#and yes we be knowin that counter has a little step for her to see over it

[blissfulalchemist]

“Your task is not to seek love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

- Rumi

Thank you to the wonderful and oh so talented @minilev for bringing to life the first face to face meeting of my girl Catlina and @risenlucifer’s Rafael. It came out perfect and I could not be happier! Thank you Kate for creating your boy and helping in creating this piece! 💜 Below the cut is the scene itself from their shared universe.

There was only one location in Hope County that became true neutral ground, and managed to stay that way even after the reaping began. The signs that stood outside the doors were the only indication of where the initial funding came from but nothing else that leant itself to associating itself with Eden’s Gate, just how Catlina wanted it from the start. Her outreach center was created to help all residents of Hope County have their needs met, not recruitment as some assumed. In recent weeks becoming a safe haven for those that didn’t ask to be caught in the crossfire of the holy war. Though Catlina was finding it harder to offer up something as someone kept stealing the wrong trucks. Didn’t matter how many times she tried to make them as distinct as possible from the other ones the deputy was allowed to take from Eden’s Gate he still managed to find a way to hit her trucks now and again. 

Cat was lucky that the truck that brought about her special order had survived, all the items planned to be a gift for the fabled friend of Deputy Wes. It's not that she wanted to be a creep, but sometimes it was hard to not overhear the conversations he and John would have as she waited for him to leave or at least make her presence known. It was nice to just hear someone else’s voice in the house that didn’t seem to spout the same notions as everyone else, so she’d prolong the amount of time they had together. It was during one of the times she’d opted to sneak back into the house that she heard the passing comment and joke about his friend’s complaints of not being able to make any sort of decent meal with the food that was offered in the Whitetails. 

No surprise to her as that was the place hardest to get any kind of supplies, seeing as Jacob took most of it. Her heart went out to Wes’ friend and she had the means, so she compiled what she could based on the conversation Wes and her husband had, leaving it on the doorstep of the deputy a note attached specifying its intended recipient. That was over a week ago and she hadn’t heard anything about it or related to it. She hadn’t put a name with the note, maybe that was the problem, just the location of the outreach center in case they wanted more and Cat held hope that she’d get to meet them, maybe make the first real connection with someone on the other side of this war. 

Each swinging of the door had her looking up, heart racing only to be met with disappointment when it was someone she recognized. “You know you don’t even know what he looks like right,” Lance teased, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. 

“Well do you know what he looks like?” She asked, waving to one of the locals that came by weekly, “Because maybe then you can give me a hint or a name?”

“Firstly, Wes could have had a change of friends since I last remembered,” he pushed himself off looking out the window at the cars driving by, “Secondly, if it is still the same guy he was a bit scrawny still last I saw of him.”

She rolled her eyes, “Did you just become a hermit or something at some point? Cause you said the same about the deputy,” Cat moved back behind the counter leaning her elbows against it, “and we both know how he turned out.” 

Lance gave a small laugh looking back at Cat, “You starting to feel jealous?”

Cat narrowed her eyes, “No,” she let out a sigh, ”I just want friends. Or some way to not feel so lonely.” She looked at Lance’s hazel eyes, “Not that you’re not my friend it’s just-.”

“I know. Want people your own age,” Lance’s eyes moved to the person walking through the door, locking onto the holstered handgun, “I was a young man once too.”

Catlina’s eyes followed the patron around the store too until their items were brought up to the counter. She helped him get settled, taking the little money he had to offer before watching him make his way out of the building, leaving her and Lance alone. 

“How late are you wanting to stay today?” Lance asked, stretching out his arms, “I don’t think we have to worry about interrupting anything back at the ranch.” He took his seat in the front corner of the store, hands picking up the latest in his engine projects John had given him, “Besides you have to go to the service in the morning, can’t be up too late.”

She gave a small eye roll, “I just want to make sure I don’t miss him. Maybe he can only come later in the day.” Or maybe he never planned on showing. 

“So a bit after sundown again?”

She nodded, making herself busy with the smaller inventory behind the counter, “I might have to give up after this week though.” She tapped the pen on the table, “I shouldn’t be holding out too much hope. Not like many people trust me nowadays.” She looked up to the sound of a car pulling up to the building, shoulders sagging letting out a breath, It probably wasn’t him. I really need to stop hoping at this point, “Well outside Eden’s Gate at least.”

She rested her forehead against the counter, the sound of the bell announcing the person that just pulled up, their footsteps filling the space of the small shop. Cat didn’t look up as she traced his movement in the building from the sound of his shoes against the old wood alone. There were a few pauses as he seemed to look around, Cat moving to lay her head against her arm, writing out the list of what may be needed soon. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the shopper called out in a voice clear and deep, “there are no prices on anything.”

Cat lifted her head, giving a smile glancing his way, “Its because this is a pay what you can center. It can range from zero to full price.” She turned to face him head on, eyes locking with his, her heart stopping a moment before starting to race. He was new and she couldn’t look away from his brown eyes, warm, inviting, and a bit playful. His dark curls falling perfectly framing his face, accented by a neatly kept beard. His clothing, while simple, appeared to be of higher quality than other residents of the county. The dark blue cardigan over his burgundy shirt, and silver necklaces catching in the light, bright, though not enough to outshine his smile. His smile, how assuring it made her feel. All of him….perfect. 

Well that’s just unfair, she thought as her mouth went dry, trying to gain some semblance of composure. Cat cleared her throat, smoothing out her dress hiding the reddening of her cheeks as he walked closer. “Just like that? I could take whatever I wanted,” he asked, Cat nodding in response, “However much I wanted?”

She started to nod again, stopping, “Erm, well within reason. Wouldn’t be really fair if you took all of a supply that was needed by everyone, you know?”

He gave a small nod, “So you run this place based on trust and merit,” he leaned on the counter, Cat taking a step back, “Seems a little bold in a place like this.” She gave a shrug, “Looks like you’re running a bit low though,” he gestured to the store around him.

“I know,” she let out a sigh, “My trucks have been getting snatched up.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“I mean, yes it's bad for me and the center but I can’t blame him for taking them,” she stammered out, “He’s been giving them to those that need the supplies, so in the end it’s serving their purposes. I just wish he’d have thought to ask or target the other trucks.”

“The deputy?” Cat nodded in response, “He’s been taking your trucks?”

“Yeah,” she waved, “but it doesn’t matter if the supplies are serving those that need them.”

“But if he asked, you’d just give them to him,” Cat found herself locked in his gaze once more, They feel so much like his eyes. How’s possible?, “Why do that?”

Cat looked down stuffing the memories back into their box, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, “It’s the right thing to do. There’s a lot of people willing to fight and defend their homes, but what about the people that didn’t ask to be a part of any of this?” She met his eyes, “I know it's hard to believe but there are people on both sides that just wanted to live in peace. Some just want to worship a faith without the violence and not to mention the locals that never sold their homes but couldn’t afford the means to leave. A sort of stubborn pride in its own right.” Cat looked around the center, smiling, “This place is for them. It's for anyone really, I fight hard to keep this place a sanctuary for anyone that needs it, no matter where they come from.” She met his eyes rolling her shoulders back, nothing that his posture had never changed, “Everyone is worth saving and helping when in need.” 

His face unreadable he studied her, standing straighter, “Guess what they say about you and this place is true,” Cat tilted her head, brow furrowing, “The signs though,” he jerked a thumb to the front of the building, “well that kind of makes it hard to believe.”

Her shoulders sagged, “I know,” rolling her eyes letting out a breath, “It was either those or some audio played on the speakers. I’m contractually obligated to have one or the other.” He laughed, startling her before she felt herself loosen up, laughing along with him, “You think I’m kidding?”

“Yeah I do a bit,” she smirked, pulling out the copy of her outreach center contract with John, dropping it in front of him. His laughter stopping, the smile remaining as he looked it over, “Never mind, guess I was wrong,” he flipped through the pages, “Even got it notarized I see.”

“Mhm,” he passed the papers back to her, “I had to make it as official as possible. If I’ve learned anything it's that the best way to beat a lawyer is using their own tricks against them.”

“Clever,” he gave a light bang of his hand against the wood of the counter, “So tell me, what would one owe for these items,” he pulled out a slip of paper, “They got left with a friend of mine and I want to make sure I’m not in debt.”

Cat’s eyes went wide as she looked over the list, each item one that she left on Deputy Wes’ doorstep. It’s him. It’s really him. He came by and I….feel unprepared. Her hands started to shake, trying to refocus her brain on what was happening. “Oh right uhm, noth-nothing,” her words tumbled out, “Nothing. First one is uhm, first one’s free.”

“What if I want to give a little something for it,” he had his wallet out, “It is a pay what you can center as you said.”

“I- I uh, I did. I said that,” she cleared her throat, “Besides the point. I think I heard mention that it was a gift and you don’t pay for gifts, that’s just rude.”

“Then a donation?” He placed a few bills in her hands, Cat pushing them back over into his, electricity coursing through her with each touch, shaking her head. He was so easy to talk to, why does this feel so normal and so scary? Am I dreaming it? Probably. “We’re not getting anywhere with this are we,” he laughed, Did he just have to be so charming? He has to be this way with everyone.

“No. It’s because I insist,” she took a deep breath, “It was a gift. You don’t owe me anything.” Cat snapped her jaw closed, wincing at revealing herself to be the gift giver. 

He stopped, “So it was you? You’re the one that gave me the basket.” Cat’s cheeks burned, nodding slowly, “You didn’t leave a name on the note. Why is that?”

“I-,” Cat stopped, she didn’t really have much of an answer, “Names are complicated and besides I didn’t need to be thanked for doing something nice.”

“Well I’m going to thank you,” he held his hand out to her, Cat taking it gingerly, “You made my meals feel decent for once.”

“Oh did you use everything already,” her hand shaking his still, “I can get some more on the list for you, for next time you come around.”

He shook his head, “No I’m okay for now. I will, however, keep you in mind when I want to indulge.” He let go of her hand humming in thought, “You don’t get a lot of people from the Whitetails do you?”

She shook her head, “No, that seems to be the hardest place to make a dent in anything getting up there. And if I’m being honest I think people are scared to leave their homes.”

“I tend to do a bit of work up there, maybe I can help and be a sort of liaison. If you’d like,” her heart fluttered at the idea of seeing him more and talking to him and working with him. Just the idea of him.

“I assume you and the militia up there will help in distribution,” he gave a curt nod, Cat looking at Lance who just gave a shrug in return, “Only if you promise that it just be you guys giving it out, that it’s done fairly, and maybe put the word out to some of the locals that this really is a place they won’t be harmed.” She took a breath, her rambling stopping before she could make it worse.

“Sounds like we’re making a tentative partnership,” he smirked, some curls falling out of place, “Should I get the local public notary?”

Cat laughed, shaking her head as she looked down to the old wood, “No. I think we can settle this on our own….for now at least.” She stood straighter, holding her hand out to him, “So what do you say mister….?”

“Rafael,” he clasped his hand around hers, “or Raf as some people call me.”

“Raf,” she repeated, “Unique name nowadays.”

He nodded, giving her a pointed look, “And what shall I call you, Mrs. Seed?”

Catlina’s face turned in disgust, “Anything but that really.”

“Well I can certainly call you Mary if you like,” he smirked, “though something tells me you don’t like that name either.”

“It’s not the worst name out there,” she mumbled picking at the wood, “It’s just-.” How does he feel so easy to talk to?, she thought looking over at Lance. He gave a slight shake of his head, “You know why don’t I let you just decide what to call me.” Cat gave Lance a small shrug, “I don’t think you’ll give me something I’ll hate to be called,” Raf’s dark eyes regarded her, “Just don’t use my height as a nickname please if you decide to go a nickname route. That’s my only rule.”

Raf chuckled, “Might need a little time to come up with that. For now, why don’t I just call you,” she braced herself at his pause regretting his offer to just call her Mary, “conejito.”

Cat blinked back in surprise, “Conejito,” she repeated the word sounding familiar. The recollections she could muster never put the word in a bad light, many in her family always calling others by that name with affection, even though she never really bothered to ever ask what it meant. And she wasn’t going to start now. It sounded sweet and the flutter in her chest brought about the feeling of normal she’d been missing, or the flutter came from the way the evening sun hit his eyes just so, paired with the smile he gave. “It’s acceptable for a temporary name Rafael,” Catlina returned his smile, cheeks burning. Her heart thumped in her chest only managing to focus on his eyes, she looked away clearing her throat, “So, uhm, when will I see you again to discuss more details of our partnership?”

“Few days,” his eyes glanced outside the window, “I have to talk to some people up there, see what they need and want from this partnership.” 

“Oh,” Cat’s heart fell, “I mean, well that makes sense. I should uhm, well I should prepare and look into what I can offer, so we can get to a middle ground,” she stammered, stopping herself as she twisted the tips of her fingers. 

“That sounds like a good plan. How late are you normally open?”

“I’m pretty flexible,” she said, Lance giving a snort, “Well uhm, I mean whenever you need me I can be there however you need me,” Cat shut her eyes letting out a breath, Raf laughing softly, “Well you get what I mean.”

“I do, Conejito, I do,” Raf shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “I’ll try to come later in the day, but I’ll try to give you a bit of a warning.”

“Yeah, yeah. That works,” Cat bounced on her toes, “I’m sure you have to be uh going I assume. Do you need a ride? Cause we can give you one?”

He pointed to the car still parked outside the building, “I brought my own ride,” Cat gave a slow nod, “Thank you for the offer though.” Raf took a few steps back, raising his hand, waving, “I’ll see you in a few days, Conejito.” 

Cat waved back, “See you.” She watched as he made his way out of the building and into the car, looking back inside of the building once it was out of sight. 

Cat groaned, lying her head against the counter, “Not as scrawny anymore,” Lance said standing from his chair, “Guess you were right.”

Cat looked up, narrowing her eyes, “That your way of telling me I told you so?”

Lance smiled, “No,” he chuckled before his face grew serious, “You should be careful though.”

“What do you mean?” Cat asked, raising a brow.

“He’s not just the deputy’s friend,” Lance moved locking up the windows, “He’s pretty well known in the mountains, call him the Saint.” Cat stood straighter, crossing her arms as she looked at the ground, “He’s got a target on his back, pretty big one if I’m not mistaken. Might be a little dangerous to work too close to him.” 

“I have the sway to keep this place and my work in the middle, not on either side.” 

Lance hummed, “Hm, I just wouldn’t count on that staying for very long. Just in case.” He turned to her, holding his hand out for the keys as Cat tossed them his way, “Don’t want to see you get hurt, is all.” 

“I won’t be. I got you here,” Cat moved to stand next to him, bumping his arm, “and he seems trustworthy enough.” Lance put an arm around her, “Who knows this might be the best thing for us. We could do more good around here, get this whole war ended sooner.”

“Get you out sooner,” Lance whispered, “I’ll look into him more see where he stands on things. Just to be on the safe side.” He rubbed her arm, patting it as he moved to lock the front door, “Let’s get back to the ranch shall we?” 

Cat nodded, grabbing her sweater, “Yeah, let’s go. I have to distract myself anyway.”

“Not gonna be able to get his eyes out of your mind for awhile are ya?” Lance laughed, leading them to the car, Cat giving him a shove, “Hey you were the one that was kind of obvious in your drooling over him.”

Cat rolled her eyes, “You were real popular with Sage when she was in high school, weren’t you?” Lance laughed in response as the two pulled out onto the road to drive them back. He was right, and that didn’t make it any less appealing to Cat to want to get to know Raf and hopefully become close to him. No matter how their relationship played out, part of her just knew she wanted him in her life and that nothing was going to be the same now.

[second-chance-stray]

RP Log: Cravs and Lin speak after a successful mission.

Aislinn North After the team returned to Heartwood, dragging the remains of one large bioweapon with them, Aislinn had disappeared into her quarters with little more than a 'see you all later'. The next day she emerged from upstairs as the evening set in, a glass of whiskey in hand, looking more rested and decidedly less tense than the day before. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, and studied the bioweapon spider that now clogged the entryway. She raised an impressed brow. 1/2

Aislinn North Cravendy, Rising and Riylli must have figured out how to get it through the door. A mathematical feat, to be sure. Taking a swallow of her drink, she made her way over to the spider remains and began poking and prodding at it. 2/2

Cravendy Hound had woken up the next afternoon on the couch, her body achy and her head even more so. The rest of the day was spent trying to recover, to limited effect. It took until evening to feel passably alive, and she emerged from her room like a bear waking from hibernation...wearing yesterday’s clothes. Her hair? Don’t even talk about it.

Cravendy Hound notices Lin poking the spider-thing and steps up to join her. “....Hhey,” she says, in a voice raspy like sandpaper.

Aislinn North quickly looked up from her rummaging, caught off guard by the sudden sound of someone's voice. Already too absorbed in the spider's inner workings to notice anyone approaching. "I was just --" she relaxed a bit and let out a breath when she saw it was only Cravendy. "Ahh, alright, Cravendy." she nodded. Then paused and really took a look at the Seawolf. The woman definitely looked a bit rough around the edges. "Actually, aye. *Are* you alright there?"

Cravendy Hound is about to brush off Lin’s question and claim that she’s fine, but stops herself. Looking like this, she couldn’t fool anyone, not even herself. Cravs crosses her arms and grimaces. The sore consequences of tackling a machine twice.

Cravendy Hound: “I, ah, went drinkin’ after the mission yesterday. ‘Ow about yerself? All in one piece still?” She looks over the machine and her frown deepens. Something about how it was both metal and flesh spooked her. Didn't seem right.

Aislinn North "No reason for me not to be in one piece. All I did was stand in the back and keep those two green recruits from being overwhelmed." she replied as she waved off the question. She knocked a boot against the odd flesh covered metal chassis. "Must've been some night of drinking though. Come on, let's head upstairs and get some water in you." she said and turned for the stairs.

Aislinn North Setting her drink on the bar, Aislinn took a moment to sort out the kitchen. Honestly, this was one of the few times she'd been back here. But she soon locates the spigot in short order and pours Cravendy a tall glass of cold water and passes it over to her. "There. That oughta help with all that grit in your throat."

Cravendy Hound waits for Lin to turn her back, and then follows, careful to limp as quietly as she is able. When it seems like she’s about to look, Cravs does her best to not look so beaten up. Internally, an incessant monologue chitters in her head, berating her for being so...pitiful? Weak? It -had- been awhile since she was last in the field though. Completely natural to be sore, she tells herself.

Cravendy Hound: “Thanks.” She downs half the glass in one, prolonged gulp, and then takes a seat on the stool. “So...what’s yer plan with the spider now? Workin’ with Haila?”

Aislinn North shrugged in an almost non-committal fashion. "Honestly, I don't have any plans for it. I think it's all up to Haila from here. I suppose I should get going on making more of those prototypes if this last excursion was any indication." she said with a dry humor. "Those two, Riylli and Evelyn, they're going to need something to keep those bioweapons off them. Because caution sure isn't it."

