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loreofthekidults · 4 years ago

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fruit snacks & wonder bread | lee chan

focus: dino

words: 1.7k

genre: stranger things au / high school au / dnd au? / fall themes

description: More stranger things au for the beautiful fall season! This is a continuation/addition to the fic with Jeonghan from week one, but can be read independently. Just piling onto this svt x stranger things universe hoping things make sense. Anyways made it in the nick of time for week two of #caratrevival, whew! This week’s themes were Dino and the lyric « Here’s the baton, man ». Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

(Quick note, I went a bit ham with the dnd game at first because I miss playing, but I tried to edit the scene to be as simple as possible so hopefully it’s not too confusing for non-dnd players. To all dnd players, BSS are all bards and that’s canon.)

____________________

“Don’t forget to say your thank you-s and excuse me-s!”

“Yup!”

“And remember to wash your hands and clean up after yourself!”

“Yup!”

“And also share your snacks with everyone!”

“I know, I know,” Dino swept an armful of fruit snacks off the kitchen counter into his backpack as his mother stood beside him with hands on her hips. “And I know, don’t be too mean to Seungkwan, yup, got to go now!”

Dino rushed out of the kitchen to the back yard and tugged on the door handle to the shed. His bike was leaning against the wall in its usual dusty corner beside the rakes. After retrieving his bike, Dino hurriedly waved to his mother seeing him off through the parlor window. As he reached the line where the grass met the asphalt of the driveway, the garage door grumbled open to his test.

The dingy Ford Station Wagon thrummed to life and slowly backed out into the sunlight. The windows rolled down, and the scream of the electric guitar paired with the bass and snare heartbeat of Prince’s When Doves Cry flew out into the air. Dino’s older brother Jihoon glanced at him in passing as he reversed down the driveway. His friend Wonwoo sat in the passenger seat and nodded at Dino in greeting.

“Where you headed?” Jihoon asked him nonchalantly while twisting around to see if he was going to hit any trees.

“To Seokmin’s. We’re starting up a new campaign.” Dino kept pace next to the car as it crawled down the driveway.

“You guys still play Dungeons and Dragons?” Wonwoo pushed his glasses up. Dino could feel the gentle mockery in Wonwoo’s piercing gaze.

“Yeah, we do. What bingo session are you senior citizens off to join?”

Jihoon snickered and shook a finger at his younger sibling. “What a smartass. Who’s DMing this time? Your campaign sucked last time, hope it’s not you again.”

“You have poor taste in adventure. And Seokmin is.”

“Good. Well have fun, then. Remind Soonyoung that we’re meeting later. And tell him not to be late again.”

“Where are you guys meeting?”

“He’ll know.”

“Come on. Tell me.”

“Bye Channie.” Jihoon gave Dino a curt look before changing gears and turning onto the road. Dino bugged his eyes out at him in retribution.

“See ya, Dino.” Wonwoo raised a hand in goodbye.

They think they’re so cool. Dino smirked internally as the two drove away in the ugly wood-paneled car. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his headphones, attached it to his walkman, and pressed play. The falsetto of Michael Jackson’s Beat It filled his ears. Hopping onto his bike, Dino pedaled furiously in the opposite direction.

Seokmin’s house, only a short 15 minute ride away, was located in a general northern direction from Dino’s home. In between were lengths of forest and hills, and driveways dotted here and there. The schools and hubs of Plediestown were on the other side of town, so this part of the woods was quiet, with only families and farms going about their lives like happy smurfs.

The autumn air had chilled the air and shriveled leaves were sprinkled across the grounds. Another, more attentive person would have better appreciated the gradients of red, burgundy, pumpkin orange, and mustard yellow foliage of the forests around them. The neighborhood contained snapshots comparable to Bob Ross landscapes. But to Dino, this was nothing new to admire, it was just home.

Like Nuest Court, where the houses of the cul-de-sac were clustered together at the bottom of a large hill with the massively old oak tree. It wasn’t just a scenic view, it was where all the kids in the neighborhood went sledding in the winter and played manhunt amongst the fireflies until the summer sun disappeared.

Dino zoomed past the hill, the oak tree standing majestically as ever. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the movement of a figure strolling under the tree.

Is that Minki?? What was he doing here?

Dino blinked furiously. It had been years since the boys of Nuest Court had left town together to follow their dreams in the city. If one of them had returned home, it would have been the buzz of the town. Turning his head, Dino squinted at the lean figure . He had shoulder length black hair, loose-fitting white shirt, thin—honk. HONK.

Whoa.

Dino screeched to a halt and twisted his bike sharply towards the curb. A car drove around Dino, and he saw Seungcheol giving him a happy wave in his sky-blue marching band uniform through the driver’s window. Even with the windows closed, Dino could hear the guy giggle his ridiculous giggle as he passed.

Dino turned his gaze back towards the oak tree atop the Nuest Court hill, but the figure was no longer there.

Oh well. Dino merely shrugged and went along his way. He’d hear about any new visitors sooner or later in this small town.

By the time Dino was pedaling up the driveway to Seokmin’s house, he had all but forgotten about the possible Minki appearance. The garage door rose as he neared the house, and Jeonghan appeared, donning the same ridiculous blue uniform as Seungcheol. Dino threw his bike onto the grass beside their perennial bushes and rushed into the garage, swinging his backpack at Jeonghan.

“Hey Jeonghan. Nice outfit.”

The older boy dodged his attack and called after him, but Dino was already two steps in the house and purposely ignoring him—he hated being babied by Jeonghan. The warmth of the house tickled his cheeks, and he lightly plodded down the familiar stairs into the even toastier basement.

“Eyy Dino!” Hoshi yelled, jumping up from his chair. Vernon raised a hand in greeting. Mingyu and Seungkwan were in the midst of an argument over who’s dice were prettier, so Dino plopped down next to Seokmin, who gave him his trademark sunshine smile and high-fived him.

It wasn’t long before the group huddled seriously around the small table and quickly descended into the magical realm of Seokmin’s imagination.

“The party leaves the inn well stuffed and equipped with shiny new weapons.” Seokmin’s eyes widened dramatically as he narrated the story and built the world up around them. “You all head towards the edge of the forest where the old wizard said the gate to the Noir dimension is located. There is no sign of any life, but there is a stream of gurgling water and trees lined the shoreline. In the shadows of the woods, three—”

“Can I attack the stream?” Hoshi interrupted.

“Why in the world do you want to attack the stream, Soonyoung? It’s not going to do anything,” Seungkwan rolled his eyes and sighed in frustration.

Hoshi stood with one foot on his stool, his chest puffed out, and his imaginary sword in his right hand pointed towards the ceiling. “Because I can!” he laughed mightily.

Mingyu groaned and swiped his hand through his hair impatiently. “We’re not even going to get to start the quest today,” he muttered.

Vernon smiled and shook his head, used to Hoshi’s goofy antics. Seokmin laughed heartily, clearly enjoying this turn of events.

“Ok! Roll to attack!” Seokmin declared.

Hoshi took his d20 and dropped it into the center of the table. “Oyyyy, Nat 20!!!”

“You successfully attack the river!” Seokmin screamed. “Hoshi slices at the water, and you can hear a soft gurgling sound eerily similar to the word ‘ouch’.” Hoshi religiously followed the words of the Dungeon Master and mimed poking his sword at an imaginary river.

Mingyu doubled over cackling and managed to fall off his chair. Vernon was shaking Seungkwan’s shoulder in glee as they both guffawed incredulously.

“What a waste of a nat 20!” Dino exclaimed, but he was struggling to breath from his own shrieks of laughter, too.

