#ask me tomorrow and the rankings will certainly switch up

[twisted-tarot]

My favourite deck I keep in regular use is the Ostara Tarot. I love the art style and the unique perspective it has on the classic tarot themes, and it’s one of the few decks I own made as a collaboration between multiple artists that doesn’t feel jarring or mismatched, artistically. When I’m doing public readings it’s always one of the decks I bring to the table.

My favourite deck in my whole collection is probably the Idiosyncradeck. I don’t use it for public readings or take it out of the house at all any more because it’s out of print now and I wouldn’t be able to replace it if anything happened to it. But I adore the art and working with it feels like sitting down for tea with a beloved and absolutely ruthless old friend.

What's your favorite tarot deck, everyone?

I've collected a few of the "big" ones over the years and never felt quite a connection to any of them as I do the Wildwood Tarot.

Just want to see what your thoughts are and which decks you've found connections with!

[vxmpyree]

hiii!!! Hello!!!! What is your thoughts and headcanons on Rodion?

Ik he is on the same team as Nikto (or used to be, it says on the wiki that nikto is awol so idk :33), so i was wondering if you have ever thought about any of the other Spetznaz members!

sure!! i think i got all of them but if not let me know <3

[ever (foreign flag) - team sleep]

[ rodion ]

he has his heart in the right place, but he's still a little fresh. he rose in the ranks quickly, but he's still a rash 26-year-old. he wants nothing more than to be part of a cause. maybe he has a bit of a savior complex. he likes helping others so that he can be "the good guy." i feel like he'd be a typical sports bro if it he didn't choose the military. lots of gym time, rugby, weightlifting, boxing, you name it. relationship wise? i think he'd want someone good-humored and light-hearted, someone silly ^-^ he's one of those guys who can pick up anybody. he def likes picking you up, like using you for his bicep curls or letting you sit on his back while he does pushups. it's a little ego boost for him. speaking of his ego, it's inflated. his love language is somewhere between words of affirmation (mostly compliments,,) and physical touch. he loves someone who strokes his ego and makes him feel like this good, tough hero.

[ nikto, formerly ]

he likes fucking with people. if he catches kids staring at him, he'll make scary faces. when people ask him about his scars, he'll switch up the story each time. and oh, he loves Halloween. i think he'd dress up as a werewolf or maybe a zombie. he takes fistfuls of candy out of bowls when he's only supposed to take one. he comes back wrong after surviving torture from zakhaev. he's always been an egregious man, but his stares linger in certain places for far too long and he now shares a brain. the man his team once knew is gone, and in his stead is a man set on revenge. he tries to crack jokes, but not a lot of people like them because they're just,, dark and weird. he doesn't mind showing his face, but he keeps it covered like most other operators for the sake of privacy. but when he isn't on the field, he'll show his face freely. let people think what they want. he won't stifle himself for the pleasure of others. dating him is troublesome. sometimes, he'll stand you up on dates or cancel last minute because it's difficult for him to get out of bed or leave his soldier state. and he isn't a good man either-- he's killed the enemy for the thrill or because he can, not for justice. but if he loves you, he'll certainly try to make an effort to impress you. maybe he'll wear something decent.

[ minotaur ]

imagine saving the lives of countless people and "losing" your brother in the process. and that fucks you up, making you leave the military career you've meticulously nurtured for years. this man is a girl dad-- he had four kids while he spent 10 years operating in southeast asia until his brother, who he thought was dead, hunted him down and convinced him to join the allegiance. then, he had to go away for longer than he promised his girls to fight al-qatala. i think he was a present father, and that he just wanted a fresh start after all the shit that went down at kurbanov hospital. he still writes letters to his partner and children back in southeast asia while crouched beneath a tarp, trying to avoid the humidity in verdansk. he's a tough parent-- he and his partner have a good cop-bad cop routine. he's the one telling them to put up their toys and go to bed or they'll have to do more chores tomorrow. but he doesn't let anybody lay a hand on his girls, either. seeing his own brother bleed out made him fiercely protective of the ones he loves. he will not let any of his blood "continue his legacy" for as long as he lives.

[ bale ]

he laid awake late at night often, writing letters to his brother that he would never send. but something in him kept him from sending them, so he stuffed them into the drawer of his nightstand. as the years passed, the thought of contacting him grew harder and harder to consider. but when general barkov let him go, the guilt was a ton heavy and needed to be relieved. this man got shot in the spine and FULLY REHABILITATED in five years. he isn't afraid of anything, but that doesn't mean he goes around making rash decisions like rodion does. he takes rodion under his wing and guides him. he can't end up like him, bleeding out on the floor all because he got too impatient-- he might not get so lucky. i think he really likes hot food and drinks, like an old man. he'll drink black coffee and bitter teas. he likes dark chocolate or an orange as a little treat after meals :] i think he'd be okay with any partner as long as they make good coffee and prefer quiet getaways like he does

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

My friends, I am pleased to announce after thorough review and analysis I have put together a totally unbiased and completely academic ranking of Boyd Holbrook’s characters’ sexual prowesses, ranked from best to worst.

For your viewing pleasure and fandom rage. Behold.

Ty Shaw - Fucking amazing in the sack. He’s enthusiastic. He’s game. Wanna bring in another boy or girl?? Hell yeah, partner, he’s down! This man is the best combination of eager to please and self-confident without being cocky – and he’d absolutely take it in stride if you asked for him to change positions or switch things up. Life is a rodeo and he’s ready to ride! Or be ridden! 10/10

Klaber - As much as it hurts me to say it, he’d be pretty damn good. He’s got that big puppy energy and working dog excitability, and he’d definitely be bringing that into the bedroom. He seems like the sort that would let his partner take the reigns - but he can service top and service dom just as gamely as anything else. And tbh, unlike a bunch of Holbrook characters, he seems too dumb to really be able to get too in his own head about sex. 8/10

Quinn McKenna - He’d be perfectly competent. He knows what he’s doing. He’s down to do it. He’s got stamina and knows how to effectively utilize his strength and his body. He doesn’t seem particularly self-conscious, and he also seems like he’d be pretty tuned-in to his partner’s pleasure. THAT BEING SAID. He would absolutely be distracted. He’d be thinking about that meeting he has tomorrow morning as he fingers you. His endurance would be insane, but he might fall asleep on top of you before he finishes. He might kink shame you. …But he might still do those kinks anyway. This is unfortunately the last Holbrook character that is unequivocally good in bed. 6.5/10

The Corinthian - I am frankly a little amazed that the Corinthian has gotten such a fandom reputation for being a sex god! Look. This boy screams “pillow princess” so goddamn loud. He strikes me as someone that’s not afraid to get what he wants, but also doesn’t give a single shit if that’s also what his partner wants. He is a hedonist, and he is here for *his* pleasure, and unless you’re his master, you’re just the thing giving him that pleasure. That being said, he’s definitely picked up a couple tricks over the years he might bust out if you’re lucky, and watching him enjoy himself would certainly be a show! But good chance he also kills you and eats your eyes after. 5.5/10

Steve Murphy - The one thing I can say about our favorite DEA agent is that he’s *trainable*. Look. This is somebody that will do what he’s told and commit to his tasks with a laser-like intensity. He will work hard! But I doubt he thinks to communicate much about sex on his own, and if his partner doesn’t force the issue, he’s just gonna do the Standard Sexual Routine and assume you probably came sometime during the missionary. 5/10

Donald Pierce - This boy is kinky as all hell, and don’t get me wrong, there are absolutely circumstances where he could probably be a fantastic sexual partner. HOWEVER. He is just oozing insecurity and self-image issues - good luck getting him out of his own head long enough to even coax a full erection out of him. Pierce is constantly fronting and putting on a show - no way he’s gonna stop doing that when the clothes come off. In fact, it might just get worse! All that being said… he probably is pretty good at oral, and your orgasm is more important than his. 4/10

Clement Mansell - Similar to his singing, sex is a skill Clement thinks he’s amazing at, and is not. His arrogance and certainty that his dick will take his partner straight to nirvana only serves to make the mediocre foreplay and jackhammering that much worse. He will sprawl out on the bed afterwards with a self-satisfied smirk and drawl something like, “Told you I was good!” or “Bet you need breather after that, baby.”. He buys Magnum condoms he doesn’t need. The one upside is he’s got that energizer bunny gusto – if you *are* just into vigorous penetration, he’s the guy for you! 3.5/10

Cap Hatfield - Does not have sex. Does not want to have sex. 0/10

I sincerely hope I have done some psychic damage to my followers!! I welcome any additions or dissenting opinions!!

[illogicalpunkwrites]

Diplomacy

Hello! Hope everyone is doing well! This is another McCoy fic and I’ve got one for Scotty in the works. Enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

Pairings: Leonard McCoy x Reader

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: Smut, cursing, jealousy, angst, fluff, the whole works

Words: 4.3k

Tags: @bloodangelballerina​ @theweepingvulcan91​

You groaned as you read the message from Jim, already trying to find a way out of it. 

All commanding officers were to go to a Gala on the metropolitan planet of TIbbea. Meaning, you’d have to dress up and attempt to kiss ass to uphold the reputation of Star Fleet. 

Fantastic.

XXXXXX

You sat next to Leonard as you sipped the brandy he’d pulled out from his cabinet, some oldies playing in the background. You and Leonard had grown close, surprising everyone by becoming good friends despite the rocky beginnings. Bickering had given way to teasing, but that wasn’t to say that the bickering ended. 

“So I take it you’re not looking forward to tomorrow?” He asked and you snorted.

“Absolutely not. They also still haven’t given me a new dress uniform so I’ve got to wear the most uncomfortable thing on the planet. Thankfully, it’s just black but I prefer slacks over that thing any day.”

“Hey, I hate that monkey suit. I think I’d rather wear a dress.” You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder.

“We can always switch.”

“Nah, I don’t think I could pull it off.” He replied and you two simply listened to the music. While ancient country wasn’t your taste, you had made Leonard watch enough of your movies that you owed him some of your time. “At least you can dance, right?”

“Can you?” He made a more or less sign. “I don’t really like to. I’ll stay near the bar and appetizers. Maybe you’ll meet some nice Orion girl to dance with.”

“I’ll just stay at the bar with you, darlin;. Maybe a Ferengi will woo you off your feet.” You snickered into your drink. 

“If they buy me a drink, sure.” There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, but you didn’t notice Leonard’s heart nearly beating out of his chest. You only noticed something was off when he dragged his hand over his face. “You alright?”

“Uh, yeah. I was actually wondering if any of the other officers asked you to be their...accompany them to the gala?”

“No, why?”

“How about you go with me? Seems like we both want the same thing of staying out of the way and drinking them out of the house.” He joked. You hoped he didn’t notice your cheeks heating up as you looked back down into your glass.

“Sounds great, Len.” 

Stars, he loved it when he called you that.

XXXXXX

The hall was ornately decorated with white walls and gold accents, a grand staircase, and breathtaking portraits of previous rulers of the planet. It seemed like it was something out of a fairy tale or a palace from Europe. Star Fleet took you to so many places but you never thought you would be in as nice a place as this. 

You squirmed a little outside of the grand hall, the straps of your heels digging into your ankles, the garter belt that held your phaser chafing against your other thigh. Nyota and Janice had a lot of fun helping you get ready, an unspoken giddiness between the two. When you probed them as to why they were so adamant about getting you ready, they simply smiled and said “no reason”. Luckily for them, Spock had chosen to take Nyota as his date and Hikaru had kindly asked Janice to be his. 

You had to admit they had done a great job but you weren’t surprised. Their makeup and hair were always impeccable.

You didn’t notice Leonard standing behind you and staring at you. He was in awe of how you looked. He always thought you looked beautiful but seeing you in your onyx gown was something else. It hugged you in the right places, showed off your shoulders with the loose sleeves, and the slit up your leg made you look like a goddess. 

Dear God you were going to be the death of him. 

You fixed your hair a little before you felt a tap on your shoulder. You spun to see Leonard in his dress uniform. While you knew he hated the monkey suit, he looked so handsome. His eyes were even brighter than usual and he had run just a little bit more gel through his hair. 

“Hello there.” You greeted. He looked you up and down and you ran your hands over the silky material of the skirt. “Told you it was awful.”

“What’re you talking about? You look...you look gorgeous, darlin’.” Your eyes widened and you knew he saw the blush on your chest and cheeks. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” He offered you his arm and you took it, walking into the grand hall and looking out for your crewmates. You took note of the many different races that were there and the line to great the king and queen. 

“Jim needs a chair like that.” You commented, looking at the throne that was decorated with the overarching symbol of the national Tibbean religion. It was imposing to say the least and you wondered if it would even fit in the transporter room. 

“What? So his ego can get bigger?” You both chuckled and made your way down the stairs and towards the bar. 

“I see we’re sticking to the plan?” You asked.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Old fashioned, right?” You smiled, loving how he remembered your favorite cocktail. 

“Yes please.” He ordered that for you and boulevardier for him. One of the bartenders quickly made them and slid them over to the two of you, the glasses heavy and almost a little gaudy. 

“To drinking them out of the house!” He toasted and you chuckled.

“To drinking them out of their palace.” You corrected. You sipped your cocktail and, though you had many before, it was the best old fashioned you’d ever had. “Damn that’s good. I gotta figure out what bourbon they used.”

“I doubt you’d be able to afford it, darlin’.” 

“Hey, if I take more credits from Scotty in poker I just might.” He scooted closer to you so you were practically resting against him. 

“You gotta teach me your tricks.” “What? And let you take away my credits? I don’t think so.” You responded cheekily. You watched as Jim approached the king and queen, supposedly thanking them for their invite and talking up Star Fleet. 

“It isn’t even a game for you anymore! You win every time.” He complained and you laughed.

“Doctor McCoy, I don’t play games. Poker is just a means to an end to be able to get everyone’s credits.” 

“Never took you for a scrooge. You can tell me something”

“I never realized you were so whiny.” You replied and his jaw dropped in feigned shock. “Oh shut it, you know it’s true. ‘Jim, I’m a doctor not a brick layer. Spock you realize this is impossible. (Y/N) you need to be more careful’. Dammit Jim can’t you-” He elbowed you a little and you laughed, his arm going around your shoulders. 

“You two certainly look like you’re having fun.” Jim said as he approached with the other members of the crew that had beamed down. You both sipped on your drinks as the others talked about how beautiful the planet was. Scotty was impressed with their liquor selection just like you were, Janice couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw the paintings, Nyota was in awe of the poetic music that played, and Hikaru was obsessed with the native plants that nearly glowed with color. 

“Please Spock, dance with me.” Nyota begged, already a little tipsy. She was always a lightweight, ever since meeting her your first day on the Enterprise.

“Of course, ashayam.” He replied and held out his arm for her to take and lead her to the floor. You and Leonard looked at each other, hardly believing the Vulcan could be so smooth. 

“Miss Rand, if I may.” Sulu offered his hand, Janice laughing as she took it. Scotty lead Lieutenant Mira, Jim grabbed Carol, which eaft you and Leonard against the bar still. You were feeling the effects of your second old fashioned and decided “to hell with it”.

“Len, come dance with me.” He sputtered into his drink and quickly wiped his chin. 

“Uh, I thought you didn’t dance.”

“I never said that, I just never answered your question. So will you dance with me?” You replied, placing your glass down and reaching to grab his hands.  “Well...Look darlin’-”

“I’ll dance with you.” A deep voice called. You turned to see a  Daliwakan leaning against the bar near you. “I’m Ivvoid, junior ambassador to the Daliwakans.” 

“It’s very nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself and your rank aboard the Enterprise. 

“Dr. McCoy, CMO of the Enterprise.” He introduced and you didn’t fail to miss how his chest seemed to literally puff up. 

“Come, Commander. Indulge in me a little and dance.” Before you could object, he grabbed your elbow and led you to the floor. His other hand quickly went to your waist as you stepped in time to the music.

“You have to forgive me, I’m not a talented dancer.” You told him sheepishly, keeping in mind you had to keep up a diplomatic presence. You wished Leonard was with you instead. 

“To be honest, neither am I. But who ever heard of an ambassador who couldn’t dance?” You laughed softly at him as he lead the little waltz you were having. You could practically feel Leonard’s eyes on you. “Who is the CMO to you?”

“What?”

“Who is he to you? Just a crewmate?” He replied and you furrowed your brows at him.

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, if I wish to get to know you better I would want to know whether you are spoken for or not.” He replied bluntly. You were a little stunned, something unusual for you. You didn’t realize that was a trait amongst the Daliwakans.

“Well, he is my date for the night.” You explained and you saw the ridges on his forehead raise.

“Just for the night then? You two aren’t together?” 

“Well no, I don’t suppose we are.” You replied honestly.

“Fantastic! You know, back on my planet women-”

XXXXXX

Nyota looked over at Spock’s shoulder to see Leonard still leaning against the bar while you danced with someone else. She knew that there was something going on between the two of you, but you were both too stubborn and blind to do anything. If he wasn’t going to do anything, she would just have to push him.

“Spock, let’s move near Doctor McCoy.”

“Are you planning something?” Nyota smiled up at him and he did as she asked. “Doctor.” 

“Spock, Uhura.” Leonard replied as he sipped on his third drink of the night. He saw how flustered you were getting and couldn’t help the pang of jealousy in his chest. 

“Leonard, why don’t you go over there? She obviously doesn’t want to be there.”

“What’re you talking about? She’s laughing at everything he says and hasn’t stopped dancing with him.” He grumbled. 

“Perhaps she is merely trying to be diplomatic. It’s hard to reject an offer from an ambassador.” Spock replied and Nyota grabbed his hand in a Vulcan kiss, showing that he had done a good job. 

“Nah, she likes him.” She looked over again and saw how stiff you were. Sometimes she really wanted to slap Leonard for not catching on to the obvious things. 

“Really? You think so? Maybe she just needs someone else to go save her, be assertive! Go over there!” Leonard polished off his glass and moved away from the bar.

“Nah, leave her be.” She looked up at Spock and he led her back to the dance floor, hoping to lift her spirits again. Nyota looked across to Janice who sported a disappointed look on her face.  XXXXXX

You looked away from the ambassador to see Leonard going back up the stairs of the grand hall. Your eyes widened and you mouth went slightly agape. You let go of the ambassador’s hand and, against his protests, quickly made your way through the crowd.

“Wait, Commander!”

“I’m sorry, I have to go!” You caught Leonard going around a corner and followed him, wondering where he could possibly be going. He went up another set of stairs and you followed, but he had gone into one of the many rooms before you could see which one. You opened each one, looking around, before you found a study. You saw his back turned towards you as he leaned with his palms against a desk. The window in front of him showing the dark purple sky with triple moons illuminating his figure. 

“Dammit.” He sighed to himself and you quietly closed the door behind you.

“Hey, I thought we were going to drink the entire bar?” You joked but he didn’t laugh. You approached him and rubbed his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” He bit back. You stepped back a little but your hands didn’t leave him. “I’m sorry. Go back downstairs, have fun.”

“I was having fun with you.”

“You were having fun with the ambassador.” He replied and you rolled your eyes.

“He was cocky and dull.”

“You laughed an awful lot.” He scoffed. You pulled away from him and crossed your arms across your chest.

“Doctor McCoy, are you jealous?” You teased, but your teasing nature went away when he didn’t say anything. “Len-”

“Darlin’, I’m fine. I just need a minute.” 

“No you don’t.” He turned to see you. Again, he couldn’t help thinking how beautiful you looked against the purple light. “What’s going on? We were having fun, I asked you to dance with me and you didn’t want to, the ambassador didn’t even really ask just took me over, now you’re upset.”

“I never said I didn’t want to dance with you.” He said. “I just didn’t have the...”

“Balls?” He finally laughed a little at that.

“Yeah. He kinda stepped in before I could finally get some.” You heard the music lightly coming through the door and walked over to him, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist and you locked yours around his neck. 

“There we go. That’s better.” You said. He rested his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. You swayed together to the faint music, breathing in his musky cologne and your warm and spicy perfume. His arms tightened around you so the tips of your noses touched. You opened your eyes to meet his gaze. While he was someone who didn’t particularly like dancing, he didn’t mind it with you. “You don’t have to be jealous, y’know.”

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I don’t want anyone else.” His breath hitched as one of your hands slid down to cup his jaw. 

“Darlin’, don’t play games.”

“You heard me earlier. I don’t play games.” You closed the gap between the two of you and kissed him softly. One of the hands wrapped around your waist went up to the back of your neck to pull you impossibly closer. It didn’t take him long to start kissing you back, taking your bottom lip between his. His lips were a little chapped but damn did he know how to kiss. You felt your entire body melting into him as every nerve ending fired. You had to keep yourself from whining when he pulled away. 

“I’ve been wanting that to happen a long time.”

“Me too.” He leaned down to kiss you again, fiercer this time as he lead you against the desk. His hands went up to cup your jaw as you grabbed at his back, the dress uniform’s scratchy fabric unpleasant against your fingernails. His tongue darted into your mouth and you welcomed him as he teased you. His hands started moving all over you, wanting to feel as much of you as possible. His mouth moved against your jaw, down to you neck and stopped there. Your breathing had picked up as he kissed against the juncture of your neck and collarbone. “Len-” You gasped out when he kissed, sucked the skin into his mouth. You didn’t care about the mark that would be left there as his lips pressed a soft kiss to the red spot he had created. He pulled away to look at you, his lips slightly swollen.

“Darlin’ I need you to tell me to stop if you don’t want this. I’ve wanted this for so long, wanted to kiss you, to taste you, to feel you.” Your breathing picked up even more as you were rendered speechless. “I just need you to tell me to stop and I will.”

“I don’t want you to. Please Len, don’t stop.” you whispered, pulling at the short hair at the back of his head. You leaned forward and pulled the collar of his shirt down and leaned to give him the same mark he had given you. His hand went to your exposed thigh, feeling the garter that held your phaser. “Always have to be prepared.” You joked, breaking some of the tension. He smiled and pulled the phaser to set it on the chair behind the desk. His hand slid up your thigh again and you jumped a little as he finally reached your panties. His fingers creeped in to find that bundle of nerves that was screaming for attention. 

“Shit.” He cursed when he felt how wet you were. He started slowly circling it and your hands went to his biceps, squeezing tightly. His finger moved away from your clit and into your core, quickly joined by a second finger. You were tight around his fingers and you wondered how tight you would feel around his cock. He moved his fingers around a little until he found the spot that made you clench around him and moan into his mouth. 

“Yes!” You sighed, his thumb going to rub your clit has his fingers curled inside of you. You messed with his shirt with shaky hands, trying to open it to feel at least some of his skin. When you succeeded, you ran your hands down his chest to reach for his slacks. You pressed your lips together when you felt the bit of wetness at the bulge. You unzipped his pants and pushed them and his underwear down his hips enough to free his cock that slapped against his belly. You both moaned to each other as you ran the palm of your hand over his tip. You encircled him and started jerking him off slowly. The coil in your belly was growing tighter as he continually tapped against you while rubbing the most sensitive part of you. While you always secretly admired his hands, you had underestimated how good his fingers would be. “Shit wait, I don’t want to come yet.”

“What do you need? Whatever you want.” He replied desperately. 

“I need you inside me now. I can’t wait anymore.” He cured under his breath and you bunched up your skirt so it wouldn’t get ruined. He pulled his fingers and you swore you could’ve come just from watching him smear your wetness over his cock. He wrapped one of his arms back around your waist with the other holding it, your arms going to grip at his shoulders. His cock caught at your entrance and he grasped the base of himself before slowly starting to push in. Both of your mouths dropped open as he sank into you with small rolls of his hips. 

“Fuck you feel too damn good.” You mewled as his accent came out even more. He finally bottomed out inside of you and he felt your grip tighten on his shoulders. “You alright?”

“Perfect, you feel perfect.” You two stayed like that for a moment or two, basking in each other before your hips started to roll as best as they could against him. One of his hands left you to grip the edge of the desk as he pulled out to the tip to push back into you roughly. You could tell he wouldn’t be able to hold back as much as he wanted to as your body bounced against him and the desk creaked underneath you and the fact that you knew the grip he had on your hip would leave bruises. You hooked one of your legs higher around his waist and he gasped out when he sunk even deeper into you. The angle allowed for him to hit the spot that he had found earlier and if it wasn’t for him you would’ve collapsed against the desk. You muffled your cries against his shoulder, still cognisant that you were at a gala. 

“Shit, darlin’ I’m not gonna last much longer.” You shook your head against him.

“Me neither.”

“Rub your clit, c’mon.” He groaned into your ear and one of you shaky hands reached down to sloppily circle your clit. He cursed and bit his lip when he felt you clench around him tighter. “C’mon honey, come for me.” Your legs started shaking around him and you felt that coil turning even tighter. “Please come for me.” He whined and you felt that resolve snap inside of you, tingling through every part of your body as your back bowed to press your breasts against him. He kissed you to swallow your cries as your body convulsed. He was soon grunting and groaning loader before you felt hotness cover your walls and his thrusts becoming shorter and deeper. His knuckles were blanched as they went to move your hair out of your face, feeling the imprints the lines of the desk made on his fingers and his breath puffing out against you. Your hands went to feel his pecs, to feel his heart beating wildly. 

“See? Told ya you didn’t need to be jealous.” You panted and he chuckled against you, the sound reverberating through you. He leaned down to give you a sweet kiss against your forehead and nuzzled against you. 

“We should probably get cleaned up.” He pulled up your panties and you stood up from the desk, squirming when you felt come slide out of you. “Maybe that’ll keep you from dancing with someone else.” You rolled your eyes lovingly and grabbed your phaser to put it back in your garter. You helped him look presentable again and kissed his cheek before going to the door. He grabbed your hand and pulled your back to his chest. “This wasn’t the way I thought that this would happen, but I’m glad it did.”

“How did you want it to happen?” He looked down at you and rubbed his thumb over the mark he had made on your shoulder. 

“I would’ve taken you out first once I’d finally gotten the courage to ask you out. Maybe I’d take you to a nice restaurant on a planet like this to get some real food, not replicated. I might take you to a place where you could see the stars because you love ‘em so damn much even though you’re constantly surrounded by them. I was actually trying to track down an old movie you loved so that we could watch it together. I was thinking I would make my move then.” You smiled up at him and played with the medals on his shirt.

“Those things can still happen, y’know. We can still do all of that.” You said. “I would really like to.”

“Me too.” He gave you another kiss before you both left the room, hoping you didn’t leave behind too big of a mess. 

XXXXXX

“Janice, I thought it would happen too.” Nyota consoled the yeoman as they wondered where the two of you had went. They had assumed you had both beamed back to the ship after realizing the other was busy either dancing or wallowing. 

“But it was perfect! It was just like those sappy vids! Pretty dresses, dancing, two people who won’t admit they’re in love! I just want them to be happy.” “Plus it doesn’t help that we have a bet going.” Hikaru interjected. “If they didn’t get together tonight then she owes me fifty credits.” Nyota shook her head incredulously. 

“You two are-” She stopped when she saw the two of you walk back down the stairs together again. “Oh stars-”

“Yes!” Janice celebrated. “Pay up, Hikaru!”

“Wait, that’s not proof of anything!” He whined. 

“Think again, hickey at three o’clock.” Hikaru leaned against the table near him and groaned. 

“What’s going on?” You asked and they didn’t miss how Leonard had his arm around your waist. 

“Oh nothing, we’re just about to toast.” They grabbed some bubbly by a waiter walking by. “To new beginnings and old bets!” Your brows furrowed but you drank from the flute anyway. 

You’d figure out what they meant later. For now, you relished being with your doctor and friends. 

“C’mon, I owe you a dance.” He said in your ear, leading you away from your friends. Unlike before, you assumed a more formal position with your hand in his, the other on his shoulder, and his other on your hip. 

“Glad to see you finally made it out!” Jim chuffed. “Must’ve had enough bourbon.” 

“Yeah, that’s it.” Leonard replied and you chuckled. Leonard’s eyes suddenly narrowed over your shoulder before you heard a familiar voice.

“Commander, glad to see you made it back! May I steal you for a moment?” The ambassador asked and you sighed. 

“No, you may not.”

“But-”

“She said no. Go chase an asteroid.” Leonard replied and you were surprised at the way he talked. 

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse us.” You replied and pushed Leonard away from the ambassador before a diplomatic incident occurred. “Y’know, we’re trying to suck up here.”

“Never was one for kissing ass.” He mused.

“Ah, always with that southern charm.”

“It got you, darlin’.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Play date with the Lans and Nies! Except it's Nie Mingjue training with little Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen painting with Nie Huaisang! Baby brothers getting crushes!!!! Adorable all around!!!!!

Lan Xichen had been told several times not to expect that things would be the same as they’d been the last time he’d visited Qinghe and the Unclean Realm.

It was unusual that he’d visited before at all, in fact; usually, the heirs to the Great Sects were raised very firmly in their own traditions before allowed to venture out to meet any others – often only in their teenage years, when they were wise enough to learn from others without losing the core of their ancestor’s teaching. But his uncle had been friends with old sect leader Nie, personal friends in addition to being allies, and so he’d had the chance to visit once before, a few years back.

He’d enjoyed that visit. 

He’d been very young, younger than Lan Wangji was now – sometimes he felt he was still younger than Lan Wangji, who was not quite nine years old but very solemn about it – but Nie Mingjue was very nice to him, showing him around and playing games with him very earnestly as if he hadn’t had any friends at all.

It didn’t feel at all like the older boy had been humoring him. They’d even gotten in trouble with their parents together, having tried to switch their baby brothers around so that old Nie would stop complaining about his child’s low vitality and Lan Xichen’s Uncle could have some peace and quiet from Lan Wangji’s very effective lungs at last.

Things would be different now, of course.

Lan Xichen was nearly thirteen years old, on the verge of adulthood (in the technical sense, anyway), but Nie Mingjue…

Nie Mingjue was already Sect Leader.

(It puzzled Lan Xichen a little, how someone he remembered as being only a few years older than him could have so quickly shot into the ranks of real adulthood – were there really six years between them? It didn’t seem possible, but then again, he had spent his childhood visit looking up at Nie Mingjue from a great distance...)

It was Nie Mingjue, not old Nie, who greeted them at the door, and who sat with Uncle in the study to drink tea and talk politics. And when he was done with that, he had to go and deal with sect business, first a table full of papers that Lan Xichen would never be allowed to look at and then a hall full of people asking questions and after that he had to lead saber training for the Nie sect disciples.

It wasn’t until right before bedtime in Gusu that Lan Xichen was able to find time to talk to his friend.

“You look tired,” he said, and Nie Mingjue smiled a little, nodding in agreement. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Nie Mingjue rubbed his eyes. “Can you spend some time with Huaisang tomorrow? I haven’t had as much time for him as I’d like, these past few days, and he’s only just barely started being able to handle being away from me for a few hours without going into a panic.”

“Certainly,” Lan Xichen said, and a beautiful idea appeared in his brain. “And I’ll send Wangji to you, of course.”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him.

“We did always say they’d make a good trade,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled when Nie Mingjue laughed.

-

The next morning, Lan Xichen told Lan Wangji that his duty for the day was to go and help Sect Leader Nie with whatever he needed, which Lan Wangji accepted with a deep, solemn nod that suggested he was preparing to go to war.

“It won’t be that bad,” Lan Xichen coaxed. “It’s only Mingjue-xiong. Don’t you remember when he came to visit Gusu a few years back? You sparred with him a few times, and later –”

Lan Wangji’s ears abruptly turned bright red and he shook his head furiously to forestall any further commentary. Lan Xichen pressed his lips together to keep from laughing; Lan Wangji had had the most adorable crush on Nie Mingjue in those days.

“You know,” Lan Xichen said innocently, “given that it’s morning, I think you’ll probably find Mingjue-xiong at the training grounds…”

Lan Wangji was gone faster than the wind.

Still chuckling, Lan Xichen went to go find his own charge. Nie Huaisang had been sick with allergies during part of their visit to Gusu, staying inside so he wouldn’t make them worse, so Lan Xichen hadn’t had much of an impression of him – he remembered a little dumpling, a round face with a vivacious smile and an awful lot of giggling, a sunny contrast to Lan Wangji’s natural seriousness.

The shy, skinny child that flinched away from him and hid his face away behind a fan wasn’t anything like the child he’d remembered.

Nie Mingjue had said something about Nie Huaisang having developed a tendency to have brief attacks of heightened panic, Lan Xichen remembered, which were worsened if he couldn’t lay eyes on his elder brother for any extended period of time. He must be afraid of losing his brother the way he’d lost his father, which Lan Xichen could understand – the painful memory of being told his mother wasn’t there anymore still stung bitterly anytime he let himself think too much about it, and it’d been years, not months.

(Nie Mingjue’s visit had been the only thing that had managed to lift Lan Wangji’s gloom after the death of their mother, and Lan Xichen would be forever indebted to him for that. Even if he’d never tell him the exact reason – Lan Wangji would immediately expire out of sheer embarrassment if he ever did.)

“I’m going to be spending time with you today,” Lan Xichen announced, and Nie Huaisang looked more resigned than anything else, turning his head gloomily to look at where his saber was sitting in its proper place. “How do you feel about painting?”

Nie Huaisang paused and very slowly turned his head back to look at Lan Xichen suspiciously. “…real painting?”

“With ink and colors and everything,” Lan Xichen promised. He knew that Qinghe Nie tended to believe that physical exercise was a good antidote to grief, but he’d personally found that art worked better for him as an escape – maybe the same would be true for Nie Huaisang. “We can go paint some landscapes. Or maybe we can see if we can find any birds?”

There were a lot of birds in Qinghe, and all different types, too. It was as if every time Lan Xichen turned his head, there was a new explosion of feathers in some new configuration.

“I like birds,” Nie Huaisang murmured, his voice very soft.

“We’ll keep an eye out for any we see, then,” Lan Xichen said enthusiastically. “If we can catch one, I’ll convinced your brother to let you keep it.”

Nie Huaisang’s face brightened, and Lan Xichen was sure it wouldn’t be hard to convince Nie Mingjue to let his brother keep a few animals, not if he could see that smile. “Really? I can keep one at home?”

“Really.”

