they sent an additional team.”

Jeanette saw the hole. “Are you boys going to clean up my garage?”

Michael nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We will. We’re almost to the connection then we will switch it on and resurface your garage.”

Jeanette scowled at the men in her garage. Linc gave her a sheepish expression. Sucre looked at his feet. C-Note nodded at her. T-bag smiled.

“Well, if I can give them the lemonade, I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Lisa said, handing Linc and Michael two of the glasses in her hands, “Just an hour more and we’ll be out of your hair. Unfortunately, with the amount of concrete dust we’ll be generating, we’re probably going to need to put on masks soon.”

“You better be out of here soon,” Jeanette said, but she handed Lisa the next two glasses when she held up her hands for them.

“We will be, ma’am,” Michael agreed. She looked around the room, gave Linc a once over with her eyes and a flirtatious smile, and headed back out.

Lisa grabbed C-Note by the shirt and shoved him against the wall. “Are you a moron? Why would you interrupt a job like that if you want it to go off successfully?” she hissed at him.

“Who the heck are you?” C-Note looked at her then over at Michael for an answer.

Michael pulled himself out of the hole completely and stood. “C-Note, Sucre, meet Lisa Snart.”

“She another part of your plan, Papi?” Sucre asked.

Michael shook his head. “No, Sucre, it was a long story about how we met.”

Lisa smiled at him. “He came into my city and our local superhero mistook him for someone else, till he and Linc convinced the superhero’s team that he wasn’t.”

C-Note asked, “Local superhero? Where are you from?”

Lisa shrugged. “Somewhere between here and Chicago.”

C-Note inclined his head. “You don’t want to talk about it. Got it.”

Lisa inclined her head in reply. “What I would like to talk about is how you found you way here.”

C-Note glanced at Michael and Linc. “We were all in the room when Westmoreland told Fish there that the money was in Utah on the Double K Ranch.”

Lisa nodded. “And you didn’t stop by the municipal building?”

C-Note shook his head. “No, I looked at the Army site online.”

Michael glanced at Lisa then at Sucre. Linc pulled himself out of the hole. “Lisa, you have a point. Sucre, what did they do with your cousin?”

Sucre shook his head. “They would have questioned him.”

Michael nodded. “Think he would have told about the Double K Ranch?”

C-Note slapped his palms against his pants.

Linc said, “Fuck.”

Sucre sighed.

T-bag started saying, “See this is why you can’t trust…”

“You got something to say, T-bag?” C-Note walked over to glower at him.

T-bag shook his head.

Tweener looked from one face to the other. “Wait? What does that mean?”

Linc took off his hat and rub his head. “It means they have all the information to find where this place is and are probably on their way here now.”

“Well what do we do, man?” Tweener said. “I can’t go back in there.”

Sucre added, “I can’t either. Even if my girl Maricruz is marrying Hector.”

Linc turned to both of them. “You think I want to go back there? I was on death row!”

T-bag interrupted, “I think we can all agree we don’t want to go back.”

Michael interrupted, “We continue to dig out the money. Then we split up and go our separate ways. Lisa, can you go find out if we have a trail?” Linc nodded in agreement.

Lisa inclined her head.

Sucre asked, “What’s up?”

Michael answered, “We have a friend who is watching for trails on us.”

C-Note nodded, sizing up Michael again.

“If you’ll excuse me.” Lisa stepped outside and pulled out her phone. When she got Len on the phone she said, “Hi, dearest brother. We got a problem, which is to say the entire plan could be blown. We’re in the foundation now. But if you could you go check where the nearest FBI agency is and how much they know about various locations of various buildings?”

“Got it, Lise. How’re they doing?”

“An extra two teams showed up, that’s all, but everyone seems to be getting along alright.”

“Will it affect our cut?”

“Possibly.”

“Damn. I’ll check Salt Lake City for the nearest branch.”

“Do that. Oh and dearest brother?”

“Yes, sis?”

“I assume I don’t need to tell you to be careful.”

“You too.”

They hung up. Lisa went back inside. C-Note and Linc were in the hole digging. Michael and T-bag looked up as she entered, T-bag lounging against the wall.

“Well there, missy. Did you find out what you wanted out of your friend?” T-bag asked.

Lisa narrowed her eyes and turned to him, sizing him up. “You aren’t part of the planning so why don’t you get in there and carry your own weight?”

“I’m not because I can’t, little miss. Ever since Pretty and his fellow escapees cut off my hand, or didn’t he tell you that when you signed up with him?”

Lisa sneered at him. “Did you try to put it somewhere it wasn’t wanted, Bagwell?” She turned, dismissing him from her attention, and walked to Michael. T-bag walked over to a box and sat down on it.

“How’d it go?”

“He’s going to check out what they know in Salt Lake City.”

Michael nodded.

“Hey, did you know that Hamachi isn’t Yellowtail tuna, but a fish called a yellowtail amberjack?”

Linc and C-Note turned to him from where they were digging. “What the hell is Hamachi?”

“It’s sushi, Sink, but you wouldn’t know that would you, having spent most of your adult life in and out of prisons.”

“You know what? I’ve had enough crap out of your mouth…” Linc scrambled out of the hole towards T-bag.

“Hey! Stop it!” Michael shouted.

“You, hands off. You, just shut up,” Lisa pointed at Linc then at T-bag.

“Hey, Sink, I’ll do a little,” Sucre said.

Linc nodded and went to go get a drink from a hose just outside, passing by Tweener. “Tweener, get in there and spell C-Note.”

Tweener nodded and helped C-Note out of the hole.

As Linc and C-Note were coming back in, a loud clink of metal against something hard sounded. “Hey guys!” Sucre called out. “We hit something. Come take a look.”

--

Leonard Snart rode Lisa’s motorcycle into Salt Lake City, stopped at a library to look up the address of the FBI regional office. He found it with only a few minutes of searching, then called, pretending to be a competing janitor service, to find out the name of their janitor service. Once obtained, with the address of their janitor service gathered from a quick search online, he left the library, swung over by the janitors, and grabbed a janitor uniform with a hat and an ID, a 5 gallon bucket and a mop off the back of one of their trucks.