Seokmin suddenly slammed his hand on the table, startling everyone into silence. His face grew serious and he looked at everyone with a sinister glare. “Little did you know, the water began to shine and part. A glowing ring with a dark center appeared out of the water and a freezing wind blew out of the circle. Roll for investigation check.”

They each rolled in turn and Hoshi—and only Hoshi—failed the check.

“Alright,” Seokmin rubbed his hands together mischievously. “Everyone but Soonyoung realizes this is a portal to another world. You know, probably the portal you guys were looking for. Soonyoung, on the other hand, thinks it’s a really cool blow dryer and sticks his face through the glowing portal.”

“What do you see in there, Soonyoung?” Dino asked, only half serious.

“I don’t know. It’s really dark, hahaha.”

“Do we have a torch or something?” Mingyu asked.

“I got one. Here’s the baton, man,” Vernon pretends to hand Hoshi the imaginary light source.

“Suddenly, you hear a terrifying ROAR!!!” Seokmin howled at the top of his lungs. Seungkwan hugged Dino in fright.

“And with that, Soonyoung is pulled into the other dimension and the portal closes.” Seokmin sits back down and smiles sweetly at the party, waiting for them to react. They all just stared back at him in shock.

“Dude!” Hoshi broke the silence. “Am I dead?”

“Nope!” Seokmin stated simply and chuckled a bit embarrassedly. “I just didn’t plan for you guys to discover the portal this early, so I needed to get you guys back on track first.”

“But I’m stuck in the other dimension now? Separated from the party???” Hoshi squished his cheeks in despair.

“Don’t worry. You’re fine.” Seokmin laughed and patted his friend’s back reassuringly. “You guys wanna take a quick snack break?”

“Yes please.” Mingyu stood up immediately. Dino peeled Seungkwan off of him and poured his hoard of fruit snacks onto the table.

Hoshi slumped into the sofa dejectedly. “Guess I’ll just sit here and watch you guys play then.”

“Oh right, Soonyoung!” Dino called out as he climbed the stairs to get some more food. “Jihoon said to not forget to meet him and Wonwoo for something. He didn’t tell me where, though. Just make sure to be very late.”

Dino reached the top of the stairs and turned towards the kitchen.

What the—”HEY!” Dino shouted. The rest of the boys clambered up the stairs and peered into the doorway behind him.

An unfamiliar boy stood beside the counter stuffing his face with wonder bread and the leftover chili. He was dressed in a wrinkled white hospital gown that reached mid-thigh and thin pajama pants with dirt smudges all over. His long jet-black hair hung limply, and as he reached his hand out to grab another piece of bread, the kitchen light shined down onto his thin forearm. Along the inside of his wrist, the inky numbers stood out against his pale skin: 008.

Dino gasped.

“You’re the Minki impersonator!”

#caratrevival #seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #dino #stranger things au #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #dino fanfiction #my writing #svt #dino imagines #seventeen imagines #lee chan #whew #this was close #fic #writing #kpop fanfic

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martellthemandalor · 4 years ago

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Assistance - Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (No Y/N, reader is nicknamed)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drugs, fire, Mando is too stubborn for his own good

Rating: 15

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Mando has no self preservation instincts and the sunset takes you back to a less than pleasant memory.

A/N: This is possibly my favourite chapter i’ve written yet, feedback is always appreciated!

Masterlist!

You’d left the soft comfort of the forest a long while back, and now the glaring sun was beating down onto the two of you once again, leaving you damp and antsy under the heat. You hooked your fingers into the neckline of the thin cotton that lay beneath your heavy armour and tugged on it gently, hoping to displace it from the sheen of sweat that had settled across your chest and provide some small relief.

The sparse conversation between you and the Mandalorian had died since emerging into the swelter, both of you saving energy to just keep on walking. You had been rationing out drinking your supply of water, savouring every sweet drop your pouches gave you. You thanked Maker for the hot afternoon that you had spent on Felucia upgrading them to have heat exchange apparatus with spare coolant system parts from Astrid, for it meant that where you would have been desperately drinking lukewarm water to stay hydrated you could now ration it out further due to the cool liquid being more refreshing.

Where you had been drinking regularly however, your assistant for this quarry had not been. And while you weren’t known for you caring nature, you knew you’d feel a modicum of guilt if Tin Can died in the middle of nowhere with only you for company.

“You should drink something,” You stated to him.

“I’m fine,” he responded, his voice sounding rougher than before through the vocoder. You stopped walking and rolled your eyes at him, swaying your whole head with the motion, turning to face him.

“Yeh you sound it,” you griped, holding out your water pouch to him “Just take it, I’ll walk ahead- I won’t look,” You emphasised when he held up his hand to interrupt you. Stepping forward you thrust the pouch onto his chest, watching him grasp it to his chest when you released your grip. You didn’t waste any time in turning back to the path your eyepiece was showing you and walking ahead. You almost screamed in frustration when you felt him grip your forearm and shove the pouch back into your hand.

“I don’t need it.”

You could’ve punched him honestly. How much of a laserbain was he? You could hear in his voice how much he needed it. Your patience was already stretched thin being on damn rock, you didn’t need a stubborn Tin Can making your life harder. You span on your heel, jabbing your finger into his chest, leaning forward so close to his visor you swore you could hear his breathing.

“Banthashit Mandalorian. What do you think I’m giving you the water for huh? It’s not out of the kindness of my bleeding heart, I’d like you alive for this fucking quarry because your assistance is valuable. If you want to kill yourself by dehydrating yourself on this Maker forsaken dirtball then go ahead, I don’t give two bantha ticks but know I’m not dragging your body back to the city, I will leave you out here to rot. Whether you live or die is on you, so which is it?” You hissed at him, punctuating your points by pushing your finger into his chest harder and harder, making him rock backwards.

The silence between you was deafening, a stubborn standoff of metal and flesh and you could swear you could feel his stare scorching against your own. Maker above you were damn sure you weren’t going to back down first. You felt the grip on your forearm lessen slowly, stars had he really kept his grip on you this long?

You turned the hand holding the water pouch palm up, letting the white plastic and circuitry rest across the circumference of your splayed fingers. Your gazes never left each other, not for a second, and you could feel his eyes locked firmly onto yours through that expressionless visor. An eternity seemed to pass by before the pressure of the pouch lifted off your hand and his grip on your arm disappeared completely. You took a step back and cleared your throat.

“Good choice.” You turned away from him and started walking away, following the blue line that mapped out your path.

The Mandalorian watched as you walked away, looking for any sign that were going to turn back and look, but true to your word you kept you head straight, walking a steady pace that he could easily catch up to. Once sure that there was no one else around, he slowly lifted his helmet, exposing his skin to the blazing sun. Without the protection of his visor the glare of the star flooded his vision with light, causing his eyes to sting.

Time was of the essence here, he knew that, so he made quick work of opening the catch at the top of the pouch and drinking as much as his stomach could hold. It wasn’t his intention to drink most of it, but once the water hit his tongue it felt like pure spice that spread across his being, and just like spice it was impossible to stop taking until it was too much.

He wiped his mouth unceremoniously with the back of his gloved hand before leaning down to pick up his helmet from where it nestled into the mottled crimson and ochre grass. Straightening up he positioned on the crown on his head, ready for it to resume its usual place, when he paused. His eyes swept the terrain, taking in as much of the beautifully vibrant colour that the heads up display in his helmet usually denied him. He sighed, gently pushing the metal casing over his head, feeling it settle back into place. This is the way, he harshly reminded himself as he set off after you.