“It’s safe now?” Nie Huaisang asked, hopping off the bed to go put his hand in Lan Xichen’s.

Lan Xichen thought that was an odd question, but nodded again. “We’ll buy a nice bronze cage in the market,” he said, thinking that Nie Huaisang might be worried about cats or something – another notable feature of Qinghe. Stray cats everywhere. “That’ll keep it safe.”

“Steel is better,” Nie Huaisang said as Lan Xichen led him out. “Bronze will bend if a fist hits it hard enough; it won’t protect whatever’s inside.”

“Steel it is, then,” Lan Xichen said. He’d only thought that bronze would match the décor of Nie Huaisang’s bedroom; steel would clash and ruin the feng shui. “Maybe plated in bronze?”

“That works!”

-

“I’m a Sect Leader now,” Nie Mingjue told Lan Wangji, who was standing at attention better than some of the adult Nie sect disciples. “What I need right now are good lieutenants. Are you capable?”

Lan Wangji nodded firmly.

“It won’t be that interesting,” Nie Mingjue warned him. “If you think you’ll get bored and want to wander off –”

“I won’t,” Lan Wangji said, and there was a note of determination and pride in his voice that made Nie Mingjue want to pick him up with one arm and give him a hug the way he’d done in the past.

He didn’t, of course. For one thing, it’d be beneath his dignity as a Sect Leader to so causally embrace a child from another sect – or anyone, for that matter; for another, Lan Wangji had always had a great deal of pride for a child, and Nie Mingjue had long ago figured out that the best way to deal with pride was to offer respect where it was due.

“Very well then,” Nie Mingjue said. “I will count on you.”

Lan Wangji lifted his head and clenched his fists, his eyes shining, and his expression only became more and more happy (in that barely-noticeable way he had) when he realized Nie Mingjue was giving him tasks that actually needed doing, rather than merely filling the time to entertain him.

Nie Mingjue wouldn’t have done the latter regardless – he’d always disdained the idea of condescending to a child like that – but as a matter of fact he did need the help: someone to write things down as he made decisions, to survey things and report back to him what he saw, to arrange that he would have fresh ink before he noticed he was out, to put signatures on things that needed to be signed once Nie Mingjue had approved the idea, to inconspicuously serve tea during important political discussions while keeping enough of an ear out to be able to remind Nie Mingjue of everything that had been discussed later…

His advisers were right; he really did need a deputy. Possibly several of them, if he couldn’t find one competent enough to serve alone.

“Wangji,” he said towards the end of the day, and Lan Wangji looked up at him from where he was faithfully copying out one of the letters that needed to go out before the end of the day. He was barely tall enough to sit properly at the table, but his calligraphy was perfect. “You helped me a great deal today. Well done.”

Lan Wangji nodded and looked back down to finish off the letter, only the redness of his ears revealing his embarrassment.

They went down to the entrance to meet Lan Xichen and Nie Huaisang, who were returning from their outing for the day – Nie Huaisang was clutching a giant bird cage covered in a cloth, with a smile that almost looked like the one from last year, from before, and Lan Xichen had paint splattered on his face and white clothing.

“Do I want to know?” he asked Lan Xichen dryly as he gestured for the two children to greet each other, but Lan Xichen only laughed.

“I promised him he could keep whatever we found,” he said with a smile. “Also, Huaisang has some paintings he wants to show you. If you like them, you might consider hanging one up in your office.”

He will hang them all up no matter how ugly they are, Nie Mingjue decides immediately. He doesn’t say that out loud, merely nods and says, “We’ll see, then.”

“How was Wangji?” Lan Xichen asked. “He didn’t bother you, did he?”

“Don’t be absurd, Wangji’s a good boy,” Nie Mingjue said. “And an excellent deputy. If he wasn’t your brother, I’d try to steal him away from you.”

“He might like that,” Lan Xichen said, looking at Lan Wangji fondly. “Maybe when he’s a little older, I can send him here for a season, to improve his cultivation –”

Lan Wangji didn’t do anything as crass as nod furiously, but his expression showed distinct signs of interest; he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to Nie Huaisang, who was rambling into his ear.

“And perhaps I’ll send Huaisang to the Cloud Recesses for your uncle’s teaching,” Nie Mingjue replied, mildly hopeful – it was out of the question right now, with Nie Huaisang only sleeping through the night half the days in the week and never when he was on his own, but it would be nice, in the future. He thought that his younger brother would enjoy the serenity of Gusu.

“– and then we caught a bird, look!” Nie Huaisang concluded, pulling the cover off the birdcage.

Nie Mingjue glanced over, then did a double-take and stared.

“Xichen,” he said, with admirable restraint. “Did you actually promise that my brother would be allowed to keep a vicious flesh-eating hawk?”

“There’s no way a hawk is that small,” Lan Xichen said. After a second of observing Nie Mingjue’s face, he added, a little weakly, “…right?”

[minmotl]

Ch. 69: Sui Zhou Touches Tang Fan’s Lips As They Sleep On The Same Bed

Context: Continues from Chapter 68. Tang Fan, Sui Zhou and the other men are headed back to the Imperial City and Tang Fan knows that his punishment for letting Yin Yuan Hua get killed will be severe. Sui Zhou tries to help him but is helpless to do so, and Tang Fan plans for him instead, touching and warming the man’s heart.

*Note: Liang Wen Hua is Yin Yuan Hua’s direct supervisor and the both of them have been trying to sabotage Tang Fan for the longest time. 

Introduction Post | Masterpost

—

Highlights under the cut

Tang Fan smiles slightly, and then finds a chair next to the bed to sit down on. The red swelling on his face has already faded, so this action naturally looks elegant.

“What do you think will happen?” he asks in return, wanting to hear his good friend’s thoughts.

Sui Zhou is highly skilled in martial arts and has a firm, strong body, so even after sustaining severe injuries, now that he has laid down for so many days he is more or less recovered. Now, as he sits leaning against the side of the wall and chats with his good friend, this is instead another type of rest.

Listening to Tang Fan’s words, he then says sombrely, “A lot of people already think that you are in the Zhang Ying’s camp, but from what I can see, Wan An has been wanting to switch him out and so he definitely won’t sit in the ministerial position for long. Once he leaves, you’ll have to face Liang Wen Hua on your own, but in today’s court there are a few different parties that are competing fiercely with each other. Although Liang Wen Hua and the Chief Minister Wan An are close, but Liu Xu and Liu Ji do not look upon Wan An favourably, you still have a chance.”

The bunch of them have stayed in Gong County for a month, and at this point, Sui Zhou still does not know that Zhang Ying has been assigned to Nanjing, and also has no idea how accurate his premonition is.

“So what you mean is, I should depend on Liu Xu or Liu Ji?” Tang Fan asks.

Sui Zhou nods, “In the internal courts, today’s leading three elders, aside from Wan An, are Liu Xu and Liu Ji, these two men. Liu Xu is righteous and blunt, while Liu Ji is used to patronising others, and they are certainly no easy people to get along with. However, Liu Xu is the Emperor’s teacher and even he has to address the man as Dong Liu-xiansheng. The respect he has for the man is apparent. As for Liu Xu himself, he can appreciate capable young officials, so if you can gain his protection, you will not need to be afraid of Liang Wen Hua.”

And within the internal courts, although Liu Xu tends to be arrogant, compared to others, his personality can be considered one of the better ones. Moreover, he often advises the Emperor to work hard and serve his people. The only thing is, Liu Xu has a bad temper and likes to lecture others. If he sees someone he does not like, no matter if that person has done something good or bad, he will still lecture them from a higher moral ground. This has garnered the resentment of others, and so his relationship with others in court is not good. He tends to spread rumours to the disadvantage of others, which is why he, Wan An and Liu Ji are discussed together in the same sitting.

***

Tang Fan only laughs bitterly at his words, “This is a good solution, but on me, this doesn’t really work.”

Sui Zhou frowns, “Why?”

“My teacher and Liu Xu hold old grudges against each other, detesting one another. They cannot resist but want to triumph over the other. With Liu Xu’s character, do you think it’s possible for him to protect his enemy’s student?”

“There is deep enmity between them?” Sui Zhou asks.

Tang Fan, “Not quite to that extent, but you are also well aware that the both of them have bad tempers and believe in that they know best. You know this, it is easy to determine who the winner is in a physical fight, but between scholars, it is challenging to see who wins. I am not certain how their conflict came to be, but in any case, I once saw my teacher throw water from a cup at Liu Xu with my own eyes, and he said that Liu Xu is just as this water, that he is dirty and hard to deal with.”

Sui Zhou, “…”

Well, since they have already come to blows, it is probably impossible for them to become friends in this lifetime. And Tang Fan, as Qiu Jun’s student, if he approached the man, judging by Liu Xu’s personality, it is not difficult to imagine how Tang Fan will be humiliated as a result.

This method indeed will not work. When he thinks about this, Sui Zhou too is a little helpless.

He is the zhenfushi in charge of the Northern Administrative Court, and although the official hat he wears on the top of his head is Rank Five qianhu only, the rank he has when compared to civil officials of the same rank is very different. Not only do Rank Five civil officials need to give way to him, even the seasoned elders in the internal court will have to stop and exchange greetings with him when they see Sui-zhenfushi.

Moreover, he is also related to Empress Dowager Zhou, while the Emperor trusts him immensely. For him to keep progressing upwards is not a difficult thing.

And yet, for Sui-zhenfushi who holds so much power, he is unable to do anything for his good friend’s career problems. On the surface, it seems that this is due to the entirely differently systems that govern the promotions for Embroidered Uniform Guards and civil officials.

However, Sui Zhou believes that this is the result of him not being powerful and strong enough. If he had the power and authority that someone like Grand Tutor Sun Ji Zong has now, even if Liang Wen Hua wanted to sabotage Tang Fan, he would have to reconsider and they would not be stuck in this situation where they can only react to changes.

Tang Fan sees his frustration and instead comforts him, “You do not need to be like this. I know you are doing this for my own good but whether or not I continue to be an official, this is not under yours or my control. I have already done my best at the things I need to do and have no regrets. You don’t have to worry about things that will happen in the future.  We should live in the present, and there will always be things to worry about tomorrow!”

Sui Zhou hears this and does not know if he should be reassured by how open-minded Tang Fan is, or worried that he is so nonchalant.

Then again, if Tang Fan was the the type of official that went after status and power, focusing only on promotions, then the both of them would unlikely have any common interests or views, or become good friends.

It is commonly said that there is a everything happens for a reason, and if you lose something you will also gain something. Although it is impossible for everything to go smoothly, but they headed into Marquis Gong’s tomb, meet bloodthirsty, merciless and ferocious tomb-guarding beasts and originally thinking that they would have to die down there, and they ended up returning safely. This is already a fortunate thing; hey really should not ask for too much.

In any case, he has plenty of savings and when it comes to that, Sui Zhou can definitely afford to take care of him. All he has to do is think of ways to make Tang Fan stay.

Sui Zhou does not realise that unconsciously, he has already been influenced by Tang Fan’s casual, broad-minded attitude. The way he used to regard life in a strict and narrow manner is also slowly changing.

If it was before, he might have gotten angry at Tang Fan’s lack of ambition and competitive drive, and the way he does not seem to want to work with anyone else, but right now, he instead understands Tang Fan and acknowledges his friend’s perspective towards life.

This is because Sui Zhou knows that it is not that Tang Fan does not want to progress upwards, that he doesn’t work hard. It is that he has already done his best within the limitations of his capabilities, and he does not want to force things. He prefers to let things come as they will - he works with the determination of wanting to work towards maintaining peace in this world, but as a person, he is happy being himself and will deal with things when they happen.

To be able to be friends with him is the other person’s fortune.

“You’re right,” Sui Zhou’s mouth curves upwards, and his heart eases.

He does not know when it started; when he looks at this person and thinks about him, his eyes lose the cold and hard edge usually present when he looks at others, and what’s left behind is a light layer of happiness.

***

“Guang Chuan, after we head back, you better make a trip to Yuan-zhenfushi’s. He has been with the Embroidered Uniform Guards for so many years and though he does not think much of power and status, he is definitely not someone who will let others step on him. Since he let you command the whole of the Northern Administrative Court, this means that he obviously is impressed with your abilities and is intent on making you his successor. If you can obtain his complete approval and you absorb all of Yuan Bin’s power and connections, then even if Wan Tong returns, he will not be able to touch you easily. At that point you would control the Northern Administrative Court firmly, and naturally will not be afraid of Wan Tong.”

“And,” Tang Fan sits on the bed and bends at the waist to remove his shoes and socks, then hugs the covers and lies on the bed as he plans for Sui Zhou, “You are Empress Dowager Zhou’s grandnephew and the trust that the Emperor has for you is not lesser than the trust he has for Wan Tong. After you return, you must remember two things and you will be able to stand firmly before the Emperor. No matter how Wan Tong tries to sabotage you, he will not be able to do anything to you.”

Sui Zhou raises an eyebrow, “I’m all ears.”

“Firstly, no matter what the Emperor wants to do, you must not oppose him. If he asks for your opinion, you must not respond. Whatever he says, you do, unless it clashes with your principles. Secondly, after Wan Tong drags Yuan Bin down, you must ask for leniency for Yuan Bin. If the Emperor asks you for a reason, you should say that you are willing to serve him as Yuan Wen served the previous Emperor. Not only will the Emperor not blame you if you say this, but he will also pardon Yuan Bin, and be closer to you as well.”

The Cheng Hua Emperor has plenty of bad habits but at the same time, he is also rather soft-hearted and nostalgic. However, he is also an Emperor and emperors do not prefer their subjects to oppose them day in and out. With this type of personality, the Emperor is indeed a very contradictory person.

Although Tang Fan has only seen the Emperor in person a few times, from the descriptions of people who often interact with him such as Sui Zhou and Wang Zhi, it is not difficult to deduce the Emperor’s character.

What he has just said to Sui Zhou can be regarded as him guessing at the Emperor’s thoughts and this is taboo. If it wasn’t someone like Sui Zhou who he is this close to, Tang Fan will definitely not say any of this.

Sui Zhou naturally understands and his heart warms as he enjoys this treatment.

“I understand, thank you.”

“Between you and I, is there any need for thanks?” Tang Fan smiles.

At night, Tang Fan sleeps rather restfully and these problems have obviously not affected his mood.

Sui Zhou, however, is unable to sleep.

Tang Fan took the initiative and asked to sleep on the inside so that he would not accidentally press on Sui Zhou’s injuries if he tosses and turns. He is lying on his side and his back is almost pressed entirely against the wall. Sui Zhou feels uncomfortable on his behalf just looking at him, but Tang Fan is still able to descend into his dreams.

Sui Zhou’s gaze is sombre and he looks quietly at Tang Fan for a long while, then reaches out to touch that handsome face.

His fingers land on the other’s lips, but he only lightly caresses for a moment. The touch is not made out of lust or want, only respect and sincerity.

Before he met Tang Fan, Sui Zhou was actually incredibly lonely inside.

The Sui family members are not able to understand why Sui Zhou entered the Embroidered Uniform Guards, and in their eyes, Sui Zhou should have emulated his older brother, working hard at the imperial examinations, helping the family to forge a path of honour which will allow them to get rid of the reputation that says they relied on their external relatives for status. Although the authority the Embroidered Uniform Guards wield is great, they have a terrible reputation as well. If he had received an empty title, that’s one thing, but being called a dog to the imperial court, what is this?

However, Sui Zhou does not need anyone to understand him. He is like a single, long wolf, moving forward on a path he has set his heart on.

And then he met Tang Fan.

A person who genuinely wants to help him to plan and strategise for the future.

To be able to attain such a soulmate, what more can he ask for?

He can only reciprocate with everything he has.

The bright moonlight peeps in through the window and lands on Tang Fan’s face. This illuminates his beauty and makes him look like an immortal, unlike a common man.

Suddenly, Deity Tang moves his lips, as if saying something.

Sui Zhou’s curiosity is piqued and he moves closer, but he ends up hearing Tang Fan mumble, “Crab roe… tofu soup…”

Sui Zhou, “…”

Tang-daren’s imposing and noble image has been shattered.

===

Notes:

*今朝有酒今朝醉，明日愁来明日愁 - An idiom that literally translates to ‘I will get drink on alcohol today, and worry about tomorrow when tomorrows comes.” Means to live in the present and worry about things when they happen rather than in advance.

[seijorhi]

The Greater Good

A/N Hey y’all! So I finally decided to take the plunge and actually start writing my own yandere bnha fics after spending months thirst reading what others have written. I wanna give a quick shoutout to @yandere-love-love-love who kind of inspired my obsession love for Hawks with their amazing writing, and subsequently, this fic!

Anyway, I hope you guys like it, there’s plenty more content coming soon! 💖

TW Non-con, drugging, slight NSFW

You remembered the first time you laid eyes on Keigo. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but really it was only a few months. Sure, you’d known about him for a long time. He was Hawks, the number 2 Pro-hero, you honestly didn’t think there’d be a single person in Japan who didn’t know who he was. His face was plastered across billboards and TV screens, his merch being repped right across the city. Everyone knew Hawks, but Keigo himself? Not so much.

Still, you’d been thrilled that day that your phone rang offering you the job at Hawks’ hero agency. It was only a secretary position, the pay was just barely above minimum wage, but you’d been so happy, of course you’d accepted! You were never meant to be a hero, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t still help - by working for Hawks, even as a glorified receptionist, you were doing good things.

At least, that’s what he told you on that first day. You’d been a blushing, stammering mess as he walked you through the office, one hand resting gently on your shoulder and an easy going smile gracing his face. It was his agency, and technically he was going to be your boss, but you couldn’t hold back your surprise when he was the one greeting you on your first day. 

Hawks was handsome and charming. You hadn’t been a fangirl of his, but it was hard to ignore the fluttering in your stomach as he walked you through your duties, every so often throwing in a wink or a joke just to see you blush.

“Do you know why I chose you, Y/N?”

Wide eyed you’d shaken your head. Truthfully, you hadn’t actually realised that he’d been the one to make the decision to hire you - he certainly hadn’t been at any of the interviews. 

Hawks grinned, meeting your gaze as he leaned in close. “You didn’t apply for this job because you wanted to work for me, I don’t even think you care that I’m the number 2 pro-hero.” You’d hastily opened your mouth to correct him, but he’d just brushed it off with a soft laugh, “It’s fine, sweetheart, don’t sweat it. You don’t care about the rankings or the heroes, you just wanna make a difference, right?” He didn’t need you to confirm it, your naïve idealism all too apparent. “That’s why I hired you.”

Foolishly, you’d taken his words to heart. 

Working with Hawks was… unexpected. For one, you hadn’t thought you’d be working quite so closely with him, but Keigo was a busy man and he was insistent. Short of his nightly patrols and the occasional villain attack, you were by his side in case he ever needed anything. 

And for the most part, you liked your new job. Keigo kept you busy, but he was a fairly laid back boss, and he did care for his employees in an odd sort of way. On the nights he made you stay back at work with him, he always had food brought in and usually some wine as well. “It’s only fair,” he told you that first night as he uncorked the bottle, pouring you a glass despite your polite refusal. “I know working nights wasn’t part of your contract.” 

There was a lot of work you did that wasn’t part of your contract - the late hours and early mornings, the coffee runs, prepping him for all of his media appearances, attending the benefits and charity events he went to, and on one odd occasion brushing his wings out after a particularly brutal fight… you could still remember the way he’d shivered under your hesitant touch and the soft, contented chirp he let slip as your fingers ran across his feathers. 

And it wasn’t like you particularly enjoyed doing it, but it was hard to say no, especially when Hawks stared at you with those imploring, puppy dog eyes every time he asked.

There was no such thing as a perfect job, and even with the extra work it was still a thousand times better than ringing up groceries. By helping Hawks, you were helping others, right? Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t look after you in return. The first pay rise came three weeks after you started - your eyes had widened as you saw the figure that had been deposited in your account, but when you’d shyly gone to Keigo about it, he’d just laughed. “You’re doing good work, sweetheart,” he said, squeezing your shoulder with that golden smile of his. “Only fair you get rewarded for it, hm?”

Sweetheart. Honey. He liked to call you pet names, he liked to flirt too. But it was all harmless, that was just how Keigo was, and while you’d never admit it out loud, there was a part of you that liked his flirting. He made you feel… seen. It was a nice little ego boost, if nothing else. You let a lot of things like that slide, telling yourself that it was all in your head, that Hawks was a hero and you were, well, you were a secretary with a fairly useless Quirk. What good was levitating if it was limited to a few inches off the ground?

Looking back, there were so many red flags and you ignored every single one - the innocent touches; a clap on your shoulder, a hand resting on your lower back as he guided you across the office to show you something, an accidental brush against your chest as he scooted past you. You didn’t notice the lingering stares while you worked, or the lazy smirk he wore whenever you bent down in front of him to pick something up. You didn’t even think twice the day that Hawks suggested you moved your desk out of your office and into his. “There’s plenty of space in here, besides, I like having you close,” he’d said with a wink.

Maybe if his agency had been bigger, if there’d been more people, more women around you might have noticed that the way he treated you wasn’t normal. 

But you were naïve, and maybe Hawks liked you that way.

You should really have known that something wasn’t right the first time you turned him down when he asked you to stay back. By that stage, him asking was more a formality than anything else. Hawks liked to tease you about your lack of a social life but really he was the one who kept stealing all your free time.

“Dinner tonight?” he asked, barely lifting his eyes from his phone. 

Your gut clenched uncomfortably. Truthfully, you’d been hoping he wouldn’t ask today. You’d even worked through your lunch break to try and get as much done as you could so you’d be able to leave on time. Sure, the new stats had just come in after lunch, but Hawks hated going through those things, he usually just left you to it. It wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait until the morning.

“Um, I’m sorry, Hawks-”

“Keigo, sweetheart,” he corrected, slowly putting down his phone as he met your gaze.

You blushed, quickly dropping your eyes to your desk as your fingers twisted in your lap. “Keigo. I-I can’t stay back tonight, I’ve got plans.”

He quirked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

He didn’t sound mad, more curious than anything. You swallowed, licking your lips before you continued. “A date, actually.” 

Something shifted in his eyes, flickering past too quickly for you to put a name to it, but either way it made your heart skip a beat, an unfamiliar sense of unease settling into your stomach. “A date?” he repeated quietly.

“I can come in early tomorrow and stay back if you want, or… ” you trailed off, more to fill in the awkward silence than anything else.

And just like a switch flipped, the Hawks you knew returned. He broke out into a laugh, stretching out in his seat. “It’s fine, honey. Go, enjoy your date. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, right?”

You nodded quickly, even returning the smile with a hesitant one of your own.

The next day you’d arrived half an hour before you were supposed to start, but Hawks hadn’t breezed through the doors until well after nine, looking a little more tired and ruffled than usual. You’d been worried that after the awkwardness the night before that things would be tense, to say the least. But outside of asking whether you’d had a good time on your date (chuckling when you flushed pink and stammered out a yes), Hawks seemed content to let it go. “Just be careful, yeah? I don’t want you getting yourself hurt.”

You promised him you would, and things returned to normal. 

At least, that’s what you thought. You didn’t notice the way that Hawks’ golden eyes followed you as you walked from room to room, you didn’t question it when he handed you a new cell phone to replace the one that mysteriously broke one day. “Consider it a gift,” he’d told you.

And you didn’t question it when almost a week later, he sat himself down on your desk and asked whether you were free to work late.

“Yeah, I can stay back tonight. You want to run through the new media campaign?”

Hawks had just signed a big partnership deal to be the face of a new sports drink and the company had sent over a list of promos and appearances they wanted Keigo to do.

You missed the odd gleam in his eyes when he spoke next, “No hot dates tonight then?” he teased instead.

Ah. Your smile dimmed a little, “Nope. Never even got a call back,” you laughed sheepishly, shrugging it off. Personally, you’d thought it had gone well. Kenta had seemed interested, even kissed you goodnight after walking you home, but he’d ignored the texts you’d sent the next morning and you hadn’t heard from him since. It stung a little bit, you could understand if maybe he wasn’t as into you as you’d thought, but you’d at least expected a polite message to say as much, but no. He’d simply disappeared seemingly off the face of the planet.

Hawks’ grin widened. “Aw, don’t worry sweetheart. We’ll have plenty of fun tonight, just you ‘n me.”

Something felt off as he reached for your hand and squeezed it, but you shook it off. It was just Hawks being Hawks, it never meant anything. He was just your boss, nothing more.

He seemed oddly on edge for the remainder of the afternoon, his wings rustling in agitation as he worked and the very moment you’d bid Fumikage farewell, he was on his feet, offering you a glass of wine and ushering you back into your shared office.

“Are you happy here with me, Y/N?” he asked as you pulled your chair over to his desk.

You felt the weight of his stare as you took a sip of the wine - red and fruity, the faintest hint of a spice you couldn’t quite put your finger on, but it was delicious, far better than the usual wine Hawks poured for nights like these. “Of course I am.” You wouldn’t still be here otherwise.

Hawks smiled, letting out a relieved sigh, “That’s good. I’m glad to hear it. I was a little worried, y’see, when you started blowing off work.”

Your eyes widened, a spike of panic shooting through your veins, “Is this about the date? Hawks, it was one night-”

He raised a hand, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Baby, I’ve told you before, call me Keigo.” You took another sip of wine, desperately trying to calm your racing heart. “But it’s all good. I took care of that little problem for you, sweetheart. I just needed to hear that your heart was still in this. You want to do good, right? You want to be a hero?”

He spoke the words so casually, it took a moment for them to sink in, but when it hit you, it hit you like a ton of bricks, a wave of dread that swelled and crashed over you, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. “H-Hawks, what are you talking about? What do you mean you took care of the problem?!”

He acted as if you hadn’t spoken, leaning in close as his crimson wings stretched out wide, boxing you in. “You know you’re never gonna be a hero, don’t you sweetheart?” He reached out with one gloved hand to touch your cheek, and you tried to lurch away, but your movements were slow, unsteady, and he easily followed you.

Panic, sharp and terrifying, clawed its way up your throat, “Wha- why c-can’t I move?” you gasped as you tried unsuccessfully to will your body to push away from him. Your arms felt heavy like they were tied down with lead weights, your head hurt and your vision was starting to swim. As your eyes desperately swept across the room, looking for anything that could help you, you saw it - Hawks’ wine glass, sitting untouched on the desk.

He’d drugged the wine, that fucking asshole!

Hawks just sighed, shaking his head with a soft, almost sympathetic look on his face. “It’s okay, babe. Don’t fight it. You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

You didn’t, you absolutely did not! Until about five minutes ago, you’d never thought he’d drug you either!

You made a panicked whine as your limbs stopped responding to you. Hawks just tsked, his thumb brushing against the soft skin of your cheek. “Shh. You said you wanted to help, to do good. I’ve done a lot of thinking these past few weeks, Y/N,” he said as he stood, rounding the desk to perch on the armrest of your chair. Tears flooded your eyes as he leant over and pressed a kiss against your cheek, his fingers sweeping a stray lock of hair away from your face. 

“Pl- ple-” the words simply wouldn’t form, and you choked back a sob as Hawks cooed sweetly, pulling you out of the chair and into his arms as if you weighed no more than a feather. 

“This really is the best way you can help me. I’ll protect you, keep you safe from the world, from all the villains and bad men out there who wanna hurt you.” He stroked your cheek again, smiling as you cried, “It’s gonna make me a better hero, baby, knowing that my little cutie’s waiting for me to come home every night.” 

All you could manage was a soft whine as he tilted your head up, his lips meeting yours in a mockery of a kiss. His tongue, hot and hungry, plundered your mouth, and he groaned at the taste of you - sweet and heady from the drugged wine. If he was bothered by your lack of a response he didn’t let it show, one hand reaching up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. The stubble on his chin scratched against your skin as his lips moved roughly against yours, greedily swallowing every gasp and moan he unwittingly drew from you. He bit down on your plump bottom lip and pulled away, grinning wildly. “Don’t worry, babe, I’m only doing this because I love you. I’m gonna treat you so well,” he whispered, his golden eyes burning with sinful intentions as his hand slipped from your waist, trailing down your side and sliding between your thighs. “Gonna make you feel so good.” 

His hand disappeared underneath your skirt, and you shuddered as you felt his gloved fingers brushed against your panty covered sex. You wanted to scream, to shout and fight, but all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and pretend you didn’t feel a thing when he pushed aside the damp material and stroked your pussy.

Hawks just chuckled at your reaction, pressing another kiss against your cheek as he pulled his hand away, marvelling at the syrupy wetness on his glove. “Fuck, you’re eager, aren’t you sweetheart? But let’s get you home first, yeah? We got all the time in the world, no need to rush.”

[pipermca]

Writing continues. I’ve had several new bits for my Alt Modes and Alchemy AU in mind for ages. As one of them is a disjointed serial in the same way that After Tempest was, I decided I’ll pre-post the rough drafts of it to Tumblr (and Pillowfort!) the same way as I did for that story. :)

This is a direct sequel to A Bonding, a Coronation, and a Funeral, and actually begins the same evening where that fic ended.

Tentative title is The King and the Bounty Hunter, so you know where this is going. ^.^

**************************************************

King Smokescreen couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a good time taking fuel.

Maybe it was because he rarely had a chance to sit and talk with his brother about something that didn’t involve the work of running the kingdom or dealing with the complex politics between the throne and the noble houses. Both Smokescreen and Prince Prowl had been incredibly busy for the past half vorn. Between planning and managing all of the changes Smokescreen wanted to bring to Praxus, and dodging insistent nobles who wanted to introduce their creations to the very publicly unattached King, that simply relaxing and enjoying an evening had fallen out of their schedules.

Cadet Jazz had been busy with training, of course. High Commander Irridus had advised Smokescreen privately that it likely wouldn’t be long before Jazz started climbing the ranks of the Praxian Cavalry, since he was both skilled and charismatic. Irridus wanted him in a leadership position as soon as possible. But Jazz was content to work his way up the ranks slowly, and so was spending a lot of time away doing training exercises. As a result, Smokescreen hadn’t talked with Jazz in quite a while, either, although he was sure that Prowl missed Jazz’s company far more than Smokescreen did.

The third companion at the table was new to everyone present. Smokescreen found the bounty hunter a fascinating mech to talk with. Devcon had successfully brought in the rogue Prelate Hitch, the Temple priest who had been involved in the attempts on Smokescreen’s life... And in Lord Halfsteel’s death. Smokescreen was grateful to Devon for helping to finally tie up the last loose end in the horrors that had been unleashed on Smokescreen’s coronation day. But the bounty hunter was also quick-witted, had an interesting take on the politics in the region, and listened to others with an intensity that Smokescreen found strangely appealing. And as he listened to Devcon and Jazz trade stories of their travels around Cybertron, Smokescreen watched how the winglets on Devcon’s back moved whenever he laughed in his deep voice.

Smokescreen didn’t realize how much he’d missed doing exactly this: lounging around after a meal, sitting and laughing and talking with others, enjoying a glass of engex along with the company and the conversation. It reminded him a little of the days before the crown, the mantle, and the realities of leading a country had settled on him, back when he could just relax and be at ease.

Hmm. Maybe he had buried himself in his work a bit too much.

Jazz was the one who broke the spell that had settled over Smokescreen. "Well, Devcon, it's been a real pleasure meetin' ya, but I just got back from field training and I'm runnin' low on energy," he said with an apologetic tilt of his helm. Then he turned and smiled at Prowl. "And, I promised Prince Prowl here we'd get some alone time together before I let myself collapse into stasis." He slipped his hand under the table, and whatever he did there caused Prowl to sit up straight, and his wings to flare out with an audible click.

"Jazz, please," Prowl murmured, but Smokescreen knew that the slant of Prowl's sensor wings meant he didn't really mind Jazz's attention.

As Jazz and Prowl pushed their chairs back from the table, Devcon also stood up. "The pleasure has been mine, Cadet Jazz. And thank you, Prince Prowl," Devcon said, giving them both a small bow. "Please, if you are ever in Altihex, be sure to send me word so that I can return the favour. I can arrange accommodations and company, if you desire, even if I am away on a contract."

Prowl returned Devcon's bow. "I shall be sure to do so," he replied. He nodded at Smokescreen, who was still sitting. "Good night, your Majesty." He narrowed his optics slightly. "Remember our meeting with High Commander Irridus is scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning."

From his seat, Smokescreen held up his glass to his brother in a toast. "I remember, Prowl," he said, suppressing the irritated flick of his wings. "Have a good night."

As Prowl and Jazz made their way out of the dining room, arm in arm, Devcon both took their seats again. "You must also be tired. You said earlier that you'd been on the move for almost an orbital cycle," Smokescreen said, swirling the last bit of engex in his glass before draining the last of it. "Please, don't feel obliged to stay here on my behalf. I... tend to stay awake far later than I should." He picked up the bottle, pouring himself another glass. "On the other hand, you are welcome to a refill, if you want one..." Smokescreen held up the bottle and tipped his wings upwards questioningly.

"Yes, but just a small amount. Thank you." Devcon leaned forward offering his own glass. "This engex is very good, but it's not a type I'm familiar with."

Smokescreen smiled. "I'm not surprised," he said as he started to fill Devcon's glass. He'd only splashed in a little when Devcon held up his hand for him to stop. He switched to his own glass and continued to pour. "This is Northern engex, distilled here in Praxus. The mines in that principality produce some of the purest quality energon in the country, and they have a secret process for its distillation that's only passed on from creators to creations. I daresay you won't find anything like it anywhere on Cybertron."

"I can definitely agree with that. It has very distinctive flavour." He waited until Smokescreen had filled his own glass to the top before leaning back into his seat. He took a contemplative sip. Then he said, "Would it be all right for me to be a bit familiar, your Majesty?"

"That's fine," Smokescreen said. "And please, if we're not talking about business or politics, just call me Smokescreen."

"As you wish... Smokescreen," Devcon said, but there was an odd smile on his face. "And that's exactly the sort of thing I would expect of you. You see, when I accepted your offer for dinner tonight, I was only being polite. But I ended up having quite a good time. It was like..." He tapped his fingers on his glass for a moment as he thought. "It was like an enjoyable dinner with friends." The bounty hunter gestured at the empty chairs where Prowl and Jazz had been sitting. "Being able to talk casually over fuel about everything and nothing was not something I expected when I accepted the invitation to dine with royalty."