He then drove over to the FBI office, got into the uniform and approached the security desk. “Hi, sir. My company said one of the restrooms in the building has flooded. I can take care of that and be out of your hair in a jiffy.”

The guard looked up only long enough to see the uniform. “ID,” he said.

Len handed over the ID that he had grabbed along with the uniform. The guard typed the name in – a Frank Xavier. As he did so, Len said, “So, they having any luck in finding the Fox River criminals?”

The guard laughed, “You think they tell me that?”

“Surely you must have heard something. Least more than the news networks.”

“Why are you so interested?”

“They sound dangerous. I want them caught as much as the next person,” Len answered. “Also, it’s like the reality tv my sister watches only better.”

The guard laughed, “Well, we got an agent in from headquarters. Supposedly, they’re out here somewhere.”

“How’d they manage that?”

“They’re tricky. Supposedly the leader of it is the brother of the guy who killed the President’s brother. He’s clever.”

“Huh. Not more clever than the FBI surely?”

“No. The guy we got from headquarters – Agent Mahone is his name – he’s good. Though why he wants the old DB Cooper case is anyone’s guess.”

“DB Cooper. Wasn’t he the guy who disappeared on a plane with that money that they keep making shows about?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, wish Agent Mahone luck. Me, I better go clean the toilet mess.”

“Yeah, go on through, Mr. Xavier.”

“Thanks.”

He checked the building when he got in, just in case, and found that even though Mahone’s name was not on it (he had not been expecting it to be, but one never knows), the Regional Director was. He carried his bucket and mop up to that floor. A woman in a suit got it to the elevator and smiled at him. He smiled back. He got off on the floor where the Regional Head was. She put her foot in the door before it could close and grabbed his wrist. Her grip was firm.

“Are you Michael Scofield?” she asked.

He thickened his drawl. “Miss, I can assure you, if I was this Scofield guy, I wouldn’t be wearing this uniform getting calls about a clogged toilet.”

She scanned his face and, he realized, was pressing her fingers against his wrist to monitor whether his heartrate jumped. No nervousness or lies then.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

“Originally, from Central City. Still got the accent. Came out here for work when my sister came out.” His heartrate had not budged at all.

Her eyes narrowed, but she released him. “Fine. Don’t keep that clogged toilet waiting.”

He nodded, then looked both ways in the hall and wrinkled his nose. “Could you tell me where it is on this floor?” He gestured in either direction, looking sheepish.

She laughed, face lightening. “It’s that way.” She pointed.

He touched his hat. “Thank you, Miss. Best of luck finding these guys.”

She tipped her head. The elevator door closed. He started heading down the hall toward the bathroom, stepped in, waited until someone came in, and then stepped back out. Then he walked up the hall to the janitor closet, got out a janitor cart and pushed that over to the Regional Director’s office, where Agent Mahone would no doubt be.

He saw a man in an unbuttoned suit jacket who looked strung out on something in the conference room next to the Regional Director’s office, and kept his head down under his hat as he examined him. There was a trash bin in there that allowed him to get close enough when picking it up and emptying it to get a closer look. Neither the Regional Director nor the other man looked over at him at all.

The man wore a badge that said Agent Mahone. He had a file in his hand and was demanding all the information on the DB Cooper case. The Regional Director expressed surprise. Mahone told him that Scofield and others of the Fox River Eight were going to find where they thought that money was. The Regional Director told him that they still had men who had been involved with that investigation but had never found anything. Mahone demanded the name and they called for the man who had been on the investigation.

Len took out toilet paper from the cart and went to put a roll in each bathroom while the man came up. When the elevator door opened and an older man got off, he went back to the cart.

The man informed Mahone and the Regional Director that they had interviewed a young man at a gas station a ways outside of Salt Lake City.

“Great,” Mahone said, opening the file. “Did you notice he lied? He said once that he met Westmoreland at 7am and once that he met him at 7pm. Let’s go see which it was. With that and his tattoo, we should be able to find out where they are.”

That said, Mahone, the older man and the Regional Director walked out of the conference room. Len ducked his head down again and pushed the cart back to the janitor’s closet, then took the next elevator down.

In the janitor closet, he picked up his cell and called his sister. “Emergency. They’re getting closer to Tooele and they know about the tattoo.”

“Shit,” Lisa said.

“You almost out of there?”

“We’re got the money all packed away and are covering the garage floor now.”

“Great. Then get out of there.”

“Sure thing.” They hung up.

Len pulled off the uniform and tossed them and the ID in the bucket, which he left inside the janitor closet outside the security gates in the lobby. He threw on his sunglasses and walked out of the building. They were just getting into a car when he swung his leg over Lisa’s motorcycle. He allowed them a head start then followed.

--

“Okay, boys, time to hurry it up and get going. They know about Tooele, and Michael, they know about the tattoo. I’d say everything on there is suspect.”

“Damnit!” Linc tossed his hat to the ground.

“A few more minutes, then we can go.” Michael gestured at the backpacks, the big one where they had put a majority of the money, and the smaller ones where they had put around $10,000 each.

“Just finish the floor then we have to leave.”

They heard a car pulled up to the house. Lisa looked out the door and froze. “It’s a cop.”

“Shit!” C-Note swore.

“What do we do?” Tweener said.

Lisa watched as the cop came up to the door and opened it. A call of, “Mom?” could be heard inside the house.

“Jeanette has a police officer for a daughter,” T-bag observed, putting down one of the magazines he had been stacking on his lap which he had found somewhere in the garage and had been reading from to annoy those who were digging.

Michael gave a slight nod. Sucre’s eyes darted to him and he gave a slight nod back.

Sucre pulled a gun on all of them.

“What the hell, Sucre?” Michael shouted.

“Everybody to the floor! Now!” Sucre aimed the gun at C-note, at Tweener, at Michael, at T-Bag and at Linc.

She eyed Michael, who got to the floor as quickly as possible. He met her eyes and gave a slight smile then eyed T-Bag, Tweener, and C-Note. She understood: the plan was to get Sucre to take the money and follow him.

She got to the floor as well.

Sucre grabbed the backpack and still aiming the gun at them, exited the garage door.

After Sure exited, Michael got to his feet again and kicked something, running his hands over his head. “Fuck!” he shouted.