Cravendy Hound: “I figure magic comes as naturally to them as breathin’, so to tell ‘em to ‘old back...well, that’s what yer shackles are for.” Cravs leans forward on the counter and flinches slightly. She shifts her posture until she’s no longer putting weight on any bruises. “Evelyn is an interestin’ one. What’d she call ‘erself? The third comin’ of the Phoenix?”

Aislinn North lips turned downward at the idea she was creating 'shackles'. And in truth if she hadn't been there picking off the host of small spiders, the two miqo'te -would- have been overwhelmed. "Better than adding another two to the lost list." she returned before taking another swallow of whiskey. She nodded to Cravendy, watching the woman as she flinched. "Something like that. She also referred to herself as a vessel. Figure something powerful has a hold of that one."

Cravendy Hound nods in agreement. “Either they’re completely loony, or they’re tellin’ the truth. And personally, I don’t think it’s the latter.” Cravs holds back a laugh as she remembers Evelyn bragging about (and then failing to deliver on) grandiose feats. “But yer right. I’m glad she’s still with us, and not dragged off to who knows where.”

Aislinn North stared down pensively at the amber liquid in her glass. How long had it been since G'lewra, Vanriri and M'shara disappeared? She shied away from adding up the days. She knew she wouldn't like the sum. "All this waiting is the hardest part. Don't get me wrong, running off and storming this madman's hideout wasn't the best plan G'lewra ever had. But. ..some days, I get it."

Cravendy Hound: “For the missin’ folks. Do ye think there’s still anythin’ left to save?” Cravs wonders aloud. She stares past the water in her glass, unfocused and weary. They had been gone for so long, and her mind had a tendency to wander into dark territory. To assume the worst. “...Shouldn’t rush in, but ‘ells, it feels awful not knowin’.”

Aislinn North "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought the same." she said, inhaling deeply. "But I don't think we can operate like that. This is still a rescue mission until we know otherwise." It was unclear as to whether it was Cravendy or herself that she was reassuring.

Cravendy Hound lets out a sharp breath. “Grah, I know, I just. Sittin’ ‘ere while they could be...I want to do something. Anything. Shit always takes too long to fix.” Impatient frustration builds like hot smoke, filling her lungs, but when she looks back at Lin, it settles. Of course, she wasn’t alone in feeling this way, and that helped somewhat.

Cravendy Hound: “Feels like once ye start to care, ye suddenly can’t stop seein’ how everythin’s on fire. Far too many for one to put out, if yer not burnin’ yerself,” Cravs mumbles before downing the rest of her water.

Aislinn North tilted her head to Cravendy, understanding how the woman felt. "That is the way of it, isn't it? Unless you want to go and hermit up out in the woods somewhere. Or worse, just stop caring all together." she said with a rueful glance. "Suppose that must happen a lot in this mercenary business. Too many fires, not enough water." she paused for a moment, reflecting on the truth in Cravendy's words. Best not to pile on and add to it, in her opinion. 1/2

Aislinn North "Be sure to shoot me if I ever get that way." she told the Seawolf. Most likely, it was a jest. 2/2

Cravendy Hound: “It was nice, not carin’. Just takin’,” Cravs notes wistfully, reflecting on her lawless days at sea. “‘Ey, don’t ye go rattin’ me out for the mistakes I made in my youth. Shit still messes ye up, twofold like a debt unpaid. Would not recommend.”

Cravendy Hound slouches over with a smile. “If I shoot ye, promise me ye’ll shoot me back. Seems a fair trade.

(Cravendy Hound) also - cravs talking about her youth like it was years ago when tbh it was her allll the way up until she woke up ;w; )) (Aislinn North) ((Lol! Practically EONS ago!)) (Cravendy Hound) the distant past *yesterday* ))

Aislinn North shook her head as she drained the whiskey in her glass. "I'm certainly in no place to go ratting anyone out for mistakes made in the past." she told the Seawolf. "Hells, I'm fairly sure I'm still making them." she said darkly. She pushed the empty glass to the far side of the bar. "But alright, it's a deal. Assuming we both decide to stop caring at the same time." Propping an elbow on the counter, she rested her chin in the palm of her hand. 1/2

Aislinn North "Speaking of which, I suppose I should get on those prototypes. Er. ..guess they're just 'types' now. Sans 'proto'." she was rambling and shook her head. "And you could probably do with some more resting up." 2/2

Cravendy Hound makes a sound halfway between confused and amused. “Prototype? Type? What’re ye goin’ off about...Just do what ye ‘ave to do. I won’t keep ye any longer.” Cravs smirks, and turns to face the bar. Since she was here, she may as well indulge. Round two, coming up.

(Cravendy Hound) bad decisions coming up more like )) (Aislinn North) ((Ohhhh Cravs xD))

[thiswasinevitableid]

47 for OT4, SFW or NSFW I love your writing! :))

Thank you! I went SFW for this one.

47: you overhear me complaining to my coworker about your ridiculous daily coffee order, whoops

“Oh christ, here he comes.” Duck mutters to Indrid as he pumps hazelnut syrup into a cup, “the one I was tellin you about.”

Indrid, stationed at the counter, tilts his head as he watches the windows, “would he be the one that looks like a lumberjack or the one who looks like a secret agent?”

“The second one. I dunno what it is, but his order drives me fuckin nuts. It’s super specific; dark roast, single origin only, heavy cream until it turns about that color” he points to the wall, “with a half pump of caramel and a half pump of vanilla. You’re gonna be that specific, just make it at home.” He’s busy putting a lid on  the drink and therefore misses Indrid’s hand waving. 

“I do, and it’s not that hard.” A deep voice makes him turn; the lumberjack, looking more amused than annoyed.

“And since you know my order so well already” the other man, smile, tight lipped, at him before turning to Indrid, “one of those and one large, black coffee.”

Duck starts the drink, making it as fast as he can so he can slink off into the back room. Shit, if the guy rats on him he could get in trouble, he’s already on thin ice after throwing out some rich kid for harassing the staff. 

Indrid takes the drinks, mouths, “go” and heads around the counter while Duck makes a bee-line for the supply closet. 

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

Indrid sets the cups down in front of the two men, then slides a plate with a large, hot monster cookie on it between them. 

“On the house, as they say.”

“This an apology cookie or a ‘don’t give us a bad review’ cookie?” The lumberjack smirks.

“Both.” Indrid says mildly, smiling and returning to his post.

 As he walks away he hears the deep voice whisper, “wouldn’t kick that one outta bed for eating crackers.”

A soft laugh, “Agreed. Pity his friend is an ass.”

When Jake and Hollis arrive a few minutes later to take over for him and Duck, he finds his boyfriend clonking his head into the wall by the break room. 

“Don’t worry, love, I smoothed things over.”

“Thanks. Just feel like a dipshit. Both for gettin overheard and complainin in the first place.”

“I assumed it was stress from waiting on interview results.”

“Yeah.” Duck pulls on his jacket, “still feel shitty though.”

“Come, let’s go home. I have some ideas for relaxation.” He purrs, kissing Duck’s cheek. 

“How may of ‘em are fuckin’-based?”

“Half.”

“Good, gives us some variety just in case.”

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

“We’ve paired you with another duo, if that’s okay?”

“Sure” Duck smiles at the Escape Room employee, takes Indrid’s hand as they follow him down the hall, “Aubrey says these are more fun in a group.”

“I look forward to--oh dear.” 

Duck turns to see the pair from the coffee shop last week. The lumberjack looks about the same, but the secret agent is dressed more casually than usual. His black hair is loose rather than slicked back, and he’s in jeans and shirt that reads, “Champ” with a dark outline of sea monster on the front. He almost looks cute.

“You’ve been  trapped in the lair of hostile, highly intelligent space aliens. You have an hour to escape. Good luck” The employee shuts the door, leaving the pairs to stare at each other. 

“Uh, hi. Again.” Duck waves awkwardly

“Hey.” The lumberjack waves back, “so, uh, this is hella awkward, right?”

“Yes.” The other three respond.

“Cool. Look, I dunno about you but I don’t wanna get dissected by aliens. So, bygones?”

The others nods and he smiles, “I’m Barclay, this is Joseph. My, uh, my boyfriend.” It’s distinctly odd watching such a large man blush like a schoolgirl. Joseph smiles, kisses his cheek, then looks around the room.

“Alright, we need to find the four symbol code to enter onto that pad. Spread out and look for places symbols might be hidden.”

They find the first one easily. Indrid’s eye for color and patterns helps them locate the second, and when a clue points to the third being high up, instead of having to construct a makeshift ladder or step-stool, Barclay simply reaches up and grabs it. It does not escape Duck’s notice that both Indrid and Joseph get appreciative looks on their faces when Barclay then moves a “cloning pod” out of the way all by himself. 

“I suspect the last symbol is hidden one something that is in...that hole.” Joseph points to the newly revealed wall lined with several cubbies, one of which has danger signs written all around it.

“Not it. Too close to a garbage disposal, and I have nightmares about putting my hand down that at the wrong time.” Barclay shudders.

“I would also prefer not to be the one to reach in; such elements often have a loud noise gimmick and I do not enjoy that.”

Joseph glances at Duck, blue eyes glinting with a not-entirely-friendly challenge.

“Fuck it, I’ll do it.” Duck steps forward and cautiously slides his hand in. Indrid’s instinct was right, as the whole starts vibrating with a loud, grinding sound. Indrid yelps, grabbing the other two men, who in turn jump and scream  in surprise. Duck grits his teeth, fights the urge to pull back, and finds a smooth tile waiting for him. When he removes his hand the noise stops, and he grins, triumphant, as he shows off the last symbol. 

“WHOO!” Barclay cheers and high-fives Duck  as Joseph punches in the symbols, stopping the timer on the wall, “shit, that was wild man, scared the living hell outta me and I wasn’t even  the one doing it.”

“Mmmm, my brave hero.” Indrid drapes his arms over his shoulder, kissing him.

“Sap.” Duck teases, kissing him back.

“You know, we make a pretty good team.” Joseph brushes stray hair off his face.

“Yeah. Would, um, would you guys like to go grab coffee or something?” Barclay looks genuinely hopeful, which is why, ten minutes later, Duck is sitting across from Joseph in a dark-wood coffee shop. Indrid has excused himself to wash his hands and Barclay is outside taking a phone call from someone named Mama.

Duck sips his coffee (black) as he watches Joseph measure cream into his mug.

“That explains it; guys who drink black coffee are always weird about guys who don’t.”

“Don’t Barclay drink his black?”

“Only when we’re out, when we’re at home he’s always making fancy coffee. Trying out new recipes. It works well. Or, um, mostly well. There was a green tea cherry espresso that was not his finest.”

“Eech. Heh, that reminds me of the time ‘Drid was so groggy he poured strawberry syrup into his coffee instead of caramel. Didn’t phase him one bit, but I felt like I was kissin a berry patch the whole day. Swear the man’s half moth or some shit from how much sugar he drinks.”

Joseph snickers, “sorry, imagining Indrid as a mothman is a funny image.”

Duck pictures it and giggles, which makes Joseph laugh harder. When they recover, he scratches the back of his neck, “Look, I’m sorry I was a dick about your coffee order. Just havin one of those weeks where everythin got on my nerves.”

“It’s alright. I’m not all that bothered by it. Not intellectually, anyway. Being particular or precise is something people have been, um, less than kind to me about in the past.”

“Nothin wrong with knowin what you like.”

Joseph glances out the window at Barclay, “No, no there’s not.”

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

It becomes a weekly arrangement; the four of them meet for some kind of activity, then go to lunch or dinner. Duck learns many things over those weeks; that Barclay can figure out how to reverse engineer Indrid’s favorite cupcakes from a local bakery, that Joseph has a worryingly deep yet very endearing knowledge of bad horror movies. That while Joseph is terrifying during a trivia match, Duck can still wipe the floor with everyone when it comes to the science categories. He learns that Joseph is trans, like him, and that Barclay and Indrid actually went to the same high school but were two years apart and thus didn’t know each other. 

Right now, he’s learning that he’s not as good at laser tag as he thought he was. 

They went during the cheaper hours, mid-afternoon on a Sunday, and while all four of them are on the same team they’ve gotten separated in the neon-tinted darkness. 

He can tell the enemy team has spotted him, and is moving as fast as he can out of range, when a hand reaches out of a darkened turret and pulls him in.

“GAHoh, phew, scared the hell outta me Joe.”

“Sorry, it was safer than calling out.” The space is small, built for kids rather than two twenty-six year olds, and so Joe is pressed right up against him as he watches the door. He might be the only guy Duck knows who wears honest to god cologne, clean and minty smelling, and the scent wraps around him when Joe pulls him back against his chest to hide them from passing opponents. 

“Fuck, that was close.” He whispers.

“Don’t worry” Joe murmurs in his ear, voice huskier than normal, “you’ve got me to look out for you.” He breaks away as if nothing happened, pulls Duck’s body out into the glowing chaos, while his mind stays in the little room, wondering what the fuck that was.

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

 “Can’t believe we got our asses handed to us by a bunch of eleven year olds.” Duck groans as they sit, licking their wounds along with soft-serve from a tiny shack that Barclay swears by.

“That one blonde girl is gonna grow up to be a sniper.” Barclay offers his cone (chocolate and sour cherry) to Joseph, who takes a prim bite.

“It may run in the family; I think her dad was the one with the ‘Go Army’ shirt.” 

“Oh, were we not supposed to be going easy on them?” Indrid cocks his head. The others stare at him in mute shock. 

“I’m kidding; I was utterly outmatched in there.” He grins before dragging his tongue up his cone (pineapple and marshmallow). When he reaches the tip he opens his mouth wider, taking it all in with a satisfied moan. He pulls off, stray ice cream dribbling down his chin until Joe hands him a napkin. Indrid thanks him, then proceeds to do the exact same thing, over and over, and Duck realizes neither of the other men have looked away from his boyfriend. Barclay’s legs are now crossed, and Joe’s cheeks are pink. Duck can’t really blame them--he knows exactly what Indrid can do with that mouth--but what’s stranger is he doesn’t feel jealous or annoyed. He knows Indrid sometimes struggles with looking, in his own words, “offputting.” It’s nice to see two other people catch on to just how hot he is. 

Then again, he kind of wishes Joe would stop staring and eat his own cone; he wants to see what his tongue can do, too.

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

“Watcha drawin’?” Duck slides onto the couch next to Indrid.

“Just random images.”

“That us with Joe and Barclay?”

“I, ah, yes it is.”

“Like it a lot. Christ you’re talented, it’s like how much you like us is comin’ right off the page.”

“Is, ah, is that so? I hadn’t noticed, ah, oh dear, I just remembered I need to go call Jake about covering my shift.”

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

Duck: That new barcade is finally open, wanna come with us on Saturday?

Barclay: Wish we could, but we got a friends birthday that night.

Duck: No big, let us know if you want to catch a flick on Sunday

Barclay sets the phone down, not remembering it’s a group text until Joe pokes his head out of the bedroom.

“Shit, whose birthday is on Saturday? We need to get a gift.”

“Oh, uh, no, no one. Just, uh, didn’t feel like going out but didn’t want them to think I was, like, angry or something. Sorry, shoulda asked if you wanted to go without me, shit, that was rude.”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind time that’s just for us.” He crosses the living room, fiddles with Barclays hair, “but let me know if you want to see a movie Sunday, I’m happy either way.”

“Uhuh, will do.” Barclay nods, not really paying attention, as he imagines silvery hair in the dark theater and holding slender, cool fingers in his own.

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

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t actually have that DVD to loan me?”

“I do” Duck shuts the apartment door behind Joe, “but we got some things to discuss first.” He waits until Joe is sitting next to Barclay (lured here by the promise of cookies) and across from Indrid (lives here, not that hard to lure).

“Look, I don’t think I really gotta point out how weird it is that we went from hangin out every week to not seein’ each other for near a month. But what I do gotta point out is why it’s happenin’.”

“We’ve all been busy?” Joe hazards.

“Yeah, but we all were busy before and we made time for each other. Now we, myself included, are cancelin shit.” He takes a deep breath, “Barclay, Joe, you both got a thing for ‘Drid, don’t you?”

Joe nods while Barclay blushes and mutters, “yeah.”

“And ‘Drid, you got a thing for both of them?”

His boyfriend shifts nervously in his seat, but nods all the same. Barclay looks genuinely surprised. 

“Well, you three ain’t the only ones realizin’ you want more than you got. Joe, I, uh, I really like you. As in wanna date you. So, uh, that’s where we’re at.” He sits down next to Indrid, who instantly takes his hand. 

“That’s...wait, don’t we all want the same thing?” Joe looks between them, puzzled. 

“You’d really be okay with me dating Indrid?” Barclay asks softly. 

“We’d both be dating him. And I’d be dating Duck as well as you two. Assuming that was alright with Indrid?”

“....You know, I think it is.” Indrid squeezes Duck’s hand, “I was afraid to admit how I felt; I didn’t want to come between you and Barclay, because you clearly love each other, and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Duck. But I’ve also seen how happy he is around you, Joseph; there is no reason we could not all work things out to be happy as a, ah, polycule? Is that the term?”

“Think so.” Barclay relaxes, “fuck, I felt so bad thinking that wanting Indrid would fuck everything up, don’t know what to do with my self now that I’m not stressing about it.”

“I propose we order dinner and just...talk.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “I think that will help us sort out where to go from here.”

Duck orders takeout from the Chinese place down the block as Indrid and Joe arrange the living room into a place where they can all sit together comfortably and Barclay grab drinks. Soon they’re gathered on the floor, working out logistics and boundaries and hopes and fears between bites of fried rice and chow mein. Joe keeps notes, curling closer to Duck as the evening goes on. 

There’s a part of him that wants to jump straight to sex, to pin Joe to floor and fuck him while his other boyfriends do what they want to him, to Duck, to each other. But this thing between them is a new leaf in spring, vulnerable and just beginning to grow. 

So, after dinner, they cuddle up on the couch and floor to watch the midnight movie on local T.V, hands tentatively finding each other and bodies gradually resting closer together in new configurations. 

He falls asleep on the floor, Indrid spooning him and Joe resting his head on his belly. Wakes up with Joe curled around him and Barclay cuddled up to Indrid, snoring softly. 

Duck slips out of the configuration, pads into the kitchen to start coffee. When Joe sneaks up behind him he gasps, snickers as the taller man kisses him good morning. Then he grabs two mugs, smiling to himself at his luck as he opens the fridge. After all, he already knows just how his new boyfriend likes his coffee. 

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

We Can Make Anything Work as Long as You Stand By Me (Sriracha, Part 26.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: With one year anniversary approaching, Hopper decided to make something special with the help of your mom. 

Warnings: Smut, but a sweet and loving one. Also, let’s say this is one of the last happy chapters before... Well... The summer of 1985 is approaching rather quickly, don’t you think?

