#anyway they are large. big baby has taken over 1/3 of my counter

[curiosity-killed]

7 and 30!

7. what scares you the most and why?

lol well the Anxieties™ would say failure but that's boring so: I am paralyzingly afraid of heights! It is almost 100% a subconscious physical reaction which makes it really funny sometimes because my whole body just! locks up! and won't move!! and i'm like "this is so dumb I KNOW i am fine" but my body's like "DANGER RED ALERT DON'T MOVE THE CLIFF CAN'T SEE YOU IF YOU DON'T MOVE"

both of the best occurrences of this happened at Arches Nat'l Park with my fam where I:

hiked to Delicate Arch, stood out in the photo spot, came back to the bowl and had a snack/water break and then, when we were ready to head back down....had to take off my shoes and crab walk barefoot until my body decided it was fine actually

same day, we went to Double Arch. Double Arch, as you may note, is not actually very high! I saw a great photo opp, darted forward with 0 thought (as you do), got two (2) feet off the ground. And Froze. spread eagle on this wall. Two (2) feet off the ground. 24 inches. My sister saw me, clocked what had happened, and both of started laughing hysterically while a poor woman beside us watched in mild horror

30. what’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier?

seeing my plants grow!! it's silly but I really do make myself take little walks around my apartment when I'm stressed and just Behold the Abundance!!! it works!

fun questions :3

[star-arcana]

Rabbids Bio: Bunny Nr.#1 Sergeuï

Hello guys, here I give you bio's interesting Rabbids from, well the Rabbids series as they are to me one of my favorite species in all fiction and shaped my love for bunnies!!!! Today's Bio is none other than Sergeuï, the bad guy from the first Rabbids game; "Rayman Raving Rabbids" and thus a natural fit for our Nr.#1 Bunny in that series. Without any further do, let's finish this:

"Sergueï is a softy. Out of pure coquetry [flirtatious behavior], he wears a delightful, finely worked metal muzzle. His joie de vivre and [Joy for life in French] his strong sense of repartee [quick, witty conversations, kinda like Edge's language] make him a very pleasant companion. He's always ready to keep things light and lively with little tricks, such as grinding phalanxes, switching your clavicles or even playing "this little piggy" with your toes."

-Manual, Rayman Raving Rabbids

Sergeuï , a.k.a. Grandus Lapinus (french for Big Rabbid), a.k.a. "The Butcher" is as you can see in the wanted post was a very powerful Rabbid and an elite warrior of the Rabbid forces and pretty serious. He has very large arms and uses his big hands to best his foes with ease. He is big and Scary and strong, and should not be taken lightly at all, as he is after all the one, who alongside 3 Rabbids in the intro of Rayman Raving Rabbids successfully captured Rayman and 3 Baby Globoxes during their Picknick, taken them to the Coliseum.

Yep, you heard it right, Rayman, an icon of gaming who bested the likes of Mr.Dark, Admiral Razorbeard and Reflux empowered by the Leptys sceptre, was defeated by Sergeuï, a member of the elite force of the first Rabbid Invasion, this tells you how powerful and cunning he really is!!! Of course Rayman was surprised and caught off guard without his power ups, but the fact that Rayman offered their very little resistance shows that he is capable of dealing blows and pull out tricks that our Hero could not counter... It was undeniably a good idea that Cursa never got this guy's genes, then we would have even worse Spark Hunters to deal with...ugh, the idea makes me shiver to the bones already! Imagine If Bedrock had been made by using Granite and this guys's DNA? We would have probably never won, unless if in that alternative reality, Edge would have gotten Sergeuï's DNA...yeah...terrifying...big and scary...

Anyway he throws Rayman into the Coliseum's arena and Rayman has to perform certain mini tasks to get his reward: Save a Baby Globox and a Plunger as trophy. After completing the first series of minigames Sergeuï sends Rayman to his rather bleak cell via grabbing him with one hand and throwing him in there. If Rayman wants to leave, he would have to play again a series of Mini games and to do that, he would ask Sergeuï to bring him there, who is watching via the door viewer and guarding his cell. Sergeuï would grab Rayman forcefully and take him to the Coliseum for more games. This would mark their first interactions in the game and would continue up until the 7th time. There Sergeuï awaits our Boy without Limbs and greets him. When Rayman tells him to stay, he stands firm and waits for his next round in the Arena. If Rayman then would call Sergeuï, he would surprise Rayman hiding on the left side of the door and wait for Rayman to go first and escort him to the Arena. After Rayman begins to win over time the hearts of the Rabbids over and becoming even more popular, Sergeuï starts to lay down a red carpet for Rayman to enter the cell all the while assembling a chore for Rayman that sings for him and holds many gifts for their hero, the chore btw has them use plumbers as trombones. Sergeuï also is not left out of the fun and dances with a batuta he waves to celebrate Rayman, the new hero of the Rabbids.

He would also over the course of the game play in some of the mini-games like "Bunnies are bad at Peek at boo", where he would play with us Peek at boo within the corridor leading to the arena, with it's entrance being guarded by none other than Sergeuï . We must run with our toes to the door, all the while Sergeuï would turn around and if we move while we are forced to stand still, he would eliminate us...if we are cunning and succeed we will go to the gate, but Sergeuï will try to catch us, only to fail.

Another Mini game called Bunnies have no memory part 2 has us click on Rabbids to repeat the order by which the sounds are given to us to gain points. Sergeuï as you can see appears on the right and clicking on him emits a purple light.

The last mimi game on the list where Sergeuï participates in is the game called Bunnies have natural rhythm part 2, whereby you start playing music in order to punch the Rabbids entranced by the music they are suceptile to: Green Rabbids love the music from the Green Boombok, Blue ones from the Blue Boombox and so forth with Red and Yellow. You have for this challenge 3 hearts and if you get hit by the Rabbids 3 times, game over for you. Sergeuï would in this part stop the music from playing by smashing on it with his big hands, if it's played for too long and if you get even slightly too close to him or he rans over you, you lose a heart. You cannot touch him, he is more untouchable than Reflux, who is btw a Knaaren, a race of Ogre-like people invulnerable to almost anything btw...Sergeuï is a boss! He even composed a song called "The Butcher Deejay" which would put the skills of DJ Cheep Tuna to shame and that track can be heard in the 2 parts of the dance mini game "Bunnies are raving mad" and in the Jukebox within Rayman's cell, if you like to hear it without the mini-game aspect like here:

Overall Sergeuï once hostile to Rayman, became over time a friendly person to Rayman and treats him like an honorary celebrity rather than a prisoner, suggesting a change of attitude the Rabbids have towards Rayman. From kidnapping him, into making him one of their stars through completing games for them, which shows that appearances are deceiving and that these volatile Bunnies are fun-loving and even generous to a point back before they parted ways with Rayman.

This change in behavior and overall development of the Rabbids is based on the concept of Rayman 4, the original Rayman Raving Rabbids, where Rayman would have to impress the Rabbids in the Coliseum in order to liberate his people and win the bunnies over by becoming more popular than their leadership. This idea was here used as well, and it seems that Sergeuï was intended to be also one of many of these Large Rabbids, but they were scrapped and only he remained. What also is weird is that the manual described him as a softie with a lot of repartee and joie de vivre, basically being great with words and having a lot of joy, which he sort of shows over time in the final product, but is not really a typical softy. Still he is despite his initial hostility towards Rayman a good guardian and begins to care for Rayman and treating his captor with a lot of respect, something that would later be lost in the next game with the other bunnies. Below is seeing how that concept flourished at the final parts of the game.

Their special bond will not last forever as Rayman, having acquired a lot of these Plungers after completing more than 10 mini-games for them, uses these well-earned trophies as letters for him to climb up to a far away window where Rayman will escape from the bunnies. He manages to do that, only to realize that he left his friends children, the baby Globoxes in the coliseum and wants to venture back via a hole the Rabbids made near the picnic place, only to get stuck and would remain there like a trapped prey for the rest of the ending, until Rayman Raving Rabbids 2 comes and Sergeuï is nowhere to be seen!!!

Around the same time of RRR's release on the Wii, we got the DS version of "Rayman Raving Rabbids" as well, which is more like a traditional platformer rather than a large collection of solo mini games. is our softy Sergeuï the final boss hovering on an UFO with inflated size while Rayman would use some Rabbid tech to beat him. Sergeuï summons Rabbid allies in many vehicles to help him against Rayman and engage in an energy ball battle a la Ocarina of Time...it's difficult but not impossible and Rayman defeats him and pacifies the Rabbids...this is a weird game in the series and I think beyond being a fun trivia...I think the game would have little bearing on the series...it was very obscure after all.

Afterward we only see Sergeuï in the American cover for RRR2 near on the Edge of the Eiffel Tower right below as you can see, reminiscent of King Kong:

This is the last we have seen of Sergeuï ever since. Either he took some break after his work on the Coliseum or was fired after Rayman was freed, who knows? But some of us some of us Rabbid Fans, including me, hope he will appear in one way or another in the Rayman DLC for Mario + Rabbids Sparks of Hope. He may be a boss or simply be reffrenced or like in the DS game, becomes the final boss of that game as he was the first Rabbid that attacked Rayman and his friends as well as being unique and cool enough to be in there, after all, he would have made a fine Spark Hunter!

As @bramble-scramble said in an answer regarding her views on Sergeuï, his sense of Repartee could be shown here due to us having now translated Rabbidese and would be a lot like Edge, with few, but hard-hitting words. His weapon of choice would be maybe diffrent but rigth now, it would be too exhausting in this bio to further speculate, but we can hope for more Sergeuï, we can hope!

That is it and I will discuss more about him in the future, especially for my Edge fanfic in-planning and how he and Edge would make great friends and why Cursa never bothered to use this guys's DNA...he is so powerful and cute and smart and sexy and BWAMAZING!!

[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 3

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! Thank you to @sancocnutclub​ for her continued encouragement...which will be very apparent in part 4 ;)

rated T / 2.4k words / part 1 / part 2 / AO3

Though he had just passed the first trimester mark in this oversized pregnancy, Killian was pleased to find he was not lacking in the energy department. Granted, his first pregnancy had been similar—he’d had the most energy during the second trimester, despite the increasing size of his belly.

But his belly was a fraction of the size back then. Now, at 13 weeks, it was much closer to the size he’d been at 35 weeks with Hope. But he had yet to slow down—as evidenced by his and Emma’s morning activities; he was even on top.

There was no denying his present form was bulky, but he’d been too fatigued at this size with Hope to do much but sleep and eat. That was not a problem now, and both he and Emma were reaping the benefits. Reaching orgasm while she was caressing his bump? It was impossible to describe how amazing that felt.

However, he’d hardly finished when Hope began to cry out from her nursery. As much as he was still feeling good, moving did take a bit more effort than it had. This bump also weighed as much as his last one, and was only going to get heavier; at least it hadn’t dropped yet. But it meant that Emma was still quicker to her feet than he was, and sprang up to retrieve their 13 month old before she tried to climb out of her crib on her own.

Hope finally figured out walking a month or so ago—just in time for her first birthday—and he was well aware of the comical sight he’d made at her party, chasing after her with his protruding stomach. But at least he still could, even if he got winded more quickly than he’d like. 

Tink had been snickering at him during one such moment. “Hey,” he chastised and patted the bump. “Your kid is in here, so I’d watch the mocking when it comes to running after mine.”

“That’s fair,” she’d conceded. “Just let me know when you need help, though—I’ll gladly go after the little hellion.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They hadn’t needed her help yet, but it was only a matter of time—especially by the sound of tiny but insistent footsteps that were getting faster every day as they ran down the hallway. 

“Dada!” her little voice called out as she charged into the room and threw herself against his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“How’s my little cygnet today?” he enthusiastically replied as he bent down to pick her up. He had to open his legs to make room for the bump, but it was still an achievable feat, and Hope giggled as she flew into the air and the curled in as he carefully tucked her into his side. 

After a brief cuddle, she squirmed for him to set her down on the mattress, and gave his bump a gentle pat. “Hi babies,” she said (or tried to; some of those sounds were still being worked on). She’d noticed the bump a few weeks ago, once it had really started popping out. They couldn’t tell if she actually understood what was going on—and were glad she was young enough to not have to explain it—but she was at least careful and affectionate. 

He just hoped that continued as she grew steadier on her feet—and he grew larger and less so. 

Hope tucked herself back into Killian’s side and Emma sat down on the other. “This is a pretty perfect morning,” she sighed as she laid her head in his bare shoulder. “Do I really have to go into work?”

“I’m of the same opinion—but wasn’t Tiger Lily coming for training today?” She was the fairy who’d offered to take over his deputy duties once he no longer could—and he had a hunch she'd be an acceptable long-term hire. 

“Yeah,” she complained. “Just wish it could wait another day.”

“Or,” he suggested, “we get through today and then we can spend tomorrow in a similar manner.”

“I like the way you think,” she replied, then pulled him in for a kiss. 

He set Hope down on the bed, where she proceeded to tackle the pillows, and went about the process of getting dressed. His sleep pants still fit, although they were reaching the point where they were almost too snug on his hips, which had definitely widened more than last time. 

Thankfully, his maternity jeans were as stretchy as ever, and he hadn’t yet exceeded their capacity; the elastic panel hugged his belly comfortably as he slipped them on. 

Emma had bought him a collection of soft, short-sleeved t-shirts a size larger than he typically wore, and one of those slipped on easily, but the bump still stood prominently under navy cotton. Hopefully, they made these in several larger sizes. 

They stopped at Granny’s before heading to their respective workplaces for the day, and Killian consumed a larger stack of pancakes than he’d like to admit; good thing Belle took his measurements yesterday. At least there was also a generous side of fresh fruit. 

When he and Hope arrived at the library, he was only semi-surprised to see Blue there; she seemed to be showing up once a month or so to check in, but today had another goal. 

“Would you be okay with getting an ultrasound?” she asked. 

That was shocking. “Sure,” he said, “but will it be okay for them?” he countered, rubbing his belly. Inside, they seemed to be fluttering nervously. 

“If it’s fine for a human baby, it should be for them. It’s just—I see all these thorough notes and comparisons, and I’m curious what that would reveal.”

“Whale says he has an opening,” Belle added, phone in hand. “Shall we?”

They did, and headed out en masse to make the short walk to the hospital. At least, it should have been short, but Hope insisted on walking on her own and Killian’s pace wasn’t as fast as it normally was. 

Whale met them in the waiting room when they arrived, though, an eager look on his face. “Wondered if I'd see you this time around,” he greeted. “I’ve gotta say—I’m pretty curious about this.”

“Aren’t we all,” Killian answered dryly, bracing his hook against his lower back. 

“Come on; let’s take a peek in there,” Whale beckoned, and led them to an exam room. 

Killian passed Hope off to Blue and began the process of climbing up on the exam table; again—he was doing fine on the energy front, but a large bump was a large bump, and it not only was an obstacle to his mobility, but he was carrying around some weight he hadn’t been 13 weeks ago (and in more places than just the bump).

But he managed to get up there and lifted up his shirt without prompting; he knew the drill. During his seemingly arduous climb, Whale had been looking over Belle’s notes from both pregnancies. “Damn,” he commented. “I think your notes are more detailed than my charts.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Killian called out; Whale just chuckled and moved to ready the ultrasound machine while Belle rolled her eyes and readied her pen. 

Killian had forgotten how cold the gel was, but he got over it quickly as Whale began to move the probe over his (thankfully stretch mark-free) stomach. 

“Well I’ve never seen that before,” Whale said after a bit, and everyone focused on the screen. 

“I thought those were only in black and white?” Belle asked. 

“They are,” Whale confirmed. 

And yet, as the tiny images of multiple babies appeared on the screen, each one was showing up in a different color—the color of the orbs they started as. Tink’s green stood out front and center, but as Whale moved the probe over the dome that was Killian’s abdomen, all the other colors showed up, except—

“Where’s mine?” Blue asked, understandably worried. 

“Hmm,” Whale hummed, investigating. “One, two,” he started counting, finding 8 that were easily visible. “But it looks like…” He pressed harder on Killian’s belly, to the point of discomfort, but he didn’t complain—not when Blue looked so worried. 

“Yeah, there’s definitely one hiding in there,” Whale said. “I just can’t zero in. There’s some color bleeding through, though…”

And in between a pink-hued and navy-hued fetus, a bit of bright blue was visible. Blue sighed in relief. “Yeah, she’s just being stubborn,” Whale assured her. “You can probably blame it on Hook.”

“Hey!” he protested, but Belle’s snicker suggested she agreed.

“Anyways—from a development standpoint, yeah, I’d put you right at 13 weeks, although probably half the size. Were it a normal pregnancy, I’d guess you’d only go to 30 weeks or so, for safety—but I’m guessing that won’t be the case here?”

“No,” Blue said. “He’ll go all the way to full term.”

Whale whistled. “Thank goodness they’re small then.”

Several copies of the sonogram were printed off—as mysteriously colorful as they were on screen—with Killian taking one, another going in Belle’s notebook, and the rest going with Blue. There was some discussion of doing another ultrasound at the second trimester, but it was ultimately deemed unnecessary.

Whale bid them adieu but they lingered in the room, if only because it took Killian a bit to clean off the gel (he hated the way it got caught in the bit of hair on his stomach). Belle was wrangling the kids, but Blue was staring at the pictures, almost in awe. 

“You were worried, weren’t you?” Killian asked softly. “That she wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Blue admitted. “It’s rare, but sometimes, they don’t all take. And I’ve just—I’ve waited so long for this.”

“I understand.” It had taken him and Emma quite some time to conceive Hope, and obviously they required assistance. 

“I guess I’ll just have to be patient,” she sighed. 

“Aye,” he agreed. “But—” He placed his hand on the top of his bump and furrowed his brow in concentration. “I’m almost positive she’s kicking my bladder at the moment.”

It drew the polite chuckle he was going for, but also meant he needed to excuse himself. Blue also took that moment to take her leave, but not without an emphatic thank-you.

He had to admit, as he shuffled off to the bathroom—he’d definitely been resentful of this arrangement to an extent. But seeing Blue’s genuine emotions there at the prospect of parenthood made that feeling dissipate. 

He was sure he’d have a mountain of complaints by the end of this, but being able to grant so many others the joys he’d found as a parent—that would be worth it. 

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

At 16 weeks, he hit the same measurements he had when he was at full term with Hope (literally those of the day before he’d gone into labor). But the bump still sat high on his frame. “I wonder if whatever magic is preventing stretch marks is also holding it aloft,” he quipped as he traced the curve of his belly. 

“It’s entirely possible,” Belle concurred. “Look at the difference.” In addition to measured data, she also had photographic documentation of his various milestones in both pregnancies; comparing the picture she’d just taken on her phone to the one from right before Hope entered the world, it was plain to see the similarities in how much they extended in front of him, but the difference in where it sat on his body. 

“We’ll see how long it lasts, though.”

In answer to his theory, he got another few weeks before things began to sit lower, though his stomach continued it’s outward expansion—a couple centimeters every week. But by his 17th week, he finally started feeling the pull of gravity and had to dig out the belly band he’d relied on the last month or so with Hope. 

But he soon noticed another issue. While he remembered what it was like to not be able to see his feet, and had gotten used to the obstacle about his midsection, he wasn’t prepared for it to stick out even more. 

Case in point: one morning during his 18th week, when he was attempting to surprise Emma with breakfast (usually she rose first, but a flurry of activity in his belly had woken him early). However, he was a bit farther from the stove than he was used to, as well as the cabinets, and he kept knocking into the chairs around the table; Hope was watching him from her own high chair in amusement, far more interested in his slapstick endeavor than her cereal. 

“What’s going on?” Emma’s sleepy voice asked after he cursed at nearly burning his belly on the oven. 

“Nothing,” he huffed, rubbing the spot on his bump that was just a bit too warm. “Just a failed attempt at treating my amazing wife.”

She glanced around, then smiled. “You were trying to make me breakfast but then your belly got in the way?”

“Aye,” he sighed. 

She walked over to him and pulled him into a hug—from the side, since she already couldn’t get close enough from the front—and turned his face towards her to kiss him. “You’re too sweet,” she said, tucking herself into his side. “And you treated me plenty last night,” she added in a low voice; he swallowed at the memory of their shared moment—probably one of the last times he’d be able to make love on top for a while, unless they got creative with the logistics, but dammit, he did it, and it was amazing. 

“I can finish this up; take a seat, okay?”

“I should be able to do this, though,” he complained. 

“And you will—in 5 months or so. But I told you I’d support you with this, so let me.”

He sighed again, but complied, and ignored the creak of his chair as he sat down (angled away from the table—he was also up a size in shirts, but his jeans were holding on…for now). “How did the gods see fit to bless this poor bastard with such an amazing woman?” he asked, watching the blush rise on her cheeks. 

“The same way they did for this lost girl,” she countered, then put a (heaping) plate in front of him. 

“I love you so much, Swan—thank you.”

She placed another kiss on his lips. “I love you too—always.”

Even if this wasn’t an ideal situation, he knew that he was blessed to have Emma at his side; he wouldn’t be able to get through this without her. 

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

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez​ @jennjenn615​ @superadam54​ @ashley-knightingale​ @justsomewhump​ @teamhook​ @88infinity88​​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On

Ch 17-Let Me Take An Elfie…

Summary: Christmas arrives in the Adler household and its full of laughter, giggles, and one huge gift that money simply can’t buy…

Warnings:  Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  So, like, I’m over 2020 and wish it was Christmas already. This chapter brings Riding On Part 1 to a close and I’ll be likely taking a little break from writing this to concentrate on some stuff I have going on Stark Spangled for the Birthday Party! I hope you enjoy!

This one is dedicated to The Evangers…you know who you are!

Chapter Song:  I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday by Wizard (because who doesn’t?) 

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

When the Snowman brings the snow, well he just might like to know, he’s put a great big smile on somebody’s face. If you jump into your bed, quickly cover up your head. Don’t you lock the doors, you know that sweet Santa Clause is on the way.

 Monday morning rolled round and for the first time in ages Frank woke well rested. After their plan had worked, he and Fliss had played the recording back to Greg who had been torn between calling them a pair of reckless dumbasses, and being elated with what it meant. Whilst he was unsure the court would permit it as evidence, he was going to have “some damned fun filing it anyway” and then set about giving them the final coaching for the Child Welfare Department interviews on Monday.

To Frank and Fliss, this was the final thing they could do. The last chance they had to get their feelings across and make a good impression before it was then over to the courts. And whilst Fliss was still hopeful that Polland would sign the papers as soon as he realised they had him on tape, Frank wasn’t quite as optimistic. So it was for that reason that over breakfast on the Monday he found himself rehearsing his speech to the Social Worker, just had he had done 2 years or so prior.

He needn’t have bothered though because, as Greg had predicted, the Social Workers discussion with him mainly centred on practical things such as Frank’s new job and his role, what Fliss did for a living, their new home and a little bit of digging into her background which was done sensitively and compassionately. It was the same Social Worker from 2 years back, a dark haired lady called Sarah Kellet, which Frnak was glad about, and she’d smiled when she’d run through things, checking all the facts that Greg had provided her before simply stating that was all she needed.

“What, no soul-searching questions?” Frank asked, arching an eyebrow. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Not this time.” she smiled “It’s a little different Mr Adler. You already have formal Guardianship over Mary so this isn’t about whether you’re suitable or not. This is really just a fact gathering exercise about whether or not formally providing you with Parental Status would be in her best interests.”

Frank swallowed and Fliss gently tangled her fingers in his as Sarah looked at them and smiled.

“Don’t worry.” She beamed. “When I spoke to Mary before it’s clear she’s exceptionally settled, and she adores her new brother as she refers to him as. You’ve created a very stable and loving environment for her, you’re financially credible, not that that’ the be all and end all, and you have a home, family support…all of this will be evidenced in my report.”

“So, do you make recommendations to the court?” Fliss asked and Sarah shook her head.

“Not as such, I’m merely here to pull together a factual, comprehensive report on how Mary is.” She tapped her pen slightly “And it’s always a little easier in cases like this when the minor has been in the care of the applicant prior to it. But, I will be making it quite clear in my conclusions that from the CWD point of view it would be in Mary’s best interests for the court to allow the adoption to go ahead, regardless of Mary’s father raising his objections. Basically if comes down to it, we’ll be fighting your corner.”

Fliss turned to Frank who let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and she smiled at him.

“So, that’s it.” Sarah shrugged. “I’ll send a copy of everything through to the courts and your attorney Mr Adler. All that’s left is for me to wish you both a Merry Christmas and I’ll see you at the hearing whenever that is.” They both rose, shaking her hand and then Frank held the door to the room open for Fliss. She stepped out in front of him, and turned to him smiling.

“That’s it.” She shrugged “We did everything we could.” “Yeah, yeah I know.” He nodded “I’m just relieved it’s all over. Well, for now anyway.”

“Yup, so let’s get on with enjoying Christmas.” Fliss beamed as they walked down the corridor to the little area at the bottom where Mary was waiting. She was sat, reading a book being supervised by another one of the social workers and looked up, smiling as they entered. The woman who’d be supervising left them alone after bidding them goodbye and the three of them walked out to the truck.

“Think your mom and dad will be ok with Alex for a little longer?” Frank asked as Mary bounced ahead of them slightly.

“Sure, why?”

“I thought we could take her for a pizza and bowling, just the 3 of us before we pick Evelyn up from the airport.” Frank said “Been a while since we went.” “Yeah, sounds good.” Fliss beamed “I’ll call mum and let her know.”

Of course Verity and Bill were only too happy to keep Alex. Sian and the twins had arrived earlier that morning and Verity told Fliss that Sian was enjoying Auntie cuddles whilst batting her eyes at Steve asking him if he fancied another. Steve’s response had been to choke on his coffee. They headed to the bowling alley, where Fliss and Mary found to their delight that the skittles were all painted like elves for the festive period. They had 3 games and as usual they whooped Frank’s ass, leaving him in a fake mood declaring Christmas was cancelled. No sooner had the words left his mouth, Mary had vaulted onto his back causing him to laugh and attempt to pull her off. Eventually he succeeded and dangled her upside down by her ankles, the girl shrieking as he swung her round before setting her down.

“She’s getting a bit big to do that with now!” he looked at Fliss, letting out a huff as Mary righted her sweater and climbed into the truck.

“Well, she is 10 in a couple of months.” Fliss smiled and Frank shook his head.

“Don’t remind me.”

Fliss chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat and the 3 of them headed off to the airport to collect Evelyn. They stood in the arrival lounge, Frank’s arm tossed over Fliss’ shoulders and Fliss could tell he was a little apprehensive. This was the first time he’d seen Evelyn since she had admitted outright she’d bribed Polland to give evidence. He’d told Fliss he wasn’t sure how he was going to react, that he didn’t want to be angry, but he couldn’t help it. Fliss had simply told him that they’d deal with whatever happened when it came.

As Evelyn walked through the glass double doors, pulling a huge case behind her, Mary shot forwards to greet her and the woman bent down, giving her a cuddle. Once more it struck Frank just how different it all was to the first meeting they’d had just over 2 years ago and as he watched his mother gently smooth Mary’s hair back any anger he was feeling simply dissipated. He knew only too well after the events of the last few years, he couldn’t change the past but he could make sure history never repeated itself. He watched as Mary and his mother made their way over to him and he took a deep breath as Evelyn glanced up at him, her face wrought with worried anticipation. She opened her mouth to say something, and Frank knew full well it was going to be an apology so he shook his head.

“It’s done.” He said simply “And I don’t wanna waste a single second more thinking about it, ok mom?”

Evelyn nodded, tears filling her eyes, and then in a sudden display of affection she moved to embrace him. It was a little stiff but Frank didn’t shy away, wrapping his arms around his mother in a gentle hug before he pulled away and took her bag off her.

When they reached Bill and Verity’s neither Frank nor Fliss was surprised to find that Verity had laid a spread on. She loved entertaining and so had taken it upon herself to pull together a buffet consisting of a selection of cold meats, breads, crudités, dips and savoury snacks along with a huge plate of her infamous brownies. No sooner had Frank walked into the kitchen he had a beer thrust into his hand by Steve who winked at him and he turned to Fliss a little sheepishly with a shrug.

“I’ll drive home.” She rolled her eyes playfully as she gently turned Alex so that he was against her chest, head raised slightly as he looked around.

“Oh fuck that.” Evelyn said, taking the red wine that Bill handed her as Frank gave a snort at his mother’s language, not that it surprised him, she’d always been quite colourful that way despite her proper appearance and professional demeanour “We’ll get a cab. It’s Christmas.” “See, she gets it!” Steve nodded to Evelyn who simply shrugged and took a sip of her wine before she set it down on the kitchen counter.

“May I?” she asked Fliss, gesturing to Alex and Fliss smiled.

“Of course, here…” she passed him over and Evelyn looked at the baby who broke into a gummy smile.

“He gets more like you ever time I see him.” Evelyn whispered, looking at Frank who smiled.

“Yeah, so I’m told” he shrugged, attempting an air of nonchalance but as Fliss looked at him smirking he knew he had failed. He fucking loved the fact his boy looked like him, it massaged his ego and he didn’t care one iota about how smug it made him appear.

After Mary, Charlie and Joel had eaten, the three of them headed upstairs to the movie room, arms laden with snacks as Bill put The Santa Clause on the large screen and the adults all settled in the living room. Evelyn asked if she could feed Alex and Frank obliged, handing her the baby and the bottle. There was a little more chat before Verity cleared her throat and addressed the huge elephant in the room.

“So, how did it go with the social worker kids?”

Fliss and Frank exchanged a glance before Frank smiled “Good, really good. In fact, she said in her conclusion they’ll recommend the adoption is processed regardless of any objections but, we’ll see. For now we’ve done everything we can so it’s down to the court in the New Year.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s great, that’s really….great.” Bill said, nodding as his eyes misted over and Verity stood up, moving to give Fliss a cuddle as her eyes had filled at the sight of her father’s emotions. Frank could feel the tears stabbing at his eyes too so, under the guise of nipping to the bathroom he took a moment and headed through the kitchen and out of the bi-folding doors, stepping onto the veranda which overlooked the landscaped garden and pool area.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t been out there that long when he heard someone behind him. A tumbler of scotch was pushed into his hand and he looked up as Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Thought you might need that.” He said, as he set the bottle and his own glass down on the table, fishing in his pocket for his cigarettes. As he sparked it up he took a drag, blowing it out to the side taking care to remain hidden.

“Fucking 38 and still hiding the fact I smoke from my mum.” Steve snorted and Frank shook his head.

“Hate to break it to you Steeb but she knows.” He chuckled at the look on Steve’s face “She was complaining to Fliss about it the other day.” “No shit.” Steve muttered, “Oh, well, fuck it…”

Frank laughed again and took a sip of his drink before he asked Steve about the house he was purchasing just out east of Tampa. Steve explained the sale was going through now and they should be ready to move in towards the middle of January.

“Good.” Frank nodded “If you need a hand, moving and stuff, just holler. Lord knows you did enough for us, I’d be glad to help.” “Don’t worry you will be.” Steve smirked and Frank snorted.

“How’s Sian taking to the move? Fliss said she was a little apprehensive.” “Yeah, she was.” Steve shrugged “But she’s also excited. I mean of course she’s nervous to leave her family behind but she knows it’s too good an opportunity to pass up on, and it won’t be forever. Probably about 5 years or so and we’ll head back home.” “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Frank said, knocking back his scotch.

“Why’s that?” Steve asked, his voice coming out as a slight mumble as he held his cigarette between his lips so he could top Frank’s glass up again.

“Well-cheers-“ Frank nodded, taking the tumbler off him “-it’s like Fliss said, once this place gets it’s claws into you, you kinda grow to love it.”

Steve chuckled and dropped his now done dab end onto the floor under his foot before he bent down and retrieved it, slipping it into his pocket to dispose of later.

“So, Fliss told you that we got family coming out this New Year?” Steve asked.

“She mentioned one of her cousins…” Frank paused “Tabs was it?”

“Babs.” Steve corrected “We got 4, there’s Eva who’s married to a Police Officer called Ari, Jen who’s married to a lawyer called Andy and Amber who is married to Curtis…” “He the train mechanic?” Frank racked his memory and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, they all still live in Liverpool but Babs, the one that’s coming…she’s something else.” Steve snorted. “She lives in Australia with a photographer called Hugh. Well, I say photographer, he’s kind of a trust fund rich boy that plays at it, you know? Nice enough guy though, always happy to shout you on a night out.”

“So they making a special trip over or…” “They’re taking some kind of sabbatical, if you can take a sabbatical from doing fuck all.” Steve shrugged “6 month tour of the US starting here. She’s fucking great fun though. Her and Fliss are the same age and were thick as thieves growing up, used to get into all sorts of mischief.” He shook his head. “They once set fire to a bin on a park. By accident mind. They were pretending to smoke these hollow twig things stuffed with dried grass and when one set on fire Babs panicked and tossed it into the bin.” Frank snorted as Steve continued.

“The whole thing went up.” Steve chuckled “So they legged it and got followed home by an off duty copper. Dad and Uncle Ted went ballistic…

“Wait…you dad’s brother is called Ted?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, Bill and Ted.” Steve grinned. Frank looked at him, before the pair of them burst out laughing, and couldn’t stop. It wasn’t that funny, it really wasn’t, but the more Steve laughed, the more Frank did, and the more Frank laughed, the more Steve died. By the time Frank managed to control himself he had tears of pure mirth in his eyes and he wiped them as his laughter subsided and he managed to take a breath, clutching at his side.

“What you two laughing at?” Fliss asked, stepping outside.

“Your face.” Steve shot back.

“Twat.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him and she turned to Frank who was still chuckling “And I don’t know what you find so funny…”

“Nothing at all baby.” He smirked, dropping a kiss to her head, “Nothing at all.” ******

There were sore heads in the Adler household the next day. They’d stayed at Bill and Verity’s till well past midnight, and had left Mary there as she’d passed out asleep with the twins in the movie room. After they’d managed to herd all the kids to bed, the adults had continued drinking and eventually called it a night when Bill had fallen asleep in his arm chair, dropping his glass of brandy all over the floor.

Fliss had stable duties that morning, and took off early even though she felt she was still half drunk and when she returned a few hours later Frank and Evelyn were sat at the breakfast bar, each nursing cups of coffee and looking half dead. Eventually they all managed to muster enough about themselves to shower, dress and head over to pick Mary up. Frank was low-key pleased to see Steve looked worse than he felt and after a quick coffee they set off into the little town to have a walk round the Christmas Stalls that had been set up before they grabbed a bite to eat and Evelyn started telling Fliss a few stories about Frank and Diane when they had been children at Christmas.

“I think my personal favourite will be the carol service when you were 6.” Evelyn looked at Frank and he groaned taking a sip of his soda as he leaned back in his chair “He has a lovely voice you know and that year he was selected to do a solo.” “We don’t need to hear this…” Frank started to protest but Fliss cut him off.

“Yes we do, go on Evelyn.”

“So his particular hymn was Hark, the Herald Angels Sing. And the line ‘God and sinners reconciled’ was proving a little tricky for him as he rehearsed.”

“I was 6.” Frank deadpanned.

“I’m well aware, it still doesn’t stop it being funny.” Evelyn grinned “So up he gets, sings out the song note and word perfect until he gets to this line and belts out ‘God and sinners dressed in style’”

Fliss snorted and Mary let out a howl of laughter.

“You’re such a loser” she looked at him

“Quit it or you’ll be getting no presents tomorrow morning.”

“Whatever”

“Hey, do you remember that year grandpa sent us nothing?” Frank suddenly had a recollection and he looked at Evelyn who let out a loud laugh.

“God yes, you and Diane were disgusted!”

“Oh, the last year before he died-“ Frank started to explain as Fliss looked at him blankly “-well, he was clearly feeling his age and found that shopping for Christmas gifts had become too difficult. So he decided to send checks to everyone instead. In each card he wrote, ‘Buy your own present!’ and mailed them early. Only when we opened them, there was no check…he’d forgotten to enclose them with the cards.”

“So you all literally got a card with ‘buy your own present’ written inside?” Fliss laughed and Frank chuckled

“Yeah, which to be fair dad thought was hilarious but…poor Grandpa was devastated. He tried to blame Santa, of course, but it didn’t wash.”

“That’s because Santa isn’t real.” Mary looked at him.

“Yes he is.” Fliss sighed “I’m not having this debate with you again.” “You said yourself the other day that Frank was incapable of organising anything because he was a man so how could one dude organise gifts for the entire world?” Mary looked at her and Frank turned his head slowly to Fliss.

“Oh, you did, did you?”

Fliss hesitated, before she sighed “Come on, your organisational skills at home are ridiculous.”

“Do our bills get paid on time?”

“Yes, but-“

“Have either of the kids died yet?”

“No…” Fliss laughed.

“Then we’re good!” Frank shrugged, his hand gently dropping to his son’s tummy as he lay asleep in the stroller parked next to him “I find your lack of faith disturbing. And if we’re being sexist, I know Santa is a man as a woman wouldn’t be able to hack driving a sleigh around for a night, not to mention the complete mess she’d make trying to park it…”

“Wow!” Fliss looked at him as he laughed, “Ok, buddy, I bed I can think of 5 reasons why I would jump at the chance to be Santa.”

“Go on.” He teased and Fliss held up her hand, counting on her fingers as she spoke.

“One, I could grow to the size of Hawaii knowing it’s simply all part of the job. Two, I’d simply be able to buy one big, black belt, and brass buckle, and be accessorized for life. Three there would be no reason to have my hair colour done. Four, everyone would be extremely nice to me, regardless of my behaviour and five, if people commented that my belly jiggled when I laughed I could hit them with my purse.”

“Six…” Evelyn picked up as Frank laughed “You would always work in sensible footwear”

Frank shook his head “She always is anyway, not like you wear high heels to ride horses in and muck out stalls…”

“Those boots hurt when they’re not worn in.” Mary jabbed back “I know.”

With a snort Frank leaned back and looked down at Alex “Buddy, you better hurry up and start talking, I need someone here to even out the numbers.”

After another hour or so, when it was dark, they headed home and Evelyn bid them all a good night, heading to her guest suite above the garage to read and relax, declining their offer to join them for a drink stating she’d had quite enough the night before.

Mary wasn’t far behind, the excitement of the last few days having wiped her out, plus as she reminded Frank and Fliss, the sooner she went to bed the sooner it would be present time. She headed off for a bath before she settled down with her book upstairs and an hour or so later Frank went up to took her in, finding her fast asleep with Fred curled around her head.

It wasn’t even 8:30 pm and Fliss and Frank were all set for the evening. Presents wrapped, kids settled, and Frank had just moved to grab them a beer each when his phone sounded in his pocket.  He glanced at the shitty Nokia he was being forced to use after smashing his Samsung against the wall and frowned.

“It’s Greg.” He said before he answered. “Hey man.”

“S’up, listen, you guys free if I pop in for 5? I got a Christmas card for you and I forgot to drop it off earlier.”

“Yeah, sure.” Frank chuckled. “Just come on round the back, gate and the door are open.”

“No worries pal, see you in 15.”

“He coming over?” Fliss asked as Frank tossed the phone down on the side.

“Yeah, just for 5 minutes. Says he has a card for us.”

“A card?”

“Yeah, you know what he’s like. He’s probably had it for weeks and forgotten about it.” Frank shrugged, passing Fliss an open beer as they both crossed to the sofa. They settled down to watch the Christmas special of Brooklyn 99 and true to his word, Greg walked in 15 minutes or so later.

“Hey Greg, you want a beer?” Frank stood up, gesturing to the kitchen area.

“No I can’t stay, I just wanted to give you this before tomorrow.”

Frank paused and took the envelope off him. “This isn’t a card?” he frowned.

“No, it’s a little better than that.” Greg beamed as Fliss rose to her feet, crossing to where Frank was stood. With a frown, Frank turned the envelope over, opened it and as his eyes scanned the piece of paper he felt his mouth grow dry and his heart suddenly pounded so hard he felt it was going to thump right out of his chest.

“He signed the papers…” Frank whispered, swallowing as he looked at the document in his hands. “Lissy, Polland…he signed the adoption papers.”

“What?” Fliss breathed out as she took it from him, her eyes roving the wording before she looked at Frank, then Greg. “I- when?”

“I had a call earlier this afternoon saying they were dropping the objection.” Greg smiled. “Seems he suddenly had a change of heart when his Attorney told him he was on tape confessing to taking a bung and attempting to blackmail Fliss. I won’t tell you what he called him, it was a 4 letter word and ended in t…pretty sure you can fill in the gaps.” He nodded to the paper in Fliss hand “I asked him to hurry that through and it arrived about half an hour before I called. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“So…we don’t need to go to court?” Frank breathed out, his eyes brimming with tears.

Greg shook his head “There’ll be a finalisation hearing in January but coupled with that and the CWD report it’s gonna simply be a formality. It’s as good as done.” “So, we’re…” Fliss took a deep breath “We’re gonna be her parents?”

Greg nodded. “Yup.”

Frank was struggling for words as he looked at his best friend before he pulled him into a huge bro hug. He stepped back, wiping his eyes as Fliss moved forward to hug Greg too, before they both walked him to his car.

“I owe you, big time.” Frank croaked and Greg waved him away as he opened the door to his Merc.

“I told you it would work out.” He shrugged, smiling broadly. “Merry Christmas guys.”

The two of them waved him off before Fliss turned to Frank, her tears falling down her cheeks “I can’t believe it…” “Me neither.” Frank spluttered and Fliss leaped into his arms, the pair of them laughing in sheer joy. Even thought they’d thrown themselves into the holiday spirit, neither of them had been able to shake that little feeling that a small, dark cloud was still following them. And now that was gone.

It was over. All over. They’d won.

Fliss and Frank headed back inside, both resisting the urge to wake Mary to tell her, deciding they’d leave it for the morning, but they absolutely did decide to crack a bottle of champagne open.

But Frank had an even better idea, one that came to him on a whim as they walked back through their garden. Silently he disappeared into the little laundry room at the side of the kitchen and when he emerged, Fliss had her back to him so she didn’t see him deposit the 2 pool towels on the breakfast bar. He moved to where she reaching for two champagne flutes, and as she stood on her tiptoes, he wrapped his arms around her from behind causing her to jump a little.