“So much for the money, huh, Snowflake,” C-note said.

“We still got the money in our individual packs. I suggest that we don’t wait till the floor is dry and go. The cop is likely to recognize us.”

“We can try to track Sucre from the truck,” Lisa said.

Michael nodded. “We should all split up to look, and to make it harder for them to track us.”

“Yeah, Pretty. Guess this plan didn’t work out as well as you’d thought,” T-bag said. “I’m leaving first.” He pulled a gun out of his bag and aimed it at Michael.

Michael put up his hands, nodded at T-bag. T-bag took his pack and left. Then Michael got up and handed C-Note a bag with around $10,000 in it. “My apologies, C-Note. If any of us gets the money, or needs to communicate, there’s a website, europeangoldfinch.net, which is a chat room.”

C-Note nodded, hugged Michael and Linc and headed out. Tweener gestured at a backpack. Michael threw one at him. “Get out of here.”

Tweener nodded and left, leaving Lisa, Linc and Michael behind. “We had best get out of here too.” He nodded at the house.

Lisa nodded and grabbed their packs.

Linc grabbed his brother and shoved him against the wall. “What the hell, Michael? I thought you trusted that guy!”

Michael nodded. “We’ll meet up just out of town.”

“Wait? This was part of your plan?” Linc shouted.

“Made on the spot, but yes, I handed him a note while we were digging. That way, Leonard, Lisa and Mick get their ten percent, and of the remainder, we get seventy percent and Sucre gets thirty.”

Linc released Michael and turned to Lisa. “Did you know about this?”

“Not till it was ongoing, but it was similar enough to something Lenny and Mick pulled that I played along.”

Linc gestured at Michael. “Next time, give me some hint.”

Michael tipped his head. “If the situation allows for it, I will. Now, I’m going to meet up with Sucre. You two meet us with the truck.”

Lisa nodded at them, “You two go reconnect her power and then get in the truck. I’m going to tell Jeanette we finished her garage.”

Michael and Linc nodded and got into the truck. Lisa stuck her head into the house. “Hi, ma’am. Oh, I didn’t know you had company!”

“Who’s this, Mom?” said the cop.

“Construction company from up the road. We traced a cable that went out while we were working to under your garage, dug it up, replaced it and resurfaced your garage. You should have power again in five minutes.”

The cop narrowed her eyes. “And how much will that cost?”

“We did it for free. We’re not sure it wasn’t our fault the cable went out in the first place. You should be back up and running, but just in case, feel free to call the construction company.”

“I’m going to go check on the garage to make sure nothing’s missing,” said the cop.

“Yes, ma’am.”

At that moment, the power came back on. “See what did I tell you?”

“Thank you.”

“We’re going home now, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to give us a call,” Lisa added, digging around in her construction uniform before coming up with a business card for a construction company. “Have a good day.”

She met Michael and Linc in the truck.

Lisa pulled out a box and put it on the dashboard. “What’s that?” Linc asked.

“Police radio. Lenny, Mick and I use it to track where the cops are. I figured it’d be useful now.”

Michael nodded. “Very useful.”

Lisa turned it on. “Car 94, go check if the missing car belongs to the college girl.”

“What’s car 72 doing?”

“Car 72 has been put on the Fox River case. FBI wants to check out the DB Cooper case.”

“Again? Why?”

“Apparently that’s what the Fox River Eight are headed toward.”

“They found it?”

“They think they have.”

“Good for them! Sorry, sir, but it’d be good to know someone’s solved it.”

“Just go check on the car, Simpson.”

The police radio went quiet. Lis asked, “Do you want to find out what the FBI agent knows?”

“Is that possible?”

“Jeanette’s cop had a picture in front of a cop car with the number 82, and that’s the number on the cop car. However, it’ll give them our voices and tell them we were listening in, so they won’t use the radio anymore.”

“And they won’t know we’re here if we just listen?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Let’s just listen in as observers then.”

Lisa nodded. “Turn on the truck radio too in that case. We want to hear everything about where they think we are.”

Linc did.

“More news in the Fox River case. Lincoln Burrows Junior, the son of Lincoln Burrows. He was arrested in connection with a double homicide, but is being released due to the disappearance of blood and fingerprint evidence.”

“That’s my son!” Linc turned up the volume on the radio. “He’s being released. We gotta go get him.”

Lisa grabbed him. “We ain’t going without a plan.”

“Linc, that’s just what they want.”

Linc shook her off. “You don’t understand. That’s my son! That’s LJ!”

“Yes, I do understand, Linc. But we don’t have time for this now!”

Lisa reached over and grabbed his jacket, pulling him close and looking into his eyes. “Listen, you idiot! He was released because they’re hoping to lure you out. Understood? And I’m not saying we can’t get him. Yeah?” Linc licked his lip. “We just gotta get him with a plan. Do you understand?” Linc nodded. Lisa sighed and let go of him. “Okay. First. We get… Sucre, I believe his name is?”

“Sucre.” Michael nodded.

“Then we get Lincoln Burrows Junior.”

“LJ.”

“LJ.”

“Understood?”

Linc nodded. “But we aren’t going to get LJ ourselves. We’re going to call in a few favors. Now, where is he?”

Michael nodded. “Arizona.”

Lisa sighed. “Lenny has a contact there.”

Michael said, “Are you sure?”

Lisa pulled out her phone. “He owes us big time. He’ll do it.” She opened it. “Out of the house. Calling Charles Moran. Kid of a passenger of ours was just released from custody. In Arizona. How many favors can I use, dearest brother? Ok. Great. Ugh. Good luck with that then. Oh? On what? Well, let us know if what he’s on proves useful.”

She hung up. “Lenny says the agent – Mahone – is apparently strung out on something. He thinks it’s a downer of some variety and is going to find out more. Now I’m going to call our contact.”

“Charlie. How are you? You want to pay up? Listen very closely. Kid of a… passenger of ours was just released from custody. Course that’s what I mean. He’s in Arizona. Name of LJ. Yes. Wouldn’t you like to know? Alright. Meet at the diner. You know the one. Don’t disappoint me.”

Linc stared at her. “What did he owe you?”

“He was an idiot and almost made a job go pear shaped. My brother was in a good mood that day and let him live. Also, he didn’t make things go unfixably wrong.”