A/N: I feel like we hadn’t got nasty here in a long time... So... Here we go. Inspired by Foreigner and their song I Wanna Know What Love Is (IT IS 1984 GUYS, IT’S ALRIGHT, DON’T COME AFTER ME.)

Word count: 3.3 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​, @creedslove​, @missdictatorme​

Master list: H E R E

Eleven staying at your parents began to occur daily - even your father liked the girl since she was interested in his fishing set, watching him taking care of it and he could tell her about his damn sports articles for hours and she didn't seem to get bored with his enthusiasm.

It was secretive every time you took her there, making sure that she's hidden under the blanket perfectly. Since your mom stopped working at the Post office, you called her every day before taking El there - and it was never a problem. First, you let your parents take her for one day in a week, that was in early June. You or Hopper always made sure to stick around just for El to feel safe. When you were sure that she can stay there on her own the whole day, you began to drop her there on her own.

The first bigger breakthrough came when the first of July was slowly approaching - it was almost scary that you and Hopper made the things work for a year almost. That was also the evening when he got another of his batshit crazy ideas. He asked your mom when he was dropping Eleven off on Friday, letting your mom taking care of her. Aiden was enthusiastic about being an uncle - that day, he planned to draw with El and then showing her a few cool tricks he taught Lady.

"Can I ask you a favor?" - Jim asked your mom nervously as he watched Eleven taking her shirt off, almost automatically pouring herself Molly’s lemonade. She was asking all the time before she learned that she can have anything that was put on the counter - whether it was Molly’s lemonade or her famous cakes.

"Go on." - Your mom let him in, pouring him a glass of water as well. It was awfully hot on that day - even if the summer had just started. Hopper really appreciated the glass, if he had to be honest.

"God, this is awfully cringy, but..." - Hopper stepped a bit away from Eleven who watched him cautiously, having a small sunburn on her face since she loved to spend too much time in the water. - "A year of me knowin’ your daughter is comin’ by and I thought that maybe you could have El for a sleepover so I can make her a nice evenin’?" - Hopper asked, getting red on his cheeks. Your mom opened up her mouth a bit and then furrowed.

"You want to take her out on a dinner, right?" - She asked suspiciously, not letting Hopper off of her sight for a single second. Hopper almost spilled the water out of his mouth before nodding. He was thinking more like kinky fucking all over the cabin, but he couldn't tell that your mom straight to her face.

"At the Spanish restaurant in the downtown, Molly, she loves the food there." - Hopper somehow got out of his mouth, praying for your mom to leave him alone. Then, she nodded, looking at Eleven.

"It will be a pleasure to have this anger here overnight. She can sleep in Y/N’s old bed, we can watch some movies, have fun. Sure." - Molly nodded, waiting for Hop to drink the rest of the water and leaving the house, telling Eleven once again that she better be good kiddo.

And as Jim and your mom had planned, so it happened. On Sunday, you had to leave for a shift, so Hopper took Eleven to your parents’ just an hour before you were supposed to end. Joyce, again, helped him with the outfit and tips of what to say, she helped him with making the reservation of a table since Hop was clueless with these things. And let me say, that man looked handsome. Like, really handsome.

He took his beige blazer out of the wardrobe, slicked his hair, shortened his beard and Eleven helped him with choosing the right pair of jeans and a shirt - they ended up picking a white one with blue, almost invisible stripes printed all over it. Even Molly was pleasantly surprised when she saw him looking like a million bucks when he opened up the garage door.

Meanwhile, you could just describe your shift at horrendous and you were happy, once the clock had shown eight o’clock. The people were nice, it wasn't the people that visited the bistro... It was just too hot and the sun was shining the whole damn day. Yet, you wanted to buy some fireworks and celebrate the fourth of July at your parents’ as a family, so each penny you made could help you a lot.

You felt like a hot pile of a mess when you were leaving the bistro on one of Jim’s shirts with a messy hairstyle and a pair of jeans - but that didn't matter to him at all while he was waiting for you in front of the door, leaned into your car with a fucking huge flower in his palms. You didn't even realize what day it is. The first of July - you started to work at the station last year that day and Jim had proclaimed it your anniversary day. And even if you would remember what day it was, Hop didn't look a man who remembers dates and anniversaries. Your whole face lit up as soon as you realized it's him, just with shortened hair, looking smooth as ever.

"What are you... Doing here?" - You giggled, leaning closer to kiss him. - "Did you leave her all alone at home?" - You ask worriedly, taking the flower he was giving you while you let him give you yet another kiss. And that was a proper French one.

"Don't worry about anythin’ today, alrite? This day’s yours." - Jim smiled, patting your bum carefully as he threw your stuff on your backseat, shoving the flower there carefully as well. You had to sit on the co-driver’s seat because this wasn't the end of his masterful plan.

Yes, you felt kinda worried about Eleven, looking at the profile of Hopper’s face, but you knew that if she wasn't safe, he wouldn't be that calm. Foreigner was playing through the car as his hand palmed your knee when he drove towards the restaurant. This was the best looking anniversary you ever had - at least that far.

Even if you felt like you're not dressed pretty enough to have a meal at the best Spanish restaurant you've ever been, you saw in his eyes that it doesn't matter, for fuck’s sake. All that mattered was that you two were there together on a great meal, having lots of great conversation which you hadn't got in weeks... Months even. Hopper also made you laugh hard many times and... It just felt like the old times when there was no Eleven, when you lived at his trail and when nobody knew about you, although you were sitting in a restaurant full of people. It felt like that small half of the month after you got back to Hawkins from Dakota and before Jim disappeared for three whole months.

You were grateful for what you had, but it reminded you of something much simpler than what your current situation was. It made you remember the days when you could walk around completely naked, having him any time you wished to, the long nights of laughs you spent in the bed and the swims in the quarry, both of you completely naked, kissing each other, being completely lost in the moment. You missed these moments. But Eleven was now a part of your life as well and honestly, you wouldn't change that for literally anything in the world.

The bigger surprise was waiting for you in the cabin; while you had to sit in the car all alone for what seemed to be whole eternity, Hopper was doing something in the cabin. You were already happy - but your breath got pretty much stuck when you saw tens, maybe hundreds, of candles lit up with I Wanna Know What Love Is playing in the background.

"You're trying here, Mr. Hopper, I gotta say." - You whispered when you felt his fingers dip into your tensed shoulders, making you grunt with pleasure, biting your lip in the process.

"You're just worth all of this, what can I say?" - Jim smiled into the crook of your neck, letting his palm slip under your/his shirt and below the belt on your jeans.

"You’ve never seemed to be the man who does great gestures. This is such a nice surprise. You might need to do this more often, huh?" - You hummed and moved your hips in the rhythm of the song. It was a truly great choice of music; this was a song for dancing, singing, nuzzling, slow fucking, just everything. And when the main verse of the whole song was playing? You simply got lost in the moment every time.

"And I have more." - Jim smiled, taking the flower out of your hand, putting it into a vase. You had a while just to look at your man - and dear got, he was extremely hot at that moment, just doing the little everyday things. - "But you need to take a shower, darlin’."

"Do I smell, Jim?" - You giggled and hugged him from the back, smiling into his blazer. - "Now you're smelly too." - You put your chin on his shoulder, kissing the crook of his neck with a smile.

"You don't smell, I just want to see my fiancée naked. Is that a sin?" - He asked back, putting the vase on the table, watching you walk away with a nasty grin on your face. Slowly, you undid the buttons, one after one, showing him the bra you got under. Knowing this, you would take something way sexier, but you found out just after your shift ended and you were looking like a damned witch living in the deepest swamp.

That didn't stop you from undoing your jeans, unhooking the button just before you entered the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Without hesitation, Hopper picked up both your shirt and your pants, folding them without putting too much effort into it, since you taught him to do his stuff. By the time the door opened up again, you were already covered in soap bubbles, your hair was completely damp, but you had a contained smile on your lips. At least until you heard sounds of a Polaroid taking and printing a photo.

"What are you doing, you old creep?" - You mumbled, dragging him under the warm water after you - which meant that he had to put the camera away.

"Creepin' on you, I guess?" - The man smiled into your lips before kissing you, feeling as you massaged the gel onto his arms.

"Well, I hope you're not creeping on anyone else like that." - You laughed back, looking at that man getting on his knees. There literally wasn't anything hotter than Hopper on his knees; that was a fact which needed to be stated. Especially when you knew what he's about to do to you.

"So you can see this David guy, but I can’t creep on anyone else. That’s kinda unfair, missy." - Jim's mouth said into your thigh before kissing it. You haven't done anything in the shower for a hella long time. This almost felt like a redemption of sorts.

You'd swear that you started melting at the first moment his tongue touched you right on the most sensitive spot of your body. Without putting too much effort into anything, you stopped the water, swung your leg over his shoulder and gripped his hair pretty tight to make sure he won't leave his damn place. You didn't even realize how much you've missed being eaten out anytime and anywhere just because Jim said and wanted so.

Before your brain could make out what in the name of God of is happening, you had two fingers inside of you, third about to be added masterfully, his lips were sucking the living soul out of you and you had some serious trouble with standing up straight. Your fingers were playing with his hair, smoothing it from side to side as you bit your lower lip, trying not to scream too loud.

"Fuck, goddamn, Jim I love you." - You mumbled the typical nonsense you did as you were about to come, feeling that bastard just humming into your pussy. The vibrations set you off - so in the next second, you were barely standing there, screaming curses, his name, the name of the Lord, just everything as the stars flew past your closed eyes.

"Don't you pass out on me. 'Cause then I'd have to give you a mouth to mouth and that David guy would roast me for that, baby." - Hopper laughed from kneeling between your legs, watching you from the below, holding both your legs in place.

"Shut your mouth, creep." - You laughed with your eyes still closed, feeling him standing up to turn on the water. And boy, oh, he was hard as stone. But when you wanted to palm that dick, he shushed your fingers away, turning your back at him, slowly massaging the gel onto your back.

"What the hell was that, James?" - You laughed, giving into the touch of his fingers, feeling the warm water run down your spine, the small of your back and your ass. - "I'm not allowed to touch you now? You're like a moody-ass wife."

"And you're my impatient husband. Have anyone told you that patience is a gift?" - He asked with a sigh when he leaned your head backward, slowly drawing circles onto your head. That felt ridiculously hot and relaxing.

"Captain America says bullshit like this in every issue." - You said, biting your lip under that touch. It was really simple, yet somehow getting you all worked up. - "Patience is a virtue."

"It sure is." - Jim's palm slapped your ass to give you a sign that he's done. Jesus, he was in a playful mood that night - and you had his palm literally imprinted on your right buttcheek. With a sigh, you put your bathrobe on and left the bathroom, watching that fucking jackass biting his bottom lip as he tried not to laugh out loud. And God, you felt so in love when he came out of the shower, just drying his hair as you smoked by the table with one of the cabin's windows open.

"What?" - Hopper asked, smiling back at you.

"You're so handsome and I feel like I don't tell you that often enough." - You mumbled back, finishing the cigarette right after, tapping it off.

"Yeah, I'm the princess and you should be kissing my damn hand every time I swin' my breathtaking ass past you." - He agreed, making you laugh once again before he sneaked in in front of you, letting one of the towels to the ground.

"Hopper, the clothes and, ugh..." - You mumbled, bending your head backward, sighing at that man of yours.

"I'll do all of 'em tomorrow." - Jim promised, helping you to stand up before he kissed you.

"You're going to be the fucking death of me, I swear, James Hopper." - You whispered, pulling for another kiss as you tried to get the bathrobe off as quickly as you could, doing the same with the second towel around his ass.

Before you could say anything else, your back was pressed into the table while that bastard put both your knees into a fucking spread eagle. You barely remembered this position being as filling as it was - you just felt your eyes rolling backward when his dick slipped inside. This was the Jim you fell in love with - the man fucking you at a fast pace with his thumb wrapped around that small bundle of nerves between your legs.

You missed this playful sex. You loved the short pauses when he just wiggled his hips to make you shake in arousal, you lived for those small moments when he stopped to smile at you as he just pulled out and then came back in full force, making you squirm. This man was a piece of art and no-one could tell you otherwise.

"Can I come?" - You asked with a teasing smile on your lips, basically touching your ribs with your knees. You didn't know how Jim pulled that one off during each of these sessions, but he turned you into a fucking gymnast when he had his dick buried deep within you.

"Not unless I say so, I'm the law in this cabin." - Jim got out through his gritted teeth when he pulled your ankle on his shoulder, kissing it. - "Put your hand in use, I wanna try somethin' nasty I heard of from Callahan. You're gonna tell me once it'd raise a red flag." - Jim whispered you and you nodded frantically, feeling the rhythm fasten up. You put your hand on your clit, flicking it as a damn DJ vinyl and then you felt it and you screamed, making Hopper completely freeze down with shock in his eyes.

His thumb gently rubbed the back entrance - not getting in, just slowly rubbed around it. You opened up your mouth and your heart rate was literally over the top.

"You didn't like that, am I rite?" - He whispered while breathing heavily, still gently moving inside of you.

"I swear that I didn't know where this came from. It's strange... But that doesn't think I didn't like it. I just need to try more of that." - You reassured him quietly, wiggling your lips a bit.

So he tried it again. You felt a strange tightness every time he brushed over that spot. It made you jump a bit, pulling your buttcheeks together for a small second. You closed your eyes and made a high-pitched noise, shaking a bit. This was giving you a completely different dimension of love-making. It was hugging your whole torso, it wrapped around your head and made your heart beat faster. And then, without any warning, you came.

To be honest, you were basically yelling his name and you banged the back of your head into the table as you did so, shaking a good five minutes after Jim ended with you. You barely knew that Jim came on your belly and boobs because you were out of the world, your head was spinning. Damn this was a sweet treat.

"I think we need to do anniversary sex more often." - You mumbled tiredly, having your eyes closed. The whole feeling was so endearing for you that you couldn't imagine any other way Hopper could fuck you any better. He outdid himself literally every time. - "And I need to thank Callahan, because, holy fucking shit."

"I was that good?" - Jim asked cockily, making you sit up to clean you up with one of the towels.

"This was the best sex I've ever fucking had." - You smiled lazily, pulling him for another kiss. - "And I love you so damn much."

"Same here. But we should put you to sleep or you'd fall asleep right on this table and... I have to clean this damn place up because I promised to." - Jim smiled at you, hugging you tightly, letting your arms circle around his waist.

You were just two people in love and nothing could feel better at that moment.

[syntaxeme]

Sugar is Sweet (and So Are You) ch.3

[First Chapter] [Next Chapter (coming soon!)] [Read on AO3] [Support me on Ko-fi] Rating: T Summary: Plagued by jealousy toward the men Angel sleeps with, Alastor comes up with a plan to keep Angel from having to work the streets. He wasn’t planning on becoming an actual client, but having Angel all to himself might prove too sweet to give up–for as long as he can afford it, that is.

— — —

Niffty was as apt and eager a sous chef as one could hope for, not only happy to follow directions to a T but intent on keeping their workspace neat at the same time. Concentrating on cooking had the desired effect of keeping Alastor too busy to fret over Angel’s absence (or anything else regarding him), and it wasn’t until around 7, as he was finishing up his cooking, that he was forcibly reminded of those concerns.

“Mm, it smells amazing in here,” Angel called as he entered the room, and Alastor had to force himself not to look back at him. Niffty had already gone off to set things up in the second floor ballroom, so they were alone in the kitchen. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Etouffee and rice. Blackened snapper filets. Maque choux.” He indicated each dish on the stove and counter respectively. “Though that has tasso in it, so someone who isn’t comfortable eating pork should probably avoid it.” It was still somewhat amusing that Angel eschewed pork products purely because he had a pet pig, while Alastor himself had never been squeamish about meat from any source. To each his own, he supposed.

“Shit, you musta been at it for hours, then.” The spider came over to lean against the counter at his side and leaned toward the pan of etouffee Alastor was stirring with a wooden spoon, opening his mouth expectantly. “Aah…”

The Radio Demon’s eyes narrowed, and instead of complying, he used his free hand to push Angel’s chin upward and close his mouth again. “You’ll be able to try it when everyone else does. Assuming you didn’t have dinner while you were out.”

“Aw, c’mon, I don’t get any special treatment? Are ya mad at me or somethin’?”

“Where have you been?” Alastor asked, ignoring the question, then added, “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Ooh, you are mad. Ya gonna punish me?” Angel purred. When he saw that Alastor’s expression was utterly devoid of amusement, he sighed and shook his head. “Take a better look at me and see if ya can’t guess.” Posing against the edge of the counter, he ran one hand through his hair (which Alastor now noticed had been styled and formed into loose curls) and used the lower pair to smooth the magenta dress he was wearing (a daring halter number that covered his chest but bared his shoulders—not a familiar part of his existing wardrobe). His nails were painted to match, and the shoes looked new as well.

“You went…shopping?”

“Among other things. Just a little self-care day, a little pampering. Because I deserve it. Don’t I, Daddy?” he concluded with a playful smirk that said there was only one correct answer.

“I suppose.” Alastor wasn’t sure what it was about that new title Angel had given him that flustered him so. It wasn’t any sort of disconcerting Freudian paraphilia, he was sure. Maybe it was the way Angel said it, as an indication of familiarity and the role he’d been cast in this relationship. An admission of authority. It made him feel…powerful. Powerful in a way he wasn’t used to feeling.

“What’d you think, I was runnin’ off to meet some other guy?” Angel asked, hitting the nail exactly on the head. “Why should I when you already said you’re takin’ care of me? I wouldn’t’ve figured you were the kinda guy to get jealous that easily, but it’s sweet you wanna keep me to yourself.”

You have no idea. “And the woman you were with?” the Radio Demon prompted, finally deciding that his etouffee was ready to be served and taking it off the heat. As he was arranging the various dishes on a catering trolley to take them upstairs, he continued, “The one who pulled you out of your meeting with Charlie for all this?”

“She’s my manager. Or she was, I guess. I told her about this”—Angel gestured between the two of them—“earlier, and she wanted the details. Then I was already out, I had some cash to burn, and I figured I should show ya what you’re payin’ for here.” As Alastor was rolling his sleeves back down and readjusting his cuffs, Angel stepped in close to drape his arms over the Radio Demon’s shoulders. He also caught Alastor’s hands to pull them around his own waist, drawing their bodies close together and demanding his attention. “So, you like? Or should I be tryin’ harder?” If he tried much harder, Alastor’s poor heart was likely to give out from overexertion.

“You do look nice, cher,” he confessed, allowing his hands to rest tentatively on Angel’s back and forcibly withholding his full opinion on the subject—that he enjoyed the idea of Angel getting dolled up to impress him, that he loved knowing his support had bought the spider a few hours’ indulgence, that he was terribly tempted to blow off the dinner he was supposed to be serving and spend the time alone with Angel instead.