“I can’t believe it.” Fliss whispered “I mean I hoped he’d back down but…”

“I know” Frank kissed her neck tenderly “Another huge Christmas Eve huh? Second one in a row?”

Yeah.” She sighed happily, her hands falling on top of his arms, rubbing gently. “You know last year I was so nervous when I found out I was pregnant.”

“So was I, and that was before you told me that bit of news.” He smiled, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’d been trying to propose for ages. I was shitting my pants it was gonna go wrong or you’d turn me down.”

“Not a chance Sailor.” She turned her head to look at him. “You’re stuck with me.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and the pair of them stood in silence in their kitchen, lost in their own thoughts, simply looking out of the window over their garden which was illuminated softly by the lighting round the pool area. Eventually Frank remembered his original plan and he smiled to himself.

“So all the presents are wrapped, everyone’s in bed waiting for the big guy with the sack to arrive…” Frank muttered, his lips grazing her neck “The pool heaters have been on all day…what about a Christmas Eve dip?”

Fliss turned in his arms, arching an eyebrow “Would you merely be trying to get me naked Francis?”

“Yes.” He nodded and she giggled.

“Skinny dipping? On Christmas Eve?”

“You lost your sense of adventure Cowgirl?” he teased.

Fliss peered round him to where Alex was sleeping in the basinet and with a grin pulled back and whipped off her T-shirt. “Does that answer your question?”

Frank laughed and caught the top as she threw it at him, tossing it to the side as he grabbed the towels. By the time he caught up with her outside Fliss was on the edge of the pool in nothing but her baby-blue cotton panties and his eyes scanned up her legs and the rest of her body until they locked onto hers. She bit her lip as she stepped out of her underwear and Frank felt his cock twitch as she turned and coyly shot him a look over her shoulder before she descended down the mosaic tiled steps at the shallow end of the pool.  

Not wanting to waste a second more he threw the towels down on one of the sun loungers and reached over his head, grabbing a fistful of his grey t-shirt. He pulled it off before be quickly undid his belt and in one swoop yanked down his loose jeans and boxers.

Fliss dropped off the bottom step, her shoulders dipping under the warm water as she turned to watch Frank following her in, her eyes trailing up from his knees over his thighs, semi-erect cock which stood beneath that happy trail that led down his slim, flat yet ever so slightly soft stomach and up to his broad shoulders and strong arms. Her eyes moved to his handsome face, the stubble on his jaw line always gave him a more rugged look and his short hair was spiked up messily as it usually was at the end of the day.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

And not just on the outside. Even before the events of the last few weeks Fliss knew her man was the most caring, wonderful and doting father and lover on the planet but since the issue with Polland had raised its head she'd seen a side to him that she had only ever caught glimpses of before. A softer, vulnerable side and it filled her heart with even more love for him for reasons she couldn't explain other than it just did. He wasn't afraid to show weakness to her, he wasn't ashamed to tell her his fears. Because they were a true partnership. And as she watched him crouch down so his body was submerged in the water, his eyes sparkling in the lights, she felt an unnerving spike of desire that was so strong it surged right from her toes up her body, leaving her slightly fuzzy headed, like she was drunk on love. 

Frank cocked his head playfully to the side as Fliss gracefully pushed off the ball of her foot and swam towards him before she twisted in the water slightly and brought her legs out in front of her. She wrapped them round his waist, settling herself on his lap as his large hands gently splayed on her back. Fliss nuzzled her nose against his chin, nudging his head back so she could chain soft kisses across his jaw line, her lips skating the bristles on his face as she gently nipped at his skin. Frank let out a soft sigh, his hands pulling her closer as she moved her affections down his neck, over his Adam’s apple before she gently sucked at the junction of his shoulder and neck, grinding down on him, her bare core slicking over his cock.

"Fuck, Liss..." he stuttered, pulling back to look at her, the water sloshing around them "what's got into you, pretty girl?"

"Nothing yet." She purred back.

Frank looked at her, but before he could make a smart reply she’d dropped her hand from his shoulder into the pool and wrapped her palm around him making him choke on his words slightly as she stroked him with a few quick flicks of her wrist.

“Jesus baby…” he managed to croak as her eyes locked onto his and a smirk curled on her lips. She leaned forwards, her teeth nipping at his ear and he gave a soft groan, his head falling back slightly as she continued to work him, her hand pumping up and down his now rock hard dick. And then she stopped, and he felt her mouth curve open and her breath was hot on his skin as she whispered 3 words that sent red hot fire coursing through his entire body.

“Fuck me, Sailor.”

He didn’t need asking twice. 

Fliss moved herself, guiding him to where she wanted and she sank down onto his length, his hands grabbing her hips as she took him in completely, a low, drawn out gasp escaping her lips as Frank hissed slightly as her walls clamped around him. He gave himself a moment, enjoying the feel of her before he thrust upwards, his fingers curling around her soft flesh as he drew back slowly, before pushing back into her deeply, rotating his hips. Fliss’ hands curled around his shoulders, her head tipping back, eyes closed in pleasure, the action causing her breasts to rise out of the water. Keeping his rhythm slow and deep he dipped his head, his tongue tracing a stripe down her cleavage, the salty tang of the pool water hitting his taste buds as he directed his attention to her nipple, flicking and sucking softly, all the time listening and feeling her reactions as she pushed down further against him, desperate for more. For whatever reason, Fliss was in a downright filthy mood and Frank had a feeling that slow and steady wasn’t going to be enough. He moved his mouth, nipping up her neck before his lips pressed onto hers, the kiss filthy as his tongue fucked her mouth and he pulled back as he began to back himself up to the side of the pool.

With a quick movement he turned so Fliss’s back was against the tiled edge, and he looked at her as she stared at him, her deep brown eyes wide with lust as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

“Turn around.” He instructed, his voice low and Fliss complied, moving off him and spinning in the water. One large hand slid up her spine to her neck and his fingers gently curled around her nape as he pushed her forwards slightly, before he slid both his hands up her arms and directed her hands to grip at the lip of the pool.

Fliss’ body was tingling with anticipation. Her palms gripped round the rough surface of the pool edge as she surrendered to Frank’s control, his chest pressing against her back, lips sucking at her neck.

“If this is too much, tell me…” he whispered against her skin. Fliss tilted her face round to look at him, seeing those ocean blues she loved shining with love and what looked like a slight glimmer of concern. And she knew why. Whilst their sex was hot, passionate, loving, it was very rarely rough because he didn’t want to push her too far knowing her past. But she wanted this, she needed it. She smiled at him, pressing her lips to his.

“I trust you.” She promised him gently and Frank kissed her again before he pulled away. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her ass up so her feet planted on the floor of the pool as he rose to his, the water lapping around his thighs as he buried himself into her with one swift movement. He pulled out slowly before he thrust back into her, grinding against her as she gasped, her head tilting backwards as he continued rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, his movements gathering pace until he built up into a fast, relentless rhythm, every drive into her jolting her forwards slightly as she braced herself against the edge with her arms, elbows locked to absorb the shock. Pants, whimpers, soft cries and the debauched sound of sloshing and skin slapping skin filled the otherwise silent night air of the garden and Frank dropped his eyes to the point where he was pounding in and out of his girl, the sight of where they were joined was hot as fuck and he let out a groan as he watched for a second, before his eyes flicked back up to Fliss. Her head was dropped between her arms, slightly twisted to the right and he could see her eyes were closed, jaw slack, full lips open in a silent cry.

As he continued his powerful, fast thrusts, his cock brushed occasionally against that spot inside and Fliss felt the coil in her belly beginning to tighten slowly, each time he hit it. Frank adjusted his stance and bent over, his right hand falling over hers as he too braced himself against the edge of the pool, giving a dirty grind and Fliss cried out loudly at the sensation.

“Fuck, right there…” she encouraged and Frank repeated the movement again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he was fighting the urge he was feeling to come.

“Liss, shit…” he gasped, his left hand dropping between her legs, coaxing her clit and after a few strong strokes Fliss arched her back, her head following as she let out a cry of his name as the world tilted on its axis, her orgasm rocking her to her very core. The feeling was too much for Frank and with a loud moan that rumbled from his chest he followed her right over the edge, his thrusts growing sloppy as he pumped through his own release before he stilled, his head bowing as he waited for the surge of ecstasy to dissipate.

Eventually the fog lifted enough so that he was able to bend his knees slightly, and with the arm that was curled around Fliss’ waist he turned them in the water. Fliss was near dead weight and went with him obligingly, his cock still buried in her as he pivoted and dropped down so that his back was against the wall of the pool and she sat on his lap, the water gently splashing around their shoulders.

Frank cradled her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he gave a low hum of satisfaction, her head falling back against his shoulder, a smile flickering across her lips.

“You know…” Frank mumbled after a little moment of silence “Cowgirls will always be my favourite, even in reverse.”

Fliss gave a soft chuckle as she opened her eyes and titled her head to look at him. “I prefer sailors…” she smirked and he laughed, pressing his lips to hers.

“You ok?” he asked, as her hands fell over his arms, fingers softly skating up his wet skin and she gave a nod.

“Never better.” She affirmed.

“Good.” He kissed her temple. “You wanna get out or…”

“No, I’m good here for a while.” She purred and he smiled, his mouth dropping to her shoulder where he pressed another kiss to her skin.

Eventually Fliss reluctantly conceded that they probably should get out as Alex would want feeding again any time soon. But, not wanting the moment to end, Frank suggested that whilst she showered he could do the feed and light the fire-pit. Fliss agreed and after wrapping herself in a towel she kissed him again and headed upstairs. Frank dried himself off, located his T-shirt and shrugged it on, leaving the towel round his waist as he warmed a bottle for his now grumbling son. By the time Fliss came back down stairs in her plaid sleep pants and tank, Alex was just finishing up. Frank passed him over, and they both headed back outside. Once the fire was lit Frank scooted off for a quick shower and returned 10 minutes later to find Alex settled once more in the basinet, tucked snuggly under his Christmas blanket that was decorated with little Santa’s and trees, his eyes roaming the starry sky.  Fliss sat with her legs under a tartan fleece on the outside sofa, the bottle of champagne stood in the middle of the table in an ice bucket and either side of it rested two full flutes. With a satisfied sigh Frank sat next to her, reaching for his drink and resting his feet on the table as Fliss snuggled under his arm. The pair of them clinked their glasses together, shared another soft kiss and settled into a soft chatter.

It was cosy, domestic, loving, and everything Fliss had ever dreamed of having, but never in a million years thinking she’d experience, and as they sat talking and laughing, speculating about Mary’s reaction the news of her adoption being tomorrow, she felt herself suddenly choked with emotion and she sat up, looking at her man.

“I think she’s gonna...” Frank trailed off, frowning at the look on Fliss’ face “Hey, honey what’s wrong?” “Absolutely nothing.” She muttered, clambering onto his lap so she was straddling him, jolting the glass he was holding a little and sending some of the Moet spilling onto the patio.

“You sure?” he titled his head to look at her and she nodded, sniffing back her tears as she kissed him, her hands running through his messy hair.

“I’m just so happy Frank, I can’t stop thinking about how much I lucked out.” She whispered as she pulled away and Frank smiled against her mouth.

“I think I’m the one that lucked out.” He whispered, his spare hand reaching up to smooth her hair back slightly.

“Maybe we can agree we’re both lucky bastards” she grinned and he chuckled, his eyes locking onto hers.

“I can live with that.” He agreed.

******

For the second day in a row Frank and Fliss woke with hangovers, as post the champagne they hit the bourbon and didn’t go to bed until 2 am. Now it was half 6 and Frank wasn’t impressed that he was going to have to deal with a hyper 9 year old who was currently bouncing on his bed, a 16 week old and his mother with a headache and only 4 and a half hours sleep.

After they sat and opened the gifts in their stocking, Frank telling Fliss to leave the thin, flat box until she was alone, they headed downstairs. Frank grinned at Fliss as Mary bust into the family room and glanced at the presents which were arranged in a pile by the sofa. The three of them exchanged their gifts, Fliss being especially delighted with her Spa Day voucher from Mary and Alex, which Frank informed her Simon had also gotten one for Bonnie so they could go together. Frank had also bought her a few new pairs of riding breeches, signed her up for a year’s subscription to Kindle Unlimited, a few more items of clothing, a 3 Pandora charms in the shape of the letters, F, M and A meaning she had one for them all and a stunning silver and diamond necklace and earring set from Tiffany’s which Fliss gasped at when she opened. In contrast Fliss had bought Frank a new phone from Alex and Mary to replace the one he’d smashed against the wall, a few T-shirts and then cryptically told him the biggest gift from her was yet to come.

“You’re not pregnant again are you?” he leaned over and asked her semi-seriously.

“Fuck, no!” she spluttered and he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “It’s just a little big…you’ll see.”

Before he could press her any further, Mary gave a loud shriek as she unwrapped the hooded top that was decorated the same as her Gillet and grinned, jamming it on over her pyjama top. Frank laughed as she did a parade in front of them before she paused, looking at the door to the little room off the kitchen. Frank had covered over the door frame in wrapping paper as it held her big present and Mary looked at it, before she turned to Frank and Fliss, frowning.

“What’s that?”

“Dunno.” Frank teased “Why don’t you go through and see?”

Mary looked at the pair of them again before she ran over, her reindeer slippers padding over the floor and she tore through the paper, pushing the door open.

Frank curled his arm round Fliss, kissed the side of her head as they followed her into the room where Mary was stood, gaping around.

As a surprise they’d turned it into a little sitting room of sorts for her. Over the last 4 weeks they had meticulously emptied it of the crap that had been in there since they’d moved in and they’d completely re-decorated it. Frank had painted a pale yellow on 3 of the walls, the 4th at the back was papered with a huge picture of Monty in the pasture. Her show rosettes were hung on a trellis which Frank had screwed to the wall with plenty of space for more and on the shelving unit which housed a large, flat screen Tv, Blu-ray player and Android box were positioned a few photos of various family shots. To finish the room off, 2 huge bean bags were placed in the middle of the room which were big enough for Fliss and Frank to lie in (they'd had a lot of fun trying them out) and there was a small desk in the corner along with an office chair. But it was the electronic keyboard nestled in the corner of the wall that held the TV that caught Mary’s eye.

As Fred sauntered in and hopped up on a bean bag as if he owned the place, Mary walked over to the keyboard running her hands along it before she turned to look at the two adults, her mouth hanging open.

“We thought you might like a place to hang out or chillax or whatever it is you kids do now...” Frank smiled “You know, instead of always needing to go to your room when Rosie or whoever comes over. You can study in here too as well.”

“And trust me you'll want your own space once this monster starts crawling.” Fliss smiled, readjusting Alex in her arms slightly.

“I love it…” Mary gasped, looking around her eyes brimming “My own special living room…and a sort of piano.”

“Well, you keep up your lessons with Nanny V and we might, and I mean might, get you a real one” Frank smiled and Mary beamed at him before she shot over to the pair of them. Frank picked her up with a groan and kissed her cheek.

“Rosie is gonna be well jel.” She giggled and Frank laughed as Mary leaned over to kiss Fliss’ cheek.

“There’s something in the desk for you too.” Frank took a deep breath, setting Mary down on the floor. As she walked over the room, Frank moved, his arm hooking round Fliss’ waist as they watched her open the lid of the desk and take out the envelope. With a frown she pulled it open and her eyes widened as she looked at the detail.

“Is this…” she started breathing deeply, her gaze shooting up to Frank’s, her eyes filling with tears “He…”

Frank nodded, his own eyes pricking with tears “Yeah, he signed the papers Stack.”

“So, I’m…I’m adopted?” she stuttered.

“Not quite but…” Frank sniffed, “It’s about as good as done, yeah. Greg got those yesterday.”

As Mary looked back down at the paper in her hand, Frank spotted a tear fall from her face and then he frowned as he saw her legs starting to shake. In a flash he was by her side, catching her as she dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the paper scrunching slightly in her hand as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and began to cry.

Frank pressed his face into her hair, trying desperately to keep his own tears from falling but failing miserably. Fliss was already gone, and she moved to walk towards them, dropping gently to her knees, Alex held safely in her arms.

“We’re gonna be a proper family.” Mary sobbed and Frank stuttered a laugh as he pulled back to look down at her.

“Mary, baby, we already were.” His voice cracked and she nodded against his neck, before she started to cry again. At that point Thor walked into the room and pushed his nose straight in between Mary and Frank, licking her face and letting out soft little whines.

Mary giggled and grabbed his fur gently “Thor, get off you doofus…”

“Is everything ok?” a voice made all of them look up to see Evelyn in the doorway, wrapped in a dressing gown and slippers. Frank, who had momentarily forgotten he’d text her to come join them, looked up through his tears and nodded. Fliss took the paper out of Mary’s hand and held it out to Evelyn. She gently gripped it, her eyebrows raised slightly, and then her hand flew to her mouth when she read the writing.

“Oh, that’s….that’s fantastic!” she sniffed, “Really…”

Mary, whose sobs had now subsided suddenly pulled back from Frank and looked at Fliss, “We need to give Frank his present!”

“Yup, we do!”

“Yeah, what…” Frank frowned “I’m kinda scared about this you know.” “Oh trust me, you’re gonna LOVE it!” Mary grinned, before she stood up straight.

“Why don’t you let me watch Alex whilst you head out?” Evelyn smiled and Fliss handed him over to his grandmother before the three of them headed to the hallway. Fliss fished the garage keys off the hooks by the door and tossed them to Frank who caught them in his right hand.

“You’re gonna need those” she smiled. Frank arched an eyebrow as he shoved on his sneakers but didn’t say anything as they headed out into the December sun, making their way over the drive.

“Is something gonna jump out at me?” he paused, the keys in the door.

“No.” Mary grinned. With one final, suspicious look at them he flung the up-and-over door open and stopped dead as he looked into the now full space of the double garage, his mouth hanging open.

In front of him was a fairly large boat. It had a covered lower deck area which housed the main engine and cockpit and a large, open flat stern area with benches. It was old, and in need of a fuck tonne of work but Frank was absolutely over the moon.

“Holy shit. You…you bought me a boat?” he turned to Fliss who grinned and nodded.

“I suppose technically I bought us a boat, but…” she shrugged as Frank moved over to examine it. He ran his hands over the hull, which was sound enough considering the state the rest of it was in and he turned to Fliss, his handsome face splitting into a huge smile.  

“It’s a wreck, I love it!” he beamed and Fliss grinned as he took her face in both hands and kissed her “Thank you baby.” “Well I thought about getting a newer one but I know you’ve always wanted to do your own up” she smiled as he pulled away “Plus, from a purely selfish point of view, I’m kinda looking forward to seeing you full of grease again.”

He grinned and arched an eyebrow before he kissed her again and Mary made a gagging noise. He turned to her, playfully swatting at her head and the 3 of them made their way back to the house, Frank casting a loving glance at his newest prized possession before he pulled the door down and locked it.

They exchanged gifts with Evelyn over breakfast, both Mary and Alex’s piles in the living room were significantly larger when they finished opening the bags full each and then following a breakfast of pancakes and bacon which was made whilst dancing around the kitchen to various Christmas songs, Fliss and Mary headed over to the yard to see to the horses and sneak a quick ride in before they needed to head over to Bill and Verity’s.

Fliss opted to shower first so she could get Alex ready and once she was alone she took her time to open the present Frank had told her to leave until later. As she pulled off the wrapping paper she smiled to herself as she saw the Victoria Secrets box and lifted the lid off, gently pulling back the pink tissue wrapping. Biting her lip she pulled out the sheer gold negligee, which was beautiful and rather classy as well, before she placed it back in the box and headed into the bathroom.

Just as she’d finished dressing Frank walked into their room, Alex in his arms and he smiled, pressing his lips to hers.

“I opened it…” Fliss smiled against his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm” she affirmed “I happen to think I suit gold.”

Frank smiled “I’m sure you do.”

She grinned and took Alex off him before she headed out of the room, Frank watching her go before he stripped off his clothing and headed into the bathroom.

20 minutes or so later, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a red and blue flannel button down, he wandered into the family room and stopped dead as he caught sight of Alex’s outfit.

“Lissy, what the fuck is my boy wearing?” Frank stared at the baby who was sat on Mary’s knee on the sofa, dressed in a green elf onesie. It had a black strip round the middle with a little yellow belt buckle detail, and the collar was red and ruffled. The legs were red and white hooped, just like tights, and on his head sat a red and green hat. As Frank stared at him in disbelief, Alex gazed up at his dad and let out a loud excited noise and waved his hands and legs.

“He looks cute, Frank.” Mary grinned, herself dressed in a white little blouse detailed with christmas patterns. Fliss walked over from the kitchen where she had been boxing up the sugar cookies she had made and grinned as Frank glared at her, pointing to Alex.

“He’s a fucking elf.” He deadpanned. “In tights.”

“Language.” Fliss slapped his arm lightly before she shrugged and gestured to her own Christmas sweater which depicted Santa stuck upside down in a chimney “It’s Christmas.” Frank shook his head. “He looks ridiculous.”

“Don’t be a scrooge.” Mary grinned and Frank shot her a glare, before he glanced at his son again, shaking his head. Alex seemed absolutely nonplussed at the fact his Mother had dressed him in the utterly stupid get up and Frank turned, shaking his head as Fliss smirked at him.

“Everyone is gonna laugh at him.” He pouted and Fliss snorted

“No they’re not!”

Frank knew he wasn’t going to win the argument, Fliss was as big a child as anyone when it came to Christmas, but he was damned if he was going to let his boy be the subject of ridicule without a fight. But whatever protest he had left died in his throat as at that point Evelyn walked back into the room, a few more gift bags in her hands for Fliss’ family and Roberta and let out a little chuckle.

“Oh my God, doesn’t he look adorable.” She clapped her hands and walked towards her grandson.

Fliss bit her lip, her shoulders shaking with laughter at the utter indignation on Frank’s face as he rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated growl as she slid her arms up round his neck. “Fine, just…whatever.” He sighed as she pulled his head down to hers, catching his lips in a soft peck. “Poor kid’s gonna grow up with a complex” he mumbled against her mouth “First the dinosaur outfit at Halloween, now this…”

“Well, so he doesn’t feel too bad, I got you a matching jumper.”

“Yeah Frank, you can put it on and then we can all take an elfie with your new phone, geddit?” Mary grinned and Fliss snorted. Frank pulled back and glared at Mary “Over my dead body.” “Can be arranged.” She retorted, and at that Fliss and Evelyn burst into laughter.

“Well that’s just mean.” Frank pouted and Fliss grinned, standing on her tiptoes.

“I’ll make it up to you later Sailor.” She whispered, her lips brushing his ear “I’ll let you decide if gold really is my colour for yourself…”

“Yeah?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hands dropping to her hips.

“If you wear the sweater…” “That’s…that’s blackmail.” He narrowed his eyes.

“I know.” She pulled back, turning to Mary and Evelyn. “Ok, shall we load the cars up? Mary you wanna ride with me or Frank?”

“Who’s goin’ to get Roberta?”

“Frank.” Fliss said “I’m taking Alex and Thor…and Fred.” She added as an after-thought. “Then I’ll go with him.” She nodded “That ok?”

“Sure.” Fliss smiled, her hand dropping to Mary’s head.

There was a sudden, excited bustle around the room as everyone moved to get their things together…and Frank went upstairs to change into his new elf sweater.

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 17-Let Me Take An Elfie…

Summary: Christmas arrives in the Adler household and its full of laughter, giggles, and one huge gift that money simply can’t buy…

Warnings:  Bad Language words, Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  So, like, I’m over 2020 and wish it was Christmas already. This chapter brings Riding On Part 1 to a close and I’ll be likely taking a little break from writing this to concentrate on some stuff I have going on Stark Spangled for the Birthday Party! I hope you enjoy!

This one is dedicated to The Evangers…you know who you are!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 16 Part 2

 Monday morning rolled round and for the first time in ages Frank woke well rested. After their plan had worked, he and Fliss had played the recording back to Greg who had been torn between calling them a pair of reckless dumbasses, and being elated with what it meant. Whilst he was unsure the court would permit it as evidence, he was going to have “some damned fun filing it anyway” and then set about giving them the final coaching for the Child Welfare Department interviews on Monday.

To Frank and Fliss, this was the final thing they could do. The last chance they had to get their feelings across and make a good impression before it was then over to the courts. And whilst Fliss was still hopeful that Polland would sign the papers as soon as he realised they had him on tape, Frank wasn’t quite as optimistic. So it was for that reason that over breakfast on the Monday he found himself rehearsing his speech to the Social Worker, just had he had done 2 years or so prior.

He needn’t have bothered though because, as Greg had predicted, the Social Workers discussion with him mainly centred on practical things such as Frank’s new job and his role, what Fliss did for a living, their new home and a little bit of digging into her background which was done sensitively and compassionately. It was the same Social Worker from 2 years back, a dark haired lady called Sarah Kellet, which Frnak was glad about, and she’d smiled when she’d run through things, checking all the facts that Greg had provided her before simply stating that was all she needed.

“What, no soul-searching questions?” Frank asked, arching an eyebrow. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Not this time.” she smiled “It’s a little different Mr Adler. You already have formal Guardianship over Mary so this isn’t about whether you’re suitable or not. This is really just a fact gathering exercise about whether or not formally providing you with Parental Status would be in her best interests.”

Frank swallowed and Fliss gently tangled her fingers in his as Sarah looked at them and smiled.

“Don’t worry.” She beamed. “When I spoke to Mary before it’s clear she’s exceptionally settled, and she adores her new brother as she refers to him as. You’ve created a very stable and loving environment for her, you’re financially credible, not that that’ the be all and end all, and you have a home, family support…all of this will be evidenced in my report.”

“So, do you make recommendations to the court?” Fliss asked and Sarah shook her head.

“Not as such, I’m merely here to pull together a factual, comprehensive report on how Mary is.” She tapped her pen slightly “And it’s always a little easier in cases like this when the minor has been in the care of the applicant prior to it. But, I will be making it quite clear in my conclusions that from the CWD point of view it would be in Mary’s best interests for the court to allow the adoption to go ahead, regardless of Mary’s father raising his objections. Basically if comes down to it, we’ll be fighting your corner.”

Fliss turned to Frank who let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and she smiled at him.

“So, that’s it.” Sarah shrugged. “I’ll send a copy of everything through to the courts and your attorney Mr Adler. All that’s left is for me to wish you both a Merry Christmas and I’ll see you at the hearing whenever that is.” They both rose, shaking her hand and then Frank held the door to the room open for Fliss. She stepped out in front of him, and turned to him smiling.

“That’s it.” She shrugged “We did everything we could.” “Yeah, yeah I know.” He nodded “I’m just relieved it’s all over. Well, for now anyway.”

“Yup, so let’s get on with enjoying Christmas.” Fliss beamed as they walked down the corridor to the little area at the bottom where Mary was waiting. She was sat, reading a book being supervised by another one of the social workers and looked up, smiling as they entered. The woman who’d be supervising left them alone after bidding them goodbye and the three of them walked out to the truck.

“Think your mom and dad will be ok with Alex for a little longer?” Frank asked as Mary bounced ahead of them slightly.

“Sure, why?”

“I thought we could take her for a pizza and bowling, just the 3 of us before we pick Evelyn up from the airport.” Frank said “Been a while since we went.” “Yeah, sounds good.” Fliss beamed “I’ll call mum and let her know.”

Of course Verity and Bill were only too happy to keep Alex. Sian and the twins had arrived earlier that morning and Verity told Fliss that Sian was enjoying Auntie cuddles whilst batting her eyes at Steve asking him if he fancied another. Steve’s response had been to choke on his coffee. They headed to the bowling alley, where Fliss and Mary found to their delight that the skittles were all painted like elves for the festive period. They had 3 games and as usual they whooped Frank’s ass, leaving him in a fake mood declaring Christmas was cancelled. No sooner had the words left his mouth, Mary had vaulted onto his back causing him to laugh and attempt to pull her off. Eventually he succeeded and dangled her upside down by her ankles, the girl shrieking as he swung her round before setting her down.

“She’s getting a bit big to do that with now!” he looked at Fliss, letting out a huff as Mary righted her sweater and climbed into the truck.

“Well, she is 10 in a couple of months.” Fliss smiled and Frank shook his head.

“Don’t remind me.”

Fliss chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat and the 3 of them headed off to the airport to collect Evelyn. They stood in the arrival lounge, Frank’s arm tossed over Fliss’ shoulders and Fliss could tell he was a little apprehensive. This was the first time he’d seen Evelyn since she had admitted outright she’d bribed Polland to give evidence. He’d told Fliss he wasn’t sure how he was going to react, that he didn’t want to be angry, but he couldn’t help it. Fliss had simply told him that they’d deal with whatever happened when it came.

As Evelyn walked through the glass double doors, pulling a huge case behind her, Mary shot forwards to greet her and the woman bent down, giving her a cuddle. Once more it struck Frank just how different it all was to the first meeting they’d had just over 2 years ago and as he watched his mother gently smooth Mary’s hair back any anger he was feeling simply dissipated. He knew only too well after the events of the last few years, he couldn’t change the past but he could make sure history never repeated itself. He watched as Mary and his mother made their way over to him and he took a deep breath as Evelyn glanced up at him, her face wrought with worried anticipation. She opened her mouth to say something, and Frank knew full well it was going to be an apology so he shook his head.

“It’s done.” He said simply “And I don’t wanna waste a single second more thinking about it, ok mom?”

Evelyn nodded, and then in a sudden display of affection she moved to embrace him. It was a little stiff but Frank didn’t shy away, wrapping his arms around his mother in a gentle hug before he pulled away and took her bag off her.

When they reached Bill and Verity’s neither Frank nor Fliss was surprised to find that Verity had laid a spread on. She loved entertaining and so had taken it upon herself to pull together a buffet consisting of a selection of cold meats, breads, crudités, dips and savoury snacks along with a huge plate of her infamous brownies. No sooner had Frank walked into the kitchen he had a beer thrust into his hand by Steve who winked at him and he turned to Fliss a little sheepishly with a shrug.

“I’ll drive home.” She rolled her eyes playfully as she gently turned Alex so that he was against her chest, head raised slightly as he looked around.

“Oh fuck that.” Evelyn said, taking the red wine that Bill handed her as Frank gave a snort at his mother’s language, not that it surprised him, she’d always been quite colourful that way despite her proper appearance and professional demeanour “We’ll get a cab. It’s Christmas.” “See, she gets it!” Steve nodded to Evelyn who simply shrugged and took a sip of her wine before she set it down on the kitchen counter.

“May I?” she asked Fliss, gesturing to Alex and Fliss smiled.

“Of course, here…” she passed him over and Evelyn looked at the baby who broke into a gummy smile.

“He gets more like you ever time I see him.” Evelyn whispered, looking at Frank who smiled.

“Yeah, so I’m told” he shrugged, attempting an air of nonchalance but as Fliss looked at him smirking he knew he had failed. He fucking loved the fact his boy looked like him, it massaged his ego and he didn’t care one iota about how smug it made him appear.

After Mary, Charlie and Joel had eaten, the three of them headed upstairs to the movie room, arms laden with snacks as Bill put The Santa Clause on the large screen and the adults all settled in the living room. Evelyn asked if she could feed Alex and Frank obliged, handing her the baby and the bottle. There was a little more chat before Verity cleared her throat and addressed the huge elephant in the room.

“So, how did it go with the social worker kids?”

Fliss and Frank exchanged a glance before Frank smiled “Good, really good. In fact, she said in her conclusion they’ll recommend the adoption is processed regardless of any objections but, we’ll see. For now we’ve done everything we can so it’s down to the court in the New Year.”

“Oh, that’s…that’s great, that’s really….great.” Bill said, nodding as his eyes misted over and Verity stood up, moving to give Fliss a cuddle as her eyes had filled at the sight of her father’s emotions. Frank could feel the tears stabbing at his eyes too so, under the guise of nipping to the bathroom he took a moment and headed through the kitchen and out of the bi-folding doors, stepping onto the veranda which overlooked the landscaped garden and pool area.

Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t been out there that long when he heard someone behind him. A tumbler of scotch was pushed into his hand and he looked up as Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Thought you might need that.” He said, as he set the bottle and his own glass down on the table, fishing in his pocket for his cigarettes. As he sparked it up he took a drag, blowing it out to the side taking care to remain hidden.

“Fucking 38 and still hiding the fact I smoke from my mum.” Steve snorted and Frank shook his head.

“Hate to break it to you Steeb but she knows.” He chuckled at the look on Steve’s face “She was complaining to Fliss about it the other day.” “No shit.” Steve muttered, “Oh, well, fuck it…”

Frank laughed again and took a sip of his drink before he asked Steve about the house he was purchasing just out east of Tampa. Steve explained the sale was going through now and they should be ready to move in towards the middle of January.

“Good.” Frank nodded “If you need a hand, moving and stuff, just holler. Lord knows you did enough for us, I’d be glad to help.” “Don’t worry you will be.” Steve smirked and Frank snorted.

“How’s Sian taking to the move? Fliss said she was a little apprehensive.” “Yeah, she was.” Steve shrugged “But she’s also excited. I mean of course she’s nervous to leave her family behind but she knows it’s too good an opportunity to pass up on, and it won’t be forever. Probably about 5 years or so and we’ll head back home.” “I wouldn’t bet on it.” Frank said, knocking back his scotch.

“Why’s that?” Steve asked, his voice coming out as a slight mumble as he held his cigarette between his lips so he could top Frank’s glass up again.

“Well-cheers-“ Frank nodded, taking the tumbler off him “-it’s like Fliss said, once this place gets it’s claws into you, you kinda grow to love it.”

Steve chuckled and dropped his now done dab end onto the floor under his foot before he bent down and retrieved it, slipping it into his pocket to dispose of later.

“So, Fliss told you that we got family coming out this New Year?” Steve asked.

“She mentioned one of her cousins…” Frank paused “Tabs was it?”

“Babs.” Steve corrected “We got 4, there’s Eva who’s married to a Police Officer called Ari, Jen who’s married to a lawyer called Andy and Amber who is married to Curtis…” “He the train mechanic?” Frank racked his memory and Steve nodded.

“Yeah, they all still live in Liverpool but Babs, the one that’s coming…she’s something else.” Steve snorted. “She lives in Australia with a photographer called Hugh. Well, I say photographer, he’s kind of a trust fund rich boy that plays at it, you know? Nice enough guy though, always happy to shout you on a night out.”

“So they making a special trip over or…” “They’re taking some kind of sabbatical, if you can take a sabbatical from doing fuck all.” Steve shrugged “6 month tour of the US starting here. She’s fucking great fun though. Her and Fliss are the same age and were thick as thieves growing up, used to get into all sorts of mischief.” He shook his head. “They once set fire to a bin on a park. By accident mind. They were pretending to smoke these hollow twig things stuffed with dried grass and when one set on fire Babs panicked and tossed it into the bin.” Frank snorted as Steve continued.

“The whole thing went up.” Steve chuckled “So they legged it and got followed home by an off duty copper. Dad and Uncle Ted went ballistic…

“Wait…your dad’s brother is called Ted?” Frank asked.

“Yeah, Bill and Ted.” Steve grinned. Frank looked at him, before the pair of them burst out laughing, and couldn’t stop. It wasn’t that funny, it really wasn’t, but the more Steve laughed, the more Frank did, and the more Frank laughed, the more Steve died. By the time Frank managed to control himself he had tears of pure mirth in his eyes and he wiped them as his laughter subsided and he managed to take a breath, clutching at his side.

“What you two laughing at?” Fliss asked, stepping outside.

“Your face.” Steve shot back.

“Twat.” Fliss narrowed her eyes at him and she turned to Frank who was still chuckling “And I don’t know what you find so funny…”

“Nothing at all baby.” He smirked, dropping a kiss to her head, “Nothing at all.” ******

There were sore heads in the Adler household the next day. They’d stayed at Bill and Verity’s till well past midnight, and had left Mary there as she’d passed out asleep with the twins in the movie room. After they’d managed to herd all the kids to bed, the adults had continued drinking and eventually called it a night when Bill had fallen asleep in his arm chair, dropping his glass of brandy all over the floor.

Fliss had stable duties that morning, and took off early even though she felt she was still half drunk and when she returned a few hours later Frank and Evelyn were sat at the breakfast bar, each nursing cups of coffee and looking half dead. Eventually they all managed to muster enough about themselves to shower, dress and head over to pick Mary up. Frank was low-key pleased to see Steve looked worse than he felt and after a quick coffee they set off into the little town to have a walk round the Christmas Stalls that had been set up before they grabbed a bite to eat and Evelyn started telling Fliss a few stories about Frank and Diane when they had been children at Christmas.

“I think my personal favourite will be the carol service when you were 6.” Evelyn looked at Frank and he groaned taking a sip of his soda as he leaned back in his chair “He has a lovely voice you know and that year he was selected to do a solo.” “We don’t need to hear this…” Frank started to protest but Fliss cut him off.

“Yes we do, go on Evelyn.”

“So his particular hymn was Hark, the Herald Angels Sing. And the line ‘God and sinners reconciled’ was proving a little tricky for him as he rehearsed.”

“I was 6.” Frank deadpanned.

“I’m well aware, it still doesn’t stop it being funny.” Evelyn grinned “So up he gets, sings out the song note and word perfect until he gets to this line and belts out ‘God and sinners dressed in style’”

Fliss snorted and Mary let out a howl of laughter.

“You’re such a loser” she looked at him

“Quit it or you’ll be getting no presents tomorrow morning.”

“Whatever”

“Hey, do you remember that year grandpa sent us nothing?” Frank suddenly had a recollection and he looked at Evelyn who let out a loud laugh.

“God yes, you and Diane were disgusted!”

“Oh, the last year before he died-“ Frank started to explain as Fliss looked at him blankly “-well, he was clearly feeling his age and found that shopping for Christmas gifts had become too difficult. So he decided to send checks to everyone instead. In each card he wrote, ‘Buy your own present!’ and mailed them early. Only when we opened them, there was no check…he’d forgotten to enclose them with the cards.”

“So you all literally got a card with ‘buy your own present’ written inside?” Fliss laughed and Frank chuckled

“Yeah, which to be fair dad thought was hilarious but…poor Grandpa was devastated. He tried to blame Santa, of course, but it didn’t wash.”

“That’s because Santa isn’t real.” Mary looked at him.

“Yes he is.” Fliss sighed “I’m not having this debate with you again.”

“You said yourself the other day that Frank was incapable of organising anything because he was a man so how could one dude organise gifts for the entire world?” Mary looked at her and Frank turned his head slowly to Fliss.

“Oh, you did, did you?”

Fliss hesitated, before she sighed “Come on, your organisational skills at home are ridiculous.”

“Do our bills get paid on time?”

“Yes, but-“

“Has Alex died yet?”

“No…” Fliss laughed.

“Then we’re good!” Frank shrugged, his hand gently dropping to his son’s tummy as he lay asleep in the stroller parked next to him “I find your lack of faith disturbing. And if we’re being sexist, I know Santa is a man as a woman wouldn’t be able to hack driving a sleigh around for a night, not to mention the complete mess she’d make trying to park it…”

“Wow!” Fliss looked at him as he laughed, “Ok, buddy, I bed I can think of 5 reasons why I would jump at the chance to be Santa.”

“Go on.” He teased and Fliss held up her hand, counting on her fingers as she spoke.

“One, I could grow to the size of Hawaii knowing it’s simply all part of the job. Two, I’d simply be able to buy one big, black belt, and brass buckle, and be accessorized for life. Three there would be no reason to have my hair colour done. Four, everyone would be extremely nice to me, regardless of my behaviour and five, if people commented that my belly jiggled when I laughed I could hit them with my purse.”

“Six…” Evelyn picked up as Frank laughed “You would always work in sensible footwear”

Frank shook his head “She always is anyway, not like you wear high heels to ride horses in and muck out stalls…”

“Those boots hurt when they’re not worn in.” Mary jabbed back “I know.”

With a snort Frank leaned back and looked down at Alex “Buddy, you better hurry up and start talking, I need someone here to even out the numbers.”

After another hour or so, when it was dark, they headed home and Evelyn bid them all a good night, heading to her guest suite above the garage to read and relax, declining their offer to join them for a drink stating she’d had quite enough the night before.

Mary wasn’t far behind, the excitement of the last few days having wiped her out, plus as she reminded Frank and Fliss, the sooner she went to bed the sooner it would be present time. She headed off for a bath before she settled down with her book upstairs and an hour or so later Frank went up to took her in, finding her fast asleep with Fred curled around her head.

It wasn’t even 8:30 pm and Fliss and Frank were all set for the evening. Presents wrapped, kids settled, and Frank had just moved to grab them a beer each when his phone sounded in his pocket.  He glanced at the shitty Nokia he was being forced to use after smashing his Samsung against the wall and frowned.

“It’s Greg.” He said before he answered. “Hey man.”

“S’up, listen, you guys free if I pop in for 5? I got a Christmas card for you and I forgot to drop it off earlier.”

“Yeah, sure.” Frank chuckled. “Just come on round the back, gate and the door are open.”

“No worries pal, see you in 15.”

“He coming over?” Fliss asked as Frank tossed the phone down on the side.

“Yeah, just for 5 minutes. Says he has a card for us.” “A card?”

“Yeah, you know what Zara’s like. He’s probably had it for weeks and forgotten about it.” Franks shrugged, passing Fliss an open beer as they both crossed to the sofa. They settled down to watch the Christmas special of Brooklyn 99 and true to his word, Greg walked in 15 minutes or so later.

“Hey Greg, you want a beer?” Frank stood up, gesturing to the kitchen area.

“No I can’t stay, I just wanted to give you this before tomorrow.”

Frank paused and took the envelope off him. “This isn’t a card?” he frowned.

“No, it’s a little better than that.” Greg beamed as Fliss rose to her feet, crossing to where Frank was stood. With a frown, Frank turned the envelope over, opened it and as his eyes scanned the piece of paper he felt his mouth grow dry and his heart suddenly pounded so hard he felt it was going to thump right out of his chest.