"I know Praxus developed a reputation across Cybertron for being a severe, suffocating place, but I'd hoped that some of the news that has made its way out of here changed that preconception a little bit." Smokescreen tipped his wings upwards again. "Can I ask what you were expecting?" he asked.

"It's nothing specific about Praxus." Devcon took another sip from his glass before replying. "My services are in demand, and as a result I've had audiences with governors and nobles and all manner of rulers, all across Cybertron," he said matter-of-factly. "And I've come to expect a certain distance that rulers keep themselves from other mechs. I assume some of it is to ensure an air of objectivity in any association they have, but it always comes across as a coldness, or a sense that they truly think they're superior to the mechs they rule." Devcon's gaze held Smokescreen's evenly. "You don't come across that way, which is a surprise especially with what I thought I knew about Praxus. The care that you show your subjects is obvious in the way you speak about them."

Smokescreen felt a little wash of gratification at Devcon's words, and he inclined his helm at the bounty hunter. "Thank you. I hope the citizens of Praxus feel that way, too." Smokescreen took another drink from his glass and then stared into it for a moment. "There is a lot of well-earned anger and resentment towards the nobility in Praxus, and I want to do as much as I can to reconcile those hurts and indignities that have been perpetuated through generations." He frowned. "It'll take time, though, and I'm being fought every step of the way by nobles who don't want change."

Devcon's winglets twitched. "I surmised some of that in the brief I was given in the contract."

"It's a relief knowing that Hitch has been captured and will face justice along with Lady Crossflare." Smokescreen took another drink. "It's certainly not an end to the trouble that he and Crossflare caused, but hopefully other nobles will see that I'm serious about helping common Praxians, starting with those in Emerald Lake."

Setting his glass on the table, Devcon asked, "What did they do to the mechs of Emerald Lake?" His winglets twitched upwards. "I take it that's a principality?"

"Yes. Lady Crossflare and her family ruled it since before my grandsire emerged," Smokescreen said, twirling his empty glass in his fingers. "They ruled it with cruelty and greed. The crown essentially ignored all that was happening there, and for that... I must take full responsibility, on my family's behalf." Smokescreen held the glass still in his fingers and pulled another vent. "When Crossflare fled Praxus after... after the attempts on my life and the attempts on my brothers' lives, she left her principality destitute. I've sent a team there to help those in most need, but Crossflare emptied the principality's coffers and took everything with her. And now, apparently, it's in protected accounts in Altihex." He grimaced. "No amount of charms from our alchemist or spells from our sorcerer has been able to give us any information about those accounts."

"There's a reason they're called protected accounts," Devcon said. He rested his elbows on his chair's armrests and clasped his hands together. "They're specially protected with charms of their own to prevent exactly that sort of meddling. Of course, that makes them very popular with – ah – unsavory elements, but the Ruling Council in Altihex has upheld those protected accounts for hundreds of vorn." He shrugged. "You might say it's tradition."

Smokescreen nodded glumly. "Yes, I've learned more about Altihexian protected accounts in the past few orbital cycles than I ever needed to know, I think." He twirled his glass again. "I just wish that we could get our hands on the shanix Crossflare took with her. That amount of money could do a lot of good for them mechs in Emerald Lake, and based on the accounting records we seized, the money rightfully belonged to the Praxians living there." He let out a quiet vent, thinking of the reports he'd received of the living conditions the mechs of the principality had been left in after their Lord had left them. They had been destitute before: being forced to work to pay off illusory debts to their Lord, debts that only compounded as time went on and were passed from creator to creations, no matter how much labour was completed. But now, what little shanix circulating in the principality had been spirited away by Crossflare, leaving everyone living there without the financial means to even survive. "Right now the crown is helping to make sure they're getting the fuel they need and the maintenance they lack, and we're trying to stabilize the situation there, but..." Smokescreen fanned his fingers wide as if scattered away chips. "Our resources are already stretched thin. We've been shut off from the rest of Cybertron for so long everyone is reluctant to do business with us still, since we're an unknown quantity." He shook his helm. "I understand their position, but unfortunately it means I'm limited in how I can help Emerald Lake until we get some new trade treaties negotiated."

Devcon's helm had slowly tipped to the side as he listened to Smokescreen, his attention focused on the king closely. "I'm surprised that the crown – the government – is stepping in to help," he said. "In Altihex, the expectation would be for them to find a way to make do, until they can pull themselves up. Giving away shanix like that... Some might say that it just encourages laziness."

"These mechs had nothing. They were starving. They were suffering from engine burnout because they hadn't even had basic maintenance since they were created. They were living two or three dozen to a single dwelling, the adults recharging in alt mode outside to make room for their creations. They were fighting to survive day in and day out, simply because the wages they were paid were not enough to live on. To permit that to continue was unconscionable," Smokescreen said, his words becoming louder and louder as he spoke. When he saw Devcon sit back in his seat, watching him warily, Smokescreen pulled another vent and shrugged, letting his wings bob up and down. "What else would the crown use its money for, if not in the interests of its citizens?" he asked. With a frown, he added, "If I did not use it to help them, then I would just be hoarding cash for no reason than to keep it."

Relaxing infinitesimally, Devcon nodded thoughtfully. "I've never thought about it like that before," he said. A tiny smile flashed across his face. "That's very different from how the governor in Altihex would view the situation, to be sure."

Smokescreen vented again, suddenly realizing how much he'd let himself say. He could almost see Prowl's disapproving frown. Smokescreen always did have a loose vocalizer when he was drinking. It had gotten him into trouble more than once. He gave Devcon a wan smile and tried to shift the subject. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go on and on about that. The internal politics of Praxus probably don't interest you that much."

But Devcon's optics brightened slightly; he seemed to have been lost in thought for a moment. "That's quite all right," he said. "After all, knowledge is part of my trade, and every detail is interesting to me. For example, I had heard that the laws in Praxus changed with your coronation." Devcon gestured towards the doorway where Prowl and Jazz had vanished. "Your own brother is promised to a non-Praxian, and I know your youngest brother is also bonded to a non-Praxian." He smiled at Smokescreen. "You were crowned less than a vorn ago. You work quickly."

"I had... motivation to move quickly," Smokescreen said, remembering the utterly defeated look on his friend's Halfsteel when he talked about the mate the Praxian Temple had chosen for him. "Those laws were some of the first ones I eliminated. Now, a pure-bred Praxian – a noble – can bond with whomever they wish."

Devcon nodded thoughtfully. "Of course. That was part of the information I collected as part of my investigation into my target's whereabouts." Devcon looked at Smokescreen evenly, his blue optics focused on him like a synth hawk. "But – and forgive me again if I am too informal here - it is a surprise that you, the sovereign King of Praxus, is not yet even promised." Devcon lifted a brow ridge. "Unless the customs in Praxus are very different than outside its walls, the first matter of business for a new ruler is to secure their legacy through an heir."

Smokescreen could not suppress the twist in his spark at Devcon's words. His emotions must have been obvious in his expression, because the bounty hunter immediately bowed his helm. "My apologies, your Majesty. I should not have-"

"It's all right," Smokescreen said, waving his hand. When Devcon lifted his helm enough to look at Smokescreen again, Smokescreen managed a facsimile of a smile. "You are exactly right. And you're definitely not the first to have noticed that I am not bonded," he said, thinking of all of the unattached mechs who had been paraded past him in the past few orbital cycles. But he also remembered the golden orb sitting on his desk in his office, and the golden optics of the mech that the orb represented. "Had things played out the way they should have I-" Smokescreen tried to cover the falter in his voice by taking another gulp of his engex. The burn of it steadied him enough to continue. "I did have a promised, before my coronation, but we had only just discussed it. We never had a chance to make it official."

Devcon's blue optics widened, just slightly, and the winglets on his back rose in the same way a Praxian's might when they suddenly understood something. "Your deceased majordomo, I presume," Devcon said.

It was Smokescreen's turn to lift his wings. "Am I so easy to read? Or are there loose lips amongst my household staff?" he asked, knowing the engex was getting to his processor by the bitter tone the words took when they came out of his vocalizer.

"No, your Majesty," Devcon said with a shake of his helm. His voice was gentle. "But it's part of my job to make connections where others might not."

Smokescreen swirled the last bit of engex in his glass, careful not to let any slop over the edge. A voice inside his helm (which sounded very much like his sire, or maybe Prowl) said that he should investigate exactly how Devcon made those connections. But Smokescreen's ambition to do anything had been dulled by the engex, just like it always was four glasses into a bottle.

So instead, Smokescreen vented softly and said, "Halfsteel took the bolt that was meant for my spark. Minutes before that, he had sworn to protect me with his life." Smokescreen tipped his helm back and swallowed the last mouthful of his engex, savouring the burn as it washed down his intake. He coughed a few times before adding, "He was loyal to the very end."

Devcon lowered his helm again. "My deepest condolences on your loss, your Majesty."

"Thank you. And it's Smokescreen, remember?" With an effort, Smokescreen focused his optics on Devcon again and smiled. He gestured with his empty glass at Devcon's. "Would you like some more?"

"No, thank you... Smokescreen," Devcon said, and rose gracefully from his seat. "While I have very much enjoyed your company and your hospitality, just like you pointed out earlier, I have been running almost non-stop for an orbital cycle. I am afraid it's catching up with me now." He bowed deeply, his winglets twitching as he stood up. "Thank you again, your Majesty, and good night."

"Good night," Smokescreen said with a nod from his seat. He knew better than to stand up right now; he might be in danger of toppling over if he tried. He watched as the bounty hunter gracefully swept out of the dining room, and then poured himself another glass of engex. Just one more wouldn't hurt.

Smokescreen sat in the silent dining room, alone, staring at his glass, watching how the flickering lights of the wall sconces reflected off the surface of his drink, and remembering golden optics that once looked into his own with love before they flickered and faded.

[nineteenninety-six]

Trouble Maker

REQUEST:  Tommy Shelby x pirate-kind-of!reader? Where like the reader is similar to Pirates of the Caribbean (if you've seen the movies) and she and her crew walk in to Small Health ever so casually and just... start mischief? What would Tommy do when he found out the captain is a woman and he falls head over heals for her? 😂 Thank you

This isn’t exactly what you asked before, I didn’t go with the pirate route but hopefully, you enjoy this.

Y’all, I keep on procrastinating my uni course work and it’s due next month :/ I need to do it asap so I can pass and graduate but I’m just so lazy. Anyone else have a problem with procrastinating? 

TAGLIST: @futuristicslimemongerbanana​ @dayna041101​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @sweetgoodangel​ (If you’ve changed your user or wanted to be removed/added pls tell me :)

 “Again Tommy! That fucking group have done it again!” 

Arthur came storming into Tommy’s office, face red from anger and frustration and Tommy was starting to feel the same. They had been dealing with a troublesome gang that had appeared in Small Heath a few months back, the gang had taken their clients, money, men and more and Tommy had reached his limit. The most frustrating part was that the members of the gang blended in with the general public, they didn’t wear anything that indicated that they were part of a gang like how his men wore peaky caps.

“Tommy, we gotta do something about this,” Arthur growled out, struggling to keep calm. 

“We will Arthur. Family meeting tonight, tell everyone.”

Arthur huffed a sigh but nodded at his brother and left his office.

Tommy put his head in his hands and sighed, he was utterly exhausted from everything and this new gang was exhausting him even further, he just wanted to sleep for a few days and have nobody disturb him but he couldn’t so after he downed the rest of his drink, Tommy stood up and left his office to start laying down the foundations of his plan. 

That evening when he returned to the house on Watery Lane after spending the afternoon in Small Heath and the surrounding area, he found his family already waiting for him along with his uncle Charlie and Johnny Dogs.

“Right.” He started as he slumped into the free chair, he didn’t think he could stand for any longer, “It’s about time we dealt with these fuckers eh”

“Too fuckin’ right,” John grumbled as he chewed on his toothpick irritably.

“What’s your plan, Tommy?” Polly asked her nephew.

“Since they blend in so well, we’re gonna sneak into their ranks.”

“How are we going to manage that?” His aunt was doubtful.

“We’re gonna get some of the kids to try and sneak in and join that gang, ones that haven’t fully integrated into the Peaky Blinders and haven’t been seen with anyone here. They’re our best chance.”

Everyone in the room looked doubtful and Tommy couldn’t blame them, it was a weak plan but it was the best thing they had.

“I know it’s not the greatest but we’re barely able to catch their street crew. We have no chance of even sniffing the leader otherwise.”

Polly sighed but nodded, “You’re right.”

“Is everyone in agreement?” Tommy asked.

Everyone in the room voiced their approval, it took a bit for Arthur and John to fully come around as they much to prefer to go around storming into places and shooting but they understood that it was possible.

“Good. I’ll send the kids off tomorrow.” Tommy told his family before he left the house, he set a path towards his office before he changed it to the Garrison, he really needed a drink.

It took a few weeks before they made progress on their plan, one of the kids they sent out and returned with the address of the rival gang’s main hub. They had immediately struck gold and Tommy was grateful because he was on the verge of giving up. Tommy didn’t tell his family straight away knowing they wanted to go in there guns blazing, he didn’t want that, he wanted the chance to see the person who was giving him so much grief.

The building was old and derelict, an old thing that been abandoned for years and it was the perfect place for a new gang to inhabit.

Tommy spent a few days watching the building where they based, taking mental notes of when guards changed shifts and any weak spots of the building along with watching for any faces he recognised going in and out of the building.

One night Tommy slipped into the building, after days of staking out he found out this was the best time as defences were weak. He slowly crept around the building, gun in hand just in case as he tried to find the place where the boss of the group settled. After scaling the building he found what he assumed to be one of the original old offices of the building on the second floor but he could tell it was currently used, it had paper strewn everywhere along with a few candles that currently weren’t lit. It reminded Tommy of the messy tidiness of Alfie’s office.

Tommy decided to make himself comfortable, he lit the candles in the room before he sat himself down in the chair that sat opposite the desk. He got a through a few cigarettes before he heard footsteps approaching the office. The footsteps faltered slightly as the person realised the lit candles before the continued but more cautiously. 

“Can I help you?” The person asked.

Tommy found himself caught off guard, that certainly wasn’t the voice he was expecting. 

Tommy shifted so that he turned to face the doorway where the person was waiting and what he saw, it was a woman, a very beautiful one at that.

“I hope so.”

The woman’s lips quirked as she recognised the man in front of her, “Ah, Thomas Shelby. I was wondering when I was going to see you.”

“You expected me?”

“Of course.” The woman walked further into the office, “I’ve causing havoc in your streets for the last few months, I knew you were gonna find me, it was just a matter of when.”

“So you’re the one behind everything.”

The woman smiled as she poured them drinks, “Surprised that I’m a woman?”

Tommy paused for a bit before he answered, “I am but at the same time, I’m not. I know my fair share of strong women.”

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint then.” The woman brought over two glasses of whiskey, placing one in front of Tommy before taking her seat behind the desk.

“(Y/N)” At Tommy’s confused look she elaborated, “My name.”

“Well (Y/N), you’re a hard person to find.” Tommy nodded.

(Y/N) smiled again, “How did you end up finding me?”

“Got some boys to infiltrate your crew, as soon as one of them was taken here they told me.”

“Smart.”

“Listen.” Tommy switched the topic, “We need to come to an….agreement on what to do.”

“What to do? There’s nothing to do Thomas Shelby, it’s a turf war and we’re winning.”

“You know how easy it was to sneak in here after a day of watching in place? I could’ve easily came storming in with my brothers, who would have happily come in gun blazing but I didn’t tell them for reason. I wanted to talk.”

“So? I can tighten up security.”

“I know what you look like, I’ve already infiltrated your network once, I can easily do it again and you’d have no clue who it would be. So unless you plan on gutting your crew and starting anew, I suggest you listen to what I propose.”

(Y/N) scowled and took a gulp of her drink before she nodded for him to speak.

“First off, you stop taking my clients and business deals--” Tommy saw her open her mouth the protest but he cut her off before she could even speak, “No- listen to me. You can keep the one you already have but that it. You want business clients? Go and find them yourself instead of taking mine.”

Tommy continued. “Second, there is no fucking turf war. Small Heath is the Peaky Blinders and I’ll allow you to stay here and work but nothing in this town belongs to you. And thirdly, stop attacking my men and destroying my buildings.”

(Y/N) was still scowling but she was nodding along.

“Have we got a deal?” Tommy asked.

(Y/N) sighed but nodded, it wasn’t a terrible deal by any means and she wasn’t being shafted. The deal allowed her to still work and get money.

“We’ve got a deal.”

Tommy stood up and held his hand out to shake her hand but instead of shaking it, (Y/N) made her way around the desk to stand next to him. When she reached him, she tugged him down by his collar and gave him a kiss which he then deepened. When they pulled away they were both breathing heavily.

“I like to do things a little differently.” (Y/N) said as she licked her lips.

“I can tell.” Tommy’s eyes followed the movement. 

“Goodbye, Thomas.”

“Call me Tommy.”

(Y/N) smiled, “Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Goodbye, (Y/N).” Tommy stepped back and sent her a wink before he left her office.

Tommy was looking forward to their next interaction, he found the woman intriguing and fascinating and he wanted to know more about her.   

[ineffably-good]

Prompt: Glorious

This is part two of my last prompt, which you can read here. 

Part of the Good Omens 30th Anniversary celebration prompts. You can read all of the ones I’ve completed over on AO3!

--------

Part two: Project Heavenly Slumber

Crowley was in Baghdad in the court of Mamun the Great, giving his best effort toward whatever it was demons did – foster discord, disrupt the rule of law, interfere with justice, Aziraphale wasn’t sure. He miracled himself into the outskirts of town, where he’d sensed Crowley’s presence. He found him haggling with a merchant over a pile of dates. The demon had always had a sweet tooth, although he’d deny it vociferously if cornered about it.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale said, touching him on the sleeve. “How lovely to run into you!”

“You didn’t run into me,” Crowley said, not missing a beat as he handed over his pile of coins and took the bag from the vendor. “I felt you appear just a second ago. You’re here on purpose. Come to oversee the translations, I suppose?”

Aziraphale blinked. “Translations?”

“Oh!” Crowley grinned. “All kinds of fantastic things are going on here – they’re building this thing called The House of Wisdom. Big building full of scrolls! Translating all the texts from Greece, Persia, Sumeria. Been wondering when you’d show up – right up your alley!”

“Oh dear,” Aziraphale fretted. “And here I am stuck in the courts of Charlemagne overseeing stupid wars and conquests! I’d much rather be here! If only we could switch assignments!”

The demon smiled rapaciously. “We could undoubtedly work something out, angel.”

“Oh now,” the angel replied, retreating into his prim default. “That won’t be possible and you know it. But I did come here to seek you out.”

“Oh? Missed my sparkling personality?”

“Hardly,” the angel said. “But I need your advice. I’ve gotten myself in rather a pickle. Is there somewhere we could go to talk?” 

 --

Crowley laughed so loudly and for so long that Aziraphale began to feel quite annoyed. He helped himself to another generous serving of Crowley’s precious date wine, drank it all in one gulp, and then sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

Still the demon laughed.

“Oh – oh my –” Crowley moaned, wiping his eyes and beginning to calm down. “So sorry angel, but that one is a knee-slapper! Gabriel and his glorious presence overpowering the infant Yeshua into unconsciousness!”

Aziraphale giggled a little too at that one. It never got old.

“And – and now –” Crowley tried to regain breath control, but he was still half-laughing. “And now you’ve got to go teach a bunch of idiot angels how to sleep? Oh, for Satan’s sake. I wish I had your job sometimes. No one in Hell ever says anything funny.”

“Yes, well, that’s the problem you see,” Aziraphale said insistently. “I can barely sleep myself! Hardly ever do it. I was hoping you might have some pointers for me?”

Crowley noticed the low level of the wine jug and waved a hand to refill it to the top, then poured himself a mug of it. He took a sip while thinking carefully.

“I suppose I could teach you a few things,” he said. “Things I learned in China. Breathing techniques. Ways to calm the body and achieve other states. A little bit of hypnotic suggestion, perhaps?”

Aziraphale wrung his hands. “Oh dear, I would be so grateful. Anything you have, anything at all.”

Crowley nodded. “When do you have to report in?”

“Tomorrow!”

“Well then,” the demon said, “we’d better get started.”

 --  

Aziraphale left Baghdad armed with a sealed jug of date wine, several interesting new relaxation techniques designed to help ease anyone into a peaceful sleep, a scroll or two with some interesting guided incantations in them, and a small packet of a powder that Crowley promised would be safe but which he doubted he would ever feel brave enough to use. He still had his doubts about the demon’s intentions from time to time, and he certainly didn’t want to go down in infamy as the angel who got everyone in Heaven hooked on narcotic powders.

He made his way back home, left instructions with his secretary for things to be done in his absence, and then made a show of riding off on his best horse as if he were off on his travels. Once he was firmly out of sight of any and all of the humans, he set the horse free with a gentle command to find its way back to the stables and blend in, and miracle himself up to Heaven to begin his great and glorious work.

 --

Gabriel was in that irritatingly heightened state he got into when he had come up with another new idea for team building or motivating his underlings. If regular Gabriel was hard to deal with, excited Gabriel was almost unbearable. He all but vibrated with self-importance and celebration, bestowing smiles and hearty claps on the shoulder to anyone he met.

“Principality!” he boomed jovially. “Glad you made it on time. Let me show you to where you’ll be working.”

He led the way through a winding series of corridors, each nearly indistinguishable from the next, past the library and on into an area Aziraphale had only rarely visited before – some kind of large, empty conference room, all white and chrome like the rest of Heaven, barely furnished except for a large stack of pillows and blankets someone had thrown in the middle of the room. Sitting in a half circle on the floor around the pile of bedding were eight nervous looking angels, low ranking guardians and office workers, obviously pulled from other duties and deposited here.

“Interns,” Gabriel announced. “This is Principality Aziraphale, former Guardian of the Eastern Gate, and our premiere expert on humanity. He’s here to introduce you to a human concept called sleep. Please give him your full attention and cooperate with everything he asks of you on this glorious new work. Questions?”

The angels jittered nervously and one fearfully shook her head. Aziraphale thought wryly that this was nearly the nicest thing Gabriel had ever said about him.

“Good then!” Gabriel said, whapping Aziraphale on the shoulder rather painfully. “I’ll check in on you later.”

He strode out of the room and the door sealed behind him.

“Good morning,” Aziraphale said nervously. “Shall we go around and introduce ourselves?”

 --

As the day went by, the gathered angels got less and less fearful. Most of them hadn’t met a Principality before, Aziraphale realized, and they were naturally deferential and timid. Over the course of a few hours, though, they began to loosen up and to realize that this angel, in particular, welcomed questions and comments.

After a few stretching and breathing exercises, one of them raised her hand and waited patiently to be noticed.

“Yes, Anielle is it?” Aziraphale said.

“I’m terribly sorry, Principality Aziraphale,” she said quietly, “but I don’t understand. What is sleep FOR? And why are we supposed to learn how to do it?”

Terribly good question, Aziraphale thought. He tried to remain professional, despite his doubts about the entire project. “No one really knows what purpose sleep serves, but without it humans sicken and die. Also, many of them seem to enjoy it immensely,” he said. “I believe the archangels think we might be able to influence the dreams of sleeping humans, to – well, to guide them towards goodness and help counter demonic influences.”

Another angel raised his hand.

“You don’t really need to raise your hands,” Aziraphale objected. All eight pairs of eyes stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Or for Heaven’s sake. Yes? Plavian?”

“Could we perhaps use it to frighten them back into the path of righteousness, as well?” the angel asked. “In extreme cases of course. Using the nightmares you mentioned earlier?”

About half of the other angels tittered approvingly. Anielle, to her credit, looked upset.

This Plavian, Aziraphale thought, had a bit of Gabriel in him. He was undoubtedly going to be moving up in the chain of command. He could smell the wanker gene on him from here.

“Humans can react very poorly to nightmares,” Aziraphale said crisply, “and providing and worsening them is really more of a demonic tactic than an angelic approach. We’ll focus on methods that don’t actively damage anyone’s psyche. Our Heavenly Mother wouldn’t want us to harm them.”

He stood up. “Now,” he said, “everyone take a blanket and a pillow and find a space to lie down. We’re going to try some relaxation exercises and see if we can get any of you to fall asleep.”

 --

Nothing worked. Nothing. They tried breathing exercises. They tried guided relaxation. They tried tensing and releasing each muscle in their bodies, starting with their feet and working their way up to their eyebrows. They tried calisthenics. They tried music. Finally, in desperation, Aziraphale magically dimmed the lights and read them all a story. He tried to pick a soothing one. A Tale of Two Cities should do, he thought.  

The room was quiet and there was deep, even breathing all around when Aziraphale finished chapter two. He softly closed the book and stood up as quietly as possible, peeking around in the dim light. All eight of the angels were still, their hands folded on their chests, their eyes closed.

Were they – were they doing it?

As he leaned closer to the angel nearest him, he noted that she opened one eye just a crack and grinned up at him.

“I think I’m doing it!” she stage-whispered to him. “It feels really good!”

“It does!” someone else echoed from a far corner of the room. “I think I’m sleeping!”

“Me too!” said a third.

Aziraphale tried not to tear his hair out.

“Class dismissed for today,” he said. “Go home and try some of those relaxation exercises in the peace and quiet of your own abodes. We’ll try something new tomorrow.”

 --

“You want to do what?” Gabriel said.

“I want to bring in a meal for them,” Aziraphale said patiently. “Food makes humans tired, so maybe it will help get them into the proper state.”

Gabriel frowned. “This is highly irregular,” he said, “corrupting them with gross matter.”

“You did want me to be thorough,” Aziraphale said primly.

Gabriel waved his permission, and Aziraphale got to work.

 --

“Welcome back!” he said the next afternoon. “Today we’re going to expand our horizons a bit and try a meal.”

The angels filed in, looking curiously at the table Aziraphale had set up and its contents.

“What’s a meal?” one of the angels asked.

“It’s food! Humans consume it for sustenance.”

“So, it’s like the word of God?”

Aziraphale frowned. “Not exactly. Anyway, please take a seat around the table and let’s get started.”

He walked them through consuming a variety of dishes, taking a nibble here and there himself – fruits and vegetables, savory pies, cheeses and breads in various forms, sweets. The angels gamely tried everything, most of them looking somewhat unimpressed and trying to hide their distaste for the experience. One or two of them, though, took to the meal with slightly more gusto, taking seconds of some dishes and seeming to enjoy themselves. Aziraphale took note of these ones; they were potential future allies in his endeavors, he thought, and unlikely to be appreciated here in Heaven.

After they’d finished, they did some stretching and then he lowered the lights, had them all lay down, and he led them through the relaxation program from the prior day. He hoped that being warm, comfortable, and full would ease a few of them into sleep.

Aziraphale found himself fighting off a yawn. He really had been working frightfully hard the last few days.

 --

The principality woke up some indeterminate amount of time later with the most terrible sensation of being watched. He opened his eyes in a panic and found himself ringed by his students, with eight pairs of eyes staring down at him in complete fascination.

Aziraphale pushed himself up to seated.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” he said. “Did anyone besides me sleep?”

“No,” said one of the students. “But you did it very well, sir!”

“You were making the most curious noise,” another one added. “Kind of like this.” The student opened their mouth and started to make a rumbling noise that sounded a bit like an earthquake.

“No, I think it was more like this,” the original student one said, emitting a noise like a kitten purring, but loud.

“And you seem to have created a liquid,” added a third student. “It dripped out of your mouth onto your pillow. Is this part of the process?”

“We tried to touch your dreams,” Plavian said, “but it didn’t work.”

“NO ONE TOUCHES MY DREAMS,” Aziraphale said, leaping to his feet. The students backed away nervously; they had heard what a principality was capable of, in the general sense, and even more, they had all heard strange stories about Principality Aziraphale and his flaming sword. No one really wanted to see him angry.

“Oh, very well,” he said, pulling a leather pouch out of his robes. “Let’s try a little chemistry, shall we?”

--

“So in total,” Michael said sternly, “you’ve taken eight of our most promising young angels, sullied their corporations with cheese and bread, led several of them to believe that food is equivalent to the word of God, taught them heretical chanting techniques from the Eastern empires of Earth, and gotten several of them severely addicted to opium powder. Is that correct?”

Aziraphale looked at his feet and tried to appear repentant while inside he focused on one thought and one thought alone. He was going to murder the demon the next time he saw him. This was all his fault.  

[goodnightallwhites]