You had kept your pace steady, eyes locked on the path ahead. Once you were sure you were far enough away from the Mandalorian you looked to the floor and pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Of all the damn Mandalorian’s to employ, you’d managed to find the one with no self-preservation instincts at all. Your heart was still beating hard after your patience had snapped, so you tried to content yourself by listening to the sounds around you.

You weren’t surprised that there wasn’t many, the rustling of leaves in the bushes and the occasional call of a Calenowa bird was all there really was. Detsak wasn’t exactly known for its vibrant wildlife anymore, which you were more than fine with. Now however you could hear rhythmic footsteps getting closer, he must be running because up until this point you’d never heard evidence of movement from him. As he drew up alongside your eye was caught by the motion of the cape.

You had to admit that as impractical as it was, you did like the look. His arm extended to you, holding the mostly empty white pouch out level to your stomach as you walked, once again, in sync. You took it off his hands, raising an eyebrow at him as you felt how much lighter it was.

“Thank you,” He said sincerely, his rich toned voice now returned, “Sorry I drank most of it, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Its fine, you needed it.” A smug ‘I told you so’ smile started to tug at the corners of your lips as you took the pouch from his leather clad hand and clipped it back onto your thigh holster. It never managed to play across your full face though, as a rhythmic and loud beeping piped into your ear making you jump. You froze, arm flying out towards the Mandalorian causing him to stop too, and looked around the field, eyes locking ahead at the many blinking dots now showing on your eyepiece display. Mother of moons. They filled the next field, the one you and your assistant were mere seconds away from crossing into.

“What’s wrong,” the Mandalorian queried.

“We can’t go through this field, hang on let me calibrate another route,” You responded calmly, ignoring the spike in your heartrate you began manipulating the control panel on your cuff, inputting new instructions.

“Why? We can pass right through this field its clear,”

“No it isn’t,” you sharply responded. You input the last of the commands and watched as your display changed, you turned until you were facing the new direction of the blue line. Shifting your focus beyond it you could see it was leading you down a narrow track which was lined by tall thick bushes and shaded by trees. Perfect, you thought, at least this meant you’d both be in the shade again to. It would of course extend your journey, you weren’t sure how much by, but it was a small price to pay all things considered. “This way,” You stated as you began walking.

“There’s nothing in that field,” He protested, not following after you. Maker above why can’t he just listen to you? You turned to him, running a hand through your hair as sighed.

“That whole field is made up of Letaph, otherwise known as the grasping soil, some fields on this planet are made up of it, you go in there and you’re not coming out, now come on,” you ordered, continuing to walk towards the secluded path. He knew he didn’t have a choice and while he suspected you were lying to him again, you were the one in charge here and if he wanted to get paid he had to follow your orders. He caught up to you; his long quite strides meant he drew up beside you quickly. Once you hit the shade of the trees you were both hit with a wave of relief, finally shaded from the unforgiving sun again.

You much preferred it here, the muted tones were a welcome calm from the abrasive bold colour of the fields. By this point you and Tin Can had been walking all day and you would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t tired.

You wondered if the Mandalorian was feeling the same, but you didn’t have the energy to start a conversation, especially in the knowledge that you would be doing 90% of the talking. Another hour or so had passed by when you spotted the end of the track, an opening bathed orange light from the slowly sinking sun. You thought your eyes were playing tricks on you, but when you zoomed in on the horizon using the eyepiece your suspicions were confirmed.

“Mandalorian, there’s a barn at the end of the track,” You commented, nudging your assistant in the arm and nodding in the direction of the opening. He was silent for a moment, visor fixated on the distance.

“You’re right, what are you thinking?” He queried, looking across at you.

“Seems like a good place to stop for the night, better than trying to camp out in the middle of a field somewhere,”

“Agreed.”

Upon reaching the barn you and the Mandalorian had discovered that is was part of a small farm. You had told the Mandalorian to stand behind you and not speak while you knocked on the door and spoke to the owners, a young couple and their parents. You asked if you and the Mandalorian could stay the night in the barn, telling them that you both had been walking all day and it would be a galaxy’s gift if you could rest somewhere warm and dry, and that you could pay.

When asked why you were out here you span a spiel about tracking down long lost family, about a sister who ran away to here with her lover so they could start again and how desperate you were to find her. They didn’t ask any questions beyond that, said that you were welcome to use the barn and even invited the two of you in for some warm bone broth.

You could practically feel the Mandalorian’s spirit drop, yet another meal he couldn’t partake in, so you politely declined the offer of coming in, instead asking if you could take some to the barn to eat there. The family were more than happy with that, and sent you to the barn with two big bowls of broth, mugs of Krilten juice along with blankets and pillows.

That’s how you got to where you were now, sat beside the wooden doors of the barn, making sure no one went in, eating your warm bone broth and watching the sun set across the fields. You scraped the last of the broth out of the bowl, making sure to get every last drop. Sure you had enough food for the journey, but nothing shaped up to the homemade soup you had just consumed. Resting your head against the rough mud wall, you let yourself get lost in the colours unfolding in front of you.

The sky had gone from a brilliant blue to layers of a soft gradient, from the hot crimson of the sun spreading out to a soft gold tinge that unfurled across open expanse above you. You let your eyes drift shut, the soft warmth of the evening and the gentle breeze passing across your body relaxing you more than you thought you could on a planet like this. It could almost be called peaceful.

That was until the red light behind your eyes and the heat of the sun against your eyelids slid you deep into your memory.

Flames. It was all you could see. Reaching and curling all around you. The searing fury of their tendons licking against your skin as you tried to run, painting your complexion with angry blemishes of scarlet. It didn’t matter though, none of it mattered, you just had to get them, get close to them. Save them. Those words imprinted on your memory forever, chanted again and again like a prayer. Save them. Run faster, fight harder, aim better. Save th-

The squeak of the door opening next to you jolted you from your daydream, startling you to sit bolt upright. You looked down at your trembling hands, folding them in your lap to try and stem the visible shaking as the Mandalorian’s familiar frame poked out of the door.

“You can come back in if you want, thank you for sitting out here,” He spoke, his tone gentle through the vocoder. You gave him a small smile, then got up on unstable legs, picked your bag up and followed him into the barn.

Next Chapter

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alj4890 · 6 years ago

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And Then I Met You

Part 8

What happens when the one you thought you were meant for turns out to be meant for someone else?

@walkerinfolkvangr @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @fullbeaumonty @cocomaxley @darley1101 @hopefulmoonobject @krsnlove @littleblossom357 @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @bella-ca

Masterlist

Part 8

Thomas rolled over and woke up after encountering something sharp. He opened his eyes and looked down. His new wife had extremely pointy elbows. Amanda was sleeping on her stomach and her face was turned toward him. Her arms were bent under her pillow, thus poking him in the chest. He gently smoothed the hair out of her face.

"It's too early." She mumbled as she clutched her pillow tighter.

He checked the time and had to agree with her. "Go back to sleep." He whispered and kissed the top of her head. She smiled sleepily and turned over. He tried to go back to sleep but he began to think of all they needed to do and got up. He closed the bedroom door behind him and ordered coffee from room service.

Thomas checked his phone and frowned. It seemed that his marriage was the top news story on every major media outlet. The press was incredulous that he and Amanda had managed to have a romance without anyone catching on. Some were already speculating on an annulment being announced within the next few weeks. He turned the TV on and encountered a morning show discussing the two of them.