“Look all ya want, honey.” As he leaned in for a kiss, the tension in Alastor’s body only heightened, but he forced himself not to retreat (or maybe he was so deer-in-headlights frozen that he couldn’t have fled if he’d wanted to). As much as he wanted what Angel was offering, he was equally afraid of embarrassing himself with his inexperience.

“Alastor, do you need—oh!” Just as he’d gathered his courage and tilted his head upward to meet Angel’s lips, Niffty’s voice rang through the kitchen. He reflexively stepped back at the sound, breaking the spider’s hold on him and leaving about two feet’s distance between them.

“What was that, dear?” he asked, unsure whether the smile he flashed her was intended to intimidate or reassure. It made little difference, as she was pointedly avoiding looking at him, her cheeks flushed.

“Uh, everything’s ready upstairs. I came to see if you need any help taking stuff up.”

“No. Thank you. Go on ahead and we’ll be up shortly.” She wasn’t eager to argue and zipped out of the room as quickly as she’d appeared, leaving Alastor to clear his throat awkwardly as he swept his jacket back on.

“Why does it bother you if the others know?” Angel asked, strolling along behind Alastor as he pushed the trolley out of the kitchen and toward the elevator. He didn’t seem offended, just curious, likely because he himself had no issue about being open with his sexual dealings.

“I don’t know that it bothers me, per se. But whatever goes on between you and me is none of their affair.” Especially Charlie.

“Sure, I guess, but it still seems kinda shitty to hafta act different just because someone else is around.” When Alastor didn’t answer right away, Angel quickly went on, “I mean, at the end of the day, it’s whatever you want. Just knowin’ you, I woulda figured you wouldn’t care what anybody else thought of it.”

When they got to the ballroom, true to Charlie’s word, everyone was gathered already, hovering around the handful of tables scattered throughout the room and sipping cocktails (provided by Husk, who had set up a sort of half bar by the door). Luckily, Alastor’s cooking experience in life had given him plenty of experience with serving large groups, so this was nothing he couldn’t handle. “Sorry to keep everyone waiting; I’m sure you’re all starved by now!”

“Nope, you’re just in time.” Charlie sidled up to him as he was setting out the dishes along the banquet tables lining the far wall. “I can’t blame you if you got a little distracted.” She nodded heavily toward Angel, who had been crowded by a few of their female patrons all ooh-ing and aah-ing over his outfit.

“What, this old thing?” he purred, posing deliberately and beaming from the attention. His smile was one of the first things the Radio Demon had come to admire about him, and knowing he himself had caused it was even more satisfying. Angel was beautiful; there was no denying that. So why, Alastor wondered, should he even bother trying?

“Yes, maybe I was,” he agreed with Charlie’s statement as he finished up setting out the spread. He ignored her wide eyes and delighted grin as he swept the trolley to one side and gestured to the table with a flourish. “Well, here we are! There should be plenty for everyone, so don’t be shy.”

Dinner didn’t go exactly the way he’d expected. He and Angel shared a table with Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, and Husk, and although the conversation was the sort typical of the group, he couldn’t help feeling Angel was paying him more attention than usual. Of course, ever since the hotel’s opening, the two had developed a certain chemistry, a sort of quick-fire volley of snarky comments and clever comebacks, but it felt softer on this particular evening. Different. And Alastor found he didn’t mind it.

He still hesitated and drew away when Angel got overtly affectionate—stroking lightly along his hand, leaning close to speak into his ear, playfully toying with his hair—but it was more for his own comfort than out of concern about what anyone else might think. Angel was right in saying that their opinions shouldn’t matter, and if it meant Alastor didn’t have to deliberately maintain his distance, he didn’t mind dealing with their curious glances and whispers.

When everyone had eaten their fill, the other patrons dispersed gradually until only the hotel’s staff was left in the ballroom, chatting long past dark. Husk was the first one to retire, followed soon by Vaggie gently leading a somewhat tipsy Charlie toward the doors as well.

“Wait, wait,” Charlie insisted, “shouldn’t we help clean up?”

“Nope!” Niffty answered cheerfully, waving her onward. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry!” In fact, she was already up and starting to gather plates, apparently no less energetic after dinner and drinks—or at least not enough to keep her from happily working.

“I suppose we’ll leave you to it, then,” Alastor agreed, getting to his feet as well. Angel followed along without prompting.

“Y’know,” he started as they took the stairs to the third floor, where Alastor’s room was located, “you’re a pretty good cook, Al. But I think that meal was missin’ somethin’.”

“Oh? What’s that?” The notion was actually a bit insulting.

“Don’t get me wrong; you make a helluva dinner. But”—he caught Alastor’s hand as they reached the door labeled 313—“now I’m in the mood for somethin’ sweet. So what’s for dessert?”

In literal terms, Alastor had never cared much for overly sweet things. Somehow, he got the feeling Angel wasn’t talking about beignets. He froze up for a moment, having failed to consider this aspect of the evening. Of course, it was only logical that Angel’s newly affectionate attitude toward him would include an offer like this, based on his usual interactions with clients.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he answered. “I’m typically not much for sweets.”

Angel hesitated, tilting his head to one side, then his expression changed. Pouting slightly, he ran a hand through his hair to loosen his curls a little more. “But you can make an exception for me, right? I’ll get so cold up in my room all by myself, Daddy,” he whined, batting his eyes, looking strangely smaller and more fragile than usual. Raising Alastor’s hand up to his cheek and nuzzling against it, he suggested, “Lemme sleep here with you instead.”

Alastor didn’t respond right away. Although he wanted to believe that Angel had a genuine desire to be near him, something about this proposition felt artificial, almost like a game, like he was putting on an act for Alastor’s benefit. And if that was the case, he had no interest in it. He wanted Angel’s genuine self, the confident, assertive, clever individual he’d come to know and enjoy, not whatever persona he put on to please his clients.

“If you want to be here, cher, then by all means, stay. If you’re offering purely for my benefit, however, you can go back to your own room,” he said plainly, and Angel frowned.

“I dunno what that means,” he sighed, crossing both pairs of arms. Even in his irritation, he seemed more like himself, which was an improvement. “D’you not get how this works? You’re takin’ care of me, so I’ll take care of you. I don’t like to welch on a deal, but you gotta tell me what ya want if I’m gonna do it.” The prospect of being ‘taken care of’ by Angel, even if not in the way he had in mind, was immensely appealing. But only if there was a good reason behind it.

“I just did. I’m paying for your time so that you can choose what to do with it. If you’d like to stay, that’s fine. In fact, I think I would like you to,” he confessed, his gaze lingering somewhere around Angel’s right shoulder so their eyes wouldn’t meet. “But if you see this as a professional obligation, if you’re only doing it because I’m paying you, let me say that you have no need to. I don’t want you to make it a chore to be around me.”

The sound Angel let out was sort of a laugh, sort of a scoff, sort of dismissive and uncomfortable at the same time. “C’mon, Al, we both know what this is; ya don’t hafta feel guilty about it. You paid already, so whatever ya want from me is yours fair and square. This is what I do. It ain’t a big deal.”

Yes, that’s what I was afraid of. Refusing to let his smile slip or otherwise betray how much the statement bothered him, Alastor instead answered, “Good night, Angel.”

The spider stood by in silence while Alastor turned to unlock the room and step inside, but when he tried to shut the door, Angel caught it with two hands to stop him. With a note of something almost like guilt in his voice, he conceded very quietly, “I wanna stay.”

Although it was difficult to believe given the sadness on his face, Alastor found himself a bit shaken by seeing Angel so uncomfortable. Continuing to argue just wasn’t worth upsetting him more. So he took a step back out of the doorway and motioned for Angel to come inside, gesturing absently at the lamp in the corner so it flickered to life and bathed the room in dim red light.

Angel shivered as he crossed the threshold, lending some credence to his excuse of being cold, and his gait was noticeably less self-assured than usual as he made his way across the room to Alastor’s bed. Another moment’s hesitation, and he gestured to the bed. “Can I…?”

“Of course.” Alastor concentrated on shrugging out of his coat and removing his shoes and tie as Angel sat on the bed and toed his own shoes off, then crawled onto the mattress on all fours, coming over to meet Alastor where he stood at the other side.

Sitting up on his knees, sliding the edge of his dress up slightly, he asked, “You wanna help me outta this?”

Oh. Somehow, Alastor had failed to realize that in allowing Angel to stay the night, he was agreeing to something more than just enjoying his company. But at this point, it seemed too late to change his mind.

It took a moment for him to compose himself enough to form a response. “If you like.” His hands came to rest on Angel’s hips, only shaking slightly, and slid slowly downward to the skirt’s hemline, where he froze up again. Angel must have noticed his hesitation, as he tried to smooth the process by leaning in for a kiss. It was quick and soft, as if inviting Alastor to take more if he wanted. And he did.

Since this was something he felt much more comfortable exploring, he focused all his attention on it, capturing Angel’s lips with his own more firmly this time. It felt surprisingly natural to slip his tongue into the spider’s mouth, and the breathless moan Angel let out only encouraged him further. He did have a taste, Alastor found, but it wasn’t actually sweet. Enjoyable nevertheless. Every aspect of this experience was so foreign and fascinating, from the softness of Angel’s chest pressed against his to the heat of his mouth to his hands grasping at Alastor’s shoulders. He tried to pull away at least two separate times before Alastor realized that he should let go. As Angel was catching his breath, the Radio Demon realized he’d been so absorbed in the kiss that he hadn’t noticed deft hands unbuttoning his shirt, and he hastened to close it up again.

“Are you gonna…get in bed with me or what?” Angel managed, collapsing to sit and still panting softly, open-mouthed. The position he was in, long legs folded against the bed, forced his skirt even higher up his thighs. Alastor was utterly beside himself, torn in a way he’d never been before.

He had no idea what he wanted out of this moment. No, that was wrong; the problem was that he had entirely too many ideas. Part of him wanted to pin Angel to the bed and keep his mouth thoroughly occupied for the next hour. Part of him wanted to tear that dress off him and explore every inch of bare skin with his eyes, his hands, his lips. Part of him wanted to pretend he had no anxiety about this matter and spend the rest of the night satisfying his many curiosities about how it might feel to share that kind of intimacy with Angel.

Yet another very loud part was insisting that all the other parts were insane, that allowing anyone that close was asking for trouble, and that the best recourse was simply to throw the spider out, lock the door, and pretend none of this had ever happened. His mind was giving so many imperative all at once that it was impossible to choose which to act on.

“Al?” When Angel’s hand found his arm, he was so high-strung that he immediately jerked away from the touch, reeling back a step or two and struggling to get a hold of himself before he said or did anything he’d regret. Worst of all, Angel looked confused, guilty, even worried about him. “You okay?”

“Yes. No. I—” He let out an entirely mirthless laugh, simply because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “I’m sorry. You…maybe you should…go.” It was stupid of him to have expected that he could change his stripes, so to speak, that easily. He knew what he was. He knew it didn’t lend itself well to affection of any sort. No one should be forced to put up with that, especially not one of the few people Alastor genuinely cared for.

“Go? But I thought… I mean, did I do somethin’ wrong?” Angel asked, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed but mercifully not making any move to touch him. “I dunno what happened.”

“Nothing. It’s not you.” There he was, making an absolute fool of himself, just as he’d feared. But at the same time, it wasn’t right to make Angel feel as if he were in the wrong. It took all Alastor’s effort to force himself to keep smiling as he continued, “I’m sorry, cher. I’ve never…done this before.”

“What, paid for sex?” Angel laughed, and although it didn’t seem ridiculing, it didn’t help, either. When Alastor didn’t respond, he quickly sobered and realized: “Oh, y’mean you’ve never…at all? Uh, shit, I just figured—hey, it’s fine, though! I been with virgins before; it ain’t a big deal. We can take it slow if ya want.” Somehow, although they were probably meant to be reassuring, the words did nothing to ease Alastor’s anxiety.

“That’s probably for the best.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want to try. Eventually. He was always interested in a new experience, and he did want to be close to Angel. But this evening had already made it quite clear that he had some mental blocks to work around before anything like that would be possible. “I don’t mean to make this difficult for you. I’m sure you were expecting—”

“Alastor.” Angel leaned his head down to catch the Radio Demon’s gaze (which was directed toward the floor), and although his smile was much softer than the wicked grin he usually wore, it still felt genuine. “It’s fine. You’re payin’ for my time and my company, but it’s up to you what you wanna do with it. If ya wanna fuck me, I’m up for it. If ya wanna kiss me again and then see where it goes, I’m fine with that too. If ya just want me to sleep here, I can.” After a moment’s hesitation and with somewhat dampened enthusiasm, he added, “Hell, if ya want me to leave ya alone and go to my own room—”

“I don’t,” Alastor answered quickly, “want that.”

Angel seemed pleased with the concession. “Point is, it’s up to you. Whatever you pick is fine by me. So don’t worry too much about what I ‘expect.’ I’d rather be here with you than off at some shithole motel with a john I can’t trust.”

Meaning he trusts me? That notion made Alastor feel a million times better about the night, all awkwardness and uncertainty included. At the same time, Angel’s assurance that he was in control of their interaction was an immense comfort in itself. Maybe these feelings—comfort, control, confidence—were what he was actually paying for.

Feeling at least somewhat steadier now, he seated himself on the bed next to Angel and leaned in to kiss his cheek, causing his slight smile to widen into something more playful. ‘Something sweet’ indeed. “I do want you to stay the night, ma sucrette. And I wouldn’t say no to more of those kisses.”

“Sucrette? What’s that?”

Tilting Angel’s chin upward and running a thumb lightly across his lips, Alastor replied, “Why, it’s you, sweetness.”

It may have been a trick of the light, but it certainly looked like Angel was blushing as they settled into bed.

Charming.

He moved close under the covers to put himself in Alastor’s arms, and after a moment of figuring out how their bodies fit together in an embrace, there was another kiss. And another. Knowing he wasn’t expected to go any further made it easier for Alastor to relax and enjoy their nearness for what it was. And there was no shortage of things to enjoy about it. He looked forward to discovering and further exploring each one in the days to come.

[shaeli-dawson]

Ring in the New Year

Over the last few days or so, it had become even more of a concern as to why the thief had been acting off. It had only gotten worse when he decided to give her a "quest" of sorts for goods for the evening. She figure she might as well get something for them to eat while she was out so she wouldn't have to worry about him burning her apartment down. Every so often she glances in the direction of her apartment with a pout and paranoia rattling her brain. 

 'It's not what you think..stop it.' 

 Even trying to gather food seemed impossible as she already started to feel a familiar sinking feeling in her chest every time she looked back. Shaking her head over and over, she tries to busy herself while figuring out what to exactly he meant by snacks. Eventually she throws her hands up and looks up to the sky.

 'It's not what you think, he doesn't have anyone there. Ma's not even there... Not like this though, please..'

Through the markets she went in trying to find whatever she could. People were already rushing for the evening to get to their own celebrations making it scarce to say the least. As if it were a beacon of hope, she spots the Pandaren noodle cart and nearly sprints to the vendor. She nearly had to shove her way through to throw her coin down onto the counter to get the goods along with whatever tea cakes and sweets they may have made. As for an added bonus, the elderly bear gave her a bundle of sparklers and strings of fire crackers. 

"For the new year! Celebrate with prosperity and a full belly!" Just seeing the smiling Pandaren made her heart ache for a moment thinking of her own adopted family.

He paced. And paced some more. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck into his shirt collar and down between his eyes. The handkerchief he had been using to try to stem the tides was already drowning, forcing him to ring it out multiple times. 

‘She's going to run... she's going to say no and run like the desert,’ he thought, checking the twin ice buckets that held two bottles of the most expensive bourbon he could find. ‘What if she already suspects and took my supply request and left?! She might be halfway to iron forge by now for all I know!!’ 

The thief adjusted the blue crystal rose he had gotten her that sat in a thin vase between the bourbon, candle light for hundreds of candles around the room reflecting like golden suns within each petal. ‘Maybe I shouldn't... I don’t want to lose her... I cant lose her. Bloody woman is the best thing that ever happened to me!’

Turning to face the door, he swallowed and tried to fix his hair, that sodden handkerchief returning to his neck and brow.  ‘You don't know until you try. She doesn't come back you have your answer...’ The stone ring box paused I  his fingers, worry etching into the lines of his forehead. "Please come home..."

With the bags of food and supplies, she begins to make her way back to the apartment. Each step taken, she could swear her grip on them grew tight enough to damn near tear through them. Even as she got into the Trade District, she found herself stopping and turning around as if to go for the gate. 

'No! Don't you dare. It's not what you think! Everything is fine, maybe he just got sick or something? That has to be it. He's not going to take everything and leave. Just breathe, get home. He's there.' 

Straightening herself up again, she turns back around toward the apartment once more. As she ascends the stairs, she could feel her heart pounding against her chest. The ringing in her ears and pound of the organ making her deaf almost. Not even the good wishes from other patrons caught her attention. When she came to stand before the door, she takes another deep breath and juggles the bags in one arm to fumble with the door handle.

"Sorry for taking so long I-" she stops seeing the light in her apartment dimmed. Candles decorating the interior make her slowly lowers the bags onto the nearby table. "D-Declan?" Was it some odd cruel trap for her? Panic was already welling up inside of her as she closes the door behind her, but out of habit she locked the only exit in one motion. If he was in there, he at least couldn't escape.

Declan popped out of the kitchen, a final candle in his hand, freshly lit. Too fresh as the match he used burned straight to his fingers. "Shaeli-Owfuck!" He shook his hand to put out the match and stuck his burnt finger in his mouth, offering a nervous smile. With how much he was sweating,  the candlelight glittering over his most skin made him look almost crystal like himself. He set the candle down in a random place and hustled over to help with the bags. 

"You's came back!" The thief sounded relieved, though that cloud of worry never left his features. "I's uh...wanted t'surprise you wif'h a good new years treat... here." He simply took the bags and headed to the living room where the bourbon and the rose waited. The bags were set beneath the table for now as he turned to look at her. "Figured we's should ring it in right proper, aye? N'you's got back wif'hout a moment t'spare." He snatched the rose and offered it to her. "For you's. Nae stolen neif'her. Nof'hin t'night be nicked. I's paid for it all legal like. Hand to t'Gods I swears it." Now he was babbling, the tick of the clock charging towards midnight tugging his nerves. "And uh... got's somef'hin else too...."  

Her heart skipped a beat when hearing her name from the kitchen. Even with what little light the candles had to offer, she wasn't so blind as to not see all the sweating that had soaked him to the bone. What was going on? With his concern of her coming back, she begins to play every possible scenario down to the very worst in her mind. She tries her best to stay calm, but all of this started to feel beyond surreal for her. 

"Why wouldn't come back?" she asks while trying to chuckle after. She wasn't going to admit nearly bolting for the gate down the round.  "Besides this is my place first!" 