Ranma, Performer by Zenalite

Chapter 1 - Miku? No, Ranma. Ranma woke up from her nap to Nabiki’s feet planted on the floor only inches away from her face. “Wake up, eh?~ It’s time to go to work.” “Already?” The busty Ranma turned to the other side. “Just five more minutes.” Nabiki growled and put her foot down on the redhead’s waist, forcing her onto her back before poking into her stomach. “You’ve slept enough! Come on, it’s time to go. You’ve only got two hours before the show starts. I got you this job, don’t screw things up for me. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” Ranma sighed, but slowly got up and started getting ready. When Nabiki had proposed that she get a job a few weeks ago, the whole thing sounded messy. They were to work at one of the high-end clubs in Tokyo where Ranma would do a simple performance for the men there and get paid. The entire notion made him uncomfortable at the time, but over the last few weeks Ranma had been going into her girl form and practicing the dances for the shows so often that at times she legitimately forgot she could switch back into being a boy whenever she wanted. So the redhead stuck to being a girl. As she slid into her tank top and shorts, Nabiki leaned against the wall and watched her, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. “You’ve gotten more in touch with your feminine side.” Ranma gave her an annoyed look. “It’s just for the job. It’s temporary!” “I’m sure.” “Don’t make me turn now and kick your ass!” she threatened. “I wouldn’t want to have to change all over again.” Nabiki just smirked mischievously. “Whether you’re bouncing around those big tits or showing them your tiny dick, it’s all the same to me.” Ranma blushed and gritted her teeth. “I do not have a tiny anything. Shut up!” Nabiki sighed with disinterest. “I’ll wait for you outside. Don’t take too long.” The club owners had only asked Ranma to get on stage in some skimpy school girl outfit and play dumb, bending over to show her panties and dropping her school bag so that all the contents tumbled out and clients seated by the lighted stage could help her pick them up and get a view of her soft tiddies from close-up at the same time. That was how it started, at least. But when the first guy slipped ¥50.000 into her cleavage, Ranma counted it twice over in shock. There was no way she could’ve ever made that kind of money as a guy in so little time. Ever. And from what she heard backstage some of the performers at the club could easily make ten times that in a single twenty minute performance if they were given a good time slot. Naturally, Nabiki took a quarter out of everything Ranma made, though she had severely played up her job. In fact, the only thing she did the first few times was sit around and wait for the tomboy to finish, though now she was trying to get the credit for being her manager and get in the good graces of the owners. “Just leave these matters to me,” Nabiki had explained, biting her lip with excitement as she counted the cash they made. “I’ll get your name out there and soon the owners will be eating out of our hands. They’ll get on their knees like dogs just to keep us here. Then we’ll squeeze out every drop and then go on to a place that pays better anyway.” She winked. “That’s how business is done.” Slowly, Ranma learned how to dance like a graceful slut. The old Ranma would’ve seen that as a shameful act, but being able to do it as a girl made him realize just how much of it required the same kind of practice and discipline as martial arts. There’s no shame in it, the redhead now thought, doing some stretches before heading out. I wouldn’t do this as a guy, but as a girl… where’s the harm? After all, at the club she put on a blue wig and presented herself as “Miku” before the audience. Who would’ve guessed that it was Ranma; and further still, who could’ve thought that it was a guy doing all those things? Warrick Sutton had learned everything he could about Tokyo over the years and practiced his Japanese enough to be near fluency. Now he was finally coming back here on behalf of the company - one last time, that is. After an arrival less than an hour ago, things were already gaining speed as his would-be business partners picked him up and insisted they go out. They wanted to secure his investment and quickly - not a good look for a revered old company. The three middle-aged Japanese men that waited for Black American at the airport and welcomed him into their limo were explaining in a combination of English and Japanese how happy they were to have him. “We haven’t worked with an American company in a very long time,” the main one among the three said, smiling in such a friendly way that Warrick could not take it as anything but complete fakery. “Well, uh… I’m sure we’ll be able to come to an arrangement.” All Warrick wanted was to get some sleep at a hotel, maybe buy some Japanese pussy as a late-night snack; but the guys were insisting on showing him the Tokyo nightlife as if he were an easily-impressed newcomer. “Plenty of time for sleep tomorrow. For now you must be properly welcomed to Japan.” This would have been a dream come true for the African American businessman two decades ago when he was still in his twenties. But now, after almost a lifetime at the same soulless company and decades of rising through the ranks as if he were a player in some spy novel, he was ready to retire and call it a day. Going to different cities and sleeping around with some high-end hookers was nothing new and enjoyable anymore. Simple routine. This is no life. There was no way he could tell his new friends that he had come here ready to make the arrangement at almost any costs to the company, since he was about to put in his papers as soon as he returned home. Then they would’ve taken too much advantage, and the company itself might’ve sued. But it certainly made their transparent courting a little boring. Warrick hoped that he could retire and at least get a few good years all to himself. Lose some weight. Maybe pick up basketball again. Travel and find himself a nice wife. In his early life he had been a huge hunk, but now with his office job he had gained some weight. There was still strength behind his massive arms, but there was also a belly accompanying it. The limo pulled up in front of a club and his Japanese companions got out, asking him to come along. “We have a very special show tonight. Special girl.” Warrick mostly laughed to himself but tried to show interest. “Is that so?” He was nearly two heads taller than these guys. “Oh yes. Best new girl. Miku. One of the finest arrivals of the season. Neon blue hair. You should see her tits. They’re huge! And you have good luck. Tonight is the first night she will show her super-ultra bust.” Some blue-haired bimbo was showing of her titties? Well, it could have been worse. Warrick was worried they might be going to some traditional theatre showing or that they would force a prostitute on him of their own choosing. He had always been fond of chicks with blue hair. Maybe this one would be interesting… Ranma was behind the stage with Nabiki finishing up her outfit and struggling to adjust her wig. In all her history at the club she had never gone out with her breasts exposed, but the show-runners and Nabiki both insisted it finally happen. Anything to get ahead of the other, more experienced performers. The redhead looked at herself in the mirror as her manager applied pasties over her breasts. They were specifically designed to copy her skin tone and emulate her nipples. Even though her breasts would never go bare, they would look bare for anyone watching. Then came the skirt, heels, and the micro bikini. “You’re all set!” said Nabiki, grinning. “You better go and impress them. Oh, and one more thing. There’s supposed to be a special guy in the audience. Give him a flirty look if you can.” The female announcer on stage was starting to hype up the audience for her show. “I’m not flirting with anyone!” said Ranma angrily, pushing her away. “Did you forget I’m a guy? I’m not some whore.” Walking away, Nabiki muttered, “You might as well be…” Warrick was confused by the giant pumpkin on stage. “Wouldn’t that be a better fit for Halloween?” “Oh, she has done it for Halloween,” the guys explained. “But she’s promised to take it one step further this time.” Sitting in the front row, Warrick stared at the hot, skinny Japanese girl walking away. He had come here feeling tired, but now he could feel his cock stirring. Even in those heels, she couldn't have gone higher up than his chest. I’d probably break her if I fucked her. These Japanese girls always whimpered and whined but ultimately took it all in like tight little champs. Scratching his ear, he began to wonder if asking his new pals to set him up with that chick after the show was over would’ve been too much to ask for. They clearly want our investment. Might as well get them to work for it. The lights were dimmed. A fun Halloween song began to play and another girl came on stage. She looked even smaller than the one before, and looked so young in the face that he would’ve guessed she was still in middle school. Her body, on the other hand, was fully developed, with the sort of big breasts and extremely wide hips he was not accustomed to seeing on Asians, more on the Black girls at home. And just as promised, her hair was blue - though more teal than simple blue - with twintails dangling at the sides and swaying with her moves. Warrick was not ready for the kind of feelings he got by looking at her. Christ… “Hello, everyone!” she said into the microphone. Despite the cute appearance, her voice was a little gruff for a girl. She sounded grumpy. “I know you’ve been waiting for this for a long time, so please enjoy and remember to show us the love if you want to see more next time.” As soon as the dance started she beamed with joy, moving her arms this way and that along with the song. It was the cutest thing Warrick had seen in a long time, and the way her boobs bounced as she side stepped was amazing. The manner in which she moved was sensual, but in a very different way from the strippers back home, or even geishas he’d been to. This was just exuberant and full of life, making him want to dance alongside with her as much as he wanted to fuck her. At some point Miku grabbed the straps of her bra and stretched them till people could get a look at her bare breasts from the side. Some men in the audience cheered. His companions cried out for more and Warrick could not help but cheer with them in his enthusiasm. “Yeah, show us your tits!” they demanded in English that sounded way more broken as they raised their voices. The teal-haired beauty seemed to glance their way and Warrick blushed. Oh, what a shame that he only had five hundred bucks in cash. He would’ve liked to give her a lot more than that for what she was doing. Miku turned and lifted her skirt, wiggling her pale ass at the audience, then jumped a couple more times before she let it fly off. As the dance continued, a spooky riff began to play and everyone looked at the screens hanging way above the stage. There they could see a ghost coming down to cast a spell on her, even though there was none on stage. Miku acted as if the ghost was real; as the wand sent a ray of brilliance to the bra, she quickly disposed of it. The guys went wild and started throwing their money at the stage. She climbed on top of the giant pumpkin and began to grind back and forth on the thick, dick-like stem, looking like she was just about ready to put the whole thing inside of her tight teenage cunt. Is she going to get down on it? Warrick wondered eagerly.   Just as he thought, she grinned and moved her panties aside, then came dropped on the stem, fucking herself on the bouncy pumpkin as the song played. Warrick reached and grabbed his own money, rushing to the stage to throw it her way. “You’re great!” he yelled in English. “Wow, you made my night!” Ranma expected the crowd to be enthused by what they saw, but even she was surprised by how excited they were. The song was coming to an end and she knew that it was time to finish off the dance and get off of the pumpkin, but the stem felt so good inside of her that she couldn't stop touching herself. In moments like these, she completely forgot that she was a guy deep down. Fucking that pumpkin felt so satisfying to her tight pussy that she just couldn't stop doing it. She brought her finger down and began to touch her clit at the same time, her loud moans starting to replace the parts where there should have been lyrics. The song came to its end; but she was still touching herself and now all the guys were at the edge of the stage, begging her to come. “Come for me, Miku! Please!!” an older-looking guy yelled. “I want to taste it.” Ranma felt a bit disturbed by the ecstatic look in his eyes but went on anyway. A moment later, however, she could see him trying to climb up on stage. Others were trying to get him to stop, but he kicked at them away. “Fuck off! This is my dream girl and future wife!” he barked at them. But as he rushed towards Ranma with open arms, a hand grabbed him by the ankle and yoinked him back. The frenzied guy fell facedown on the stage, and Ranma could see the lights underneath the floor go dark from the impact. The guy pulling him away was a massive foreigner in a beige business suit, a black bull that looked so big and strong that she reverted to her old self for a moment and wondered: Could I even take that guy? He sure is big, but if I’m just fast enough... The creep that rushed her started getting punched by everyone, but security finally made it down and untangled him from the crowd, pushing them away so they could throw him out in the streets. Ranma got down from the pumpkin, feeling unnerved the moment her eyes connected to the Black man’s. “T-Thank you all for coming,” she stammered. “You can’t go, baby!” the audience shouted after her, all of them emptying their pockets of everything to get her to come back. Nabiki met her at the back of the stage. “What are you doing!?” the greedy business-minded Tendou demanded. “First you forget to finish the song, and now you’re running away from cash?” “You go get it if you want!” Ranma shouted. As things settled down, Warrick went back to the table and drank the fine beer in front of him. His Japanese friends bowed down apologetically. “We’re sorry about what happened, Suttonu-san. We had no idea things would get so heated.” He laughed heartily and patted one of them on the back. “Are you joking? I loved it. I loved every second of it.” Now it was this Miku he couldn't get out of his head. “Oh?” His friend’s head came up. “Perhaps we should go discuss business after your drink?” “Do you think there’s a chance we could get that girl to come along?” “You mean the performer?” The guy scratched his head. “I am not sure about that…” As his companions held his eyes, he pursed his lips and laughed nervously. “But I suppose one must try until the end.” Warrick watched him go off. Ten minutes later he returned with a slim girl with ruthless-looking eyes. “This is Nabiki-san. She is the manager of Miku-chan.” “I heard you wanted to book my client?” Nabiki crossed her arms, flashing her cute belly button to the guys around the table. Warrick could see one of them drinking and then licking his lips. “I suppose it could be done but it won’t be cheap.” “Suttonu-san, I apologize on behalf of our company, but I don’t think we are authorized to pay for this sort of thing.”   Because your company is nearly bankrupt? he wondered. The norms were to pay for as many girls as possible to get a deal. “Whatever it costs, I want it,” said Warrick. Nabiki smirked. “You’re a big American, aren’t you? Let’s talk dollars. How does five thousand dollars sound?” Warrick shrugged. “That sounds fine.” Nabiki tilted her head, intrigued by the easy win. “Ten thousand.” “Whatever you want, miss.” “Fifteen thousand?” said Nabiki, surprised. The businessman sitting next to Warrick slammed his palm down. “You little bitch! How can you disrespect our honored guest this way? As shameless as a Chinaman! Get the hell out!” “Fifteen it is,” said Warrick. “Twenty,” she said with a sense of finality. “And this idiot doesn’t get to come.” Warrick gave his wounded friend a compassionate look. “As soon as possible, please.” “How could you have agreed to that without me?!” Ranma screamed, grabbing Nabiki by the arms. “I told you I’m not a whore!” “It’s just another performance,” Nabiki explained. “Calm down.” How could she calm down? All Nabiki did was use her and then collected the profits. And god only knew how much of the money Ranma made actually came back to her instead of Nabiki’s pockets. Knowing her ways, probably most of it went to Nabiki. “He’s paying you five thousand dollars just for one performance! You can’t turn it down.” Ranma perked up at that. “Five thousand dollars?” That was a lot of cash. Why would he pay that much just to see her? “That’s right! Isn’t that great?” “But there isn’t much time to prepare,” said Ranma warily. “Don’t you worry. I’ve got an idea for how to improvise.” Warrick concluded his business and got rid of the sycophants. In the end, he got to fuck that skinny host from the club as he waited to meet up with Ranma the following day. He debated with himself whether he should save himself or not; but he did not want to go to meet with the dancer being so aroused that he could barely function. And if they did end up fucking during their first meeting, he wanted to make sure it lasted. Meanwhile, the skinny slut he got took it like a pro despite her small size. Warrick fucked her three times during the night before he passed out with her on his chest and woke up the following day to see her pussy was still oozing cum from what he did to her. Feeling confident, the huge bull dropped his shaft on her face and woke her up with its slapping weight. “Get up, sweetheart,” he said, and gave her ass a firm smack too. “You did your duty. Time to go.” Then the middle-aged lovebird spent the rest of his day grooming himself. He wanted to go out and buy a new suit, but there was nothing close to the size he required. However, Nabiki requested they meet at a temple outside of Tokyo. Warrick was confused as to why, but he spent hours with his hired driver trying to get there. When he arrived, Nabiki waited for him next to a monk that looked so shriveled, bent and crooked, that Warrick assumed he was a thousand years old. “Welcome,” said Nabiki. “Why a temple?” he asked immediately. “Oh. Omoru-san has been making this temple available for people and foreigners especially for a long time now. More of an inn, now, really. The community died off and they need to make ends meet somehow.” The monk smiled at Warrick with a nearly toothless mouth. The massive Black man pressed his meaty hands together and bowed as he thought might be appropriate, then followed Nabiki. She took him to an area at the back where the place offered the well-maintained grove of a hot spring. “You take your clothes off and get inside. Ranma will be with you shortly.” “Ranma?” Nabiki blushed. “Oh, how silly of me. That’s Miku’s real name. Ranma. I figured you deserved to see the real deal given the money you’re paying.” He grabbed Nabiki by the arm before she could head off. “You mean… naked?” “Yes.” “Completely naked?” Nabiki sighed. “And Americans say we’re prudes.” Warrick followed her swaying butt till she went down a hallway and turned to the side and out of view. That ass wasn’t half-bad. Well. This couldn't have been a trap, could it? He had five stacks of $10.000 in his suitcase, but it was unlikely they went through all this trouble just to rob him like that. After all these years of being overweight, he felt a little apprehensive taking off his clothes. Miku - or Ranma, whatever her name was - would have to see him naked eventually, but he was hoping he could make a good impression first. At the very least he hoped his cock would impress. Though given how tiny she was, that could just as well scare her off… The bull headed into the water and made himself comfortable. As he looked up he could see the dimming sky and in the far distance he could hear the barking of a dog. Footsteps. He tensed, but it was only the monk passing by, muttering to himself as he went on his business. Then, as Warrick looked around not expecting anybody, he suddenly looked up to see Ranma standing before him. She held a bottle of sake and wore a tight-fitting red kimono. “Oh,” said Warrick. “Hello.” Ranma muttered under her breath. Then she came and poured him a cup, standingly by awkwardly and awaiting orders. “Are you going to get inside?” he asked. “I saw your performance the other night. It was really good, actually. Impressive. Where did you learn to dance like that?” Her eyes came down to meet him. “Thank you,” she said gruffly. “You’re so beautiful.” The Black American drank in the curves under the kimono and followed the long braid of red hair that came to rest past one shoulder. That would have been great to grab on during fucking… “You look better with your normal hair.” “Thanks.” “I’m surprised you perform in a club like that. A girl like you could do a lot more, you know.” “Nabiki is my manager.” Not much of a talker, is she? “Well, she’s a good manager. She did manage to squeeze twenty thousand out of me. But she’s too rude to take you to the top.” Ranma’s face went dark. “Twenty? Not five?” “Hmm?” Warrick raised the cup to his lips and sipped at his sake. “Five? No, no, no, we agreed on twenty.” Ranma bolted off before he could say anything else. A few moments later he could hear thuds and screaming. The redhead returned, looking angry. “Nabiki is no longer my manager.” “I see…” Warrick looked down at the pool and then back up at her. “Would you like to get in?” “It’s too warm for me to get in.” “It’s not hot. It’s just right. Come on.” Ranma looked away. “I’d rather not.” The investor was genuinely confused. What was he going to do with this girl? Hadn’t they agreed on a private show? Maybe he would need that Nabiki girl after all. Or maybe he just needed to be a bit more pushy. This was definitely not the happy-go-lucky personality she showed the other night posing as that Miku character. He grabbed her by the wrist and tried to pull her in. “Come on, a bit of water won’t hurt you. “No!” Ranma yelled. “Don’t do it!” He wasn’t even pulling with much determination, but the redhead slipped and managed to fall in. When she came up, Warrick noticed her hair was black. Not only that, but her body looked different under those robes. Was that all makeup? No, that made no sense… Ranma gave him a long look and screamed in fury. Then she clambered out and ran away. What just happened? Warrick wondered. Was this red-headed Ranma version also a fake identity? It only got him more excited to get to the truth. What an interesting girl. Only in Japan. She returned a couple of minutes later wearing a new robe, her red hair wet. “Please, get out,” she pleaded, but it sounded more like the order of a military commander. Warrick rose as ordered and stood before her. Without her heels, she barely reached up to his neck. Ranma looked up into the foreigner’s dark eyes, trying to hold her impressions of his physique to herself. Wow, he’s so damn big… As her gaze came down, she noticed the big black cock dangling between his legs, the water from it dripping right over her bare feet. He’s big everywhere. Just looking at it was making her blush and making her weak in the knees. This is wrong. I’m a guy, she thought. It’s wrong t- “You’re so pretty,” he said, raising a firm hand to stroke her cheek. Ranma trembled. “You too,” she answered, at a loss for words. This guy’s hands were huge. His fingers too... “Me?” The big black man roared with laughter. “I’m afraid that doesn’t sound as convincing. A man can never be beautiful.” The words made a chill go down her spine. Hadn’t he seen her before when she fell? I was myself then for a few seconds. How could he not notice? “You know, I don’t normally talk like a douchebag. But let me tell you I’ve got a lot of money. So long as you’re with me, money will never be an issue.” “Money is not an issue.” “So you want to be a star?” He took a step closer and pushed her against the wooden pillar, the slap of his wet foot with the full weight of his body behind it against the slab of stone underfoot giving her goosebumps. He must have weighed at least 120 kilograms... “I doubt you need me for that. But I’d like to help. The thing I came to Japan for was the final job for me. I thought of settling down, but I could help you instead. We could start a club just for you.” A club just for her? “Who would come?” “Everybody. We’re going to put out promotional material for you everywhere. Get people talking. How do you think even desert people and eskimos hear of American celebrities?” The feeling that welled up in her was a strange one. Technically, she was only doing this for a while to get some cash. But Ranma had realized she was getting off to being watched and appreciated. To being loved by the crowd. That they called her the hottest girl even though she was really a boy. Secretly, she had already considered going up on stage one day without her wig. To be the real Ranma in front of the crowd. Or that her wig would slip and reveal her identity… Whichever way it happened, the fantasy of revealing her true identity before the world was arousing as it was humiliating. Warrick could see that his words hooked her, even if she wasn’t entirely convinced. This redhead was trembling so much that he could see her huge breasts heaving under the kimono. She was as hot as the sluttiest succubus from hell, but as cute as a little boy awfully pretending to be a wise guy. What a combination. But before he could move ahead with his idea, he needed to make sure that what he saw before wasn’t just proof of her being completely fake. He put his hand on her obi. “Take this off for me.” Ranma gulped and lowered her eyes; but she began to undress. The Black bull’s breath shuddered as he watched the gorgeous kimono open for him like a spring flower in bloom. Ranma let it fall to the sides and left her thick pale body completely exposed. Warrick put his dark hands under her massive cowtits and lifted them. “Jesus, they are even bigger from up close…” Blushing, Ranma crossed her arms to hide her nipples from view. “You’re so beautiful.” Though he was planning to help her out of a sense of love for her body, he suddenly realized just how many people back home would pay to see this. His friends from the hood where he grew up would have lost their shit if they ever saw an Asian girl with tits this big. All they knew were the flat-chested and assless middle-aged brauds that worked at the laundromat and Chinese restaurant. Suddenly, he had a vision of making movies fucking her senseless and selling them. A huge Black guy like him fucking a perfect Japanese redhead like her. They would go crazy. And then they could have their club where people could come and feel her up for exorbitant amounts. He leaned in and kissed her on the head, taking in the sweet scent of her body. His ogre arms came to envelop the rest of her as he went down with his adoring kisses, covering her forehead, her nose, and then making a longer stop on her mouth. She refused to open her lips to him, but that was fine. There was time for that. He pressed onwards to her chest, then began to kiss her right breast, bringing his mouth closer to her nipple. He sucked it in and began to massage it between his lips. As he looked up, he could see her grimacing with her eyes closed. His hands felt her surprisingly muscular back and came down to her tiny waist to follow the extreme curves of her hips. The bull teased her and bit down on her nipple as he kneaded her ass. Ranma shivered intensely and gasped, then moaned. Her hands instinctively wrapped around his bald head, but she moved them away in embarrassment once she noticed what she was doing. Warrick grinned and stood up, rolling her sensitive nipple between his strong fingers. “Get down on your knees,” he ordered as he would to any other girl he met and fucked. The investor was feeling nervous, but he could not show her just how much he liked her. Not yet. He was happy to see her obeying his orders without question, though the look on her face was deeply unhappy. Warrick grabbed her squishy ivory-white tits and put his monster cock between them, ready to get the best titjob of his life with or without her help. It turned out to be without, since Ranma looked away the entire time. But her tits were so soft, and warm, so malleable, their skin so supple and silky and welcoming that he needed none of her help. He just thrust a couple of times and already gushed with precum, lubing the throbbing BBC up properly. His gaze searched for her eyes as his shaft dominated her tits, hoping to give her a sight to remember. With his black cock between her tits is how Ranma needed to learn to think about him. Her resistance made him that much hornier and after a few more pushed he groaned and came unexpectedly, shooting his thick load all over her sweet face. “Damn!” he said with a laugh. “That’s a lot.” Covered up in his cum to the point of being blinded, Ranma stood up and stomped out of the grove, holding her hands out so she wouldn’t bump into something. “We gotta talk after!” Warrick yelled. He went to get his clothes and then heard: “Psssht!” Crouching at the side of the doorway was Nabiki. “I’m still going to need my cut for making the introductions. But I suggest you hire me yourself. I work wonders with Ranma. We’re practically siblings.” Warrick went ahead and bought some property before Ranma’s final decision came in. The clubbing scene upstart vowed that he would get her to work for him one way or another. He had sent his resignation back home and was now ready to use his life savings for establishing himself as a club owner in Tokyo. And while the business Japanese might not have been too thrilled about welcoming an American among their ranks in that way, there were enough expats around that just within the first few days the group that went up got over a thousand members. The place was done in both Japanese and Western fashion. But the main emphasis was placed on the stage where Ranma performed. But unlike the old place where the stage was elevated out of reach, here it was slightly lower than the level of the chairs, and the whole club was far smaller and more intimate. Nabiki brought Ranma around near the end of the week. The redhead wore a sleeveless red coat that made her look like she was part of a martial arts club, her braid tantalizingly bouncing above her firm ass. She took in the club with some amazement. But when Ranma finally spoke her voice sounded apprehensive: “This is for me?” Warrick went ahead and put his strong arms around her from behind, sniffing her again as he squeezed the busty tomboy against his chest. They may not have spoken since the day of that heavenly titjob, but the bull had been thinking about her ever since, feeling their potential future together materialize in his head. “Do you like what I’ve done with the place?” Ranma squirmed in his grasp, deeply uncomfortable. “It’s fine!” Warrick grinned and let his meaty fingers go over to her big tits, sinking in like the fangs of a predator into his prey. “God, but I’ve missed these,” he said as he kneaded them with relish. A few of the Japanese workers doing the interior couldn't stop staring, clearly jealous of a foreigner getting to enjoy such a native treat. Ranma gasped weakly and trembled. “You’re too rough~” she cooed. This little slut wasn’t even wearing a bra underneath. The older Black stud searched for her nipples and rubbed them lovingly until they hardened, then flicked them mercilessly. Ranma moaned and struggled to get away, but his lips buried themselves against her neck, kissing, nibbling, licking and tasting her pale flesh. “We’re going to have so much fun,” he told her. “I’m so ready for you.” Warrick’s dickwas rock solid in his pants and he knew that she must have felt it. Standing across from them, Nabiki put her hands on her hips and smirked. “She’s been talking about you nonstop since last time. But you two lovebirds can get a moment later. Shouldn’t we deal with business first?” “She’s right,” Warrick whispered to Ranma. Then he kissed her on the lips. This time he pinched her nipple and twisted it so that she opened her mouth and quickly found his way in, battling her tongue with his before he began to suck on hers with force. His paws explored the rest of her gorgeous teenage body, working himself up for what was to come. When he interrupted the kiss and moved away from her, Ranma stood there on shaky legs, blushing and dazed. It took her several seconds to snap out of it and for her scowling look to return. Warrick took her by the hand. “Come on, let me show you your new home.” Ranma could not understand why this foreigner showed so much interest in her… Given that she had the mind of a man she could recognize that her body was hot. But in no world would the old Ranma have given up everything for a woman, no matter how attractive she was. And this was still the case now. Ultimately, one needed to focus on what was most important. Achieving success brought women along either way. As the fat foreigner led her around, he quickly went from holding her hand to putting his palm over her ass. Ranma found it hard to focus and breathe when he touched her that way. Even after all these days, she found it difficult to erase the image of his big black cock out of her mind. How can it be so big? she kept wondering after that initial encounter. Not only was it bigger than what she saw on other guys, but it was much bigger than her own when she went back to being a guy. It’s unnatural. Disgusting… But the powerful way it throbbed between her tits and the copious amount of seed that hit her face stuck with her until now. Hours after she had washed it off, Ranma could still feel its ghostly presence and taste it on her tongue. And he wants to do that to me again? “Well, how do you like it?” asked Warrick. Ranma realized that she had been zoned out the entire tour. “Uhm, it’s nice.” He gave her ass a smack and came down to whisper into her ear, his hot, low breath giving her goosebumps. “If there’s anything I can do to make it better. Let me know. I want you to have the place of your dreams. You’re the star here. Do you understand?” “Yes.” He gave her another kiss on the lips and this time she opened her mouth instinctively, afraid that he might hurt her nipple again. Ranma stared into his dark eyes as they kissed, feeling the overwhelming presence of his massive body towering over her. “We should make arrangements for the first show,” said Nabiki. “I think it would be best if it’s free. That way, everyone has a change to come and see Ranma. And slowly, day by day, we’ll up the price to the standard we’ve set.” Ranma heard her but the American seemed to be paying little attention. “We’ll discuss things soon,” he told her, giving his Ranma another kiss on the cheek. “I think I need to show Ranma my private office and have a few moments with her.” “No…” the redhead whispered. Nabiki winked. “Agreed. She’s being too difficult. Make her appreciate all the hard work you’ve done. Maybe she can pay you back in some way.” Warrick could sense Ranma’s reluctance and fear as he led her into his office. Other men might have found that appealing, but he wanted her to love him back, not to be afraid of him. Women were naturally far weaker than men. Any no good loser could outpower a woman, which is why they needed the strongest men to protect them. Ranma just needed to understand that he was here to take care of her. He closed the door before he turned on the lights. Once they came on, Ranma saw the simple desk on one end with a single closed laptop on top of it. Filling out the remaining third of the room, though, was a massive canopy bed. Warrick grabbed the fabric of the curtain and rubbed it between his fingers. “See this? It’s soundproof. So that nobody disturbs us. And there!” He pointed to the cameras mounted on the bed’s ceiling. “Those will make sure every moment is recorded for posterity.” Ranma stood there anxiously, saying nothing. Warrick hugged and kissed her again, this time removing her clothes. He started by unbuttoning her top and letting those warm breasts spill out into his face, then went all the way down and yanked. His eyes hovered only inches away from her pussy, close enough to feel its heat on his middle-aged face. It was so tiny and delicate, just a pink little pussy with a strip of cute red hair growing over it. Young enough to be my daughter. The bull brought his tongue out and grabbed onto her legs. He glanced up to her scared face and gave her a teasing look before he rushed in with his tongue, smothering his face against her warm thighs and hot pussy, his tongue going in to ravage her sensitive insides. Ranma gasped, shuddered, cursed, and finally screamed at him to stop. She hit his bald black head head with his hands ineffectively, doing it till she was too horny to go. Warrick was pleased to see his tongue leaving her helplessly. Her arms reached up to hold onto the bed, but he could feel her legs losing balance. His strong arms lifted her and threw her onto the sheets. As she lay there, shivering and looking up at him with reverent eyes, he methodically took off his clothes and put his middle-aged breeding bull body on display. A body that deserved no beautiful woman but which had ruined them by the thousands. Ranma, he noticed, did not even bother closing her eyes. “I see you’re inviting me.” The redhead shook her head. “No! What are you talking about? You fat oaf, I hate you!” The bed was supposed to be sturdy but he could still hear it groan under his weight as he got in on top of her. The stud spread her legs even wider and let them come around his belly while he inched closer to her pussy. The big black cock dropped on top of her toned stomach, showing the redhead in advance just how deep it was going to go. As Ranma peered down and saw the shaft going up to her belly button and past it she took in a deep breath. Warrick confidently grabbed his dick and brought the head down to her pussy. “This might hurt a little. But not for long.” Ranma grabbed him by the wrist fearfully. “I don’t think I can do it.” He leaned forwards and gave her a kiss on the temple, staring down kindly into her eyes. “I know you can do it. And it’s going to feel great.” As he stood on top of her, the cockhead moved past her lips and she grimaced. The bull pushed it in the rest of the way, feeling inch after inch getting squeezed by her tight pussy. “Stop!” Ranma pushed her hands into his chest and tried to get him off. “Stop it!” Warrick dropped more of his weight on top of her, crushing her into submission as his shaft moved onwards to total penetration. Her feet and forearms were flailing, but most of her body was perfectly trapped under him and at his mercy. The breeding stud stroked her head and whispered into her ear. “Being broken in by a Black man isn’t an easy thing for a small girl like you. But I know you can take it.” “No…” There were tears in her eyes. “Stop. I c-can’t! Ahhh~ I can’t do it…” As her pussy attempted to push him out, Warrick moved his lower body backwards and slammed into her with the strength of all his muscles. Ranma shrieked as her tender pussy got broken in. His meaty palm covered her mouth to protect his own ears and he went on with the work, impaling her pussy onto his rod until he could feel the drenched lips of her pussy kissing the base of his cock. “That’s more like it,” Warrick whispered. When he took his hand away from her mouth, Ranma seemed utterly defeated. Her teary eyes were staring at nothing in particular while the drooling mouth hung open. Warrick moved his heavy body into position, grunting like a bull in heat, then began to pound her little Japanese cunt, his old black balls slapping wetly against her pussy. Seeing her this debilitated by his cock made his confidence grow even more. After so many years of being a shitty paper-pusher that made a salary he could never enjoy in full, he was starting to remember what it was like to be young, strong, and with dreams. He was used to fucking whatever he wanted, but it was always with the realization that it would fade away into an obscure memory. Cute faces he would never see again. Now he was training what would be his new fucktoy. His wifey, maybe. “You should be paying me for taking your cherry like this.” Warrick kissed her sweetly on the mouth. She cooed and began to shiver. “There’s nothing you won’t be able to take after I train you on a BBC.” He moved his hand under her back and wrapped both his arms around her. Then he dropped down, turning her to the side, and pressed her against him like a plushie as his veiny monstrous shaft kept her pussy stretched beautifully. “Fuck, that feels good.” He slapped her ass. “Tell me that feels good.” “It feels g-g-good,” stammered Ranma. Her soft young breasts slid back and forth against his chest, squished by their torsos, as her virgin pussy got torn up from within. As he kneaded her asscheeks, Warrick let a finger slip to her tiny puckered asshole. Ranma panicked again, but he squeezed her in place and slowly began to push his pinky inside. “I’m going to take this ass too. Not today. But you better start training for it.” She was moving so much and trembling so helplessly that she was like a little silken vibrator wrapped around his cock. Nibbling on her earlobe, Warrick let himself come naturally. Her little cunt was so tight that not a drop left her pussy initially, all of it making its way to her womb instead. It was only when he finally pulled out and left her there on the bed that he saw how much gooey cum was coming out of her steaming pussy. He took a drop against his index and rubbed it into her clit, hearing her gasp all over again. “That’s a good little girl,” he said with a grin. Ranma would never become a girl ever again. After he returned home the previous day he decided that experimenting with his girly side was over, permanently. He had been so sore down there that he could feel the stud’s cock for hours. It was only once he changed back into a guy that he started feeling normal once more. The only thing that remained was to teach that dirty shitskin foreigner a lesson. Nobody is going to touch me like that. Nobody. He left home and went back to the club to get his revenge and teach the bastard a lesson. The weather was getting worse, but Ranma was feeling confident. I’m going to kick his ass. He could still taste the bull’s sweat on his tongue from when he lay on top of his much weaker body, assaulting his sweet insides. Bastard! As Ranma entered, two security guards got in front of him and threatened violence. They weren’t there before. But Warrick stood by the entrance, too, talking sweetly to another foreigner that was getting trained by him for how to welcome customers. “You there! Fatso!” Ranma yelled. The guards growled and tried to remove him, but Warrick ordered them to stop. “Haven’t I seen you before?” “I’m… Ranma’s brother.” Warrick seemed confused. “Her brother? I don’t remember that.” “Enough!” Ranma yelled, raising his fists. “Get out of the club.” “You’re going to fight me?” “I’m going to break every bone in your body, you fat retard! So either you leave my sister alone, or I’ll end you.” Warrick smirked. “Well, your sister is my woman. So I guess I’m going to have to beat some sense into you, little brother.” They went out into the alley and the guards and hostess came with them. Ranma went in with a kick and hit the huge American right in the belly. Warrick looked down at him, confused. His body wobbled but he seemed unaffected by any pain. “What the hell was that about?” Way up above, a storm cracked to life. Ranma worried that the rain might come, so this time he tried to kick up towards his face. The Black giant moved with surprising haste and caught him by the ankle, lifting him up like a prized fish. “Let me go!” Ranma yelled. “Let me go!” “Kick his ass!” the guards yelled. “Kick his ass?” Warrick seemed aghast. “He’s just a kid. But either way, I’m not going to hurt your sister. We’re in love.” “No, you aren’t!” Ranma screamed. “How would you know?” “Because… Because I just do…” It began to rain suddenly. The girl with them panicked and ran back inside. But Warrick stood there, still holding Ranma as the cold storm beat down. The boy could feel the cold water drops hitting him in the face and going through his clothes. No!… NO!!!! When he witnessed the transformation the first time, Warrick hadn’t realized exactly what was going on. Ranma figured as much.   Now, however, she was afraid that the foreigner might beat her up to discover that she was actually a boy. But the amazed look on his face gave way to amusement instead of severity. “What the hell... Ranma?! Is that you, my love?” He roared with laughter. “What kind of parlor trick is that? Did you guys see that?!” he asked the guards. “Oh my, Ranma! That’s going to be such a sell for our clients.” TheBblack bull could not believe just how many talents his little Ranma possessed. She was a great dancer, a hell of a performer, and apparently even a magician. But one thing she needed to practice some more was her love-making. Warrick took her back to his office and took off her wet clothes, then put her back in bed. The way she looked at him made him understand that she was annoyed, possibly for figuring out her little trick before. He locked the door and took off his own clothes, then got in bed next to her. “From now on, I want you to live here.” He placed a first kiss on her shoulder then traced his way down to her full breasts. He could feel her nipples harden under the touch of his lips and grinned. “Do you understand?” “I don’t care what you say!” Ranma shouted. “To hell with you!” The bull put a firm hand around her neck but only held her comfortably. He gave her a kiss on the mouth. “Why are you so angry? Let me show you something.” He pressed a button to the side of the bed and a large screen came down. “Open files,” Warrick ordered it. “Play lovers_1.mp4.” He held Ranma tightly in his arms as the video of the two of them from the previous day began to play. The redhead watched herself on screen apprehensively. She seemed mesmerized by her image on the screen. “I’ve already sent this out to a bunch of people,” he told her. It wasn’t true, but he wanted to see her reaction. Blushing, Ranma gulped. “What did they say?” “They said you’re gorgeous but have no idea what you’re doing in bed.” “That’s not true! I’m just… I’m just new to it. I usually do stuff on my own.” The stud kissed her neck and squeezed her breast like a ripened fruit. “Don’t worry. I can teach you.” Ranma wanted the first night of the grand inauguration of the new club to be a special one. From the safety of the security office she could see the dozens of people coming in on camera. Warrick was out talking to people while Nabiki administered the final preparations. When the music came on and the lights went dark, she ran and got into position. Warrick gave a short speech welcoming everyone again and told them to enjoy the show. The redhead walked out in her bunny suit and high heels. Once she got at the center where she needed to begin her performance, the men seated in the first row were so close that she could feel their hot breathing hitting the sensitive parts of her body. This time she did a slow dance that showed off her curves, swaying her wide hips and making her tits jiggle in the red leotard. “Go on, touch her!” Warrick told all of them. “Have your way.” Ranma could tell that these men were not all of them high-class businessmen like the ones that came to the old club. Some looked exactly like that, but others appeared to be average office workers, and some looked closer to bums. Nabiki planned the first night to be one of free entries for the first in line… Even with Warrick insisting they give it a go, most of the guys in the front seat did nothing. It took the Black bull to reach out and start feeling her ass for the others to join in. “See? Isn’t her body great? Here at our club you’ll be able to feel young Ranma every night. She’s here for your pleasure!” So many hands began to touch her that Ranma could hardly keep dancing. Once the first few did it without guards interfering, the people in the back started rushing forwards. Within the minute, they had ripped the fishnet stockings to feel the bare skin on her legs and pulled her leotard down to stretch her nipples. This isn’t performing, thought Ranma through gritted teeth. They’re just using me… Warrick came through and pushed the others away, then got Ranma to kneel down before him. She knew to take his cock out and immediately began to kiss it. The Japanese men in the audience gasped to see the size of the Black, all-American dick, and watched intently as the small redheaded tomboy struggled to gulp it down her throat. “You see?” Warrick asked them. “This is what we offer at our club. Any regular here can hope to get a treat once in a while.” He lowered the microphone down to Ranma’s mouth, and suddenly she could hear the mouth sounds of her sucking on his BBC playing over the music for the entire club to hear. Her Black owner had teased her the entire day in preparation for this moment and now she was dripping wet. She reached down to touch herself even as she sucked on him, knowing much worse was to come. Why avoid it? Warrick put a strong hand on her head and rammed his cock even deeper, facefucking her in front of the entire audience. “Now, who would like to see a magic trick?” As his cock choked her, it suddenly began to shoot his seed right down her throat. In that same moment, he poured a glass of heated, smoking water down over head. Ranma could feel himself coming back. The people in the audience gasped, then clapped as Warrick assured them it was a trick. They think I’m still a girl. Warrick pulled out of his mouth and showed the pretty boy face dripping Black seed to every man there. All clapped at once, as if it were a big show. Then the bull dropped his dick over Ranma’s face, showing them just how good capable the throat was to be able to take that much. But I’m a boy. I’ve always been a boy. Nabiki came and poured a glass of cold water over Ranma, bringing him back to his female form. Ranma immediately felt the horny men members grabbing her tits with renewed vigor. Warrick whispered into her ear: “You remember what I taught you. Don’t let them down.” Warrick stepped aside to watch the magic happen. All those horny guys immediately jumped on Ranma, everyone trying to get their dick wet somehow. Some forced their dicks into her mouth, while another group took her pussy and constantly accused one another of taking too long. For the newly-minted club owner, it was a beautiful sight to witness. Seeing their enthusiasm, he suddenly got the same feeling he always did when an investment paid off beyond his wildest dreams. This time, though, Ranma was the only investment. She was his prized jewel. In months, they would be running one of the dirtiest, sexiest places in Tokyo. His little redhead wouldn’t be dressing up as other girls - they would need to hire girls to dress up as Ranma once the business branched out. As the clients abused Ranma’s body, Nabiki leaned against the American stud and let her tight ass rub against his cock. “It’s going well, isn’t it?” Warrick put an arm around her and allowed her to grind. Lately, it was clear that she wanted more out of him. But this one wasn’t sincere like Ranma. She just smelled the money. “It sure is.” Poor Ranma was taking it from every position, but Warrick saw that their lessons over the last few days hit home. She was using her breasts to pleasure cocks whenever she could, opening her mouth as wide as it could go, wide enough to fit two cocks at once at times, and wiggled her ass to make sure her pussy gave them the best feeling possible. All the while the aggressive look on her face went away to be replaced by a submissive one. Making them happy was her one true calling now. It was difficult to get them to stop, but Warrick got the customers to settle back down. Ranma sat breathlessly before them, dripping with cum off of her entire body. Slowly, as a cute JPOP song began to play, she got up to her feet and began to dance energetically before all of them, her cum-covered body glistening in the low lights. “What a show!” Warrick could hear one guy say. The cool water poured over Ranma’s body as she washed after her first day. It was rough, but she made it through. Much like Warrick and Nabiki promised, it felt good once she allowed herself to play into it. It was no different than how she got into touching herself on stage the first time. Now she would just let them fuck her a bit instead. She got out of the shower, wiped her tits dry, and put on the cream and lotion that made her soft the way Warrick liked. Then she put on the babydoll dress he gave her. This will only be for a short time, Ranma told himself. After I get enough cash I’ll just get back to training and say goodbye to everyone. She was about to get in bed and wait for her owner when he opened the door and stuck his head in. “Ranma? Come with me. I want you to meet somebody.” The redhead emerged and saw the three figures in the club. Two of them were European-looking, dressed in suits, the third was a bald white American with tattoos on his head and the beard of a viking. The fourth was a dark-skinned guy about the same height as Warrick, but with dreads coming down his head instead, wearing a shirt so tight that Ranma could see every muscle working under it. “These are my friends,” Warrick said. “They’re all interested in starting businesses in Tokyo and since they’re foreigners, we’ll be working together.” The bearded one came forwards and casually grabbed Ranma by her nipple. He said something that made the others laugh; but in English, so she couldn't understand it. “I hope you don’t mind,” Warrick whispered, “but I told them you’d show them a fun time.” There was no need for Ranma to agree. She simply surrendered to their guiding hands and did as was told. She could hear them laughing, but soon they switched to English entirely and cut her off even from the little she could hear. Instead, the White American cock was shoved into her mouth while the other Black stud came around and entered her from behind, lifting her legs up the ground entirely. The two spitroasted her while the Europeans dressed in suits seemed to ask permission to film, then immediately took out their phones to take pictures of what was happening. “Don’t worry,” Warrick told her. “This will be good for getting your name out there.” Ranma was angry to be used a second time without any planning. But the cocks felt so good that the smile crept over her face nonetheless. “All right…” Her trusted owner came and caressed her head lovingly. More affectionately than her real father ever had... “Soon enough, everyone will know about you. Everyone.”