“He signed the papers…” Frank whispered, swallowing as he looked at the document in his hands. “Lissy, Polland…he signed the adoption papers.”

“What?” Fliss breathed out as she took it from him, her eyes roving the wording before she looked at Frank, then Greg. “I- when?”

“I had a call earlier this afternoon saying they were dropping the objection.” Greg smiled. “Seems he suddenly had a change of heart when his Attorney told him he was on tape confessing to taking a bung and attempting to blackmail Fliss. I won’t tell you what he called him, it was a 4 letter word and ended in t…pretty sure you can fill in the gaps.” He nodded to the paper in Fliss hand “I asked him to hurry that through and it arrived about half an hour before I called. I wanted to give it to you in person.”

“So…we don’t need to go to court?” Frank breathed out, his eyes brimming with tears.

Greg shook his head “There’ll be a finalisation hearing in January but coupled with that and the CWD report it’s gonna simply be a formality. It’s as good as done.” “So, we’re…” Fliss took a deep breath “We’re gonna be her parents?”

Greg nodded. “Yup.”

Frank was struggling for words as he looked at his best friend before he pulled him into a huge bro hug. He stepped back, wiping his eyes as Fliss moved forward to hug Greg too, before they both walked him to his car.

“I owe you, big time.” Frank croaked and Greg waved him away as he opened the door to his Merc.

“I told you it would work out.” He shrugged, smiling broadly. “Merry Christmas guys.”

The two of them waved him off before Fliss turned to Frank, her tears falling down her cheeks “I can’t believe it…” “Me neither.” Frank spluttered and Fliss leaped into his arms, the pair of them laughing in sheer joy. Even thought they’d thrown themselves into the holiday spirit, neither of them had been able to shake that little feeling that a small, dark cloud was still following them. And now that was gone.

It was over. All over. And they’d won.

They headed back inside, both resisting the urge to wake Mary to tell her, deciding they’d leave it for the morning, but they absolutely did decide to crack a bottle of champagne open.

And then Frank had an even better idea, one that came to him on a whim as they walked back through their garden. Silently he disappeared into the little laundry room at the side of the kitchen and when he emerged, Fliss had her back to him so she didn’t see him deposit the 2 pool towels on the breakfast bar. He moved to where she reaching for two champagne flutes, and as she stood on her tiptoes, he wrapped his arms around her from behind causing her to jump a little.

“I can’t believe it.” Fliss whispered “I mean I hoped he’d back down but…”

“I know” Frank kissed her neck tenderly “Another huge Christmas Eve huh? Second one in a row?”

Yeah.” She sighed happily, her hands falling on top of his arms, rubbing gently. “You know last year I was so nervous when I found out I was pregnant.”

“So was I, and that was before you told me that bit of news.” He smiled, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I’d been trying to propose for ages. I was shitting my pants it was gonna go wrong or you’d turn me down.”

“Not a chance Sailor.” She turned her head to look at him. “You’re stuck with me.” He pressed a kiss to her lips and the pair of them stood in silence in their kitchen, lost in their own thoughts, simply looking out of the window over their garden which was illuminated softly by the lighting round the pool area. Eventually Frank remembered his original plan and he smiled to himself.

“So all the presents are wrapped, everyone’s in bed waiting for the big guy with the sack to arrive…” Frank muttered, his lips grazing her neck “The pool heaters have been on all day…what about a Christmas Eve dip?”

Fliss turned in his arms, arching an eyebrow “Would you merely be trying to get me naked Francis?”

“Yes.” He nodded and she giggled.

“Skinny dipping? On Christmas Eve?”

“You lost your sense of adventure Cowgirl?” he teased.

Fliss peered round him to where Alex was sleeping in the basinet and with a grin pulled back and whipped off her T-shirt. “Does that answer your question?”

Frank laughed and caught the top as she threw it at him, tossing it to the side as he grabbed the towels. By the time he caught up with her outside Fliss was on the edge of the pool in nothing but her baby-blue cotton panties and his eyes scanned up her legs and the rest of her body until they locked onto hers. She bit her lip as she stepped out of her underwear and Frank felt his cock twitch as she turned and coyly shot him a look over her shoulder before she descended down the mosaic tiled steps at the shallow end of the pool.  

Not wanting to waste a second more he threw the towels down on one of the sun loungers and reached over his head, grabbing a fistful of his grey t-shirt. He pulled it off before be quickly undid his belt and in one swoop yanked down his loose jeans and boxers.

Fliss dropped off the bottom step, her shoulders dipping under the warm water as she turned to watch Frank following her in, her eyes trailing up from his knees over his thighs, semi-erect cock which stood beneath that happy trail that led down his slim, flat yet ever so slightly soft stomach and up to his broad shoulders and strong arms. Her eyes moved to his handsome face, the stubble on his jaw line always gave him a more rugged look and his short hair was spiked up messily as it usually was at the end of the day.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

And not just on the outside. Even before the events of the last few weeks Fliss knew her man was the most caring, wonderful and doting father and lover on the planet but since the issue with Polland had raised its head she'd seen a side to him that she had only ever caught glimpses of before. A softer, vulnerable side and it filled her heart with even more love for him for reasons she couldn't explain other than it just did. He wasn't afraid to show weakness to her, he wasn't ashamed to tell her his fears. Because they were a true partnership. And as she watched him crouch down so his body was submerged in the water, his eyes sparkling in the lights, she felt an unnerving spike of desire that was so strong it surged right from her toes up her body, leaving her slightly fuzzy headed, like she was drunk on love. 

Frank cocked his head playfully to the side as Fliss gracefully pushed off the ball of her foot and swam towards him before she twisted in the water slightly and brought her legs out in front of her. She wrapped them round his waist, settling herself on his lap as his large hands gently splayed on her back. Fliss nuzzled her nose against his chin, nudging his head back so she could chain soft kisses across his jaw line, her lips skating the bristles on his face as she gently nipped at his skin. Frank let out a soft sigh, his hands pulling her closer as she moved her affections down his neck, over his Adam’s apple before she gently sucked at the junction of his shoulder and neck, grinding down on him, her bare core slicking over his cock.

"Fuck, Liss..." he stuttered, pulling back to look at her, the water sloshing around them "What's got into you, huh?"

"Nothing yet." She purred back.

Frank looked at her, but before he could make a smart reply she’d dropped her hand from his shoulder into the pool and wrapped her palm around him making him choke on his words slightly as she stroked him with a few quick flicks of her wrist.

“Jesus, baby…” he managed to croak as her eyes locked onto his and a smirk curled on her lips. She leaned forwards, her teeth nipping at his ear and he gave a soft groan, his head falling back slightly as she continued to work him, her hand pumping up and down his now rock hard dick. And then she stopped, and he felt her mouth curve open and her breath was hot on his skin as she whispered 3 words that sent red hot fire coursing through his entire body.

“Fuck me, Sailor.”

He didn’t need asking twice. 

Fliss moved herself, guiding him to where she wanted and she sank down onto his length, his hands grabbing her hips as she took him in completely, a low, drawn out gasp escaping her lips as Frank hissed slightly as her walls clamped around him. He gave himself a moment, enjoying the feel of her before he thrust upwards, his fingers curling around her soft flesh as he drew back slowly, before pushing back into her deeply, rotating his hips. Fliss’ hands curled around his shoulders, her head tipping back, eyes closed in pleasure, the action causing her breasts to rise out of the water. Keeping his rhythm slow and deep he dipped his head, his tongue tracing a stripe down her cleavage, the salty tang of the pool water hitting his taste buds as he directed his attention to her nipple, flicking and sucking softly, all the time listening and feeling her reactions as she pushed down further against him, desperate for more. For whatever reason, Fliss was in a downright filthy mood and Frank had a feeling that slow and steady wasn’t going to be enough. He moved his mouth, nipping up her neck before his lips pressed onto hers, the kiss filthy as his tongue fucked her mouth and he pulled back as he began to back himself up to the side of the pool.

With a quick movement he turned so Fliss’s back was against the tiled edge, and he looked at her as she stared at him, her deep brown eyes wide with lust as he dipped his head to kiss her again.

“Turn around.” He instructed, his voice low and Fliss complied, moving off him and spinning in the water. One large hand slid up her spine to her neck and his fingers gently curled around her nape as he pushed her forwards slightly, before he slid both his hands up her arms and directed her hands to grip at the lip of the pool.

Fliss’ body was tingling with anticipation. Her palms gripped round the rough surface of the pool edge as she surrendered to Frank’s control, his chest pressing against her back, lips sucking at her neck.

“If this is too much, tell me…” he whispered against her skin. Fliss tilted her face round to look at him, seeing those ocean blues she loved shining with love and what looked like a slight glimmer of concern. And she knew why. Whilst their sex was hot, passionate, loving, it was very rarely rough because he didn’t want to push her too far knowing her past. But she wanted this, she needed it. She smiled at him, pressing her lips to his.

“I trust you.” She promised him gently and Frank kissed her again before he pulled away. His hands gripped her hips, lifting her ass up so her feet planted on the floor of the pool as he rose to his, the water lapping around his thighs as he buried himself into her with one swift movement. He pulled out slowly before he thrust back, bottoming out as she gasped, her head tilting backwards as he continued rocking his hips back and forth, slowly at first, his movements gathering pace until he built up into a fast, relentless rhythm, every drive into her jolting her forwards slightly as she braced herself against the edge with her arms, elbows locked to absorb the shock. Pants, whimpers, soft cries and the debauched sound of sloshing and skin slapping skin filled the otherwise silent night air of the garden and Frank dropped his eyes to the point where he was pounding in and out of his girl, the sight of where they were joined was hot as fuck and he let out a groan as he watched for a second, before his eyes flicked back up to Fliss. Her head was dropped between her arms, slightly twisted to the right and he could see her eyes were closed, jaw slack, full lips open in a silent cry.

As he continued his powerful, fast thrusts, his cock brushed occasionally against that spot inside and Fliss felt the coil in her belly beginning to tighten slowly, each time he hit it. Frank adjusted his stance and bent over, his right hand falling over hers as he too braced himself against the edge of the pool, giving a dirty grind and Fliss cried out loudly at the sensation.

“Fuck, right there…” she encouraged and Frank repeated the movement again, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he was fighting the urge he was feeling to cum.

“Liss, shit...” He gasped, his left hand dropping between her legs, coaxing her clit and after a few strong strokes Fliss arched her back, her head following as she let out a cry of his name as the world tilted on its axis, her orgasm rocking her to her very core. The feeling was too much for Frank and with a loud moan that rumbled from his chest he followed her right over the edge, his thrusts growing sloppy as he pumped through his own release before he stilled, his head bowing as he waited for the surge of ecstasy to dissipate.

Eventually the fog lifted enough so that he was able to bend his knees slightly, and with the arm that was curled around Fliss’ waist he turned them in the water. Fliss was near dead weight and went with him obligingly, his cock still buried in her as he pivoted and dropped down so that his back was against the wall of the pool and she sat on his lap, the water gently splashing around their shoulders.

Frank cradled her close, pressing a kiss to her neck as he gave a low hum of satisfaction, her head falling back against his shoulder, a smile flickering across her lips.

“You know…” Frank mumbled after a little moment of silence “Cowgirls will always be my favourite, even in reverse.”

Fliss gave a soft chuckle as she opened her eyes and titled her head to look at him. “I prefer sailors…” she smirked and he laughed, pressing his lips to hers.

“You ok?” he asked, as her hands fell over his arms, fingers softly skating up his wet skin and she gave a nod.

“Never better.” She affirmed.

“Good.” He kissed her temple. “You wanna get out or…”

“No, I’m good here for a while.” She purred and he smiled, his mouth dropping to her shoulder where he pressed another kiss to her skin.

Eventually Fliss reluctantly conceded that they probably should get out as Alex would want feeding again any time soon. But, not wanting the moment to end, Frank suggested that whilst she showered he could do the feed and light the fire-pit. Fliss agreed and after wrapping herself in a towel she kissed him again and headed upstairs. Frank dried himself off, located his T-shirt and shrugged it on, leaving the towel round his waist as he warmed a bottle for his now grumbling son. By the time Fliss came back down stairs in her plaid sleep pants and tank, Alex was just finishing up. Frank passed him over, and they both headed back outside. Once the fire was lit Frank scooted off for a quick shower and returned 10 minutes later to find Alex settled once more in the basinet, tucked snuggly under his Christmas blanket that was decorated with little Santa’s and trees, his eyes roaming the starry sky.  Fliss sat with her legs under a tartan fleece on the outside sofa, the bottle of champagne stood in the middle of the table in an ice bucket and either side of it rested two full flutes. With a satisfied sigh Frank sat next to her, reaching for his drink and resting his feet on the table as Fliss snuggled under his arm. The pair of them clinked their glasses together, shared another soft kiss and settled into a soft chatter.

It was cosy, domestic, loving, and everything Fliss had ever dreamed of having, but never in a million years thinking she’d experience, and as they sat talking and laughing, speculating about Mary’s reaction to the news of her adoption being tomorrow, she felt herself suddenly choked with emotion and she sat up, looking at her man.

“I think she’s gonna...” Frank trailed off, frowning at the look on Fliss’ face “Hey, honey what’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing.” She muttered, clambering onto his lap so she was straddling him, jolting the glass he was holding a little and sending some of the Moet spilling onto the patio.

“You sure?” he titled his head to look at her and she nodded, sniffing back her tears as she kissed him, her hands running through his messy hair.

“I’m just so happy Frank, I can’t stop thinking about how much I lucked out.” She whispered as she pulled away and Frank smiled against her mouth.

“I think I’m the one that lucked out.” He whispered, his spare hand reaching up to smooth her hair back slightly.

“Maybe we can agree we’re both lucky bastards” she grinned and he chuckled, his eyes locking onto hers.

“I can live with that.” He agreed.

******

For the second day in a row Frank and Fliss woke with hangovers, as post the champagne they hit the bourbon and didn’t go to bed until 2 am. Now it was half 6 and Frank wasn’t impressed that he was going to have to deal with a hyper 9 year old who was currently bouncing on his bed, a 16 week old and his mother with a headache and only 4 and a half hours sleep.

After they sat and opened the gifts in their stocking, Frank telling Fliss to leave the thin, flat box until she was alone, they headed downstairs. Frank grinned at Fliss as Mary bust into the family room and glanced at the presents which were arranged in a pile by the sofa. The three of them exchanged their gifts, Fliss being especially delighted with her Spa Day voucher from Mary and Alex, which Frank informed her Simon had also gotten one for Bonnie so they could go together. Frank had also bought her a few new pairs of riding breeches, signed her up for a year’s subscription to Kindle Unlimited, a few more items of clothing, a 3 Pandora charms in the shape of the letters, F, M and A meaning she had one for them all and a stunning silver and diamond necklace and earring set from Tiffany’s which Fliss gasped at when she opened. In contrast Fliss had bought Frank a new phone from Alex and Mary to replace the one he’d smashed against the wall, a few T-shirts and then cryptically told him the biggest gift from her was yet to come.

“You’re not pregnant again are you?” he leaned over and asked her semi-seriously.

“Fuck, no!” she spluttered and he let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “It’s just a little big…you’ll see.”

Before he could press her any further, Mary gave a loud shriek as she unwrapped the hooded top that was decorated the same as her Gillet and grinned, jamming it on over her pyjama top. Frank laughed as she did a parade in front of them before she paused, looking at the door to the little room off the kitchen. Frank had covered over the door frame in wrapping paper as it held her big present and Mary looked at it, before she turned to Frank and Fliss, frowning.

“What’s that?”

“Dunno.” Frank teased “Why don’t you go through and see?”

Mary looked at the pair of them again before she ran over, her reindeer slippers padding over the floor and she tore through the paper, pushing the door open.

Frank curled his arm round Fliss, kissed the side of her head as they followed her into the room where Mary was stood, gaping around.

As a surprise they’d turned it into a little sitting room of sorts for her. Over the last 4 weeks they had meticulously emptied it of the crap that had been in there since they’d moved in and they’d completely re-decorated it. Frank had painted a pale yellow on 3 of the walls, the 4th at the back was papered with a huge picture of Monty in the pasture. Her show rosettes were hung on a trellis which Frank had screwed to the wall with plenty of space for more and on the shelving unit which housed a large, flat screen Tv, Blu-ray player and Android box were positioned a few photos of various family shots. To finish the room off, 2 huge bean bags were placed in the middle of the room which were big enough for Fliss and Frank to lie in (they'd had a lot of fun trying them out) and there was a small desk in the corner along with an office chair. But it was the electronic keyboard nestled in the corner of the wall that held the TV that caught Mary’s eye.

As Fred sauntered in and hopped up on a bean bag as if he owned the place, Mary walked over to the keyboard running her hands along it before she turned to look at the two adults, her mouth hanging open.

“We thought you might like a place to hang out or chillax or whatever it is you kids do now...” Frank smiled “You know, instead of always needing to go to your room when Rosie or whoever comes over. You can study in here too as well.”

“And trust me you'll want your own space once this monster starts crawling.” Fliss smiled, readjusting Alex in her arms slightly.

“I love it…” Mary gasped, looking around her eyes brimming “My own special living room…and a sort of piano.”

“Well, you keep up your lessons with Nanny V and we might, and I mean might, get you a real one” Frank smiled and Mary beamed at him before she shot over to the pair of them. Frank picked her up with a groan and kissed her cheek.

“Rosie is gonna be well jel.” She giggled and Frank laughed as Mary leaned over to kiss Fliss’ cheek.

“There’s something in the desk for you too.” Frank took a deep breath, setting Mary down on the floor. As she walked over the room, Frank moved, his arm hooking round Fliss’ waist as they watched her open the lid of the desk and take out the envelope. With a frown she pulled it open and her eyes widened as she looked at the detail.

“Is this…” she started breathing deeply, her gaze shooting up to Frank’s, her eyes filling with tears “He…”

Frank nodded, his own eyes pricking with tears “Yeah, he signed the papers Stack.”

“So, I’m…I’m adopted?” she stuttered.

“Not quite but…” Frank sniffed, “It’s about as good as done, yeah. Greg got those yesterday.”

As Mary looked back down at the paper in her hand, Frank spotted a tear fall from her face and then he frowned as he saw her legs starting to shake. In a flash he was by her side, catching her as she dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the paper scrunching slightly in her hand as she buried her face into the crook of his neck and began to cry.

Frank pressed his face into her hair, trying desperately to keep his own tears from falling but failing miserably. Fliss was already gone, and she moved to walk towards them, dropping gently to her knees, Alex held safely in her arms.

“We’re gonna be a proper family.” Mary sobbed and Frank stuttered a laugh as he pulled back to look down at her.

“Mary, sweetheart, we already were.” His voice cracked and she nodded against his neck, before she started to cry again. At that point Thor walked into the room and pushed his nose straight in between Mary and Frank, licking her face and letting out soft little whines.

Mary giggled and grabbed his fur gently “Thor, get off you doofus…”

“Is everything ok?” a voice made all of them look up to see Evelyn in the doorway, wrapped in a dressing gown and slippers. Frank, who had momentarily forgotten he’d text her to come join them, looked up through his tears and nodded. Fliss took the paper out of Mary’s hand and held it out to Evelyn. She gently gripped it, her eyebrows raised slightly, and then her hand flew to her mouth when she read the writing.

“Oh, that’s….that’s fantastic!” she sniffed, “Really…”

Mary, whose sobs had now subsided suddenly pulled back from Frank and looked at Fliss, “We need to give Frank his present!”

“Yup, we do!”

“Yeah, what…” Frank frowned “I’m kinda scared about this you know.” “Oh trust me, you’re gonna LOVE it!” Mary grinned, before she stood up straight.

“Why don’t you let me watch Alex whilst you head out?” Evelyn smiled and Fliss handed him over to his grandmother before the three of them headed to the hallway. Fliss fished the garage keys off the hooks by the door and tossed them to Frank who caught them in his right hand.

“You’re gonna need those” she smiled. Frank arched an eyebrow as he shoved on his sneakers but didn’t say anything as they headed out into the December sun, making their way over the drive.

“Is something gonna jump out at me?” he paused, the keys in the door.

“No.” Mary grinned. With one final, suspicious look at them he flung the up-and-over door open and stopped dead as he looked into the now full space of the double garage, his mouth hanging open.

In front of him was a fairly large boat. It had a covered lower deck area which housed the main engine and cockpit and a large, open flat stern area with benches. It was old, and in need of a fuck tonne of work but Frank was absolutely over the moon.

“Holy…you…you bought me a boat?” he turned to Fliss who grinned and nodded.

“I suppose technically I bought us a boat, but…” she shrugged as Frank moved over to examine it. He ran his hands over the hull, which was sound enough considering the state the rest of it was in and he turned to Fliss, his handsome face splitting into a huge smile.  

“It’s a wreck, I love it!” he beamed and Fliss grinned as he took her face in both hands and kissed her “Thank you baby.” “Well I thought about getting a newer one but I know you’ve always wanted to do your own up” she smiled as he pulled away “Plus, from a purely selfish point of view, I’m kinda looking forward to seeing you full of grease again.”

He grinned and arched an eyebrow before he kissed her again and Mary made a gagging noise. He turned to her, playfully swatting at her head and the 3 of them made their way back to the house, Frank casting a loving glance at his newest prized possession before he pulled the door down and locked it.

They exchanged gifts with Evelyn over breakfast, both Mary and Alex’s piles in the living room were significantly larger when they finished opening the bags full each and then following a breakfast of pancakes and bacon which was made whilst dancing around the kitchen to various Christmas songs, Fliss and Mary headed over to the yard to see to the horses and sneak a quick ride in before they needed to head over to Bill and Verity’s.

Fliss opted to shower first so she could get Alex ready and once she was alone she took her time to open the present Frank had told her to leave until later. As she pulled off the wrapping paper she smiled to herself as she saw the Victoria Secrets box and lifted the lid off, gently pulling back the pink tissue wrapping. Biting her lip she pulled out the sheer gold negligee, which was beautiful and rather classy as well, before she placed it back in the box and headed into the bathroom.

Just as she’d finished dressing Frank walked into their room, Alex in his arms and he smiled, pressing his lips to hers.

“I opened it…” Fliss smiled against his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm” she affirmed “I happen to think I suit gold.”

Frank smiled “I’m sure you do.”

She grinned and took Alex off him before she headed out of the room, Frank watching her go before he stripped off his clothing and headed into the bathroom.

20 minutes or so later, dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a red and blue flannel button down, Frank wandered into the family room and stopped dead as he caught sight of Alex’s outfit.

“Lissy, what the fuck is my boy wearing?” Frank stared at the baby who was sat on Mary’s knee on the sofa, dressed in a green elf onesie. It had a black strip round the middle with a little yellow belt buckle detail, and the collar was red and ruffled. The legs were red and white hooped, just like tights, and on his head sat a red and green hat. As Frank stared at him in disbelief, Alex gazed up at his dad and let out a loud excited noise and waved his hands and legs.

“He looks cute, Frank.” Mary grinned, herself dressed in a white little blouse detailed with christmas patterns. Fliss walked over from the kitchen where she had been boxing up the sugar cookies she had made and grinned as Frank glared at her, pointing to Alex.

“He’s a fucking elf.” He deadpanned. “In tights.”

“Language.” Fliss slapped his arm lightly before she shrugged and gestured to her own Christmas sweater which depicted Santa stuck upside down in a chimney “It’s Christmas.” Frank shook his head. “He looks ridiculous.”

“Don’t be a scrooge.” Mary grinned and Frank shot her a glare, before he glanced at his son again, shaking his head. Alex seemed absolutely nonplussed at the fact his Mother had dressed him in the utterly stupid get up and Frank turned, shaking his head as Fliss smirked at him.

“Everyone is gonna laugh at him.” He pouted and Fliss snorted

“No they’re not!”

Frank knew he wasn’t going to win the argument, Fliss was as big a child as anyone when it came to Christmas, but he was damned if he was going to let his boy be the subject of ridicule without a fight. But whatever protest he had left died in his throat as at that point Evelyn walked back into the room, a few more gift bags in her hands for Fliss’ family and Roberta and let out a little chuckle.

“Oh my God, doesn’t he look adorable.” She clapped her hands and walked towards her grandson.

Fliss bit her lip, her shoulders shaking with laughter at the utter indignation on Frank’s face as he rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated growl as she slid her arms up round his neck. 

“Fine, just…whatever.” He sighed as she pulled his head down to hers, catching his lips in a soft peck. “Poor kid’s gonna grow up with a complex” he mumbled against her mouth “First the dinosaur outfit at Halloween, now this…”

“Well, so he doesn’t feel too bad, I got you a matching jumper.”

“Yeah Frank, you can put it on and then we can all take an elfie with your new phone, geddit?” Mary grinned and Fliss snorted. Frank pulled back and glared at Mary “Over my dead body.” “Can be arranged.” She retorted, and at that Fliss and Evelyn burst into laughter.

“Well that’s just mean.” Frank pouted and Fliss grinned, standing on her tiptoes.

“I’ll make it up to you later Sailor.” She whispered, her lips brushing his ear “I’ll let you decide if gold really is my colour for yourself…”

“Yeah?” he asked, arching an eyebrow, his hands dropping to her hips.

“If you wear the sweater…” “That’s…that’s blackmail.” He narrowed his eyes.

“I know.” She pulled back, turning to Mary and Evelyn. “Ok, shall we load the cars up? Mary you wanna ride with me or Frank?”

“Who’s goin’ to get Roberta?”

“Frank.” Fliss said “I’m taking Alex and Thor…and Fred.” She added as an after-thought. “Then I’ll go with him.” She nodded “That ok?”

“Sure.” Fliss smiled, her hand dropping to Mary’s head.

There was a sudden, excited bustle around the room as everyone moved to get their things together…and Frank went upstairs to change into his new elf sweater.

***** Chapter 18

[let-it-raines]

another kind of green (5/10)

Emma Swan spends her days in pretty white dresses and heavy layers of makeup. Day after day and dress after dress, she poses for pictures and acts like she’s in love and having the happiest day of her life with the man standing next to her.

It’s not. This is all a gig, and at the end of the day, she’s no longer the girl in the pretty dress who’s faking getting married for a magazine cover or a wedding convention. Instead, she’s the girl who probably never wants to get married.

Little does she know, she already is.

Rating: Mature

a/n: I hope everyone is having a good weekend! 💚

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2| 3 | 4 | 5 |

-/-

Emma filed for an annulment of her accidental drunken marriage yesterday.

She also took a pregnancy test.

Neither of those things were exactly in her life plan. Or whatever hypothetical life plan she’s supposed to have.

Luckily, that test (and the three she took after it because she does not trust those things) all came back negative because if getting accidentally hitched isn’t bad enough, getting accidentally knocked up would be even worse. That’s significantly more permanent and time consuming than marrying someone she doesn’t have to see every day, and she’d pass out from stress if she was actually pregnant.

And the extra-large margarita she had two days ago would have been a pretty big mistake.

(It was already a pretty big mistake when it made her a sloppy kind of intoxicated that had her telling Killian Jones that she liked the smell of his hair.)

(Ruby and Mulan have not stopped making fun of her for that.)

(Killian Jones, Emma Swan, and alcohol are obviously not a good combination.)

But she’s not pregnant, started her period today actually, and after going downtown to the family clerk’s office and having the nicest clerk in existence help Emma fill out the request for annulment papers, she’s officially got that off of her to-do list, which had quite possibly been the biggest weight off of her shoulder in years. Walking inside of the courthouse hadn’t been the best time, giving her flashbacks to being seventeen and having to go to trial (and jail) over those damn stolen watches that Neal set her up for, but at least she didn’t have to have a lawyer.

She stressed over that way too much, but it’s all in the past now. She’s got to keep that stress there.

Fucking Neal. He’s the scum of the earth, and that doesn’t even describe him. She wants to – no, she can’t. she can’t go there.

Positives. She has to focus on the positives, and not all of the memories she’s been tormented with over the past few days. There have been flashbacks of spending her days in a small cell and marking down the days until she could get out, her eighteenth birthday passing by her without her truly realizing it because she’d missed a few days on her chart. The flashbacks of the pregnancy test are the worst, however. The test she’d taken in jail was cheap, something not entirely reliable, and for a brief moment, Emma thought she was pregnant.

For an even briefer moment, she was happy about it because it meant she still had a connection with Neal. How messed up was she that she still wanted to be connected to the man that betrayed her trust and her heart? Why would anyone sane want that?

Why would anyone want to be connected to the man who ruined their life?

Because she loved him, let him tell her that things in her life were going to turn out right, and listening to him was her first mistake.

Emma wasn’t pregnant then and isn’t pregnant now, and she’s thankful for both negative tests even if things would have been different this time. It wouldn’t have been great, but at least she wouldn’t be a teenager in jail scared shitless over how the hell she’s going to do anything with her life because no one she cares about seems to stay. She’s got people now. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. That’s all that matters to her.

She’s got to stop focusing on those awful memories that make her stomach churn and nausea bubble up, and she needs to focus on something productive.

Like serving Killian Jones with his annulment papers.

The clerk has given her options to do that, including paying a courier to do it, but that had cost money and she figured it would be just as easy to give it over to them himself and ask for his half of the two hundred bucks she had to shell out for this. She meant to text him yesterday morning to arrange a time, but the whole pregnancy test thing threw her off. There was no way in hell she was going to talk to him after all of that. Today, however, she’s going to get her shit done and get this whole thing over with.

Emma Swan: Can you meet today?

The little bubbles pop up two seconds later.

Killian Jones: I’m booked all day today. Tomorrow?

Emma Swan: I’m booked all day tomorrow.

Killian Jones: Saturday then?

Emma Swan: I can do Saturday. What time?

Killian Jones: My place? Around noon?

Emma Swan: Send me your address.

She realizes that she never tells him why she wants to meet, but he probably knows. Despite them spending the entire evening together Monday night, they’re not casual friends who meet up to get something to eat or go to a concert together. They’re…acquaintances. She’s got no clue, isn’t really interested in defining it, and she’ll leave it at that. Their “whatever” is short term and will be ending soon anyways. There’s no need to get any kind of attached.

Her phone starts ringing, a picture of she and David from last year’s Christmas popping up, and she slides the bar across the screen to answer the phone.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” David sighs, “this is your daily reminder that you have to file your annulment papers.”

“It’s really a shame that you and Marg haven’t procreated yet because you’re such a dad.”

“How could I have a baby when I’m too worried about you? So I think we’ll keep using condoms for now.”

“Oh my God,” Emma grumbles, getting up from her bed and walking the few feet to her kitchen, which is really more of a kitchenette that can barely fit food than anything. She needs to get a bigger place, but she doesn’t mind living here. Having a savings account to fall back on is far more important than an apartment with actual walls around her bedroom. “I don’t need to know about your sex life.”

“I know for a fact Mary Margaret talks to you about it.” “That’s different.” “How?”

“So, I filed the papers,” she blurts out, changing the subject.

“Did you really?”

“Mhm, yesterday, and I’ve already texted Killian so I can give him the papers in case he wants to contest it or anything.”

“Do you think he will?” “What? No. Neither of us want to be married. It was literally a drunken mistake. Nothing about it was sane. We both want it behind us.”

“Is that Emma?” Mary Margaret says.

“Yes.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“Wait,” Emma starts, “aren’t you at work? How is Marg there?”

“I’m home on my lunch break. I – ”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret gasps, her voice coming in clear in the phone. “I had no idea Killian was one of Ariel’s clients. I don’t know how I didn’t realize that when we did the convention. I called Ariel yesterday, and I just had to talk to her about how funny the whole thing was with the two of you getting married. We – ”

“Wait,” Emma gasps, dropping her package of Pop-Tarts to the counter, “you talked to Ariel about it? Did she know or did you tell her?”

“Well, I told her.”

Shit, Marg. “Marg, Killian hadn’t told anyone about it! I don’t think he wanted to! What happened to not telling anyone?”

“I assumed she knew.” “Did you having to tell her about it not clue you in that maybe you shouldn’t have told her?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking. That’s been happening so much lately. God, Emma, these pregnancy hormones will make you insane. It’s, like, shit, my brain isn’t even my brain even more. I’ve been all over the place. I promise I didn’t mean to screw that up. It didn’t even cross my mind. Will you apologize to Killian for me?”

“Mary Margaret Nolan,” Emma whispers, “did you just say that you’re pregnant?”

“Fuck, I did, didn’t I?”

Emma barks out a laugh, leaning forward to rest her arms and her forehead against the countertop. She was just teasing David about this, and then…they’re having a baby. For all the screwed-up thoughts Emma has over her own experiences in this area, she knows this is a good, wonderful thing that David and Mary Margaret deserve.

Damn.

They’re going to be great parents.

“Congratulations, lady! I’m so happy for you guys, and I forgive you for being even more scatterbrained than normal.”

“Says the most unorganized person I know.”

“I get shit done.”

“That you do…most of the time.” Mary Margaret sighs. “I’m so happy, Emma.”

“As you should be. You guys are going to be the best parents.”

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Tell David congrats on knocking you up.”

“What a graceful way to put that my wife is pregnant,” David grumbles, his voice muffled. “Real classy.” “That’s me. Marg, are you going to be at any of my shoots tomorrow? I think I need to hug you.”

“I will be at your two o’clock appointment because I need to go over some of the paperwork for you.”

“Perfect. Expect the biggest hug of your life.”

-/-

“How the hell does Ariel know that I got married?”

“Well, hello to you too, Jones.”

Emma side steps around Killian and lets herself into his apartment, her eyes scanning over the place. It’s clean a lot cleaner than her place, and she wonders if it’s always like this or if he cleaned specifically because she was coming over. But that would be ridiculous, and she doubts Killian would have straightened up his bookshelves and dusted his TV off just because she was here.

“Hi, Swan,” he sighs, closing the door behind her before walking back to the kitchen where something that smells ridiculously good is cooking on the stove. “It’s nice to see you. You’re looking as beautiful as ever. How the hell does Ariel know that I got married?”

Emma sighs and pulls out a barstool to sit down, dropping the envelope of papers on the countertop. “Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret, and she told Ariel. I’m really sorry about that.”

“I mean, it’s fine. Honestly. Ariel and Eric have always been like older siblings to me, but they can get a little…”

“Overbearing, protective, annoying as hell?”

“Yeah,” Killian laughs, turning around and crossing his arms so that the muscles in his arms flex underneath his t-shirt. “You know the type?”

“My friends are the exact same way, which makes sense that they’re friends with Ariel and Eric.”

“Small worlds and all that.” “That seems to be happening lately.” Emma sighs and pushes the papers over the countertop. “So, we are officially a pair of fools whose annulment papers are somewhere bustling around in the family council office of Boston.”

His brow arches. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. I didn’t get an attorney. I filed the papers out myself I didn’t ask the split any assets or anything…since we don’t actually share any. I don’t think you have to do anything unless you see something ghastly wrong in these papers, but we have to wait at least twenty-one days before it’ll get looked at. That’s how long you have if you dispute anything.”

“I’m not going to dispute anything, love.” Emma opens her mouth to dispute his little name, but she stops herself. It’s just how he is, and there’s no reason for her to be rude to him no matter how fun that could be. He’s never actually done anything wrong to her. “The only reason I’d dispute the disappearance of our marriage is the fact that I know how you kiss, and it’d be such a shame to not get to do that again.”

She takes back every nice thought about him she’s ever had. She gained a few new ones Monday night, but they’re all about to fly out the window.

“If I had something to throw at you, I would.”

“Such a violent lass.”

“I am what I am.”

Killian chuckles and turns back around to the pot he has on the stove. “I’ve got some spinach and ricotta tortellini if you want to stay for lunch.”

“Oh, I, um, I really shouldn’t.”

“Have you eaten lunch?”

“No.”

“Do you have plans to eat lunch?” He turns around to look at her, and all she can do is shrug. “Exactly what I thought. C’mon, darling. We’ll call it a celebratory lunch that we’re soon to be free of what was quite frankly a nasty marriage. I mean, my wife kept trying to throw things at me.”

“Shut up, Jones, or I’ll actually throw something at you.”

“You think that’s a threat, but really, I see it as a promise.”

The bastard winks. He’s got to stop doing that.

Killian keeps talking, asking her about her shoot yesterday and how it went. He apparently hasn’t been working as much lately but does do the occasional job like the other day to keep paying the bills until he can officially start at the Academy and get a paycheck like normal people do. Emma’s never liked talking about her job because it always seems to lead into conversations about if this is what she really wanted to do with her life. It’s not, never has been, but considering everything, this is so much better than she should have it. Maybe one day she’ll branch out into something more normal and a little calmer, but googling jobs that hire ex-convicts with a GED has never been something she particularly enjoys.

“So, how’d you get into this whole thing?” Killian asks her when he slides her a plate and hands her a bottle of water. “Someone saw you and thought they just had to have your face in an ad in a magazine?”

Emma hums, cutting a tortellini in half. “There was an ad in the paper, which makes me sound so old, for a local dress designer who wanted someone to do a shoot for some of her dresses. There was no experience required. I just needed to be the right size, and I was. I think I maybe got paid two hundred bucks for that shoot, but it opened me up to the whole industry. You?”

If she’s got to answer these questions, he does as well. Tit for tat and all that.

He hesitates. He tries to cover it up, but she can tell. He’s trying to be a cop, so obviously this whole modeling thing isn’t what he’s always wanted to do. Emma may not be some kind of genius, but she knows people pretty damn well.

“Ariel got me into it. I’d known her forever, needed some money, and it just kind of happened. I’d been piddling around in construction and bartending before that.”

“Ariel’s a good friend.”

“Yeah, she’s one of the good ones, always keeping me on track.”

Killian smiles, something soft that makes the crinkles around his eyes show up where they normally wouldn’t, and Emma’s stomach flips. It’s probably because this food is really good. That has to be it.

“So, did you make these from scratch? They’re really good.”

“I bought them from Whole Foods. It’s simple, Swan. I think anyone can make it.”

“That’s because you don’t know how unfortunate of a cook I am.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, I’m the worst. I won’t admit that to anyone who has seen me cook, but I’m definitely the worst. I could mess up boiling water.”

“That’s pathetic.”

“Hey,” Emma scoffs, flicking a piece of the bread off her plate at him. “I can say it. You can’t say it.”

“Are these in the unwritten rules of Emma?”

“Oh, absolutely. And they constantly change, so you’ll never really know.”

“Bloody hell,” he mumbles, leaning forward to press his forehead to the counter and hiding his face in his hands. She can see his smile peeking through. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Well, I assume at some point we did say ‘til death do us part.’”

“Does that mean you’re going to murder me before our papers are processed?” he laughs, those crinkles showing up again as she feels her own lips curling up to the sides.

“Obviously that’s exactly what I meant. Gonna finally put all of my police connections into use.”

“What the hell is going on out here?” someone groans, and Emma nearly falls off of her stool as someone walks down the hallway in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that’s got to be fifteen years old from all of the holes and faded letters. “Who the hell are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“You’re in my apartment.”

“You have a roommate?” Emma asks Killian, turning to look at him as he’s still got this shit-eating grin on his face. “You never mentioned that.”

“You never asked. Emma, this is Will Scarlet, my roommate. Will, this is – ”

“Holy shit,” Will gasps, “you’re the girl he married. I couldn’t believe it when Ariel told me. Sorry about that, lass. He’s a real piece of work, and I’m sure he didn’t get you satisfied on your wedding night.”

He did, but that was technically before the wedding, and she’s not saying any of that out loud.

“Oh, I think I’m going to like you,” Emma laughs, shoveling some more food in her mouth. “Can you tell me every weird thing Killian does?”

“How long do you have?”

“All day.”

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbles, pushing his hair back, “I don’t need to be here for this.”

“You do if you don’t want me to tell her about the time you went blonde.”

“Oh, I definitely have to hear that,” Emma sighs. “Tell me everything. I hope you have pictures.”

“Digital and print versions.”

“Perfect.”

-/-

-/-

Tag list:  @xemmaloveskillianx​ @stahlop @shardminds @carpedzem @captainsjedi  @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @shireness-says @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke  @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @spartanguard @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​

[jjkfire]

Preydator

Reader x Jungkook // shifter!AU, raccoon!jk // 6k words

Summary: Neither of you are quite the predator the two of you claim to be. + “I wonder what the people would say if they saw big mean lion predator tending to my wound right now.” raccoon!jk & (surprise (; hehe)!reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: Okay I know scientifically raccoons aren’t exactly preys bc they eat rodents and frogs and etc. but… for the purpose of this fic, they are classified as preys. Predators in this au refers to… tertiary consumers, like top trophic level dudes. Also, football = soccer. Sorry, calling it soccer is very awkward for me!

You’re no stranger to late nights at the library. In fact, you love them. Your brain just works better at 1 am than it does at 1 pm. You also like it when there’s far fewer people in the quiet section of the library. The scent of all the others in the room can get a little too overwhelming for someone like you so, you’re truly at your happiest when there’s only a handful of people around.

Most people don’t like to stay at the library past 2 am because that’s when the campus buses stop running but you don’t really mind. Walking home at 3 in the morning after a long study session when the streets are eerily quiet, doesn’t faze you at all. It’s calm, peaceful and it makes you feel at ease. Your walks are usually uneventful and that’s probably a good thing. You have a small handheld can of pepper spray just in case of anything but in all your semesters here, you’ve only had to use it once and that had been a while ago, but perhaps you spoke to soon because tonight you find yourself gripping that small can in your hand, heart thumping loudly against your chest.

There’s the sound of a loud tortured squeal and you can’t quite pinpoint where it’s coming from. You pick up your pace attempting to get away from the source, but you don’t really know where to go. You know the sound is coming from a hurt animal and just that thought alone makes you sweat, because it probably means that a predator shifter that’s out of his or her senses is on the loose. Sure you should try to help whatever it is that’s making that noise but you reconsider the fact that you are but a tiny prey shifter and that if you do stop to help, you’ll probably be the next victim.

The squeals seem to echo no matter how far you walk, in fact they get louder and you start to run, your hand fumbling for the can of pepper spray in your pocket. You stumble, the loud clang of metal ringing through the night as you trip over a misplaced manhole cover. You whine, groaning in pain when you end up on the floor. The squeals are more urgent now, as if it was warning you of what’s to come and god, you shut your eyes, hoping that whatever feral predator that’s lurking will hopefully end your life quick, unlike its previous victim that’s still screaming in pain.