Taking the crystal rose in hand, she blinks a few times to take in the craftsmanship of the trinket. Slowly she rotates it to allow the glow of the candles to touch the petals. His mention of actually paying for it all made her pause to look up at him. The babbling only added to her suspicion and worry as if it were a precursor for something far worse.

"Well was worried you'd find Kat or somef'hin n'go for drinks... knowin' she nae be fond oh m'self." He grinned. It was a flimsy excuse but it was all his head could think of. A hand dove into his pocket as he glanced at the clock and took a breath, digging out the crystal ring box and fumbling with it. Outside it looked like a regular, boring rock. But within were the small blue and purple Crystals that held the ring.

 Tick.....Tick....Tick... 

Declan stood, watching Shaeli as he waited, feeling like the clock was deliberately taking its sweet time. "Shaeli... i's uh..." he started, glancing to the clock again.

3...2...1. 

It finally chimed midnight and the world outside the small apartment erupted with cheers, whizzpoppers, fireworks and celebration. Declan inhaled and stepped closer to her, sweating more now. His shirt stuck to him and his hair had started frizzing. "Gots n'adventure for us bof'h, aye? One i's can only go on wif'h yourself. No one else. " he licked his lips again and shaking, got down on one knee, praying to every God he could remember that Shaeli didn't bolt. "Would you's, Shaeli... uh... share t'greatest, possibly deadliest adventure o'our lives.... wif'h m'dumbass self... n'Marry me?"

"Love you's, Shaeli."

The sound of the celebration outside causes the Jeweler to jump at the first loud bang of a firework. The different colors seeping into the windows of her apartment combining with the candlelight. Everything seemed to happen quickly as she stands there before him all while still clutching the rose in her hand. The very second he drops to one knee, everything else seems to fade away as she focuses solely on him. Eyes widen as the question fumbles out of his lips and her own falling open. 

‘Oh gods she looks like  deer in lamplight... please don’t bolt, please don’t bolt, please don’t bolt!... Did I lock the window??’ ran through his mind as he gulped in a breath and held it, watching her jaw fall open. She froze, her legs were numb at this point as her knees had locked in place. While her mind was telling her to run to the farthest reaches of Azeroth, her body denied it. Her gaze shoots down to the box with the crystal interior and what lay nestled inside of it. As she tries to compel herself to move forward just enough for her legs to give out on her. Her arms wrapping around him and about knocks him onto his back. She starts to feel woozy as the blood starts rushing through her again. 

"Y-ye..I-uhm..Yes!" she blurts out. What fear she held turned into excitement and sheer joy as she presses her lips firmly to his. All of that worrying for nothing, all that fear bottling up that he wanted to leave her after all this time vanished.

‘Did she say yes? I heard a yes... she didn’t run!!’ All that sweating and worrying was for nothing, his next words muffled out by the sudden press of her lips to his as he decided to fall the rest of the way to his back, pulling her with him.

"Y'didn'nae run!" He grinned, the expression so filled with joy it hurt his cheeks, but he didn’t care. "I's even put a cow skull in t'hallway t'stop you's just in case." The thief chuckled, holding the ring up for her. "Try it on, Luv." ‘ Thank you whatever Gods chose fit to watch over this tonight!’ he sang in his head, nearly wriggling with joy.

"No I didn't!" she grins from ear to ear at the thought. Though his comment with the cow skull did get him a quick sock to the shoulder before holding the ring up. Now able to get a better look at it, she noticed the gems that were set in the white gold band. The peridot that was close to her eyes and the sapphire for his. She slides it onto her finger and it felt odd at first to see another band on it. Her mind going back to the one hidden under her pedant soon comes to mind making her chuckle.

"Well, we're not drunk this time and I'll be remembering it!" Her hands rest on his chest slowly sliding up to either side of his neck. There was no wiping the smile away from her lips anytime soon even if her cheeks hurt. With her forehead pressed to his, she closes her eyes.

"I love you, Declan."

[ @bourbonandbadluck​ ]

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XVI

Who We Are

Trigger Warnings: Canon violence/language/drug, alcohol and gun use. Suggestive content.

Bloody Mess Warning!

Game spoilers!

Please enjoy!

 “Attention Tenpines, this is General Wraith. Captain Danse’s patrol is to hold position there. I repeat; the long patrol from Sanctuary is to remain in Tenpines until further notice! Do you read?!”

“Transmission received; however the patrol has left. Do you copy? General?”

Wraith stood frozen as her field of vision narrowed to single point to the east. The radio operator’s urgent questions growing dim then silent as the rushing, roaring reverberations of fear and rage filled her ears.

“General?”

 Infamy was frustrated.

The plan had been to take out the largest of the two adults then set the herd on the other while Atom’s Assassin made short work of the child. A swift and easy kill, it would allow them to move on to MacCready and minimalize the loss of the ferals.

Infamy was misinformed.

Expertly trained, Shaun was far and away from an easy kill. Ignoring the cut on his hand, his priority was helping MacCready. But before he could, Shaun decided that the glowing one, leering and taunting before him, needed to be dealt with first.

Rad-X… need Rad-X…

Normally while facing an opponent, Infamy could tune into visual cues that would allow them to predict when and where the next attack would come. But there was something different about this child; his whole presence suddenly changed to what could only be described as absolute stillness.

Infamy was intrigued.

The ghoul charged him as soon as Shaun reached for the chem pocket on his bandolier. Allowing the glowing one to close the distance he deflected their blade and twisted away trying to trip them as they passed. Just as the weapons came together, his opponent sent a small burst of radiation down their arm, directly into his face.

When the child dropped to the ground, his Pip-boy Geiger counter ticking wildly, Infamy had a passing notion that this might be a short fight after all. Triumph turned to dismay as Shaun slashed their ankle in an attempt to sever their Achilles tendon. Rolling a few feet away then vaulting back to his feet, the youth turned back to Infamy, his face expressionless.  

“Back where we started? Is that what you think? Won round two?! Oh very good, little boy. But, mine will heal in a blink… your irradiated wound will take much, much longer though. Hmm? Yes, that’s right; poison, poison, poison. Hehe.”

A sudden, agonized scream from the cliffside indicated Dogmeat had found Danse’s shooter and the ferals were beginning to dwindling as MacCready overcame them.

Infamy was in trouble.

In the space of a blink Shaun flicked his wrist and a small throwing knife flew toward the ghoul. Using the distraction he dashed to his fallen rifle. Rather than stoop to retrieve it, he hooked the strap with his boot and spun it up his body while simultaneously sheathing his bayonet; turning and firing twice into Infamy’s central mass as soon as the weapon was in his hands.

Answering an unspoken call, the few remaining ferals disengaged from MacCready and sprinted to the assassin.  The glowing one, who had been hunched over the wounds on their torso, suddenly lifted their head and threw back their shoulders, casting out an enormous blast of radiation. Pushed to the ground, Shaun was unable to fire again and the collective escaped into the brush. Staggering to his feet, he prepared to pursue, but MacCready’s call stopped him.

“Shaun! RadAway, NOW!”

His vision blurred, he fumbled with the snaps, “I… don’t… are you…”

MacCready screaming his name was the last thing he heard before the dirt rushed up to meet him and the world turned to black.    

  He couldn’t see.

Pain. So, so much pain. Breathing hurts… where? What happened to me? What was I doing?

He couldn’t feel his leg.

Is it gone?! No… it’s underneath… I can feel blood… Why CAN’T I SEE?!

All he could hear was ringing.

If I call, will anyone hear me? I think… need… a medic. I… I need…

“Elder Maxson… Arthur? Haylen! Rhys! Are you there?!”

Where is my armor?! Am I still on the Prydwen? Did… did she fall?!

“Can anyone hear me?! I… I need help… please…”

  “Open your eyes for me, kiddo.”

MacCready’s voice seemed far away.

“Please, buddy.”

“RJ… you’re squeezing my hand too tight.”

Shaun could feel strong arms gently embrace him and then soft shaking as MacCready’s fear was broadcast through his touch.

“You scared me half to death, kid.”

“Danse!” Lurching to his feet, Shaun lost his balance and had to rest against MacCready, “Ugh, it’s so dark. How long was I out? We have to go look for him!”

“You took a pretty heavy, direct hit. You’ve been out for almost an hour.” Holding him at arm’s length, MacCready’s brow was furrowed; he knew Shaun wouldn’t like what he was about to say, “I’m taking you back to Tenpines…”

“NO!” Wrenching himself free, he pointed accusingly, “I know you don’t like him, but he’s our friend! We can’t just leave him! He needs our help! He may still be alive…”

“Or he’s not.” Shaun’s shocked and angry expression made MacCready hate himself, “I never said I was going to abandon anybody. Dogmeat will stay. You are still sick. You need help. Right now you’re alive and right in front of me. You are the priority.” He lifted his chin, “The faster we get to Tenpines the faster I’m back out here, with a Minutemen medic, looking for our friend.”

Finally noticing the pain and fatigue in MacCready’s voice, Shaun switched on his Pip-boy lamp and took a closer look at him, “OH MY GOD… YOUR EAR!”

“Ow! I can still hear out of it, ya know.”

Wraith had modded a new duster for MacCready and so in spite of being chewed and clawed at by a baker’s dozen of feral ghouls, none of his injuries were life threatening. His face had suffered some minor bruises and scratches but the thing that was really pissing him off was his ear.

“Don’t tell me how much is left… fu… frickin’ monster bit me…” Turning away from the light he set a brisk pace north, “And no, I don’t want a stimpak or gauze or… it’s fine, just let it bleed.”

Wordlessly, Shaun put the rejected aid back in his pockets and followed.

He’s… he’s such a badass!

   Wraith, Hancock and Curie were sprinting to Tenpines. Flanked by the Gáe Bulg Hounds (including Strong), all three were wearing Heavy Dragoon armor, packed to the gorget with as much heavy-duty ordinance and medical equipment as possible. Having little to no information on the size and firepower of Infamy’s force, Wraith was leaving nothing to chance. This wasn’t a time for stealth.

The Calvary was on their way.

  “MacCready, I want to find him as much as you do, but I don’t think climbing down a cliff in the dark is… safe.”

“I didn’t ask for your stupid opinion, Jesse. I told you to come over here and hold a flashlight!”

After leaving Shaun in the care of the Tenpines settlers, MacCready, the settlement’s head medic Varsha and two Minutemen ran back to Dogmeat. They found the canine sitting on the cliff’s edge, whining while looking down to where Danse had fallen.

“It’s fine, Jesse. Just do as he says.” Varsha tied a rope to a nearby tree stump, “Louie, I want the rest of the lines and the block and tackle secured from those trunks over there and we should weight test them before we climb down. Captain Danse is a large man and one way or another he’s coming back up the cliff with us. We’ll use the walkie once he’s secure.”

 MacCready froze when they reached him.

“Oh… I’m very sorry MacCready… I know you were friends.”

It didn’t seem real.

“I’d understand if you don’t want to help me, but if you wouldn’t mind keeping your flashlight on…”

“He’s not dead.”

“MacCready… he… look at him…”

“He. Is. Alive.”

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Danse’s chest rose and fell as he breathed.

“Well, holy shit!”

  Curie practically flew around Tenpines’ small clinic. Setting up for surgery without the benefit of triage was frustrating her. After sanitizing her hands and the various medical equipment, for perhaps the eleventh time, she felt the tears start.

“Sacrebleu, I had best get this out of my system…”

Wraith had gone outside and was stomping around the settlement in her power armor; her laps an attempt to calm the roaring in her ears.

“Wraith… sure as yer goin’ to wear out yer core…”

“I know, Cait. I know, but the sound is very satisfying… Shaun’s lucky I haven’t been carrying him around with me…”

“Ye knowin’ that’d embarrass the shite out of him?”

“GrrrrraARRRRRAH! How could I be so stupid?!” Deciding that it was too late at night and she was being too loud, she exited the armor and waved to Strong, “This isn’t working! Come on Strong; let’s go punch some trees down.”

“ALPHA HAS THE BEST PLAN!”

  “Stop it! You stupid… How are you even awake?! Quit fighting me, man!”

Danse was partially conscious and was hindering all attempts to secure him to the backboard. As severe as his injuries were, he was still strong enough that MacCready and the medic were worried that strong-arming him might cause further damage.

“Who’s there? Where is Scribe Haylen? I have to return… Cutler… I’ll never forgive you!”

“Danse, it’s MacCready!” Wincing sympathetically, he used a boot to hold down an arm so he could secure a strap, “Snap out of it!”

Varsha frowned at his tactics, “Easy! He’s concussed and delirious…”

“I could see his stupid SKULL; I KNOW HE’S…”

“For fuck’s sake, stop yelling! Though I doubt he can hear you… or see you…”

Hardly daring to believe it, MacCready passed his flashlight back and forth in front of Danse’s eyes. There was no discernable reaction. Staring hard at the blood stain, which grew ever larger, on the bandages wrapped around the large man’s head, his voice was a soft whisper, “Is Curie going to be able to patch a hole that big?”

Varsha took it to be a rhetorical question. Stepping back, she shown her light back up the cliff face, “We are going to need to somehow guide him up… he can’t afford any more bruises.”

“Of course I know about Elder Lyons! Get out of my face… I can’t stand the way they look at me! Why do they make me sad?!” Danse’s eyes filled with tears and he gasped as they spilled down his cheeks, “I had to kill you! Don’t you understand?! You were my brother!”

MacCready didn’t know how Danse was suffering, but he could see that it was more than physically. Shocked to feel tears of his own, he cleared his throat, “We… You should ride up with him and I’ll help pull. Keep the walkie on and you can yell at us if we’re too fast.”

Varsha shook her head, “Now that I’m looking… Grinding over the rocks… I don’t know if the ropes will hold.”

“MacCready, you there?”

“That sounded like Hancock…” Simply hearing the ghoul’s voice, crackling through the walkie-talkie, sent a wave of relief through him, “So the Calvary has arrived, huh?”

“That’s no joke! Look, I should be able to hold the pulley out away from the cliff. I’ll be a crane so we can haul up the Cap’n plus one. Case one of ya wants to guide him over bumps.”

“I’m not sure taking that much Buffout is wise, Mr. Mayor.”

“…I’m in power armor, kids. Let’s hurry it up! Chafes somethin’ terrible…”

When MacCready reached the group he couldn’t help the semi-hysterical laugh that tumbled from him, “What are you wearing?!”

Bright Nuka-Cola red with the words “Justice and Liberty for All” emblazed in gold above the Dragoon’s standard, Hancock’s power armor was a sight to behold.

“What, ya don’t like it?” Sweeping his arms out wide, he somehow managed an elegant turn, “Danse modded it just for me. Though, I don’t use it much ‘cause the… cockpit don’t cut it, ya feel me?”

“Yeah, I feel you.”

   The sun had made its way well into the sky before Curie and her medical team emerged from surgery. Weary and bloodstained, the doctor sank into a chair. With the Tenpines clinic being as small as it was Danse’s worried friends were taking turns waiting in the anteroom. Hancock was on duty and he rose from his own chair to offer her a container of water.

“So, how’s our boy doin’?”

“He is still critical. If I could, I would have him in an ICU. He will need additional blood… I was able to save his leg but mon ours will need knee-replacement surgery, much like madame and her shoulder. He has multiple broken ribs and…” Trailing off, she had brought a hand to her forehead but now held it away from her, staring at the bloodstains in horror, “These conditions are unacceptable! I need the equipment in my own surgery and I needed to have had the modified memory lounger online… The pressures on his optic nerves might abate…” Standing now, she stared at her palms while tears streamed down her face, “I cannot save him here! I cannot move him from here! I must save MON AMOUR!”

Hancock embraced her, “Stop, Baby Bird! He’s strong and so are you!” He held her tightly for a moment before easing her back to her seat. When he spoke his tone had dramatically changed from his normal gruff mean-street slang to something closer to a parent, “You are overdone right now and you need to shut your eyes and rest. Varsha has a chart on him, correct? She and I will monitor him. Wraith and Shaun will hold his hands. There are people here who love you both and will be here the whole time to help you.” He waited until she nodded, “Rest now, fight again later.”

  Despite the risks involved it was clear that Danse would have to be moved to Sanctuary. The settlement brahmin were sweet and docile but neither were trained wear a harness, let alone to pull a cart. And while Wraith was certain she was strong enough to carry him, his bulk would be awkward for her to hold over the distance. While Wraith redressed MacCready’s ear wound, Shaun brainstormed with her on something that the more adaptable mutant hounds could pull.

“Their saddles don’t have the right… parts.” Shaun was hung-up on the idea that it had to be a wheeled vehicle, “He needs to ride as level and steady as possible.”

“OW! Wraith, I’m begging you, please stop!”

“Mac, if you’d stop pulling away from me… What about the power armor? Maybe…”

“STRONG WILL CARRY METAL MAN!”

Surprisingly, they hadn’t noticed the super mutants approach and so there was a collective flinch. Struck dumb, the group stared at him wordlessly.

“HUMANS BROKEN?!”

“Sorry Strong, ol’ buddy, just didn’t expect you to volunteer.”

“Don’t like it here. NO FIGHT! STRONG TAKE METAL MAN, THEN STRONG CAN GO BACK TO ROCKET AND WORK WITH BEAR-GHOUL.” He nodded to himself as if it was a unanimous decision.

“It might be too bumpy a ride, Strong.”

“ALPHA TRUST STRONG.” He drew his hand through the air in a steady line, “Strong smooth.”

“I think I might have lived my whole life just to hear that.”

“Mac…”

  Strong indeed had the capacity for smoothness and the journey back to Sanctuary was nerve-wracking but ultimately uneventful. Wraith had sent a plea for assistance to Dr. Amari over Radio Freedom even before the group had left. And after returning, she arranged for the doctor’s escort, set about establishing contact with all emergency Minutemen patrols and went through a settlement radio check-in.  

Islode was sympathetic, but had no more insight that was particularly helpful, “General, I have told you all that I know. Please allow me to return to my people.”

“I can only assume that she or they are watching the roads.” Wraith was grim, “Watching and waiting. You step one foot outside Sanctuary and you’re toast.”

“I have to believe she wouldn’t kill me. My own daughter…”

“So she has been acting in a manner that is completely normal for her then?” Dropping the diplomatic and formal tone, Wraith was sarcastic, “Totally sane and not fanatical or psychotic at all. Right. She’s predictable based off of past behavior.”

“You have every right to your wrath and your mistrust, but what is the point of keeping me here? If she were to kill me, then what would be the determent to you?”

“What… Islode, I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I am not a conqueror!” Rising from her office chair, she swept an arm through the air, “This is not my throne room. This is my office in my home. The Children are my neighbors. I am trying to cultivate a peaceful relationship with them and you are key to that process.”

“Holding me prisoner isn’t very peaceful.”