“Your brother kills people?” Michael asked.

“Does it bother you?”

“Yes,” Michael answered.

“Don’t worry about it. He tries not to kill innocents, if at all possible.”

“Still,” Linc said.

“If it disturbs you so much, you’re welcome to get out. Besides, he agreed not to recently and has been good about keeping his word.”

Michael nodded and met Linc’s eyes. “If it helps us get LJ,” Linc said.

“But first let’s meet up with Sucre.”

“Fine. Tell me where you agreed to meet him.”

--

Sucre met up with them in a woods just outside of Tooele. “Hi, Sucre. Need a lift?” Michael said as they leaned out of the truck.

Sucre stopped and turned to smile at the truck. “Hi, Papi. Hi Sink.”

“Don’t just gape at the truck. Get in,” Lisa said. Sucre nodded at her and climbed in.

“Hi. I’m Fernando Sucre.”

“Lisa Snart.”

“My cousin’s bike is back there a ways.”

“Fine. We’ll go get it. But first, let me see the money.”

Sucre’s eyes snapped to Michael.

“I agree to give her ten percent.”

Sucre nodded and opened the bag, to reveal National Geographic magazines, the same as the ones T-bag had been reading from earlier. “What the…?”

Linc saw them and frowned. “What are those?”

Lisa stopped and looked over at them. “Shit.” She picked up the one on top. “That creep! T-bag?”

“T-bag,” Sucre agreed.

“Damnit,” Michael swore.

“What are we going to do now, Michael?” Linc said. “Should have killed him when I had the chance.”

Lisa flipped open her phone. “Lenny, there’s a problem. Blond haired guy with one hand and a backpack has the money. He won’t be far from Tooele. Yeah. He’s a creeper too. No, on foot. Yeah, he reminds me of Tyler. Yep, that type. He’s got a blue backpack. The big backpack. Scrawny guy, paisley shirt. Yes. Thank you, Lenny.”

He turned back to the three in her truck. “I put a tracking device in the bags. Lenny will track him down. You didn’t have any attachment to him, right?”

--

T-bag was just getting in the car he had driven from Illinois in, at the motel on the outskirts of Tooele, when a man in sunglasses and a blue parka pulled a motorcycle in beside his car. The man turned to survey him, got off his bike and walked over to the car, taking off his sunglasses as he did.

“Pretty, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again,” T-bag started.

The man who looked like Michael interrupted, speaking with a thick drawl. “Hand over the money.”

T-bag had not felt nervous around Michael in prison. If anything, Michael had given him the impression of someone who didn’t have it in him to kill another person. Looking at him now, however, he got an entirely different impression. “I was just keeping it safe for you, so why don’t we split it and then you can get more than you would have gotten splitting it with hundred dollar Mr. Africa and your Puerto Rican cellie.”

The man who looked like Michael moved up to him to stare into his eyes. “Mmm. How bout I just take it all and shoot you?”

“You don’t got it in you, Pretty. However, if you was to permit me to come along with you while you pull your disappearing act, I could be persuaded to give you a sixty percent share.”

The man shook his head and tightened his jaw. T-bag looked into his eyes and saw that they had gotten colder.

“Or more. We can split it three ways between your brother, you and me.”

“Again. You screwed up a job.” The man took another step forward. T-bag took a step back.

“I’m sure something can be arranged between the two of us. Maybe, I can just take ten percent it in exchange for a roll in the hay.”

“With you?”

“Pretty, I’ve had my eyes on you since the day you was brought into Fox River. I’d be willing to let you go with a majority of the money in exchange for that.”

The man looked up and down T-bag. “Don’t think so. Now, give me the money.”

T-bag took a step toward him. “Pretty, I may just find you afterwards and have my way with your pretty ass anyway.”

The man who looked like Michael raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you don’t understand what’s going on here. I am taking the money and leaving you alive, if you cooperate.”

“Pretty, you don’t have it in you.”

The man who looked like Michael pulled out an oversized gun that revved a cold, electric blue. With no change in expression, he shot T-bag with a blue beam of light. The last thing T-bag felt was his body flinching away from the coldness spreading through his belly.

Len stared down at the frozen corpse of T-bag determining that he had known rapists like that in Iron Heights. They were all awful. He gave the corpse a kick, then looked in the passenger seat of the car. Sure enough, the backpack was in there. He checked to make sure the money was in the backpack – showing up with the pack with no cash wouldn’t do. The pack was loaded with bundles of twenties. He inclined his head, tied the pack firmly onto his motorcycle, loaded T-bag into the car, and rode towards Michael and the others with the money.

“Hi, sis. The package is safe and sound.”

She hung up on the opposite end. “Boys, the money is in our possession.”

[providentially-demonic]

Miraculous Mystery Skulls: Chapter Two

First Arc: a Spellcaster, a Ghost and a Mechanic walk into a bar Paris

Summary: On their honeymoon in Paris, the City of Lights, the trio of Vivi, Lewis and Arthur encounter more than sightseeing… in the form of monsters, supervillains and a pair of teen superheroes. Sometimes, miraculous things can happen, when you least expect it.

(A Mystery Skulls/Miraculous Ladybug crossover event)

A/N: This all started with this fic by @phantoms-lair and the silly idea of them running into Chat Noir and Ladybug while there. It grew…

It’s a tale of heroes, miraculous, found family and more (with a healthy dose of puns). Co-created and written with assistance from @phantoms-lair, so she deserves some of the credit and a lot of the blame! :P

Back to Chapter One

Chapter Two: Language and Other Barriers

In spite of the late night, Vivi had them up by ten. The smell of fresh hot coffee and pastries lured Arthur out of the depths of slumber, where he'd spent a surprising amount of time since their flight. Vivi was seated Indian-style on the chest at the foot of the bed, bright colored brochures spread around her and something smelling enticingly of cinnamon in one hand.

Arthur pushed himself upright to be greeted by a kiss on the cheek and a offered take-out cup that smelled like heaven.

"Up and at'em, sleepy head." Lewis chuckled warmly. "I think Vi has decided we're playing tourist today."