You’re waiting and waiting and waiting but the fatal bite to your neck never comes. You can still hear the squeals, less urgent this time, almost like there’s no effort in them. Slowly, you peel your eyes open, dusting off the dirt on your knees after you had taken a quick look around to make sure you were safe. You let out a whimper when you press at your injured toe. Surely it was going to bruise, you sigh, mumbling to yourself. At that sound, you hear the loud squeals again, accompanied with the sound of water being sloshed about. Odd.

Just up ahead, you see a hole in the ground, presumably where the manhole cover you just tripped over was meant to go. You inch towards it slowly, carefully, unsure if it was just a trap. If you were being honest, all of this seemed eerily like the opening of a horror movie. Despite your gut telling you to just take off and run, you risk a peek down the hole in front of you and in there you see the source of all your panic tonight, a poor little raccoon, limping around and squealing as it peered up at you.

“You poor baby,” You frown, as you watch the raccoon try to reach for the metal rungs on the side of the wall, attempting to climb up towards you. “Just wait down there. I’ll come get you!”

You take one last look around you, ensuring that the injured raccoon wasn’t being used to bait you because yes, you’re that paranoid. You remove your backpack and slowly make your way down into the sewer, nose wrinkling at the awful stench. When you reach the bottom, the raccoon stands aside timidly as if it was afraid of you and you offer it your hand, to show that you meant no harm.

“I’m no predator, don’t worry,” You laugh as it comes up to sniff you. “Let’s get you home, huh?” You murmur as you attempt to pick it up, making sure you avoid the large gash you see on its side.

“You still want these?” You ask, pointing to the clothes that are drenched in sewer water and it shakes its head no. Thank god. You didn’t want to touch it in the first place. With that, you attempt to climb up the metal rungs with just one available hand. It’s a bit of a struggle and you can tell that the little raccoon is attempting to muffle its pained squeals, burying its head in your shirt.

When you finally get back to ground level, you see that the gash the raccoon has is much worse than you had thought. It seems weak, tired, and when you ask if it could point you the way of its house, it only blinked at you. You can see the poor animal shivering in the light breeze, whimpering as it attempted to limp closer to you. You guess you had no choice but to bring it home with you.

When you finally reach your studio apartment, you quickly got a towel, helping the raccoon to dry off as best as you could without touching the wound.

“So… now what?” You ask out loud but you’re mainly talking to yourself because you know the animal has no capacity to answer you. “I think this will be easier to treat in your human form,” You point at his wound. “What’s your trigger?” You question.

Shifters mostly stay in their human form and only turn into their animal form when they experience any one of their specific triggers. For some it’s when they get angry, a very common trigger for large predators. For some, it’s when they’re hurt, for others it’s when they feel threatened and for the raccoon that you’ve just rescued, it’s apparently food because it’s limping towards your fridge, trying to nudge the door open.

“Food?” You ask as you catch up with it. “Okay, but first we gotta clean your hands,” You smile, as you bring the bottle of hand sanitizer down from the counter to sanitize its tiny little hands. An audible coo leaves your lips as you watch it rub its small palms together. Raccoons, you sigh lovingly. How could anyone hate them?

You open the door to your fridge, humming as you look at the contents of it, or perhaps lack of it.

“Sandwich?” You ask. All you had in your fridge was one half of the grilled cheese sandwich you had made last night. “I mean that’s all I have anyway, so the answer is going to have to be yes,” You chuckle as you pop it into the microwave.

“Just wait here,” You say as you move towards your closet to grab another towel. A cleaner and much larger one because you know once the raccoon shifted back, it was going to be stark naked and you didn’t want any… surprises. The microwave dings, and you hear the raccoon let out excited squeals, attempting to climb up onto the counter despite its injury.

You laugh, bringing the plate down to the floor before you watched it grab the sandwich with its little hands. The raccoon was absolutely adorable, munching on its sandwich and you’ll admit you’re quite a fan of the animal, if it wasn’t already evident from the numerous raccoon plushies sat on your bed. It’s a guilty pleasure but you often watch cute raccoon videos in your free time. Raccoons just have those cute tiny hands and that adorable little face and some of them are so chubby that all you wanted to do was pick them up and cuddle them. You’re sort of lost in your own thoughts about raccoons that it takes the tugging of the towel to bring you back to earth. When you look back down, you realise that in those few minutes your new raccoon buddy has finished the sandwich, which meant it was going to shift back soon. It’s probably why it had pulled at that towel with such urgency. It doesn’t get too far, just out of your small little kitchen before you hear a loud thump and a subsequent groan.

You quickly move towards the sink to wash the plate, trying to pretend like this was totally normal. The reality of the situation suddenly hit you like an oncoming train and so you continue pretending that your heart isn’t beating at 1000 miles per minute, that you didn’t have a complete stranger in your house and maybe you realize how naïve and stupid you are now that there’s a full grown human that you don’t know in your apartment. What’s worse is that it’s a man and you know that because that voice is way too deep for it to be a woman’s and—

“Hello.”

“Umm, hi,” You mumble, looking up from the plate that you have just set aside to see a half-naked man staring back at you. It takes you a second, maybe two before you go, oh because you’ve got the campus’ prized fuckboy, Jeon Jungkook, in your apartment... wearing nothing but a towel on his hips.

“Oh my god,” He shakes his head. “I just can’t believe it’s actually you. I mean I sort of realized in the sewer, but I digress. It’s you! Y/N the meme girl!” He laughs. “You know the uhh that—” He stops his sentence halfway, drop-kicking the air in front of him. “—that girl.”

“Yes,” You sigh. “I’m that girl. All thanks to you, Jeon Jungkook the professional meme maker.”

“I just edited funny text on the video,” He shrugs. “It’s basically all you… and Choi Junho of course. That sucker,” He laughs.

God, if there was one person you didn’t want the raccoon to be, it would be Jungkook. Scratch that, there’s two people you didn’t want it to be and one of them is Jungkook and the other would be Choi Junho, but you are well aware that Junho is no raccoon.

Junho is a beloved player on the college basketball team. People worship the ground he walks on and everyone, and really everyone loves him. He’s the reason your college’s basketball team has been doing so well. Back in freshman year, like everyone else, you liked him too. When you found out you were sharing a discussion section of one of your classes with him, you were ecstatic. You just wanted to be able to say ‘Oh yeah Junho and I are in the same discussion section. He’s pretty nice.’ at parties to make others envious and not really anything more than that. You never expected to know him any more than the usual classmate whom you would talk to in class and then smile politely at if you were to bump into each other in public, and for a long time, it was just that.

Then, one night at some Halloween house party, you bumped into him while you were pouring yourself a drink. He seemed sober for the most part and so were you. A few glasses later however, neither of you were sober and in some dark corner of the house, he had his tongue down your throat, his hands roaming all over your body. He kept asking if you wanted to go upstairs and for a moment you felt... good, because look at you, you were just seconds away from sleeping with arguably the most popular guy on campus. Yet, something about it didn’t sit right with you. Maybe it was the contents of your stomach that was threatening to come out any second now. So, you said no, respectfully, and told him you were comfortable right there. Honestly, you thought after that he would move on to someone else, his next prey or whatever, but he hung around, asked if you wanted to head back to his place, asked if he could walk you home, asked if you wanted to reconsider going upstairs. You got away from him somehow, you couldn’t remember how but you do remember dreading the fact that you would have to see him in discussion after the weekend.

You hoped that it had been the alcohol that made Junho so… creepy, that perhaps he would have forgotten everything and gone back to just knowing you as that person in his discussion section, but come Monday, you realised he had no intention of forgetting. He flirted with you shamelessly, pressuring you to go out on a date with him, always repeating himself even when you had respectfully declined, numerous times. Eventually, hes seemed to get the hint and instead, he would ask to meet at the library on the pretext of getting some work done, but then halfway through studying you could feel his hand on your knee. Although you guessed that could be a friendly gesture, it made you uncomfortable and so you would always find an excuse to leave. 

The worst part of all of it though was the fact that he didn’t feel guilty or bad or any sort whenever he saw how uncomfortable he made you. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it, like it was some sick game for him. He would text you all the time, find ways to sit next to you in lecture and discussion, show up at parties you were at, tried to befriend your friends. You felt like you couldn’t really tell anyone about the situation because Junho was well, Junho. He was popular, well-liked and if you were to say that you felt like he was borderline stalking you, you would be labelled as pretentious or an attention seeker.

You felt helpless. There was nothing you could do, because his aura in general scared you. He was a predator. You knew just from his scent. Predator shifters are rare, they are revered and Junho was rather proud he was one. He was a panther and when he was toying with you, you could see it in his expression, the mischievousness and power that he held. Whenever you were near him, you felt like you were in danger. You felt like if you said no one more time, he would just find ways to make you say yes. So, you tried your best to isolate yourself and you tried to find excuses so you could attend a different discussion section. You even changed your phone number. You did everything you could to get away from him. It did nothing to deter him though and he even bothered you well through winter break and into the following semester.

Then came the fateful day. Valentine’s Day. He had stopped you in the middle of the quad, with a box of chocolates in hand, handing it to you so everyone could see, so you were under pressure to accept. You didn’t want to. You knew that if you did, he would get the wrong idea and so you said no thank you, soft and quiet so nobody but him could hear. He insisted and put the box into your hand with that sick, sick smile on his lips. Everyone was cooing, smiling and you didn’t want that. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like that all eyes were on you, all the attention was on you and most of all you didn’t like the way he was looking at you like he had won, that you were his prey for the taking now. You wanted to run, your prey instincts told you to, but you know doing that meant that he would still be the winner so, you did what you thought was best. You took a deep breath, stretching your hand out, you dropped the box of chocolates and kicked it as high and as far as you could. You could hear gasps of horror, the look of surprise on everyone’s face and in the commotion of it all, you took your chance to escape. You were still shaking even when you went to bed that night.

The aftermath of it all was uncontrollable. There were so many videos of it online, from numerous angles. It was starting to get out of hand and you were receiving messages from strangers, half of them cussing you out, wishing you misfortune and the other half congratulating you on your— in their words— big dick energy. It was absolute chaos but you had achieved what you wanted and Junho was nowhere to be seen… until of course Jungkook came into the picture.

See, it was all fine and dandy until the ever wonderful Jeon Jungkook decided to produce numerous meme edits of the incident. They had titles like me @ my responsibilities and me @ my money, with accompanying music and video effects. What was a video that was popular campus wide soon became a viral video that had spread all across the world. Everyone and really, everyone recognized you as the girl who drop-kicked some loser’s gift… which meant now everyone recognized Junho as the loser who got his gift drop-kicked.

There was a shift of attitude on campus and suddenly people either feared you or wanted to be your friend. You were rumoured to be either a poisonous prey, or the more popular theory, some predator, perhaps a lion. That could not be any further from the truth, but in any case, you liked that. It meant that people feared you so, you played into that belief, made people around you think that you were in fact a predator when you were a prey. Lion shifters were extremely rare, the rarest of the rare and so you achieved that stay away from her status that you could have previously only dreamed of. You bought some predator scent spray online and you had the resting bitch face to match too and so that’s how sophomore year went for you. Good, quiet. People admired you from afar, kept their distance. It was nice and you didn’t have to fear walking around campus at night because you knew that people knew not to come near you. All except one, of course.

Choi Junho was not one to back down and so he came up to you when you were on your routine walk home from the library, alone and vulnerable. First, he appeared apologetic, head bowed down, shifting his weight from one feet to another, but the next second, he had you pinned against the wall, hand on your throat.

“You poor little thing,” He smirked. “You may have everyone fooled but oh, not me.”

His grip on your throat tightened and you could see it, his eyes beginning to change, that familiar feral glow beginning to show.

“I knew you liked playing games. You like being hunted, don’t you?” He licked the corners of his lips. “You want me to chase you, you want to feel powerful, but in the end you want me to put you in your place, don’t you?”

You struggled against him, gasping, your hand trying to loosen the grip he has around your neck.

“I love it when you look like this,” He grinned, wiping away your tears with his free hand. “All desperate and weak for me.”

Your fingers finally closed around the can in your pocket and with the little strength you had left, you sprayed it in his eyes, hoping to god that it actually works. The boy in front of you cried out in pain, crumpling to the ground as he wiped his eyes. You took the opportunity to kick him right in the gonads, a few times too many. People like him should never be allowed to reproduce. You told yourself it was in self-defence, but you knew it was mostly for revenge. That was the last time he bothered you. You never tried to report the whole incident. You had no proof anyway so, you continue to pretend like it was all a dream, or rather a nightmare. Junho’s still the campus’ beloved basketball star and you’re only one of the many girls he had tried to get with. You wonder if there are other girls like you out there, girls who had to suffer under his hands. That’s a thought you keep locked far, far away.

“Seems like I uhh, brought up some bad memories,” Jungkook mumbles when he notices the grimace on your face. You realize you’ve been silent for way too long and so you shake yourself out of it, bringing your attention back to the boy in front of you.

“Something like that I guess…” You murmur. “Anyway, so, you umm want to get cleaned up? I have some oversized shirts and sweatpants that you might fit. Might.”

“As long as they’re not Junho’s,” He jokes and all that garners out of you is a sneer.

“They’re mine,” You mumble, walking towards your closet to pull out some clothes. “Not fashionable in the least, but it’s better than walking out there naked.”

“Uhh debatable but okay, fine, true,” He nods as he looks to see if the clothes would fit. “Thanks… for the clothes and for umm everything, really. I’m not sure how long I would have been stuck down there... and with the gash and all, it could’ve ended badly for me.” He points to the cut on his chest which is considerably less menacing than when it took up almost half his body when he was in his animal form.

“It’s no big deal,” You mumble. “And yeah we’ll get that wound sorted out after you shower. Make sure to clean the area when you’re in there.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes, before you point him in the direction of your bathroom.

This surely wasn’t the way you imagined meeting the guy who propelled you to meme stardom. You expected it to be more hostile but then again, he’s injured and you can’t beat someone when they’re down can you? But, perhaps what surprised you more than anything was the fact that he was your kin, a prey like you and also, a liar.

See, Jungkook is a forward on the football team, a college athlete and that meant two things. One, he is a predator and two, he’s well-liked. Though the latter is unfortunately an undeniable truth, the first one however, considering what you’ve seen tonight is definitely false. This is important because only predators are allowed to be athletes and a major perk of being an athlete is the scholarship that comes along with it. No matter how good prey shifters are at a certain sport, they would never get to be an athlete and would instead have to compete for academic scholarships which are extremely hard to obtain. So the big question here is how did that fluffy little raccoon book his spot on the football team?

You guess he looks the part of a predator shifter, with a lean body and a fair amount of muscle mass… (not that you were looking at his body at all that is). Also, the fact that he doesn’t cower away from social interaction helped with the predator persona as most prey shifters tend to keep to themselves. Maybe you ought to take a pointer or two from him.

To you, it’s odd that he’s on the football team. He wasn’t an exceptional athlete as per se, in fact if you remember correctly, he spends most matches on the bench. Though you’d argue that even so, he seemed to be more popular than the guys who usually made it onto the first team.

He’s known on campus for being that guy, you know that 10/10 boyfriend guy. He’s the kind of guy you’d take home to your parents because you know they’ll love him, but he’s also the kind of guy that would fuck your brains out... but also the kind of guy that would take you on cute little dates. Yeah, you know, that guy. You’re not sure why you know all of this. Probably because in your first year at the dorms, those around you would not shut up about him, ever. From what you know, he got around but was always clear that he never wanted anything more. He wasn’t the kind of guy to forget names or lead someone on. He was always respectful. From the short flings he had, they always seemed to end... well, on mutual terms and the girls never had anything bad to say other than that he just wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. Rather, a wholesome fuckboy, if one ever existed.

You could definitely see it. He’s nice, charismatic, that much you deduce as he attempts to make small talk with you now that he’s done with his shower, but you realize he is also definitely trying to avoid getting his wound tended to. You’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to be half naked just a little while longer to garner a reaction out of you or if he was genuinely afraid of the pain that comes with applying antiseptic cream to a raw wound.

“Look, if you don’t want to do it, it’s fine,” You sigh, from where you’re seated on your bed. “I’m not your mother, you can do whatever you want.”

“No, I know it has to happen, but it… it stings,” He frowns, joining you. “Cleaning the area with water was already painful enough.”

“Well, just say whenever you’re ready then,” You sigh, turning away from him to turn on the TV.

“Okay, fine, just do it now,” He mumbles. “But— but be… gentle.”

You almost laugh at the way he looks in front of you right now, all timid and afraid. It was a huge contrast to how he appeared on the banners around school, all proud in his football jersey with his arms folded across his chest.

He winces every so often as you apply the cream to his wound, soft whimpers leaving his lips. You’re trying your best to be delicate, and you think you’re doing quite a fine job because halfway through when you look up at the boy, he’s smiling.

“I wonder what the people would say if they saw big, mean, lion predator tending to my wound right now uwu,” He coos, when your eyes finally meet his.

“Did you actually just say uwu out loud?” You gawk, pulling your focus away from his wound. “You know it’s an emoticon right?”

“Yes, but it’s also a feeling. See, uwu,” He coos again, his voice pitched higher. “It’s a feeling,” He reaffirms, grinning, as if what he had just said made perfect sense.

“Maybe I’ll just stick this cotton bud into your wound, and we’ll see how uwu you’re feeling.”

“Please… please don’t do that,” He grimaces.

Though the wound is not deep, you do think he should at least go get checked for the numerous bruises that litter his skin. He’s in pain, you know that for sure and he’s trying to downplay how much exactly, but you are no fool. Considering that it was a bad fall, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a hairline fracture on one of his limbs. Jungkook waves your concern away, simply thanking you when you bandage his wound. He finally, finally puts on his shirt and you expect him to dash out of your house, but he seems to linger, as if he had something to say but he wasn’t quite sure how to say it.

“I see you’re a fan of mine,” He smiles, pointing to the numerous raccoon memorabilia that decorates your bed and side-table.

“Don’t read too much into it. I like the animal, yes, but I didn’t know you were one so, not to worry, I am not a member of the Jungkook fanclub.”

“That’s a shame. I hear the club has nice perks, like you know, quality time with me,” He smirks. “Which honestly speaking, is a rare commodity.”

“My, now I’m just dying to be in the club,” You huff, rolling your eyes. “You know, wouldn’t your fans be disappointed to find out that the guy they’re fawning over is not in fact a predator but a prey instead.”

“About that…” He sighs, hands nervously tugging at the ends of his shirt. “You know we’re in the same boat, don’t you? We’re both sheep in wolves clothing.”

“Nice twist on the idiom, I like it,” You nod. “But, I feel like you’re trying to make a point here. What is it?”

“That if you tell on me, then I’m telling on you,” He mumbles. “I’m not a fan of blackmail but I really, really need this scholarship.”

“Nice to know you think so poorly of me even after all I’ve done tonight but just so you know I have no interest in revealing your secret.”

“That’s not… that’s not how I meant for it to come out,” He sulks. “I just needed to make sure that you and I are on the same page.”

“Yeah, I understand,” You murmur. “I am curious though. How did you cheat the medical test? How did you get them to believe you’re a bear when in fact you’re a raccoon? Shouldn’t you have gone for a more believable animal like say… a fox?”

“Well, for someone who’s such a huge fan of raccoons I’m disappointed by the fact that you aren’t aware that raccoons are more closely related to bears than to either the cat or dog family,” He mumbles. “Thus, I did pick the most believable animal.”

“Well, you learn something new every day,” You hum. “Okay, but that still doesn’t explain how—”

“I hired someone to change the results for me.”

“You can do that?”

“If you know the right people, yeah.”

“Well, apparently I’ve been hanging out with the wrong people,” You mumble. “And your scent… how do you work around that?”

“I can’t use the spray because I’ll basically sweat it all off so I use that supplement… you know the one you see sketchy ads of on TV?”

“Preydator! Tell your fears, see ya later!” You sing-song, imitating the ad you often saw on TV. The jingle was rather catchy. “That one? It actually works?”

“Yeah, for now, but who knows maybe in 20 years after they’ve done adequate research, they’ll tell me that it’s killing me slowly.”

“That’s very disconcerting to hear…” You frown. “If you’re a quote unquote certified predator then you could’ve avoided this by just applying for the academic scholarships. Why didn’t you do that? The requirements are extremely low if you’re a predator.”

“Because I’m good at football,” He says rather nonchalantly. “And I have a bone to pick with the athletic department. Preys should be allowed to be on the team if we’re good enough.”

You almost say but you aren’t that good at football but you guess making it on the bench of the first team is still a feat, so you decide to hold off on that thought.

“So, now that you know all my secrets, it’s only fair that you tell me one of yours,” He smiles. “What are you?”

“Hey, I never said we were going to trade secrets. You just decided to tell me all of yours.”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” He frowns. “At least let me guess. Then you can just say yes or no.”

“Go ahead,” You smile. You were positive he wasn’t going to get it right.

“Rabbit? No?” He queries and you shake your head. “What’s… what’s a prey with attitude? Because that’s what you are.”

You only gawk at him. This guy just says whatever he wants. You’re starting to think that everyone else sees a different side of Jungkook or maybe they just excuse his sass just because of his good looks.

“A… frog? Or oh… don’t tell me you’re an insect shifter,” He grumbles with mild disgust.

“You know, that’s really mean but no, I am not an insect shifter.”

“You sure? You could easily be a black widow or maybe you’re one of those poisonous animals like that poisonous sea snail or—”

“Okay,” You huff, annoyed with the boy now. You rise to your feet, pulling him along with you. “You know this was a really nice chat and a very interesting evening, but I have an early class tomorrow so if you could find your way home now, that would be great.”

“But I still don’t know what you are yet,” He frowns.

“Boohoo, neither does most of the campus.”

“See, a prey with an attitude!” He exclaims. “Come on, I’m close, I know it. At least give me a clue!”

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” You smile, effectively pushing him out of your apartment with a kick.

“Throwing out an injured comrade like this. You’re heartless,” He fake sobs from the other side of the door before you hear him sigh and make his way down the hallway and out of your life, hopefully forever. Perhaps that was wishful thinking because in a few short minutes you hear hurried footsteps out in the hallway. You pay it no mind, or at least you try to do so but then you see shadows dancing just outside of your door, and when you finally get up to look through the tiny peephole, you find Jungkook standing out there, pacing back and forth as he silently practices a speech.

“Can I help you?” You question after having opened your door to find a very stunned Jungkook.

“Well, Y/N, it’s uhh nice to see you again,” He smiles, nervously so. “You see, the thing is I uhh lost my keys in the sewer, obviously and… you know the management office to my building isn’t open because it’s so late and—”

“Surely you have friends you could call up for help.”

“Well, firstly I doubt they’ll pick up a call this late at night and secondly, since I already shifted, I smell like prey and guess what everyone thinks I am,” He mumbles. “In case you’re struggling, the answer is not prey.”

“I’ll let you borrow my predator scent spray.”

“That’s a novel idea,” He nods, admitting. “But you can also let me stay the night.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“You know more about me than anyone on campus does. I’d argue that you know me very well,” He hums.

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N.”

You sigh, moving to shut the door on him because it was way past your bed time and you do not have the energy to have this conversation right now.

“Please. There’s a lot at stake here,” He begs, using his foot to stop the door. “You know what it’s like for us when we have to lie under pressure… We don’t do very well.”

“You’ve been lying your entire college career so I think you’re pretty good at it.”

“Listen, if there’s any inkling of me being a prey, my scholarship is gone. It’s a risk I don’t want to take,” He frowns. “The lie I tell to my teammates and my coaches, the predator act that I put on, that’s been carefully curated and I’ve gone over it ten thousand times in my head to make sure it’s perfect. I can lie, yes, but only when I’ve had time to prepare. I know you know that too.”

“Fine,” You grumble, moving aside. “You can stay, but… behave.”

“Yes ma’am,” He salutes once you let him through your door. “Thank you so much. Seriously.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, undoubtedly. For everything, really,” He mumbles, shy and timid. His sentence is sincere, one you weren’t exactly expecting considering how snarky he had been earlier. He follows behind you closely, stopping beside the bed when he reaches it. You tuck yourself in from the other side and you’re turning to him, ready to deliver your whole spiel of if I find your hand anywhere remotely inappropriate I am going to saw it off, only to find him placing a pillow on your floor.

“What are you doing?” You query, watching him with furrowed eyebrows.

“Going to bed?”

“Why are you putting the pillow on the floor?”

“Well, because I can tell you don’t really want to have me here and I’m probably overstepping some boundaries and I just don’t want to impose really so I’m good with the floor.”

Even though it’s happened a fair few times now, you still find it oddly amusing to see Jungkook behaving like a prey shifter. Always cautious, always timid in unfamiliar situations. Though you do or rather did have some reservations about him, you can tell that he’s perfectly harmless.

“You can sleep on the bed,” You murmur.

“A-are you sure? I mean really you’ve done enough for me and it’s going to be morning in a few hours so it’s okay, really.”

“Jungkook, just get in the bed,” You groan. “You’re making me feel bad now.”

“I just need you to be 100% sure you’re okay with that.”

“Seriously, if you keep asking, I’m just going to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Okay, okay, I’m getting into the bed,” He concedes, quickly picking up the pillow. “Thank you,” He whispers once he finally settles under the blanket.

If he says anything after that, you don’t hear it. It had taken you less than a minute to fall asleep. When you awake in the morning, you expect to find the boy all sprawled out on his side of the bed but instead the covers on his side has been neatly folded, the pillow and your raccoon plushies all arranged in an orderly fashion. Jungkook sure was full of surprises, you note.

Later on when you head to the bathroom, you find numerous post-it notes stuck onto your mirror, all of them filled with apologies.

Y/N, I had to use your predator spray… Really sorry about that and actually just really sorry about the whole of last night. Thank you for being so kind and considerate and though I can’t see you right now, I know you’re making that face. The one you make when you think I’m being sarcastic but really I owe you. Big time. I’ll make it up to you… Though I have a feeling one way you want me to make it up to you is by just never having to see me again haha. If that is so, consider it done.

Love, the biggest member of the Y/N fanclub.

You almost laugh when you reach the end of the note. There’s even a poorly drawn raccoon to punctuate his sign-off. You guess he deserves an A for effort. What surprises you about the note though is how well he had read you from just that one night alone. Perhaps you’re more of an open book than you thought. In any case, you’re glad that last night would be the one and only interaction with him because judging from your past experiences with athletes, you know they only leave you with headaches so, you’re glad that both you and Jungkook are on the same page. In some way, the previous night seems like a fever dream, the whole entire experience so outlandish that you would have never even thought to dream it and for a week or two, you forget that it even happened until you get a reminder of the day, much belatedly.

You come home one day to find a box in front of your door. It has no address and has nothing to indicate the contents of it, until of course you flip it to find a drawing of a raccoon, this time a much better one. In fact it seems like he spent quite some time on it. When you open the box, you find the clothes you had lent Jungkook, washed and even ironed. What makes you smile though isn’t that but rather the small raccoon plushies you find, along with keychains and a phone case. A little note in the box tells you that Jungkook felt odd buying stuff that resembled him but he did owe you and that he hoped this in some way evened out the debt he owed. You think you’re starting to see why everyone goes on and on about how nice he is. At the core, he really is a sweet person. Annoying at times, but sweet nonetheless. In any case, the passing interaction you had with him was nice though you think this will probably be the last you hear from him.

As much as you liked to believe that, you’ll come to find out that the universe seems to have other plans. Because you keep seeing him again and again, and with each time, he seems to knock down the defenses you’ve set up with practiced ease. In fact, it takes him no longer than a week to show up on your front door, begging you for help and like the fool that you are, you oblige.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! As always, feedback is appreciated (:

This was a self-indulgent fic and rly my version of crack tbh. Also this fic is in honour of my buddy that actually drop-kicked a gift he was given. Unlike OC, he was just a dickhead. I really shouldn’t laugh because the poor girl just wanted to give him chocolates but good god, every time I replay the scene in my head I can’t help but laugh. Man, high school was crazy.

[emospritelet]

DH remix prompt 14 "why the hell didn't you tell me?"

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [AO3]

Last time, Gold sought some legal advice and Belle prepared for their next meeting by talking things over with Emma. They were both given good advice so that means they’re gonna be sensible about things, right?

Please send me a prompt from this list or this list to fuel the angst and smut

x

Belle managed to get through a day of college without any issues, and at three p.m. she headed back into her old neighbourhood, and to the diner where she worked. She explained that she had to leave at seven due to an appointment connected to her pregnancy, and the manager gave her a long, appraising look that made her sigh. She had already taken time off in the early days when morning sickness had been a problem. Ed wasn’t known for his tolerance of absenteeism, or his treatment of his waitresses, and she suspected he was close to firing her. Jasmine, one of the other waitresses, immediately offered to stay to cover the rest of her shift, which made him nod slowly and wander off to the kitchen, and Belle heaved a sigh of relief before thanking Jasmine profusely. The last thing she needed on top of everything else was to lose the one source of income she had. 

By the time she left the diner she was sticky with sweat and her feet ached. The rain had grown heavier again, so she ducked into a nearby deli to try and wait it out, and to purchase a few items that she had noticed Gold hadn’t picked up. He’d done pretty well with the groceries, from what she had seen, but she didn’t have any hot chocolate powder, or the thick yogurt that she liked, or peppermint tea to settle her stomach when the baby was kicking. She was sure that if she mentioned it, he would get her anything she wanted, but she didn’t want to ask anything more of him, and so she wandered the deli aisles, breathing in the comforting scent of fresh bagels and ground coffee as she made her choices with what remained of last week’s wages.

Purchases made and packed into a large paper bag, she was dismayed to find that the rain had only grown heavier. It was also further to the new apartment than she had appreciated, and she hurried along the sidewalks, head down and her umbrella keeping the worst of the rain from her. The wind was trying to get through her coat, and she shivered as icy fingers traced her cheeks and whipped around her legs. A truck passed at speed, veering too close to the sidewalk, ploughing through the deep puddles that were collecting and sending a sheet of water over her. Belle choked, stopped in her tracks by the shock of it. Cold water dripped down her face, and she spat, blinking furiously.

“You bastard!” she shouted, glaring after the truck as its red tail lights sped away from her.

She was drenched, her legs soaking and cold water seeping through the shoulders of her coat. It was pointless to keep using the umbrella, and so she furled it, tucking it under her arm and hugging the paper bag of groceries to her chest in case it started falling apart. Her boots squelched as she walked, water pooling underneath her feet inside them, and she winced at the unpleasant sensation. By the time she reached the apartment building she was drenched, and ready to burst into tears of anger and frustration. Marco, the concierge, immediately hurried to the door to meet her as she stumbled inside.

“Here, here, let me help you!” he exclaimed, picking up a packet of tea bags grown soggy with rainwater.

“I’m fine,” lied Belle. “What time is it?”

“Five past eight,” he said. “You sure you don’t need help? You look frozen! It’s not good for the little one, no?”

“Nothing a nice cup of tea won’t fix,” she said.

Marco smiled broadly, but she bit her lip as she remembered it was what her mother, dead for many years, had always said. Colette had been kind and gentle, with a ready smile and a warm embrace, and Belle wished she was there to tell her what to do.

“Here, let me at least call the elevator,” he said, and pushed the button for her, the doors sweeping open with a soft ping.

Belle leaned back against the wall with a sigh, letting the warmth wash over her as the elevator travelled upwards. It was past eight o’clock. Gold would be there. She wished she hadn’t agreed to meet again so soon. She wondered if there would ever be a time when she wasn’t looking like a young woman so completely out of her depth. She was willing to bet a truck hadn’t drenched him with water. It probably wouldn’t dare.

Sure enough, when the elevator opened its doors and she stepped out into the corridor, gripping the sodden groceries, he was standing outside her apartment door, looking as calm and immaculate as ever. It made her want to scream. His eyebrows climbed upwards at the sight of her, which only angered her more.

“What happened?” he asked.

“What does it look like?” she snapped, rummaging for her key. “This place is further from work than I thought, and I got drenched!”

“You should have called.”

“God, I’m so sorry you had to wait outside the apartment for all of five minutes!”

She opened the door, barging inside and stomping to the kitchen to deposit the disintegrating bag on the counter. She could hear the tap of his cane as he followed her.

“I simply meant that if you had called, I would have picked you up,” he said calmly.

Belle leaned on the counter, letting her head drop.

“Oh.”

Water was dripping from the ends of her hair, droplets splashing on the counter top, and she felt him step nearer, his closeness like an itch between her shoulder blades, a creeping tightness in her lower belly.

“Go and take a shower,” he said. “I’ll put the groceries away.”

“No, I can do it!” she insisted, pushing up again and turning to face him.

“Of course you can,” he said flatly. “But you’re soaked through and freezing, so it makes sense to go and take a hot shower, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her mouth worked. She wanted him to snap back at her, so she had an excuse to yell. More of an excuse than he had already given her, anyway. Why did he have to be so fucking reasonable? Damn him!

“Fine,” she said stiffly, and stomped off again, grabbing her robe and nightshirt from the bedroom and locking the bathroom door behind her.

She spent a long time in the shower, letting the hot water course over her, enjoying the heat that sank into her body. Once she was done, she wrapped her hair in a towel and began massaging cocoa butter into her skin, concentrating on her belly and breasts and finishing with long sweeps along her arms. Her reflection was blurred, the mirror covered in condensation, but she towel-dried her hair and brushed it out before pulling on the soft jersey nightshirt and wrapping herself in the robe. Battered sheepskin booties kept her feet snug, still warm and cosy despite their age. Not exactly her best look, but it wasn’t as though she was trying to seduce him, even if she could. She remembered the nights she had spent with Gold, when she had worn silk underwear edged with lace, and he had kissed every inch of her body as he took it off her. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Sighing to herself, she opened up the bathroom door. There was a savoury smell drifting from the kitchen, and her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime. So. He’s cooked.

Gold glanced around as she entered the kitchen, stirring something in a pan. He had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, looking as though he belonged in the kitchen, a stark reminder that this was his apartment, not hers. She remembered the times he had cooked for her before at his home in Storybrooke, when he had served up dinner on that big old dining room table, and afterwards he had stretched her out and made her the dessert. She swallowed hard, shoving the memory away.

“Take a seat,” he said. “I guessed that you wouldn’t have eaten, so I thought I’d make dinner. You don’t mind?”

Belle shrugged, sitting down at the table. He had laid two places and set out glasses of water, and there was a bowl of dressed salad and a dish of grated parmesan in the middle of the table. She could smell fried garlic, tomatoes and pungent herbs, and wondered what he was making. It would be good, she had no doubt of that. Gold always made good food. The bastard.

She watched as he turned off the heat and began dishing up, bringing two large bowls to the table. Penne pasta with a rich, thick sauce made with onions, garlic and tomatoes, basil and oregano and pieces of italian sausage. Her mouth watered, and she scooped parmesan onto it and dug in, the tomatoes sweet and sharp, the sauce rich with olive oil and melting fat from the sausage. There was a spicy kick from some fresh chilli, and she speared pieces of pasta, loading them with sauce and shoving them into her mouth with unladylike enthusiasm. Gold ate more slowly, watching her as she sat back and added some salad to her bowl. It was a good match, the vinaigrette dressing a sharp contrast to the rich sauce. She took a drink of water, spearing a piece of sausage on her fork.

“So,” he said evenly. “You said the baby was due on the fifth of May.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you have a doctor?”

Belle wrinkled her nose.

“Not exactly,” she said. “There’s a clinic near my old apartment that provided free prenatal care.”

“I see.” His fork dug into the pasta, stabbing and piercing. “I’ll get you better care. When’s your next appointment?”

“Next week.”

“Let me make some calls.”

“Knock yourself out.”

If he was irritated by her offhand tone, he didn’t react. Belle loaded more pasta onto her fork, shoving it into her mouth and chewing. Gold glanced up at her, dark eyes weighing, measuring.

“What has the doctor said?” he asked. “Is the baby alright?”

She swallowed, putting down her fork and reaching for the water to take a sip.

“Yeah, the baby’s fine,” she said. “Developing as expected, no problems on that front.”

“You’ve had scans?” he pressed. “Ultrasounds?”

“Yes,” she said evenly. “They confirm the baby is fine, as I said. Totally human, which given its parentage was something of a surprise.”

He didn’t rise to that, and she poked at her food, feeling his eyes on her, as though he was judging her, and finding her wanting. It was making her irritable.

“And you?” he said. “You look thinner. Are you eating enough?”

“I spent months throwing up, and I study and work every hour I’m not sleeping,” she said shortly. “I try to take care of myself as much as I can, but it turns out growing a person is hard fucking work, okay?”

“I’m not sure how my words were taken as a criticism, but alright,” he said dryly, and she sighed, dropping her fork and running her hands over her face, her appetite gone.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve had a long day, I had the shittiest journey back here, and I’m pretty sure the diner manager is gonna fire me any day now.”

“You don’t need to work,” he said. “You certainly don’t need to work in a bloody diner, I told you that. If you need money I can give you money.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to keep what’s left of my independence, if it’s all the same to you,” she muttered.

Gold put down his fork, sitting back and looking irritated.

“Do you have to be so bloody stubborn?” he demanded. “I’m trying to help you.”

“I know!” she snapped. “I know you are, and I know I need your help, but I don’t want to need your help, don’t you get that?”

“Well, what you want is not my concern,” he said, reaching for his water again. “What’s important here is what’s best for you, and for the child. Speaking of which, I want a paternity test.”

She felt her eyes widen.

“You want what?”

“I want a paternity test,” he repeated. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

Belle sat back, mouth open in outrage.

“You - you don’t believe me?”

“It’s not a question of whether I believe you,” he said coldly. “It’s simply the fact that I know nothing about your life since you left Storybrooke. For all I know you were fucking half of Boston.”

She wanted to slap his face, and so she pushed away from the table, storming through to the lounge and pacing back and forth. She heard the scrape of chair legs as he followed.

“Is this you refusing to do the test?” he asked, from over her shoulder, and she whirled to face him.

“Oh no, I’ll do the test,” she snapped. “And when it’s positive you can bloody well apologise to me!”

“For what?”

“For suggesting that I sleep around!” she said hotly. “Not that it’s any of your business! Why do you even care what I do?”

“I don’t,” he said coolly. “But if you’re going to claim this child is mine, I care that’s it not in fact the spawn of some musclebound beer-swilling moron.”

“Right, because that’s so the type I usually go for…”

Gold rolled his eyes.

“And more importantly, because my lawyer advised it,” he drawled. “So perhaps we can dispense with the emotional outbursts.”

“Fuck you, Gold.”

“Some other time, perhaps.” He looked at his fingernails. “My lawyer also advised that if we want to come to an arrangement, I needed to find out a little more about your life. Are you in a relationship?”

Belle folded her arms, raising her chin.

“I’m not telling you that,” she said, and his jaw tightened.

“May I ask why not?”

“Because you lost the right to ever question me about my private life when you broke up with me,” she snapped. “It’s none of your business who I date.”

“And if the person you’re seeing is a threat to my child, what then?”

“If they’re a threat to our child, they’re out of the picture,” she said flatly. “What about you? Is your life just an endless series of meaningless hook-ups with whatever Storybrooke has to offer? How can I be sure you’d take care of our child when it was your turn, huh? Not like you have actual human feelings, is it?”

His eyes gleamed, and she felt a traitorous lurch in her belly at the sight of it.

“Don’t think you can derail this conversation!” he said sharply. “I’m still waiting for an explanation as to how I’m only finding out I’m to be a father two months before the baby’s due!”

“That’s - that’s not—”

“Was there a problem?” he went on. “I know sometimes the - the signs aren’t always there, so was it that? Did you only find out recently, or something?”

“What, you think I was out partying and drinking shots and all of a sudden it was ‘whoops, my pants don’t fit’?” she asked sarcastically.

“Well, I’ve no fucking idea, because you didn’t tell me!” he snapped, his accent thickening with his anger. “How long have you known?”

Belle shifted awkwardly, and he took a step forward, his eyes darkening.

“How long?”

“Five months,” she muttered. Gold’s eyes widened in outrage.

“Five months?” He ran a hand over his face, his cheeks making a wet, clapping noise against his teeth. “Five fucking months?”

“And three days,” she added sulkily. 

“And I’m only finding out now?”

“Looks like it, huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded, anger making his voice rise. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Why do you think?” She put her hands on her hips. “Given how you broke up with me, you really have to ask that?”

He blinked rapidly, gesturing between them.

“Oh, so - so this was punishment, is that it?”

“No!” she insisted. “I wasn’t punishing you, I just - I didn’t know what to say!”

“How about ‘I’m pregnant with your child’?” he snapped, making his fingers dance in the air. “Five words, Belle! Five little words and I would have come fucking running!”

“How would I know that?” she asked, throwing up her hands. “Which of the terrible things you said to me would ever suggest you’d care?”

He snapped his mouth shut, nostrils flaring, chest heaving, and she knew she had scored a hit. She took a step closer, raising her chin.

“Go on,” she said. “What was it? Was it when you said you’d taken everything I had to offer? Was it when you told me I was - was too much effort for too little reward?”

“Stop that!” he hissed, his eyes flashing.

“Was it when you said that you’d prefer a gourmet meal but you’d take the fucking two-dollar take-out if I was offering it on a plate?” she spat. “Was that it?”

“Stop it!” 

“I won’t!” she shouted. “Do you have any idea how that feels? To have the person you love spit such - such venom at you? Do you have any idea how damaging that is?”

He glanced away, swallowing hard, and she nodded, sagging a little.

“You do know,” she whispered. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”

He was silent, and she felt rage swell inside her, rage and hurt and frustration.

“How dare you!” she snapped. “Why did you do it?”

“You know why!” he growled.

His eyes were glinting darkly, his chest heaving, and she felt her mouth fall open, realisation hitting hard enough to make her gasp. Her mouth twisted, and she shook her head.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I know why. Because you’re a coward.”

His jaw tightened, his breath quickening.