Arms falling to her side, she lowered herself slowly back to her seat, her green eyes twin lasers aimed directly at Islode’s, “Nor were the attacks on Kingsport Lighthouse.” Leaning back, she allowed her gaze to soften, “I don’t want you to die Mother Islode. I care about you as a person. You may leave any time that you wish, but you will have an armed escort.”

“I fear then that after you, Infamy will be set upon me and all potential for peace will have been shattered regardless.”

“Then I won’t let them get past me.”

  All of her busy work was meant to take Wraith’s mind off the fact that in addition to the constant threat of attack; Danse had not woken up since Curie had administered the pre-op anesthetic.

“With Sturges’s assistance, I should have the lounger modified and we will get some nice images of Captain Danse’s brain soon.” Amari smiled and patted Curie’s shoulder, “His vitals are remarkably good, considering all he’s been through! He is breathing on his own and appears to have maintained limb sensitivity… You and he have both done very well, Dr. Curie.”

“Merci beaucoup, Dr. Amari. I…” Swallowing back tears, she lifted her chin, “We will not give up. We will fight.”

“If there is anything else you need Baby Bird…”

Sagging into her office chair, Curie placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes, “I feel that I am tied into knots! There are items that I was going to request of you before… They would have been useful now, but I cannot ask you to…”

“Ask! Please! I can’t help Danse directly like you can and I’m going bonkers; I’ve already re-organized my re-organizing and also double-checked my already-organized task lists and check lists!”

Laughing, Curie shook her head, “There is a difference between task lists and check lists?”

“I have to check-off my tasks, don’t I?”

Rising from her chair, she held her arms out for a hug, “Oh Madame, thank you for that.”

Wraith gently patted her back, “I’m glad I could make you laugh. In all seriousness though, what can I get for you?”    

“I need a GC/MS, LC/MS/MS, HPLC a FID or even a GCD.”

“That’s… a lot of letters…”

“I have Institute technologies and a Biometric scanner that aid me in many, many things but data for therapeutic reference ranges… The research I am doing on new medications would be greatly enhanced by these machines.” She held out her hand, asking for Wraith’s Pip-boy, “I can give you a list and mark possible locations on your map.”

“Couldn’t I just, pick them up from your old lab?”

“Most of the remaining data and equipment in Dr. Collins’s lab has been scrapped by Vault Eighty-one’s residents. I had some of my students look into it a little while ago and I had hoped to have assistance from Dr. Cabot and Doctor… Virgil…”

“I should’ve helped you with that…”

“Madame has not spent all her time and efforts training us, either directly or securing teachers for us, to still do everything for us.” Realizing the irony of her words even as she handed Wraith back the Pip-boy, she frowned and sat motionless for a second, “Oh…”

“No take backs, Curie”

  “I’m so sorry I couldn’t beat them, grandma!”

Wraith was having Shaun help her get gear together to give him another opportunity to vent. She felt bad that she was leaving and wanted to give him as much one-on-one time as possible before she did.

“There is nothing to be sorry about! I know that you’re frustrated but please believe me when I say that you did a… awesome job fighting them off.” She grabbed his arms and gave him a gentle shake, “MacCready says that you were incredible!”

“Yeah, well, not incredible and awesome enough to help Captain Danse… or you.” He stuck his lip out, “I want to contribute! I want… to be a valuable team member.”

“Oh, honey.” She wrapped her arms around him, “Of course you helped us! You were able to fight off a assassin which gave Mac time to get free of the ferals. If… WHEN, we save Danse it’ll be because you fought for us.”

Burying his face into her embrace, his sullen reply was muffled, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not. You should be proud at how… multifaceted you are. You are a competent fighter as well as an engineer. You contribute! Just… hold off on being a warrior for a little while yet. At least until you’re taller than me.”

 MacCready elected to stay in Sanctuary, explaining, rather unnecessarily, that he wanted to watch over his son. Although, Wraith had a suspicion that, due to how much time he spent walking past the clinic, he was also harboring feelings of guilt over Danse’s condition.

“Turrets, Minutemen, the Hounds, Dogmeat, Panther and Lloyd are fine and all, but there’s nothin’ quite as good as me.”

“And so modest too…”

“Hey man, I’m just stating the obvious.” A brief flash of doubt crossed his face and he hurried to cover it by turning from Hancock and kissing Wraith goodbye, “Where exactly are you two going anyway?”

The ghoul noticed his consternation, “No worries, MacCready. We are going to pop over to Med-Tek, maybe Medford Memorial and be back before you have to trim yer goatee!”

He favored him with a dramatic eye-roll before giving him a kiss as well, “Who’s worried? It’s not like every time she’s out of my sights, disaster falls.”

“Hey now! I’m not… that’s not… accurate…” Hands on her hips, she stuck her tongue out at him, “I don’t always get hurt!”

“I didn’t say the disasters befall you.”

“’Befall’, huh? Fancy.”

“I thought you’d appreciate.”

She extended her middle finger behind her as she turned away, “Love you.”

   Med-Tek was a surprising bust. Most of the equipment had been smashed either by the ferals or the slowly decomposing building. And although they were able to acquire some hardware components with the idea that Curie may be able to build the devices herself, there were no whole, undamaged machines.

“I really thought that we’d find everything here.” Failing to mask her frustration she kicked at a block of fallen debris, “I was itching to be out doing something, but now I’m anxious being away.”

“I know what you mean… not exactly a fun adventure this time.”

Wraith was elbow deep in the ruins of a machine a few moments later but turned her head to look at Hancock when she heard odd crunching and smacking sounds, “Are you feeding them?!”

“Yeah, they keep looking at me like their beggin’.”

“What are you feeding them?”

“Just some Crisps…”

As they had fought their way through the facility, as would sometimes happen near Wraith, three of the feral ghouls had come to their aid and subsequently followed them through the building to the research lab. Hancock had dubbed the trio Larry, Moe and Curly. Wraith shook her head as he tossed them another handful. He reminded her of an old man, sitting on a park bench feeding pigeons.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” She came to flop into a chair next to him, suddenly sad and tired, “You have to make sure everyone gets fed.”

“I gotta be me… I can’t be right for somebody else, if I’m not right for me, I gotta be free, I’ve gotta be free.”

After turning himself into a ghoul, Hancock’s voice had changed and it troubled him deeply. For a time his singing hobby was shelved and it wasn’t until he began traveling with Wraith that he felt the compulsion again. She admitted that she had no frame of reference but assured him that despite its growling edge, his voice was remarkably compelling. On those rare occasions that he did sing now, his newfound joy was in her enjoyment.

“Heh, look. The Stooges like my howling too.”

All three of the ferals had stopped shoveling Crisps into their faces and were sitting at rapt attention.

“Maybe we’ll start a band…”

Wraith chuckled, kissed his cheek and went back to looking for parts, “Medford has extensive labs that were surprisingly intact the last time I was there but they have something I really don’t want to deal with.”

“Mutants… I thought you cleared ‘em out for Garvey.”

“I have. Twice.” She casually flipped over a filing cabinet, “Last reports have a new batch that have set-up there.” She twirled her wrist, “Just how Mac and I cleared all the ferals here, yet here we are lighter in ammo and heavy in gore.”

“And richer in friends.”

“Oh, noooo. I’m sorry but those three will have to stay here.” She was surprised that Hancock actually looked sad, “It’ll be safer… for them.”

“Have you given any more thought to this Mother’s Favored One bit?”

“Any more thought?” Her tone was harsh, “How about none?”

“None thought, huh?” He gestured to the ferals, “You appear to have more clout with my cousins than most.”

“As you said, I gotta be me. And that ain’t me.”

“How about that… you being… being my wife bit?” His voice was soft and fearful.

Abandoning the rubble, Wraith moved to Hancock and bent at the waist with her hands on her knees so she could look directly into his eyes, “Did you just purpose to me?”

“I… dunno… I’ve… I can’t get free of what mom Atom said.” The normally brash and brazen ghoul was humble, “Would you? I mean, I understand if you don’t wanna put labels on it.” His laugh was forced, “Heh, I know you and MacCready‘ve been married before so…”

“All I know is that I love you both dearly. We should talk to Mac, but I honestly don’t think he’d object. If you want to get married then… let’s do it!”

The joy on Hancock’s face made Wraith’s heart hurt. Both teared up as he stood and swept her into his arms. He twirled her around before the two settled into a deeply passionate kiss. They soon broke it off when they noticed the ghoul trio had shuffled closer. It was almost as if the ferals thought they might have to intervene on Wraith’s behalf.  

“Can we have a big party? Like Nicky?”

“Sure, Hancock. Big party.”

“Invite everybody?”

“Sure; everyone we know.”

“So… the Stooges…”

“No, Hancock.”

   “… send them some aid?”

Deacon wasn’t listening. Recently, a synth had passed through Underworld who looked so much like Wraith that it had twisted his insides and fogged his mind. Even now, during an important meeting, as soon as her name came up, his mind went someplace else. Back to when he first realized he was in trouble. Back when his greatest lie was that he hadn’t fallen in love with her.

They had stopped in an abandoned house between Railroad missions and Wraith was making them dinner. She had her Pip-Boy tuned to Diamond City Radio and was humming along; off-key of course. She had removed her heavy armor pieces and was in long john pants and a t-shirt. He had gently ribbed her on the quality of her performance, but instead of getting mad she had smiled at him and began dancing and singing to the ladle as if it were a microphone.

He was utterly entranced.

I don’t want us to just be… this. I want to dance with her. I want to… I want to make love to her and hold her in my arms after.

“Harley!” Nyx made a grab for his sunglasses, “Are you asleep? Please fucking pay attention!”

“Sorry, Boss.” Evading her swipe, he leaned back in his office chair and brought his arms up behind his head in a big, fake stretch, “I’m really tired. Fawkes and me have been practicing our synchronized swimming routine… huge competition coming up…”

Nyx’s mouth twisted in an attempt to hide a smile triggered by the ridiculous image her brain concocted, “Not funny. What’s the last thing you heard?”

“Uh…”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Oh my fucking… To recap; we have reports that Infamy has been hired to attack Minutemen settlements. So far there has been minimal damage, however…”

“The General can take care of it…”

“However…” Nyx’s voice softened, “We have it on good authority, that Danse has been killed.”

Deacon’s insides went cold.

“With Wraith involved, there is a chance that agent Governor and the Commonwealth branch may come under threat as well. So I’ll ask again; should we send our expert on Infamy? Should we send them aid?”

“We have a Infamy expert?”

  The four super mutants milling around in front of Medford Memorial looked particularly nasty.

“I’m less then excited to engage…”

“Your report say anything that might make this easier? I’m all for runnin’ in with guns ablaze, but we don’t know how many more there are and it’s like you said, we are lower on ammo than when we started this hike.”

“Just that their alpha… Hmm…”

“Whatcha got for me?”

Wraith took Hancock by the arms, kissed him fiercely and stared into his eyes, “Do you trust me?”

“Absolutely.”

To the ghoul’s utter shock Wraith popped up out of their hiding spot and marched confidently toward the enemy.

“I CHALLENGE GOREKNUCKLE FOR ALPHA!”

The reaction was shared by the mutants and they stood with mouths agape. Wraith was less than 20 feet from them when one finally managed to corral enough brain cells for a response.

“STUPID HUMAN! GONNA EAT YOU!”

“HA! WEAK MUTANT WORDS FROM… A WEAK… shit…uhhh… BLEEDER!”

To Hancock’s relief, the mutants seemed just as confused as he was and none were even reaching for their weapons. Jogging out after her, he decided he should play herald. “Not just any human; Wraith, General of the Minutemen, Wraith-the-Undying, Death-in-the-Shadow, The Fog Walker, Grinder of the Bucket Heads, Alpha of Strong, Slayer of Fist, Conqueror of Swan and Deathclaw’s Bane!”

Standing as tall as possible she set her hands on her hips and laughed maniacally, “BWAAAHAHAHAHAHA! Bring me to your alpha; if he isn’t too scared…”

Setting their brutish heads together, the group discussed whether or not it might be worth having an ear literally chewed off for granting the crazy human’s request. In the end, the general consensus was that they were bored, and this was… something. Even if they didn’t fully grasp what it was.

“STUPID HUMAN FOLLOW GUT BAG!”

 At first glance, outside of a slight yellow cast to his skin, Goreknuckle seemed much like any other super mutant. But his eyes held intelligence and his voice was relatively soft, “THIS IS STRANGE, HUMAN. IT’S NOT SMART TO COME HERE. BROTHERS SAY YOU CHALLENGE ME FOR ALPHA. THAT’S STUPID.”

“So, you don’t accept? Afraid I’d win?” Wraith folded her arms to hide her shaking hands, “I don’t blame you; I’m really scary.”

The alpha’s sudden, bombastic laughed surprised them all, “HA! YOU’RE FUNNY. OKAY, STUPID HUMAN. I WILL LET YOU CHALLENGE ME.” He gave her a sly smile, “WE ARM WRESTLE!”

“Perfect… except my forearm isn’t long enough. How about a thumb war instead?”

“Uhhh, Alpha Wraith? Quick word?”

Wraith let the ghoul lead her away from the group, “Problem?”

His eyes briefly narrowed as his head twitched sideways, “You seriously gonna wrestle a green skin?”

“Strong has never beaten me.”

Hancock’s dark eyes widened and then he flashed her a sultry smile, “I want you so bad right now.”

“Not in front of the mutants, dear.”

 The battle was to take place in the operating theater so that the entire pack could watch as their mighty alpha crushed a puny, stupid human in an epic… children’s game. Wraith suggested the venue to count the packs numbers. She was happy to see they only had 7 mutants counting Goreknuckle.

She could work with that.

The dramatic contrast of size as the combatants squared up was as comical as the contest itself. Sitting cross-legged on the surgical table, Wraith appeared calm and unconcerned as a seated Goreknuckle loomed over her.

Hancock and Gut Bag stood behind their respective alphas and made threating gestures at each other.

“Do you know the rules?”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS.”

“Winner is alpha.”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS!”

“Say it. Unless you’re too… yellow.”

“GRRRAHHHHHHAAAA! WINNER IS ALPHA OF GOREKNUCKLE PACK!”

“Oh! Hey, can you count? Cause we’re supposed to chant…”

“GOREKNUCKLE KNOWS!”

Wraith pinned him in a half second.

It was so shockingly anticlimactic that the entire room went completely silent.

As intelligent as he was, the alpha quickly degenerated into a wild beast and “broke the rules” by roaring in Wraith’s face and attempting to shake himself free. When he found he couldn’t move his arm he brought his other to bear, swinging it about in a ferocious punch. Jumping slightly, Wraith caught his forearm between her legs and rolled, twisting his limbs together painfully and locking them with her knees. Remembering that he could stand up, the alpha brought his arms and Wraith high into the air before smashing them onto the steel table.

Hancock flinched, “You okay?! That one looked like it stung…”

Wraith snarled in response before twisting herself free, ripping the alpha’s arms clean off as she did.

Goreknuckle was not unlike a lawn sprinkler as he spun away; a great spray of blood coating his fellow pack-mates who had the unfortunate luck of sitting in the splash zone.

Wraith roared at the mutants triumphantly, bringing the disembodied arms above her head and waving them around like pennants at a ball game, “GRRRAAHAAAAA! I am your ALPHA! You are the Pack of the Wraith now!”

It only took a second for the mutants’ eyes to shift from disbelief to murder.

An expert at reading an audience, Hancock tossed a grenade into the seats. After a couple of clean-up shots with his shotgun the room was secure. Wraith was still on the table when he circled back around; staring at Goreknuckle who remained standing even after death.

“He’s like a Venus de Milo…”  

Hancock laughed, “You okay?”

“I hurt my butt.”

“HA! It’s just like MacCready said; disaster! You want some Med-X?”

“Yes please.”

Hancock helped her down and passed her the chem, “What would you have done if they’d gone for it?”

“I’m sure I would have thought of something… they could have helped us today; Curie also needs nitrogen and helium tanks to run her alphabet machines.”

“Oh, I see how it is! It’s perfectly fine for you to bring six super mutants home, but I’m not even allowed three small feral ghouls!”

Wraith giggled, “Can you imagine… us coming back with… No, I knew it wasn’t going to work. I took me a long while to earn Strong’s respect. And he’s more receptive to new ideas than most mutants I’ve met.”

“So you saw seven super mutants and thought ‘I can take ‘em’?” Hancock wrapped his arms around her, gore and all, “And people call me a monster.”

“I gotta be me.”

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins tag for the story link-tree. If you have any questions/comments/concerns please feel free to send me an ask. Anon too. More to come =^..^=

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Life On The Road: Part 2

Pairings: Chibs x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, fluff

Word Count: 5,239

Aesthetic by @sorenmarie87​

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey y’all! It’s (Y/N), baby girl and Tinkerbell, the killer pitbull.” You smiled as you showed your growing baby bump and your sleeping pup laying beside you in your bed. “Coming to you live from the damn rain apocalypse of the century in Colorado ‘fore I call it a night. You know, I love the rain, though. So dang peaceful. It’s like Mother Nature’s way of wiping the nature slate clean. Helpin’ the circle of life thrive.” You smirked and rolled over onto your side, propping your stomach up on a pillow and causing your unnamed daughter to roll over in your stomach. “Kinda makes ya wonder when Simba’s… ahhh!!!” You sat up quickly as someone pounded on your RV door. Tink went crazy on your bed and you grabbed the shotgun you kept at the foot of your bed.

“Open the damn door!” Chibs shouted, causing you to lurch up to sit on the bed. You didn’t even bother saying good bye to any followers watching as you ended the live video.

“Pas touche, Tink. ’s’alright.” You snapped as you scooted as fast as you could off the bed. “Stupid dang map. Just open the damn thang!” You shouted over the pounding. Chibs yanked the door open and jumped in out of the rain, dripping water onto your faux wood floor. He looked up at you and your shot gun as he slammed the door closed behind him and turned the lock.

“Lock the damn door, woman! Yer pregnant!” Your eyebrows flew to your hair line and your jaw dropped to the floor.

“Are you outta your cotton-pickin mind?! Who do you think you…”

“The fath’a a yer child, tha’s who.” He pulled off his drenched jacket. You finally set your gun down and got off your bed to get him a towel with a scowl.

“And? I don’t know you! Nor do you know me so you best watch your mouth for I knock you so hard you see tomorrow, today.” He snatched the towel from your hands to wipe his confused face.

“Wha’?” He asked as he held the towel in front of him. “The ‘ell does tha’ even mean?” You turned around to yell at him again but softened as you looked at his shivering body.

“Goddamn it. Take that shit off ‘fore you catch pneumonia.” You turned and stepped past him to your closet. You yanked it open, grabbed a old t-shirt and handed it back to him before searching for a pair of shorts or pants that would be big enough and long enough for him as his wet cloths started to plop onto the ground. “What do you want, Chibs?” You snapped as you handed him a pair of pink, flannel sleep pants.