On cue, Vivi lifted her head and stuck out her tongue. "I was promised sights, and I don't plan on letting Hawk-Mothra ruin our entire honeymoon. Today we spend enjoying ourselves." She took an over-large bite of the pastry in her hand and grinned with stuffed cheeks. "So get your cute butt out of bed and cleaned up before I eat all the lovely goodies Lewis got from the bakery down the street."

“Fine, fine. I’m up.” Arthur accepted the hand Lewis held out to him and pulled himself from the comfort of the bed. Lewis set the coffee on the beside table and shooed Arthur into the bathroom with a pat on the rump. Arthur stuck his tongue out at him but retreated into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. He emerged and attached his arm, braced for the familiar wash of pain.

Lewis rubbed his back until it was over and offered him the coffee again. Arthur took it gratefully. “So where is she planning on dragging us today?”

“To judge by the brochures, everywhere.” Lewis chuckled dryly and offered him a pink and white bakery box.

Vivi shot them both a dirty look. “Just for that I should drag you around shopping all day.”

“You’d be bored in half an hour,” Arthur selected a pastry and took a bite. He moaned in appreciation of the flakey, buttery taste. “Oh, man, these are amazing. Wonder if we can smuggle a few home?”

“I’m already planning to get breakfast from there every morning until we go home.” Vivi’s sour frown vanished like a leaf in the wind as she bit into another. “So yummy.”

“I think that's a very good idea.” Lewis reached out to tap Vivi's nose affectionately, wearing a grin Arthur could only describe as shit-eating. “Very lucky that it's so near. And I already spotted a familiar face there.”

Arthur lifted his head to give Lewis a bemused look. He hadn't— “Dare I ask—?”

“Ooh—!” Vivi exclaimed, a delighted smile lighting up her face.

Suddenly, Lewis’s head came up and he focused on the balcony. With a frown, he strode over and opened the doors.

“Lew-Lew? What is it?” Vivi abandoned her scone and reached for her bat.

“I don’t know. I thought I saw something out here. It was small and red.” Lewis peered around.

Arthur’s hand clenched on his coffee, “Not an Akuma, then?”

“Those are purple and black, so no.”

Vivi peered under Lewis's arm. “I don’t see anything. Think you scared it off?”

Arthur joined them at the doors. “I think it’s more likely that a visitor from last night had the same idea you did, Lewis.” He carefully did not say more in case their spy was still in earshot.

Lewis frowned. “Whatever it was, it moved fast.”

Lewis sighed and closed the balcony doors. After a moment he hesitated and turned to the bakery box on the table. He selected a pastry and set it on a paper plate that he set out on the wrought iron table outside. He chuckled at Arthur's wry smile. "Never hurts to make a friend. And even if the pigeons get it, I still made the effort."

Arthur elbowed him. "You're still a sap, Big Guy, but that's what we love about you."

~~~~

It was nearly eight when they got back to the hotel, laden with shopping bags and footsore, but Vivi was delighted and that made it all worth it. They had managed to find a tour of the catacombs, guided of course, but better that than not at all. And Vivi had been in her element.

Lewis had hung close, not spooked, but wary of the pressure of hundreds of years of spirits interred with their bones. Not too many had been hostile and none of them were willing to brave him to try anything but he admitted to being glad when they had emerged into the sunlight again.

Arthur had to admit he was honestly glad, both for Lewis’s protective hovering in the oppressive atmosphere of the catacombs and for when they had finally left the bones of the dead to their rest, and headed back into the bright bustle of a Paris afternoon.

After a late lunch, Vivi had called home and Uncle Lance, who was looking after their apartment and assorted other things, and had him put Mystery on the phone. She put him on speaker and explained what they knew in a few short sentences and that they had a lead on someone who could tell them more.

Mystery  made a sound deep in his throat. “I’ve heard of kwami, though I have never encountered one. They are primal forces, but still innocent, like children, in their delight at all things new. I know little more, though.” they could hear his tags jingle in a way that indicated he was giving himself a good shake. “I could be there within hours if you need me.” His tone was eager.

“Ease up there, knight errant, your princess doesn’t need you to ride to the rescue just yet.” Vivi chuckled. “I’ll let you know when we have a dragon to slay, trust me. For now, though, we need to find out what we can, and for that I can’t rely on imperfect translations. Chat Noir’s English is good, but we’ve already had a language snafu that could have been really bad, and my French is passable at best. Lewis’s is way better, but—” Vivi shrugged, even knowing he couldn’t see her. “I used that translation spell, but I need something a bit more permanent. It only lasts as long as the carrier does, and well, ice melts.”

Mystery chuffed. “You’re limiting yourself again. Outside the box, my dear. What is ice but—?”

“Water,” Arthur answered for her.

“Mmnn, and we are composed of a good percentage of what element?” Mystery’s voice carried a trace of his sly smile.

“Okay, okay, but how do I— oh, wait. Perform the spell on the ice and then drink the water.”

“Indeed.” Now Mystery’s tone was more like that of a proud parent. “It will require some binding agents to integrate the spell into your bodies, so you may need to do a little shopping. Now, to begin, you will need some lemon balm. Dried will work but fresh is better—”

“Hang on, hang on, let me write this down—” Vivi grabbed a pencil out of her bag and scribbled the ingredients down as Mystery dictated them. When he was done, she tapped the eraser against her chin thoughtfully. “Most of this I can get at a grocery store or herbalist but these last two, I’ll need to find an esoterica shop for those. Hope there’s one nearby. Might as well stock up on a few things if we find one, no sense in facing Hawkmoth without a few weapons in my arsenal.”

After she hung up, she pulled up google on her phone and spent a few minutes quietly muttering to herself. “Got it!’ She declared at last, pulling up a map. “Fresh market here should have most of these and then we head here for the other stuff.”

Arthur chuckled. “Looks like you get to drag us around shopping after all.”

“Hush, husband mine.”

That had taken the rest of the afternoon and they stopped for dinner afterwards before returning to the hotel. Vivi sorted her spoils into three categories, souvenirs for the folks back home (and one for herself but really, it was her honeymoon) things for her spell and things for her personal arsenal of magic. “I can prep the tincture now, but I need one of them for their language.” She groaned in frustration. “And then that means waiting for the ice to melt!”

Arthur snorted a laugh. “Vi, two words: Fire. Ghost.”

Lewis summoned a tiny fireball in his palm to illustrate. “One magic drink; no waiting.”

“I knew I married the two of you for a reason.” Vivi chortled with delight and peppered both of them with kisses.