[fluidityandgiggles]

Dalton Big Bang day 1 - The Canadian Girlfriend Experience

Writing Masterpost, AO3 Link

Notes: So... y’all. Dalton fam. Hear me out.

I understand that y'all are gonna be mad at me for staying up until (four? five?) five in the morning to post this, but I'm something like 90% sure I'd forget to post it in the morning (afternoon), and I have to write tomorrow's fic anyway, so... here's an extra early fluffy mess. Hope y'all like it.

I had to write this one... I really really had to. Han's girlfriend is a big deal to me. I hope you understand it.

(And for the uninitiated in pathfinder - the rank system is wild, feats are taken every two levels or so, Logan’s character is basically invincible, defeated only by Dwight’s monk and the absolute insanity that creating a monk in pathfinder can end up being.)

—————

"I really have to go to sleep," the familiar (by now) high-pitched voice said through the headphones, stifling a yawn. "My drama class is moving props to the auditorium tomorrow for our exam and my mom would be mad at me if I don’t go to sleep in the next thirty minutes."

"So go to sleep, Lils. I won’t be mad at you."

"Okay! I’ll text you in the morning! Love you, bye!"

"Good night."

Han finally let himself snort a bit after his girlfriend hung up, watching as she disconnects from the game a few moments later. He did say he’ll only play Starcraft today so long as Leah is available, and now that she’s offline…

He just closed the game and went back to working on his Pathfinder session prep.

Han met Leah at the San Diego Comic-Con last summer. On day one, she approached him because she thought the Westwoods’ Bat family cosplay was really cool. On day two, he approached her because her Arwen cosplay was flawless. By day three they’d already ditched the con to have a not-date lunch at In-N-Out, found out they’re in the same guild in World of Warcraft, Han found out Leah has a voice acting channel on youtube, they exchanged phone numbers, and by day four they may have not spent the whole day together but they certainly went on a date-date at the end of the day.

They’ve been rather inseparable for the following three weeks, but by then Han had to face the reality of it all. Leah’s phone number was weird to him from the start, sure, and he was willing to pass off her accent as a speech quirk, but it wasn’t until those three weeks ended that it finally sunk in that she’s not American. And like most good things, her visit too has to come to an end.

Maintaining a relationship online just… didn’t feel the same.

1 Unread Message

‘Merril: Can I suggest an idea for Mishka’s character arc?? You can say no, I just had an idea is all!’

Caterpillar: I’m all ears

———

"While this mess of a… bargain is happening," Logan called as Merril and Reed tried to catch their breaths from laughing. "Can Dwight and I get to the diplomatic debate?"

"Sure," Han sighed, watching his party quickly derail the session. "But let’s take a break first."

The first to disappear at the sound of "let’s take a break" was Lucy, who ran to the bathroom, accidentally knocking off Logan’s dice tower in the process. Merril got the brownies out and on the table, everyone pulled their phones out…

Han could take a couple moments to look at the pictures Leah sent him earlier. According to her, they were not yet done with lighting cues, and she was going crazy, but seeing her in her period piece of a costume and leg brace prop made him feel excited for her, somewhat.

Caterpillar: wish I could been there to see it 

Jabba the Hutt: Oh no! Don’t say that! Jabba the Hutt: I’ll send you the filmed version when I get it, but it’ll probably be really bad anyway.

Caterpillar: im sure it cant be that bad 

Jabba the Hutt: Han, it’s a high school production of the Glass Menagerie. Jabba the Hutt: My class is also doing the play version of Spring Awakening. Jabba the Hutt: It *can* and *will* be that bad. Jabba the Hutt: Trust me. 

"Han?" Merril called before he could answer that one. "Hansel, are you listening?"

"No, I wasn’t. What was it?" He grabbed a brownie, leaving his phone aside for a second.

"Wizards of the Coast announced a new edition of D&D," she said again, smiling gently. "Do you think you’d want to try it?"

"I’m already one step ahead of you there. I’m going to playtest it when it— excuse me…"

Jabba the Hutt: WE FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS Jabba the Hutt: I’ve never been happier to say I’m getting offstage, I need someone to punch me!

Caterpillar: dont you mean pinch?

Jabba the Hutt: I meant what I said and I said what I meant.

Han tuned back in time to hear Logan say "I just really don’t want to have to mess with the power system again", which resulted in Dwight throwing a bag of chips at his head.

"Fourth edition has a very special place in my heart, Wright. Don’t talk shit about it around me."

"Yeah, why all the hate for the power system?" Lucy frowned (when did she get back from the bathroom?). "It’s not all that different to how feats work. Would you complain about getting a new feat every odd level once we switch systems?"

"Not going to happen, Lucy."

"Aw man, but I wanted to play Vampire the Masquerade next!"

"And we already said Merril is going to run it," Han reminded her, checking his phone one last time. "But we’re not switching our current game to another system. Not gonna happen."

There was a quiet "hell yeah" from Merril as Han’s phone buzzed with a new message, but before he could even read it, it was snatched by Lucy.

"Wha… who are you talking to, Han?" She laughed a bit, scrolling up, and then her eyes went wide open. "Well… damn."

"Don’t act like you’re surprised, that’s my girlfriend. You met her before."

The silence in the room was so tense, Han swore he could hear a pin drop. 

"...a girlfriend?" Dwight was the first to ask, raising a brow. "Since when?"

"You know, I honestly thought she would’ve forgotten all about you after two weeks…"

"Since a few months ago," Han told Dwight, taking his phone back. "Can we continue, please?"

"No! It’s interesting!" Merril joined in, resting her chin on her hand as she got closer, pushing some papers a bit. "How did you meet? Where is she from? Can we meet her?"

"We met at Comic-Con and no, you can’t meet her. She’s… not from here."

"...is she Canadian?" Logan raised a brow too, starting to laugh.

"Noooooooo…?"

"Oh yeah, Han’s Canadian girlfriend."

"She’s not— let’s start to fucking play, this session isn’t going to end itself."

By the end of the session, Han couldn’t say he’d be surprised if the whole school found out by tomorrow. And if anyone (namely the twins) made fun of him for his "Canadian girlfriend"... so be it. 

———

"Is this Canadian girlfriend of yours coming to prom?" Julian’s tired voice came through the phone, sounding like he was about to pass out. He just arrived at school earlier today, already tired from the flight, and immediately got coddled by Logan.

"She’s not Canadian, Julian. You’re the twenty-fifth person I’ve told this already."

"So where is she from? Would you please tell just one person?"

With a quick glance at the security footage, to make sure Logan wasn’t listening, Han whispered "her name is Leah, I met her at Comic-Con in San Diego last year, she’s from Israel and no, I doubt she can come to prom. She has her own prom to attend."

"...okay, so this Israeli girlfriend of yours. Got it."

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you want to keep her a secret…?" He clicked his tongue. His laugh sounded a bit rougher than usual. "You know how things can end up. You of all people."

"I… I’m just not sure I’m ready for… dude. Is Logan drooling on your shoulder…?"

"Give him a break, Westwood. He’s adjusting to his new pills."

"I asked about the drooling."

"He does that sometimes. I just let him be."

"...why is everyone so interested in my girlfriend? Is it really any different from David and Katherine?"

"I don’t know how to break it down to you, Westwood, but you’re not exactly the type anyone would expect to even have a girlfriend."

A shift in the camera footage made Han cuss silently, covering his microphone.

"...she said she’ll be here for graduation. Hers is in late June, but she finishes school in May."

"Yeah. May. When prom is."

"Do you want to talk to her yourself?" He could hear Julian snort. "I’m not kidding. I’ll give you Leah’s phone number and you’ll convince her yourself. I can’t."

"Because that totally won’t be crazy."

"Julian."

"Hansel."

"Just fucking ask her, you absolute nerd!"

"Can you stop ordering me around? This isn’t Hollywood. This is my girlfriend we’re talking about."

"Can you at least send me a picture of her? So I’ll know she’s real?"

"...fuck you, Larson."

Han sent him a picture anyway. A picture of the two of them that Lucy insisted to take while they were in San Diego. They coordinated somehow, Han with his LOTR shirt and Leah with her whole Arwen cosplay. It was the happiest day he could possibly remember.

And then, a snort through the phone.

"...so you’re Leah Appelbaum’s mysterious Maryland boyfriend? Huh. Didn’t know you lived in Maryland."

"...you know Leah?"

"We had auditions in the same building two years ago and she approached me because she’s a fan of Something Damaged. She insisted on keeping in touch. How did you meet her?"

"At Comic-Con… please be gentle about this, Julian."

"Okay! I just… wow. I know where you live now. Sweet."

"Don’t you dare try to blackmail me with that information, Larson."

"I won’t. There’s nothing to worry about."

———

"...you know what?" Han sighed as the last session before prom was about to close off. "Roll sense motive."

The clatter of dice hitting each other and everyone cussing filled the room, quickly picking up their dice and looking.

"Fifteen!"

"Seventeen!"

"Five!"

"How’s you get a five, Lucy?"

"I’m a barbarian, what do you think—"

"Thirty-four."

Dwight practically glared at Logan. "What the fuck, dude?"

"I play a half-elf cleric, Dwight," Logan answered, straight-faced. "Plus two to wisdom straight away, rolled extremely well, I have a plus five modifier to wisdom and the alertness feat. I took a single rank in sense motive every time we leveled up and now I have ten ranks. On the tenth rank in sense motive or perception, you get a bonus four to the skill instead of the usual two. Thus, ten plus four plus five equals nineteen, plus the fifteen that I rolled. That’s thirty-four. Do I sense motive?"

"...everyone who rolled above a fifteen, and that definitely includes Flint—" Han could see Logan smiling smugly. "Everyone who rolled above a fifteen can see that this woman is telling the truth. Anyone who rolled a twenty or above, Flint, can also sense that—"

There was a knock at the door. There was never a knock at the door. But now there was. And as Reed got up to open the door, Han silently hoped it wouldn’t be anyone who shouldn’t be there—

"And this is your boyfriend’s room," Julian’s voice came through as Reed’s jaw dropped. "Thank you for picking Julian Larson to be your tour guide, we hope you enjoyed the trip."

"Very! Oh, hello!" The girl at the door waved at Reed, who waved back. The whole party waved back. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, those nerds are just playing dungeons and dragons. You have nothing to worry about." Reed finally returned to his seat as Julian kissed the girl’s cheek, chuckling at the shock. "Logan, I’ll be expecting you to pick me up at six. I want my pre-prom sushi."

"I promised you I will, Princess, don’t panic."

"Okay, just making sure."

As Julian left, the girl went to sit on Han’s futon and look at everyone. Long brown hair, half of it bleached; dark eyes behind a pair of green plastic-framed glasses; a bit on the heavier side, like Han himself, and wearing a floral summer dress and a pair of short leggings. Her face was flushed red, her lipstick a dark blue, and her nails painted black that just started to chip.

Han missed her so much.

"So… hi." She waved around again, a bit confused. "What’s up…?"

"Who’s this?" Dwight was the first to speak.

"My girlfriend," Han replied, sounding rather insistent. "We were just about to finish our session, Lils. Can you wait?"

"Mmhm! Absolutely! I’ll be so quiet, you’ll forget I’m even here!"

Nobody forgot she was there. Merril kept looking over to her, Reed and Dwight seemed skeptical as ever, and the only person who was normal about it was Lucy. But it wasn’t news for Lucy, she’s met Leah before after all. All the while Leah sat there, chuckling at the game and waiting patiently for Han to finish, which he did twenty minutes later. Dwight practically ran out, followed by Logan who needed to pick his own boyfriend up for dinner, but…

"So where are you from in Canada?" Merril asked first, making Leah smile. 

"I’m… not Canadian. Did Han tell you I’m Canadian?"

"Where’s your lipstick from?" Reed asked next.

"Umm… it’s, it’s from NARS, I picked it up on the way here, I forgot to pack my own makeup and—"

"Is Han taking you to prom?"

Han choked on his water at that. "I can’t leave my room for prom, Merril. Health risks."

"You can have an indoors prom."

"We planned on watching Battlestar Galactica and ordering takeout," Leah admitted. "But… an indoors prom would be nice. I’m not going to mine anyway. My class is writing this… really offensive skit about one of the math teachers and I don’t want to be a part of it."

"What’s your prom even like…?" Reed squinted, sitting back down. "That you do skits."

"It’s… not really a prom. Israel doesn’t really have the promenade culture, it’s just like a showcase the whole class does for family and friends before graduation… I’ve never liked this practice, you know, I think it’s just…"

As Leah rambled on, Han took his time to clear the table and silently hope Merril and Reed leave soon. Those two have prom dates after all. And neither are a Canadian girlfriend.

[spacedancer1701]

On Borrowed Time - a Star Trek fic (Chapters 1 - 10)

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Friendship, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Mild H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy McCoy Word Count: This is a long one 😄 (61 chapters - 120k)

Read it on AO3: On Borrowed Time 

Summary: Dr. Jennifer Hope is a breath of fresh air on the Enterprise and quickly wins the hearts of the crew, especially that of a certain CMO. But the brilliant young linguist carries a secret that seems to upset her and Dr. McCoy is intent on uncovering. In order to get her to confide in him, McCoy needs to gain her trust, and in the process, maybe, gets more than he bargained for. There’s a lot of McCoy in this story, but all our other favourite characters are there, too. 😊

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 1  

"This is ridiculous! The Enterprise is a starship, not a cruise liner for little girls who want to find out what being a Starfleet officer feels like! We don't have time to play games! We have a mission!"

Captain James T. Kirk was furious. What an outrageous idea of Starfleet Command to send a girl aboard his ship and ask him to find out whether she might - one day - become a good officer. His mission was to seek out and contact new life forms. Not to show little girls round the galaxy.

"I understand why you don't like it, Jim,” Admiral Dakunia’s placatory voice sounded from the screen, “but Dr. Hope is not just any girl. She was one of the finest students I've ever had. She has all the qualities a good officer could possibly have, ..."

"So, what's the problem?" Kirk cut him off rudely.

"The problem is," the admiral continued calmly, ignoring Kirk's irritation, "that, along with being a couple of pounds underweight for her height according to Starfleet regulations, she has some minor health issues. We need the recommendation of someone like you, Jim, if we are to allow her aboard a starship as an officer."

That took the wind out of Kirk's sails, and although he still didn't like the idea, especially after the mention of ‘minor health issues’, whatever that was supposed to mean, he muttered, "All right then, tell her to be ready to beam aboard at 0900 hours sharp tomorrow morning. I don't seem to have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, actually you don't, Jim. But I prefer convincing people to giving orders. And I appreciate you realising the importance of this,” Dakunia smiled sweetly. “So, I gladly accept your kind offer to take Dr. Hope aboard your ship. Like I said, she is specialised in linguistics, working on the intuitive enhancement of the universal translator specifically, but I leave it to your discretion to employ her wherever she might be needed. In fact, I'd very much appreciate you giving her a full all-round-training. The point is to find out how she’s performing under pressure. So don’t be too soft on her! Dakunia out."

As if, Kirk thought, but before he could start to protest again, Dakunia's image had faded from the screen.

"Damn!” he slammed his fist down on the desk in frustration. “This man really knows how to impose his will on people!"

********************

"Calm down, Jim!"

Dr. Leonard McCoy had been sitting right next to his friend in the captain’s quarters, listening quietly to the conversation. He tried to be soothing, even though he knew there was no point when the captain was infuriated by someone abusing his ship or their mission. And the Enterprise was certainly overqualified for training flights. But if Admiral Dakunia had selected the Enterprise in this particular case, he surely must have had his reasons.

At least now he knew why he’d been summoned to join the conversation.

Minor health issues! That didn’t bode well. He’d have to get hold of Dr. Hope’s file right away to find out what exactly was awaiting him. Just what he needed right now. As if a sickbay full of patients wasn’t enough to keep him busy. Best to make Jim see reason quickly, get this over with, and go back to work.

"You have every right to be angry, Jim. What Dakunia asks of you is highly unusual. But you have your orders. So, try to make the best of it. This girl must really have been an exceptionally promising student, if Dakunia is going to such lengths for her. He’s a decent, level-headed guy. I’ve never known him to pull rank for no reason. And who knows, maybe she won't be any trouble at all."

"Oh, don’t give me that, Bones,” Kirk snapped, rolling his eyes at McCoy. “You know perfectly well what 'exceptionally promising' students are like. We've met the kind before."

McCoy just tilted his head to one side, raised an eyebrow, and smiled wryly.

“But you’re right, of course. Let’s give Hope a chance,” the captain went on, chuckling mirthlessly, then added with a scowl, “but she’d better not expect me to make things easy for her. If she thinks that her connection to Dakunia gets her any favours, she has another think coming.”

McCoy almost felt sorry for the girl.

“Maybe try to be neutral when you meet her tomorrow?” he suggested. “Remember? You were just going to give her a chance. Make it a real one.”

“I think you’re needed in sickbay, Bones,” Kirk grumbled.

“I believe I am,” McCoy smirked as he got up and made to leave. “Gotta read up on those ‘minor health issues’. Good night, Jim!”

********************

After McCoy had left, Kirk slipped into his workout gear and went to the gym to let off steam.

He was livid at the prospect of this Dr. Hope coming aboard. They were not on a training flight. They had a mission. And he had a feeling that this was going to be a lot of trouble. The girl was only 23 years old, for Christ’s sake! Granted, she had already obtained her PhD of linguistics. She’d been best of her year and was obviously brilliant. Maybe even less immature than he feared. But still, his ship was not a playground for little girls.

Anyway, no matter how much he disliked the idea, Starfleet Command had left him no choice. There was no way for him to get out of this one. Bones was right, he’d better make the best of it. His orders were to fully integrate her and appoint her to every duty in any field she could be of use to the ship. He was to give her a thorough all-round training and test her abilities very carefully in order to recommend her for further starship assignment, if he thought her so fit. But he was determined to make it anything but easy for her.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 2  

Dakunia switched off his screen with a pleased smile. He’d just given Dr. Jennifer Hope the good news and had been happy to see how thrilled she was at the prospect of being on the Enterprise. He only hoped Jim Kirk wouldn’t take out his anger on her.

After having finished her studies of linguistics at Starfleet Academy at the age of barely 22, Dr. Hope had joined a project doing research on the possibilities of incorporating intuitive aspects into the universal translator.

The project had been limited to a year, and after that she’d volunteered to be stationed at a new starbase in one of the outer sectors of the United Federation of Planets. Of course, she'd much rather have taken an assignment aboard a starship, where Dakunia felt that her extraordinary linguistic talent would be put to much better use. But unfortunately, some minor health issues rendered her unfit for starship duty. At least without further recommendation.  

Dakunia had taken a kind of fatherly interest in the young woman over the past three years. She had been one of his finest students ever, and he knew that she possessed the courage and determination it took to be a good Starfleet officer.

Dr. Hope was an exceptional young woman. She'd gone through a number of difficulties in her life already and had come out the other side stronger. Knowing that Starfleet sometimes made exceptions for people who were extraordinarily capable in their field, he’d felt compelled to pull some strings for her.

Therefore, he’d contacted everybody of influence he was acquainted with, and finally they had agreed to grant her a year aboard a starship under certain conditions which she’d accepted more than willingly. Although some of them were rather hard to take. She would, for instance, hold no rank, despite her completed studies at Starfleet Academy. But she was prepared to accept virtually everything that would give her the opportunity to prove herself aboard a starship.

Starfleet Command had chosen the Enterprise, because they believed that Dr. Hope could learn the most there. The Enterprise was known to have the most capable crew in Starfleet.

After his conversation with Captain Kirk, however, the admiral was a bit worried. The final decision whether or not Dr. Hope would be allowed to continue starship duty was up to Kirk's judgement after her training period. Dakunia was afraid that the captain would give her an especially hard time - Jim was known to be a rather demanding captain. But on the other hand, he was also known to be fair. So Dakunia was determined to hope for the best.

********************

Jenny was sitting in her tiny starbase quarters, trying desperately to relax – and failing to do so. She’d been working so hard towards this day during the past three years. She’d been struggling with unknown technology, with a language she was no native speaker of, with friends among whom she felt like a total stranger at times, and with a world that she sometimes felt she didn’t belong in. And now, that the day she’d been longing for had finally arrived, she was so nervous, she felt like running away.

But it was too late now. Admiral Dakunia had already made arrangements for her departure tomorrow. The thought of quitting had occurred to her several times over the past three years, but somehow, she had always managed to hang on. If she gave up now that she had almost succeeded, all her struggling would have been in vain.

So, she gritted her teeth and told herself that she was being silly. That dozens of people before her had felt the exact same way in this situation, and that the Enterprise was no more than an ordinary spaceship with human beings aboard who made mistakes from time to time.

Who am I kidding?

The Enterprise could not be regarded as ordinary, and her crew never made mistakes. But Jenny had faced and overcome difficulties in her life before. Somehow, she would manage again. And she was determined to give it her all.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 3  

When Dr. Hope beamed aboard the next morning, Kirk was in the transporter room to welcome her personally. He wanted to make it clear from the start that she couldn't expect any special treatment because of her good grades and high-ranking connections. She had accepted Starfleet’s conditions and was going to be treated accordingly.

Kirk was prepared for the worst. He knew what ‘best of the year's’ were like. They were annoying know-it-all’s.

He looked at Scotty, who had picked up on his captain’s bad mood and wasn’t sure what to expect himself.

"All right, Mr. Scott, let’s beam wonder-girl aboard," Kirk sighed.

“Aye, sir!” Scotty threw him a glance and activated the transporter.

As soon as Dr. Hope materialised on the platform, the two men exchanged surprised looks. The woman was tiny – or rather petite, Kirk thought was the established term. But she was far from disagreeable. In fact, she was rather attractive.

The first thing that struck him about her were her big, dark eyes darting around eagerly, trying not to miss anything. She was not exactly a beauty, but much rather pretty. Very pretty. And she seemed so natural, like someone you could have a good time with. Her dark brown, long hair was fastened in what was supposed to be a simple knot behind her neck, but was obviously not used to being tied up.

On the whole, she had a slight air of unruliness about her, which made her personable and rather interesting. Kirk liked her right away. She was, admittedly, on the slim side, but not in a skinny way. And although she looked somewhat delicate and fragile, he got the impression that she had much more strength and energy within her than one would presume according to her slight frame.

********************

Dr. Hope stepped off the platform and looked around shyly. She had a warm smile and not a hint of the expected arrogance.

Kirk realised that she was a little unsure of herself, obviously not having expected to be greeted by the captain. But she didn’t just seem uncertain of what to do or say, she actually appeared to be experiencing something like a dream come true.

When she became aware of Kirk's stare, she lowered her eyes and blushed. Kirk, who hadn’t even been aware of staring until that moment, was sorry for having embarrassed her and stepped towards her with his arm held out in greeting.

"Welcome aboard, Dr. Hope," he said with his most charming smile.

"I'm Captain Kirk, … and this is Mr. Scott, our Chief of Engineering," Kirk went on to relieve an obviously more than impressed Scotty from his turn of having to say anything meaningful.

Dr. Hope, apparently, wasn’t sure if shaking hands with a starship captain was appropriate. But after a second’s hesitation, she took his hand, appreciating his endeavours to make her feel at ease.

"Thank you, Sir. Permission to come aboard, Sir," was all she could muster.

“Permission granted,” Kirk smiled, and, to make up for unintentionally having made her uneasy, decided to show her round the ship personally. He wanted to grab the chance to get to know her. Quite contrary to his expectations, he had to admit that he had taken to her rather easily.

"Let me give you a quick tour of the Enterprise first, and then you can get settled in your quarters afterwards."

"Do you show every new crew member around in person, Captain?" Dr. Hope asked, smiling self-consciously.

"Not usually, no, but I think I can make an exception for a beautiful young lady."

Blushing again, Dr. Hope quickly looked away, and Kirk cursed himself for embarrassing her even more.

"Sorry, Doctor, that came out wrong,” the captain tried to salvage the situation, “but in a way, you're not just a new crew member, you’re my guest, too. Today, at least. I have special orders regarding you, and, therefore, I need to get to know you a little. But, of course, you won't get any special treatment. After the sightseeing tour, that is,” he added grinning. “Apart from being the captain of this ship, I'm only human after all."

She smiled at that and, as they walked on, gradually lost her shyness.

Touring the Enterprise, she asked numerous questions and was interested in every little detail. But Kirk felt that her curiosity was genuine, that she was not just faking interest in order to impress the captain.

He had seen this enthusiasm in other space recruits, including himself, before, but with Dr. Hope it seemed to be even more than just that. There was an intensity to her eyes looking around eagerly, as if anxious to take everything in as quickly as possible for fear of waking from this dream any moment. As if it were a special privilege to see all this. But maybe it was. The Enterprise was the Fleet’s flagship, after all.

Kirk enjoyed himself immensely, showing off his ship and his crew to someone so eager, and also approved of how she met everyone from simple crewman to senior officer with deep respect and attention.

He was more than a little disappointed that he couldn’t introduce her to McCoy straight away, as the doctor was busy operating when they toured sickbay. He knew that his friend, who liked to maintain his image of perpetually grumbling curmudgeon, could be extremely charming, when he set his mind to it. And he was already immensely looking forward to seeing his reaction to this extraordinary young woman.

They took a short break on the observation deck, where Kirk got them some coffee, and looked out at the stars.

Dr. Hope had turned completely silent, absentmindedly sipping her coffee and reverently taking in the view. Kirk himself was still awed every time he looked out at the stars and told her how he’d wanted to be out here in space ever since he was a little boy back in Iowa.

He’d seen lots of people react with awe to the view from the observation deck, but her reaction was somehow different. She was not merely impressed but seemed to have fallen into a trancelike state. As if she’d only just realised how small she, or even the starship, was, compared to the universe.

Watching the expression on her face tugged at his heart. She suddenly seemed so very young and vulnerable to him, and he gave in to an urge to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She stiffened under his touch at first, but relaxed again after a moment. As if he’d just awakened her from her trance, she turned around and smiled up at him endearingly.

She’d obviously begun to feel comfortable around him, and he was surprised by how much that pleased him. He wanted his crew to feel at ease in his presence, expecting respect but neither fear nor worship.

How strange, he thought, that only a couple of hours ago he’d been angry at the prospect of having Dr. Hope aboard the Enterprise, and now he wanted nothing more than to make her feel welcome. She was just so easy to like. And not only because she was easy on the eye, but because she radiated a warmth and kindness that just made you feel comfortable around her.

“Makes you realise how small we really are, doesn’t it?” he asked, smiling down at her kindly.

“Oh yes, it does, Captain,” she replied wistfully. “It’s overwhelming. Who’d have thought I’d ever see the stars like this?”

What a strange thing to say for a space cadet, Kirk thought, but didn’t pursue it, guessing that she was, as she’d just put it herself, overwhelmed.

On their way to the bridge, the last destination of their tour, Kirk went a little into the bureaucratic stuff.

"You have permission to go anyplace aboard the ship and ask whatever you want to know. Mr. Spock, our First Officer, will revise general starship and emergency protocol with you this afternoon. Starfleet Command seem to be quite convinced of your all-round abilities. My orders are to give you a chance to prove yourself in every field."

“Thank you, Sir,” Dr. Hope answered a little flustered, obviously embarrassed by Starfleet Command’s praise. “I’ll do my best to live up to everyone’s expectations.”

********************

When they arrived on the bridge, Kirk savoured her awestruck face as the doors of the turbolift opened and they stepped out. He clearly remembered his first time on the bridge of the Enterprise and felt ridiculously proud of his bridge.

He gave Dr. Hope a few moments to take everything in, then started to show her around all the different stations and introduce her to the individual crew members.

Uhura welcomed Dr. Hope with a cordial smile, and Kirk could sense an immediate rapport between the two linguists. He’d noticed before, that practically everybody took an immediate liking to Dr. Hope and her warm and unassuming way.

Even Mr. Spock seemed to be taken in by her genial nature.

Although he’d hardly admit it, Kirk thought, smiling to himself.

But the way he immediately launched into a very detailed explanation of his station and duties as a science officer, prompted by Dr. Hope’s very genuinely expressed interest, spoke volumes to Kirk.

None of the reactions Kirk had witnessed so far, however, beat Mr. Chekov’s wide-eyed and open-mouthed captivation. He was so obviously love-struck that the captain was tempted to put a hand under his jaw and lift it back up.

Dr. Hope herself didn’t seem to notice. Or was too polite to show it, if she did. But then, Kirk thought, she’d seemed genuinely oblivious to the many appreciative glances she’d received throughout the ship. Maybe she really wasn’t aware of the effect she had on other people, especially of the male species.