I'm telling you, they had to be drunk when they made the decision. She's a *beep* duchess! Did you see the wedding she hosted for her best noble pal? I couldn't even afford a napkin from the place! There is no way in hell she would agree to have her "actual wedding" in some county clerks office in Reno. You know what else is suspicious? Not one friend was there. None of her close circle of Cordonian friends. None of Hunt's Hollywood royalty. And when and where have the dates occurred? I'm starting to suspect this is nothing but a media campaign to generate interest in their collaboration on The Earl's Undoing. Coming up after the break, our panel of experts will weigh in on how the couple will divide their fortunes during the divorce.

He flipped to another station and froze when he saw a picture of them walking through the lobby of the hotel after the ceremony.

Look at her face. Zoom in Craig. See that. It looks like tears had previously fallen. Were those happy tears at getting married or something else? Now zoom in there. Could that be a baby bump under that sundress? Maybe that was the reason for the hasty marriage. I mean they have been working long hours together. How much you want to bet there was more going down than words? Have you seen him in swim trunks? I can imagine the duchess getting a little--

He turned the tv off and ran his hands through his hair. They had their work cut out to convince the world that this marriage was done for love. At least...he hoped that would end up being the truth. They would have to go somewhere for the most romantic honeymoon the media had ever seen.

He let out a frustrated groan when he pulled up a bridal website that listed one hundred of the most romantic honeymoon destinations. He needed help. He stared at the bedroom door and decided to call Holly.

"Thomas? What time is it? Is something wrong?"

"My apologies. I know it is early but I need you to," he looked up at the ceiling hoping to not hear any silly comments, "find me the most romantic place to take Amanda for our honeymoon. We--"

Holly squealed in his ear. "That is so sweet! Is it going to be a surprise? When will you want to leave? Should Addison have a wardrobe ready specifically for the trip for Amanda? Ahh! Do you want beach or city? Mountain getaway? Nature or museums? Europe or---"

"Talk it over with Addison. Do your research. I want to leave as soon as possible. I know we need the most photogenic place. The media is ready to see the marriage fail and we need to show them how wrong they are."

"Will do boss! Don't worry. We will prove the naysayers wrong. You two were made for each other." She hung up and got straight to work. She called her partner in crime. "Addison! Operation Honeymoon has commenced and we get to plan it!" She quickly pulled her phone from her ear as her friend screamed. "OMG! I AM ON MY WAY OVER!"

Thomas set the phone down and poured a cup of coffee. He walked out on the balcony and admired the views of Lake Tahoe. He heard the click of cameras and let out a sigh. He made sure to have a small smile on his face, hoping he looked like a groom that had woken up from an amazing wedding night.

Amanda opened up her eyes and stared at her phone that continuously lit up and vibrated. There were missed calls from Maxwell and hundreds of notifications. Her Twitter account had been flooded with messages. She read through some and felt discouraged. So many were questioning the happiness of her marriage and if it was legitimate. She finally read through the messages from Maxwell. He urged her to call him.

She sighed and pressed his number.

"Amanda! Why have you not picked up? I have called and called." Maxwell felt the guilt build as he thought of Olivia's conversation.

Amanda glared at the ceiling. "For one thing, it was my wedding night while you were calling. So I was a little busy with my husband." She and Thomas might not have consummated their marriage, but that didn't mean the night had held no romance. Plus it wasn't any of Maxwell's business.

He blushed as he paced. He did not want to think about her sex life. He needed to help her without her knowing he knew how she felt. He would never want to hurt her by telling her he never felt that way. He adored her. She was the perfect best friend. That was why he had to get her out of this impulsive marriage.

"I think you should return home immediately."

"What? Why?" She sat up as panic set in. "Has something happened at St Orella? Is my home okay?!"

"Everything is fine there. At least it was when I was last out there a few days ago. I think you need to come home to protect yourself."

"Protect myself? From what?" Amanda got up and began to pace, feeling the anger build.

Maxwell took a deep breath, hoping she would listen to reason. "From the media. When you and Thomas spilt up, they will be out for blood, your blood. We can make sure they leave you alone and--"

"Are you seriously still saying I made a mistake?! Maxwell, I am crazy about Thomas. He has made me smile more times each day I have been with him than any other man has ever managed. He is a gentleman and a sweetheart to me. I am more than happy I married him. And I believe he would say the same."

"Yes I would."

Amanda spun around to see Thomas leaning against the door frame. Her heart skipped about as his dark eyes focused on her. "I...I have to go. I have a honeymoon to begin." She ended the call before Maxwell could argue.

_____________________________

He stared in surprise at her hanging up on him again. Nadia sat across from him, worried about Amanda and Maxwell's friendship. She had fought with her best friend, Damien, over marrying Maxwell so quickly. They had made up easily. Damien never could resist her sad puppy eyes mixed with a healthy dose of guilt trip. Perhaps something like that would help Maxwell and Amanda. She knew her husband was concerned about her sudden marriage, but Nadia was a hopeless romantic and wanted to believe that their friend had found her happy ending.

She hugged Maxwell and encouraged him. "Give Amanda some space. Let her have her honeymoon without any negative comments. The media is already attacking them and it isn't right!" Nadia was ready to hip throw some of the more insulting reporters. Maxwell chuckled at her fierce expression and kissed her.

"Very well. I'll try and keep a positive attitude about their marriage. I'm still worried, but I will stop arguing with her." For now, he thought. If she would only come home, then maybe the group as a whole could convince her.

_________________________________

Thomas slipped his arms around Amanda. When he walked in and heard her arguing about how happy she was with him, he felt the negative remarks and stories he had seen earlier disappear from his mind. He kissed her cheek and asked if she would like to leave today. "The press has been snapping pictures of me outside. We can go home and pack for our honeymoon."

"Where are we going?" She asked

"It's a surprise." He chuckled at her groan.

After multiple failed attempts at cajoling, she gave up and attempted to move out of his arms to change clothes. She giggled as he kissed her neck while holding her tight. She felt the shift from playful to serious as his lips continued to explore her sensitive neck.

He thoroughly tested each spot, committing to memory the ones that made her move closer against him. When she turned her head and met his lips, he slowly ended the session. Her hazel eyes had darkened to a deep forest green with her passion. He swallowed and pressed another kiss to her lips, knowing he was pushing his own limit. He loosened his arms and let them slowly slip down her hips.

"I'll order some breakfast while you change." His voice had deepened when she moved her hands over his chest to wrap around his neck. She nodded while staring at his lips. He took a step back and hit the wall. She stumbled against him and grinned flirtaiously.

"Is this a preview of --" Her phone began to ring with a tone Thomas had never heard before. She froze and reached for it.

"Sir Frances? Is there a problem?" She listened and relaxed. "Of course. Yes, he and I are truly married. I'm sorry I didn't think to call yesterday."

Sir Frances swallowed nervously as Drake loomed over him with arms folded. "Your grace, there are documents that need to be signed by both you and Mr. Hunt. I would prefer to do so in person so that we can discuss his new position and such. Is there any chance you could come back to Cordonia for a day or two to handle these?"

Amanda assured him that they would find the time to do so. He thanked her and hung up. Drake relaxed his stance. "Thank you. We need to meet the man who convinced her to marry him. If he married her for prestige or her fortune..." His fists clinched as he thought of her being taken advantage of. He had been worried about Liam being taken in. He never dreamed he should have been looking out for Amanda. The one time she left their group and she gets married. He had assumed she was the sensible one.

"Looks like we will need to take a detour to Cordonia either before our mysterious honeymoon or after." She explained the reason and began to get excited. "This will give me a chance to show you my home, or rather our home there." She thought of her last conversation with Maxwell and decided to delay going home for as long as we can. “Let’s go on our honeymoon first.”