~~~~

Ladybug was the first to meet them at the park, alighting on the grass with a soft thump. Her eyes were wary as she scanned the area. Though the park was well-lit in the twilight, there were plenty of patches of shadow that could conceal a threat.

Lewis glanced around to make sure they were alone and called up several of his light orbs, sending them to hang in the branches of the nearest trees like Chinese lanterns. Ladybug peered at them before a small smile curved her lips. "That's a useful trick."

Vivi looked up where she was setting up a pitcher of ice and several paper cups and smiled a welcome.

Lewis laughed and waved her to the table where Vivi was decanting her tincture into the ice. "One of several," he replied in decent French.

Vivi murmured her incantation and touched the ice, before gesturing Ladybug forward to do the same.

"I can't," Ladybug said helplessly, raising her gloved hands. Unlike Chat's, they were one piece with her suit and could not be removed.

"Something Milady cannot do?" Chat's voice purred from overhead. "I am paw-sitively shocked."

"You don't have to be catty about it," Ladybug retorted in the same spirit.

Chat dropped to the ground and offered a sharp-toothed grin. "Brava."

Vivi explained what she was doing to Chat, who translated it into French for his partner. Ladybug understood some English but was not fluent, he explained in an aside to Vivi, before peeling off a glove and touching the ice.

Vivi grinned at him and offered the pitcher to Lewis. He obligingly lit one of his hands afire and cupped the bottom of it, carefully modulating the heat to melt the ice. When all that remained was water, Vivi took it back and poured a cup for all of them. She made sure to drink hers first. Arthur followed suit while Lewis looked mournfully at his own glass. “I can drink this, but it’s not like I’m really going to metabolize it— or the spell, Vi.”

"Oh for pity's sake," Vivi sighed and grabbed his locket. Dunking it unceremoniously into his cup, she muttered a few short words.

Lewis yelped. "C-cold!"

"Big baby."

"Watch and see if I don't toss you right in the lake when we get home," he grumped sourly at her, cradling his abused locket.

Arthur chuckled. "Stop acting like a cat that just had a bath."

Chat laughed while Ladybug just rolled her eyes.

Vivi thumbed her nose at her ghostly husband before turning her attention to Chat and Ladybug. “This one isn’t going to fade,” she explained. “The spell is essentially absorbed into our systems through the water. So we won't have any more— miscommunication issues. You two now know English as if you had spoken it all your lives, while we know French the same way.”

Chat laughed again. “Wow, if I could use that all the time I wouldn’t have to take language lessons every week.”

“It’s a bit of a hassle to put together, but worth it in cases like this. Our earlier linguistic issue could have ended badly, for all concerned.” Vivi stowed the pitcher and the rest of the things she had brought in a large shopping bag.

“How many languages do you speak?” Ladybug murmured quietly to Chat.

“Three fluently, counting French,” Chat ticked off several clawed fingers. “Two more that I’m passable at, but not fluent. A few words here and there of others.”

“Color me impressed, kitty-cat.”

“Mew only have to ask and I will happily caterwaul you a song in one of the languages I know, Milady.” Chat’s bow was flamboyant.

“I’ll pass on the alley serenade, thanks.” Ladybug reached out and flicked the bell he wore around his neck.

“But we could have a yowling good time.”

“Don't push your luck, kitty.”

Vivi stifled a laugh. She had to admit, she liked these two. Chat reminded her a lot of Arthur, insouciant charm and sass, hiding pain behind a smile and attitude. He was better now, most of the time, but Chat could be a younger version of him easily. Including the pain. She hadn't forgotten his verbal misstep of last night. “So, now that we can all speak, shall we go speak to this Master Fu of yours?”

She didn’t miss Ladybug’s almost instinctive flinch.

Chat rested a hand on Ladybug’s tense shoulder. “Lets.”