Since Hope and Chekov were closer in age, and Kirk was rather fond of the young Russian, he asked Chekov to show her to her quarters, exchanging an amused smile with Uhura, as Chekov beamed at him and eagerly led Dr. Hope to the turbolift.

********************

Pavel Chekov couldn’t believe his luck. Dr. Hope was by far the most attractive woman ever to come aboard the Enterprise. She was so beautiful and gracious, it took his breath away. He’d known he was in love the moment the lift doors had opened and this ethereal creature had stepped onto the bridge. And now he’d been given the chance to be the first of the crew to get to know her better.

Don’t spoil your chances, Pavel! he thought. Think of something deep and meaningful to say. Make a good first impression!

But somehow, his mind went completely blank. He couldn’t think of a single meaningful sentence. Luckily Dr. Hope came to the rescue and started a conversation.

“How exciting to be working on the bridge of the Enterprise!” she enthused. “I really envy you, Mr. Chekov.”

“Oh yes, I feel very privileged that Captain Kirk wants me on the bridge for Alpha shift. And call me Pavel, please, Dr. Hope.”

“Only if you’ll call me Jenny,” she smiled, offering her hand to him. “Pleased to meet you, Pavel.”

Pleased is an understatement, Chekov thought happily.

They arrived at her quarters way too soon for his liking. So, when she stepped inside, thanking him for accompanying her, he spontaneously offered to take her to dinner after his shift, which she accepted gratefully.

“I’d like that very much, Pavel. You can tell me all about the Enterprise and her crew. I found Mr. Spock very intriguing, for example. He must be brilliant.”

“Oh yes, he is. He’s one of a kind. But there are many interesting people aboard the Enterprise. It’s a great crew!”

And with a happy smile on his face, Chekov headed back to the turbolift to resume his duty on the bridge. He was so caught up in the pleasant anticipation of his dinner date, that he didn’t even notice the amused grins his fellow officers exchanged.

*********************

After Chekov had left, and the doors had closed behind her, Jenny surveyed her quarters and found her bags already waiting in a corner. As she started to unpack, she let her mind drift back to the events of the past couple of hours. She’d been so nervous about beaming aboard this legendary ship and had been utterly shocked to find the captain himself waiting for her and even showing her around the ship personally.

The famous Captain Kirk was even more impressive in person. Charming and very good-looking, too. And after having overcome her initial star-struck timidity, she’d really enjoyed his company. He was pleasant and witty, and she liked how very proud of his ship and crew he was.

Everybody had been so welcoming, Jenny thought relieved. She’d especially liked Nyota Uhura and was looking forward to working with her, expecting to have a lot in common with the lovely communications officer.

And she was also looking forward to spending more time with Pavel Chekov. He was sweet and fun and easy to talk to. And, of course, she had to admit that it was nice to have someone have a crush on her.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 4  

That evening, over dinner in the mess, the captain eagerly told his CMO all about his first encounter with Dr. Hope. How she had surprised him and Scotty with her appearance. How he’d taken to her immediately, just like everybody else aboard.

“She’s a fascinating young woman, Bones,” he enthused. “Unlike anyone I’ve ever met. There’s something exotic about her. And although she’s a graduated PhD, she’s so natural and girl-like, almost a bit shy. You'll like her too!"

"Sure,” McCoy countered, grinning wryly at his friend, “a girl who fascinates you, simply has to be extraordinary."

The captain chuckled softly to himself, remembering Scotty’s tongue-tied reaction, and how he’d had to save his usually chatty chief engineer from having to say anything meaningful.

"You don't have to believe me, Bones, but don't say I didn't warn you!" Kirk wagged a finger at him.

Tired after a long operation, McCoy was in a rather grouchy mood.

"Listen, Jim, Dr. Hope may be nice, and she’s obviously bright, or she wouldn't have her PhD at that young age, but why the hell do they send us another linguist, when I'm desperately in need of more medical staff…"

"I wouldn't mind working in the medical department, Doctor!" an amused voice cut in.

Dr. Hope had been passing by their table in Chekov’s company just in time to hear the doctor’s last statement.

McCoy spun around, deeply embarrassed, only to be even more taken aback when he saw the girl who the voice belonged to. For once, it seemed, Jim hadn’t exaggerated. Taking in the sweet smile, that lit up her whole face, and the big, dark eyes, twinkling at him mirthfully, he thought there really was something exotic about her. Something different. Her crisp, slightly dated accent, of course, adding to the effect.

Kirk gave his friend a broad grin.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" he hissed at the captain.

"I did!" Kirk smirked.

McCoy apologised profusely, using all his Southern charm, and introduced himself to Dr. Hope with a gallant little bow and the hint at a kiss on the hand, at which Kirk had to suppress a snigger.  

“Please don’t mind me, Dr. Hope,” he said again, “I’m just a crabby old country doctor, grouching about Starfleet. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Don’t worry, Dr. McCoy,” Dr. Hope laughed good-naturedly, gently extracting her hand from his, “I’m not that easily offended.”

After she’d reassured the embarrassed CMO, whom she found very refreshing and who, she sensed, was quite a gentle man underneath his grumpy façade, Dr. Hope told the captain that she’d meant what she’d just said.

“Unless there is some linguistic emergency that requires my immediate attention,” she chuckled, “I’d rather be appointed to where I can really be of use.”

Turning towards McCoy, she continued, “Unfortunately, I don’t have more than basic medical training, but I can imagine there are enough simple tasks to be carried out in sickbay? And, of course, I’d do my very best to become more efficient quickly.”

Kirk looked questioningly at McCoy, who seemed rather pleased by the idea.

“Want to give it a try, Doctor?”

"I could really need a hand in sickbay. We still have so many patients from our last adventure." He put a lot of emphasis on the last word, glancing somewhat reproachfully at Kirk. "And I'm sure, our patients wouldn’t object to a lovely face down there."

McCoy smiled when he saw Dr. Hope blush endearingly at the compliment. Although extremely pretty, she seemed unused to receiving compliments.

"Could you start right away, say tomorrow morning?” he asked in his most charming Southern drawl, still trying to make up for his earlier rudeness. “You can meet me in sickbay at 0800 hours, and I'll show you around."

"Why not start today?” she smiled. “You said you could use a hand down there, and I'm not particularly busy at the moment. In fact, there's nothing else for me to do."

Unlike Chekov, who just couldn’t believe what was happening, McCoy was impressed by Dr. Hope’s eagerness.

If only more people were like that.

"Are you sure?” he made certain, and when she nodded, went on, “Well then, what are we waiting for? Let's go! If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen?"

And with that, he gallantly held out his arm for her and led Dr. Hope towards the exit, leaving behind an amused Kirk and a crestfallen Chekov.

********************

It only took one look for Kirk to see the monumental disappointment written all over Chekov’s face.

“Cheer up, Chekov! You’ve already had dinner with her. Now let someone else enjoy the pleasure of her company for a while. It’s only her first day, you’ll see enough of her in the months to come.”

“If you say so, Captain,” Chekov replied miserably.

Kirk took pity on him and, sitting back down at the table, motioned for Chekov to join him, just as a curious Sulu and Uhura ambled by, eagerly accepting the captain’s invitation to join them as well.

“So, Pavel, what’s she like? Is she as lovely as she looks?” Uhura blurted out before she had even sat down. “I so wanted to join you for dinner, but Sulu here wouldn’t let me,” she added with a reproachful glance at the helmsman.

Kirk winked approvingly at Sulu, who gave a resigned shrug and chuckled, “I had to physically keep her away, you can thank me later, Pavel.”

Chekov shot Sulu a grateful look, his eyes taking on a misty shine as he realised that, if he couldn’t be with Jenny, talking about her was the next best thing.

“She is adorable,” he gushed, “and so beautiful. And she knows so much about Russian history!”

Kirk, Sulu and Uhura snorted as one.

“What?” Chekov asked indignantly. “Didn’t you know that knowledge of Russian history is the best indicator of someone’s sophistication?”

But when the others looked at him incredulously, he couldn’t suppress a guffaw that gave him away.

“Seriously, though. She’s a pleasure to be with. If she’d ask me to marry her today, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

This time there was no telling grin on his face, only a faraway look, that left the others guessing as to whether he was making fun of them again or was, in fact, serious.

“I’ve only really said hello to her, so far,” Uhura chipped in, “but she’s so warm and lovely, she’s promising girl-friend material. I’m really looking forward to getting to know her better.”

“Same here,” said Sulu. He’d found her nice enough, even though he wasn’t as smitten with her as his navigator friend quite obviously was.

“Not girl-friend material in my case, of course!” he added quickly as an afterthought, just to be on the safe side with Chekov.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 5  

McCoy and his new protégé were headed to sickbay. The doctor’s shift had actually ended more than an hour ago, but who was he to refuse an eager young lady to start working. And funnily enough, his tiredness had magically vanished minutes ago.

Although Dr. Hope was trying hard not to let it show, McCoy was well aware of her nervousness. He’d let go of her arm as soon as they’d left the mess, sensing that she was not really comfortable with this level of intimacy yet. He respected that.

It was quite natural, of course, that she should feel uneasy at the prospect of entirely new work in unfamiliar surroundings. In fact, her professionalism was exemplary for someone her age. He had to give her credit for that.

To make her feel at ease, McCoy involved her in some friendly small talk, and as they made their way through the corridors, he could see her gradually relax. By the time they arrived in sickbay, she’d lost her reserve, yet didn't display exaggerated self-confidence, either. She was simply acting natural, which he found very agreeable. Apparently, she needed to get to know someone a little better before opening up. McCoy could relate to that. Being a rather private person himself, he disapproved of people who told the most intimate things to any stranger they came across.

After the doctor had shown Dr. Hope around, introducing her to the few staff on nightshift and the patients who weren’t asleep, he started to explain some basic instruments. Her quickness of mind and keen interest to learn something out of her usual area of expertise were impressive, her determination to do everything just right almost palpable. A girl right after his own heart – efficient, meticulous and reliable. And delightful to watch.

While she was focused on adjusting and readjusting a medical tricorder over and over again to get the hang of it, McCoy had the chance to study her a little more closely. She was good-looking, no doubt, but not in a groomed way. No, her pretty features, although certainly part of her appeal, were not what really made her beautiful. That had more to do with her personality. The warmth she radiated. That catching vivacity.

McCoy was definitely not averse to beauty, he’d met many beautiful women over the years, but at the end of the day, a pretty face was just that: a pretty face.

With Dr. Hope, it was the little things that stuck out. Like the dimples that worked their way up and down her cheeks as she was completely engrossed in her task, or the soft smile, her lips pursed in a little pout in concentration. Her animated movements were gracious and precise. And of course, there was the way she looked at him with those big bright eyes, when he explained something. Eyes like those of a child, eager to learn. And so much warmth in them, too. They seemed to reflect all her emotions. One just could not but like this girl.

He looked around and saw that his patients had perked up, too, since he’d brought Dr. Hope here. She seemed to have a way of spreading cheerfulness, a gift that would come in handy working in sickbay.

When McCoy looked at the time, he found that almost three hours had passed. He’d enjoyed Dr. Hope’s company so much, he’d completely lost track of time.

“I think it’s time, we called it a night, Dr. Hope,” he said, suppressing a yawn. “You’ll want to get some sleep before starting your first proper workday in sickbay.”

“Of course, Doctor, I’m sorry!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to keep you so long. I was just so excited to learn something new and wanted to be prepared as well as possible for tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he smiled. “It was my pleasure to show you the ropes. Before I can let you start working, however, we’ll have to do your required medical check-up first thing tomorrow morning. Think you can be here early? By 7.30?”

“Certainly, Doctor, I’ll be here.”

“Excellent,” he beamed. “Go get some rest now, I’ll just finish up here.”

“Thank you, Doctor, and good night!”

“Good night, my dear,” McCoy said. And just before she was out the door, he called out, “And sweet dreams! You know how it’s very important what you dream the first night in a new bed?”

“I know, Doctor,” she chuckled, “I wouldn’t have taken you for the superstitious kind, though. Anyway, I’ll try my best to dream something nice.”

“I’m not superstitious,” McCoy muttered to himself when the door had swished shut behind her, “not very, anyway. But a little banter is always good to break the ice.”

And with a satisfied grin, he made for his office to get everything ready for the next morning.

********************

Jenny was lying in bed, looking back on the day’s events, hardly believing that she was really aboard the legendary Enterprise now. Everybody had been so warm and welcoming, she’d felt none of the rejection she’d been afraid of as a consequence of Admiral Dakunia’s pulling strings for her.

She was a little annoyed with herself, though. She’d vowed to make a good first impression, to stay calm and professional. But instead, Jenny feared, she’d come across more like an overzealous child, eager to please.

Maybe offering to help out in sickbay unprompted had been a little too forward? But then again, her wanting to work where she was needed had been the truth. And the doctor had seemed pleased. He’d been very charming and patient with her, and quite fun to be around really, once you got over his surliness. And she’d really enjoyed learning something new. She’d always loved a challenge.

Anyway, she’d be more careful to stick to Starfleet protocol in the future and try to behave according to her rank - or non-rank, as it was. Even though the atmosphere aboard seemed much more relaxed and unmilitary than she’d expected. What made her really nervous, however, was the thought of her physical the next day. Kind as the doctor was, he didn’t miss a thing. She’d felt him scrutinising her while she’d been figuring out the medical tricorder. He’d ask questions. She’d have to be on guard.

********************

McCoy was sitting in his office, stifling another yawn. With everything going on in sickbay, he hadn’t yet had time to go through Dr. Hope’s medical file. But with her upcoming physical in the morning, he had to catch up on that quickly, no matter how tired he was.

Before he pulled the file up on his screen, however, he wanted to make his own assessment based on his first impression and observations, as he usually did with new crewmembers. He liked to form his own opinion before being influenced by a file.

Dr. Hope, he mused, was a curious blend of highly professional academic and inquisitive little girl. Thinking about the way she wanted to know everything, and her eyes that moved around restlessly, as if afraid to miss anything, he shook his head, considering that this girl was already a graduated academic.

And yet, she also had an air of authority about her that wouldn’t let him question anything she said within her field of expertise. Her vast knowledge of so many things and the perceptive questions she’d asked that evening were impressive. It was fascinating - Did I just use that word? -  how confidence and shyness were united in one and the same person. How she aroused both admiration and protective feelings in him at the same time.

Alright, enough of that, he thought to himself. His mind was drifting, he really had to get some sleep.

Curious as to what ‘minor health issues’ he would find, he started reading through the file. He’d watched out for clues all evening, but all he’d seen was a healthy and happy young woman.

Shorter than average – right, no surprise there, a little too light – o.k., quite obvious, too, Dr. Hope had what the file called ‘genetically induced osteoporosis’ – now that sounded intriguing. Apart from that, the file listed ‘nystagmus’ – so that explained the restless eyes, and ‘congenital pelvic obliquity’. All of the conditions could be compensated medicinally or therapeutically but needed constant monitoring. And her bones would probably take longer to heal once broken or damaged.

Right, that would make for an interesting check-up tomorrow. Who the hell had those medical issues in this time and day? What had her parents been thinking?

And feeling a little sorry for her, he closed the file and left for the comfort of his quarters to get as much rest as he could before another busy day in sickbay.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 6

Dr. Hope arrived in sickbay at 7.30 on the dot the next morning. Not that he’d have expected any different from her.

“Good morning, Dr. Hope!” McCoy greeted her cheerfully. “I hope you slept well. So, tell me, did you dream something nice?”

“Good morning, Doctor,” she sounded amused. “Thank you for asking. Yes, I had a very good night. But, honestly, I have no idea what I dreamed. I guess I’ll just have to hope for the best. To think I might just have ruined my life and wouldn’t even know about it,” she added in mock horror.

“Whatever it was,” he chuckled, “I’m pretty sure it won’t ruin your life. First day aboard and all. Took it out of you, didn’t it?”

“It would seem so,” she admitted. “But I feel very rested and ready for anything now.”

“That’s good. Let’s get started, then. Hop on the biobed for me, will you?”

Dr. Hope obliged with an elegant leap, making McCoy laugh as he began his examination.

The moment she was sitting in front of him, however, the sassy officer-to-be was gone, and in her place sat this timid girl, nervously watching him run his tricorder over her body. Almost as if she were afraid he would find something seriously wrong with her. Although, knowing her medical file, it was not really surprising that she was a little apprehensive.

Her sudden transformation tugged at his heart as much as it intrigued him. He’d have to be extra gentle to coax her out of her shell again, maybe make this examination a little more touchy-feely. A gentle touch was sometimes all it took to gain a patient’s trust.

So, putting aside his tricorder, he took an old-fashioned tongue depressor to check her throat and tonsils, and put a gentle hand under her chin, softly tilting her face up a little. When he felt her almost imperceptibly lean into his touch, he lightly caressed her cheek with his thumb and saw her briefly close her eyes while the softest sigh escaped her lips.

Most people probably wouldn’t even have noticed, but McCoy was a close observer and rather good at reading people. It had only been the most fleeting moment of tenderness, but it had done the trick. Dr. Hope started to relax and revert to her confident self.

The little touch, however, had told him something about her a tricorder never could have.

For all her sass and cheerfulness, and seeming to make friends so easily, he thought, this girl is really touch-starved.

Unexpectedly moved by the realisation, he made a mental note to try and find ways to give her a little of the human touch she so obviously craved, without being obvious or indecent. Like an occasional hand on the shoulder when they talked, maybe.

McCoy continued her check-up as gently as he could, talking to her so kindly and respectfully that she finally opened up to him completely, the last of her bashfulness dissolving. Charming and cheerful again, she lifted his spirits just by smiling at him. And the trusting look in her eyes, when she gazed up at him as she diligently answered his questions, went under his skin.

If he’d been intrigued by her medical file the night before, he was even more surprised now that he saw what excellent physical shape she was in. Some things just didn't fit. Her heart was strong, her stamina admirable. And, taking into account her short size and underweight, she showed considerable strength.

"Ever had problems with your bones?" he asked casually, while she was pushing the pedals for her exercise ECG.

It was odd, she had the body, looks and energy of a twenty-year-old, yet his instruments confirmed what was written in her file, namely that her bones were brittle like a much older woman's.

"No, Doctor, not at all. But then, I've never broken anything so far."

"And your hip? Does it bother you?"

He didn't mention his surprise when he'd found out that such a simple thing as a scoliotic pelvis had not been fixed prenatally. It wasn't her fault, of course, but obviously her parents’ negligence. So, he’d decided to save her the embarrassment and not comment on it.

"Only sometimes, when I overdo my yoga or lug something really heavy around. But not too badly. I generally don't notice it at all."

"Good," he concluded, smiling reassuringly at her. "You're fit as a fiddle. Let's just check out those lovely eyes of yours, and then we're done."

And with a strange sense of protective tenderness for this strong, yet so delicate young woman, he gently lifted her face to check the nystagmus in her eyes. A very rare condition, and again something that could have easily been taken care of prenatally. If he thought about it too hard, he could definitely get angry with her parents for inflicting such unnecessary trouble on their child.

Dr. Hope compliantly opened her eyes wide for him, and he had to fight an extremely unprofessional urge to caress her cheek again, as he gently touched her face to tilt her head the way he needed it for the examination.

"Do your eyes give you trouble?" he asked softly, trying hard to keep any emotion out of his voice.

"I only ever notice the trembling at all when I'm very nervous, extremely tired or dizzy. But even then, I get it quickly under control with the appropriate medication."

"Right," he said kindly, smiling as he detected the slightest tremor in her eyes, "you’re definitely not tired or dizzy at the moment, and there's certainly no reason for you to feel nervous."

McCoy tried to sound reassuring. It was sweet how nervous her first physical seemed to make her. He just couldn't help it, he wanted to make her feel cared for.

Probably, because she reminded him a little of his daughter, Joanna, who was still in nursing school. A few years older than Joanna, but the same clever and feisty bundle of energy. And just as warm-hearted and lovable.

Since he’d have to monitor her health closely, and now that she was even working in his department, he would keep an eye on her. He felt strangely compelled to make sure she was alright. And he wished, someone would watch over Joanna in the same way, when he couldn't be there for her.

********************

After her check-up, the day had passed in a blur. There'd been lots to do in sickbay, and Jenny had met nurse Chapel, with whom she'd hit it off right away, and who'd taught her all she needed to know when Dr. McCoy had been busy elsewhere.

The doctor had insisted on her taking a lunch break, and she’d had a nice chat with Chekov over a sandwich and coffee. She’d felt bad about ditching him so unceremoniously the evening before, and had apologised. Luckily, he’d seemed to understand that everything was just so new and exciting for her.

They’d discovered that they were both passionate dancers and shared a love of old-style ballroom dancing from Foxtrot to Salsa to Rock’n’Roll. Jenny had suggested meeting up for training sessions, and Chekov had eagerly agreed. She hadn’t had the chance to dance in ages and was immensely looking forward to it, hoping that Chekov was as good a dancer as he was ardent about it.

Just before the end of her shift, Dr. McCoy took her aside for a little debriefing, mainly wanting to know, if she still wanted to work in sickbay, now that she had a better idea of what she was getting into.

“So, how was your first day, Dr. Hope?” he smiled, motioning for her to sit down while he perched on the edge of his desk.

“Busy, interesting, exciting, what more can I say?” she gushed and saw the corners of his mouth twitching at her enthusiasm, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

“And are you really sure you want to do this? That you’re alright with it?”

“Did I do something wrong?” she blurted out, suddenly uneasy.

“No, no, not at all!” he laughed. “You’ve been a great help. I was just wondering. I mean, it’ll be mainly hands-on work for you, not much scientific about it. Wouldn’t you rather work in your own field after all?”

"Not at all, doctor," she assured him, "I'd much rather be where I am needed. At the moment, I’m just doing a little research, I can do that when I’m off-duty. Besides, I love working with people."

And I rather like being around you, she added in her head, surprising herself and pushing the thought to the back of her mind for later inspection.

It was only a few days afterwards, when she was lying in bed, exhausted, yet exhilarated from her great and exciting first week aboard the Enterprise, that she remembered.

I rather like being around you.

It was true, she realised. She enjoyed being around the doctor. Even though she’d found his harsh and grumpy manner a little scary in the beginning. There was a warmth to his smile and a kindness in his eyes that made her feel at ease in his presence. He seemed to be well liked by all the crew, and she admired his rather unique bedside manner as well as his sense of humour.

Lovely as everyone else she'd met so far was, Dr. McCoy was different, in an endearing way. Fun, smart, easy to talk to. Not your typical Starfleet officer. He was very outspoken, wearing his heart on his sleeve, his sharp wit sometimes bordering on the offending, but basically good-natured. Highly perceptive and very kind, too. He tried to hide it for some reason, but underneath his crusty shell Jenny had already seen glimpses of the gentlest soul. Caring, compassionate and fiercely protective of his friends and patients.

Being around him made her feel ... safe. Yes, safe and secure in a way she hadn't felt in a very long time. And she liked it immensely. Maybe it was him being a doctor. Or a little older. Or both. The gentle manner in which he'd conducted her check-up, asking questions to the point, but never prying, respecting her privacy, had been so very ... reassuring. Yes, that was the word she'd been looking for. Reassuring. He had this warm and reassuring presence.

She knew, of course, that she had an embarrassingly strong need to feel safe and cared for, though probably quite understandable in her circumstances. And he was just what she needed. The way he stood close to her while explaining displays and readouts, always a protective hand on her shoulder or back.

Silly! She shook her head angrily. You're not a little girl anymore.

She was a grown-up woman. Strong and independent. An expert in her field. At the beginning of her career. She definitely didn't long for a protector.

And yet, the memory of his gentle fingers under her chin, carefully tilting up her face in order to examine her eyes, sent a rush of warmth from her stomach up to her chest. Those intense, blue eyes that didn't miss a thing, so kindly searching her brown ones, seeming to look right into her soul, but really just investigating her nystagmus, had nearly undone her. Kindness always did. She was pathetic.

Cringing with embarrassment, she remembered how she'd hardly been able to fight the urge to lean into his hand, when he'd so tenderly touched her cheek. If he'd noticed at all, he hadn't reacted or commented, for which she was very grateful.

Promising herself to be more professional in the future, she let herself look forward to the upcoming weeks and months immensely. She'd make the most of having the opportunity to work for Dr. McCoy. And she would enjoy being around him while still being her professional self. He was certainly a man she could learn a lot from. A patient and devoted teacher, if you worked diligently and gave 200%, but surely grim and unforgiving, if you made careless or negligent mistakes.  

********************

Kirk had McCoy join him for a drink in his quarters that evening.

“I haven’t seen you all week, Bones! Since you left with Dr. Hope the other evening, actually,” Kirk grinned. “Is she giving you a run for your credits?”

McCoy chuckled good-naturedly, accepting a glass of bourbon from his friend and holding it to his lips.

“To keen and hard-working linguists!” he toasted, before taking an appreciative sip and making himself comfortable on Kirk’s couch.

“To think that only a week ago,” he grinned at Kirk, “we were sitting here hopping mad about ‘this girl’ coming aboard.”

“I was hopping mad,” Kirk corrected, “you were your usual calm self.”

McCoy gave a snort at Kirk’s remark.

“Well, maybe you did let it show more that time,” he conceded. “But anyway, you were totally right about her. After you’d met her, I mean,” he quickly clarified.

“You don’t mean to tell me, Bones, that a girl that – and I quote – ‘fascinates me simply has to be extraordinary’ after all?” he asked with a mock-appalled expression.

“At least I can admit when I’m wrong, Jim,” McCoy grumbled, taking another sip.

“And, yes, she is extraordinary. A quick study, prepared to do any stupid chore you throw at her and give it her best, and,” he looked at Kirk going for the clincher, “she hit it right off with Christine.”

“That’s something,” Kirk nodded impressed. “Your head nurse can be quite a tough one to get to know. I was terrified of her for a long time, and I’m her captain.”

McCoy had to laugh at that. He remembered it well.

“What can I say, Jim?” the doctor went on, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat. “She’s delightful to have around. A red whirlwind amongst the calm blues of sickbay. You can tell Uhura that I’m not planning on returning her to communications anytime soon. Even my patients are perking up. At this rate, she’ll turn sickbay into the most cheerful place on the Enterprise in no time.”

Kirk studied his friend closely.

“Is it possible, Bones, that she has you under her spell just like every other crew member aboard?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “You sure sound a lot like Chekov. The boy couldn’t stop talking about her on the bridge the whole week.”

“Ah, speaking of Chekov,” McCoy chuckled, glad to steer the conversation away from himself, “poor boy comes looking for her at lunchtime almost every day. You should see his face when she doesn’t even take notice of him for the longest time, all caught up in some sorting or cleaning. I usually take pity on him and send her on her lunch break with him. I swear, he wouldn’t be more grateful if I cured him of a terminal disease.”

Kirk laughed at that.

“Yeah, he’s totally smitten. Hope it works out for them – I wouldn’t want to see him getting his heart broken.”

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 7

Dr. Hope’s second week in sickbay was no less exciting than her first one had been.

Having proven herself a quick learner, McCoy let her assist him with treating minor wounds. The usual things, scratches, cuts, sprained ankles, and the like. And knowing her eagerness to learn as much as she could, he always gave her as thorough an explanation as time would allow.

Halfway into the week, he was just elaborating on the barbarous methods former surgeons often had to apply, without any sign of warning, she suddenly collapsed. One moment she asked questions and the next she passed out.

Taken completely by surprise, McCoy was barely in time to catch her before she hit the floor, then gently lifted the unconscious girl in his arms and carried her to a biobed, where he administered a hypo.

Hope felt sick and weak when she regained consciousness and tried to get up. The doctor gently pushed her back down, and, smiling kindly at her pale face, took her hand to feel her pulse.

"You gave me quite a shock there, young lady! You should have told me before," he admonished mildly.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, I had no idea it would happen again."

"Again?" He looked at her sternly, concern showing in his eyes.

"I mean, it has happened to me as a child on similar occasions,” she explained quietly.

"Maybe you’re not exactly cut out for work in sickbay after all?” He frowned a little.

"No, it's not that at all,” she was quick to assure him. “In fact, I don't mind seeing things like that, it was just your detailed description that had my autonomic nervous system run riot."

McCoy lifted an amused eyebrow, then smiled at her reassuringly.

"All right,” he squeezed her hand gently, “we’ll give it another go. No detailed descriptions next time."

Then he softly brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead and put a comforting hand on her arm.

"But for now, you remain here, on this bed. Just a little longer, to be safe!"

********************

Turning away after she’d closed her eyes again, he thought how fragile Dr. Hope looked, lying on that bed, her face drawn and pale, so vulnerable underneath all her sass. Seeing her like this reminded him of a child forced into the part of a strong and competent woman, triggering every protective instinct in him.

He knew, of course, that he was rather susceptible to vulnerability. Always wanting to protect everyone. It was his caring nature that had driven him to go into medicine in the first place. But it had not always served him well in the past. That’s why he tried to hide it behind a thick layer of grumpiness. Why he’d been successfully building up this cranky curmudgeon reputation over the years.

But Hope was different. Not like the people who’d taken advantage of him over the years. She was not playing the helpless-damsel-in-distress card to get attention or manipulate people. Quite the contrary. There was a genuine vulnerability to her which she desperately tried to hide.

Once more, he felt this urge to make her feel safe and cared for. And he had a feeling that, at the moment, she did.

********************

Laughter roused McCoy from his reverie. He looked around and found that, despite his warning, Dr. Hope had already got up and was entertaining his patients again.

In practically no time, she’d become everybody's darling. She seemed to be happy all the time, forever smiling. He’d only known her for a little over a week, and yet he’d somehow already become used to having her around, was, in fact, already finding it hard to imagine sickbay without her.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 8

McCoy was nursing a coffee in his office, enjoying the quiet and solitude after one of the more hectic days in sickbay.

He still had some reports to file, but couldn’t bring himself to start on it just yet. Instead, he let his mind wander and wasn’t overly surprised when it conjured up Hope’s cheerful face. Thinking of her always had an exhilarating effect on him.

Dr. Hope’s first month aboard the Enterprise had gone by in a flash, and McCoy was more than impressed with her work. She’d always be there to help him and his team, seeming to know exactly who needed a hand. Forever preparing and cleaning whatever they needed.

And she had turned out a real asset in crisis, too. Fully focused and thinking on her feet, she was quick to react to every order he shouted out.

But whenever she had time to spare, she would wander the rooms of sickbay and cheer up the patients.

Joking with those who were complaining about having to wait too long, pointing out to them how fortunate they really were as opposed to real emergencies being rushed in and treated right away.

Soothing and cheering up the more seriously ill or injured, who had to stay in sickbay longer. Always seeming to sense, if they wanted their minds taken off their worries and fears, or if they needed to talk about what had happened to them and why.

He just couldn't get enough of watching her interact with his patients. Wherever she went, it was as if the sun had been turned on.

A warm feeling took hold of him at this thought, and he remembered fondly how even Mr. Spock, in his capacity as First Officer, had, very matter-of-factly, once or twice commented on how crew morale in general had been raised since the arrival of Dr. Hope and her many contributions to recreational activities.

Christine and Hope got along really well, too, and McCoy was more than glad about it. He’d been a little worried that Christine might somehow see Hope, even medically untrained as she was, as competition. But Hope had made it clear from the start that her expertise lay in a completely different field and that she was more than happy to follow McCoy's and Chapel's orders unquestioningly.

The two women also shared a shrewd sense of humour, not unlike McCoy's own. He enjoyed listening to their chatter, often teasing each other - and even more often him, which he didn't mind, since it was always good-humoured and respectful. And highly entertaining to everyone in sickbay.

The whole atmosphere had changed, and sickbay had turned into a warm and cheerful place. Just as he’d predicted to Jim. Visits to injured friends had become enjoyable events, and quite often people would just stop by for a chat or for some advice from Hope.

Word had got around that Hope was an exceptionally good and patient listener, and in only a couple of weeks she had turned into the ship's unofficial "agony aunt", always there for those seeking comfort or advice.

At first, McCoy had tried to listen in on their conversations, concerned that she might give unsound advice, not having had any psychological training. But he soon realised that, in fact, she didn't give any advice at all. She just listened and asked the right questions. Only in practical matters, or, sometimes, matters of the heart, did she voice an opinion of her own.

She was amazing all around, there was no other way to put it. And McCoy did not miss a chance to point this out to his friends, who, of course, didn’t stop teasing him about it. Even Spock, that hypocrite, had come up with some snide remark the other day, although McCoy could have sworn that the Vulcan’s eyes shone a little brighter, too, whenever Hope was around.

Heaving a sigh, McCoy put his coffee and all thoughts of Hope aside, and got on with his work.

********************

Exhausted after a rather stressful day in sickbay, Jenny found that she couldn’t sleep. She’d tried yoga and a meditation tape, but hadn’t been able to unwind.

So she just lay there, letting her mind drift.

She’d been amazed by how quickly she’d settled in, enjoying every moment aboard the Enterprise. She’d made new friends every day and had yet to come across a crew member she didn’t get along with.

Her most pleasant surprise, however, had been to discover the many artistic talents of her crew mates, ranging from music to painting to dancing. Painting, sadly, was not one of her gifts, but there were drama groups, all kinds of choirs and musical bands, yoga and dancing ensembles. It was paradise.

When she’d started her old-school dancing sessions with Chekov, they’d soon found themselves surrounded by people who wanted to join in and learn from them.

Chekov had turned out a great friend and dancing partner, indeed, although it wasn’t always easy to keep him in check, his infatuation with her sometimes getting the better of him. She tried hard not to lead him on, emphasising that they’d never be more than friends at every opportunity she got. But every time she thought he’d understood, he’d look at her with his puppy eyes, and she knew they still had a long way to go.

Fortunately, that was not a problem with Sulu, whose kind offer to help her improve her combat skills she’d gratefully accepted, or Mr. Scott, whose endless enthusiasm for engineering was contagious and a great way for her to get a better understanding of the latest technological developments. Even less, of course, with Mr. Spock, whose frank, yet polite logic she’d come to appreciate, and with whom she’d already had a number of very enjoyable philosophical conversations on ethics and human emotions.

Her closest friend, right from the word go, however, had been Uhura. The two women had soon found out that they had far more in common than just their love for linguistics, and consequently spent a lot of their free time together.