While she dressed, Thomas relayed the sudden added destination to Holly. She and Addison spoke to him about what they had found. "I really think if you want the press to have easy access, then you need to go somewhere like Paris or Venice. Romantic and picture perfect." Holly clicked between the two destinations.

"I was hoping for Bora Bora, but she's right. This way you can be seen doing many activities." Addison let out a little sigh at the beautiful beach. It would have been perfect.

Thomas told them to take care of everything for Paris. Their excitement over his decision was cut off by Amanda coming out with her bags. He told the two they would see them in a few hours and ended the call. He reached for her bags and grinned when she dropped them and moved into his arms.

"No hint at all?" She asked again.

"Something tells me you do not handle waiting on surprises well."

"What gave it away?" She ran her hands along his arms. "One hint, that's all I ask."

"Any type of hint?" She nodded. He looked away from her while he thought. "Here's your hint: You need a passport for it."

"You're evil! Of course I would need a passport! I need one everywhere I go that isn't my own country." Her laughter made him smile.

They left Tahoe an hour later. Some of the press cornered them outside the airport and they smiled and told them how happy they were together. Once back home, they received their itinerary from Holly, making Amanda gasp in pleasure at their destination. Addison dragged her away and helped her pack everything she had selected for her to wear on her honeymoon.

Amanda held up the lacy lingerie and cocked her eyebrow. The bubbly blonde winked and giggled at Amanda's blush. "This," she held an elegant red gown with a lace bodice, "is meant for a special night out. It is my favorite and I think it will capture the perfect romance for your honeymoon."

Amanda hugged her, thanking her for everything. They finished packing and went downstairs with the bags. Thomas rushed over and took them off their hands. With a hug to Holly, she followed him to the waiting car. Before she knew it, they were in the private jet and on their way to Paris.

They spent part of the flight, relaxing and watching an old Bette Davis movie, Jezebel, together. They discussed the similarities and differences between it and Gone With The Wind . Thomas paused in a speech he had given to his students about this very argument when he noticed Amanda's grin. He blushed and apologized for going on and on, earning him a kiss on the cheek and her saying she found it interesting.

As night fell outside, she reclined her seat and stretched out. Thomas had been steadily working for a couple of hours. He was going back and forth between handwritten notes and what she had recently typed. She curled up on her side and observed him. His intense focus on whatever held his interest fascinated her. He could tune everything out and give whatever he was looking at his complete attention.

A shiver went down her spine as she thought of the times she had been at the center of such focus. His dark brown eyes made her lose her train of thought when they settled on her, especially now that they were well on their way to exploring being married. She wondered what their honeymoon would reveal. Were they possibly setting themselves up for heartache? What if one fell in love and the other realized they wanted out of the marriage? She forced those type of thoughts from her mind and let out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes.

Without a word, Thomas pushed his work back and retrieved a blanket and pillow. He covered her up as she placed the pillow under her head. He let his fingers brush her cheek when she thanked him and returned back to their screenplay. A smile was still on her lips as she drifted off to sleep with the thought that maybe his attention wasn't completely on his work after all.

#thomas hunt #choices rcd #maxwell x nadia #thomas hunt x oc #thomas x amanda

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cherrysnowclone · 8 years ago

Text

[Valentine's Meihem] You're My Flame

Gift for @reaper-botherer

I could not ask for a more perfect recipient, and I tried very hard to write something delightful for you. It really helped that you had great suggestions for what you wanted - I went with the one about Mei and Jamie cooking, and put my own spin on it. I hope you have a wonderful day!

Summary: Mei attempts to surprise Jamie with a meal while they are out on a mission - but when Mei hurts herself and Jamie steps in to help out, they end up surprising each other.

About 5000 words; only fic warning is one really terrible pun early on.

Incredibly, impossibly, dangerously outdated appliances. Mei didn’t know that until too late.

The pan finally finished tumbling on the floor, and clattered to a stop against a cabinet. The half-cooked beef roast sat on its side on the linoleum floor. Some of the juice slowly pooled around it. Mei, who had sunk to her knees on the floor, could only regard it sadly as she cradled her right hand to her chest.

The door from the den slammed open, opposite from where she sat in the small kitchen. Jamison lept out from the dark, wearing only his pajama pants, and his hair somehow even more disheveled after sleeping, all of it smashed towards the right.

“Heard screamin’!” He waved around a bronze lamp in one hand, and looked around the room wildly. “Who is it? Lemme at ‘em!”

“Nobody’s here.” She sniffled, and dabbed her eyes with her sleeve. “I just hurt myself.”

“Hurt?” He set the lamp on the counter behind him and took a knee beside her. “How? Where?”

Mei bit on her lip, trying to keep down more crying. She drew her hand from her chest and splayed it open - most of her hand was bright red, except for her palm and fingers. The skin cracked a blistering white.

His face also blanched, once he got a good look at her injury. Jamie’s hands twitched in midair, like he wanted to do something but had no idea what. “Uh…I see…we gotta take care of that…”

“I know. Snowball?” Her little robot woke himself up out of his charging dock, set in the corner. It hovered over, looked at her hand and beeped in sympathy. Then, Snowball blew layers of frost over her palm and fingers, until her whole right hand was covered in a translucent glove of ice. Within a few moments, her hand numbed, and she didn’t feel anything at all, not pain or anything else. It’d heal better like this, but it also left her hand basically useless. Snowball chirped, spinning around her hand to celebrate a job well done, then drifted back to his charging station to get some more energy for tomorrow.

She sighed, and realized that Jamie still was beside her, his hands wringing anxiously. She wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks with her uninjured hand, and tried to crack a small smile for him.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m okay. Besides being clumsy, and an idiot.” She pulled her knees up against her chest and sighed again, this time towards the roast on the floor. “The stoves I am used to cook only the food, not the pan too. I did not realize this old thing was so different. So I started cooking, and wanted to see how it was doing, and grabbed the pan, and…”

“Was nice and hot, seems like.”

“Yes.” Unsaid, she wondered if he thought she was a moron. Even though she didn’t register the pain anymore, Mei’s nerves still rattled, and she struggled to fully regain her composure.

Jamie, still crouched beside her, poked at the oozing beef chuck with a metal finger. “Didn’t even know we had food like this around.”

Of course he didn’t know. After they returned from scouting the nearby forest, he took his usual afternoon nap, and Mei seized her chance to be alone. She raced to the closest little grocer she could find, and bought the roast as well as some other fresh food, since Reinhardt’s cabin seemed to have none. The rice was already done, and rested in the cooker. She had garnishes for the meat, and some greens in the fridge. It was all supposed to be a surprise. He was supposed to wake up to the smell of a wonderful dinner, not to her childish screaming.

Mei pressed her forehead to her knees. “I’m sorry. I was really hoping for a special meal.”

Jamie tilted his head at her. “Why you apologizin’ to me about that?” But she couldn’t respond to him, and just hugged her knees closer to herself.

She heard him stand up, pace around the kitchen a bit. He tossed the pan into the metal sink, then paced a bit around her, then the roast.

“Ughn! You’re acting like you ruined the thing.” Jamie lifted the roast, which was about the size of a small bag of rice, and threw it onto the counter. By the time Mei lifted her face from her knees, he had found an automatic carving knife, and sliced off the long, flat part of the roast that had touched the floor. “That good?”

“I…I guess.” If it were only her own night she ruined, Mei would’ve dumped the roast in the trash and ordered some pizza instead. Now, with Jamie around, she had to be more careful about food waste - even if the meat was lab-grown, she knew it was more than he ever even seen growing up. He looked over the oven now, opening the door and looking inside, closed the door, and considered the control panel carefully.