She heaved a sigh and nodded. “We’ll lead you from the rooftops.”

~~~~

Ladybug called out from above. "Turn left down here. We're here."

She leapt down to land in front of them. Her expression was still nervous. Chat put a hand on her shoulder and she tried for a smile. It was wobbly. "I-I know this is the best thing to do but I can't help being nervous."

Vivi smiled at her. "Trust me. He wants someone to blame, I'm right here and I am not afraid of anything he comes up with."

Ladybug was trying not to hunch in on herself. Arthur was intimately familiar with her posture. He crouched in front of her to bring their eyes to the same level. "Hey, what's got you so spooked?"

"I'm not scared," she retorted.

"Don't kid a kidder. I know scared. You're flat-out terrified." Arthur took her hand, a little surprised when she didn't flinch away.

"I— I don't want to lose my Kwami... I'm afraid he'll say we're not worthy and take them away from us. They're not only our kwami, but our friends too."

"I dare him to try." Vivi's voice was flat. "No offense to you two, but it’s pretty clear he's manipulating you through the medium of only letting you have bits of information and playing on your loyalty to each other and to your kwami." She snorted. "I haven't even met him and I'm already unimpressed."

Ladybug tapped softly on the door and took a deep breath, clearly bracing herself. Chat Noir was right behind her, his posture a mix of concern and protectiveness.

An older Asian man opened the door. Arthur guesstimated he was in his early fifties. He smiled in a grandfatherly way at the two teen superheroes. "Ladybug— and Chat Noir... What brings you to my door?"

Ladybug choked, freezing like a deer in headlights. Behind her mask, her eyes were wide and startled. "Uhh—" she managed to squeak.

Chat smoothly took over. His smile was the same guarded one from last night. "Greetings, Master Fu. We brought some allies over and were hoping to pick your brains on what we could do to solve the Hawkmoth problem, once and for all."

Master Fu's smile did not waver but his eyes were shuttered and wary. "Ahh, allies? I was unaware of any other miraculous in operation besides Hawkmoth's. And yours, of course."

"Oh, we may not have Miraculous, but we have our own talents," Vivi stepped forward and put her hand on Chat's shoulder.  Her smile was her most high-wattage customer service smile. "Trust me. We have a lot of very useful abilities that can be applied to this fight."

"I... see." Master Fu's voice, like his eyes, had lost several degrees of warmth. "I do believe this is best discussed over tea, yes. Please come in."

They followed him into a very Chinese themed room, decorated sparingly, with a single low table that held a kettle, a single cup, several old looking books and oddly, a smartphone.

Arthur noted that he peered out into the narrow street before closing and locking the door.

Fu gestured them to the table, taking a tea tray from a cabinet and disappearing into a second room, that Arthur leaned over to catch a glimpse of. It looked like an ordinary enough kitchen, but he wasn't about to assume anything. What little he had learned about this man set his hackles up, and to judge by Vivi's darting glances, she wasn't taking anything at face value either.

Ladybug had dropped cross-legged onto a flat cushion, her whole posture one of barely contained panic. Chat Noir crouched as near her as space allowed, not touching, but barely a breath away. His expression alternated between concern for her and a watchfulness that was years outside his actual age.

Vivi followed Ladybug's example, but sat with her legs folded under her. Her back was ramrod straight and Arthur was reminded of the way she'd held herself at tea with her grandmother.

He dropped onto a cushion to her right, his posture carefully calculated to look careless.

Lewis settled on the cushion to Vivi's left, slightly farther back from the table. He wore his sunglasses to hide his uncanny eyes and an affable smile. For all his bulk, he appeared mostly harmless this way.

Master Fu returned with the tea tray, his expression even more inscrutable than before. His grandfatherly mask had slipped a little more, but he offered a careful smile and a brief bow before seating himself opposite them. There was silence as he poured tea for all of them.

Ladybug was too keyed up to even touch hers and Chat followed her example. Lewis only glanced at his before returning his attention to Master Fu and Arthur carelessly ignored his cup.

Vivi took her offered cup and deliberately inhaled the steam before taking a sip. "Excellent blend. Thank you."

Master Fu raised an eyebrow and sipped his own cup, glancing at the other untouched cups on the table.

Vivi gave a discrete signal at Lewis to pick up his own cup. Arthur continued to ignore his, playing the 'rude American' to the hilt.

"It is quite good," Lewis said after a sip.

"I am pleased you like it, but I doubt Ladybug and Chat Noir brought you here for a cup of tea."

"They did not." Vivi put her cup down. "We asked to be brought to you to discuss Hawkmoth, and what we can do to help pluck his wings."

Master Fu's expression became more rigid. "I am pleased by your willingness to help, but it is best to leave these things to the professionals."

Vivi's expression was like ice. "You may be content to allow two fourteen year olds to face a super-powered megalomaniac, but I am not."

Master Fu looked to Chat Noir and Ladybug, but the horror on their faces showed they had not told their guests that. That was good, at least, he had feared they had been lax. "And what makes you say they're fourteen?"

"Oh there is no need to be coy about it. I can also tell you their names and where they both live, If I desired to." She took another sip of tea. "My dear Lewis even paid Ladybug's residence a visit this morning."

Ladybug made a strangled squeaking sound.

Of course, it hadn't been because they'd known it was Ladybug's home, that had been a  coincidence, but better to play it up. "Your mother's macarons are divine, by the way. Now, I am here on my honeymoon. I have known about Paris's superhero and villain situation for less than twenty four hours and I've learned that much. Because I know how to look. I can guarantee there are others in the world who can do the same. What can you do if Hawkmoth finds such a person?"

"You know nothing of Hawkmoth."

"I know everything I need to know. I know he uses a kwami, a primal force of the universe, to empower and control people. I know he's familiar enough with Japanese spiritual beliefs to know the term akuma, but not so much as to know what it really means. I know his power manifests like a possession, themed through an item the victim has. I know he desires the Miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir in addition to his own. And most importantly, I know he targeted my husband, and in doing so signed his own warrant."

She leaned forward, eyes intent. "And now, Master Fu, shall I tell you what I know about you?"

At this, Lewis and Arthur froze and gave her a look, trying to tell her to back off, but Vivi was having exactly none of that.

"I would be most interested in what you could possibly learned about me in such little time that we shared." The words were kind, but there was steel behind the tone.

Vivi took a last sip of her tea, as if gathering her thoughts, then delicately set the cup down. "You play the role of the affable old man, and it isn't all an act. You care what happens; you truly do want to stop Hawkmoth and save the world. But your worst enemy in this endeavor is yourself.  You chose children as your champions because you can control them. You don't tell them everything right away and leave them to figure things out on their own, thus making them dependant on you. You don't think they should have the Miraculous they do." Vivi did her best to ignore Ladybug's pained gasp. "Because you don't think anyone should have Miraculouses. You don't trust them in anyone's hands but your own."

"I also know you're upset right now and it's for the completely wrong reason. The fact that I am sitting here telling you this makes me living proof your security has been broken. You should be worrying about contingencies, about whether or not the children are in danger. Instead you see something like a child messing in the cleaning cabinet. Too young to understand what's going on around them and putting themselves in danger. You haven't even asked how I thought we could help."

"The young always want to push things, but Hawkmoth has been stopped at every turn. Slow and steady will prevail." Master Fu smiled genuinely at the bracelet on his wrist. "You do not add the noodles to the pot before the water boils."

"But if you wait till the water boils over, you create a mess and risk someone getting seriously burned." It wasn't Vivi, but Lewis who responded this time.

"Should have known you'd have a cooking metaphor at the ready." Vivi smiled at him fondly. "You won't listen to us, but we are going to help. The sooner you take us seriously, they sooner we can get one step closer to ending Hawkmoth."

"The best way you could help is to stay out of Ladybug and Chat Noir's way. Then they do not have to split their attention between protection and their duty."

"Actually, Master Fu, they helped already." Chat Noir chimed in. "She was the one to destroy the akumatized screwdriver last night." He glanced at Lewis, hoping the actual akuma wasn't offended by the term.

"Accepting one lucky turn as a foregone conclusion is dangerous." Master Fu chided.

Vivi sighed. "I don't think we're going to make any headway tonight. But we've spoken and told you of our intentions, that's enough. Thank you for the tea."

As they got up to leave, Master Fu showed them out. "One idle curiosity, if you don't mind. May I ask his relationship to you?" Master Fu gestured towards Arthur.

"He's my husband," Vivi said airly, leaving a gobsmacked Master Fu in her wake.