Jenny’s first love, ranking even above dancing, was music. So she and Uhura, together with some lads from engineering, had started a new band focussing mostly on classic terran rock music, intended for others to dance to. It was a great success, more and more people attending their gigs every time, so now, they filled the grand assembly hall on a regular basis.

Between her work in sickbay, her research, and all her recreational activities, she hardly found time to sleep, and she loved it. Loved her life on the Enterprise. Loved how so many people seemed to enjoy spending time with her. And talk to her.

She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but she seemed to have gained a reputation of being a good adviser. Even people she hadn’t really met before turned up in sickbay, asking to talk to her. And even though she couldn’t give actual advice – she had no training as a counsellor after all – she was happy to see that most of them left feeling clearer about whatever had bothered them. All they obviously needed was someone who’d listen and help them rearrange their thoughts.

Sometimes, Jenny caught Dr. McCoy watching her when she talked to patients, clearly checking up on her. And at first that had made her a little uneasy. But when, after a while, she realised that he actually liked what he saw, she started to enjoy his attention. Seeing him standing in the doorway or leaning against the bulkhead, arms crossed and smiling encouragingly, made her feel strangely proud.

Mmmh. Dr. McCoy.

The calm voice in the midst of a frantic battlefield.  She had to admit that what really soothed her and helped her to unwind was thinking about the CMO.

She’d felt comfortable around him right from the start, soaking up his kindness, every little touch of his gentle hands.

Of course, she’d heard about him even before she’d come aboard. There were a lot of stories about the legendary crew of the Enterprise going around at the Academy. And Dr. McCoy with his extraordinary medical skills was no exception.

But when she’d met him in person, she’d somehow not really been able to reconcile the tall tales with this humble, unassuming man. Not until a couple of weeks into her assignment, when disaster struck - and she’d seen him in full action for the first time. That’s when she’d found out how truly admirable he was.

The way he’d taken charge, when a battered landing party had beamed back aboard after a mission gone terribly wrong, not a second’s hesitation, radiating absolute confidence, calmly delegating tasks and keeping track of everyone and everything as he steadily worked to keep everyone alive, was incredible and had sparked an unfailing faith in him and his skills.

Only after every single patient had been minutely tended to and had either already left sickbay again or was at least safely recovering, had the doctor let on how worn out he was, and she’d felt infinitely safe at his side ever since, as if nothing could harm her as long as he was around.

Jenny had worked with him through a few similar, if less dramatic, situations since, and never got tired of watching the normally often fretful and worried doctor turn into this confident and unflappable superhero.

She was really grateful he’d given her a second chance after that embarrassing fainting incident at the beginning of her ‘career’ in sickbay. He hadn’t even been angry at the time, only concerned.

What a shame, she’d been unconscious when he’d carried her to the biobed! But she clearly remembered how his hand on her forehead had felt, when he’d so tenderly brushed her hair from her face afterwards. Firm but ever so gentle. Like you'd expect from a surgeon, of course, but she’d still savoured the feeling on her forehead.

Pathetic? Sure, but then, no one ever touched her tenderly like that these days. Even if the doctor had just done it in the line of duty. But then again, he hadn’t had to, had he? It had just been a comforting gesture, not a medical treatment. Just him being the kind man that he was.

Mmmh.

She closed her eyes and relaxed into the memory of his reassuring touch, softly stroking her forehead and running his fingers through her hair. Calming her. Comforting her. Until she finally succumbed to her tiredness and fell into deep, untroubled sleep.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 9  

Scotty was cleaning up his desk in engineering, smiling at the memory of Dr. Hope’s eagerness. She’d just spent an hour of her free time with him and his lads, replacing a combusted tube and happily getting her hands dirty in the process. She looked adorable in overalls, but the lads had quickly learned to pay more attention to her questions than her looks.

When he’d finished clearing his office from unnecessary bits and pieces that had been lying around, he made for the mess, where McCoy was probably already waiting for him.

He hadn’t had a chance to catch up with his friend for some time. The past few weeks had been rather busy, what with the captain getting them into seemingly more trouble than usual and Hope and her insatiable curiosity about all things technical taking up a big chunk of his free time.

Not that he was complaining, of course, he greatly enjoyed sharing his knowledge of engineering with this inquisitive and delightful young lass, and showing off his well-trained staff.

********************

As it turned out, the doctor had been delayed in sickbay, too, and by the time McCoy turned up, Scotty had already got them both drinks and a little snack.

“So, you bagged the lovely lass for sickbay?” Scotty was looking enviously at the doctor over his glass. “Ach, I should’ve recruited her right off the transporter. But then, I didn’t know the linguist was available for retraining, did I?” he added almost reproachfully.

“Well, now and again I happen to be at the right place at the right time,” the doctor grinned at his friend.

“Aye! And I heard how charmingly you welcomed her, too,” Scotty chuckled. “Miracle she even considered working for you.”

“Ah, Scotty, you know me. Charm impersonated.”

“Don’t I know it, laddie!” the Engineer grumbled good-naturedly.

“But you’ve got no reason to complain, really, do you?” McCoy demanded. “I hear she spends quite a lot of her free time in engineering, listening to you droning on and on about your engines. Probably helps her go to sleep at night.”

“Ach, now you’re jealous she doesn’t spend her free time with you as well? But yes, she completely gets what’s so fascinating about engineering. Has a brilliant mind, that one. Even borrowed some of my technical journals. Nothing more attractive than a lass with a knack for technology.”

McCoy raised an amused eyebrow and took another sip of his drink.

“What’s she doing now, anyway, that she’s not with either of us?”

“Probably off dancing with young Chekov. Poor lad is completely smitten with her.”

McCoy nodded knowingly at that.

“Or making music with Uhura, or Spock.”

“Ah, talk of the devil!” Scotty exclaimed. “There she is, deep in conversation with pointy-ears. Well, I say, if I didn’t know better, I’d think he’s quite taken with her, too.”

McCoy snorted.

“Well, you’re right, if anyone could get through to that Vulcan heart of his, it would probably be her.”

The two men watched Hope and Spock thread their way through the tables, looking for a place to sit down, while talking animatedly all the time.

Is there a light green hue to Spock’s cheeks?

“Well, well, well,” McCoy muttered, “looks like our pointy-eared friend has finally found a human who’ll put up with him and his scientific monologues.”

Knowing fully well how secretly fond the doctor really was of their green-blooded crew mate, Scotty grinned at McCoy, and the two men fell into a companionable silence, enjoying their drinks while observing the buzzing of the mess, their eyes somehow always finding their way back to Dr. Hope.

McCoy loved to just watch her and felt he could never get tired of it. It was like watching your favourite kitten. Everything she did, she did with so much grace. From dancing to singing to work.

More and more frequently, he found himself unconsciously seeking out places where she might be, wanting to be near her, even off duty. He’d go to see her perform in the band she’d called to life, or find excuses to be in the gym at the exact time she practiced her dancing with Chekov or her combat techniques with Sulu.

It didn’t matter if she even noticed his presence. He just enjoyed being around her. Her cheerfulness and warmth were balm to his soul, something he desperately needed to exorcise the atrocities he experienced in sickbay on an almost daily basis. Jim, of course, teased him about it every chance he got. Like right now, joining him and Scotty at their table with a smug grin on his face.

“Stalking our lovely new crewmember again, gentlemen?” he laughed, setting down his drink and grabbing a chair.

“Look who’s talking,” McCoy shot back. “Or are you just checking up on your chess partner? Former chess partner, I should probably say,” he added nastily, nodding meaningfully towards where Spock and Hope were still engrossed in their conversation, totally lost to the rest of the world.

Kirk threw him a pitying glance. It wasn’t hard to guess what had his friend so on edge. And a little amusing, too. He’d never seen McCoy jealous before. But of course, the doctor was still a far way away from admitting to having any feelings for Hope. Understandably, too, given his history with women.

But when Scotty had excused himself to get back to his technical journals, and the two friends were left alone at their table, he just couldn’t bite back a comment.

“Instead of drooling over her from afar, why don’t you just go up to her and ask her out, Bones? You spend so much time together already, anyway!”

“Don’t be silly, Jim!” the doctor snapped irritably. “We’re just working together.”

“Long hours, though, I hear.”

“Oh really, Jim, drop it already! What would I do with a young thing like her? And more to the point, what would she do with an old man, a divorcee, like me? She deserves far better than that. But with all the men fawning over her, she needs a friend, a paternal friend, to look out for her. To see beyond her beauty and charm.”

The captain almost spluttered his drink at that last sentence.

“And yet, she can make you smile and your eyes light up like no one else can,” Kirk stated in an annoying singsong voice.

“Keep your stupid comments to yourself, Jim, or I swear I’ll make your next physical one to remember,” McCoy growled, rolling his eyes.

That shut Kirk up. He’d learned long ago, that he could only go so far, teasing his CMO. It didn’t keep him from trying a different tactic, though. And with an innocent smile he got up from his chair, grabbed the surprised doctor by the arm, and pulled him along in the direction of Spock and Hope.

“I’ll need your help to get my chess partner back,” he grinned.

********************

Before McCoy could protest, Jim had reached their table and pulled out a chair.

“Mind if we join you, Spock? Dr. Hope? I hope we’re not intruding!”

“Not at all, Captain,” Spock said politely, “please join us, by all means!”

He made an inviting gesture with his hand, even after Kirk had already sat down.

“Doctor?”

“Dr. Hope? Spock?”

The two men in science blues nodded curtly at each other, before McCoy sat down, too, smiling apologetically at Hope and relieved to see her beaming back at him, obviously not annoyed at the intrusion at all.

“I hope we haven’t interrupted an important meeting?” he enquired of Spock.

“Nothing we can’t continue some other time, Doctor,” the Vulcan replied serenely. “Dr. Hope was just kindly explaining one of the more puzzling human emotions to me. Jealousy. Very illogical, and yet very intriguing.”

Kirk made a choking sound that he quickly covered up with a cough. And McCoy opened his mouth, but, not being able to come up with a single quip, shut it again. Spock just tilted his head a little to the side, and the doctor could have sworn, he was gloating.

Dr. Hope looked from one man to the other, not quite sure what was going on, and then decided to change the subject.

“Is Mr. Scott not with you?” she asked the doctor. “I was pretty sure he said he’d meet up with you for a long overdue lads’ night.”

“Oh, he was here, all right. Already gone back to his technical journals, though,” McCoy grinned, then told Hope he wanted to hear all about her adventures in engineering earlier that evening.

Spock sat back in his chair, partly listening to Dr. Hope, but at the same time using another part of his brain to study the people around him. He found analysing the interactions between humans a most entertaining occupation.

Contrary to common belief, he felt quite comfortable around humans, even enjoyed being part of a mostly human crew. No one had forced him to serve on the Enterprise. Asking to be assigned to this ship had been his own choice, after all.

Over the years, he’d learned to shield himself against the bulk of emotions that humans just couldn’t help broadcasting. And he’d got used to the more or less constant teasing of his crew mates, having understood long ago that it was part of the human way to demonstrate friendship.

In a way, he’d even come to relish the challenge of a little bickering. Especially with Dr. McCoy, whose affection he could clearly feel underneath the snark. Although he’d never tell that to his face. In fact, he found it most interesting that someone as emotional as McCoy, and proud of it, too, so fervently fought to hide his strongest emotions, namely the gentle, positive ones.

As for Captain Kirk, they’d been through enough together already, to know that they could fully trust and count on each other. He’d most definitely call him his friend. Although the captain, too, liked to tease him a lot, always trying to coax some emotion out of him, he knew that Jim deeply respected him and his skills and had more than once been able to save the ship and her crew by relying on and trusting in Spock’s logic.

Dr. Hope, however, was different in many ways, although some of them he couldn’t exactly pinpoint. Of course, being new to the Enterprise, and it being her first time on a starship in general, made her a bit of an outsider.

She spoke slightly differently, for instance. And although she was as talkative as any human, she sometimes seemed to lack that special connection, the ‘in-jokes’ so common between members of her species. No covert glances exchanged between her and other humans, where he was concerned, either. No eye-rolling like from McCoy or indulgent smiles like from Kirk.

At times, it almost seemed as if her human crew mates were as alien to her as they were to him. As if she was just another kind of alien. All that went unnoticed by the other humans, of course. They just found her ‘exotic’ and ‘mysterious’, which obviously added to her attractiveness.

Like him, Dr. Hope was curious, but not in a meddling, prying way. She was emotional, too, but in a pleasantly nonintrusive way. In fact, her presence had a warm and soothing effect on him.

She’d accepted and respected him like he was from the start. Just as she was unreservedly accepting and respectful of people in general – Scotty’s obsession with all things technical, McCoy’s cantankerousness, Kirk’s brashness, even Chekov’s often clumsy advances.

She never judged, and he felt extremely comfortable in her presence. Not least, because her presence also seemed to shield him from others’ judgement and comments. If that triggered his fellow officers’ jokes about him being just as much in love with her as everybody else, he could easily live with that. He could certainly see why she was so well loved.

He thought back to their first encounter on the bridge where she had already demonstrated her vast interest in the science department of a starship, curiosity being the one human emotion he understood best.

Shortly after, they’d had a more extensive meeting about starship regulations and safety protocols, and he’d found it most agreeable to see her treat this important and serious matter with the attention it deserved. Unlike most new crew members before her, who had openly displayed boredom and started fidgeting halfway through his speech.

Afterwards, to his slight astonishment, she’d asked him very politely, if he could also make time to give her his version of the most important facts of protocol around Vulcans, as she felt that what she’d been taught at the Academy was too basic and perfunctory. She’d further asked him to point out any future faux pas immediately, to give her the chance to correct her misdemeanour and help her in her endeavours to treat everyone with the respect they deserved.

Of course, he’d meticulously done so ever since, and she was always really grateful.

In return, she’d taken on the task of explaining – patiently and scientifically – a number of human emotions to him, elaborating on ‘what brought them on’, as she phrased it, and advising him on how best to deal with them.

Her explanations had been, and continued to be, very enlightening, indeed, and he found it extremely agreeable to be able to turn to her openly with any questions concerning human nature, in the knowledge that he could expect a neutral explanation instead of illogical, teasing remarks.

Apart from all that, he had to admit that he simply liked to be around her. It was highly pleasant to have a conversation with someone who was more interested in what he had to say than in how he said it.

“Spock!”

The captain’s voice brought him back to the present, and he was unpleasantly surprised to find that, curiously, his considerations of Dr. Hope’s character had taken up all of his mind, leaving no part of his brain to keep up with his current surroundings.

“Excuse me, Captain,” he said quickly, “I had my mind on a rather intriguing analysis.”

He saw Kirk and McCoy exchange amused glances, as Dr. Hope excused herself for the evening and the three men politely stood to bid her good night.

                                                                                                                                                                 Chapter 10

Late the next evening, McCoy went back to sickbay to get something from his office, surprised to find Hope happily dancing through a deserted sickbay to a tune only she could hear. He’d completely forgotten that she had switched shifts that day and was on night duty.  

Even though it was obvious that she thought herself alone and he felt like intruding, he just couldn’t resist watching her a little. The way her energetic personality rubbed off on him was exhilarating. He simply felt more alive when she was around and even briefly considered joining her, the idea of taking her in his arms and twirling her around very alluring. But of course, he stopped himself from doing so. It wouldn’t be right. He hadn’t known her all that long, and he was her superior after all.

It took quite a while for her to notice his presence, but when she turned around and found him standing there in the doorway, she stopped in her tracks, a little embarrassed smile on her lips, obviously not sure whether to apologise or just act as if it was the most normal thing to dance around sickbay at night time.

Seeing her discomfort, McCoy let a wide grin spread across his face.

“Don’t mind me, Dr. Hope, just keep on dancing. It’s a delight to watch you. Not many people enjoy sickbay as much as you obviously do. Although you might have to put on some real music next time, so we can all hear it and join in, too.”

At that a relieved smile brightened her face, and she laughed, “So sorry, Doctor. I thought I was on my own. Sometimes, when I’m feeling happy, I just can’t help myself.” Then, sobering up again, she added contritely, “But I can be serious and concentrate on my work, too, Doctor, I promise.”

McCoy chuckled, looking at her fondly.

“You’re a crazy one, Hope, and just what we needed here on the Enterprise. Stay exactly as you are, don’t you ever change! There’s enough misery around here anyway, and I’m sure I can do grumpy enough for the both of us. But don’t worry, my dear, I’ve watched you at work, I know that you take it very seriously and that I can rely on you.”

********************

Jenny couldn’t help laughing, she admired his easy ability for self-mockery. And to hear him praise her work boosted her confidence considerably.

Judging from the relaxed way he was leaning against the bulkhead, arms crossed in front of his chest, an easy smile on his face, he must have been standing there for quite some time already. She liked that. Liked what he’d said about not wanting her to change, too. He’d said it so affectionately, it warmed her heart ineffably.

Suddenly, it struck her that they were basically alone in this part of sickbay. The thought sent mixed emotions to her stomach, and she was relieved when the only patient chose exactly that moment to press the call button. Quickly excusing herself, she got back to work, glad to escape this situation, to which, she suspected, she attached far too much importance, anyway.

If she’d looked back, she’d have seen the shadow of disappointment darkening McCoy’s features. He’d enjoyed having her to himself, for once, immensely, and just stood there in the doorway for several moments before slowly walking out of sickbay.

The next day, however, she couldn’t resist taking the doctor at his word. Right before the end of her shift, glancing cheekily at the CMO, she put on some music, then addressed the whole of sickbay.

“If you don’t like my choice of music, you’ll have to leave sickbay! If you can!” she declared cheerfully.

Everybody, of course, started to dance, even the patients swayed to the happy rhythm, as the first bars of Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Holding Out For a Hero’ rang out.

McCoy returned her gaze with a twinkle in his eyes. And when she started to move to the rhythm, really getting into the groove of the song, she saw him laugh out loud and shake his head in disbelief.

Next on Jenny’s playlist was the soundtrack of one of her favourite classic films, ‘Dirty Dancing’, which she’d made Chekov sit through after one of their dancing sessions.

Just as ‘Hungry Eyes’ began to play, to Jenny’s surprise and delight, Dr. McCoy stepped towards her and, with a gallant little bow, took her hand and asked her to dance. Not a proper dance holding her close, of course, but the feeling of her hand in his was enough to send goose bumps all over her skin. The effect increased by his affectionate smile and the choice of song, of course. Although Jenny was pretty sure that McCoy had no way of knowing the soundtrack and had not chosen that song intentionally.

He was a surprisingly good dancer, really. Moving smoothly and elegantly, and perfectly in time with the music. But when she looked into his handsome face, all she could think was that probably not many people in sickbay had ever seen the CMO grinning like a Cheshire cat before.

********************

About a week after their impromptu dance interlude, Jenny hurried out the door of sickbay at lunchtime, bumping straight into McCoy, nearly losing her balance and grateful for him reaching out quickly to steady her, thus ending up in his arms for a long, exciting, embarrassing, heavenly moment.

“You seem a little distracted lately. Got something on your mind?” he asked kindly, concern showing in his eyes, while she was still busy sorting out her emotions.

“No, Doctor, sorry. Maybe just too many late-night talks recently,” she chuckled, her voice sounding tired, even to her own ears.

“Don’t get me wrong, Hope,” he continued softly, “I really appreciate what you’re doing around here, the way you care about people and how you help them is great.”

He smiled warmly at her.

“But you mustn’t neglect your own needs. Rest, sleep, you need those too! You need to take care of yourself. Or is there something else bothering you?” he tried again.

Jenny shook her head, but the doctor held her gaze.

“If you need to talk, I’m here. Anytime.”

The words nearly brought on her tears, but, with a quiet “Thank you, Doctor,” Jenny managed to quickly turn around and continue on her way.

McCoy watched her go, an uneasy feeling in his gut. He’d have to keep an eye on her. She’d been awfully quiet lately, not her usual bubbly self at all.

He didn’t have to wait long, however. Just before the end of his shift, there was a knock on his office door and Hope stuck her head in.

“Have you got a minute, Doctor?”

“Sure! What can I do for you?” he tried to sound as inviting as he could, not wanting her to lose her nerve again.

“You were right earlier. I’ve got something on my mind. I think I need your advice.”

“Glad you came, it was hard seeing you so subdued,” he smiled. “This will take longer, I take it? Want to grab a coffee and find somewhere quiet to talk?”

“That would be great.”

She seemed relieved to have this conversation away from his office, making him wonder what this was really about.

Knowing that she liked it and felt comfortable there, he suggested the observation deck, to which she readily agreed. There, they got coffee and found a quiet corner to sit down.

“All right, Hope, shoot. How can I help?” he began with an encouraging smile, watching her fidgeting around and giving her time to find the right words.

Jenny was very grateful for his patience.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Just start anywhere. We’ll piece it together,” he smiled reassuringly.

“OK. I’m just trying to do the right thing here. But I don’t seem to know what that is anymore.”

“That sounds serious.”

He raised a concerned eyebrow at her, but didn’t push it, waiting for her to continue in her own time.

And then the words started tumbling out of her.

McCoy listened attentively, calmly asking questions here and there, taking her concerns very seriously. Just talking to him, telling him what was on her mind, was a great relief and helped to clear her mind. He was so understanding, and sitting here with him, she felt warm and comfortable.

Hope’s problem, it turned out, was not her own but that of a female ensign who had come to seek her advice some days ago. McCoy felt sorry and responsible that she’d had to deal with this. He should have been aware that the people coming to talk to her would burden her with more serious stuff, too. She couldn’t be left alone like this in the future. He’d have to talk to her about that some other time.

Said ensign, it transpired, had hinted at having been molested, possibly even worse by one of her male crew mates, but wouldn’t tell who.

“She only said that it was a lieutenant who’d already transferred off the Enterprise some time ago, and had died since in the line of duty,” Hope explained. “If he were still alive, I’d have come to you right away, of course,” she quickly assured him. “I mean, this is a serious allegation, and I wouldn’t want to be responsible for a repeat.”

McCoy was relieved to hear that. But then, he’d never doubted Hope’s sense of duty and responsibility.

“But since he can’t do any more harm, and she told me this in confidence, I was going to keep it to myself. Especially, since I don’t know for sure what really happened between them.”

“So, what changed your mind?” the doctor asked gently, taking in her pained expression and thinking how easy it was to forget how young she really was. The thought weighed heavily on his conscience. He’d definitely have to be more protective of her.

“I can’t really put my finger on it, Doctor, but when I talked to her yesterday, she seemed a little…” Hope took her time to find the right word. “… off?”

She looked at McCoy for help, and he could see her inner struggle. She so badly wanted to do right by this ensign, whose name he had yet to learn.

“I mean, even though there’s no reason for her to be afraid anymore, she’s clearly not over this yet. Over him, or over what he’s done to her, I don’t know. And maybe I’m reading too much into this whole thing. I just have a feeling that she needs help. Professional help. Your help. But if I’m wrong, she’ll feel betrayed by my telling you. I don’t want to betray her trust.”

The words came pouring out now, the relief of confiding in him outweighing her sense of discretion, and McCoy was glad to see it. He leaned forward and gently put his hands on her arms in an attempt to ground her. It worked. She looked straight into his eyes, exhaled deeply and fell silent.

“I’m glad you came to me, Hope. I don’t think you’ve read too much into it at all, and I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry, you did the right thing.”

McCoy saw his words of comfort sink in, and was deeply touched by the look of relief and utmost trust in her eyes, as she gratefully looked up at him. He’d really have to look out more for her from now on. He needed to keep in mind that, despite her confident and mature personality, she was barely grown-up and had accordingly limited life experience, after all.

Once again, he felt a warm wave of protectiveness for this extraordinary young woman wash over him and couldn’t resist a comforting caress of his hand to her face. But when, for a brief moment, she smilingly leaned into his touch, lifting affectionate eyes to his, he realised that, deep down, he felt something else, too. And that something, though not yet definable, worried him.

An instant later, however, he did what he always did to unbidden thoughts. He pushed them to the back of his mind, totally intending to forget about them.

********************

Continue to: Chapters 11 - 20 Chapters 21 - 30 Chapters 31 - 40 Chapters 41 - 50 Chapters 51 - 61

Or read it on AO3: On Borrowed Time 

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

[kijeu-kijeu-straykijeu]

protect my heart ♡ Lee Felix

➤ summary: There’s no telling what the future holds, especially not if you are appointed as the new bodyguard for the son of very influential and powerful people.

➤ genre: bodyguard au, fluff

➤ word count: 5,636

➤ A/N: Initially, I intended to complete this scenario before “I know you, You know me“,  but ended up postponing it. Nevertheless, I was finally able to post this scenario, so I hope you enjoy reading it. ♡ 

“Y/N, you must do it,” Mr. Bang ordered, giving me a stern look. 

While holding a straight posture, I felt that my body began to stiffen. I gulped nervously, “Sir, are you sure that you want to leave this important job to me? Ever since I worked here, I was merely an assistant.”

Mr. Bang leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “What would you say if I hired you as an assistant on purpose?”

Confusion overcame me, but I have to keep a neutral face. “I don’t quite understand what you mean, sir.”

He leaned forward again and rested his elbows on the table, his chin sticked out slightly. “You’re the best student I’ve ever had, Y/N. Out of all students I’ve taught so far, you completed the many years of intensive training excellently.”

During the seven years I was in Mr. Bang’s training program, he had never once praised a student. “Thank you, sir!” I said as I bowed to him.

“So what are you planning on doing? Are you gonna take up the challenge?” Mr. Bang asked in a commanding tone.

“Yes, sir. I gladly accept the mission,” I said loudly and clearly. As if I had another choice, I thought.

°•* •* °

“Here’s the data of the client,” Woojin said, handing me the folder. 

“Thanks.” I took the folder and stuffed it inside my bag.

“Come to think of it, it’s your first mission, right? Are you nervous?” Woojin asked, holding a coffee mug in his hand.

I nodded vigorously, “The piles of paperwork I had to do for the boss must have turned me into a wimp. The client allegedly is a very important person on top of that.”

“Oh yeah, he is,” Woojin said approving. “The client is the son of a high-ranking politician and her husband is the chairman of one of the largest companies here. Apparently, or it’s rather obvious that the son’s going to inherit the company due to his father’s illness,” Woojin whispered, since information about the clients are strictly confidential.

“Not forget to mention, you got a very well-paid job and also get to live in a chic mansion,” Woojin added, emphasizing the well-paid.

“How can it be that such a small girl hits the jackpot? In contrast to me, who just got the job to protect a hairless cat,” he sighed, sipping on the coffee mug.

“If it was possible, I would switch with you.” I stood up, and slung my bag over my shoulder. “I better get going now. There’s a bunch of stuff to pack for my departure tomorrow. Thank you for everything, Woojin.”

“My pleasure,” he said, lifting the mug. “Take care.”

“See you,” I waved at him, before stepping out of the office room.

°•* •* ° 

After putting on my ironed black suit and tying my hair back in a neat ponytail, I dragged my suitcase round the front door and was ready to set off.

About a two-hour ride through the city and a small town, I was on a broad way in a suburb, in which big mansions were lining up in a row. “Impressive. The wealthiest of the wealthy people must be living here,” I whistled.

By the time the navigation system told me that I’ve ‘reached my destination’, I was already able to see a big iron gate from afar. I drove up a stone-surfaced path. It had a row of beautiful red rose bushes on either side of it.

“What a prestigious place ... ” I mumbled as I slowly approached the big gate.

The gate opened magically by itself, so I had no problem entering the forecourt until two giant and well-built men in black suits with shades blocked my way.

One of them pointed me to get off the car, so I did as I was told. “Are you the new recruit?” the other one asked, his bald head shined in the sunlight.

“Yes, I am. CB Group’s CEO Bang Chan sent me. My name is Y/N,” I introduced myself, trying to appear as professional and tough as possible.

“The young master is expecting you. Follow me.” the baldie said, while the other guy got into my car and drove away, probably to the parking lot.

When going up the polished steps to the heavy front door, I inhaled and exhaled in order to calm my nerves down.

The door came open and a white angelic-like light dazzled me. The next thing I noticed was the round and large hallway with maids going back and fourth and up and down the marble steps.

“This way,” the baldie growled. The mansion as well as its interior design left me in astonishment. We walked along a broad corridor with a red carpet covered floor. Old paintings in gold frames hung on both walls. At the end of the corridor was a mighty wooden door which the baldie easily pushed open.

The door led to another large room with bookshelves as walls. Everywhere I looked were brown shelves of books. The red and gold embroidered carpet was barely seen because loose sheets of paper, high piles of books, and stacks of old letters covered it. In short, it was the messiest library I’ve ever seen. 

The baldie lead me further in the vast library until he stopped in front of a long antique table. He bowed in a thirty-degree tilt. “Sir, your bodyguard has arrived,” he announced and stepped aside.

My legs began to wobble, and I immediately bowed to the client in ninety-degree angle. “How do you do, sir? My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

Damn it. I totally screwed up, I thought as I bit my lip.

In the moment I bowed, I remained like this until I heard footsteps coming towards me. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

When I looked up, a young man in a white shirt and black tie stood next to me, extending his hand.

“My name is Felix, Lee Felix. Please take good care of me from today onwards,” he said smilingly, his voice was even deeper and lower than that of the baldie.

I firmly took his hand and bowed my head, “I will give my best.”

Wow, he sure looks young. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was younger than me, I thought as I let go of his hand.

“Bing, is everything prepared for her stay?” Mr. Lee asked as he sat down on his padded chair.

“Yes, sir, her room is located across from yours,” he confirmed and doddered away.

°•* •* °

When taking some documents out, Mr. Lee spread them over the table. “Y/N.”

“Yes, sir?” I exclaimed, holding the usual straight posture next to his desk.

“Have a seat. You don’t have to stand all the time,” he said, patting on the chair beside him.

“Sir, you are too generous. It is a part of my job to follow the rules,” I refused his kind offer.

Mr. Lee shoved the documents aside and glanced at me, “So the rules are forbidding you from sitting?”

“No, sir. But my boss stated explicitly that the bodyguard has to be poised to attack at any time in order to protect the client. And if I sit down, my reaction time might get slower, resulting me putting you at risk.”

In response to my answer he blinked a bit, then chuckled, “You’re really strange.”

What? Did he just labeled me as ‘strange’? 

“Okay, I understand the ‘no sitting’ rule, but can you at least talk with me?” he asked charmingly.

I nodded, “Talking is all right, sir.”

All of a sudden, he bursted into laughter, “You know what? I take my words back about you being strange. You’re hilarious!”

“What’s so funny?” I knit my eyebrows in confusion.

He wiped his tears away which barely escaped his eyes, “Phew, I haven’t laughed like this in so long. But Y/N, what happened to the honorifics?”

My eyes widened and I bowed to him, “My apologies for not watching my language, I will certainly reflect on it.”

When I raised my head, I found him erupting in laughter again. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop now,” he said, and glimpsed at my poker face, which was a warning for him to not piss me off.

It seemed like he got the message, or else he wouldn’t clear his throat and rub his neck nervously. “That was just a joke. I didn’t like you using honorifics like ‘sir’ in the first place,” he said lowly. “Apart from that, your answers were so cute that I couldn’t help but laugh.”

“I apologize! I apologize for giving you this scary look!” I clenched my teeth in embarrassment.

“I’ll accept your apology if you drop the honorifics. Deal?” he bargained.

“D-deal,” I agreed reluctantly, knowing that Mr. Bang would kill me if he found out that I’m speaking to the client casually.

A big smile formed on his face, “Since we got rid of this topic, I want you to call me by my first name. Everyone is always like ‘sir’ here and ‘young master’ there. I can’t hear this anymore.”

“May I ask you something first?” I asked hesitantly. “How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen,” he replied. 

“Woah, we’re the same age! And I estimated you as a sixteen-year-o-,” I bit my tongue as I realized that I’m being cheeky.

To my surprise, his already big smile became bigger, “I hear that often, but to be honest, I even thought you were fifteen.”

“Stop joking around and do your work, Felix,” I said amused.

“I’m going to work if you sit down,” Felix grinned happily. “Let me tell you something, during my eighteen years of living, I’ve never been once in a risky or dangerous situation. And today won’t be an exception.”

“Fine.” I sat down on the surprisingly soft chair as I turned to him. “Say, why did you hire me if you already have security guards like that baldie? Aren’t they enough for your safety?”

“According to my parents, no. I’m not sure why they insisted on hiring you, but I assume it’s because I’m temporarily living here alone,” Felix explained.

“Couldn’t it be that you have opponents or rivals, who are searching for revenge?” I asked curiously.

“You just said yourself that I look like sixteen-year-old, so how could I possibly have or make any enemies?”

“Ah, I forgot, you’re right.” I said sarcastically.

“Hey,” he gently nudged me with his elbow and laughed heartily.

By this time the whole nervosity and tension I had felt earlier vanished at once. It was like I was talking to friend of the same age.

°•* •* °

Felix spent the whole day in the library without leaving his desk, which was now piled high with more folders and paper stacks.

Due to the heavy curtains, no evening light had been able to come on indoors, only the majestic chandeliers filled the library with dim orange light. When I glanced over the piles of paper, Felix was still writing diligently. 

Oh my, what a hardworking boy. He’s only eighteen and yet he has to spent his youth in a pile of paperwork. Well, this also applied to me, I thought and leaned back on the chair.

“Y/N, if you’re getting sleepy, you can leave,” Felix said, his eyes still on a document.

“I’m staying. It’s a twentyfourseven job after all.” I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling, which seemed to be impossible to reach.

The sound of a falling pencil lead me to sat up, Felix rolled his chair backwards and turned to me. “Shall I postpone the work and we call it a day?” he asked as if he was amazed by his own idea.

“Are you sure? The paper will keep stacking up, though,” I tried to talk him out of it.

“It’s all right. Staying here all day is suffocating. Let’s go,” he said nonchalantly, and stood up.

°•* •* °

We went all the way back to the grand hallway, where the maids were still running around busily. After climbing up the steps, Felix opened a big door, which lead to a broad corridor with a row of doors. 