“Bleh.” He threw the knobs of the oven all to OFF. “Forget it. If you couldn’t make it go, I don’t stand a chance.”

“I was able to make it work, I just-

He wasn’t listening. He just continued to think out loud, tapping his lip and pacing around the kitchen. “How about a blowtorch? Or a small flamethrower? Or…oh!”

She dropped her knees to her side, and twisted around to watch him. “What is it?”

He threw the side door open, looked out, and apparently saw something among the snow and forest that made his grin fire up to 100%. “Ah, there’s one!”

“Jamie?” But he was gone, through the door and out into the late afternoon chill. She sighed deeply, and considered her frozen hand while she waited for him to come back in.

Had he gone to grab something from the truck? But the minutes drew out and he hadn’t returned. Mei had just managed to pull herself up from the floor when she heard a great electric roar, and the scream of metal.

“Jamie?!”

She ran outside in time to see two halves of an old steel beer barrel fall apart into a top and a bottom half, and Jamie laughing among the shower of sparks that sprayed across the snow. Still without his shirt, or sock or shoe for that matter, he pumped the whirring wireless buzzsaw over his head triumphantly, like a prize.

A fainting spell passed over Mei, swaying her on her feet. She braced herself in the doorframe, and after a moment, made herself call, “What are you doing?”

“You’ll love it!” he yelled back, not answering her question at all. He turned off the saw and ran it back to the shed, and returned with a hammer. He ignored the top half of the beer barrel, but the lower half he pinned to the ground with his peg leg, then cracked the hammer against the walls of the barrel, widening it. He ended up with something almost bowl-shaped, with the rounded flat bottom of the barrel still intact. It looked about the size of an open umbrella when he was done with it.

He kicked the snow off of some logs, and Mei didn’t realize until now that those logs were arranged in a circle around a slightly depressed pit. Jamie lifted the half-barrel over his head, showing it off to her apparently, and then set it over the center of the little fire area.

“A grate! Get me a grate!”

“I’m getting you a coat first.”

He sprinted back into the kitchen, zooming right past Mei. He opened the oven door, and wrestled out one of the wire racks. Mei managed to throw a jacket over Jamie’s shoulders as he ran back out the door - one of Reinhardt’s jackets, in dark brown suede - which draped off of his thin frame like a cloak. He wouldn’t wait long enough for his shoe and sock, so she tossed them out the door after him.

“Slow down! Jamie, what has gotten into you?”

He cackled brightly. “We’re gonna make fire, woman!” Jamie pointed to Mei as she watched him from the side door. “Grab me the meat and a beer!”

“Get it yourself, you Neanderthal.”

“Oh! Funny you mention that…” His eyes positively glowed and his grin spanned his face. “I think you’ll find out that I’m more of a… barbe-que-barian!”

Mei threw up her hands and shut the door on him. His ringing laughter followed her around the kitchen.

She hadn’t considered a meal outside, not in this winter, but since he seemed committed to it, she now wondered what they would need. She filled a tray with things: the rice she made, salt and spices and sauce she bought at market, four bowls, utensils, gloves, napkins. A teapot filled with water, tea and some mugs. After she had gathered the things, she drew on her own coat and boots, and went outside again.

He had dragged a flat crate close to the pit, apparently as a prep table. She set the tea, rice, and all the utensils on it, then on her second trip, she brought the beef chuck on a cutting board, and the knife next to it.

Mei looked into the barbecue pit and winced. It seemed that while she was in the kitchen, he had dumped a pile of scrap and debris into the bottom of the half-barrel, apparently not checking to see if it was all burnable first. So she pulled out the varnished wood and plastic scraps she’d rather not have burning up and releasing carcinogens into the meal. But Stuttgart’s forest was old and filled with fallen branches and logs, and he easily found more fuel. Jamie basically skipped back to the pit with a new pile of wood, and used a knife to hack the damp bark off of them.

Reinhardt must have been fond of his fire pit. After digging around the shed for a few minutes, Mei found a bundle of dried almond wood, some metal skewers, a fire extinguisher (she sighed in relief at that one), and a leather satchel filled with grilling utensils. She gathered them up and deposited them next to Jamie, who knelt by the pit arranging the logs and the quick-burning trash. She sank onto a log and exhaled deeply, exhausted by all this unexpected work just to get a meal going.

“I hope this is safe,” she said.

“Course it is. I’m an expert!” He shot her a thumbs-up - the tip of his metal thumb, of course, flipped back to expose an open flame. He put his hand in the barbeque bowl and lit up the balled-up newspapers and paper trash in there.

She poured herself some tea, and watched him work for a little while. Over the time she had known him, she discovered that if he had something to focus all of his attention on, a lot of his erratic tics seemed to melt away. He deftly cut the roast into thin strips, hand moving smoothly from cut to cut, and then threaded the meat onto metal skewers. He clapped his hands when he was done, all the skewers arranged in a line on the cutting board.

“I put some spice on the roast already,” Mei said. “Did you want more?”

“Oh yeah, way more.” He looked over the arrangement she had though, and uncertainty crossed his brow. “Ain’t sure what all this is though.”

She extended a spoon to him. “Let’s experiment then.”

It was slow going with only one hand, but Mei poured or shook out a little bit of each of the flavorings, one by one, and had them taste it off the spoon. What he liked, she mixed together in one of the bowls she brought out.

“This one,” he said, pointing at the dark sauce bottle she had him sample. “Whassat?”

“Hoisin.”

“Hoisin,” he repeated. “That’s a good one. Lotsa that.”

“Good.” She would have cried if she had to have roast without it. Next was some hot sauce, which she dabbed delicately onto the spoon and extended to him. “How hot should it be?”

“As hot as it gets.” He brushed aside the offered spoon, and waggled his eyebrows at her. “How much fire do you think you can handle, sweets?”

Mei stared him down, matching his suggestive look with a bland, stoic one of her own. Then, while holding his gaze, she poured an extremely generous measure of the hot sauce into the bowl. “There.”

He laughed aloud in his seat, his feet stomping into the dirt and snow. “I love it!” he hollered, apparently to the trees and forest around them. “This peach is a spitfire!”

She shook her head, a blush finally rising to her cheeks. “You are so embarrassing.”

“Yeah?” He grinned. “Who’s to know?”

Eventually the marinade was finished, a goopy, thick dark mess. Jamie tested a dab of it and practically shivered. With care and focus again, he brushed the marinade over the strips, then set them over the grill, one at a time. Though the fire looked lower than before, it still burned incredibly hot, because the meat started sizzling in no time. Mei had been too busy before to notice how incredibly hungry she felt right now.

“Wow.”

He picked up a skewer with his metal hand, and spun around a pair of metal chopsticks in his other. He expertly plucked the meat off the skewer with the chopsticks, and offered it to Mei. “Here’s some for ya.”

She extended her bowl towards him, and let him pile the steaming, delicious looking grilled meat over her rice. Before she could tear into it herself, Jamie snatched up a small piece of beef in his chopsticks and hovered it in front of her face. “Say ‘ah’.”

“Ah.”

“Now say ‘ooooh, Mr. Fawkes~ You’re so handsome and talented.’”

She didn’t, she was too busy chewing. She had to fan her mouth against the heat. “Jamie,” she managed to say, “this is-”

Branches snapped and snow crashed down somewhere high in the trees behind them. In the back of her mind, Mei knew that she should expect this, but still ended up surprised at the loud thud that thundered the ground a few meters behind them. A silhouette appeared through the brush, and strode with heavy, armored steps towards the glow of the fire pit.