“No,” he said, the word falling from his lips with soft menace. He was rattled, and it made her want to laugh in triumph. She took a step closer, raising her chin so that her eyes met his.

“Yes,” she whispered. “You’re a coward. You pushed me away because you started to feel something, am I right?”

He was almost close enough to touch, close enough that she could smell his cologne, that she could feel the heat from him. It was as though sparks filled the air, dancing between them, making her hair rise and her skin tingle. Gold leaned in, his lips drawing back over his teeth in a grimace.

“Don’t try to analyse me, dear,” he growled.

“Oh, I don’t need to,” she said. “I just need to remember everything I’ve read about useless, commitment-shy arseholes with intimacy issues!”

“I suppose I should be more like you, should I?” he demanded. “Just clinging to the first person to come along because you can’t bear to be alone?”

“You know nothing about my life!”

“And you know nothing about mine!”

His nose was almost brushing hers, and she could sense that he was trying to intimidate her, to make her back down. It only made her want to stand her ground. She stared up at him, watching his chest heave and feeling his cool breath against her lips. Her heart was thudding hard in her chest, her pulse throbbing all the way down between her legs, and she licked her lips, watching his eyes briefly follow the path of her tongue. She felt a surge of desire for him, a need to touch him, to taste him. To know whether all she had felt for him was real.

It only took her rising up on her toes, hand stroking over his shoulder, her lips brushing against his, and his mouth slammed against hers. His lips pushed hers apart, and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, letting out a moan as she tasted him. Gold let out a rumbling groan, one hand sinking into her damp curls as he pushed her back against the nearest wall. Her belly was pressing into him, and he jerked back almost immediately, their lips parting with a smacking sound, his breath hot against her mouth. Belle grabbed his face with both hands, pulling him back to her and kissing him hard, and he let his cane fall to the side, his hands sweeping over her hips and grasping her rear.

She raked her hands through his hair, the unfamiliar feel of short strands tickling her fingers. Her touch pulled a deep growl from him, a low, bass tone that rumbled through her body, and she slid her hands down over his chest, dropping to the belt of the robe at her waist. Tugging it open, she scrabbled at his belt with shaking hands, her kiss grown hard and desperate. Gold was cupping her face with both hands, fingers sinking into her hair and sending shivers through her as his tongue pushed into her mouth, and she got the belt open with a clinking sound, flicking open his fly and reaching in to feel the hard length of his cock, cradled in silk.

Gold groaned into her mouth, and Belle squeezed him, cheeks flushing as she remembered exactly how good it felt to have him inside her. His hands slid down her body, pushing beneath the hem of her nightshirt and shoving it up over her hips, and he reached between her legs, fingers stroking her and releasing a rush of fluid. She pulled her mouth from his, head thudding back against the wall, letting out a cry of pleasure as his thumb rubbed over her clit. Gold trailed his mouth down her neck, making shivers ripple through her as he bit down, and she moaned, squeezing his cock, feeling his tongue sweep over her skin as his fingers pushed deep inside her.

Gold sucked on her throat, his tongue swirling against the place where her pulse throbbed, hard and heavy. He could feel her clenching around his fingers as he rubbed at her, her flesh like wet silk, his body humming with the need to be inside her, to sink into her, to feel her come all around him. Her hands were shaking as she grasped his shoulders and pushed him back a little, his fingers slipping from her with a wet, sucking sound. He thought perhaps she wanted him to stop, and he pulled back, but then her mouth was on his neck, nipping at his skin, her hands scrabbling at his pants and underwear and pushing them down over his hips. 

This was a bad idea. This was a bad, stupid, terrible idea. This would solve absolutely nothing, and would probably make everything worse. He knew that, and he almost said so, almost pushed her away and stopped her, stopped himself. But then she grasped his cock in her hand and stroked him hard and ran her tongue up his throat, and he smothered that tiny voice at the back of his brain, that tiny shrieking voice that might have been what passed for a conscience. He smothered it and silenced it and pushed wet fingers through her hair as he kissed her thoroughly, tasting the sweetness of her one last time.

She pushed at him, and he stumbled, falling heavily to the thick rug, his head thumping against the floor and making him groan. There was a sharp lance of pain through his leg, and he closed his eyes, grimacing, but Belle had straddled him, heat and wetness pressing against him, and he opened his eyes as she took him in hand. The robe was open, the jersey nightshirt clinging to her rounded belly and the swell of her breasts, her dark, damp curls framing her face. She was utterly beautiful, and for a moment he was breathless, transfixed by the sight of her.

He stroked his hands up her pale thighs, and she rocked her hips, rubbing herself along his length, coating him with her juices, bathing him in her heat. Gold let out a groan at the feel of her, and she sank down onto him with a long, slow movement, taking him deep inside, scalding him. He threw his head back with a hoarse cry as he pushed his hips upwards, and she moaned in response, hands braced on his belly, gripping the silk of his shirt.

Being inside her was delicious, incredible, and he gripped her hips as she began to rock against him, her movements swift and hard and urgent. She rode him like she hated him, and he imagined she did after what he had done, but the feel of her was making him see stars, the heat and friction building in a tight ball of pleasure that was starting to swell and grow, waiting to burst. He could feel it rise up through his body, making his skin tingle and his cock grow rigid. Belle’s movements quickened, her body rubbing against him as her hips pumped, her head rolling back to expose the pale length of her throat, the curves of her breasts and belly pushing against the nightshirt. She was glorious. A goddess.

He was near his peak, he knew it, and he wanted to hold off, to remain inside her, to feel the pull of her against him as she chased her own pleasure. He wanted to feel her come all around him, and he could sense that she was close, her flesh clenching and fluttering, her muscles growing taut where her thighs gripped his sides. She whimpered, her pace quickening, and he felt her come hard, a cry bursting from her. The muscles of his lower belly bunched as his shoulders rose up off the floor, a groaning gasp coming from his lungs as stars burst in his vision, blinding him. He came with a shout, his cock pulsing and spurting inside her, wet flesh tugging at his, and he fell back against the rug with a thump, pleasure washing over him as her movements slowed and stopped.

Gold let his head thud against the floor, licking dry lips as his heart thumped hard in his chest. The pleasure was dissipating, draining out of him and leaving him somehow cold and hollow, and he tried to slow his breathing, to calm himself. Belle pulled up off him, not meeting his eyes, and he watched as she got to her feet and backed away, tugging her nightshirt down before stumbling to the bathroom.

Gold sighed heavily, running his hands over his face, his fingers still sticky, heady with the scent of her. His cane lay some distance off, so he crawled over to it and used it to push himself to his feet. He straightened his clothing, rolling his sleeves back down, fastening his cufflinks and pulling on his jacket again. Replacing his armour, his protective layers, his shield against the world. He had been a fool to ever let it go. He had been a fool to touch her.

He felt better when he was fully dressed, and zipped his fly, buckling his belt as he heard the toilet flush and water running in the sink. His skin was still tingling from his orgasm, from the thrill of being inside her, the taste of her in his mouth. Straightening the knot of his tie, he licked his lips as he tried to calm his heavy breathing, and looked around as the bathroom door opened.

Belle was a little flushed, her dark curls awry, the scent of herbal soap coming from her and the robe wrapped tight around her once more. There was a dark bruise on her pale neck where he had bitten her, and it made guilt gnaw at him, even as he felt the matching bite on his own neck, just above his collar. She wouldn’t look at him, and he cleared his throat, tugging his cuffs straight and gripping his cane hard.

“I’m - ah - I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Belle finally turned to face him, putting her fists on her hips.

“What, like I didn’t make the first move?” she said, her tone dry. “You think I have no will of my own, is that it? I suppose this was yet another encounter in which you got to call all the shots, right?”

“No, of course not, it’s just—”

“Get out.”

Gold blinked, the coldness of her voice like a punch in the gut.

“Look,” he said calmly. “I realise we have a lot to talk about—”

“We do,” she agreed. “I just don’t want to do it now. I’m tired, I’m angry, and frankly, you’re making it all worse. Get out.”

He bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from snapping at her.

“Very well,” he said, his voice cool. “But given that we still need to have a conversation, I really think—”

“You have doubts about the fact you’re the father,” she interrupted, her tone impatient. “It’s fine, I get it. So I’ll take the test. Just tell me where to go and when, and I’ll do it.”

“Alright,” he said, “But—”

“And when you get the results and you’re satisfied that this baby is yours, we can talk, okay?” she went on. “Until then, leave me the hell alone, I don’t have the energy to deal with you.”

Gold felt his fingers drumming on the cane handle, and squeezed them together to hide his irritation at her constant interruptions.

“Can I at least accompany you to the doctor’s appointment?” he asked stiffly.

“What, so I can listen to your snide comments about how much of a slut I might have been and how crappy my life is?” she said thinly. “No. Since you’re so unsure whether you actually have any responsibility here, let’s wait until we get the test results.”

She stomped over to the door, and wrenched it open.

“Go back to Storybrooke,” she said. “I’ll see you in a week.”

Gold felt his jaw tighten, but nodded curtly, grabbing his coat and pulling it on. She wouldn’t look at him, and so he took his time about it, tugging the coat straight and brushing imaginary lint from the shoulders before sauntering to the door. 

“I’ll call you,” he said evenly, and she nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

He stepped into the corridor, and the door slammed behind him, leaving him in cold silence, the scent of her pleasure still on his fingers and the taste of her kiss on his lips.

[seriouslyhooked]

Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 20)

22 part AU written for @cssns​. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,Part 14, Part 15,Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy​!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! So sorry for the delay on this chapter. It’s been a crazy and hectic summer, and the muse has been chatting at her own strange pace, but I finally got the chance to write this installment. Just to warn you all, we’re in the middle of piecing together a lot of these remaining issues and this will be ending on a cliff hanger. I know, I know, but the gang is all trying to figure out what Elsa’s dreams mean and what the red eyed shifters want. We’ll get a bit more information in this installment, but all will be revealed and sorted next chapter (which should be posted within the next week). This chapter is also a little less CS focused, because they’re dealing with a big issue, but I promise we’ll be back to our normally scheduled fluff soon. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

It was amazing to Emma how a day that started off on such a turbulent track could seemingly turn around on a dime.

This morning had been a huge headache for her and Killian, and though she’d now set boundaries with her parents (most specifically her mother), Emma couldn’t help the lingering fatigue that clung to her. It was exhausting trying to plan a satisfactorily ‘fairy tale wedding’ when all she really wanted was a day of love and light and her mate, but at the end of the day it was Killian who largely saved her sanity. Yes, her grandmother had graciously stepped in, and her friends had shown up just in the nick of time to cut any remaining tension, but it was Emma’s true love who really saved the day.

Having Killian’s calm to cling to when things got stormy was such a blessing, as far as Emma was concerned. It was amazing to have someone so securely in her corner, someone who thought and acted always in the best interest of her heart. His instincts were to care for her and protect her, but to do that in a way that still empowered her to be strong all on her own. Killian may try and shield her, but he also bolstered her too. He made her brave and hopeful, and on top of all of that, he also made her blood thrum with a never-ending sense of want, and her soul flood with a near constant state of rightness…

“Killian, please, you’re teasing me, and you know how much I hate that.”

The feel of his hands on her body, running along her skin as his mouth moved across to mark all of her most sensitive places was driving Emma crazy. It was so good – so mind shatteringly perfect – but it just wasn’t quite enough. He was drawing this out and taking his time, and yeah, maybe they had all night, and maybe he’d already taken her in the kitchen mere minutes ago, but she couldn’t wait. It was killing her to feel so close but not quite there. She was restless and needy and flooded with desperate desire. And her mate was eating it all up, loving how riled she got while tormenting her with that sinful grin of his.

“Hate is a strong word, love,” Killian rumbled against her skin, his teeth nipping at her in the most provocative way and sparking even more arousal and want. “And I happen to know for a fact that hate isn’t the winner in the sea of your emotions right now. I might be driving you mad, but not so secretly you love this. You love me in every way I give myself to you.”

“Yes, God yes, but – uh -,”

Words and all rational thinking flew out the window as he found the place she wanted him most, tracing her delicate flesh with a lightness that verged on feathery. Her eyes closed and she moaned aloud, forgetting her whole argument for a moment, but then, when he’d moved lower, teasing her with his hand only to move down her body and hover over her sex with his mouth he stopped, making her crazy all over again.

“Tell me what you want, Emma. You know I’ll give you anything you ask. Anything at all.”

“Oh!” Again she lost all ability to even think as his tongue worked against her, moving exactly how she liked it. He was an expert at her every last desire, and he knew it, numbing her mind with bliss and letting her think she could have it before she gave him what he’d asked for.

“Emma,” he said, his voice playful but somehow still growly, showing her that he was still in control but that it was slipping. Much as he might play in these moments, Killian was just as caught up as her, and he could only last so long before giving in. Lucky for him though, she always seemed to cave first.

“Love me, Killian. Taste me. Take me. Anything, please!”

She heard a mumbled ‘as you wish’ pass his lips before he continued devouring her, making her come apart with the mastery of his mouth. He then gave her just enough time to return to herself, and when she’d finally felt like the world stopped spinning, he came back above her and filled him with himself in such a deep and consuming way she almost couldn’t breathe. It was so good and so real, and when it was over it felt in some ways like it had only just begun. The love was strong between them, anchoring her to a happiness no money could ever bye, and Emma sighed into it, reveling in the sensation that everything was as it should be.  

Tucked into his chest and protected by his hold on her, Emma nuzzled into her fiancé, taking in the scent of the two of them together. It was intoxicating and comforting all at once, much like the familiar press of his hard body against hers. This was her most sacred space, the place her heart felt truly free, and she was so grateful to have found it that tears formed in her eyes.

“Was I too hard with you, my love?” Killian asked, though she knew he knew that wasn’t the answer.

“Never. You’re always just right.”

“Then what’s brought on those tears?”

“Can’t a girl just be so happy that she cries a little?” Emma asked, sniffling a bit before she broke into a smile. Killian chuckled at her joke and she responded in kind as her hand came to rest above his heart. “I know it sounds stupid -,”

“Not at all, Emma. It sounds like exactly what I’ll always want for us. This feeling – this love, this joy – it’s what we’ve been meant for. Before we were two lost souls, and now we’re one that’s found. That’s a beautiful thing.”

Emma nodded, humming out a contented noise almost like a purr at his words before watching Killian’s hand move over to where their baby was now growing. It was too soon for anything like a kick from their little one, but Emma swore she felt a little flutter, a reminder that their little boy or girl was with them always. “Well technically we’re one with one on the way.”

“As per usual you are right, love. And it’s only a matter of time before one becomes more…”

“So is this the kind of thing that’s going to fade after the wedding, or what?”

The question from Anna was teasing in nature, but it pulled Emma back so forcefully from her remembrance of last night with Killian that she actually jolted in place. God, she had totally left the building mentally. She was reliving a private moment with her man, but in actuality her friends were here, organizing the different dishes they’d made and snacks they brought to this impromptu cook out. Emma felt her cheeks warm, but though she might be flustered, she couldn’t say she was embarrassed. She loved Killian too much to have anything like shame as far as he was concerned, but in an ideal world she might not have let her mind wander quite so far when she was with friends who were needing her attention.

“No way. She’s going to look this smitten forever,” Ruby countered, her smirk signaling her amusement while also telling Emma she harbored no resentment to Emma’s blanking out. “But as bad as she is, my cousin’s even worse. Killian will be as old as the day is long and still staring at Emma like she hangs the moon.”

“Guys.” Emma wished she had a comeback or something, but there was none to be found. They weren’t wrong, after all. She was smitten, and though she might have been known for her poker face once upon a time, those days were largely gone. Anyone could read her feelings now, blush or not, and what they read was that she was in love.

“What? It’s not a bad thing, Emma,” Anna affirmed. “God knows you both deserve it. And it’s really… uh, sweet.”

“You don’t sound so convinced,” Emma replied and she was curious as to Anna’s new perspective on things. She thought her friend was happy for her, and she could tell she was, but there was something a little off with her today.

“Don’t mind, Anna, she’s just impatient,” Elsa said, trying to smooth everything over. “She wants her own shifter soul mate, and you know how she feels about waiting.”

“It’s not the waiting,” Anna said sternly before yielding the truth. “Okay, so it’s partially about the waiting. But really it’s just… I mean, I’m worried. What if he never comes? What if there’s only so much of this cute, cuddly, couply stuff to go around?”

“Not a chance,” Emma said, completely certain on this matter. “There’s no way your one isn’t out there Anna. Shifter or not, you’re going to find the man you belong with. He’s just a little delayed.”

“A little?” Anna asked, and the rest of them laughed. Anna made it seem like it had been an eternity, but Emma had only known Killian a few months and Elsa and Ruby had only known Liam and Graham a handful of weeks.

“Think of it this way,” Elsa offered. “It’s just one more thing you’ll have in common. I mean honestly, when was the last time you made it to anything on time?”

Anna grumbled that her sister made a good point and all of them laughed again at her feigned annoyance. It was so typically Anna, and now that she’d gotten what Emma knew to be very real worries out there, she would let it be for now. Anna was always good about that. She knew that giving oneself over to anxiety was a lost cause, and until there was really need to panic, it was best to look on the bright side, and right now, there were admittedly many pieces of all of their lives that were bright and beautiful.

That beauty was something that didn’t just belong to Emma. Ruby and Elsa had equally as much cause for joy and they both were eager to share their similar yet very different stories. At one end of the new-mates spectrum there were Elsa and Liam, who were bonded and blissful together, but still taking things step by step. They neither of them had any need to move quickly, instead getting to know each other better even though their hearts were already intertwined. On the other end of the mate measurement scale were Ruby and Graham, two shifters who had always known their animals and their destinies, and who, as a result, had no fear diving in.

“Graham told me this morning that he’s getting me pregnant next full moon.”

“He said what?!” Anna barked out, her hand flying over her heart in shock.

“How could he know?” Elsa asked, and though she was less visibly stunned at the words, Emma saw the trace of a blush on her cheeks. It made Emma smile, and she wondered how many times she and Liam might have spoken of something similar. Because no matter how slow they were taking things, Emma knew there was no way something like that had gone unsaid. Liam was all in, and he never made any attempt to hide that from her friend.

“He doesn’t,” Ruby said with a shrug. “But damn if it won’t be amazing letting him try.”

“As if you aren’t already trying,” Emma joked and Ruby chuckled.

“What can I say? When you’re right, you’re right. I love that man. He’s mine and I’m his and I’ll be damned if we don’t have our three babies that my visions and my dreams always promised.”

“I wish I had those kinds of dreams,” Anna said wistfully, and though Elsa nodded, Emma could see something in her best friend’s eyes that hinted at something larger.

“Me too.”

“You’ll get there, Elsa. These nightmares will pass.”

“You’re having nightmares again?” Emma asked, surprised since this was the first she’d heard of it. She assumed Elsa’s nightmares were a thing of the past. The reason for them had always presumably been Liam being out there searching for Killian, and when Liam found his way here, they had stopped.

“It’s probably nothing, just unsettled stress. A lot has happened, and my brain is just catching up.”

“And what exactly is your brain telling you while it catches up?” Emma pushed, waiting for Elsa to meet her eye and then confess to her.

“Well honestly it’s hard to explain. The dreams are choppy and kind of manic.”

“So kind of like the one’s about Liam?” Emma clarified.

“Sort of, but they’re worse. There’s more anger and there’s always this sense of hunting or being hunted. Sometimes I’m the prey and sometimes I’m the predator, but in the end it always ends the same, with my heart about to beat out of my chest, my body worked up in a cold sweat, and everything flashing to red.”

“That’s what I haven’t been able to make out,” Ruby said, and it was clear that she had previously interrogated Elsa thoroughly about these dreams. “I looked through my family’s spells and journals, and Elsa looked through hers, but red is actually a pretty rare color when it comes to magic, and the sentiments around it are varied. Red birds in the trees are a sign of good luck and red soil a sign of new harvest, but then there’s the obvious connotations too when it’s something bad like this.”

“Blood,” Emma whispered. Elsa nodded.

“But it’s brighter than blood. It’s bold but terrible, heightened and horrifying. It’s everywhere in the dreams. In the rivers, in the sunlight, in their eyes.”

“They have red eyes?” Emma responded, her stomach sinking to new lows as her sense of foreboding built astronomically.

“Yes. They’re like -,”

“Like Liam’s at his breaking point, but scarlet and full.”

“Yes,” Elsa hedged, though the raising of her brow told Emma that she was perplexed at how she could know that. “But I’ve looked through all I could find in my family’s archives and there’s no accounts of shifters with eyes like that. The closest is a copper color for lions, but that’ not what this is.”

“No they’re far less natural. Like you took red ink and exposed it to something chemical. I’ve never seen anything else like it.”

“But Emma how did you…?”

“When I was attacked in Boston by that shifter, it had red eyes just like that, remember? I told you about it.”

“You told me there were two wolves fighting over you,” Elsa clarified, her face betraying the current wracking of her memory for some sort of lost clue. “You said they were giant and that there was one that was good and one bad. You said it was terrifying, but I don’t remember anything about their eyes.”

Was it possible that Emma had never mentioned the color of their eyes to Elsa? Looking back, it would have felt like a small detail to her when compared to everything else. She’d almost been killed by one giant wolf and then promptly saved by another. At the time Emma also felt like she was going crazy. She’d literally written it off as a mental break for years, so it stood to reason that maybe she might have let this detail slip by. But this detail, however tiny it might have seemed back then, was too big a similarity to be purely coincidental.

“Wait,” Anna said, holding her hand up as she tried to catch up. “So what you’re saying is a wolf had red eyes like Elsa’s dream? But how could that be?”

“That’s an excellent question,” Emma admitted. “But I think the bigger question is how likely is it that these are only dreams and not actual visions?”

They all knew the answer to that, and with a quick agreement that this wasn’t something that could wait, they all headed outside. Emma was eager to get this out there and see if maybe they could all figure this out. She had spoken before with Killian about that night, but maybe he had more insight into what was wrong with that other shifter. Was there something more than the eyes and the aggression? They needed to know, and they needed to know now.

As soon as she was out of the house, Killian’s gaze found hers, and without a word she knew he was aware something was wrong. Her mind was open to his, and she read that he was concerned about Elsa’s dreams, so she pushed to him that they were more than just dreams, and that as such this was a way bigger issue than a little lack of sleep.

“They’re visions. Definitely visions,” she said as she took comfort in his arms. It helped a lot to be with him, but Emma would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared. Damn it! Were things always going to be like this? They get past one big battle just to trade it in for another?

“Aye, so it would seem,” Killian said and his affirmation made Emma close her eyes. She wished she could go back to a few hours ago. Okay maybe not the wedding planning part, but definitely last night or early this morning. Things were so good. Why, oh why, did they have to get so wonky?

“So much for normal, huh?”

This time Killian didn’t need to say any words aloud. He commiserated with her on a deeper level, keeping her wrapped up tight and pressing a kiss to her temple. It was soft and subtle, but it told Emma that he was here and here to stay, and whether life was normal or not, they would get through this just like they had everything before.

“Normal or not, what we need right now is the full story,” Liam said, taking charge in a way Emma recognized as being similar to his brother. “If there are red-eyed shifters in our path somehow, we need everyone on the same page.”

Emma agreed and the group of them all moved back to the patio where Emma’s parents, her grandmother and Granny had remained. For a moment Emma felt a bit of guilt. Right now her family was laughing and happy, all of them smiling and looking really relaxed. Maybe it was lingering planning for the wedding, or just a pure moment of contentment, but whatever the reason for their joy, Emma was about to change that. They were all going to take that from them, and Emma wished that didn’t have to be the case.

“They want to help, love, and I promise we’ll all be back to that state very soon. We’ve a wedding coming up after all, and nothing, not storm, nor man, nor beast is going to keep us from that, all right?”

Emma nodded before whispering that she loved him and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. She felt enough comfort from his promise to push forward, and though it broke her heart to see the moment when her parents and grandmother realized something was wrong, she persevered.

“Emma, honey, what’s wrong?” her mother asked.

“Are you hurt?” her father echoed, immediately standing up and coming towards her.

“No, Dad I’m fine. But Elsa’s been having some visions lately and we all need to be on our guard.”

From there the explanation rolled out as best it could. Emma and Killian spoke candidly about the original attacks, knowing that everyone had varying levels of information about what had happened. Even Emma learned more than she had about Killian’s perception on the other rogue and how the animal was possessed and totally transformed.

“There was no pushing through to his mind. No sense of self, no coherent thought,” Killian explained, his face stony though Emma could tell the memory still rattled him all these years later. “The wolf was manic and brutal and clearly unhinged. I thought of Brennan, because it was the only other time that everything felt wrong about a fellow shifter, but it was different enough that I let it slide. His smell was foul up close, his manners were jerky and heightened. I remember wondering if shifters could get rabies as well as ‘the bite’, because that’s the only think I could think to compare it to.”

“I can’t believe you both went through that,” Emma’s mother said, with tears in her eyes. She was no doubt still eaten up by the guilt of not being there for Emma all those years ago. They’d come to terms with this already, and spoken about it for the most part when Emma told them of Killian’s shifter status, but it probably never got easier as a parent to hear that your child had been in real danger.

“I’ve never heard of a shifter acting like that,” her father said, combing through his medical experience and the countless interactions he’s had with shifters over the years. “Shifters are immune to rabies; they regenerate and heal so quickly that an outside parasite or virus never survives long enough for it to get too bad. The only real sickness I’ve heard of is the one that you’ve both seen.”

Her father looked to Killian and Liam and it went without saying that the sickness in question was alpha sickness. For her part, Emma quietly considered the similarities. That rage and aggression, the want to attack when not actually provoked or threatened. It lined up in some ways, but she’d never seen someone with alpha sickness so out of control. Killian’s stories and memories of his father showed a twisted soul, but the man ultimately had control over himself when he wanted to display it. For Liam too he wasn’t so far gone as to have nothing left, but the wolf they had seen was anchorless, completely consumed with madness in a way that Emma had never experienced before.

“How similar was it to the bite, brother?” Liam asked, his voice clogged with his own twisting emotions.

“In your case? Not so similar. You always held onto who Liam was even with the beast inside. No, this wolf, was completely gone. Like the human and the shifter were erased. It was just animal – feral, primal, and unstoppable. The red of its eyes tells you that too – like the bloodlust of such a being physically cannot be concealed.”

“David, do any shifter species you know of have red eyes?”

“We’ve run through the lists, Mary Margaret,” Ruby said somberly. “Elsa and I each checked our family archives and there’s nothing like this mentioned.”

“Not to devalue the works of your family in any way, honey, but David has been doing this a long time and he has secrets and knowledge a coven of witches could go forever without ever amassing. Species of shifters long thought extinct, other paranormal who’ve kept their whole existence a secret, David has treated them and protected them all.”

“Is this true, Dad?” Emma asked and her father nodded.

“It’s true. I knew a lot as a hunter, but I know at least three times as much now. I probably have a grasp on any magic-adjacent species in the States. Now I’m sure you’ve ruled out mountain lions. You can rule out all the big cats, none of them are really all that red. Is there any chance they eyes are an auburn color? Dingo shifters have auburn eyes. It might explain why you thought it was a wolf.”

“Dingos, like Australia?” Anna asked, temporarily forgetting the crisis at hand and giving into the curiosity they were all sensing.

“Yes, Anna. Remember this is America. We’ve got people and shifters from all over the world. The melting pot exists for all species.”

Emma and Anna shared a look about how awesome that was, but unfortunately it wasn’t the time, and even worse her father’s insight hadn’t actually given them any answers.

“They weren’t auburn. They’re scarlet red, and this was definitely a wolf.”

“Well I’m sorry then, I don’t have any knowledge of a color like that,” David said sadly.

“But I might,” Emma’s grandmother replied, shocking everyone. “I’ve seen a shifter with eyes like that too.”

“Where?” they all asked at once.

“Gold’s compound.”

“I’m sorry… what?” Ruby’s shocked question pretty much summed up exactly how Emma felt at hearing this revelation.

“Gold had a shifter like that in his collection, with red eyes just like you’re describing. I’m sure of it.”

Ruth’s expression took on a pained quality as she recalled the animal in question, and Emma’s heart went out to her. It was hard to tell what exactly brought on the bad feelings. Was it related to this sickened shifter? Or was it all the unknown horror she’d experienced while in Gold’s clutches? Emma didn’t know for sure, but having had the pleasure of getting to know her grandmother recently, Emma knew of her profound empathy. While Ruth was likely suffering her own mental wounds at Gold’s hands, it wouldn’t be outlandish to think that she felt badly for not saving any other beings that might remain in the dark man’s clutches.

“Mom, you don’t have to talk about this,” Emma’s father said, knowing that it would be so difficult for his mother to go back to the headspace. She’d been trapped, and likely experimented on for years. It was invasive and wrong and terrible, but Ruth shook her head, looking determined to tell them all she knew.

“I appreciate you wanting to spare me, son, but if I can help protect this family, then that’s exactly what I aim to do. What do you all want to know?”

“Anything,” Killian said at the same time Elsa pleaded, “Everything.”

“Okay then. Well it was quick, so there isn’t too much to share, really. When I woke up, I struggled to put together what the hell was going on. I was in a room with a lot of trinkets and a lot of clutter, as I’ve told you all before, but amongst all the stuff, oh god, how do I put this delicately? There were, um… displays, I guess you could call them. Exhibits, maybe? All I know is Gold had taken the time to stage a lot of things, and it was clear I wasn’t the only living being that was being held against my will. I was the only human though, at least the only recognizable one, but I saw a lot of things I didn’t understand, and it scared me. I think it’s because as a descendent of hunters I thought I already knew everything the world had to offer. I was in on the big secret, you know? There shouldn’t have been more out there.”

Emma watched her Dad holding his Mom’s hand, offering her support. He swallowed harshly a number of times and it was clearly hard to hear this. It was hard for all of them, but as much as they never wanted to push before, her Grandmother’s memories could be critical for figuring out what the hell these red eyed beasts even were.

“Eventually though I realized that something had happened. I wasn’t supposed to be awake. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, and all I could think was I had to get out. I immediately tried to focus on finding a door or an exit, but I knew Gold must have some sort of mechanisms in place to keep track of his treasures. I kept an eye out for motion sensors or obvious magical fields that might give me away, but I didn’t see any. There were a couple of glowing items or ones that had strange energy if you got too close, so I just avoided them. I walked through this maze of stuff, and then when I got up and moved towards the door, I heard it. A low, menacing snarl that stopped me in my tracks.

“When I looked to the first real open space in the place I saw it – a huge bear, grizzly I think, but it could have just been brown. Either way, I panicked. I couldn’t see any sort of bars separating us and then it charged at me, and all I could see was its glowing red eyes. I’d never seen a bear shifter before, though, so I didn’t know if that was normal. I’d only seen wolves, coyotes, and the occasional mountain lion where I grew up. My brother, George, had mentioned bears before. He told me they were some of the strongest shifters in the world, and that a full-grown grizzly shifter could take down ten unsuspecting humans in under a minute.”

“So how did you get away?” Emma asked, thinking of how terrifying that must have been. The wolf she saw was huge, but bears would be even larger, and with red eyes like that? She honestly couldn’t understand how her grandmother could still be here.

“Right before it reached me, it hit a magical barrier, bouncing off of it hard. But what I noticed was the force field had the same red tint, but with almost a gold finish. It dissolved eventually, but I saw the depths of it and they were the same scarlet color as the eyes looking back at me.”

“Do you think that means something?” Emma asked Ruby and Ruby nodded.

“Magic manifests in different colors, but most witches have a certain signature finish. The gold probably means Gold himself cast the spell. It would better explain his name for sure.”

“But the magic itself was red. Is that common?” Emma asked and Ruby shook her head.

“No. I told you all before red is a rare color in the magical world. The only spells that are a deep and enduring red involve blood magic. Rituals, sacrifices, curses, that kind of thing. They manifest as a crimson color, but there are dark forces being used. The color comes from the blood needed for the magic itself, but from what I’ve read it’s exactly how you’ve all described the eyes so far. God, now it all makes sense! The shifters with the red eyes must be cursed with some sort of magic. I’ve just never heard of any magic used on shifters like that and lasting long term. Shifters tend to have a lot of immunity to spells. It’s like David talked about with illness. We don’t stay cursed for long because our bodies flush whatever is harmful from our systems. It would have to be an insanely strong charm. Gold alone couldn’t cast it.”

“So what are you saying?” Killian asked and Ruby shook her head, like she was trying to sift through her thoughts in a way that made sense even to her.

“I’m saying that this is way bigger than we thought. If it’s magic that’s causing this, it would have to involve the power of dozens of witches.”

“So there’s a whole fleet of bad guys to take down right now, at least if we want to stop these cursed shifters?” Emma clarified, her fear and dread amplifying to an even higher degree.

“Not necessarily. Technically Gold could have taken the magic from other witches in one of his transactions. If he made a deal with a witch, he could collect their powers to use at his own discretion.”

“Could he take magic from pixies or sprites, or is this just a witch to witch thing?” David asked and Ruby looked shocked before stuttering her reply.

“They still exist?” Emma watched her father nod. “Well then yes, technically any magic wielding being could be harvested. Dark magic like that is tricky though. It’s dangerous and untethering. If Gold has managed to do that, he’s so much more of a risk than any of us have ever known.”

“Is that what you see though, Ruby? Because hearing all of this hasn’t given me total clarity like it usually would,” Elsa confessed. “Certain parts make sense – there’s definitely magic tied into this somehow - but I feel like if Gold were so all-powerful I’d have sensed him. He’s never been in the dreams, it’s always just been the animals and me. I don’t know… it just doesn’t feel quite right.”

Everyone took Elsa’s words with all of the care and attention that they deserved. After all, Elsa was the vessel for any of their awareness of what might be coming their way. Her instincts were second to none, and Emma knew that even if it wasn’t all adding up, she would always side with Elsa’s gut over another theory. Still, it was best for all of them to be prepared for any scenario and to do everything they could to find out more.

The conversation continued with everyone trying to think of what they could do next. Who could they consult, and where could they look for answers? It was a tricky thing, but it seemed their only real lead for now was Gold. But before Emma could get pulled into the logistics of tracking him down, her phone rang, chiming out the sound of an incoming video call. Strange – nearly everyone she ever spoke with on the phone was here, but then Emma saw it was her little brother calling and she grew even more curious. He was coming home from camp in just a few more days and he didn’t usually call her, especially not when there were activities keeping him and the other campers busy all day. Immediately she could sense something was wrong.

“Hi Neal, you doing ok?” Emma asked as the call connected, but when her brother’s face appeared, she could tell he was troubled by something.

“I don’t know, Emma. Something really weird just happened. Some random guy came up to me just now outside.”

“Where are you, are you safe?” Emma asked before waving her parents over to her. When her Mother saw Emma’s little brother on the screen, she grew immediately more agitated.

“I’m back in the main building again, in a room next to our robotics lab. I told my counselor I had to talk to you and she said it was okay to come in here for a few minutes.”

“What happened?” Emma asked.

“Well, I was walking back from our room for our afternoon session with Jackson,” Emma looked to her father who mouthed ‘roommate’ to her. “But then Jackson forgot his ipad and had to run back for it. I kept walking so I wouldn’t be late, and a few moments later this older guy came up to me and just started talking. It was like he was waiting for me; he knew my name and everything.”

“What did he try to talk to you about?”

“About you and me.” She and Neal? What the hell?!

“What did he say exactly?” Her father asked and Neal recited the conversation back with authority.

“He said, ‘I’ve wondered a long while what you would be like.’ I told him I had to go because I got a bad feeling from him, but he stood in my path and wouldn’t move. I was going to call for help or something, but there was suddenly no one around, and then he just kept talking. He said I was meant to be ‘unyielding and unfailing,’ that I should have been a ‘true Nolan hunter if I wasn’t what I was’ whatever that means.”

“Did he say anything else?” Emma asked, not following what they’re being descended from hunters had to do with anything here. Gold knew of that obviously, because of the deal he made with her grandmother, but was that really relevant somehow?

“Yeah, he said that you and I were meant for so much more. Then he talked about my getting sick – I don’t know exactly what he was getting at, it didn’t all make sense. He was kind of talking in circles, and I didn’t follow him at all. But the last thing he said was that you, Emma, were the last hope but that you made the wrong choice.”

Emma was so frazzled as to all of this that she didn’t know how to process anything that was said. Who the heck was this person? And most importantly, was it safe for Neal to stay there anymore? She didn’t think so, and neither did her Dad who ducked into the house, coming out a moment later with his keys in hand after her Mom had taken over the call, trying to get details about what the man looked like.

“Neal, I want you to stay with your counselor no matter what. If that man comes back you call the police immediately. I’m coming to get you, I’ll be there soon.”

“Dad it’s okay, I’m fine,” her brother said, but Emma wasn’t so sure. He looked really relieved at the thought of their Dad coming to get him.

“No, Neal, we’re coming,” Emma’s mother confirmed. “I know it’s a few days early, but it’s for the best. Now please can you bring the phone to your counselor, I’d like to talk to her.”

While her mother continued to talk to whoever was in charge at Neal’s program, Emma and her father moved to the others. They were quickly filled in that there had been an incident, but Emma was surprised by her father’s response to it all. “Killian, Liam, and Graham, I’d feel better if you all came with us.”

“Are you sure, David? If it’s Gold one of the girls should go,” her grandmother offered. “Elsa or Ruby would be better able to track him.”

“No, Mom. This isn’t Gold. It’s George.”

“David, you can’t possibly know that-,”

“Why do you think it’s your Uncle?” Emma asked, ignoring her grandmother’s protest because she knew it stemmed more from fear than any actual proof. All it took was one look in grandma Ruth’s direction to know that the mention of her brother truly rattled her.

“It’s the way he talked about the hunters. He used a closely guarded family phrase, one even you don’t know, Mom. Gold wouldn’t ever have access to that because they weren’t even in your memories. It has to be George, and if he’s come for my son, I need the strongest people with us, just in case.”

“Okay, I told Neal’s counselor there’s been a family emergency and warned her that your Uncle might come back but that he’s not a stable man.”

“You knew it was him?” Emma asked and her mother nodded.

“He used the Nolan words.”

Emma should have known that her father would never have secrets from her mother. Of course she knew everything, and Mary Maragert’s memory was a great and powerful thing. But whatever her mother’s many strengths may be, she was ill fit for the quarrel and Emma’s father told her that, remaining adamant that she not come.  

“You need to stay here, Mary Margaret.”

“David, I am not staying here! We are going to get our son and that’s that.”

“No it isn’t. I will get Neal, I promise you I will protect him from this, but I need to know you and Emma are safe. The house is prepared for a situation like this. I didn’t know if he’d ever find us, but I planned it out just in case. We’ll be back in just a few hours, but I can’t -,” her father’s voice broke in anguish. “I can’t risk you or Emma coming along for this. It’s too dangerous.”

Emma fully expected her mother to rebuke this request from her Dad, but there was no denying that David was doing everything in his power to protect them. Ultimately Emma trusted her Dad. If he said that her Uncle was threatening, she believed him, and though she hated to stay behind and wait, she also knew that being there would make her a liability. She was still a new shifter and she was too close to this emotionally. And her mother, bright and capable as she may be, was human, with no training and no powers to fall back on.

“You bring our boy back to me, David. You bring him back, and you bring yourself back. There’s no other option. This family will stay together, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he replied, pulling Mary Margaret in for a quick kiss and sharing a silent moment with her. At the same time Killian took Emma’s hand in his, drawing her attention back to him. Her heart leapt into her throat. She was worried about how dangerous this might be, but the look in his eyes was completely assured and steadfast.

“I’ll be back before you even have chance to miss me,” Killian whispered and Emma shook her head, fending off tears caused by her lingering anxiety.

“Not possible,” she replied pulling him in by the cloth of his shirt. “Be safe, okay?”

“Always, love.”

With a last gentle kiss, Emma watched her mate, her father, and the others leave, knowing that she wouldn’t feel even a shred of peace until they were back again. Looking to Elsa and Ruby, she knew they felt similarly, but her mother was the one hurting the most. The tears Emma had tried to fight spilled over on her mother’s cheeks, but Mary Margaret wiped them away quickly, unwilling to give into the riotous emotions. Emma did the only thing she could think to make it better, she hugged her Mom and made a promise of her own.

“It’s going to be okay, Mom. I love you”

“I love you too, Emma. Always, always, always.”

With that, there was nothing left to do but wait and trust that everything would be okay in the end, and in the meantime they all had many questions still to answer. With three new threats on the horizon and no way of knowing who or what might strike first, they were all at a standstill. That was debilitating, but it also motivated all of them to stand together and try to fight the only way they could – through scouring their memories and resources for clues.

………………….

Standing in the clearing he’d scoped out on the edge of this all-too-quaint town of Storybrooke, he couldn’t help but feel like victory was already in his grasp. The plan was perfect and the stage was set. It was nearly time for resolution after so many years of waiting, and he grinned at the thought that the light and the hopeful magic surrounding this place would soon be extinguished. Gone were the days of peace and calm in this little town in Maine. A reckoning was here, and he would be the one to bring it.

The buzzing of his phone alerted him to the call he was awaiting. He hated these blasted things, but now and then they served their purpose. He answered without preface, only seeking one answer of any merit. “Is it done?”

“Yes. It went exactly as you said it would.”

“Good.”

Hanging up, he broke the phone into pieces and tossed it in the shallow waters of the river bed beside him. He had no use for it anymore. All he had to do was wait. A little more time and they’d be in the clear, a little more time and the moment he’d yearned for would truly arrive.

Waiting in the silence would phase many others, but he didn’t think of them as he stood there in the quiet. They were nothing to him, lacking in vision and smarts and everything that made him worthy. It was him and him alone with the power and the brains to complete this. He may have made some deals along the way, but the glory of this would belong to him. The pride he felt at that was all he clung to, and he disregarded any past missteps that led him here. This was a war and not a battle, and thanks to the element of surprise, he was certain that this war was about to end decidedly in his favor.