~~~~

Ladybug swung away from the most awkward tea in her life, Chat Noir right on her heels.

"Do you think that was a bluff?" Chat Noir asked.

"No,” Ladybug’s voice wavered a bit. “My mother mentioned a tall, dark skinned man today. She didn't mention him being American, but given that he's pretty fluent in French..."

"She might not have even realized." Chat finished. "And she gave a random stranger macarons?"

"Mom likes sharing her baking," Ladybug covered, not wanting to reveal her parents worked in a bakery.

Chat smiled fondly, "Sounds like someone I know from class." That they were both students was clearly out of the bag now.

Huh, wonder who'd just bring macarons to class. I mean I do because my parents own a bakery, but I wonder who else does? "I notice you didn't mention the magic water or Lewis being a real akuma."

"I would have if he tried to ask any follow-up questions, but they were right. Master Fu wasn't going to listen to anything we said." Chat Noir sighed. "I know we have to work with Master Fu, but I think we also need to be ready to work around him."

Ladybug paused on a railing to gather her thoughts. “I hate to have to say it, but you’re right.”

She looked out on the lights of Paris for a long moment, before turning her full attention to Chat Noir. “I am sorry for not telling you about Master Fu before. He— he said it was best... And at the time I believed him.”

“And now you don't?” Chat's green eyes were intent, but thankfully not as wary and guarded as they had been since she had brought Master Fu up.

“No...” She sighed. “I don't know anymore. I think we need his knowledge, but a lot of what Vivi said made sense. Too much sense. Tikki trusts him, but I'm not sure I do anymore. There's a lot more he could have told us even without that impetuousness of youth thing he hinted at tonight.”

“On that, Milady, we are categorically agreed.”

Ladybug laughed. She needed his sense of humor right now to ease the knots in her stomach. “And he was so guarded when he spoke to them. You'd have to have been catatonic to not feel the tension in there tonight,”

Chat's grin widened and he caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I knew you'd fall for my puns sooner or later.”

It actually took her a minute to realize the pun in what she'd said and all her willpower not to facepalm. “Chat!”

~~~~

"Master?" Wayzz's voice was tentative.

Fu closed the door (perhaps just a little too hard) behind his unexpected visitors and threw the bolt. His hands were shaking and he had to pause and will them to stop.

“I do not believe they know what they are getting into, any of them.” Fu kept his voice on an even keel, but inside he was seething. He had given too much to protect the miraculous to see foreigners undo all his hard work, by thinking they could just come in and—

He drew in a deep breath through his nose and slowly let it out in a sigh. “Wayzz, I— I am going to meditate before bed. I trust you can take care of making sure everything is secure?”

“Of— of course, Master.” He didn’t care for the hesitant note in Wayzz’s reply, but he was not going to let it upset him further. He needed to balance his emotions. He needed to meditate.

It did not help. He could only brood on her thinly (and some not so thinly) veiled accusations. After the third attempt to find balance and failing miserably, he knew all he could do was go to bed and hope he would have a clearer head come the morning.

He woke screaming in the cold gray light of pre-dawn, images of the destroyed Temple of the Guardians and his dead brethren swimming behind his eyelids, wordless accusations still ringing in his head. He strangled a sob down before it could escape. He had never felt so out of internal balance, not even back then, when all his attention had been devoted to surviving and protecting the miraculous.

Shaking, he rose from his bed, aching in so many ways, not all of them having to do with age. He needed tea to calm his nerves, and try to find his equilibrium.

He shuffled down to the kitchen, but froze in the doorway of the main room.

Like an accusation, the tea set still sat on the low table.

Rage bubbled in his breast.

Unthinkingly, his hands picked up the insolent girl’s empty teacup. He stared at it for a long moment before hurling it at the wall. Shards went everywhere. "Intruder," he seethed. "She has no idea of what she interferes with." How dare she—?

"Master?" Wayzz woke and hovered over him. “What is it?”

"Interloper!" He fumed. "I learned my lesson well about trusting outsiders at the fall of the Temple!"

“Master—?” Wayzz tried again but Fu was not in any frame of mind to let himself be soothed. “Master, please, you must calm yourself!”

“I will not. She has no right, no knowledge of what she thinks to speak upon—!”

"Master!"

This time the panic in Wayzz's voice got through and Fu looked up from the destroyed cup. Above him a black-winged butterfly fluttered, trailing corruption in the air.

The anger froze into a hard lump of terror in his throat and all he could think was that it must not get to Wayzz or the other miraculous. He snatched up the nearest thing, the cane he used when he needed to appear as a harmless old man, and placed himself between the Akuma and his kwami. It must not infect Wayzz.

He had one last, desperate moment of clear thought and used it to rip the miraculous off his wrist, flinging it away as the butterfly darted toward him. "Wayzz! Hide the box and yourself! Quickly! You must not be taken!"

The cane did him no favors. The black butterfly settled on it and began to meld into it. “No—!” He tried to fling it away but it was already far too late

A seductive voice overrode his will in spite of his struggles. "Grand Master, you know who I am and what I desire, as I know your desire. I will give you the power to protect the miraculous from those who cannot be trusted to protect them."

His last vestige of resistance crumbled under those words.  "Yes. I must take them away. They must be kept safe."

"They will be," Hawkmoth soothed. "Once I have used the miraculous of Ladybug and Chat Noir to make my wish come true, you will be able to take them. You will have the power to keep them safe... forever."

“Yes. Safe, always and forever.”

~~~~

The grin on Hawkmoth's face was truly wicked. When he'd sensed the strong negative emotion all he'd known was it was an old man infuriated by ones younger than him. Instead he'd nabbed a prize he'd never dreamed of— a Guardian. True, with the kwami hiding the other Miraculouses he couldn't simply order them brought to him, but he could wait to find the turtle.

The other Miraculouses were merely icing on the cake. He needed Ladybug's and Chat Noir's. And after Grand Master brought them to him, he'd be able to use the man’s knowledge to give Nooroo even more power.

What a wonderful twist of fate. Now at last, he would have everything he dreamed of.