The figure took off her helmet. Though thin, dark blue fabric protected the lower half of her face from the cold, absolutely no one could mistake this woman’s sharp eyes, her udjat tattoo.

“Fareeha.” Mei stood up from her log. She hid her iced hand behind her back, deciding that she was not ready to explain it yet. “How did your scouting go?”

“Surprisingly well. There are some promising locations for us to dig up tomorrow.”

There was a secret directive hidden in the code of the sentry robots that were deployed here in the outskirts of Stuttgart, a secret Overwatch only got wind of within the last week. Mei had asked Zenyatta, carefully, to probe Bastion’s memory for any hint of what it had forgotten, but Bastion had rewritten so much of itself, and the data was gone. The rewrite was a wonder of Bastion’s free will, of course, but the loss of its data made Overwatch’s investigation all the more difficult. Recovering other sentry bot from Eichenwalde might help them crack the code.

But someone else was now spiriting away the other broken bots, it seemed. After twenty years of leaving them to rust, someone only now found it urgent to take the remaining sentries away. But who, and why? Mei hoped they could recover a robot before she got the chance to find out.

Only Mei gave Fareeha a standing welcome. Jamie glanced over his shoulder instead, a nervous habit of his. Mei knew who he looked for, but Roadhog wasn’t even on the same continent as them right now. Jamie instead grunted and shoved his hands into his coat’s pockets, and slumped into his seat even deeper. He didn’t want Fareeha to notice him, and she never wanted to talk to him.

The captain was still for a few moments, considering the scene carefully. Mei realized she was staring at the fire pit, and the collection of Reinhardt’s barbeque gear next to it.

“Are you alright?” Mei asked.

“Ah, yes. This just brought back some memories.” Fareeha sat down on one of the logs, and set her helmet on the seat next to her. “I didn’t expect to come home to such a…rustic meal.”

“I bought some things in town,” Mei explained. She found the third bowl she had filled with rice, and extended it to the captain. “I had enough of the rations, and wanted to make something special.”

“A welcome surprise in weather this cold.”

Fareeha picked few skewers off the sizzling grate, then slid the beef slices on top of her rice, like Mei’s. She cut them into smaller portions with her chopsticks, then scooped up a mouthful into her mouth. Her eyes brightened in surprise. “It’s so good! You surprise me with all of your talents, Mei.”

Mei glanced at Jamie, already pretty sure of what she’d see. His face was so incredibly emotive, a mixed blessing because she always could tell how he felt, for better or worse. He glowed with pride, for a moment, then the next his whole face fell.

She lifted a finger to her lips. Sssh. His lips twitched in a brief snarl, and he crossed his arms and looked aside.

“Fareeha, that is very kind of you to say. What about it do you like?”

“These strips! They are so tender. It has a bit of crisp and crust on it, but it melts on the inside.” She took a break for a moment, and seemed to savor the steam and smell for a moment. “And it is spiced very well.”

“That is very high praise.” Mei saw one of Jamie’s eyes peek open, looking back at her. She smiled to him, then back to Fareeha.

The captain “Actually, it reminds me of a beef rice bowl I once had, at a nice sit-down in Tokyo. Not the same flavors, but the same feel? This is very spicy, by the way.”

Mei laughed softly. “Hear that, Jamison? It tasted like a real restaurant cooked it.”

Fareeha was halfway through chewing another mouthful of her meal when her attention darted up to Mei. “Hm?”

“I didn’t cook tonight.” Mei lifted her iced-over hand. Fareeha put her hand to her mouth and gasped softly. “Well, I tried to, but I burned myself. Then Jamison graciously suggested to grill instead, so we wouldn’t waste the ingredients.”

The captain peered at him. “Is that so?”

“Totally selfishly! Not being nice at all!” He huffed, his arms still crossed, and shook his head. “I thought I’d puke if I had to eat them dried army bits again!”

“I made the rice, and helped a little with the spices.” Mei smiled. “But Jamison is the real artist here. Beef was always my favorite, but this is the best I’ve ever had.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Fareeha paused eating. She glanced between Mei and Jamison a few times, definite confusion over her face. Sudden panic flared up in Mei’s spine. Had she been too obvious? But she had told the truth. And Jamie stared at Mei like he’d never heard a kinder thing in his life.

Maybe Fareeha would assume that Mei was being agreeable? So she smiled sweetly at the captain, and added, “Meals with teammates always taste better, right captain?”

“Yes. I suppose that’s true,” Fareeha finally said. She tapped the barrel with her armored toe. “Well, I did assume this contraption was a Junker’s doing.”

He straightened up in his seat and waved his arms around. “Of course! Made us a good ol’ fashioned barrel barbeque, just like home.”

Fareeha’s expression towards him changed somewhat - she still looked stern, but less interrogating, Mei thought. “Oh, Mr. Fawkes? Was this arrangement common for you?”

“Every night! Rain or shine! Dust or smog!” He then rubbed his hair with the heel of his hand, looking somewhat sheepish for a moment. “Except, I ain’t cook for an audience in a while.”

“I’m sorry I assumed then.” She looked thoughtfully at Jamie, like she was still trying to measure her opinion of him. “It seems like you are a man of more-than-one talent.”

“Ha! And plenty more where that came from, promise you that!”

Mei giggled into her hand. He was blushing! Jamie must have noticed, since he shot a glance back at her, muttered something to himself, and finally lifted his own food to his face and ate.

The conversation drifted to the details of Fareeha’s scouting, and the schedule for tomorrow’s search. Fareeha was almost exhaustingly thorough, wanting backup plans and a location to fall back to in case they encountered trouble. Mei paid close attention because Jamie definitely wasn’t. The glowing comments about his food made him even more attentive towards the second batch of beef slices, but Mei also noticed him glancing at her quite often, almost shy glances that darted quickly away whenever she caught him.

Mei scooped out more rice for everyone, and Jamie leaned over to serve Fareeha another skewer of beef strips. But at the last moment he held it back, and wagged a finger at her. “Second helping - only if ya give me a look at one of them missiles.”

Fareeha’s eyes widened in surprise. At first, Mei was certain she would reprimand Jamie. But her face slowly softened, and she extended her bowl to him anyway.

“Maybe for Thanksgiving. Just to see you flash-cook a turkey with it.”

He stared at her for a moment, then slapped his knee and laughed. He dropped the strips in her bowl and she smiled thinly.

“It’s getting too cold out here for me. I’m going to take this inside.” She scooped up her helmet, then nodded at them as she stood up. “Thank you for dinner.”

The logs cracked and spit up some embers into the air. Even though the fire wasn’t as fierce as it was before, Mei’s skin still prickled from the warmth radiating from it. She closed her eyes and exhaled in relief. In her original plan, she and Jamie would have finished their dinner before Fareeha had come home. But somehow, this had worked out anyway.

His voice, low, reached her over the fire. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“When’s Thanksgiving?”

She searched her memory. “I think…October?”

“Aw.” He propped his chin on his hands. “That’s a long time.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled at him. “I think Fareeha likes you better now.”

Jamie huffed and looked away. “Like I care what Jet Pack thinks of me.”

Mei watched the lights of different cabin rooms flick on and off, until it seemed like Fareeha settled into one room. Only then did Mei get up, and moved so that she could be closer to him. She hated hiding, but Overwatch couldn’t know about their relationship yet - they might separate her from Jamie, and stop them from going on missions together. Even the thought of that made her heart ache.