“It’s time,” he said aloud finally, knowing no one could here him, save the monster in his keep. With assured movements he walked to the cage where the beast resided, looking the bear in the eyes with another wicked grin. “Find the girl and her companions. Spare none of them, and when that’s over take the rest of the town as well.”

With one last burst of locks and mechanisms, the bear was freed and looked liable to let out a loud roar and charge its master, but the collar that it wore restricted that urge. It compelled this animal to do what it was meant for, and with a last menacing look, the bear charged in the direction of the Nolans and their extended brood, destined to cause a destruction the likes that none of them had ever seen before.  

Post- Note: I know that so many of you are going to be so mad at me for this cliff hanger and trust me, I am just as mad at myself! But there’s so much that has to happen it can’t all fit in one chapter. I PROMISE there will be resolution in the next installment, and I also promise that you’ll forgive me in the end for this. However, truthfully I’m not fully sure when the next chapter will be published. It’s so hectic right now with school and my traveling that I have still a little more writing and editing to do before I actually post. But please trust that I will do my best to get you the next chapter and put you all out of your misery ASAP. Thank you so much for reading and hope you’ll tune in next time!

Taglist: @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @teamhook @ultraluckycatnd @resident-of-storybrooke @artistic-writer @snowbellewells @allofdafandoms-blog

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 14 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

BODY AND SOUL MASTERPOST

Author’s Note: I think this is the longest chapter yet; there was so much I wanted to see through Kenzie’s eyes here. For those of you who live for tiny details like I do: this is Duncan’s pepper mill. These are his glass coffee mugs. This is his beard oil. This is the dress Kenzie wears on this day. Harris is an Axeman/Danny Huston AU; mostly a Danny AU, as I promise he is not an axe murderer in this universe. I just love Danny and thought he’d make a perfect bodyguard, he’s huge and he will lay hands on anyone who tries to touch Kenzie, amen, Expect him regularly for the rest of this story. Duncan’s grandmother Adelaide is a Fiona Goode/Jessica Lange AU. Here’s WHATEVER LOLA WANTS. Here’s the photo of Carrie I based the one in Kenzie’s bathroom mirror on; her clothing is different, but that’s the expression I imagine she has in it. Golden Pothos look like this and make good indoor plants as they need very-little-to-no sunlight. Nancy Pearlstein’s boutique relish is real, but I took some creative liberties (the back room where Nancy put the rack for Kenzie is made up, and I have no idea what Nancy is like in real life; I made up a personality for her here, though her appearance is genuine) and found the model clothing for Kenzie’s shopping on Neiman Marcus’ website--her comment that Kenzie’s like a little piece of cake I borrowed from a similar line in Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette. This is the dress Duncan and Kenzie ultimately decide on for the dinner with Annette (soon to come); here are the others Kenzie liked the most: 1, 2, 3, and the red one that sends Duncan over the edge (don’t worry, she’ll get a chance to wear it soon): 4.  The way Kenzie hoists herself onto the counter to reach the cabinet is the way I hoist myself onto our counter to reach the extra coffee k-cups at the top of the cabinet. Here are Duncan’s champagne coupes. Kenzie and Claire dancing to Seven Wonders is obviously a nod to Stevie’s iconic music video towards the end of Coven. I wanted to mention that I plan to upload the entire fic to AO3 when it’s finished; Tumblr’s tags algorithm is absolute shit when it comes to fics, and this one continually will not show up under them for whatever godforsaken reason, so I’ve kind of given up on reaching a wider audience for it here, but I also feel strongly that I want it to be done before I put it up there so as not to be influenced too much by other people’s thoughts or desires regarding my story; I love all the feedback I’ve gotten from those of you who are following along, but I do want to stay true to my own objectives. Those of you who continue to shower it with love: I see you. You are absolutely the best. Mackenzie and Annette will finally meet in the next chapter. 

“You should put something up on this wall,” Kenzie said, staring at the blank stretch along the corner where the boxes of her belongings were neatly stacked in Duncan’s room (my room, I can’t believe it yet, my room too), sitting cross-legged on Duncan’s bed (my bed), her back to him. Duncan’s left hand was falling along Kenzie’s back, gently rubbing, feeling the rise of her under the tee-shirt with the tips of his fingers, his face turned down to his phone’s glowing screen in his right.

“We should. You live here now, baby, this is your space too.”

Kenzie swung her legs down and went over to the boxes; she was wearing the Led Zeppelin tee again (mine now, smiling to herself), her damp hair, brushed out, over her shoulder. She leaned down and opened one, looking for the telltale greenery of her little plants and succulents; this box had some of her jewelry boxes and lots of pairs of socks and stockings in it. She moved to the next one, letting out a little delighted “aha!”, pulling out one of her falling sedum morganianum in its little terra cotta pot from the box, cradling it in her hands, standing, gazing down at it happily for a moment.

“I didn’t tell Momby I’m moving in here,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to Duncan, who was propped up against the slats of the headboard with his black pillows between his back and the wall, one of his bare legs outside of the cover up to his thigh, slightly raised, his chest bare and rising slowly, contentedly, damp hair on his forehead. He was still looking down at his slender black iPhone, smiling at something now. He looked up at her, the smile playing there still. So beautiful. Archangel. Hades. My dark Prince.

“It’s fine, baby. You’ll tell her when you feel ready to tell her. I understand. Everything is going to be fine...because we’re together, and that’s what matters.”

Kenzie smiled across the room at him; then she shivered a little, cheeks warm, remembering the flashes of thought she had imagined she heard from him before and during their passionate fucking; If I’m a Prince, you’re a Goddess, and I will go to your temple to lay down all my sorrows and my sins and my fear, and all my devotion...

How could I have heard his thoughts, though, she wondered again. Could that have been me pretending to hear his thoughts? Why would I do that? Why would I call myself a goddess?...are we really hearing each other’s thoughts? How the fuck is that even possible? I can’t even think about this right now, I don’t understand how that could happen...that’s just...impossible.

“What are you looking at, baby?” She asked him, pushing the thought away, stepping to the bed on her bare feet. She set the succulent carefully on the nightstand on her side (my side, my fucking side, my side of the bed, oh my god) of the bed, and Duncan pouted a little at her, his mouth turning down at the corners. “I want one on my side too,” he said, his voice sweet and low and tingling at the back of her head. She leaned down over the bed to kiss him; he lifted his mouth up to her, hand falling into her damp hair; then she picked the succulent up and walked around to his side, setting it carefully next to his smooth alarm clock. “There, no more whining.” He laughed a little, reaching out and brushing the succulent’s spindly, bulbous leaves gently, then lifted the screen of his phone up to her eyes.

Duncan had the Instagram app open on it, and on his profile he’d just posted a photo: oh my god, a photo of me, Kenzie gasped a little, snatching it out of his hands as he continued to grin at her with his perfect teeth, a misbehaving sheen in his blue eyes. Yep, that’s me. Duncan had clearly taken it a moment ago when she’d been looking at her succulent; her head was turned down and her damp hair fell around her face, a little smile around her mouth, her eyes gazing at the plant clutched in her hands, the big Led Zeppelin shirt falling off one of her shoulders, its hem at the middle of her thigh, bare legs stretching down out of the photo. My love @kenzielouwho and our little plant baby, he’d typed, adding the little sprouting green leaf emoji at the end and the double-pink hearts.

“Oh my god, baby,” she breathed, unable to conceal the grin that fell across her face, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, gazing down at the photo, dazed. He’d posted it only a moment ago; it had already racked up 1,200 likes and hundreds of comments...that she dared not look at. “Everyone is gonna freak the fuck out. Your mom is gonna kill you.”

“I guess I’ll die happy, then,” he answered, and reached for her, grabbing onto the hem of the tee-shirt, pulling her against him, burying his face in the space between her little breasts through the fabric, wrapping his long arms around her. “...I just want everyone to know.” She felt his lips press against her as he murmured the last part into the fabric, his eyes closed, breathing her in, and Kenzie was filled to the brim with a delicate tenderness for him, terrible in its softness, bringing a lump into her throat. “Oh, baby,” she whispered. “I do, too.” They stayed that way for a moment, his arms around her, his face pressed into her body, her hand coming up and falling through his hair, still holding his phone in her other one; I love his hair, I love it so, like the sheen of coppery autumn leaves, the warm, dark embers of a fading fire, the way he smells, like wood and jasmine soap and musky smoke...

After the quiet stretch, Duncan lifted his eyes up to her; they were like the sky after a storm, gray shot with bursts of brilliant blue. “Should we get the rest of your things tomorrow? I can clear my schedule. I don’t want you to go to your apartment alone, bodyguard or no. I want to help.”

“Okay. I’ll email Candice I need to work from home tomorrow. My article’s done anyway. I was thinking we could have Claire over for dinner--I miss her, and I’d love for her to see the penthouse.”

“That sounds perfect.” He let go of her and she slipped his phone back into his large palm, sliding the underside of her hand against his, his eyes flickering over her face. “I already contacted the security detail service, they’re sending someone over here tomorrow morning. If you don’t like them, we’ll find someone else, okay? We’ll find the perfect person. And it’ll only be for a little while, this will calm down soon--I’m sure of it.”

“You making Instagram posts like that isn’t going to calm anyone down anytime soon, babe.” Kenzie grinned, though, feeling the smile dissolve down into her body, making her shiver; she picked her phone up from the nightstand (it was on his side) and opened her email, sending a few lines out to Candice, setting the phone down again, willing herself not to look at Instagram. “...But I do want everyone to know that you’re mine. Prince Duncan Shepherd and his pauper mistress.”

“Kenzie, no. Don’t call yourself that.” His eyes went dark, a frown creasing his beautiful face, a shadow falling across him. “You belong here. You, beside me. This is your world now, too. Everything I have is yours. Anything you want. Everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Kenzie said nothing, suddenly feeling frozen under that gaze; so sure, as definite as the expanse of some ancient wilderness, some high mountain peak, the depth of some unutterable ocean. You truly are my Dark Prince of the Underworld, she thought. You have such depth, a well of hidden light, but you can be terrible, terrible in your beauty, terrible in your resolve, terrible in your determination, and in your will. Like a King. Like a God of Hidden Places, a God of Gold, the God of a Shadowed Realm, your crown heavy, your eyes like blue flames.

“I was telling Madeline something important tonight, Kenzie, while you were in the bathroom.” Duncan planted his feet on the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing the cover off him, bringing his hands down to the edges of the mattress at his sides, looking down at the floor. His gaze floated up, to her feet, her legs, the tee-shirt covering her little body, the incline of her arms, up into her face, her eyes, down the fall of her hair. “I’m going to tell you now, too. My Uncle Bill is sick. He has terminal malignant prostate cancer, and his diagnosis at this time is six months...and that’s with chemo. When he dies, my mother is going to make me her partner in the company; I know she’s going to do this, for absolute certain, regardless of what my Uncle ultimately wants. That means all of my Uncle’s shares pass on to me. 65% of the company will be mine...billions of dollars, ten different major publications, a major television outlet, a foundation pulling in massive revenue, an accredited dance school that will soon expand into four new sectors, a public investment firm, twenty of the largest manufacturing companies in the United States…” Duncan trailed off, and Kenzie realized she’d stopped breathing.

“I plan on consulting with your mother regarding how best to proceed with this new responsibility ethically, Kenzie...and with you. I want to shift the direction and objectives of Shepherd Unlimited. And I plan on attempting to build a bridge, an understanding, between the company and President Underwood. And...I want to buy the Post, the better to protect it...and to protect you.”

“Duncan. Oh, baby. I…I--” Kenzie didn’t realize it, but her hands had come up to her mouth, covering it, her eyes wide and stunned. I knew the Shepherds were rich...I guess I didn’t really understand what that meant, though. Not really. I guess I still don’t, but I’m getting an idea.

“And I want to give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Because your joy is my joy, and your happiness is my happiness now, and...only your contentment will make me content. Only your light--”

Kenzie rushed into his arms--she stopped his mouth with an urgent kiss, not being able to bear the quivering edge in his voice. “I am happy, baby, because I found you, I found you, my dearest love--” she whispered this into his mouth, and his eyes closed, and Kenzie felt she could feel the wave of relief that flooded off him, down through her body; a wave like the slow passage of time all at once, the eons of ages condensed into the relief of one moment, and he brought his arms around her and pulled her down to him, tossing her into the bed, and his kisses rained all over her face and her neck and her hair, her eyelids, her cheeks, her mouth.

“I think we should get a mirror for this room,” Duncan whispered into her as he pressed the fervent, warm kisses into her. “I wanna see us when we fuck…you’re so beautiful, I just wanna see every inch of you, I wanna see your face when I’m fucking you from behind--”

Kenzie blushed, biting down hard on her lip, lifting her neck the better to feel his mouth there, sending little pinpricks of sensation up and down her skin. His hands (those hands) were flitting down to her thighs, pressing, hot and so soft, suggesting their desire and promising all they could do to her, I was thinking about that tonight, how did you know, I thought that when I was in your lap and I was forcing your head back and gripping your throat because telling you what to do thrilled me and I wanna do it more and I wanna be your Goddess who you lay down your devotion to, baby, I wanna see us fuck, too-- “Fuck, baby, shhhh, don’t talk that way or you’re gonna make me want you again--”

“I always want you, since I saw you standing on that balcony all I’ve wanted is you, all I can think about is you, you looked like an angel and you are an angel, Kenzie, how did I get so lucky, how am I so blessed to be near you--” Duncan brought one long-fingered hand to the side of her face, into that crook of her jaw and ear, his favorite spot, to hold me. She leaned into his fingers, closing her eyes, overwhelmed by the wildfire in his, the coiled brightness, the depth of him.

“We must have done something really good in the life before this one...or something really hard. Or something...painful. And this...is our reward for all that suffering.” Kenzie’s voice began to drift, to rise and fall--as soon as she’d closed her eyes she realized how tired she was, how sleep was pushing at the corners of her mind; and a wave washed over her, one that wanted nothing more than to sleep in the arms of her lover, held under the shadow of the night--there was a new moon tonight, the new cycle, the new beginning, a new doorway opening--a time of change, auspicious, and our new destiny falling into place, the wind of Fate pushing us on into this new life…

“Baby, let’s go to sleep,” Duncan brought his hand down her arm, to the dip of her waist, his nose pressing into her long golden-brown hair, breathing her in. “Sleep, and no alarms for tomorrow.”

“Yes, please,” Kenzie murmured, and her voice sounded tiny and far-away to her. She felt Duncan get up beside her for a moment, his hands pulling away (“come back, hold me,” she heard herself say, and he replied “I will, baby, I will”) and the lamp on his side of the bed switched off, darkness falling behind her eyelids, and they were bathed in thick shadow, only the vague glow of the city somewhere behind them giving the room any iridescence. Kenzie opened her eyes a little, and could see the outline of Duncan (tall, standing in just his black briefs, hair over his forehead, long arms reaching down), plugging her phone into the charger beside the bed (I’m always forgetting to do that, he’s so thoughtful) and he turned to her, his eyes glowing in the dark, as if they were truly made of blue flames, lighting shadowed places, like Hades on his throne of bones, staring down his dark hall.

“I keep imagining you have flowers in your hair,” he said to her softly, climbing in beside her, pulling the blanket and sheet over them, his hand coming up to tuck strands of hair behind her ear, resting his fingers in that little space again for a moment. Kenzie turned her back to him so she was nestled into the crook of his body, his form, much larger than her, enveloping her like a cocoon, his chest pressed into her, his face coming against her hair, his arm, crooked, coming to the center of her body, his hand reaching between her breasts, possessively. “So many flowers, like a crown, petals drifting down through the waves of it...I keep seeing you that way, and you look so beautiful...Kenzie, I love you...”

“I love you too, Duncan, I love you…” And Kenzie felt herself drift away, her fingers twined through his between her breasts, into the shadow of sleep.

------

Kenzie woke to soft sunlight falling over the bed, and Duncan’s spot empty beside her, her face buried in the pillow, her head foggy with the depth of her sleep. As soon as she lifted it up, though, she could hear soft strains of lo-fi electronic music coming from the kitchen and front room (call your friends, I’ll call mine...we’ll head out for a long ride...sun is coming out now...it all feels right), and smell the savory, dark sweetness of coffee and butter and fat in a frying pan. Kenzie rubbed her eyes--in her dream she’d been leaning over Claire, who was unconscious, on the white floor of some gigantic house. Claire had been choking...and Kenzie had leaned over her and opened her and pulled the piece of food out of her neck that had been choking her. What a strange dream, Kenzie thought, shaking her head back and forth, locks of golden-fawn hair falling over her shoulder. That dream didn’t make any sense. How could I open Claire’s skin that way? Ugh, weird. The dream had already begun to slip away from her, and Kenzie was glad to let it go. The dream had left her with a funny, sour feeling in the back of her throat, and she swallowed, willing the taste away.

Kenzie lifted her legs onto the floor on Duncan’s side of the bed, reaching for her phone, opening her email. Candice had replied; Everything’s all set for your article. Good luck with everything, let me know if you need my help with anything. Ben won’t stop talking about getting an interview with Duncan. Make sure he knows what he’s getting into there!

Kenzie went out of her email, to her text messages; Clairebear. Mom.

Clairebear: Oops, I was so bothered about those BPF links that I forgot to reply to your request to have me for dinner! OF COURSE I WANT TO SEE DUNCAN’S FUCKING PENTHOUSE, what should I bring tonight? How did everything go with your Mom?

Kenzie typed. Bring your beautiful self only!!! You should see how much wine Duncan has, and every bottle is probably worth hundreds of dollars. It’s insane. We’ll order takeout or something, I need to make sure Duncan eats regular human food, not just foie gras and shit like that all the time, and this is a good litmus test (I’m kidding, he loved my chicken and dumplings and ate salmon last night, but still). EVERYTHING WITH MOMBY WENT SO WELL, I honestly can’t believe it, she loved him so fucking much??? She’s ready to marry him herself, I think. She hugged him and they drank each other under the table. Clairebear, it made me so fucking happy.

Kenzie looked at the other text, this one from her mother.

Mom: I love you so much, sweet pea. I’m sorry I doubted you. Duncan is a dream, but you knew that. Your safety and your happiness are at the center of my world. Steel yourself against Annette. I worry she won’t be as easy to convince as I am. Duncan knows her; he’ll know that, too. Be the brave Kenzie I love so well. Love you to the moon and back. Give Duncan a squeeze for me.

I love you too, Momby, so much. I’ll put on my journalist poker face for her. You know the one, Kenzie typed, standing as she did, softly stepping out through the living room to the kitchen, looking up. Duncan was at his slick silver electric stove, gently pushing at two eggs sizzling in a shiny copper frying pan. He heard her; or sensed her, Kenzie wasn’t sure--he glanced over his shoulder, smiling immediately as he met her eyes.

“Good morning, baby,” he said. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she smiled back at him, clutching her phone. “Weird dreams, though. What time is it?”

“Ten after 9.”

“Wow, I can’t believe I slept so long...Momby was texting me. She said I need to give you a squeeze.” Kenzie padded to him on the balls of her bare feet, wrapping her arms around his back to his stomach, and clenched them. Duncan’s hands were still at the frying pan, but he reached his neck around to bring his face to hers, lips falling into her hair, then to her cheek, then with aching softness to her lips, lingering for a moment, then turning back to the eggs.

“Tell her I said hello, I hope her ride with Samuel went well.”

Kenzie let go of Duncan reluctantly, adding these things to the end of the text, then hitting send. She turned towards the long black obsidian island in the center of the kitchen, glancing up at the diamond-drop chandelier, glinting in the early sunlight, then back down; on the table was a carton of fresh strawberries, two coffees, and two orange juices, and two plates with slabs of crispy turkey bacon, waiting quietly for the eggs he was making. Kenzie reached out and grabbed one of the strawberries, bringing it eagerly to her mouth, biting into it so a stream of juice fell down her chin. Ugh, this is the best strawberry I have ever fucking had, she thought. Everything tastes better lately. Everything looks brighter, more beautiful, music sounds better...Kenzie sat at the island, turning back to look at Duncan at the stove, admiring the fall of his hair in the sunlight, the concentrated look in his blue eyes as he flipped one of the eggs over with a deft flick of his wrist, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“Claire texted me too, about coming over for dinner later. I can’t wait to see her…what time should I tell her? 7?”

“7 sounds perfect, we should be done with finding your escort and coordinating with the movers by then. I’m looking forward to spending more time with her. I know she’s important to you.  ”

Duncan was still looking down at the eggs, but Kenzie could hear the tender tinge in his voice; the sweetness extending out towards her. He means it. His sweetness takes my breath away. I wonder if the other people in his life see that sweetness, or care about it.

“Thank you for being so wonderful, Duncan.” Kenzie looked up into Duncan’s face as he came around her side, sliding the eggs onto her place deftly, lifting the hot pan carefully away from her. Dark stubble rose along his cheeks; Duncan wore a soft black tee shirt and black sweatpants, and he looked far too beautiful at this early time of day to be real, his hair slightly mussed in sleep but still looking deliberately styled, somehow, his tall form leaning down to kiss her forehead. He smelled like musky sleep and coffee and the smoke from the stovetop and Kenzie wanted to pull his neck into her face and breathe deeply, like he was oxygen.

“Baby...I’d do anything for you. I told you that, and I meant it, and I’ll say it as much as I need to, I’ll do everything I can, until you believe me.” Duncan said this so matter-of-factly, one would think he had been commenting on the weather, the bright May morning, the temperature outside, the driving conditions. He was looking at her, the frying pan still in his hand, a spatula in the other. Kenzie was struck again by an enveloping tide of affection for him; she felt suddenly unable to speak, mistiness coating her eyes as they stared at each other; she grabbed a piece of the turkey bacon instead, lifting it into her mouth, lowering her gaze away from him, too overcome to stare into his piercing blue gaze any longer. It was perfect; just a little bit burnt, just how she liked it.

She could feel Duncan still staring at her for another moment, then he turned back to the stove, cracking two more eggs into the pan with one hand, carefully discarding the shells in his steel sink for now, twisting a smooth, coppery pepper mill that was sitting on the counter beside the stove over the eggs. “The service detail is sending their candidate at 10:30, baby. I know I said this already, but if you don’t like them, we’ll find someone else. We’ll find someone who makes you feel comfortable, no matter what.”

Kenzie shoved the rest of the bacon into her mouth, fighting off the urge to cry. No crying today, Kenz, she scolded herself. Today is good vibes only. “Okay, baby,” she murmured, grasping the handle of her coffee cup (it was made of glass, the most beautiful coffee cup I’ve ever seen, she thought, how did I not notice these cups the first time I drank coffee Duncan made me, that first morning, I was in a daze), sipping carefully at the steaming liquid. “I feel nervous about it.”

“I’m here. Everything is gonna be fine. These people are the best at what they do. The absolute best. They’ve been protecting my mother for decades, her mother before that. My grandmother, Adelaide Shepherd, she was an absolute force of nature, but she needed a detail, too. Once, a man tried to blow her up with a pipe-bomb he’d hidden in his sock.”

“Oh my god, really?”

“Yep. And that was in the ‘60’s, when that sort of thing was less common.”

“Was she okay?”

“Oh, yeah. She refused to cancel any of her schedule that day, so the story as told by my mother goes. And her detail was unharmed, they managed to wrestle the pipe-bomb away from him and throw it out of range of any civilians. And that’s the same service that’s sending someone for you today. They are truly the best...almost uncannily so.”

Duncan came back over to the island, sliding his own eggs onto his plate (done over medium just like mine, that’s such a stupid small little thing but I love that he likes his eggs the same way) and walking back over to the sink to place the scalding pan into it.

“When we go to your apartment, Kenz, there are going to be paps there. They’re going to shout questions at you, and you’re going to want to answer them. I know the feeling. Sometimes I reply when I really shouldn’t. Do whatever you need to to ignore them. I’ll be there right beside you. They want to get a rise out of you, piss you off enough that you’ll say something. Don’t give them the satisfaction.” Duncan had come back around behind her, his arms coming down over her shoulders, his lips pressing into her hair again, his mouth moving against her head. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks or says. I love you. Please remember that.”

Kenzie nodded under the pressure of his touch, still feeling too overwhelmed to speak beyond a trembling “I love you too, baby”, stabbing her fork into the eggs. She noticed her phone light up with another text; Mom. Samuel is an angel from the highest heaven, I loved him immediately.  Kenzie smiled widely and held her phone up to Duncan’s eyes so he could see. Duncan grinned. “Absolutely true.”

He sat across from her, pushing one long hand through his hair, picking up a slab of the bacon between two fingers (oh thank god, Kenzie thought, you don’t use a fork for your bacon, because that’s just wrong), ripping it hungrily with his teeth. His eyes came up to her, into hers, around the oval of her face; Kenzie was struck for what felt like the thousandth time by the beauty of his eyes, sapphiric in this light, glittering with depth and emotion. She reached her hand out, almost involuntarily, and Duncan twined his fingers around hers, his expression one of open affection and happiness. I wonder if the other people in his life get to see this Duncan, she wondered again. This open, loving soul. I want to hold it, hold him, with gentle hands.

“I love this. Eating breakfast. With you.” Kenzie bit her lip, the words drifting across the island towards him, over his skin. Duncan was silent for a moment, a little nod cascading down his head. Then he said, “I’m happier than I have ever been in my entire life, here, with you, Kenzie.” And she knew he meant it. She lifted the glass coffee cup to her mouth again, blowing carefully, too speechless to reply, so she sipped again, her eyes lifting up to him over the rim. Duncan had brought his hand to his chin, along the bottom of his lip, glancing back and forth between her and his plate now, and then over to his phone as a text lit up the screen. Kenzie peered. Mom. She couldn’t make out the message.

“Mom wants us to meet her at a bar called Plume tomorrow, around 6,” Duncan said, turning his phone over, not looking at the text. “It’s inside the Jefferson Hotel. Kenzie...Annette can be...very particular about appearances. This is a first impression, so she’s going to be particularly critical of you. You were blessed with a warm mother, but my mother is...a politician and a businesswoman, first and foremost. It’s made her inclined to be cold.”

Kenzie reached for another strawberry, pushing the hair that had fallen into her cheek behind her ear. “Mr. Shepherd, are you saying you need to approve of what I’m wearing?”

“I love your clothes, Kenzie. They’re a part of you, and I can see that. But my Mom doesn’t know you yet. She will judge you immediately, and I just want it to be fairly. I was thinking we could go to the shops after we’re done coordinating with the movers and find you a dress that will satisfy her. And I have my own selfish reasons…” Duncan turned her hand over gently, and dragged a thumb down her palm, suggestively. “I’d love to see you try things on.”

“Normally, Mr. Shepherd, if you were anyone else, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

She could see Duncan trying not to smile, his thumb still pressing into her hand, achingly warm.

“But seeing as I do want to make a good impression on your mother, and you’re suggesting you’re buying me more clothes...if you insist.”

“I do insist, Miss Stone.” He pulled her hand towards him, leaning to her over the island, his energy suddenly hungry, but not for food, longing and intense. Kenzie hovered up for a moment, dipping her mouth down to him, her lips sucking at his bottom lip for the briefest moment, falling away as she leaned back into her seat. He tried to come after her, his head arching into the space where she’d been a moment before, and Kenzie giggled with delight. I could kiss him all fucking day, forever and ever, and he’d still want more. How fucking wonderful is that. Duncan went back to his seat, reluctant, eyes roving down her hair to her bare shoulder peeking from the shirt. Kenzie glanced behind her at the clock over the stovetop. “Oh, fuck, it’s 10 already, we should get dressed, baby.”

“Or I could just watch you get dressed…” Kenzie had jumped up from her seat, a strawberry clenched in her teeth, trying to skirt past him towards the bedroom, but Duncan’s hands grabbed her at the waist and pulled her against him, lips at her neck, and she yelped, hand coming up to the strawberry in her mouth and bringing her hand to his cheek, pressing it into his lips instead. Duncan bit at it and Kenzie brought her mouth against his again, loving the sweet taste of the fruit lingering there, the wetness of his mouth, his hand coming up to cup around her breast, possessive. “Or I could undress you…”

Kenzie twisted out of his arms, (fuck, I love teasing him this way), smiling at him over her shoulder as she slipped away. “I’ll just go to dinner naked, your mom will love that.”

“Fuck, baby…” Duncan stood, his eyes clouding with lust, coming after her as she ran into the bedroom, into the closet, purposefully trapping herself in the corner as he advanced on her; Hades takes Persephone down to the Underworld, she thought; it flickered through her mind, then was gone. Duncan pressed her into the corner, near where his leather jackets hung in a pristine, dark-smelling row, his arms coming down around her waist to her hips (he’s so much taller than me, fuck, I’ll never get over it) and lifted her up into his mouth, his hands coming around the back of her thighs, the shirt riding up so her bare ass pressed to the cold plaster there. “I just want to kiss you all day, all day, baby, I want to go back to bed all day with you and worship you…” His murmurs slipped between his kisses, like smoke around her mind.

“Duncan, we really do need to get dressed,” Kenzie whispered into him, elated, between his lips. “Put me down.”

“No.”

“Do as I say, baby.”

Duncan let out a little whine of protest, but lifted her down with aching softness, so she stood, trapped in his arms in the corner of his walk-in closet, her head barely reaching his shoulder, looking up into his eyes.

“Later. I promise. Later, you can worship me.”

He pressed his head down against hers, hair falling across his forehead, arms holding her with coiled, hungry strength. Kenzie’s heart fluttered wildly between her breasts; that’s all I want too, to stay in bed with you and fall into your eyes and disappear into you, the world to fade away in your arms, my beloved, the only One.

“Okay, baby. Okay.”

--------

Today Kenzie had chosen one of the dresses Duncan had retrieved from her apartment yesterday to wear; I’ll have to move everything into Duncan’s closet later, she thought, slipping the rust-colored, long-sleeve shirt-dress over her head, pulling her hair out of the collar, straightening the skirt, buttoning at the torso. The bodyguard is gonna be here soon. God, I hope they’re not horrible. Duncan was in the bathroom, and she could hear the water running, the soft sounds of him picking things up and putting them back down, using the bottles around the sink. She’d already brushed her teeth, standing next to him as he stared down at his phone, typing rapidly (Annette), his own toothbrush dangling from his mouth, his eyes concentrated. I’m sure he’ll tell me, don’t be nosy, Kenz. She ran the cold water into her hands, sucking some into her mouth, gurgling it, her eyes dancing at him. He glanced up and grinned at her; “you are so cute,” he murmured and she jiggled her eyebrows, cheeks bubbled out from the water swirling in her mouth. She spit into the sink. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. Mom’s angry about the Instagram photo. She’s trying to control the access the media has to...us (me and you, baby). But the sooner everything is out, the sooner it calms down. That’s how it always works. She needs to get used to us and I’m going to do what I can to help speed that along.”

Kenzie couldn’t help but feel little waves of satisfaction; she felt them still as she had slipped on her dress, felt pinpricks of them as she went to the walk-in closet where the Tiffany moon necklace now rested on one of the rising shelves, some of her other necklaces lined carefully beside it (the quartz cluster, the inverted moon choker, memories of the past few days, like the best dreams she’d ever had). She picked it up carefully, unhooking the clasp and closing it around her neck. She gazed down at the moon pendant, fingering it affectionately, then moved to the bathroom; Duncan was rubbing some sort of balm into his jaw, and it smelled wonderful, that woodsy, cedar smell that she was beginning to tie to him so innately. Kenzie was thrilled to see he hadn’t shaved this morning, and the stubble still lined his jaw, darker than yesterday. “I love your stubble,” she said softly, rubbing her kohl pencil under her eyes, just a little, staring at him through the mirror, reaching for the square jar of her perfume, spritzing it around her neck and behind her hair, onto one wrist, rubbing them together.

“I love your perfume. I love your hair and your eyes and your mouth--” Duncan turned to her, reaching for her. She leaned into him, his head falling down against her, eyes closing, arms cradling her. Kenzie looked into the mirror for a moment; her breath caught at the reflection they cast, his much larger, much taller form encompassing her small one, his dark gray high-collared shirt pressing into her rust-colored dress, his dark hair falling into her golden waves, brushed out, falling down her back, his wildly handsome face, almost angelic in this light, leaned against her little one, his full lips next to her slender ones. We look so beautiful together, fuck. He is so beautiful, it makes me want to die right here. My One. My Prince. Beloved. How is he mine.

The bell rang at Duncan’s front door; it was a cadenced chime, a lilt of a doorbell, and it fell over them with a pointed urgency. The world is expecting you. Duncan lifted his head, opened his eyes. “That’s the service.”

“I’ll get it,” Kenzie said, slipping out of his arms, running on bare feet through the bedroom, before he could say anything. She wanted a first impression of this bodyguard without Duncan there; she needed to know how this person would behave around her when he wasn’t around. She stopped, breathless, at the door, pulling it open with a jerk. A handsome, middle-aged white man stood there; he was quite tall, taller than Duncan, Kenzie thought, and broad-shouldered, his eyes bright and sepia, with eyebrows that arched, giving him a mischievous, friendly appearance. His hair was salt-and-peppered, but he wasn’t balding at all, some falling over his forehead, and he wore an immaculate black suit with a crisply pressed white shirt and thin black tie, his long legs extending down to highly polished Oxford shoes; his hands were behind his back, and he towered over her, looking down at her expectantly. The man grinned at her; his smile was wide, open and kind, and Kenzie liked him, instantly. She could see a thin wire extending around the curve of his ear, with a black, rounded end inside his eardrum.

“Thomas Harris, a pleasure. You must be Mackenzie Stone.”

He extended a large hand (he could break my hand off with one jerk, easily, Kenzie thought) and Kenzie slipped her small one into it; his hand was cool, and she could feel the callouses that lined the inside of his palm. This man knows how to hurt someone with his hands, Kenzie knew, immediately. If he has to. But his grip on her was delicate and careful.

“I am. Are you my bodyguard, Mr. Harris?”

The man laughed a little, showing two rows of very straight, very white teeth. “I suppose I am, Miss Stone. I daresay I could easily hoist you over my shoulder and run if need be, also.”

Kenzie grinned. I really like him.

“Most people call me just Harris, Miss. Do you have a preferred title?”

“Mackenzie. Or Kenzie.”

“Very well, Miss Mackenzie.”

“Come in--please.”

Harris stepped through Duncan’s tall doorway, and Kenzie sensed Duncan coming up beside her, his arm snaking around her back for a moment, giving Harris an appraising gaze. He stepped up to the taller man and extended his hand.

“Duncan Shepherd. I heard you were an escort for Adelaide, for a time. Before she passed. I would have been only eight or nine, I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

“Oh, Adelaide. A firecracker of a woman. A very fine woman, indeed. I still think of her sometimes...I miss that smile terribly some days.” Harris nodded in deep recognition. “I always thought she was far too great a woman to die. I’m still surprised she isn’t here. Thomas Harris, at your service.” The two men shook hands; Kenzie saw Duncan stretch his fingers as he lowered his hand back to his side, as if to bring feeling back into them. This man is fucking strong.

“Thank you for saying that. I feel lucky to have known her for a short time. There’s another woman in the Shepherd family now, in need of your assistance.” Duncan’s hand came around Kenzie’s arm, his fingers warm and heavy. “It would mean a great deal to me if you would consider this job your most important yet.” Oh my god, in the Shepherd family. Duncan’s phrasing made Kenzie’s heart rebound in her chest, a cool sweat break out at the back of her neck. In the Shepherd family.

“I think I can see why that’s so, Mr. Shepherd.” Harris’ warm gaze fell on Kenzie again, and she smiled at him, shyly. “What a bright soul you are, Miss Stone.”

“Mackenzie, Harris, please. What a lovely thing to say,” she replied, blushing. “I’m so grateful for your help...this is all so new to me and I have to admit, I feel strange about it. It’s comforting to me that you looked after Duncan’s grandmother, though. I wish I could’ve met her.”

“She would have liked you very much, I think, Miss Mackenzie. And it’s perfectly understandable, I think, to feel strange about needing protection in this way. But we live in strange times. I vow to do my utmost to keep you safe. I’ve been doing this job for almost thirty years, and I take great pride in it, if I do say so myself.”

Duncan’s hand was still carefully around Kenzie’s arm; she could feel him gazing at her closely, gauging her reaction to this very tall man who was meant to be her buffer between the outside world and her safety. Kenzie looked up at him, into his storm-colored eyes, and smiled, nodding. He’s good, baby. I like him. I trust him. She hadn’t said it, but somehow felt that Duncan heard her anyway; his face relaxed, and he smiled back at her.

“I understand I’ll be escorting you to work at the Post regularly, and for other activities as you and Mr. Shepherd see fit,” Harris said to Kenzie, looking down at her, attentively; “If you ever feel as though you’d rather do without my presence, I won’t take it harshly--this is your prerogative, of course. I am your escort when you have need of me, and my contract is per-day. Also, I’m required to note that only in the case of a direct threat to your physical safety am I allowed, legally, to use physical force. But I will not hesitate, Miss Mackenzie. You have my word on that.”

Duncan nodded at Harris, gratefully. “Thank you, Harris.” Kenzie bit her lip; a direct threat to your physical safety. She had to admit, the idea of having someone trailing after her constantly was unnerving, but at the same time, the idea of someone protecting her from any unwanted attention was an attractive one. Being a woman is often so scary, and nobody is gonna fuck with me with this gigantic dude next to me, I can’t deny that. And obviously; Duncan couldn’t always be with her. Not that I want that...being away from him makes me miss him, and I like that, too. Those reporters scared the shit out of me, and it would be nice to use the front entrance of my work again. Go with it, Kenzie. Fate is trying to give you a sign again. If this man looked after Duncan’s grandmother, he’ll look after you, too.

“Harris, do you need anything? Water? A coffee?” Kenzie said, moving toward Duncan’s espresso machine.

“Thank you, Miss Mackenzie, but no. I’ll wait for you outside. I see I’ve interrupted your breakfast. I look forward to this partnership, and hope my service to you, Miss Mackenzie, will be satisfactory.” Harris glanced down at the island in Duncan’s (our) kitchen, still littered with the plates and glass coffee cups and orange juice glasses. Then he nodded to them, smartly, and stepped out, the door snapping shut with a clean sound behind him.

Kenzie went to the mat by the door where she’d discarded her shoes last night (running to Momby), picking up one of the brown leather Reagan boots and pulling it onto her foot, then the other one. She felt Duncan come up behind her, his soft hands enveloping the middle of her waist, the incline of her abdomen. “I love him already, baby,” she said, righting herself, turning in his arms. “I didn’t know he was going to be one of the bodyguards your grandmother had.”

“I didn’t know either, honestly, until the detail service texted me this morning. It makes me feel so much better, especially after having met him. God, I feel so relieved.” Kenzie wrapped her arms around Duncan’s neck as he spoke into her, consumed with the tenderness that floated into his eyes as he pressed the incline of his nose and lips into her forehead, picking her up just a little, so her feet lifted off the floor and dangled in midair. “Let’s go get your other things, okay?”

“Yes,” she breathed into him. “Yes, baby, yes, I’m so happy, I’ve never been so happy--” and he spun her around in his arms and pressed his face into her neck and she could feel his smile there, feel the heat coming off his body in a wave that felt like summer sunlight.

------

Harris had sat in the front passenger seat of the BMW, next to Samuel; the two men seemed to hit it off instantly, grinning at each other and delving immediately into a mutually interested conversation about their pasts as escorts, drivers, and military servicemen. “Army,” Harris had said to Samuel as soon as he sidled in next to the Nigerian. “I bet my life on it.” “Right you are, sir, in my native Nigeria, that is. And you are Navy.” How they could tell these things about each other Kenzie had no idea, but their exchange made her smile widely; I love Samuel so much, and if he loves Harris, I know I can trust him. Duncan grasped her hand loosely, languidly, his thumb trailing down the dip of her index finger, into the crook of her skin; he was looking down at his phone, his eyes dark.

“Baby, what is it?” The partition floated up; they were alone, shielded from the eyes of Duncan’s chauffeur and Kenzie’s bodyguard.

“Someone took pictures of us last night at the restaurant,” he said, holding up the open Instagram app on his sleek black iPhone. “I guess...I’m used to people taking pictures of me, but I don’t like them taking pictures of you and Madeline that way.” Kenzie looked down at his phone; the shot was the three of them at their corner table at Busboys last night, a side-view, Madeline holding her Jack and Coke and gazing at Duncan with a bemused expression, Duncan saying something animatedly, Kenzie gazing at him with a small smirk.

“You have to admit, this is a nice picture, baby,” Kenzie said, looking up at him. I love this photo, she thought. I love him and Momby talking together this way. I love them both so much.

“It is. I had a wonderful time with you and your mother last night. I’m so glad she...I’m so glad she likes me.” Duncan’s eyes went into hers, soft, and Kenzie was overcome with the need to hold him, clutch his face in her hands. She gripped his hand, and he held hers tightly in turn. “Of course she does, baby. You’re lovely, and I love you, and I knew she would.”

“I’m sorry right now, Kenzie, if my mother isn’t as lovely to you. Please know, Mackenzie, how much I love you.” Duncan leaned over the seat to her as the BMW travelled towards Dupont Circle; his hand fell down to the moon necklace at her throat, his fingers trailing down its circular diamonds, down between the space of her breasts, to her waist, down the pleats of her long skirt, the lift of her thigh and the space behind her knee. He gripped her at that juncture; he pulled her legs softly into his lap, and Kenzie’s skin broke out into goosebumps at the force of the his gesture, the subservience and desire of it. The car was smooth, low strains of Sarah Vaughan floating through the speakers today (whatever Lola wants, Lola gets, and little man, little Lola wants you...I always get what I aim for, and your heart and soul is what I came for); Kenzie reached into the pocket at the side of her dress, pulling her phone out, opening the Instagram app as Duncan gazed at her in open lust, his hand falling up and down her smooth calf, lazily. The icons at the bottom of the tool bar flashed: 20562 new followers, thousands of new comments and mentions. She went to her most recent post, the one of she’d taken in the office in her moment of abandon, her eyes downcast, fingers on the moon necklace she now truly held her fingers against. He gave me the moon on a string. Over 15,000 likes. And now all of you know he’s mine. Kenzie raised her eyes to Duncan; his hand was on his jaw, thoughtful, pensive, his eyes unwavering from her. Somehow she knew he was thinking about putting a mirror in the bedroom again; a mirror and a hook extending from the ceiling, a hook to extend that long black velvet ribbon from, to tie her up again...