“Yer pregnant.” He said matter of factly as he stepped away from the puddle of water on the floor. You huffed a laugh and nodded as you closed your closet and opened your small bathroom to get to your laundry line.

“Yea, I am. And?” He looked at your back as if you were crazy as he pulled on your shirt.

“An’? An’ I’ve the right ta know ‘bout it, don’ ye think?” You shrugged as you moved your cleaning supplies to the kitchen counter so they wouldn’t get dripped on.

“Figured a big, bad biker would be happier not knowin’ he knocked up some stranger.” You admitted as you strung the line through the small space and locked it into place. “Didn’t take y’all as ‘daddy material’.”

“Yea, well ye don’ know me. Look out, luv. I can ‘ang m’own clothes.” You glanced back at him and stepped around him to clean up the water on the floor.

“OK. So you made your point. I know you know your gunna be a daddy. So what now? You think you can storm in here…” You stepped on the towel he abandoned and scooted it over toward the door but Chibs put his foot on it in front of yours.

“I don’ wan’ ta change yer life, luv. I know just from the very little I’ve spoken ta ye, tha’ tha’s not ‘appenin’. But I’ve the right ta know m’child even if that means goin’ nomad in m’own chart’a and followin’ the two’a ye’s ‘round the country side.” You cocked your eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t speak biker. I speak Southern.” He rolled his eyes as he took the towel and wiped up the floor.

“t’is a branch of the Sons that doesn’t have a ‘ome base.” You nodded as you stepped back toward your chair where you had your dirty clothes hamper. You sighed and leaned your hip against the counter. You rubbed your hand over your baby bump as your daughter shifted around to get comfortable and sighed. “Do ye know wha’ ’t’is?”

“Girl. Haven’t settled on a name yet.” You said softly as you looked up at him. You pulled up the bottom of your tank-top and reached for his hand. “She’s always active at night. It’s like she knows I’m fixin’ ta sleep. Don't kick much. Just squirms ‘round like a turtle on its back and keeps me up half the night.” His face lit up as his daughter ran her foot across his palm.

“Aye. Bairns always take yer sleep away first.”

“You have any?” He sighed and looked up at you.

“Had. I’ven't seen ‘er in ova ten years.” Your smile dropped as he gently but firmly pressed his fingertips against his daughter’s feet, the way only a father could.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’.” You said softly as you realized that you were doing the same thing to him that his ex did. He shook his head and looked up at you.

“’s’not yer fault, lass. But ye see why I can’t jus’ pretend this isn’t ‘appenin’?” You nodded as you put your hand on top of his.

“I only have one bed. You can stay but I ain’t gunna promise ya it ain’t gunna be awkward.” He nodded as he pulled his hand out from under yours.

“We’ll figure it out, luv. I’d do anythin’ jus’ ta ‘ave the chance ta be a fath’a again.” You gave him a weak smile and nodded before stepping around him to your bed.

“Back up, Tink.” You said as you waved your hand at her on your way up the two steps. She growled at Chibs as he stepped on the stairs behind you, protectively. “No, you know bett’a.” She let you climb on to the bed and laid down directly in front of your stomach. Her eyes didn’t leave Chibs as he slowly laid down on the other side of the bed.

“She won’ bite, right?” He asked as you pulled back the blankets and hit the main light switch with your toe.

“She’ll move in a few minutes. She’s just bein’ a pain in the ass.” He nodded as he laid down under the blankets and folded the pillow that probably smelled like dog under his head.

“Nigh’ luv.” He said softly. You looked across the little loft bedroom at him and nodded.

“Night.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to a tame, huffed, ‘woof’ from Tink, followed by one of your cabinets being closed as softly as it could. Your brow furrowed as you propped yourself up on your elbow for a moment, trying to figure out what in the world was going on when a muttered, Scottish voice muttered ‘fuck’.

“Watcha lookin’ for?” You called out, slightly horsely. You sat all the way up and started to scoot down the bed as another cabinet closed.

“Coffee.” He looked back at you as you appeared in the opening of the loft bed with a shake of your head.

“Can’t drink it much right now so I ain’t been buyin’ it. But I planned on hittin’ the store t’day when we get to the next campground so we’ll get some. I had ta stop early ‘cause of the rain last night.” He nodded as you grabbed your bathroom caddy off the counter and grabbed some clothes from your closet. “You got another clothes?”

“Probably all soaked by now.” He said as he scrubbed his hand down his tired face. You could already tell he was as much of a morning person as you were. You grabbed a pair of basketball shorts that were probably gunna be a little small on him and a clean shirt.

“Next place we stop has a laundry mat. Come on, I’ll show you were you can get fixed up so we can ride out.” You went over to help Tink off the bed and felt Chibs tap you on the shoulder. Wordlessly, he gestured for you to back up so he could lift your pup off the bed and too the ground. She never had an issue getting up, but the step down to the stairs was just a little too far for her. She grumbled at him as you pulled on your bathroom Crocs and followed you outside into the muddy campsite.

“Sleep well?” Chibs asked as he fell into step beside you with your clothes and a small bathroom bag in his hand.

“Peachy. I have a child using my uterus as a jungle gym.” You glanced over at him and shook your head. “Ya ain’t gotta go the small talk shit in the mornin’, darlin’. Like one of the characters from one of my shows says, ‘mornings are for coffee and contemplation’.”

“Thank Christ.” You pointed him in the direction of the men’s restroom and held the women’s door open for Tink, even though you knew she wasn’t allowed in. But you weren’t about to leave her outside while you got ready though. After twenty minutes, a few slashes of ice cold water on your face, and the tiniest bit of makeup, you headed outside to see Chibs, smoking a cigarette and waiting for you with a styrofoam cup of coffee in his hand.

“Who’d ya have ta bribe for that?” You teased, a little more awake now. He glanced back over his shoulder and pointed toward the campsite one over from yours.

“Paid five bucks for two cups of instant coffee.” He said with a laugh as he swirled the contents in the bottom of his cup. “Shite coffee but ’t’is coffee all the same.” You nodded and laughed as you paused by the door of your RV.

“Alright, so you wanna just follow me the two hours ta Canon City, where we’ll be for the next week or two.” He nodded as he glanced over at your pick-up and his Harley.

“Sure but wet or not, I’m puttin’ m’jeans on for that.”

——

Two hours later, you were finally pulling into the KOA the camp sight in Canon City, Colorado. Tinkerbell was going crazy beside you, excited to see her best friends in the whole, wide, world; Todd and Stacy. The older couple were as close to parents as you had ever gotten.

“Where’s pop?” You asked as you meandered around the bend toward H3 & H4. You smiled and waved at Todd, who was making lunch on the fire and drove just past him to the site that you would call home for a bit. “Alright, alright, go on!” You said with a laugh as you unclipped Tink’s seatbelt. You glanced back to make sure Chibs had stopped moving before opening your passenger door. Tinkerbell shot out like a cannon ball and ran toward the RV beside you just as Stacy was walking around the corner.

“Hey vicious!” She laughed as she was almost barreled over by your rambunctious fur child. You shook your head as you got out of your truck and walked around the front toward her.

“You’d think we hadn’t seen ya in years.” You giggled.

“Well it has been a few weeks. Look how big you’ve gotten!” You smiled proudly as she put her hands on your bump and bent down to give it a gently kiss. “Todd, come look at our future grand baby.” She looked up as CHibs got off his bike and lit a cigarette. Her eyebrow flew to her hairline as she looked back at you, questioningly.

“Baby daddy. Scared the shit outta me last night.”

“You there, boy.” Stacy called out as she snapped at him. You grumbled her name as she called him over with a wag of her finger. “You’re responsible for this?” She asked. He looked a little startled and looked at you, but Stacy was having none of it. “No, don’t look at her. I’m her mama. You look at me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You looked over at her as she fought the smile that tried to make it’s way onto her face. This was simply a scare tactic.

“You listen here and you listen good. You take care of my grand baby, you hear. You wanna stay and be a father, you stay no matter how hard it gets. You wanna go home and send a check, you make that choice soon. You aren’t gunna go in and out of my girls lives, you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Ye done tryin’ ta scare him off, Stace?” She glanced over at you and scowled until you stuck your tongue out at her. With a laugh, she nodded and stuck out her hand.

“Stacy Bishop. I’m (Y/N)’s unofficial road mother. My husband, Todd’s back there.”

“They basically adopted me when I first started out. I couldn’t figure out my old generator and Todd came over and helped. They’ve been keepin’ an eye out for me ever since.” You stepped closer to him and put up your hand as if you were telling a secret. “Don’t let the act fool ya. She’s as mild as a house cat on catnip.” He chuckled and nodded as Stacy glared at you, playfully.

“I’m a vicious mama bear. Come on, my child. Todd’s got hotdogs and hamburgs on the fire.” You nodded and headed around the front end of her RV. Tink had sprawled herself out like a frog on the green, fake grass carpet Stacey kept in front of her rig with a giant bone in-between her front paws.

“Ain’t even been here five minutes and you’re already spoilin’ her.” You said with a laugh as Todd pulled a hamburger patty from the grill over the fire pit. He stood up and gave you a one armed hug before going back to lunch.

“And we’re spoiling you today, too. Hit up the post office last night and the main store here and picked up the boxes you had there. The whole back end of my house if full of boxes for you.” You smiled over at him as you moved over to take ‘your seat’.

“Well thank ya, kindly. So introductions, this is Chibs; baby daddy who hunted me down in the middle of a rain storm from California. Says he’s sticking around to be a daddy so y’all be nice.” Todd looked up at him over his glasses and narrowed his eyes.

“You got good intentions, boy?” He snapped. You groaned and rolled your eyes.

“See, this is why I’ve stayed single. Y’all are horrible.” Chibs nodded as he took a seat next to you by the fire.

“M’ ex took m’ first daugh’a away from me when she was just a wee bairn. I’ven’t seen her since. I won’ walk away from m’child ‘gain.” Todd and Stacy exchanged a side eyed glance before nodding subtly and changing the subject.

“So you still thinking about going up in size with your RV?” Todd asked as Stacy handed you a full plate of food. You shrugged, noncommittally.

“Been thinking about it for six months. If I find someone to buy the Lagoon, yea probably.”

“Well, you remember that guy David, right? He was filming that documentary about living on the road for a year for the RV company? He had that 5th wheel with the garage door in the back. Well, he’s done filming and the people that gave him the RV don’t really want it back. So he asked us if we wanted to keep it at our daughters as a back-up but we just bought this one…”

“He’s giving it away?” You asked incredulously. Todd and Stacy exchanged a half second, barely noticeable glance and nodded.

“Yep, just giving it away. He’s driving home tomorrow. We were just waiting for you to get here so we could borrow your truck…” You nodded slowly as you chewed the bite of burger you had in your mouth. You casually crossed your legs and leaned your arms forward on them as far as your baby bump would allow and arched your eyebrow.

“So, what y’all are tellin’ me is that David… the most money hungry man I’ve ever met, is just… givin’ away the forty-five thousand dollar Venom toy hauler that KZ has had on the RV app for the past four months? They just up an’ decided ta give it away.”

“I told you she would see it there!” Stacy said as she whacked her husband’s arm.

“Stacy Ann.” Todd said as he looked at his wife with an annoyed face. He sighed and looked back up at you. “Look. You’re taking the damn RV. We bought it for you, we kept the four wheeler as part of the money and we’ll take the Lagoon and see it for you to make up for the rest.” Your face contorted into a look of anger and confusion as you shook your head.

“In what world do you think that them damn things are even keel?” You snapped. “There’s at least a fifteen thousand…”

“And we used what we had left over from out old rig.” Stacy said.

“Look, I’m an old man so I’m not playing this back and forth ‘it’s too much’, ‘take the present’, ‘no’ ‘yes’ bullshit.” Todd said as he pulled the hotdogs off the grill and put them on a plate, mocking your accent and Stacy’s voice as he spoke. He sat back in his chair, set down the plate on his table and grabbed the bag of marshmallows and pointed to you with them. “Take the damn RV. I will not let you raise that baby in the Lagoon and that’s final, we clear?” You nodded and pinched your lips together to try to hide your smile.

“Yes, sir.” He nodded and gestured in the direction of your RV.

“Dip shit left last week. Company’s been paid, it has all new locks and the keys are on the counter in my kitchen. We scrubbed it from top to bottom twice for ya, too. We’ll help you move all your stuff after lunch because I’m not paying a whole other day for a spot we don’t need. We’ll tow the Lagoon to Carol’s before dark.” Tears welled in your eyes as you handed Chibs your plate and stood up. Todd stood up and pulled you into a hug.

“Thank you.” He nodded against the side of your head and rubbed your back.

“Anything for you, kiddo.” He moved his hands to your shoulders and pulled you back a bit. “Carol and Mike chipped in, too. It’s from all of us. And… KZ dropped five grand off the price because I promised them you would promote them and the damned documentary when it comes out. I have the guy’s card because he’d like to talk to you as well.” You huffed a laugh and nodded as you wiped away the tears that escaped.

“Y’all are too good too me.” You stepped over to Stacy. She shook her head and she hugged you tight.

“No, baby. That’s what families do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So the fans want a ‘Chibs’ video.” You said as you read over comments on your last video as he drove you and ‘the Palace’, which felt like unnecessary the Taj Mahal of RV’s (with a much better bed, so you weren’t complaining) to your next campground. “But then you’d have ta have a ‘bloody camera in your face'.” He glanced over at your mocking and pointed at the GoPro that was attached to the handle in front of him with the straightest face he could muster.

“When’s it not, luv?” You giggled and shrugged your shoulder.

“You know’s well as I do that I don’t put you in my videos unless I tell you.” You leaned to your side and grabbed one of your many GoPro cameras from the middle console. You held it out to show him you were planning on recording before flipping it on. “So, what will you tell the masses, Chibby?” He glanced over at you and sighed.

“Yer lucky I cain’t run ‘way, right now, luv.” You reached over and gently pushed his shoulder with your fingertips.

“Hun…” He groaned heavily and glanced at the GPS. He had an hour and twenty five minutes until the next camp ground in Oklahoma and even though he had been with you for only a month, he knew you wouldn’t let up until he gave in.

“Fine.” He glanced over at your award winning smile; a smile he was coming to look forward to seeing every day, and nodded. “Wha’ do ye wan’ ta know?”

“Well… how are ya likin’ the RV life so far? How does it compare ta the MC life?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“Much more relaxed.” He glanced over at you and you nodded, reassuringly for him to go on. “’s’weird. Still not sure it feels real yet.” He sighed and glanced over at you. “Can I be ‘onest wit’ ye?” You nodded and rested the camera on your bump. He licked his lips and focused intently on the road ahead.

“I nev’a thought I’d do this ‘gain… the fath’a thing. Afta Kerrianne, the idea just never seemed possible. But then ye ‘appened… and our lit’l Avery ‘appened… it just… felt right. There was so much shite goin’ on with the club an’ I felt like I was drownin’ wit’ no end in sight… escapin’ ta this life seemed like the only way ta keep m’head in more way than one. But yer not just an escape, not like I thought. I jus’ thought I’d… shit, I don’ really know what I thought comin’ out ‘ere. But it’s betta. So much betta than I thought it would be.” He glanced over at you from the corner of his eye with a small smile and bobbed his head. “Yer a sweet girl, luv. An’ I don’ think I could ask for a betta part’na in this.” He looked over at you and his face contorted into concern. “Luv, why are ye cryin’?”

“’s’so beautiful!” You choked as you wiped the tears off your cheeks. He started to chuckle and you forced a scowl. “Shut up! I’m pregnant!” He reached across the console, took your hand and squeezed it gently.

“Sorry, luv.” He squeezed your hand but didn’t let it go. You smiled and moved your fingers to lace with his.

“Guess we’re gunna have ta come up with something else for a Chibs video.” He chuckled and nodded.

“Aye, guess yer right.”

——

“Wha’ do ye wan’ for dinn’a, luv?” Chibs asked as he put two large logs on the fire. You shrugged as you checked to make sure your RV was level on the fancy app on your iPad.

“Pickles.” He laughed and shook his head.

“Ye eat anymore damn pickles, yer gun’ turn in ta one. ’s’all ye’ve eaten this week.” You scowled and pointed at your baby bump.

“Blame her. Actually, blame you! You’re the one who bought the damn thing ta try at that thingy-ma-jig up yonder in the first place.” He laughed and looked over at you with a shake of his head.

“I feel like yer Southern is getting more an’ more Southern the more pregnant ye get. It’s like…”

“You finish that sentence an’ I’ll cancel your birth certificate, Filip.” He laughed and held up his hands.

“How ‘bout I make m’ favorite, then, aye?” You nodded at him as he stood up beside the fire and brushed his hands off on his jeans. He glanced over at Tinkerbell, who was waiting patiently at the RV door to be let out. “She OK ta come out, luv?” You glanced away from your iPad, where you were checking your RV’s water levels, and nodded.

“Put her sweater on. Suppost’a get cold t’night.” He stopped part way to the door to look at you and shook his head.

“She’s a dog…”

“She’s my fur child and you will put the damn coat on her because she’s a big baby in the cold.”

“She’s a spoilt brat’s what she is.” You rolled your eyes and headed over to your seat by the fire with a smile on your face. “Come ‘ere, Tink’a’bell. Yer moth’a wants ye in yer coat, yer gettin’ yer coat.” You turned on the outside lights and the music and finally settled back into your chair as Tink came flying out of the RV only to come to a dead stop on the too cold for her feet ground. It was only in the sixties but you would think Tinkerbell thought it was sixty below. She started to whine and ran back into the RV. You looked up at Chibs smugly and crossed your ankles by the fire.

“Told ya, she’s a baby.”

“Ye’re not ta spoil our daught’a like tha’.” He said as he headed inside to make dinner.

“You think so. Ain’t you looked in the garage past few days? Ain’t nothin’ but baby stuff an’ a motorcycle.” He poked his head out the door and cocked his eyebrow at you.

“‘ow are ye wit’ spicy t’day, lass?” You shrugged as you rubbed your hand over your baby bump.

“Alright. Not too much though. Oh! Could you maybe bring me a blanket please when ya got a sec?” He nodded and stepped back into the RV, returning with a blanket and a glass of sweet tea a few moments later.

“Now, ye stay out ‘ere unless absolutely necessary. No peakin’.” You giggled and nodded at him as he arranged the blanket on your lap.

“No peakin’. Swear.”

——

“‘ey sleepy ‘ead.” You woke with a start and nearly threw your now tea soaked blanket into the fire. A startled yelp escaped your lips, causing Tink to lurch to her feet in the RV and bark twice in confused protection. “‘ey, jus’ me. Ye’re a’right, m’luv.” When you realized you were OK, you scowled and punched Chibs in the arm.

“I have mind ta tan your ass! Scarin’ a sleepin’, pregnant woman awake. Hell is wrong with you?” He bit his lip painfully hard to keep from laughing.