She hugged him from behind, pressed her chest to his back, and rest her cheek on his shoulder. He was warm like a glowing furnace, even in this cold. He turned his face towards hers, his eyes curious, and wondering.

“I believe that you always try your best,” she whispered in Chinese, quiet as a breath. She used to be so scared that he’d lash out, undo even the meager amount of trust the other agents had in him, and then flee Overwatch and all the protection it could offer a man on the run. But even with Roadhog gone, Jamie surprised her with his determination to prove himself. He tried so hard every day - to be good, to make friends, to do right by her.

She touched along the side of his jaw. He wanted so badly to belong. Once she had realized that, everything she had understood about him changed.

“Hm?” He hadn’t understood her quietly-spoken Chinese, and waited for her to repeat herself.

“I said, I love you for being so strong,” she said, in English. “And brave.”

The best part was watching his eyes widen. “I…uhhhh…”

She held her arms all the tighter around his chest, and smiled at him - the small and sweet smile that he once said made him go completely stupid. “And you are so cheerful all the time, and always make me laugh.”

Now he kicked his feet and squirmed in her loving chokehold. His face and ears bloomed with bright red blushes. “That’s not fair! Yer killing me!”

She pressed two light kisses to the side of his jaw. “And every day, I find more reasons to love you.”

He reached his arm back around her waist, lifted her and swung her around until she sat sideways across his thighs. Mei squealed and kicked out her feet, looking for her balance, when he kept a hand and her back and dipped her low. If she tilted her head back just a little, she’d see the forest upside-down behind her. But Mei couldn’t even think of anything but his bright gold eyes upon hers.

“You’re playing with fire, Snowflake,” he warned in a low, growl. Jamie loomed over her, and she shivered from the thrill of him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to drive me crazy.”

She put her hand to her mouth. “I would never!”

He looked so alive. “You give me wild ideas. Like that I’d want to grab ya like this, run off into the woods, and keep you just for me.”

“Oh no,” she whispered, as if the prospect was actually frightening. “Not that.”

Then he did what she wished he’d do - he ducked his face close, smirked, and kissed her. First lightly, fleeting and full of affection that she could drown in, and then when she gasped, a real one. But he kissed far too slowly, perhaps second-guessing his ability, or her delicacy. So she grabbed his coat collar with her good hand and pulled him to her, hoping to rid him of any doubt of what she wanted. She thought he smelled quite wonderful tonight, warm, like scorched bark, pine, sandalwood, and spice. The smell, and the heat of him, made her practically melt against Jamie, and soon the tension left his uncertain hands and lips as well.

Mei let the ice glove over her right hand snap, and even though her palm still hurt a little bit, she clutched at the back of his jacket, wanting to close every gap between them. His arms folded around her and matched the possessiveness, the need in her embrace. Alone, together in this snowy forest, her heart poured out for him with no reserve. She kissed so urgently and clung so tightly as if it were a ward against the rest of the world, against all the terrible forces that would take him from her, if only given a chance. No, she never wanted that, would never let that happen…

A loud crashing sound managed to cut through the thick fog of emotions. Her thoughts jarred. Noise, from the kitchen?

Jamie startled, lost his balance, and both he and Mei toppled forward into the dirt behind the fire pit. She blinked, dazed at the sudden fall, until she heard his urgent whisper and felt his hand at her back. “Up! It’s her.”

He drew himself up to only a crouch, and stooped over the grate so low that his face was nearly in the fire. He poked eagerly at the embers to make even more sprays of light. Bowed over like that, Fareeha should not be able to see the redness on his face, or his tell-all expression this way. The cabin door groaned open, slowly and dreadfully as Mei raced back to her seat.

“Hi!” She waved to the captain, now dressed in a cozy sweatsuit. Mei realized belatedly that her hand wasn’t in ice anymore, but she hoped that Fareeha didn’t notice. “Yes?”

She looked between the two of them at the fire, but Mei didn’t see any indication that that Fareeha was suspicious, or upset. Instead, the captain revealed two plastic packages from behind her, and held them up for Mei and Jamie to see. “As a thank you for the meal. Do either of you know about s'mores?”

Mei shook her head. “I’m not familiar?”

“I wasn’t sure if he’d have the ingredients around. But it is Reinhardt we’re talking about, so…”

She tossed a package to Mei - chocolate covered cookies? And Jamie caught a pillowy white bag Fareeha threw over the fire, which he held by the corner as he peered over its (very, very cute) packaging.

“What are these for?” Mei asked.

“I think the pyro can figure it out.” She saluted, and stepped back into the cabin. “See you at 0700, soldiers.”

Mei looked at Jamie, but he only shrugged. “Dunno. Never seen these before.”

She sighed, and slumped deeply into her seat. For all of the discretion she demanded from Jamie, tonight she was doing a terrible job of controlling herself. But, Mei supposed, Fareeha probably wouldn’t have been so nice if she thought something was up. Somehow they were still okay.

She watched him open up the package and investigate the fluffy white candy inside. Jamie dangled one marshmallow over the fire, looked unsatisfied, and then tossed it to her. “This ain’t doing anything.”

Mei took one of the skewers from dinner, and pierced the marshmallow with it. “Maybe it needs to be closer.”

He watched over her shoulder as she waved the candy close to the flames. “Lookit!” he said. By the fire’s heat the marshmallow puffed up, and slowly deepened in color from white, tan, gold, until it just charred at the edge. She drew the treat back, then popped it off of the skewer and quickly into her mouth.

“Oh!” It took her a few moments to chew it down. “That actually tastes good! Like burnt sugar.”

“Lemme try.”

She turned to grab a second skewer, but his hand on her shoulder stopped her. Jamie grabbed her chin, and kissed her. Very quickly, there and gone again like the lick of a flame. He considered her, his hands holding her still, and ran his tongue over his lips.

“Hm, can’t tell. Is always sweet.”

Her neck and cheeks bloomed in color, and he laughed to himself uproariously. She tried to bat him on the arm, but he danced out of her way and onto his feet. He snatched up the second package Fareeha tossed, and looked over it by the light of the fire.

“What’re the cookies for then? We supposed to burn these too?”

“I don’t think that sounds right.” She couldn’t think straight, and sat with her hands clapped over her cheeks. He was so embarrassing. “Maybe?”

Jamie grinned. “Nothin’ to do but try, luv.”

—–

Meanwhile -

Fareeha, hyperventilating and on the phone: I can’t believe it! I was not briefed on this! I was never told those two were so close. I thought they hated each other, but I saw them kissing! Just now!

Reinhardt: Ah! Young love! How tiny and adorable! And on Valentine’s Day too!

Fareeha: NOT adorable! This is the kind of thing that compromises missions! How the hell am I supposed to proceed like this?

Reinhardt: So this is why that scrappy lad stole my cologne the other week. Sounds like Eau de Reinhardt worked out for him, haha!

Fareeha, banging her fist on the table: I need your advice, not your commentary!

Reinhardt:. No problem! I have just the thing for such emergencies! Check for a little black rope sticking out of the floorboards. Under the buffet table, I think.

Fareeha, fumbling: Let me look…yes…oh, it opens a hidden compartment! I can feel something in here…

Fareeha: …

Fareeha: Reinhardt. This is a growler filled with whiskey.

Reinhardt: Yes! Wonderful! You can handle anything now, little one!

Fareeha: …wait-

Reinhardt: Always happy to help! Just be a dear, and don’t let them use my bedroom. Bye! *disconnects*

Fareeha: …

Fareeha: This is too far above my pay grade to even deal with right now.

#meihemsecretvalentine2017 #meihem #junkmei #fanfic #sage stuff

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