Nope, this is never getting old.

------

As Samuel pulled up to Kenzie’s apartment building, her eyes went wide with disbelief. A huge crowd of paparazzi were milling around outside the buzzer-locked entrance; there were at least ten different cameras and dozens of reporters with microphones and recorders, and they had clearly noticed the BMW coming down the drive; several of the microphones turned eagerly; a crowd of people rushed towards the car.

“Kenzie, stay calm, baby, be calm,” Duncan said to her quietly. She had pulled her legs off his lap immediately, her heart catapulting into her mouth, her phone forgotten, her eyes going wide, clutching his arm. “Duncan, fuck, what the fuck,” she breathed. “How are this many people here, holy fuck, holy fuck.” The partition rolled down. “Miss Mackenzie, I’m going to get out first and check the perimeter, and then I’ll give a nod; an okay to proceed. Is that acceptable?” Harris looked over his shoulder at her through the window, his sepia-toned eyes waiting for her go-ahead. Duncan clutched her hand softly, staring at her; you’re in charge, baby, you got this. Be calm. Kenzie took a deep, shuddering breath, staring out the window at the reporters pressed against the BMW; “okay, Harris, okay,” she said, and he opened the door; reporters immediately started to shout questions to him, “Are you with Duncan Shepherd and Mackenzie Stone? Is this Miss Stone’s current residence? Are you aware of the ongoing relationship between Shepherd and Stone? What is your relation to Miss Stone?” Kenzie noticed Harris ignored them as though they weren’t even speaking to him; his eyes scouted the sidewalk sharply, through the crowd pressing towards them, and then he nodded at the window. Time to move.

“Come on, baby, I got you,” Duncan gripped her hand, looking into her eyes; his were clouded, dark, but determined, and Kenzie felt suddenly full of determination, too; fuck all of you, she thought. Fuck you people, let me in my apartment. “Ready,” she breathed, grabbing the handle of the little black convertible bag she’d picked out a few days before, having switched to it from her Margaux satchel before they left the penthouse earlier. Ready as I’ll ever be.

Duncan opened the door, Harris standing near it, his back to the reporters as a buffer; Duncan exited the car, standing straight; the paps immediately swarmed around him, shouting, though they didn’t get too close; Harris gave one man a particularly dark look when he tried to shove a microphone under Duncan’s chin (Kenzie watched, worried, as Duncan’s head came back a little, involuntarily, his expression dazed for just a moment), and the man scurried back. Duncan leaned down, reaching a steady hand out to Kenzie where she still sat in the BMW’s backseat; Kenzie grasped his hand with tight fingers, and let him help her out of the car, their eyes locked; trust me, she knew he was thinking. “Trust me,” he mouthed, and she bit her lip, and nodded. The shouted questions around the car suddenly reached a crashing crescendo as Kenzie stepped onto the sidewalk beside him, Harris shielding her from behind; Kenzie felt as though she could no longer make out phrases, just words; “MISS STONE, DUNCAN, MISS STONE, MR. SHEPHERD, MACKENZIE STONE, YOUR RELATIONSHIP--DATING--SHEPHERD UNLIMITED--POLITICAL OPPONENTS--RESIDENCE--A STATEMENT--” and the clashing of a dozen cameras clicking at once.

“Come on,” Duncan said into her ear, and he pulled her hand gently but firmly towards the building entrance. Kenzie could feel Harris’ forearm gently pushing into her shoulder blades, his tall form hovering behind her, protecting her from the back. Kenzie couldn’t help it; she looked down at the sidewalk, her head pounding with the noise, an overwhelming nausea washing over her; a sudden claustrophobia set in as the reporters closed in around them, still shouting. “Jesus, step the fuck back,” she heard Duncan say, his voice clipped and demanding, and he pulled her through the flapping suit jackets of several reporters who had gotten unnervingly close; they dispersed as Harris came through, his arms coming up as a shield around Kenzie’s body. Then, mercifully, they were inside her apartment building; several men were standing inside the doorway, each wearing a polo shirt with Moving Unlimited sewn into the breast. Duncan nodded at them, while Kenzie stared out the glass window, dazed, at the reporters and camerapeople, still snapping pictures of her. Is all of this really for me? Harris stood at the door they’d just entered, holding it shut as paps crowded against it, attempting to get inside.

Duncan pulled the keys Kenzie had given him days ago from his pocket; the silver crescent moon charm glinted at her as he turned it in the door, snapping it open, and she suddenly felt grateful at his speed; her keys were still buried somewhere at the bottom of her bag, and she noticed her hands were shaking badly. Duncan pulled her gently, still grasping her hand tightly, into the hallway; the movers came behind her, and Harris followed them, carefully checking the door was securely shut behind them.

Duncan was at her door now; the gold moon she kept hung there was winking at her. Strange times, Kenz. He used the second silver key, this one slightly smaller, to unlock her apartment door; “Come on, baby, we’re here,” he said into her ear, softly. Kenzie stepped into her apartment (my little, shitty apartment); there were empty spots here and there where Duncan had gotten her things yesterday, her plants along the windowsill gone (now sitting in Duncan’s bedroom; they’ll go on his windowsill now, our windowsill), about half of her clothing gone off the standing rack against the wall (now hanging in a neat row beside Duncan’s--our--bed). Kenzie looked around, still feeling dazed. There was a stack of unbuilt boxes on the floor next to the front door, left from the day before. Her bed lay undisturbed, though; Kenzie remembered in a wave how she and Duncan had fucked on it after he came to her so breathlessly, after that long day, such a long day, seeing Momby, telling her; the last time she’d slept in it. What a wonderful night to be my last in this bed.

“I just remembered my lease doesn’t turn over until August,” she said aloud, as if to herself, her voice quiet, sounding like it belonged to someone else.

“That’s not important, baby, I’ll have our lawyers talk to your landlord. We’ll pay off whatever you owe for the rest of the lease.”

“Duncan, I--”

“Kenzie, please let me do that. It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

Duncan looked at her; his eyes were warm, soothing, open. She met his gaze for a moment, then looked behind him. The movers and Harris still stood in the hallway; the movers looked bored and impatient, but Harris was calm and collected, looking carefully back at the doorway where several paps had now gone inside the entranceway. He said something quietly, as if to himself, and Kenzie couldn’t make it out; then, she remembered the thin wire extending into his ear. He seemed like a lion to Kenzie; a lion, or a giant leopard, the predator, not the prey, not concerned about his place on the food chain. She had no doubt he wouldn’t hesitate to remove someone from her path, as he’d said to her so calmly. The paps had parted for him like he was Moses parting the Red Sea.

“All you need to do, baby, is tell them how you want them to pack up your things. Then we can go and they’ll take everything to the penthouse.” Duncan spoke to her carefully. “Are you okay? Do you need some water?”

“Yes, please,” Kenzie said in a small voice. She breathed in, deeply, and sat on the edge of her constellation bedspread. I can’t believe all of that was because of me.

“I think it would be best if we left from a back entrance, Mr Shepherd,” Harris said to him from the doorway. “There are too many people for me to properly cover Miss Stone on the way out. I’ve called for backup; they can act as a distraction if need be until we can get her back into the vehicle.”

“That sounds fine, Harris. Kenzie, is there a back entrance?”

“Y-yes. Down the hallway, another right. There’s a patio area and a gate to the side-street.”

“Very good, Miss Mackenzie. I’ll go check the perimeter.” Harris moved down the hallway briskly, his Oxford shoes quiet on the carpet. Kenzie breathed out as Duncan handed her the peony glass, half full of water. Kenzie swallowed a mouthful, reaching for his hand; he wrapped it around her fingers, and the warmth of his touch filled the pit of her stomach with a blooming flower of calm. “Baby, everything is going to be fine. I promise.” His expression was so tender; it made her cheeks hot, her lip tremble. She handed him the glass back with a shaking hand; he grasped it, his hand steady, brushing her fingers, his hair falling over his forehead as he looked down at her, patient, calm.

“Let me get something,” Kenzie said, standing, letting go of him, moving into her tiny bathroom, pushing aside the long lunar tapestry that covered the doorway. Duncan didn’t follow her; he seemed to sense that she needed a moment alone. She moved against the sink, grasping the edge tightly to steady herself; stared for a long moment at the photo of Momby, when she was young, that was tucked into the mirror; the one of her in the bell-sleeves and very short cut-off shorts and flat sandals, leaning against a brick wall, smiling at something or someone unknown to the side of the unknown cameraman, her body and face in profile, her teeth visible, her eyes sparkling, her hair falling around her shoulders and forehead. I need to keep this safe, Kenzie thought, and tucked it carefully into the little black bag at her hip. She breathed again, once, twice, three times, staring at her tiny bathroom, thinking of Duncan’s huge one, so pristine and beautiful and big, with its marble countertop and silver-gilded mirror, the clawfoot bathtub (full of roses), the shower where they’d fucked that morning after, where last night they’d held each other so tenderly. Your new bathroom, Kenz. No more balancing your speaker on the toilet. She went to the corner where she had a small shelf with toiletries stacked in its cloth drawers beneath the tiny window; on top of it was a Golden Pothos plant, its leaves climbing down around the legs of the shelf, growing wildly. “You need a bigger pot, baby,” she whispered to it, and picked it up, gently, bringing her face down to it, pressing her nose into it for a moment. Then, Kenzie turned; Kenzie, you are brave, and you can do this, you can be this brave person, this fearless person, you can pretend she is you, that you are golden, you can see yourself the way you know Duncan sees you, because you can see into his heart, somehow, you can see into his thoughts, somehow, and you know he believes in you--you know he thinks you are golden, and so you must believe in yourself, believe you are golden, too, and make it so. You have to, Kenzie. You have to be her now. You have to believe you are her. Only you can bring her to life.

Kenzie looked down at her Golden Pothos again, pressing one foot against the other; circling her foot out, pointing it from front to back. Then, gripping the plant in her arms still, she moved out of the bathroom, pushing the tapestry aside with her shoulder.

“Okay,” she said, looking up at Duncan, who had sat quietly at her little round, wooden dining table, his hand against his chin; that telltale sign of his concern. He met her gaze, and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

------

It was about an hour later when Duncan and Kenzie moved quietly through the gated backyard of her apartment complex; Kenzie still held the Golden Pothos tenderly in her arms; Duncan had offered to carry it, but she shook her head. “I want to hold it, I need to hold it right now.” He’d nodded, his hand trailing gently down her arm, protectively. The movers had almost finished packing everything into neat boxes (her clothes were kept on the rack, but they’d tucked vinyl sheeting around it, covering it from prying pap eyes as they pushed it into the moving truck on the curb--several cops and other men in dark suits had arrived about fifteen minutes after Harris had placed his discreet backup call, and they were keeping the paps quarantined a few yards from the entrance of the building); Kenzie had insisted on lifting her wind chimes down with a chair and tucking them, inside her constellation bedspread, carefully into one of them herself; she placed a few of her other plants that had been left behind yesterday on top of the spread to cushion them. Duncan had personally, carefully carried the box into the truck, writing HANDLE WITH EXTREME CARE on the side with a sharpie, ignoring the paps who shouted at him (even when one of them called out “how’s Annette feeling about you fucking Madeline Stone’s daughter, Duncan?”). Kenzie was having her furniture moved into Momby’s storage unit in Arlington, though she wondered, absently, if she’d indeed ever end up using any of it again; Duncan’s things are so much nicer, why would we use mine? She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness; it’s not that I even love my furniture. The change is just...so abrupt. My life changing so quickly, so utterly. It feels so soon, and yet, it feels like the right thing. It feels like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. It feels like the new moon. Duncan was right; this is our destiny. But nobody told me finding your destiny would feel so strange.

Samuel was idling the BMW on the back stretch of the side-street, and Harris was closely behind Kenzie again, his eyes, hawk-like, scanning the backyard for any stray prying eyes. Duncan held her arm, gently, pulling the rear door open, gripping her carefully as she leaned down into the seat, the plant still clutched in her arms; Duncan slid in beside her and and Harris shut the door behind him with a firm click from the sidewalk, moving quickly to the front seat and shutting the door as he scanned the area again; he spoke low, pressing the earpiece, as he settled into the passenger seat, and Samuel accelerated, the BMW quietly leaving the curb and turning toward Georgetown. “Samuel, drop us off at relish, in Cady’s Alley, thank you,” Duncan said, reaching for Kenzie’s hand; he pressed the button for the partition. He turned to her as the privacy of the backseat enveloped them. “Baby, Kenzie, are you alright? Can I do anything?”

Kenzie turned to look at him; oh, Duncan, I love you so. His eyes had that same tender expression as when he’d handed her the water glass, the clarity of their blue like a clear sky; she felt as though she could somehow sense the drifting color of his emotions, seeping out of him and enveloping her like an embrace, golden and bronze and delicately soft, sunlight and warm sand. “I’m okay, baby. I’m going to miss my apartment. It’s the first place I ever lived alone; I lived there for three years. And I’m going to miss living so close to Emissary...I’m okay. But I am a little sad. Just a little.”

“Do you want to cry? It’s okay if you want to cry, baby.”

Kenzie shook her head, biting her lip, clutching the Pothos.

“No. I don’t want to. Kiss me, okay? Duncan. Kiss me.” She turned her head up to him and he was smiling and his lips fell on hers and his hand came around hers where they clutched the terra cotta and he felt so warm and he felt golden and in his embrace Kenzie thought I don’t want to cry, I want to laugh; you make me feel golden, I told myself I am that girl you see inside me, and I feel her there and I know she’s there, I know she’s in me, and you’re bringing her out, bringing me to myself, in you I’ve seen the reflection of my own self, and in me the reflection of you.

-----

Duncan stepped out of the BMW, reaching for Kenzie’s hand, where Samuel had pulled up in front of the stony facade of the boutique; Kenzie gazed up at it, curious. She still held the Golden Pothos in her arms; Duncan reached down to her arms, gently pulling it away from her. “Is it okay if Samuel takes this back to the penthouse, baby? You know you can trust him.”

“Yes,” Kenzie breathed. If only this dazed feeling would fade; this feeling that I’m suddenly in someone else’s story. Harris was getting out of the passenger seat, buttoning his suit jacket, his hawkish sepia eyes scanning the area carefully again. I doubt he ever misses a thing, Kenzie thought. I wonder if he ever deviates from being extremely calm. Samuel leaned down from the driver’s seat to peer at her. “I will protect this small creature with my life, Miss Mackenzie,” he said as Duncan tucked the potted plant into the seat Harris had just vacated, pulling the seatbelt around its wide pot with measured gentleness. “Thank you, Samuel,” Kenzie replied, her voice sounding small in her ears. “Can you give it a little water when you get back?” “Of course, Miss Mackenzie.” Duncan shut the door and Samuel pulled away; “I’ll text him when we’re done,” Duncan said down to her, his hand finding the small of her back, his long fingers pressing gently down to the incline of her hip. Kenzie nodded up to him and grasped his hand as he pulled her into the shop; its interior was very cool and very quiet, the walls calming white with wooden dais raised here and there, shoes and accessories carefully and meticulously arranged, minimal racks against the walls, some clothing displayed on mannequins, red summer dresses and black pea coats and crisp white blouses. Harris hung back by the door as Duncan pulled her further into the shop, his eyes lighting on a woman approaching them, and he smiled at her, brilliantly.

“Nancy, how are you? It’s wonderful to see you.”

“Duncan, darling, I’m well, and you--you look wonderful, god, absolutely luminous.” The woman was middle-aged with an open, makeup-free face, round glasses perched on her nose, frizzy curls falling around her face, her smile genuine and unpretentious. She wore a long tartan skirt that fell to her ankles in navy and gray, and a mock neck top, darker navy, with pointed sleeves that went to her elbow. A golden-yellow argyle scarf was tied around her neck. She stopped in front of them, reaching out to Duncan, pressing her cheek against his, for a moment. “You smell lovely, as to be expected.” She turned to Kenzie, her expression friendly and curious. “And you must be Mackenzie. Madeline and I have brushed shoulders at parties in the past, but I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting you, my dear. I’m Nancy Pearlstein. Duncan tells me you’re meeting Annette tomorrow and need to look a part she’ll be...gentle with.”

Kenzie felt heat seep into her cheeks, and smiled a little. ”It’s nice to meet you.”

“What a doll,” Nancy said, eyes falling down Kenzie’s small form, from her strawberry-gold hair to the pleated dress, lingering on the moon pendant for a moment, then to her dark brown leather boots, glancing at Duncan approvingly, then back to her. “You make quite the striking couple, it’s no wonder the media is losing its collective mind; and you, my dear, you’re like a little piece of cake. We must give you the proper frosting. Come.”

Nancy led them up a smooth staircase of wooden slats; around more displays, tasteful racks, and mannequins on the second floor, and through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY around a corner. Here there was a wide white room, painted similarly to the rest of the store, warm light streaming in from two high windows against the far wall facing them, some empty mannequin stands in one corner and a curtain pulled over the opposite one as a makeshift dressing room, with a mirror so long against the wall to their left it reminded Kenzie of one in a dance studio; to one side of the mirror there stretched another long clothing rack, this one stocked with at least twenty different dresses of varying colors and styles.

“So, I brought together some pieces I think would suit you based on the pictures of you Duncan sent me. If you don’t like them, we can find more. Take your time. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything at all.” Nancy nodded back and forth between Duncan and Kenzie, her smile clearly delighted at the two of them; she pressed two fingers to her lips, as if lost in a private thought, then left, closing the door quietly behind her.

Duncan turned to her, smiling. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“She is. You know so many lovely people, baby.”

“She and my mother have been friends since high school. Nancy helped her dress for her first TV appearance, back in the late 80’s. Her store has been here for over twenty years. She’s the best...baby, try something on for me?” Duncan stepped close to her, his arms snaking around Kenzie’s waist, his face coming down to the side of her face, lips trailing down her neck. “I wanna see you in every single one of these. Please?”

Ugh, baby, you’re so gorgeous, you smell so fucking good, Kenzie thought, unable to stop her eyes from closing as he pressed into her, his much larger form enveloping hers in an achingly strong embrace, his hair against her mouth, its woodsy smell making her heart fall into her stomach and fly back into her mouth. I want your hands down between my legs where they belong. As if he heard her, Duncan moved one long-fingered hand over her thigh, but Kenzie pulled away, teasingly, before he could reach down further, her lips hovering achingly close to his for a moment, eliciting a moan from him that reverberated against her, his desire palpable in the quiet of the early afternoon.

“Sit down, baby,” she commanded, and his gaze was heavy with lust for a moment as he stood very still, almost touching her but not quite, his hand hovering up, fingers extended towards her. Then, he turned to where some folding chairs were stacked against the wall; he pulled one with ease over to the center of the room, opening it with a snap, setting it firmly down, and sitting, crossing one leg against the other in a lazy, low crook, hands settling into his lap, his eyes steady on her.

Kenzie turned her back to him, setting her convertible bag on the floor; she went up to the rack lined beside the mirror, and began to push through the dresses carefully, mentally selecting five or six she liked immediately, and a handful of others that struck her for one reason or another. She lifted one up to Duncan; it was black tweed with tiny, tasteful sequins and a boat-style neck, and sleeves to the middle of the lower arm with slit cuffs. “This seems like an Annette Shepherd dress to me,” she said, and he nodded, his eyes shifting over it with a confident look.

“It is. I think that might be the one. Try it on?”

“I will. Be patient, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Yes, Miss Stone.” She felt his eyes on her back, falling down her wavy hair (golden and soft as silk) along her hips and over her ass (thinking about your beauty last night, baby, fucking you with that plug, fucking you, tied up, my come dripping down your leg, riding me so hard into that oblivious ecstasy…) and Kenzie blew her breath out, trying to calm her racing nerves, am I imagining this again, or is that really what he’s thinking, but pushed it away from her mind, trying to clear it. She opened the makeshift curtain, and stepped behind it, easing her dress off over her head, slipping the first of the dresses Nancy had picked for her on; it was black and tiny, hem high on her thigh, with two dual strips of fabric that covered her breasts. A va-va voom dress, as Momby would call it. He wants a show, so I’m going to give him one.

“What do you think,” Kenzie said coyly, pushing the curtain aside. She twirled as Duncan’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward, eagerly, her gold hair tossing over her shoulder.

“We are definitely going home with that one, angel.”

Kenzie grinned and stepped up to him, leaning down, pressing her mouth eagerly down onto his, standing between his legs; Duncan tried to put his hands around her, but she pulled away before he could. “I’m busy, baby,” she said, turning her head up, swinging her hips as she walked away from him. “You need to wait.”

“Ughhh, Kenzie, baby…”

“Shhhh.” Kenzie pushed the curtain closed again, her nerves thrilling under her skin. This was fun. When she opened it again, she was wearing a long-sleeved crewneck black dress with white lines around the waist and through the flaring skirt. More of an autumn dress than summer, she thought, but definitely something I’d wear.

“I like this one,” she said. Duncan smiled and nodded. “As many as you want, baby. I think my Mom would like that one, too.” Kenzie made a little face and went back behind the curtain. She tried on several other dresses; one that was a tawny color that didn’t seem to fit her correctly around the shoulders (not this one) and another, a black mini-dress with flowers embroidered along either side. “I love that one,” Duncan said, his eyes flickering over her little breasts, the curve of waist, and the incline of her thighs in its form-fitting confines. “I love you in flowers.”

“I like this one too. It’s summery. But maybe not right for dinner with your mother.”

“Still, if you like it, we’re getting it.”

Kenzie smiled at him; fuck, baby, this is so much fun. His hand was on his jaw, trailing along his bottom lip, and his eyes glittered at her, full of affection and adoration. Just look at me, baby, she thought. Just look at me like that always and I’ll never be sad again.

Kenzie opened the curtain again a minute later; this dress made Duncan’s eyes widen and his mouth fell open, his hands coming out, resting on his knees with urgency.

“Fuck, baby, fuck me,” he whispered. The dress was long, lacy and red, with a fitted bodice and two tiny straps over her shoulders; the lace was transparent around her legs, exposing her skin, extending up to a very short flesh-colored slip around her hips, the neckline low, her back exposed, her hair brushing against her shoulder blades as she turned around for him, heart beating against the moon pendant around her neck. Kenzie smiled at him over her shoulder; I want you so fucking bad, baby, his thoughts seemed to drift towards her again, his eyes roving up and down her body, hungrily, achingly; I want you right now, I want your clit in my mouth, I want your neck under my fingers, your hair against my skin, your mouth against mine. Goddess, angel, my Kenzie, most divine--

Kenzie moved up to him, close, between his legs again, and this time, she let him press his hands into the lace around her, let him press his mouth, achingly soft, into the skin just above where the moon pendant lay against her. “Kenzie, I want you so bad, baby, you’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful--”

“We can’t, baby, not right here--” but her mouth was opening to him and he was pressing one of his beautiful hands between her thighs, pulling her into his lap, fingers flitting under the hem of her underwear into the wetness spreading from the gathering heat there and she arched into his hand, their tongues coming against each other, and his thumb brushed up and down along her clit, making her shudder; Duncan worked his index finger up, rubbing it into her, the hardness at his crotch grinding up into the emptiness between her legs, and he said “I can make you come, though,” and he brought his finger down to the moisture at her cunt and brought it up to her clit, soaked in her arousal now, and he bit softly into her neck, once, twice, three times as he ground all of his concentrated devotion into her and she arched on his lap and he said “Kenzie, baby, fuck, I love you--” and she shuddered into his hand, her release abrupt and achingly hard and dizzying, and he brought his other hand up to her mouth and she stifled the scream of her orgasm into it, lips wet and kissing his palm.

“We are definitely getting this dress,” he murmured into her ear as she gasped against him, coming back down to earth.

Kenzie stood, wobbling a little; she could feel the wetness stuck against her panties now, and Duncan slid his finger away, still glistening with her; he pulled a tissue from his pocket, wiping her release onto it from his hand, bringing it to his nose for a moment (oh my god, baby) and tucking it back into his pocket. “Bad, bad baby,” she whispered as he grasped her hips to steady her. “Bad boy.”

“Uh huh,” Duncan said, flashing his beautiful smile at her, burying his face against her bare skin again. “I need to be punished, I guess.”

Kenzie gazed at him; he looked up into her face (blue like summer seas), mouth pressed into her with open devotion, wanton need. “Oh, you do, do you?” Kenzie whispered.

“I think so. If you want to. I think I’d like that. I think I’d like it if you tied me up.”

Oh my god, fuck yes. A shiver ran down Kenzie’s spine, cool air touching her bare shoulders in the red dress. “Okay, baby. I will. But you need to be patient.”

Duncan let go of her, but his eyes glittered still, and his smile was suggestive, a promise of things to come. “Okay, baby. I’ll be patient.”

“Good boy.” Kenzie stepped away from him, back to the curtain.

------

Kenzie tried on several other dresses, but the one they decided on for dinner with Annette was the first one Kenzie had laid eyes on; the black tweed with tiny sequins, a dress that looked like it belonged on the body of a Congresswoman having a tasteful lunch at a bistro. It’s not really a Kenzie dress, Mackenzie thought, but I’m terrified of this dinner tomorrow, and every little bit helps. I just hope she isn’t planning on dressing me all the time. Kenzie remembered the appointment she was supposed to go to with Annette on Saturday morning, to fit a dress for the Gala. Yep, 100% dreading that. In the end, they left Nancy’s boutique with five of the dresses that she’d hung on the rack for Kenzie; the tiny black one with the plunging neckline, the one with flowers embroidered along the sides, the black dress with white stripes, the lacy red dress that he made me come in with just his hands, Kenzie thought, good thing we didn’t get anything on it, her cunt twinging as Duncan grasped her fingers at the counter, and the dress she would wear to their dinner at Plume tomorrow. Kenzie dared not even look at the bill; she turned away from the register as Nancy and Duncan conversed pleasantly and nonchalantly, Nancy slipping them into vinyl hanging bags, wheeling a rack around to take to the BMW, Samuel already having driven back around to pick them up, Harris watching carefully from inside the doorway of the boutique, his expression relaxed and neutral. I guess thirty years of being a bodyguard makes you extremely patient. Kenzie felt dizzy and tired again; I can’t wait to see Claire, she thought. Claire always makes me feel like myself again, and I want her and Duncan to like each other so much.

“Sweet Mackenzie, it was lovely to meet you, I’m so glad I could help with this.” Nancy pushed the wheeled rack towards them and Duncan grasped it from her, carefully.

“Thank you for everything, Nancy,” Kenzie replied, blushing, remembering Duncan’s hands between her legs in the room upstairs, a short while ago. He looked at her, his smile sly, a promise to her that he was thinking about the same thing. Harris came up and pulled at the other end of the rack, bringing it out the door, carefully pressing the vinyl bags into the trunk of the BMW; he opened the door for Kenzie, smiling at her.

“Today has been so long,” Kenzie said, looking up at his friendly face, “But meeting you has made it wonderful. I’m so grateful…” She grasped the large man’s calloused hand for a moment as Duncan watched them from the opposite side of the car before he got in, his blue eyes full of affection as they fell over her gesture.

“Miss Mackenzie, I am grateful to have a charge who is so lovely in every way. The pleasure is mine. Today is one of many where I will be faithfully at your side. I look forward to this partnership.”

Kenzie slid into the seat, and Harris closed it behind her. Duncan laid a hand on her thigh, his face falling down to his iPhone for a moment, and Kenzie closed her eyes, tiredness washing over her; when she opened her eyes again, Kenzie noticed he’d had it raised up in front of her and was lowering it now, smiling at it. “Oh no, Duncan,” she murmured, “did you take another picture of me?”

Duncan bit his lip. “You looked so lovely.” He held it up to her; he’d already posted it on his profile. In the photo, Kenzie’s eyes were closed and her face was serene, the late afternoon sunlight falling over her cheek, the moon pendant glittering at her neck, golden waves thrown down her shoulders, a little pout at her mouth. “Oh no, ugh,” Kenzie complained. “Blackmail.” Sleepy angel. With the beating pink heart and ZZZ emojis. 800 likes and it’d only been seconds. “Fuck, people do not waste time on your photos, baby,” she murmured. But Kenzie felt too tired to care. Let them look. Her eyes drifted closed again, and her head fell onto Duncan’s shoulder, though she didn’t realize it; Kenzie felt the soft brush of Duncan’s lips in her hair, then she remembered nothing until the pulled up in front of the high-rise a few minutes later, the setting sun streaming against its glistening surface, Duncan shaking her awake, gently, his fingers on her cheek.

-----

“Let’s just get takeout for dinner,” Duncan said, and Kenzie grinned at him. Oh, thank god, you are an actual human being. “Ugh, yes, baby, definitely.” She was standing in the bedroom, surrounded by boxes, bringing her plants out one by one; Kenzie was still in the long-sleeved pleated dress, but her feet were bare, and Duncan had peeked his head into the room from where he’d been typing at his Macbook on the coffee table, deeply immersed in emails. “I’ve been dying for Chinese food, do you people eat that?”

“You people,” Duncan mimicked, making a face. “Are my horns showing again?”

“Yep, they’re glorious and terrifying. But I know I can defeat you with tickles.”

Duncan laughed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She wiggled her fingers at him and he disappeared from the doorway in faux terror. “Oh, wouldn’t I, Mr. Shepherd.”

“Please tell me Claire likes eggrolls, because I’m ordering like, at least ten.”

“Of course Claire likes eggrolls, she’s not a monster.”

“What a relief.” Duncan appeared in the doorway again, throwing his phone lazily onto the bed; he gathered her up in his arms. “I love those little plants you put in the kitchen, it looks like you now, like you and me, together. I love it so much, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” Kenzie sighed into him; when Duncan held her, it seemed as though every ache, every drop of tiredness floated away from her; I feel alive in his arms. Truly alive. She kissed him; “I love kissing you,” he said into her mouth, their lips parting then meeting again, and she nodded up into him as he lifted her, his body enveloping her, his hands at the back of her neck, the dip under her arm, threading through her hair. “I know today was a long day for you--you were so wonderful, so kind and lovely, and you always are--”

“Not always, baby,” she whispered into him. “I’m human too, I can be a cruel mistress.”

“But I’m yours, and I will forgive you every time.” His words fell against her and Kenzie felt her heart shake; she was struck again by the heavy hand of Fate, merciful, having brought them together. Please be with us tomorrow, I beg of you, for I am fucking terrified of Annette Shepherd. She went to speak; but the doorbell chimed again, for the second time that day.

“Claire!”

Kenzie ran to the door, jerking it open, and throwing herself into the arms of her Clairebear, Claire’s blonde shag bouncing back and her mouth shrieking into Kenzie’s ear as they hugged each other tightly. “Oh my god, I’ve missed you, bitch!” Claire pulled Kenzie back to look at her, then wrapped her arm around the back of Kenzie’s neck, tightly, squeezing her again. Kenzie dragged her inside the penthouse, grinning so widely she worried her face would split. Duncan came up behind her and Claire yanked him into a hug. “Get used to this, Duncan, I’m a hugger.”

“I could use more hugs, so that’s fine.” Duncan put his arm around Claire’s back, smiling at Kenzie over her shoulder.

Claire patted his cheek, pulling back. “I brought some really fucking good weed from Colorado.”

“Fuck yes!” Kenzie hopped up and down, her bare feet bouncing against the smooth marble kitchen floor. “Get this, Claire, Duncan eats Chinese food, I’m so fucking relieved.”

“What am I, a science experiment?” Duncan was smiling, though. “What kind of wine do you like, Claire?”

“Pfft, every kind, what kind of question is that, honey.”

“Every kind it is, then,” Duncan went into the fridge (it belongs in the future with the toaster, Kenzie thought), and brought out a bottle of vintage Moet, opening it deftly, the satisfying pop of the cork reverberating off the crystal-drop chandelier. “Champagne glasses?” She asked him, her eyes falling into his with desire. 

“Right side cabinet, top shelf, but how are you gonna reach them, baby?” 

“I have my ways.” Kenzie hoisted herself up onto the counter so she was kneeling on its smooth black surface, and she reached up carefully, bringing down three beautiful Waterford champagne coupes. “A lifetime of shortness has made me crafty.”

“Kenz, be careful.”

Claire was watching them with bright eyes; Kenzie looked back at her, and Claire shook her head. “You two are so stinkin’ cute, it’s pretty disgusting.”

Kenzie lept down from the counter and brought the glasses over to the island. Duncan poured the icy champagne into the first glass, cordially handing it to Claire; she smiled, delighted. He handed the next one to Kenzie, fingers lingering on her skin; and lastly, poured one for himself.

“To all the happiness in the days to come,” he said, his eyes shining at her, raising his coupe.

“To your mother not murdering me tomorrow,” she countered.

“To this fucking great weed we’re about to smoke,” Claire added, and clinked her glass against them both.

After they’d shared a bowl, Kenzie had dragged Claire from room to room, watching her friend’s face with delight as Claire gasped at Duncan’s rooms, at The Youth of Bacchus, at the wall-long window gazing down on the city, 30 stories down and a mile away; our rooms, she corrected herself, our apartment, my apartment, my penthouse, god, so fucking weird, but get used to it, Kenz, he’s yours and so is this, so is all of this. The weed crashed through her in a wave, down the base of her skull into the pit of her body and through her limbs, and the champagne was the best she’d ever tasted, heady and bittersweet and high. Music drifted from the overhead speakers, a hard drumbeat with a playful guitar twining around it (looking out for love, in the night so still / oh I’ll build you a kingdom, in that house on the hill); Claire stared at the window in awe, coupe clutched in her hand, and Duncan was stretched out on the low leather couch, Kenzie leaning against his feet and the crook of his bent knees, her hair falling down his thighs into his crotch; Duncan’s hands fell through it, his eyes fascinated and mesmerized.

“This is the most amazing place, Duncan,” Claire said, turning back to them. “Like, wow, the energy here is special.”

“It’s because Kenzie’s here now,” Duncan replied, matter-of-factly. “She’s the gold.”

“The gold?”

“Yes. Kenzie is gold.”

Kenzie laughed a little. “You’re high, baby.”

“So what. You’re still gold, angel. Gold forever, gold divine, gold of mine...”

Another song drifted from the speakers; strains of electronic chimes, ethereal and full of magic. So long ago, certain place, certain time…

“You touched my hand, all the wayyyy, all the way down to Emmeline--” Kenzie clear voice burst out into song towards Claire, and Claire grinned.

“But if our paths never cross, well you know, I’m sorry, but--”

Kenzie jumped up, Duncan’s hands slipping out of her hair, grabbing Claire’s hand (Claire set the Waterford coupe down carefully beside Dike’s scales, laughing, “Kenzie, jesus, watch out!”), whirling her around as the music pumped out of Duncan’s speakers, and he gazed at her, a serenely happy expression in his eyes as the light faded and the city came up through the window. If I live to see the Seven Wonders, I’ll make a path to the rainbow’s end, I’ll never live to match the beauty again, the rainbow’s end...

[littlej097]

For Those in My Heart - Chapter 9 “A Year of Firsts”

Prompt: Addy's First Birthday!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

The first year of Addy’s life had flown by exponentially fast. Neither Robin nor Regina could believe that their baby girl was already one year old. Regina had practically been making herself nuts as she prepared for Addy’s first birthday party. They had gone with a ladybug theme because of the little girl’s love for her stuffed ladybug. Robin had even taken to calling her his little ladybug. All the decorations were black and red. Roland and Henry had been blowing up red balloons and sticking black polka dots on them practically all morning. Regina had spent all last night creating a ladybug birthday cake. It had taken two tries but now that it was complete, it did look really good. She had also made ladybug cupcakes because she claimed that people needed options. “Everything is going to be fine, love,” Robin told her as he walked into the kitchen with Addy in his arms. 

“I just want everything to be perfect. You only get one first birthday.” Regina replied. 

“And it will be a wonderful first birthday,” Robin told her. “But you’re going to make yourself crazy and not enjoy it, if you’re so focused on it being perfect.” 

“Guests will be arriving soon and I have to get the birthday girl ready.” Regina replied. “Come here sweetie,” she added, stretching her arms to Addy. The little leaned from her father’s arms into her mother’s grasp.  Robin was not surprised that Addy had so readily gone to her mother. Once Regina had come to terms with the little girl’s existence, the two had become inseparable. It was no surprise when Addy chose what her first word was…

“She spoke Robin! She said her first word!” Regina had exclaimed as she ran into the living room with the little girl in her hands. 

“What did she say?” 

“She said Mama! I swear!” Regina said. “Come on baby, say it again. Say Mama!” she cooed at the baby. The little girl smiled her toothless grin at her mother and babbled out some kind of word. Robin wasn’t so sure it was Mama though. 

“I’m not so sure that was Mama…” Robin replied quietly. 

“Are you kidding me? It was clearly Mama.” Regina told him. “Weren’t you listening to her?” 

“It just sounded like babbling to me. I think you may have heard what you wanted to.” Robin laughed. Regina groaned at her fiance and practically stomped away with the baby in her arms. She had said Mama. Regina heard it and no one could tell her otherwise. Later on in the day, the family of five was sitting on the couch attempting to watch a movie. It was proving difficult however because Addy was rather fussy and kept crying. Robin was walking around with her, bouncing her gently, in an attempt to calm her. “What is it my love? What’s the matter? What do you want?” he cooed. Addy continued to cry and then all of a sudden she babbled out a very clear “Mama.” and reached out towards Regina. Robin gasped when he heard it...her first word. Regina smirked at her fiance and stood up to take the baby. 

“I told you she said Mama.” 

Robin was pulled from his thoughts when Regina returned from the nursery. Addy was dressed in a white onesie with a large red one with black polka dots. She was also wearing a red tutu and a headband with black and red flowers on it. “Well look at this little ladybug,” Robin cooed, taking his daughter into his arms. 

“Don’t know how long that outfit will stay clean with all her drooling but it’ll look cute for a while.” Regina replied. Ever since Addy had cut her first tooth, she had been drooling non stop. God, that had been a nightmare…

“God, can’t you make her stop screaming,” Henry groaned as he rested his head on the kitchen counter. 

“Yeah, she’s so loud,” Roland agreed. 

“She’s teething guys and it hurts. Try having a little sympathy.” Robin  told the two boys. He looked over to Regina who was walking around bouncing the screaming baby. There were dark circles under her eyes and Robin knew she was exhausted. Addy had kept them both up all night for the past few nights. He knew that the little girl was in pain and he felt bad for her. However, he also knew that if Regina didn’t get some sleep soon that she was going to pass out. 

“Sweetheart, would you like me to try?” he asked, walking over to Regina. The woman just shook her head. 

“We both know it has to be me.” Regina replied. She had tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve bounced her. I’ve rocked her. I gave her the teethers. I let her bite on my finger. She will not stop crying. I’m-I’m so tired, Robin.” Robin had feared this moment was going to happen. Without a second thought, he took the screaming infant from her arms. 

“Love, go and lie down.” Robin told her. 

“But-” 

“She will be fine. She’s just teething. Crankiness is expected.” the man replied. “It doesn’t matter who’s arms she’s crying in. And, you’re exhausted and look like you’re ready to drop.” 

“I-I have to go to work.” Regina tried. 

“I’ll call your assistant and tell her to clear your schedule.” Robin told her. “You’re in no shape to try and work today. Just go and rest.” Feeling completely exhausted, Regina finally gave him. She gave Robin a  look and said, “Thank you,” before heading to their bedroom to get some rest.  Robin spent the rest of the day trying to stop his daughter’s pain. Eventually, Addy settled down to sleep and Robin let out a sigh of relief and flopped down on the couch.  It was then that Regina wandered into the living room, still dressed in her pajamas. 

“Feeling better?” 

“Much,” Regina replied. “You got her to sleep?” She asked motioning to the baby. 

“I think she just wore herself out from crying.” Robin told her honestly. “I don’t think I had much to do with it.” 

“Well regardless, at least, she’s stopped crying.” Regina crawled onto the couch and cuddled herself into Robin’s embrace. “Thank you…” 

“For what?” 

“For knowing what was best for me and stopping my crazy.” Regina replied. 

“You weren’t crazy, my love. You were exhausted.” Robin told her. “You are the best mother but sometimes you have to take care of yourself. And it is abundantly clear that our daughter likes you better than she likes me but I can help too.” He added with a laugh. 

“That’s not true.” She pauses for a second “Okay, it’s a little true,” she admitted. “Next time, I will let you help more.” 

“That’s what I like to hear.” Robin replied as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Regina’s lips. Then, as if she knew it was a bad time, Addy began to cry. 

“I’ll get her,” Regina sighed. She walked over to the pack n play and pulled the baby out. The little girl seemed to be in better spirits. She smiled at her mother and reached happily for her face. When she smiled, she flashed a now toothy grin. “It popped through!” Regina said excitedly. “You have a tooth” she cooed. 

“Now, we only have 19 more to go,” Robin retorted. He was glad that his baby girl finally had some relief. However, the realization that they would have to go through this 19 more times was not something that Robin wanted to think about. 

Since that day, Addy had grown six more teeth to add to her toothy grin. She looked incredibly cute whenever she flashy that cheeky little grin at anyone. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Guests are here.” Regina said as she made her way over to the door. When she opened it, Snow, Charming and Neal were outside with Emma and Hook. “Come in,” Regina said, opening the door wider. “Thank you for coming guys,” 

“As if we’d miss Addy’s first birthday,” Snow chorused. “Where is the birthday girl?” “She’s right here.” Robin said as he walked in from the kitchen. 

“Oh my goodness, look at the little ladybug outfit!” Snow cooed. “She looks so cute! I can’t believe how big she’s gotten.”  

“Neither can I,” Regina replied. “But anyway, come in. There’s food and drinks in the kitchen.” The group of people filed into the kitchen and over the next hour more people showed up. Granny and Ruby were next come, followed by Leroy and the rest of the dwarves. Archie also showed up a little later and of course, all the Merry Men were present. They were all talking happily when Regina announced it was time to bring out the birthday cake. She situated Addy in her high chair with just her headband and diaper on. She anticipated that things were about to get messy. After Addy was situated, she walked in with the birthday cake with one lit candle. Everyone began to sing. 