“‘m’sorry, sweetheart. I really didn’t mean ta scare ye. I called out ta ya. Dinn’a’s ready.” He offered you his hand and you took a moment to slow your heart rate and sooth your kicking daughter.

“Scared us half ta death.” You took his hand and let him pull you up out of the chair. His arm slid around your shoulder as you shivered in your wet outfit.

“Let’s get ye in ta somethin’ dry, then we’ll ‘ave dinn’a. Maybe s’mores ova the fire afta will get Tink outta the ‘ouse, too.” You nodded as you headed up the metal steps but paused in the doorway. You inhaled deeply and were assaulted with a tantalizing mix of onions, peppers, meat, spices and tomatoes. A smile spread across your face and your stomach growled loudly.

“Chili?” You asked as you glanced from the large pot on the stove back to him. He smiled and nodded his head.

“One a m’ favorites.” You nodded and tried to fight back tears.

“Mine too.” You squeaked. He chuckled and gently moved you toward the bedroom as he stepped into the RV.

“‘ope I did it justice. Now, no cryin’, luv. Go change outta those wet clothes so we can eat.”

“OK.” You squeaked as you let him turn you toward the room. You barely heard his chuckle over your sniffle as he went to serve two bowl before starting up the fireplace.

——

You had been awake for nearly an hour as Avery kicked her little heart out, practicing her current life goal of becoming a professional drummer. She had only started really kicking on a steady basis two weeks before at the beginning of your seventh month so you couldn’t be that mad at her. You were, however, beginning to approach the point of exhaustion. Out of no where, Chibs, who you hadn’t consciously, realized had his hand on your hip and his arm across your stomach, gently slid his hand down to your stomach.

“‘ey in there.” He whispered quietly as he scooted a little ways down the bed as carefully as possible. “Wha’s going on with m’ lit’l girl, hmm?” He found where his daughter was kicking and slid his calloused hand across the spot. Avery’s kicking stopped and she shifted toward her father’s hand. You could hear the smile in his voice as he continued talking to her.

“Tha’s m’girl. Keep kickin’ like tha’ ye’ll wake yer mum. An’ we don’ wan’ ta do tha’, now, do we? Between ye an’ me, she tends ta get a lit’l feisty when she first wakes up. Still cute as a button, though.” You smiled in the dark room as Chibs shifted on the bed to get a bit more comfortable. “I ‘ope ye look like ‘er, m’ li’l Avery Lynn. You’d be the mos’ beautiful lit’l girl in the world jus’ like yer mum.” He leaned forward on the bed and gently kissed your stomach. “Sleep now, mo ghaol. Sleep now.”

“What did you call her?” You said softly as he kissed your stomach once more. He looked up at you with a smile and scooted back up the bed.

“Mo ghaol. It’s ‘my love’ in Gaelic.” You nodded at him as he slid his hand back up to your hip. “Did I wake ye, luv?” You shook your head against the pillow and shifted a bit on the bed.

“No. I’ve been up. Kinda hard ta sleep when you got Ringo Starr’s prodigy practicin’ her moves on your belly button.” He huffed a laugh and nodded as he reached up and brushed your hair off your face.

“Can I kiss ye, luv?” You nodded against his fingertips and leaned toward him with a smile. His lips were softer than you remembered but the gentleness was still there. He shifted forward and pressed his body as close to yours as physically possible. There was no urgency, no desperation behind it as you gave his tongue access to your mouth. You slid your arm around his waist and put your leg over his hip. Both his hands slid around to your back and a small, content moan vibrated against your lips. When the need for air became necessary, he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours.

“Betta than I rememb’a.” He said softly. You nodded in agreement as he gave you one more chaste kiss.

“Night, baby.” He smiled and pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“Good nigh’, luv.”

Part 3

[tonyspep]

Owen Grady, Coffee, Submission, Imagination.

“Owen,”his name a soft keen, not as forceful as she wants as she tries topush past him. He’s not supposed to be behind the counter, and shereally doesn’t need her boss getting in her face about it again.

Thepark is going to be open in twenty minutes and that means the morningrush and she needs to finish getting everything set up, which meanshe needs to move. Aheavy sigh as she pushes at him again, the words come out in an angryrush, her patience wearing thin, “mueve maldita sea.”

He,of course, doesn’t move but bends his head, his lips brushing againstthe curve of her neck and murmurs, “I love it when you talk dirty.”

Sherolls her eyes while side-stepping him (finally) and as she bends toreach for her apron, there’s his palm on her right cheek, taking ahefty squeeze. The scruff of his face slides along her cheek and hisvoice is a low, deep rumble in her ear, “Live a little, amante.Jugar alucinada conmigo.”

Thelast part of the request is mangled and slow, not nearly as seductiveas he was going for, she’s sure and she can’t help but laugh. It’scute, though, him trying to learn Spanish for her. It’s hard –having grown up here in Costa Rica – for her not to slip back andforth, especially when… She shakes her head, not wanting to gothere. But afterrighting herself, she’s pressed against every hard plane of hismuscled body and her imaginationcan’t help but run awayfrom her. It’s so easy to see; that head of tousled dark blonde hairbetween her thighs, the sound of his fingers snapping harshly as hecommands – voice rough and dark - “eyes on me” and that damnsmirk before he trails his lips over every inch of her skin until hetakes hers in a demanding kiss, letting her taste her slick.

“Youwant to play hooky?” Her voice flat and dark eyes skeptical. “90%of the time you barely leave the paddock. What’s your deal, Grady?”

“Mydeal? Can’t a guy just want to spend a day with his girl? Theresomethin’ wrong with that?”

“Isthat Hoskins guy you’re always complaining about prowling aroundagain?”

Hisjaw clenches tight and his right eye twitches slightly, telling heryes, that Hoskins guy is prowlingaround. She doesn’t know much about how the rest of the park works –she’s just a barista at the coffeeshop – but she talks tothe other workers, trainers and the like when they come in, beingfriendly is part of her job description, after all. That’s how shemet Owen, Barry the other trainer at the paddock, brought him in onemorning and soon he was in every other day, flirty remark afterflirty remark tumbling off his lips.

Shesighs heavily, untangling her hair from its ponytail and then sheslips her apron from around her neck. She can’t believe she’sactually going to indulge him. He’s beyond above her pay grade andcan afford skipping out, but his green eyes are boring into her darkwith promise and herstomach tumbles pleasantly while heat simmers in her veins and thenhe’s got her pinned against the back counter, arms on either side ofher. “Gonna make this,” A heady whisper, lips hovering over hers,the cinnamon  of his breath a warm burst across her face. “Worthyour while, pretty girl.”

Atleast Maria had been on the morning shift with her, so she wouldn’thave to come up with some excuse for playing hooky. They’re not farfrom his bungalo, sinking into the warm sand of the part of the beachthat belongs to the employees. She stretches languidly, her feetending up in his lap and she wiggles her right foot in front of hisface, a silent request and he laughs. Her heart skips a beat, shelikes the sound but likes the way his eyes crinkle at the edges more.

“Ain’tthe Prince supposed to put the shoe on the Princess?” He questions,easily undoing the laces of her sneaker. “That’s how my sister saidit goes.”

“Prince?”Soft giggles falling off her lips as she shakes her head, dark wavesspilling over her shoulders. “I know,” Cheeky as ever as shepokes him in the shoulder. “You’re not talking about yourself,Grady.”

“Icould be one,” Her other shoe hits the sand with a hollow thud ashe lays her down further while coming to hover over her. “Couldbe,” Lips teasing the shell of her ear. “Yours.”

“Neverreally been a big fan of those,” She murmurs, arching against him.“Bad boys with motorcycles have always been more my speed,”Carding her fingers through his hair. “Know where I can get one ofthose?”

“Dunnowhere you can find a boy,” A snort along with an eye roll. “But Iknow where you can find a man with a motorcycle.”

Asharp retort is on the tip of her tongue, but he silences her with arough and heady kiss, taking the breath from her lungs as well. It’sso easy, too easy to let him do whatever he wants with her. Usuallyshe puts up more of a fight, taking pleasure in teasing and taunting,making him work for it, but she needshim, so bad. Needs him in a way she’s never needed anyone before.Vaguely, she wonders, as his lips go everywhere but where she needsthem most, if this is some kind of payback from the bonfire a fewweeks ago. She splurged on a dress from a shop inside one of thehotels on the island, and it was so worthit. His eyes stayed on her the entire night, his hand at the small ofher back from where the dress dipped low, revealing all of her softbrown skin. He promised, low in his throat, as he slipped the strapsfrom her shoulders in his bungalo, she’d pay for it.

And,fuck, was she ever.

Sumbmission hasnever been her style. She’s always wanted it as rough as someone cangive it, but with Owen it’s so natural to let him take control, tobend to his every whim and desire. She thought she would hate it, butshe craves it. It’s always there – this dull ache and need – forhim to tie her up, blindfold her, whatever he wants to do.

“Thiswet for me already?” Smug as ever, lips curled into an all-tooproud smirk. He rubs the damp fabric that clings to her folds and adesperate whimper escapes her throat. “You should’ve saidsomethin’, told me just how bad you need me, want me. I would’vedragged you into the shop’s bathroom and fucked you right there. Iknow how much you like it; bein’ pressed aganist the glass of themirror above the sink, watchin’ yourself come undone. The risk thatwe could get caught gets you even more turned on, knowin’ someonecould see us, could hear you say it.”

Sheknows – even through the deep haze of lust coloring her senses –what he means by ‘it,’ just like she knows what he wants. He’s goingto keep teasing her, taunting her, not giving her what she wants andneeds until she says it. Her eyes close, it’s too much, his lipstouching her through the fabric of her underwear and there it is; theharsh snap of his fingers and the rough, dark command, “Hey! Eyeson me!”

“Alpha,”Breathless as her eyes snap open and there she is, on the beach,falling apart under his mouth.

note: i imagined floriana lima who plays maggie sawyer on supergirl as the unnamed woman in this drabble. also the translations were done through google translate. which are: move damn it, anamante is lover and play hooky with me please.

[rasenkaikyo]

Pieces (pt. final)

previously

Kaya treaded with caution as she approached the great gate. She could not help but feel wary passing the masked guards, hidden eyes cast intently on her as she walked by.

She set aside her trepidation. She knew that it would do her little good to double back now.

Ul’dah, the Steps of Nald

No doubt, the city was impressive from within. Towering walls and arched iron gates and no shortage of sandstone: drab yet accentuated by immaculate carvings and bold banners. CItizens and merchants alike of all sizes walked to and fro’. A cluster of armed figures clad in armor and leather openly boasted by an archway.

The young foreigner sauntered slowly along. She was no stranger to the ways of a city, and she would have to learn again. Here, on a wide cobblestone street, she only had one of two options.

Before, she could decide, however--

“Oi, stranger! Over here!”

Kaya paused in her tracks and turned her head. Another Hyuran man, leaning against a lamppost a few yalms away. He was affixed on her and gesturing toward himself.

“Aye, I mean you.”

Quietly, she approached the man. His hair was a medium brown and his eyes sharp and critical, gazing from behind blue full-moon sunglasses.

He grinned her way. “I ain’t seen your face around here before. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d ‘ave figured by your robes that you were but another wayward shepherd! That knife on your side ain’t no normal vagrant’s tool, though.”

Kaya looked down at her weapon with mild surprise.

“A little young to be an adventurer, but a ‘venturer nonetheless, am I right in thinkin’?”

An adventurer? Kaya thought about this for a moment as she looked back to the man, until she gave a slow nod in affirmation. She decided to go with it.

“How do you know all of this?” she inquired.

“Hah!” The man patted his chest. “Name’s Wymond, see, an’ it’s my business knowin’ every bugger else’s in this city!

“Now, ‘tis plain to anyone with eyes that you don’t know your way around here,” Wymond continued with crossed arms. “If I let you go wanderin' off down the nearest dark alley, you're certain to get mugged or worse. Especially with that busted arm of yours, an' I don't want that on my conscience. Just this once I’ll give you a way of invaluable advice, free of charge for a first-timer like yourself.”

Kaya nodded in response, listening intently.

Wymond held his arm out beside him. “If you keep takin’ the way behind me, down to the next gate on your left, over ‘cross from that you’ll find the Quicksand. Head up some steps an’ through the double doors; you can’t miss it, really.

“You’ll want to speak to the proprietress. Her name’s Momodi ─ an’ aside from the ale, she deals in settin’ people like you on the right path. You would do best to keep an eye on your coin-purse in that place, though.”

“I see,” Kaya respondly softly, with uncertainty about that last bit.

Wymond shrugged. “...An' that's as much as you're gettin' for free. You can be on your way, now. Good luck on the adventurin’, adventurer.”

Kaya understood, and bowed gently. “Thank you, Wymond.” She turned and continued on past him as he bade.

The Quicksand was a well-accomodated place, and also brimming with activity. While many sat, others were content with standing or leaning against walls and pillars, engaged in conversation, and at least one Lalafellin patron passed out on the table (hopefully). Kaya quickly understood what Wymond meant with the coin-purse remark. 

As she waded through toward the other side of the tavern, she saw a mixture of what seemed to be local regulars as well more distinctly dressed individuals. Are they whom that are called adventurers? Kaya wondered.

At last, she spotted a small, red-haired bartender cleaning glass from behind a counter. The Dunesfolk spotted Kaya as she approached and began to smile.

“Why, hello there!” she began. “A fresh face, I see.”

Kaya stopped before her and gave a soft smile back. “Yes... And you would be Miss Momodi, right?”

The bartender sat down her glass and gestured with both arms in welcome. “Aye, that’s me! If you're lookin' to join the Adventurers' Guild, you've come to the right place.”

“...Adventurers’ Guild?” Kaya cocked her head.

“That’s right!” Momodi nodded. “Besides running this fine establishment, I also handle affairs for the Adventurers’ Guild in Ul’dah. You might say that my vocation lookin' after adventurers like yourself.”

“Hm...”

“And lucky for you that it is,” she went on. “Without someone like me to steer you right, you'd no sooner find yourself out in the middle of nowhere, caught up in business you don't understand.

“Like our conflict with the Amalj’aa, who’ve been plaguin' smallfolk and the Sultanate for what seems like... oooh, forever now! Then you have the good ol' Garlean Empire, who none but a few can really be certain what they are up to.”

Kaya frowned uneasily at these words.

“I don’t mean to dissuade you, of course,” Momodi said in assurance. “It is well that you came to me, after all. We’ve been pickin’ ourselves up, slowly but surely, with the Seventh Astral Era declared. Concern remains, though, and there is no shortage of things to do. All I ask is that you lend a helpin' hand.

“So long as you keep your head straight, you should do fine! I’d be here for you if you ever needed a bit of advice or another.” Momodi gave Kaya a thumbs up. “Now,  that said, I would spare you any further jargon lest you wish to hear it. If we are in agreement to this point, I would happily let you join.”

Kaya simply nodded.

“All right! I believe in you, miss!” With that, Momodi lifted up a tome akin to a ledger and slid it over on the bar-counter to Kaya, along with a quill and ink. “Let’s make this official. Go ahead and write your name in the register ─ neat as you can.”

Kaya looked apprehensive. Carefully she picked up the quill and scrawled in the register. As she finished, Momodi took it back to observe it, yet something gave her pause.

“Ahh... huh?”

The writing, in delicate strokes, seemed to be illegible. The characters were unrecognizable to anything Momodi knew, to a point.

Kaya bowed gently. “I-- I’m sorry. I am not in understanding of your written language. If it helps, my name is Kaya Fairblade.”

“Well, that’s fair enough,” Momodi sighed and smiled. “I’ll just write it aside. Kaya, huh? It’s cute!” As she finished, her eyes returned to Kaya.

“Say... you wouldn’t be Doman, would you?”

Kaya’s eyes widened a little. “I... how did you know?”

“Aha!” Momodi looked like she had a revelation. “Well that explains it! You should've said somethin’! I almost didn’t recognize the look.” She put away the book while Kaya looked on in fascination. “’Twas some moon or so ago that I did a service to a friend of mine, one with much renown in these parts, to offer a light respite to some Far Easterners! They just needed a night’s rest and a hot meal before embarkin’ to Mor Dhona. 

“Granted, some of the other locals didn’t take too kindly to my hospitality, but it was the least I could do for my friend and to ease their plight.”

Kaya introspectively raised her hand toward her lips. “So it is true what they have said, about refugees before us...”

“And here I’ve been givin’ you the usual tired words I give to all the newcomers,” Momodi stated as she put the register back underneath the counter. “Please, Miss Fairblade, sit! Do tell me what has brought you to our fair city, if it please you.”

Kaya looked down to a stool, pulling it to her side...

“Aww, sweetie...” Momodi eyed Kaya sadly. “I’ve heard many a sad story during my time, but it seldom eases the pain. I’ll make sure any save a prayer for you and your friends by my bedside at night.” She slid Kaya a cup of hot tea.

The girl raised the cup and took in the aroma. “...I’ll hold hope that I will meet them again. May it be in this life,” as she began.

Kaya nodded in gratitude, and Momodi nodded back. She watched in a moment of quiet with a sad smile. Poor thing, she thought. It’s become all too common that someone as young as her has to talk like that...

“I’ll tell you what,” Momodi broke the silence between them. “I’ll make sure and send word out to my Guild counterpart in Limsa Lominsa, to keep an eye and ear out for your friends; if they have yet to make it on Ul’dahn soil, then they can yet surely make it to the island of Vylbrand. At the very least I can get you some closure out of it.”

Kaya bowed her head, lowering her tea. “...I would be in deep gratitude.”

“In the meantime,” Momodi said as she turned to the shelf behind her. From her, she took what looked like a glass flask of a brilliant verdant liquid. “I think a hi-potion or two might do wonders for that arm of yours. Also, I don’t typically open access to the inn to fresh-off-the-carriage adventurers, but in your case I can make an exception. You may bed at “the Hourglass” for as many a night as you need!”

“I... you are too kind, Lady Modi. Thank you so much.”

“Aw shucks,” Momodi hid her face for a second as if she was blushing. “For these comforts, I only ask further that you uphold your service as an adventurer. ‘Tis risky, but rewarding, and I think you would be up to any task.

“I can’t much more help by ways of coin for clothes and whatnot, alas. Lest the folk start growing suspicious that I’m pickin’ favorites among the greenhorns and refugees, then frankly that’d be rough-going for the both of us. A few helping hands lent here and there should fetch you some goods from the market, easy!”

Kaya’s eyes lit up. “I understand. I shall live to the task of anything I am asked. If I may, though, would you tell me more about adventuring and this city?”

It was a new day, as Kaya descended the steps of the Hourglass. She had procured new clothes from deals made on Sapphire Avenue, including an exotic but fashionable-looking poncho. She cast it over her person and secured her knives therein. 

She felt as if the fire in her was renewed under the desert sun. She was ready to start.