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Addy, Happy Birthday to you!” When the singing ended, Robin and Regina each blew on the single candle, until the flame turned to black smoke and everyone clapped. 

“Alright, let’s cut this cake.” Robin announced. He took the cake to the counter and cut one slice, which he handed to Regina. She took the piece of cake and set it down in front of Addy. The little girl looked at it curiously. She tentatively reached her hand out and touched the cake. She made a face at first and recoiled at the touch. 

“It’s cake, baby,” Regina said. She stuck her finger into the icing and got just enough to place inside Addy’s mouth. The little girl sucked the icing of her finger and smiled. Her eyes grew wide and everyone could see that she liked the cake. She reached down with her chubby little hands and grabbed the cake. With both hands, she shoved it into her mouth, getting icing all over her face in the process. 

“Well, I think the lass likes her cake.” Hook said with a laugh. 

“It’s a miracle she eats anything,” Regina replied. That sure was the truth. When they first started feeding Addy solids, she didn’t think they’d ever find a food that she’d actually eat. 

“Alright my little love bug, let’s try some peas.” Regina prompted as she pushed the baby spoon into her daughter’s mouth. As soon as the green mush touched her tongue, Addy instantly spit it back out. “Okay… I guess we don’t like peas.” She grabbed another jar of baby food. “What about carrots?” she asked, once again trying to feed her daughter. This time, Addy didn’t just let the food roll off her tongue. She full on spit it out, some particles landing on her mother’s skirt. “I guess that would be a no.” 

“She eat anything?” Henry asked, walking into the kitchen

“No. She doesn’t like peas and she definitely doesn’t like carrots.” Regina replied, motioning to her skirt. 

“We should make her eat a lemon.” Henry replied with a laugh. 

“Henry!” 

“What? It’d be funny. She’s not eating anyway. Might as well get a laugh out of it.” Henry told her. He went to the fridge and grabbed a lemon. He cut a slice and walked over to his sister and mother. 

“Henry…” Regina warned. 

“It’s not gonna kill her mom. Lighten up.” Henry told her. “Plus isn’t it a big brother’s job to tease his little sister just a little bit.” Without a second thought, Henry brought the lemon up to his sister’s lips. “Open up Ads,” he said. Surprisingly, the little girl opened up her mouth and sucked onto the lemon. She pursed her lips and scrunched up her nose at the sour taste. Both Henry and Regina laughed.  Despite the taste, Addy reached for the lemon once more and Henry let her have it. She once again made a sour face, but just kept eating it. “I can’t tell if she actually likes it or not.” 

“I’m not sure if she even knows.” Regina told him. 

“Well at least she eats something now,”Henry replied to his mother. Regina scoffed. Her baby was not going to eat lemons for the rest of her life. But Regina was determined and she wasn’t giving up. She practically bought every flavor of baby food that the store sold and she was going to have Addy try every single flavor until she found something that the little girl would eat. After a few dozen jars of baby food and a lot of patience, Regina found that Addy was partial to fruits. It wasn’t a perfect solution but it was definitely a start. 

As Addy continued to eat her birthday cake, she didn’t just shove the cake into her mouth. She transitioned to putting it on her head and in her hair. “Oh no!” Regina exclaimed as she tried to grab her daughter’s icing covered hands. “I wasn’t expecting that,” she added with a laugh. 

“Looks like little miss is gonna need a bath,” Robin replied with a laugh. “She has so much cake in her hair.” 

“Just imagine how bad it would be if you hadn’t let me cut her hair.” Regina retorted. Addy’s recent haircut had actually caused quite the argument between her and Robin. 

“No, absolutely not.” Robin said. 

“Robin, she needs a haircut.” Regina shot back. 

“Her hair is fine.” 

“It’s all in her eyes.” Regina told him. “She can barely see.” Robin looked at his daughter. She smiled at him behind the dirty blonde ringlets that fell in front of her eyes. “Listen, I’m not talking about giving her a buzz cut. I just want her to be able to see.” 

“I haven’t even cut Roland’s hair.” 

“That’s an argument for another day.” Regina replied. 

“You want to cut his hair as well?” 

“I want them to get a trim, Robin! I’m not scalping them.” Regina retorted. “Listen, I made an appointment at the hairdresser for noon and we’re going.” She said motioning to her and Addy. 

“I guess I don’t really get a say,” Robin answered in an indignant tone. 

“You could come with us.” Regina suggested. Robin knew in that moment he had lost. Regina was stubborn and there was no changing her mind, so Robin decided to go along. Just before noon, they wandered into the children’s hairdresser. The inside of the shop was painted in bright primary colors and the seats weren’t normal ones. Instead they were shaped like planes, trains and cars. 

“Hi guys,” The girl at the counter said. “How can I help you?” 

“We have an appointment for noon,” Regina replied.  

“Of course,” The girl replied sweetly. “Who’s getting a trim?” 

“That would be this little one,” Regina said, pointing to Addy. 

“Alright, little princess, let’s get you started. Who wants to hold baby?” 

“I will,” Regina replied. She climbed into the chair and positioned Addy on her lap. Almost instantly the little girl began to squirm and cry. “Shh, Shh, it’s okay,” Regina cooed, trying to get the little girl to stop crying. 

“Dada!” the baby girl cried, reaching out to Robin. 

“She wants you.” Regina said. “You’ll have to hold her.” Robin frowned. This wasn’t part of the agreement but he of course took the little girl into his arms and climbed into the plane shaped seat. ���This is too cute. I need a picture.” Regina exclaimed as she pulled out her phone. “Smile!” 

“Alright, should we get started?” the girl asked. She took a tiny pair of scissors and began to line up where she wanted to cut. 

“Not too short,” Robin told the girl. 

“I promise not to take too much off.” Gently, she trimmed the hair in front of Addy’s eyes. When she was finished, she pulled Addy’s hair up into a cute tiny ponytail and placed a bow in her hair. 

“Oh my goodness, she looks so cute.” Regina exclaimed, once again snapping pictures. Robin couldn’t take the cuteness either. He hadn’t wanted Addy to lose her hair but he could see now that the haircut was needed. She smiled her toothy grin at him and Robin’s heart just melted. He loved this little girl so much. When the girl was finished, she handed Robin a cute little bag with a single lock of Addy’s dirty blonde hair. 

“For the baby book.” The girl told them. Regina took the hair and placed it in her purse as they paid. Then the three of them went out to get into the car. 

“See, I told you she’d look cute.” Regina told him. 

“Yes, love, you were right.” Robin conceded. 

“Now...what will it take to get you to let me cut Roland’s hair?” 

“That is an argument for another day,” Robin replied with a smirk on his face. Two could play at that game. 

After Addy, had finished her cake, Regina took her upstairs and gave her a quick bath, not wanting to keep her guests waiting much longer. When she went back downstairs, everyone was practically chomping at the bit for her to open up her presents. Snow and Charming had bought her two cute outfits and a stuffed horse that Addy absolutely loved. Emma had found a precious baby red leather jacket and Hook had gotten her a set of plush pirate toys. The gifts were practically endless. 

“So, is she walking yet?” Snow asked. 

“Not yet.” Robin replied. 

“She pulls herself up on stuff but she hasn’t actually taken any real steps yet.” Regina replied. She watched as Addy crawled around on the floor. From across the room, Addy spotted her favorite ladybug toy that was currently in Neal’s hands. Addy was determined if anything. She pushed herself up onto her two feet and eyed down the ladybug toy. Determined to get to it, she took a hesitant step towards the toy. And then she took another step...and then another. 

“Robin! She’s walking! She’s walking! Get the camera!” Regina exclaimed. “That’s right baby, keep coming.” She cooed. Everyone watched as Addy tottled her way over to where Neal was standing and reached for the ladybug toy. She grabbed onto it and refused to let go. She pulled the toy from Neal’s hands and fell down onto her butt, as happy as could be as she chewed on the stuffed ladybug. Every cheered and Regina picked up her little girl and kissed her cheek. “I am so proud of you!” She couldn’t believe it. Her little baby was one year old. She was walking and talking and giggling and smiling. Time was going by so quickly and Regina wanted to soak up every minute of it. After all, you only got to have a first birthday party once and luckily for them, this one turned out to be pretty perfect. 

[rrrawrf]

twas the day before thanksgiving

so, naturally, the airport went to hell in a handbasket.

credit to @thewinedarksea for the edit!!

so i’m gonna take y’all through this step by step.

my usual schedule is 530am to 600pm. a couple weeks ago, to be nice, i took a coworker’s 3 to 6 shift today on top of this, because they have a family and a real life outside their job, and meanwhile i’m just an airport troll who lives there anyway.

usually i work ramp or ops, because i like them better than dealing with passengers. today, i am actually the gate agent :) all day. :) :) :)

so we start today off nice and easy, with a mainline flight to denver that leaves at 705 am and is, of course, oversold. because it’s the day before thanksgiving, so of course it is.

fortunately, someone doesn’t show up for their flight, so we board everything smoothly, get gate checks, everyone has their seat assignment, it’s just another flight. i have to supervise my gate assist when she pulled the jetbridge back from the plane bc she is new and nervous, and then literally right after that, i have to go supervise two of the rampers in deicing the plane bc they are also new and nervous.

everything goes fine. it’s fine. no big deal.

next plane is a chicago flight (ORD #1) at like 9 something or other. we don’t usually have this chicago flight during the off season, so i had no idea i was working it until like 20 minutes before it landed.

scootch my bootch upstairs to deal with it. i’m merrily going about giving seat assignments to passengers when i get a call from downstairs.

“lisa there is a pet going on this flight, i need you to come accept it”

“admin j, my sign in does not work for this airport (still)”

“can you please come down i am sending another gate agent”

i go back downstairs while a very nice lady coworker takes over for me at the gate

turns out, the governor of a state i used to live in is flying out! turns out, he is also shipping a dog! turns out, we only found out AFTER the load plan had been locked, so we can’t get the dog on the plane! turns out! the governor and his dog aren’t even at the airport yet!

(: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (:

my manager, thankfully, gets involved as me and our main ops agent say no, we cannot get this dog on this plane, load planning cut us off, the guy isn’t even here, he doesn’t get to try and ship a dog less than an hour before departure and not even be here with the dog.

while my manager is down at the counter trying to manage things, this poor old lady who just wants to check in and needs wheelchair assistance shows up, so i bail on my manager and wheel her up to security

“i ship dogs with you guys all the time!” says the very late and angry governor to my manager, as i gleefully make my escape with a very kind old woman who later gives me a ten dollar tip

i manage not to flip the governor off, but his assistant may have heard me call the governor a bastard very loudly in the break room. i feel bad about this. i thought he was the mayor of a very large city by a very large lake, who with which my friends back in said state have had previous experience with in the flying arena.

when i get the lady back up to ORD #1, my fellow gate agent is just starting pre-boarding, so i just swoosh kind lady on down to the plane and help her to her seat, come back, displace a ramp agent who has some gate training as he tried to help the actual gate agent seat people. it was very kind of him, but he was out of practice and i took over and let him abscond back to the outdoors to throw bags, as i look on longingly from the gate windows and wish that i, too, could return to my natural habitat.

we rock ORD #1, get it out on time, everyone celebrates and i do my paperwork

time for ORD #2!

this is a smaller plane. it has 4 open first class seats. it has no one on the upgrade list. the only people with status were the very basic united credit card holders who really don’t get any benefit from the credit card at all.

do you know what this means?

it means i get to go hog wild.

we’re oversold by three in economy, so i have to upgrade people. i upgrade a dad and his lil son bc they had a hilarious last name and bc i just wanted to make someone’s day. i also upgrade a young couple. upgrading these four people meant i could throw two parents and their three kids together, a mom and her kid, her husband and their other kid, all in good seats next to each other with no families being separated. a guy on the heavier side asks if i can get him some extra legroom. unfortunately, i gave all the extra legroom seats to people with kids, BUT i have two empty seats in the back, so i move a couple people from a row back a row up and free up the guy his own row.

i am l i v i n g

breaking policy left and right

throwing upgrades away like oprah

it’s a thanksgiving miracle

(i go down to the plane to give the flight attendants their paperwork. they are less than thrilled with the woman of the younger couple that i upgraded - she was being mean and disrespectful. i feel bad for the amount of time it takes me to close the door and pull the jetbridge back, bc how would i have known this girl who got a free upgrade would be a witch? karma will get her back later.)

and then

ḑ̴̥̭̪̝͉̰̈́̓̆̃̈́̓̎̎͐̀͗ ȩ̸̧̛̠͈͚̺̪̣̙̳̲̲͍͎̰͛̾͌̉̉̓̑̓̂͠ n̷̡̡̻̬͎̫̦̹̰̹͈̫̏͘͜͝ͅ v̵̫̬̫͋̔̆̊ e̵̟͗͐́̓ r̸̡͕͈͎̟̜̣̠̰̖̦̒͊̆̓̈́̅̉̔̑͛̐̍̕̚͜͜͝

because it’s the day before thanksgiving, our big boy mainline denver is oversold by two! because of course it is!

i start soliciting for volunteers right away. amazingly, i get three (technically five, but two were a pregnant lady and her husband, so i just went “nope we are not putting them through this nonsense” and ignored that)

the first kid was actually a volunteer for the same flight yesterday, and got bumped, and he volunteered again because he didn’t want to spend any more time with his family in seattle than he had to

#mood

two girls who are going to just denver also volunteer. i very happily take them, because volunteers are literal angels and should have shrines built in their honor

as it turns out, by the time we stop checking people in, we need only one volunteer. boy going to seattle is first on the list, so he gets to stay (he ends up on san fran flight later). i shoo the two very lovely girls onboard, along with the older couple who would have been involuntarily denied boarding, had a pack of millenials who don’t want to go home for thanksgiving not shown up to go “please give me a reason to stay in montana”

fellow gate agent and i spend the next six years trying to figure out how to process an oversale by ourselves. it goes well. kid walks away with 800 dollars of travel vouchers from yesterday, and 900 today, and ends up with 1700 all total. he is gaming the system and i am unceasingly proud of him for it.

normally, this would be the end of my day. 

it is not.

because now we have

the californias

because half of california is on fire and also experiencing extreme winds, our los angeles flight (LAX) is delayed by like four hours. our san francisco flight (SFO) is on a ground hold for an hour.

because it’s the day before thanksgiving. 

the reason i usually work 530 to 3pm is because i’m willing to get up early, than stay late, because the californias are always late. and if it isn’t the californias, it’s our last baby denver plane (denver the third). because DEN #3 is flown by gojet. and gojet is consistently late.

except for today.

SFO gets here first, and then are on the ground for like an hour because they’re only delayed because of a ground hold in san fran because of smoke and high wind speeds. everything is chill. no one comes up to me to get rebooked. pilot asks for a departure time 3 minutes before what the computer says, and i give it to him.

now, at this point, the delay on LAX is known. it is in the system. pax would have been notified via phone, email, and the flight boards in the gate.

so, naturally, you would think that people on LAX who need to be rebooked would come up to me in the hour before i have to board SFO, right?

when i have the time? when i can take fifteen minutes to look at their itinerary and work something out?

lol

miss mary, older lady who is a little worried but overall a pleasure to work with, shows up just before i start boarding SFO and needs to get to sacramento and was on that LAX flight

i have no gate assist, because denver #3 just landed at the other gate and the other two gate agents are dealing with it next door.

so i have to board this plane, and i can get miss mary on only if one passenger doesn’t check in before thirty minutes to departure

fortunately for miss mary, they do not

unfortuantely for miss mary, she has to stand there while i board, try to rebook her, stop boarding bc the preboarding woman who thought she could use a walker on the plane (you can’t, aisle is too narrow) needs an aisle chair to get to her seat, make one of my rampers stand at the door and keep everyone from boarding, run down the jetbridge, aisle chair this poor older woman on, apologize 500000 times because i should have just taken the initiative, boarded her like ten minutes early, and done it myself because none of the rampers know how to use an aisle chair, then run back up to the gate, finish rebooking poor miss mary, reroute her bag and get her on the plane

that would have been enough

BUT THEN

i am paging the last two SFO passengers. they’re being stupid and not there. fourteen minutes to departure, which is four minutes to closing the main cabin door, a guy shows up

“hey uh if those two people you’re calling don’t show up, can we get on this flight? ours is delayed”

:| “no”

“are you sure?”

“i cannot rebook you in four minutes”

he leaves. two minutes later, his girlfriend comes, while i am still boarding, and asks the same thing

i get angry with her

“is there really no way?”

“well i could delay the plane for you,” i snap, very frustrated by this point

i think i scared her, she backs off

five seconds later, my last two idiot passengers show up anyway and the plane is full, so gf and her bf wouldn’t have been able to switch onto my plane anyway

sidenote: for anyone who thinks that rebooking you is a matter of like two minutes and a smile

it is not.

i get SFO out, which much pain and almost tears (but i didn’t cry!!!!!)

meanwhile, next door, three of my other gate agents are scrambling to do denver #3

tryna get another girl on LAX onto denver #3 instead, one coworker is on the phone with her dad who is trying to work things out

HALFWAY THROUGH BOARDING DENVER #3

THE MOBILE BRIDGE ADAPTER BREAKS

the MBA is a little bridge we use on certain aircraft that we can’t bring the jetbridge up to as closely, so we just scoot a lil bridge out to the plane

the right hand railing won’t stay upright

so i yell at gate 6 to stop boarding, drag the broken MBA out of the plane, run over to gate 7, yell at a ramper to help me drag that MBA over to 6, get it set up, have to run back up to gate 6 to yell at them to start boarding again, because no one! is listening! to the radio!!!!!

they are still trying to rebook this poor girl on denver #3. last minute, her dad changes his mind and says no bc we can’t guarantee she will get to sacramento that night

we took

a one minute delay

because of this bullcrap

anyway after the flight was gone one of the other gate agents got her onto a delta flight, so that’s good for her

now we still have like three hours before stinkin’ LAX even gets here

things kinda slow down - except my dearest darlingest coworker x

oh, x :)

x COMMITS A VIOLATION OF SECURITY REGULATIONS BY BRINGING A BAG THAT HAD GONE THROUGH SCREENING INTO THE PASSENGER AREA

NO, X

YOU CAN’T DO THAT

X

W H Y

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

fortunately, no one is arrested and we get it sorted out. i nearly have a heart attack. we’re most definitely going to get an email about this.

at this point, it is 640pm. we are overstaffed bc we only have one plane to come in, so supervisor sends most of the rampers home

and

praise hallelujah

they send me home

and i wrote this

[blahblahemblem]

heroes barracks tour: infantry part 1 (colourless)

As infantry units are by far the most common, it only makes sense to split them up into several posts. I’m starting with colourless as that covers two different physical weapons and all of my army of healers.

But first, as usual, updates!

Armour update

Build improvements

Refined w!Tharja’s Candelabra for +def.

New units

+def –atk

I just pulled her this morning :D

The bane is really unfortunate; if my sources are correct it’s a superbane (-4 instead of -3) which frankly kind of sucks. That said, I intend on building her with Blarblade+ which would make up for the loss in damage.

Otherwise there’s nothing but great news here. I’ve completed the mage armours trifecta, got another unit with Armour March, and a 40% bonus for the upcoming Tempest Trials. The only reason I haven’t levelled her yet is that I refuse to do it in the Training Tower and today’s training maps (all fliers) are really not suited for –atk magic users with 1 movement. 

Plans

Blarblade+, Moonbow, Draw Back for Lyn. I should have enough feathers for that fairly soon.

Flier update

Build improvements

1. Caeda now has access to a personal weapon, the Wing Sword, although I don’t have enough SP for it yet. 2. Gave s!Camilla Gronnblade+, Draw Back, and Darting Blow 3. 3. Inherited LaD3, Glimmer, and Reposition to Shanna (my free summon on Love Abounds was a 4* Sothe) 4. Gave Renewal 3 to Nowi 5. Beruka is now +4 and has Bonfire

New units

+hp –def

I got her from Love Abounds actually and not Sacred Memories, and also yesterday, which is why she’s still unlevelled. It’s kind of ironic; I tried summoning for her on SM and got pitybroken at 4%, then I summoned on a different banner and she pitybroke me at 4%.

-def is hindering to her as Great Flame’s effect relies on it, but oh well. It does make me consider giving her Lightning Breath+ instead. It would give me access to another DC flier at a relatively low cost, and I could refine it for more def. I still have that one Hector lying around, which is an option, but I don’t want to use him on yet another green.

Whatever I do with her, it’s awesome that I have her, as she fits two separate teams. On the one side, she provides Hone Dragons (although to be honest that’s not anything gamebreaking for me as all of my dragon builds rely on QR making the +6 speed boost rather pointless). On the other side, she is another source of magic damage for my fliers.

Plans

Nothing new short-term besides figuring out a B slot for Myrrh

Cavalry update

GUESS WHO’S BACK

yaaaaay i only waited like 9 months

Yes I got him this morning like everybody else and immediately levelled him I WAITED NINE MONTHS, I saved that PA Olivia and that 2* Subaki for ages, fucking FINALLY

I gave him one of my Wind blessings, largely because I just wanted the SP boost, but it doesn’t hurt that if I ever pull Gunnthra she’s likely going to be on the same team as him and he could really use the extra Res. Distant Defence helps, of course, but only so much.

I’m going to merge him later, obviously.

Back to infantry

Bows

+atk –def

I got her randomly from Rite of Shadows (Celica and co’s first banner).

This build is an absolute mess. I just threw together a bunch of scraps for her when she was a bonus unit in the second ever Tempest Trials. It functioned okay there but there’s not a whole lot she can do now. She’s just really not suited for her own default build, Firesweep weapons are for fast glass cannons while Faye is slow and bulky.

Usage: She has 3k HM. The bulk of it was from the aforementioned TT, and the rest I grinded out afterwards on autobattle just for feathers. Now with the rise of shit like Zelgius, Firesweep + Poison Strike can be useful in AA provided there’s a dancer (not a problem considering I have 7) and only one foe left.

Future improvements: I’m interested in a Guard Bow build. In fact that was going to be the next thing on my to-do list (chosen randomly), but V!Lyn’s arrival overthrew Faye there, sorry girl

+spd –def

Baby boy. Baby.

I got him on the first day I’ve had this account, with the 10 Nintendo Network gift orbs from a full colourless circle, and I love him very much. He was my summoner support for a while. Then he became overshadowed by a different unit I built who did the exact same thing as him but better and also I loved him more because you know who he is, but I’ve missed using him so I didn’t hesitate at all in feeding off the dupe Faye I got from Legendary Ike’s banner. Now he has a niche again.

Usage: Oh boy. I used him for the first four Tempest Trials, and those were a lot more difficult than the ones now and I didn’t autobattle, so you can imagine. He was one of the first units to max HM... twice... and he has 3500 HM again now and going to be a bonus unit in the new TT so lol. I’ve also used him to clear high-end content like GHBs many times.

Improvements: LaD3 as soon as I get another Sothe. I’m also going to start merging him. I got a ton of Kleins while trying to pull for NY!Takumi, and I have 3 in my barracks. I’ve decided that every second one I pull goes towards merges, so that’s one merge for now.

+hp –spd

From Fjorm’s banner.

Unbelievably shitty IVs, of course, but it doesn’t matter. I wanted her primarily because her art is amazing. I wasn’t going to build her with BB+ or Firesweep over Klein and my baby, so in a way I was kind of relieved she wasn’t +spd or +atk, that way I had a justification for prioritising them that wasn’t just personal bias :D

Usage: As you can see she doesn’t even have her default C slot learned yet. I’m planning on using her as a TT healer at some point (through BoL6).

I’ve said before how I feel about Corrin as a character, but Maiponpon draws him so cute I can’t stay mad at him. Look at his wittle face

Anyway, this is a very simple build, pretty much just his default set with Bonfire + Bowbreaker, to capitalise on his own bulk and the defensive buffs he provides to other units. Also, this screenshot was taken before I refined his Hama Ya (for +def).

Usage: He does stuff in AA sometimes, his primary function is to be a bow Lyn counter

+spd –res

The apple of my eye, my child whom I raised all these years etc etc. From Hero Fest 1 :D

All I ever wanted when Heroes was announced was to have a Takumi. Well, here he is with perfect IVs to boot. I love him so much. It’s impossible to tell from menu screenshots like this (unless you know the stats by heart I guess), but he’s my current summoner support.

Quad builds are very powerful; I know not everybody likes them but I do. Oh I do.

Usage: he has 9999 SP take a wild guess

Improvements: Threaten Spd isn’t really the best C slot, but I haven’t really figured out what it can possibly be replaced with

+atk –something, +9

I just realised looking at this that he has the same def/res as Takumi :D

He’s actually +10 now, I just didn’t bother taking the screenshot. Virion, similarly to Est, is a product of spite more than anything, but I do actually kind of like him as a character, so there’s that.

I don’t really have a lot to say about him, he’s just there. I’m going to merge 4* Virions I get instead of sending them home, so that maybe one day I can upgrade him from here to a 4*+10.

Daggers

+hp –res

Got her on the first day of Performance Arts.

Honestly there’s not much to say, she’s a dancer and does dancer things with her dancer build. And her chibi sprite is unbelievably adorable.

Usage: dancer tier

+atk –hp

Apparently I pulled her at 4* on the first day, so when I switched mains and looked at what I had it was a pleasant surprise. I’d had great experiences using a +atk Kagero on my other accounts by then, so it wasn’t a difficult decision to promote her.

Usage: I actually don’t use her all that much outside of AA because she doesn’t do very well against non-infantry teams. Still, I’d say she’s worth the investment even in the current meta.

neutral

mochi baby

The other day I was reading my old comments on the FEH subreddit and found this gem in a thread that was about which characters you wanted to be added drawn by which artist:

Naturally I had to do everything in my fucking power to get him and at 4,50% (...after another 4% broken by Airzura) he came home <3

I don’t know what this build is supposed to be. Antimage, I guess? The double BoLs are because I used him as a combat medic in the two TT minis. He also has Iceberg learned but for TTs a big nuke with Glacies is better, considering Kagami Mochi has a killer effect anyway.

Usage: See above, combat medic for TTs. I’ll probably continue to use him to fill an extra slot and cover healing until he maxes HM (although for the next TT the main team slots are all taken, sorry boo)

Improvements: Desperation is kind of silly now that he no longer has boosted stats from being a bonus unit and I should replace it with something but I haven’t decided what. I might also throw him a Sothe at some point for a neat 51/41 offensive spread.

+1 iirc, +spd –something

This is a consideration more than anything. I don’t really like Gaius’ art but I do love Gaius, and daggers are in a marginally better place than before or at least more interesting, so if I get more 4* copies of him I might build something out of that, probably with a Smoke Dagger.

Staves

+spd –hp

Free summon from Maria and Minerva’s BHB banner, and my only 5* healer, lol.

I have the exact same IVs on a 4* copy, which is now merged to +4. My plan with all healers (that aren’t 5* exclusive, not that I have any of those) is to make them 4*+10s with 5* unlocked staves, so I guess once I get 3 or 4 more Marias I will merge this one into the 4* copy as well. I like the golden sparkles and everything but stats are more important, and I’m just not willing to work on 5* merges for healers on my main.

Since healers don’t really differ that much from one another, at least not when they’re 4*, here’s the rest of the ones I have. I’m not going to look up their IVs because who cares. Most of them will have theirs changed before I’m done with them.

(both +4)

(+2)

(+1 iirc?)

That’s pretty much all. I’m going to promote a copy of Azama/Serra/Wrys/Lissa/Clarine (who’s a horse but I didn’t talk about her or Prissy last time) once I get them to a high merge level to unlock their staves. As for Sakura/Lucius/Lachesis/Priscilla I’m probably just going to wait until they inevitably pitybreak me so I don’t waste my feathers.

Part 2 will cover tomes and also probably V!Eliwood!

[feelsgood-anon]

Eros - Bar AU Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This piece is a Mystic Messenger AU.  It is heavily inspired by the American sitcom Cheers, a show centered around a Boston bar called Cheers and it’s regulars.  Even though I have tried to keep as much of canon personalities with all the Mystic Messenger characters just remember that it is an AU and a few things may be different than in game or your headcanons. This has been fun to plan and I hope you find a bit of joy reading it!  

PG13+ for swearin’ and boozin’.

Ch.1 Pt.1 | Ch. 1 Pt. 2 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 |

The sky at night is normally something people don’t experience as much as much as the bright productiveness that the sunny days bring. Sure, It’s fun to look at the stars and find the constellations. You can let your imagination run wild as you travel through space between the wonders that most humans could never experience first hand.

if you are one of the unlucky ones that can’t find the comforts of sleep, the moon can become your best friend.

A friend. Is it really a friend? Or your worst enemy?

“No! They wanted two beers and a vodka tonic! What’s wrong with you?” Cannon grabbed the drinks off Sunny’s tray, slamming them onto the bar top, “Get your shit together! If I have to cancel my weekend off because you can’t get drink orders right I’m going to scream!” He quickly placed another set of glasses on the tray and shoved it towards the girl, “You’ve been here for two weeks and you still can’t get this right? What are you, dumb?”

She steadied the tray onto her arm as she looked down, “I’m sorry…I’ve been really distracted lately. I have this important essay due in class and I’ve spent a lot of time concentrating on it.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me, and one that shouldn’t affect my work. Maybe you should manage your time a bit better so it doesn’t get in the way.” He snatched his writing pad from the counter and walked off to tend to tables with an air of annoyance following him. Sunny sniffled a bit and hobbled over to her table.

How many times did Zen say he was going to get the flooring replaced at the tables near the back? It was obvious that he never got around to it and as Sunny, a person that still wasn’t completely used to the place, walked over the uneven surface she tripped up enough to go tumbling to the ground. The sound of the shattering glass echoed through the entire bar and she immediately shut her eyes, face flushing in embarrassment.

“Are you okay, Sunny?” Zen ran around from the back of the bar to kneel at her side, “Did you get cut? Don’t move, there’s glass everywhere. Cannon! Grab a broom!”

Cannon came by soon enough and simply glared down at the two, “Are you serious? Not only are you dumb but you’re clumsy as well? Let me go ahead and cancel my plans now since I know I’ll have to come in this weekend. Unbelievable!”

Sunny’s shoulders trembled as she slowly sat up, “I-I’m…sorry…” A few tears trickled to the floor before she stood up and ran into the restroom. Zen frowned and twirled his head around towards the other server, “My office. Now.” Cannon scoffed and threw the broom and dustpan to the floor, his feet stomping loudly as he went to the room, “Should I sit on your mess of papers or the piles of trash?”

Zen ignored the taunts as he cleaned up the mess, apologizing profusely to the patrons at the table and offered drinks on the house. Returning to the bar he quickly prepared the drinks once more, “Red, what is with your brother tonight? He’s been rotten to Sunny. Has he been having issues sleeping again?”

“Not that I know of. Go on and talk to him, I’ll deliver these drinks and watch the bar while you take care of business.” Once Red pushed him away Zen let out a deep sigh and walked into his office. As he slammed the door closed he glared at Cannon, “You want to tell me why you’ve been giving Sunny hell? She’s been trying her hardest but you just keep dragging her through the mud.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“YOU MADE HER CRY!” Zen was exasperated at this point with Cannon’s apathy towards the situation. “If you really want to have the weekend off you should think about being nicer to her so she isn’t as stressed and can handle things without you.”

Cannon scoffed as he looked away from his boss. He rarely looked him in the eye when there were issues since Zen had this weird way of deciphering emotions through facial expressions. His body seemed to curl into itself as he sat on the couch, “It doesn’t matter anyway! She’s messing up left and right so I know you are just going to call me in. What’s the point in babying her?”

Zen paced around in attempts to calm himself down. He normally had patience to deal but with Sunny now crying in the bathroom he couldn’t keep his composure. “You know what…just take the rest of the night off. Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sleep. As if a night off would help with that.” Although he muttered Zen caught his statement and leaned his arm against the door to prevent him from leaving, “Cannon, are you having trouble with your medications again? You haven’t been sleeping?”

“My personal life is none of your concern!” He got up and tugged at the arm blocking the way but Zen was much stronger and kept his ground. “As your boss and your friend it is my concern, Cannon.”

“Personal matters shouldn’t be discussed on the clock, don’t you think?”

Zen furrowed his brow as his hand dropped to his side, “Then, as strictly your boss it concerns me that you are harassing fellow employees at the workplace. Not only that, but you have been much more irritable than normal to customers. We want to keep them coming back, not scare them away.”

“Fire me if I’m such a big problem.”

“Go home and try to rest. I’ll call you a cab, I won’t let you drive when you are angry and sleep deprived.” Zen opened the door to his office to let Cannon pass. He did, and went straight for his jacket at the bar, “I don’t need a cab, I’ll just walk home.”

Red turned around from the drinks he had been making as he heard the comment, “Walk home? It’s about an hour from here!”

Cannon stopped in his step, twirled around and did a little step dance. He hopped up and clicked his heels together to the right side and opened his eyes wide, “Would yah look at that? My legs aren’t broken! Praise the gods above!” He immediately scowled and went for the door, “I’m not a kid, I can get home.”

“Cannon, please call when you get there.” The worry in Zen’s voice made Cannon snicker, “Worried about me, mom?”

Jingle~!

“Hey Everyone-“

“Fuck off, Duckie.” Cannon pushed past the blonde and slammed the door behind him. Duckie shrugged and walked to sit at the bar top, “What’s with him?”

Red poured a mug of beer and passed it to him, “He’s just being his usual self. Getting angry, making people cry. Hey, boss,” He thumbed back towards the restroom, “Don’t forget that Sunny is still hiding in there.”

Zen perked as he had almost forgotten that piece of information, “Oh yeah! Let me go coax her out. Watch the place for me one more time, Red?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

*******

 “I fucking hate that place!” Cannon kicked at a stray empty can on the sidewalk. His hands were stuffed deep into the pockets of his jacket that was zipped straight up to the throat. His words came out spiteful but he slowed his step as he repeated his words in his head. “No I don’t…” He muttered to himself.

In fact, he had grown to enjoy working there. Despite his normal anxiety of being around large groups of people the familiarity of the bar made it easier for him to socialize. Regardless of how detached he acted everyone still welcomed him with a smile. This was his normalcy. This was his life.

The sleepless nights? They were also his life.

Zen hadn’t been wrong in his assumption that he was once again having issues with getting a good night’s rest and that it was affecting his mood tremendously. How else was he supposed to function when his entire being was screaming for a few more hours of sleep? He knew he was more hostile than normal but how was he going to deal with it?

He also knew another trip to the doctor would come to adjust medications. Hospitals, white doctor coats, waiting rooms. These things put him in a foul mood. Everything had started to pile up in his mind and for some reason he turned his aggression on the new server. “She’s such a try hard, it’s annoying!”

Cannon stopped at the end of the street and looked up into the sky. He loved the scatter of stars; but for once he wanted to feel what it was like to not see the moon for a while - unless it was in his dreams. “I should get home and call those assholes...” His soft sigh was carried through the light breeze of the evening as he made his way back to his apartment.

******

 “Hello boys~” Zen chimed as the twins stepped into the bar the next day. “Cannon, feeling any better?” A shrug came from the brother who then moved along quietly to start the opening duties. Red gave a half-hearted smile, “We talked. He’ll behave tonight.”

The white-haired male bit his lip as he kept his gaze on Cannon but before he could say anything else Sunny came crashing through the door. Even though her clothes were in order her hair was a slight mess and her complexion was lack luster.

“Damn, Sunny, you look like hell. What bus hit you on your way here?” Red chimed up as he began to wrap an apron around his waist.

She laughed a bit nervously as she clutched a notebook at her chest, “I should probably freshen up.” A quick look around the space landed her attention on Cannon to which she proceeded to rush towards him, “Hey! I’m really sorry about last night. I know you’re looking forward to your weekend off and I should have taken things far more seriously than I did.”

“No it’s okay, I-“

“No! Just listen. I took note of every bottle of alcohol we have and looked up the different types of drinks that can be made. I stayed up all night memorizing my notes and I want you to know that you don’t have to worry! I can handle it! I promise!”

“You…stayed up all night doing that?” He immediately began to sweat. Was this guilt that he felt? Had he really made her feel that terrible that she forced that type of stress on herself? “You didn’t have to go and torture yourself.” His head slacked downwards as he continued to sweep as he had been doing when she approached him. “If you can sleep, you should.” His voice was so soft that Sunny strained her neck towards his voice, “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“I said you’re an idiot! But at least you can recognize that you needed to study up a bit! I’m going to clean the pool room!” He stomped off to the back area, leaving the girl more confused than ever, “I didn’t mean to upset him again…”

Red slipped behind her and pat her head, “He’s been having a rough time and has been out of sorts. Just give him some space and he should be back to normal. Not that his normal is in any way nice…” He squinted towards Cannon who had started furiously sweeping the floor, “Do you need to take the night off to sleep, Sunny? I don’t want you passing out on us. Zen may just take the opportunity to give you CPR and get a kiss in.”

“Hey! No I wouldn’t!” Zen poke his head up from below the bar where he had been doing a few counts on the vodka bottles, “I mean, if you were in any danger I would do it but not for that reason!”

Sunny took one last look towards the Cannon in the back before deciding to take Red’s advice now giving her full attention to the two in the vicinity, “I’d rather go without breathing, thanks.”

Red gave a low whistle as he walked back towards the bar top, “She’s got bark, but does she have bite?”

“Why don’t you test my limit and see? I’m running on no sleep and I have a head full of alcohol.”

Zen chuckled slightly as he began wiping down the countertop, “See? I told you she’d be fine here. Now let’s get this place in tip-top shape, I have a good feeling about tonight~”

 A few hours into the night, the normal routine had set in and the staff was back to conversation and serving drinks.

“Cannon, I heard you have the weekend off. How long has it been now?” Sugar was at his usual spot with Clicks settled into the seat next to him. Cannon grabbed their empty glasses and placed them behind the bar, “Six months, or something like that.”

Clicks thanked Red when he refilled his beer and spoke towards the other twin, “My my, that’s a rather long time. Have you planned anything exciting?”

“I bet he has a date!” Duckie chimed in as he moved seats farther down to be nearer to them, “Am I right, Cannon?”

As if he was personally summoned Zen had slid towards their end of the bar, eyes sparkling, “Oh~ A date? Is she pretty? Or…is he pretty? I won’t judge~”

With a deadpan expression, he moved to tend to his tables, “Wouldn’t you all like to know?”

“Yeah.” Everyone responded, their voices a chorus of curiosity.  Cannon’s cheeks blushed furiously, turning towards the group, “Oh yeah?! Well you won’t get an answer from me! It’s my weekend off and I’m going to enjoy it! Without all of you!” Small huffs came from him as he dragged himself towards his tables. “Well then,” Sugar cleared his throat, “I suppose he doesn’t want to talk about his date.”

“It’s not a date!” Cannon yelled from across the way, “I mean, it might be! You don’t know and you won’t know!”

Duckie shrugged his shoulders and finished off his beer, “I don’t get that guy.”

Red laughed a bit and refilled his mug, “I don’t think anyone does.”

********

Saturday rolled around and Eros was as busy as ever, the weekends being the prime time for business. Sunny had been doing fairly well after the issue with Cannon. It turned out the insane study session did her some good after all. “Three beers on tap, A whiskey sour, and an extra dry martini please!”

Zen simply nodded between preparing two other orders. Thankfully he had a solid memory that allowed him to fix multiple things at once. As soon as he was finished he placed the drinks on her tray, shooting her a smile, “You’re keeping up, princess! I’m proud!”

She gave him a smug look as her confidence as a waitress had doubled throughout the night, “I told you, I learn fast. I just needed a push in the right direction. And by the way, perhaps your flirtatious names would be best suited for those scantily clad women down at the end of the bar that have been staring at your ass the entire night?”

He perked immediately and turned around, strutting over towards the giggling group, “Ladies, ladies. Allow me to service you?”

Jingle~!

“Hmph.”

“Cannon! Cannon?”

He walked over to stand at the bar as all the seats were taken, “Can I have a soda?”

“Bro, why are you even here? It’s your weekend off!” Red had served him immediately but stuck around as he was confused to why he was here in the first place.

“It’s her first weekend alone, I decided to stop by and make sure the place wasn’t destroyed.”

Red tilted his head slightly to the side with an even more quizzical look, “You came to work on your day off to make sure this place was in one piece? What happened to your date?”

Cannon choked on his soda a bit at the question, “I never said-“

“Oh no, Cannon! Did you get stood up?” Duckie came up behind him and pat him on the back, “Tough gig, man. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Well, at least you can always rely on us to hang out with!”

He nodded a bit and wiped his mouth with a napkin, “Yeah, something like that. Hey Duckie, go put something good on at the jukebox, will yah?” The blonde smiled and nodded, running off to pick a song.

“You never had a date, did you?” Red leaned in to mutter towards his twin.

“Nope.”

“You came here because you’d rather be with us than alone at the apartment?”

“Yup.”

Red straightened up and smacked the counter top a few times before yelling, “Cheers to Cannon’s first weekend off in six months!”

“Cheers!” The patrons at the bar echoed.

“A round of shots on me! And by me, I mean on the house!”

Everyone cheered once more at the proclamation, but Zen shifted from his place amongst the women to protest, “Wait, what was that?”

“Don’t worry, boss! Just use the money you would have spent paying Cannon! It all works out, yeah?”

“Why you…!” Zen shot towards Red who slipped past him with a serving tray. “I’m going to kill him…wait, Cannon, what are you doing here?”

“Just killing time.”

“If you’re here, you can always clock in and help out.”

He shook his head slowly, “Nah, I’ll just hang out, If that’s okay.”

“Sure thing. Stay as long as you want.’ Zen reached over to ruffle his hair, “Say, the moon is beautiful tonight. I hope you don’t get to see it for too long.”

Cannon clicked his tongue and looked down at his glass, eyes steady on the floating ice cubes, “Yeah, me too.”

let the tags begin! @illneverrecover @zenscrotch @suzunesays