“You’re bedroom is the fourth one on the left,” he pointed at it with his finger. “Mine is across yours, so if you need anything just knock on my door.”

“Okay. Ah, and by the way, at what time do I have to start working?” I asked, my hand on the door knob.

“My secretary will pick you up at eight o’clock. We’ll see each other at the breakfast table,” Felix said, before entering his room. “Good night, Y/N.”

Before I could wish him a ‘good night’ back, he already shut his door. 

°•* •* °

Exactly at eight o’clock, someone knocked on my door. When I got up to open it, a gloomy face greeted me. 

“Hello, my name is Seo Changbin. I’m Mr. Lee’s secretary. He told me to pick you up, so if you would be so kind to follow me now,” he said listlessly, turned round, and marched to the big door.

Wow, what a morning person, I clapped inside my head sarcastically as I walked behind him.

As soon as the next door came open, we entered a large dining room. Above our heads hung a huge chandelier from the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a long table, behind it stood Felix who was serving meals.

The next thing I knew was, Felix standing up in an instant after seeing Changbin. They hugged each other excitedly, but what shocked me the most was the quick switch of Changbin’s facial expressions.

“Y/N, have a seat,” Felix offered, pushing a chair out.

During breakfast nothing much happened, except of Changbin who showed that he is an actual sunshine. Could it be an identity crisis? I wondered.

Soon afterwards, Felix began his ‘I-spend-all-day-in-the-library’ routine. To my surprise or rather to his surprise, the surface of his desk wasn’t visible anymore due to the indeed growing stacks of paper.

Felix let out a sigh and sat down, immediately beginning to sort the single-colored folders in different stacks on the floor.

“Can I help you?” I asked, feeling sorry for him.

He sighed once more, this time more exhausted. “Beat up this monstrous mountain of paper, please,” he whined, giving me a piteous gaze.

“Instead of beating this monster up,” I said as I sat down next to him, “let’s take it apart. Bit by bit.”

°•* •* °

Shortly after midday, the piles and stacks of folders and papers disappeared completely. In the meantime, Felix and I leaned back on the chairs, our eyes closed, while we silently rested in the warmth of the soft shining sunlight, which came pouring through the large square windows into the rather shady library. 

“Felix?” I called, glancing sideways at him.

He kept his eyes shut, his tie hung loose around his neck, a few brown hair strands rested round his face. Looking at how the sunlight casted a shadow on him, he resembled an angel. He’s really handsome, I thought and found myself admiring his perfect side profile.

It seemed that he fell asleep. That wouldn’t surprise me, he had worked hard as if there was no tomorrow. Hopefully, he won’t become the successor of his father’s company or else he’ll really spend his life locked up in this library.

“You’re the male version of the Sleeping Beauty, did you know?” I said, even though Felix couldn’t hear me anyway. “The only difference is that you’re not sleeping, but working all the time.”

By the time the Sleeping Beauty finally opened his eyes, it was already dark outside. Felix sat up, rubbed his sleepy eyes, and looked around the dark library. “Y/N is gone,” he mumbled to himself, stood up, and stretched his arms up to the ceiling. “And she said she must stay by my side twentyfourseven.”

“Oi Felix, are you awake?” I called out behind the many bookshelves.

“Y/N? Where are you?” Felix asked confused, carefully walking between the bookshelves while trying not to trip over a bundle of books. 

“Felix, come over here.” I waved as I saw him stumbling in the other direction.

“What are you doing here?” Felix asked, looking at his watch. “It’s already past midnight. You should go to bed now.”

“Stop mothering me, and take this,” I said and handed him a wilted-looking book. 

Felix had a baffled look on his face when he eyed the book cover. “Sleeping Beauty? Shall I read this fairy tale to you, so you fall asleep more easily?” he asked jokingly.

I shook my head. “You’re not the one who’s going to read the fairy tale.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I’m the reader and you’re the listener,” I clarified, and marched out of the maze of bookshelves.

Still being baffled by what just had happened, Felix froze, not knowing what to do or say. “H-hey, Y/N! Let’s go together!” he called after me.

°•* •* °

A flamboyant night lamp next to Felix’s large double bed poorly lit up the room, but it was enough to read the book. I sat on a stool beside the night lamp while reading the fairy tale to Felix who snuggled up in his blankets.

The story time ended sooner than I thought, because Felix was sound asleep before I could read the end of the fairy tale. At the sight of his cute sleeping face, I couldn’t help but giggle. 

“See you tomorrow, my Sleeping Beauty,” I whispered, and closed the door behind me.

°•* •* °

In the following morning, Felix wasn’t in the dining room. After eating breakfast by myself, I headed to the library, knowing that it was Felix’s actual home. 

But he wasn’t there either. That perplexed me. Where would he go besides the library? My heart felt uneasy and began to beat faster.

Just as I was about to dash out of the library to search him, Felix appeared behind the many bookshelves. “Oh, Y/N, you’re already here. I’m sorry I overslept,” Felix grinned innocently while scratching his forehead.

“It seems like you had a good sleep,” I said, crossing my arms. “As of tomorrow, I’m going to wake you up.”

“Eh? There’s no need. Don’t force yourself,” Felix said, waving it off.

“I can’t have you wandering around without me while I don’t have a clue about your whereabouts. Don’t forget that it’s my duty to protect you,” I argued, being irritated by the current situation.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout at you,” I said apologetically once I realized it hadn’t been his fault.

“No, don’t be. If I had set my alarm, I wouldn’t have been late,” Felix said in attempt to set me at ease.

Soon afterwards, silence filled the room where I didn’t dare to look at him.

“You know,” Felix began as he came closer to me, “due to your kindness to read a fairy tale to me, I was able to sleep deeply all night long.”

When I glanced at him, I noticed that he suddenly became nervous.

“So I hope you can do it more often,” Felix said shyly, his face reddened a little.

“If it’s an order, I have no choice but to follow it,” I said smilingly.

Upon seeing how Felix’s eyes crinkled into rainbow-like shapes and his mouth spread into a blinding smile, a warm, tingling feeling rose inside of me. 

In that moment, I somehow suspected what kind of feeling it was, but there was no way it could be true. 

It hasn’t been a week since I started working here, and I already broke several rules:

 I’m talking to the client casually.

 I lost sight of the client. 

And last but not least, I fell in love with the client?!

No, no, no, just no! Get a grip, Y/N! You only had one task, and you’re already screwing up, I thought, and punched myself mentally.

°•* •* °

Luckily, I was somehow able to swallow this feeling down. In this kind of situation, it was the best to draw a line!

“Y/N, can you pass me the bundle of letters, please?” Felix asked, pointing at the letters next to my feet.

I picked up the bundle and handed it to him. Even if we managed to get rid of the the monstrous pile of paperwork yesterday, Felix’s desk was showered with papers again. I sighed and drifted off.

“Are you okay? You seem tired,” Felix remarked, looking up from a letter to turn to me.

The last thing I wanted was him worrying about me, so I put on a fake smile and told him I was just fine. 

Felix put the letter down and rolled his chair over to me. “You’re face is glowing,” he said as he placed his hand on my forehead. 

Of course my face is glowing when your face is only a few inches away from mine, I screeched inside my head.

“Come with me.” Felix stood up, took my hand, and lead me out of the library.

“W-where are we going? I’m really fine!” I exclaimed, but Felix just ignored me and we walked through the large hallway, where the maids stared at us. Without minding them, we walked upstairs. Felix flung my room door open, and closed it as soon as we entered the room. 

“Felix, listen, I’m fine. I could do hundred push-ups here right now,” I said, trying to convince him.

“You’re saying you’re fine, but I’m not fine with it!” Felix countered, looking worried and stressed out.

A long silence followed afterwards, in which we both knew what we actually wanted. I took his hand off of mine, and warmed his hand with both of my hands before I walked him to my bed.

“You’re the one who has to rest,” I said, giving him a comforting smile. “So consider today as your day off, and don’t think of anything else but yourself.”

Felix hesitated to answer. He sat down on the bed and sighed, “Can you ... stay by my side until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” I nodded, and picked up the book, Sleeping Beauty, which I put on my nightstand. “If you want, I can continue reading this to you,” I offered.

Felix cheered up a little, a shy smile formed on his face, “Yes, please.”

Throughout the day, Felix was in deep sleep without waking up once. Seeing him sleeping peacefully like this is enough. As long as he’s happy and healthy, I don’t need anything else.

Several days have passed since then, and I was sure I’m not able to erase my feelings for him. They kept growing, so I kept calling him in my heart. 

°•* •* ° 

Standing in front of the library, I found a note sticking on the door. 

You don’t have to come to the library today. I’ll see you later.

Felix

What do I do now? I wondered, and went back to my room. Just as I opened the door, I heard my phone rang at the nightstand, but the caller hung up before I was able to answer it. When I checked who had called me, my stomach dropped away downward somewhere. It was a missed call from Mr. Bang, but why would he personally call me? Could it be that he found out about me breaking the rules?! I panicked as my phone began to buzz.

“A text message from Mr. Bang,” I muttered anxiously before reading it.

Y/N, don’t think I’m going to ask you how you’re doing over there, because I won’t.

Tss, what a tsundere, I thought and read on.

Good for me, but rather cumbersome for you. We’ve a long queue of new clients who demand the best bodyguards. In short, you have to come back to the headquarters. I’ve already phoned your current client’s secretary. Pack your belongings, you have one day.  

PS: Don’t dare ignore my call next time.

CB Group CEO Bang Chan

I couldn’t believe what I’ve read just now. A transfer? Does Felix know about this? I wondered, and decided to talk to Changbin first since he was the person Mr. Bang had mentioned in the text message.

°•* •* °

When I was about to knock on Changbin’s office door, I could hear Felix’s voice. He sounded dissatisfied. I carefully opened the door, and stumbled inside. My eyes stopped on Felix’s back as he stood in front of Changbin’s desk. None of them noticed me.

“Yes, it’s true, Felix. Your father’s health stabilized, so your parents might return home sooner than expected,” Changbin explained, clasping his hands together as he put his elbows on the desk. “I know the last few weeks have been hard for you, but once the chairman is able to go to work again, you can go back living your own life,” Changbin said promising.

“No, I won’t. I’ll have to follow my father’s footsteps. That’s why I’m just able to continue if Y/N is by my side,” Felix stated, slamming his hands on Changbin’s desk. “Cancel the transfer. I need Y/N,” he said, looking serious and yet so frustrated.

Upon hearing Felix saying he needed me, my heart began to thump and pound.

“I’m sorry, Felix. Neither me nor you can do anything about it. The transfer documents are signed and sealed,” Changbin clarified.

Felix ran his hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. “Give them to me, the documents, I’ll tear them up,” he said impatiently.

“Just as I’ve said before, there’s nothing you can do about that,” Changbin tried to say as nice as he could, but Felix remained stubborn. 

“That’s enough,” I intervened, holding on Felix’s arm. “Sorry for bothering you,” I said, turning to Changbin, and dragged Felix out of the office room.

“Y/N, why are you holding me back? Is it just me who wants you to stay?” Felix asked, anger and disappointment were written on his face.

“No, I don’t want this to happen either, but you heard what Changbin said,” I paused as his eyes met mine. 

“I don’t care what he said. I won’t let you go,” Felix said, his voice filled with tenderness.

“Did you come here, trying to keep me as your bodyguard?” I asked, being flattered by his effort.

Felix shook his head. “You’re more than just a bodyguard to me. You- ... never mind,” he cleared his throat and walked away.

“When you start talking, you should finish your sentence!” I called after him.

°•* •* °

“There’s something I’m curious about, how did you know about my transfer?” I asked as I took my clothes out of the closet, throwing them in my suitcase.

“Changbin messaged me last night, but he wasn’t in the mansion at that time. So I decided to discuss about your transfer with him today,” Felix replied, watching me trying to close my full suitcase. “That won’t do if you don’t fold your clothes,” Felix said, and shoved me firmly aside.

“I didn’t expect you to be this messy,” Felix chuckled as he began to fold my blazer.

“Nah, I’m not messy, but rather lazy” I said, shrugging my shoulders as I kneeled down to fold my shirts. “I’m sorry for making you cleaning up my stuff.”

“I don’t mind at all since I couldn’t help you in any way. But don’t you have more things to pack? Didn’t you forget anything? Your diary? Your stuffed animal?

My heart?” Felix asked, gazing at me with expectant eyes.

“H-huh? Y-your ... what?” I stammered, not knowing whether I heard right.

Felix put a t-shirt down and moved closer to me, “My heart is yours now, but you’re going to leave. You should take it with you so that you won’t forget me.”

After staring at him, I quickly averted my gaze, hoping that he didn’t noticed how red my face had become, “What- what are you saying.”

“You know what I mean,” Felix said, tilting his head to make eye contact with me, “I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot.”

A quick glimpse at him was enough for me to tell that he waited for an answer. I clutched the shirt in my hands as I gathered my courage to face him. “Even if I told you that I like you too, it wouldn’t change anything. Today is my last day with you, so it’s better to stop at this point instead of starting something new.”

“So you do like me too!” Felix smiled brightly.

“Didn’t you listen to me? Let’s keep the bodyguard-client relationship we have now,” I said even if I’m the happiest person alive right now.

“I don’t want you to see me as your client, though,” Felix countered. “Besides, there’s no point to discuss about it now, because you won’t be able to reject me. I’m annoyingly stubborn, you know.”

“Ah, is that so? Me too. I’m super annoyingly stubborn too,” I said, and was about to stand up as Felix grabbed my wrist. “Y/N, I’m serious. I can’t picture a life without you in it.”

His soft and pleading gaze while looking up at me caused my heart to break. 

“As a bodyguard, isn’t it your job to protect your client? Not just physically, but you have to protect their heart as well,” Felix said as he stood up. “If you’re going like this, ... it’s the same as if you’re throwing my heart away.” 

Felix gently took me into his arms, where I was welcomed with nothing but sincerity and warmth. The great longing we have for each other won’t fade away easily, so we tried to make the best out of this situation.

But time seeped through our hands, and it continued to flow until it was time for me to go.

°•* •* ° 

It was a beautiful summer morning with birds twittering somewhere. Felix and I stood in the forecourt, waiting for the baldie to come with my car.

“Here, take this with you,” Felix said, holding a brown book in his hands.

My eyes widened in surprise as I recognized the book cover, “This is ... ”

“Sleeping Beauty,” Felix continued my sentence. “Read this when you can’t sleep, and ... think of me whenever you see it.“

I looked up to see that Felix was smiling at me. “Thank you. I’ll put it right next to my bed once I arrive at home” I said, returning his smile. “And if you happen to have difficulties to go to sleep, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll read a fairy tale to you.”

“I’ll even call you when I don’t have a reason to do it,” Felix grinned happily.

Soon afterwards, the baldie drove around the corner and stopped near the iron gate. He got out, and handed me my keys before doddering away.

“I guess we have to say goodbye now,” Felix smiled sadly.

I stared on the ground as I nodded, trying to keep my eyes dry. 

“Y/N, please look at me,” Felix said gently, but I pretended not to listen. “It’s my last order,” he added.

So I did as I was told, and tears started to roll down my cheeks as soon as I saw his enchanting smile. Felix took a step forward, and cupped my cheeks with his hands, wiping my tears with his thumbs away.

“Stop crying or I start crying too,” Felix laughed as he began to squish my face. “That’s not funny,” I mumbled between his hands as he suddenly pulled me in a tight embrace. One of his hands cradled the back of my head and the other one held me closer to him. 

“Let’s meet again,” he muttered into my hair. “I love you, Y/N.”

I buried my crying face in his shoulder, “Me too. I love you so much.”

We remained like this for a while, waiting for one of us to pull away. 

When I drove out of the forecourt, Felix kept waving at me until the big iron gate closed by itself. 

The red rose bushes on either side of the stone-surfaced path let me reminisce about the first time I drove to the mansion.

And if I think about it again, Felix is indeed the male version of the Sleeping Beauty. The red rose bushes symbolize the thorn hedges in the fairy tale. The mansion is the castle, and the incapacity to reduce Felix’s working hours are the sleeping people in the castle since they weren’t able to help the princess.

Through a kiss the princess awakened, but could I relieve Felix of his work?

°•* •* °

One week later~

“That’s so unfair! You hit the jackpot yet again! And then there’s me who has to hang up with a hairless cat,” Woojin whined as he handed me the data of my new client.

“Some day you’ll be friends with that cat,” I laughed and took the folder. “Hang in there!” I tried to cheer him up, and waved goodbye when I left the office room.

°•* •* °

Having arrived at the house of the client, I stood still in order to calm myself down. “Okay, Y/N. You can do this,” I said to myself, and rang the door bell.

I couldn’t believe my eyes as a certain person I know all too well had opened the front door.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Lee Felix,” he introduced himself, and extended his hand as his kind eyes crinkled into rainbow-like shapes.

“And again, I ask you to take good care of me from today onwards.”

[ashlynncoy-blog]

Misfire: Help and Reward

MORNING: THE DEATH STAR: ALDERAAN SYSTEM

“Commence primary ignition.”

No!

This couldn’t be happening!

There were beeps and tweeters, the sounds of buttons being depressed and of levers being pulled. A whirr and a buzzing as lights flashed on panels all around. The unmistakable whine of a laser being charged. And then…

Nothing.

Silence.

For a moment everything on the deck was still. Tarkin gaped at the viewport, at the blue and glowing orb of Alderaan as it slowly rotated—peaceful and unmarred by his instrument of ruin.

And then a sudden flurry. The helmeted ghouls, just moments ago tasked with a planet’s destruction, running around like madmen.

“What happened?” Tarkin barked.

“A misfire, sir.”

“How is that possible?”

“The power plant might not have had full recharge after the operation on Scarif. We may need more time. We’re working on the problem now.”

“Take the princess back to her cell!”

THREE DAYS LATER: ALLIANCE BASE: YAVIN 4

“Solo!” Bail Organa called out to Han across the crowded throne room.

The ceremony had only just finished. General Dodonna had dismissed the rebel troops from their ranks, but most of them remained in the large chamber, milling about and trying to get a moment with the honorees. Luke was eating it up, happily shaking hands and clapping shoulders with all manner of personnel.

Han, who had never been particularly comfortable with crowds of strangers, had hung close to the front. He’d been having a delightful conversation with Leia and her mother when he heard Bail’s voice behind him. He turned to see the Viceroy waving. Solo waved to acknowledge him and then turned back to the ladies.

“You’re popular,” Leia declared, picking up the medal from around his neck to look at it more closely. She hadn’t had a chance to see the awards up close before the ceremony, and she’d been surprised at the weight of the thing when she’d first picked it up to put it around his neck. Han grinned down at her.

If someone in that Cantina on Tatooine had told him that before the week was out, he’d be standing on a dais with a medal around his neck, getting teased by a princess, he’d have taken any odds they had to offer against it.

But here he was.

“Captain Solo,” Bail greeted him then, clapping Han on his shoulder from behind. “A moment, please?” Han shrugged.

“Ladies,” he said, “if you’ll excuse me?” The two women nodded as Leia let go of Han’s medal.

“You’ll save me a dance,” Breha insisted as the men turned to go. Bail shook his head as he led Han toward a quiet corner just off the dais.

“I see you’re making friends with my wife,” he said. Han felt his face flush. Even at twenty years his senior, Breha Organa was a beautiful woman. And Han Solo couldn’t help it if he’d noticed. And she’d been so kind and welcoming to him, he couldn’t help but to like her and enjoy spending time with her. It occurred to him now maybe that wasn’t the most prudent relationship for him to be cultivating. But between her magnanimous hospitality, and his budding friendship with Leia, he had been spending an awful lot of time with Her Majesty these last few days.

“Yes sir,” Han said, hoping to keep it at that.

“I’m glad,” Bail said then. Not what Han expected. “People can be intimidated by the title,” he said, “sometimes that’s hard for her—especially someplace like this where we’re part of the command structure. It’s nice for Breha, and for Leia might I add, that you don’t seem hung up on that.”

“Um… thanks?” Bail shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m glad my family’s happy,” he said. “And to that end,” he added, pulling a small velvet box from an inside pocket of his tabard, “I wasn’t sure this would be here in time. It only just arrived, but I wanted to get it to you as soon as possible. I know you’ve been planning to take off as soon as the ceremony was over, and I wanted to get this to you.”

Han reached out and took the box from Bail’s hand. It was beautiful—a nicer thing than he could ever remember being presented with. Han was thoroughly unaccustomed to receiving gifts, especially gifts in fancy packages. And he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Please,” Bail encouraged, “open it.”

Solo nodded and did as he’d been invited, pulling open the box at the hinge to get a look at the contents.

Nestled into the box’s velvet and satin interior, sat a tiny holocron. This was intriguing. Han wondered whether it might be some royal marker—Bail had said he’d be welcome on Alderaan any time—or perhaps it was a trophy of sorts to go along with the medal Leia and her mother had just given him.

When he switched it on, he discovered it was neither. But he recognized the sigil that came into relief right away. A pit suddenly formed in Solo’s stomach.

“Wait… that’s… that’s Jabba’s chit,” he said. Bail nodded.

The sigil rotated for another moment, and then an image of the Hutt crimelord came to life in miniature before them. The sound on the thing was muted, but his words were subtitled in aurebesh. In Huttese and then again in Basic, Jabba declared Han Solo’s debt to be paid in full.

“I don’t understand,” Han said. “How did you…?”

“I have my ways,” the Viceroy answered. He smiled then and shrugged. “I asked your copilot,” he admitted.

“You understand Shriiwook?”

“Not well,” Bail replied with a shake of his head, “but my droid is fluent in over six million forms of communication.”

“So you and your droid got Chewie to tell you…?”

“Don’t be mad at him,” Bail implored, “I told him I was concerned, that I wanted to know just how bad it was for you, because I was trying to understand what was going on and what I could do to help. I managed to get him to tell me how much you owed, and to whom. Sending the money and an agent wasn’t too hard after that.”

Han was shaking his head. He’d said it would be all right if Bail helped him out with his debts—that had been what had gotten him to agree to stick around the base to receive today’s medal. But the subject hadn’t come up again and he figured he’d be headed out first thing tomorrow to start back in on working off what he owed to Jabba.

This changed everything.

“I… I ain’t mad,” Han assured Bail, staring still at the holocron as the image of the despicable Hutt once again resolved itself into his rotating sigil. “I’m sure as hell surprised.”

“I told you I wanted to handle this for you,” Bail reminded him. “Now, at the risk of sounding a little bit selfish: I’m hoping this means you can stay with us. We’re going to have a hell of a time evacuating this place; a man with your skills and a ship as fast as that freighter you’ve tricked out could be a real boon to us during this time.”

Han took a deep breath.

These three days with the Rebel Alliance had been pretty great. He’d spent time with younger pilots, Luke included, teaching them tips and tricks—everything from ways to tweak a fuel mixture to a more comfortable way to strap in to an A-wing cockpit. He liked these people, and he believed in their cause—maybe not enough to join up and die for it, but ending galactic tyranny was certainly a more noble use of his time than smuggling spice for a Hutt.

Then again,  Han Solo had never been particularly noble.

“Viceroy, I….”

“We’ll pay you fairly,” Organa said then. “If you won’t accept a commission and a salary, then we’ll keep you on as a contractor. Fuel, maintenance, medical, and rations are on us. You name a fair price and we’ll meet it.”

“Chewie, too?” Han asked. It had been his copilot’s better nature, not his own, that had brought them back in the midst of that battle. So far it seemed most Alliance personnel were fine with Chewbacca’s presence among them, but he wanted to be sure Organa knew that he and Chewie were a package deal. If they were offering to feed and house him, but not his co-pilot, then he might have a few choice words for these rebels on his way out.

“Of course,” Bail answered so quickly Han could tell the question had taken him by surprise. “Both Chewbacca and yourself will be paid and looked after. Please. Consider it?”

Han shrugged his shoulders. This was too good to pass up. All his, Chewie’s, and the Falcon’s needs met free of charge, plus he could name his price, plus he’d get that particular satisfaction that came from working for the good guys for once.

The sound of Leia’s laughter carried over the din of the crowd then; yet another reason to stick around. That girl was like no one else he’d ever met, and he certainly wouldn’t mind the chance to get to know her better. He knew Luke had designs on the princess, and because of that he wouldn’t be doing anything to overtly pursue her any time soon, but there was no harm in seeing what developed.

“All right,” he said to Bail, shutting the gift box and pocketing it before reaching out his hand for a handshake, “You rebels have got yourselves a pilot.”

[thosewhoruleegypt]

What Followed the High Priest Home (Chapter 3)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!   Characters/Ships: Puzzleshipping/Blindshipping (Atem/Yugi); Gemshipping (Thief King Bakura/Ryou Bakura); Puppyshipping/Revertshipping (Priest Seto Kaiba/Jounochi); Atem, Yugi, Thief King Bakura, Ryou Bakura, Priest Seto Kaiba, Jounochi Katsuya Rating: M (WARNINGS for steamy fade-to-black moments, banter of a sexual nature, and some abuse of lotus wine) Length: Chapter 3 / 7; 3600 words 

Summary: 

Upon his homecoming, Priest Seto Kaiba certainly didn’t expect to find a statue of the Thief King in the middle of the palace courtyard, right where the Pharaoh’s statue ought to be. He also didn’t expect the stray puppy he picked up on his travels to follow him all the way home.

In the meantime, the Great Royal Husband, Yugi Mutou, makes a new friend, one Jounochi Katsuya, and Pharaoh Atem wonders when the power dynamics around his palace got so difficult to navigate.

Sequel to “For Love of Pharaoh and King;” “The Pharaoh’s Lotus Garden—Part I” accounts for the time between the two works. Can be read separately, but will make more sense with context.

Full Story Begins Here! Read on AO3 Previous Chapter – Next Chapter 

Chapter Three: Thief King’s Court 

The Thief King sat down heavily on the ground. "I've defeated your god, Priest Seto—I've won my pride, and wounded yours. So I won't play spoiler to your duel with Horus any longer. I forfeit."

Atem paled to an entirely unnatural shade of gray, mouth falling open, and Ryou trotted over to embrace the Thief King. Diabound, too, slithered over to its master, even as other cards—including the pendant that had hung around its neck—began to flutter down around them.

"Are you proud of me, my gem?" the Thief King murmured, his face buried in pure white hair. Ryou nodded and murmured an affirmation into his chest. Bakura laughed when Diabound nudged him in the ribs; he scratched the snake on the head. "Right? I thought so too, my friend. Thanks for the great fight."

"I'll kill him. I'll kill the bastard thief..." Atem muttered, even as Yugi trotted over to congratulate the Thief King and Jounochi ran to Priest Seto.

"Well, you won, technically," Jounochi said with a shrug, and the Priest lashed out at him; Jounochi, anticipating it, skipped backwards.

"This was no victory," Priest Seto snarled, then strode across the field to stand over Bakura. "You've robbed me of my victory, thief, and for that I won't forgive you!!"

"Robbing people is my specialty, as a thief," Bakura said, with a chuckle. Diabound, curling around him, hissed at the High Priest.

"And why in the gods isn't that thing dissolving?!" Seto demanded, flinching back as the snake stretched his jaws wide.

"He'll leave when he feels like it," Bakura said, patting Diabound's back. The snake bumped its head sideways into Bakura's ribs, and the Thief King chuckled.

Still fuming, Priest Seto turned to Atem. "I'm not pleased with this," he said darkly. "I refuse to call it a victory, in truth. But the fact remains—I'll have my rematch, Pharaoh. And you won't be able to slither out of being crushed like this filthy thief did."

"You didn't have the duel won, by the way," Bakura added helpfully. "I was down to 100 Life, but Soul Absorption was still on the field, plus Dia, of course, with Dark Pendant. You still had Luster Dragon, but it was no match for Dia. If you'd somehow managed to destroy him, before he finished you, Dark Pendant's effect still would have dealt you 500 damage, bringing you down to 100, and in my deck I still had—"

"Shut up!" Priest Seto snapped, and Pharaoh Atem said, "Enough!" simultaneously.

Bakura laughed. "Fine, fine... I'm just saying I surrendered because I wanted to, not because you had me beat. Plus, I just didn't want to see Dia hurt, after he brought down a god. I mean, that was a magnificent performance from him, don't you think?"

A fist sailed; Thief King Bakura yelped as it cracked into the back of his skull, and Diabound twisted to snap at the attacker. Jounochi Katsuya sprang backwards, crying out as the snake's fangs closed on empty air.

"You didn't beat him!" Jounochi yelled, though he kept his distance from the hissing serpent. "You're the one who gave up, so shut your stupid, ugly mouth!"

Bakura turned; gently disentangled himself from both Ryou's arms and Diabound's coils. The snake hissed, but held it's position as Bakura advanced. Jounochi, defiant, didn't retreat.

"You're his guard, or something? The dog that sleeps at Set's feet?" the Thief King rumbled, his grin twisting into a mocking curl that contorted the scar on his cheek.

"Yeah, I am!" Jounochi snapped, his fist drawing back again. In a flurry of expensive fabrics, Priest Seto was between them, and there was the <i>crack</i> of flesh on flesh as Bakura's fist met Seto's palm. Jounochi staggered backwards; thudded to the ground, and Yugi rushed to his side.

"Well hello, Set," Bakura purred. "Come to defend your puppy?"

"I've had about enough of your yapping, thief..." Priest Seto growled, and brought up his other hand to catch Bakura's free fist as it swung for his head. They struggled against one another, for a beat, and then sprang apart. As soon as there was space, Pharaoh Atem planted himself between them.

"Enough!" The Pharaoh looked smaller than usual, between the two larger men, but no less fearsome for his stature. "You've had your duel! It's been settled!"

"It hasn't been!" Seto objected. "He—!"

“It's been settled!" Atem repeated forcefully, swinging his head to face his High Priest. "I will duel you, Seto, as per your wager with the Thief King, so let this drop!"

Seto, after a defiant beat, lowered his head. Bakura stuck out his tongue.

"And so help me, cur, I'll have you whipped if you start any more trouble today!" Atem snapped, and Bakura looked duly unimpressed. "Publicly, right out by that statue you're so proud of, how about that?"

"Pharaoh, don't be nasty..." Yugi said silently, as he helped Jounochi to his feet. He squeaked, a moment later, when Priest Seto rounded on him.

"And you? Who are you? Some high-ranking serving wench?"

"That is my husband, Kaiba!" the Pharaoh said.

"He's my friend, Kaiba..." Jounochi said, at the same time, gripping one of Yugi's upper arms.

The High Priest swung from Atem to Jounochi and back again. "... The Great Royal Husband?" he asked Atem, at last, and the Pharaoh nodded.

"I know it was out of ignorance, but if you ever talk about him in that way again, I'll have you stripped of every honor I've ever given you," Atem said, seeming to have forgotten Bakura entirely. The Thief King stuck his tongue out at the High Priest again, from over the Pharaoh's shoulder.

When Priest Seto turned back to the Great Husband, Yugi extended his hand. "My name is Yugi, Yugi Mutou. I'm sorry for all the trouble, regarding your return."

"Why in all the gods are you apologizing?" Atem demanded, exasperated.

Seto inclined his head slightly, though he didn't accept the handshake. "I am Priest Seto. I am sorry, as well, but certain matters should be dealt with immediately."

"Our duel is not one of them," Pharaoh Atem said, his voice leaving no room for argument, and he appeared at Seto's shoulder. "I will honor the wager that you and the thief made, but not today. Today, you will report to me, as High Priest, regarding your mission, and then rest. We will have our duel tomorrow, and that is my final word."

Seto looked like he might argue, then lowered his head. "As you say, Pharaoh."

"Coward!" Jounochi jeered, although he still had a protective grip on Yugi's arm. The Royal Husband pulled Jounochi slightly closer as Atem's sharp gaze switched to them.

"He's my friend, Pharaoh. I stand by that."

"Why does your 'friend' mock me so, Yugi?" Atem's irritation was palpable, even without their mental link.

"Why did your cousin just call me a serving wench? I think everyone's a little confused—and a little tense."

Atem's eyes flashed. "Everyone, get out," he said, straightening his back to the point of near snapping. "Yugi, go to our room. Seto, see your disrespectful little attendant to your own chamber, then come to the throne room. And you two thieves, don't let me see you again tonight, or I may just take this all out on you."

Ryou caught Yugi's eye; nodded, and took Bakura's arm gently. The Thief King, though he'd been poised to say something—and likely a provocative something—looked down.

"Let's go, Thief King," Ryou implored, and Bakura softened visibly.

"See everyone tomorrow, then," the Thief King said cheerfully; waved. He caught Priest Seto's eye; pointed at him. "Good duel! I mean it. It was fun. I had fun! We should do it again sometime!"

Seto didn't respond, only glowered. Atem, too, sent Bakura a sideways look, and the Thief King held up his hands.

"I'm being honest!" he said, and Ryou pulled more insistently at his arm. He yielded, waving again and calling, "Good night!" as Ryou all but dragged him off. Diabound, who still hadn't dissipated, gave one last hiss before following its master from the duel field.

"Intolerable..." Atem muttered, then turned to Seto. "I'm sorry your homecoming turned out this way, Seto."

"Think nothing of it," Priest Seto sighed, massaging his forehead with one hand. With the Thief King's exit, the atmosphere between the two men eased considerably, and after a moment they grasped one another's arms; embraced, albeit briefly, and then parted.

"How are you, Cousin?" Atem asked. "Were your travels prosperous?"

"I am glad to be home," was the High Priest's reply. "And yes. Very."

"Your old chambers have already been prepared—I ordered it done before we left the throne room," the Pharaoh said. "Reports can wait. Everything else can wait, too. Why don't you go rest? I'll have food and drink brought to you straightaway. We can have a proper feast to celebrate, once this business is all settled. I've been looking forward to celebrating your return."

Seto bowed slightly. "My Pharaoh is a kind god."

"Alright! I get to see your room here at the palace, finally?" Jounochi asked, pulling slightly away from Yugi, and Seto fixed him with such a glare that he stumbled back.

"You are not welcome in my room, dog. Find someone else to tolerate your whimpering. I didn't ask you to come here."

Yugi pulled on Jounochi's arm. "Don't worry," he said softly. "You can stay with us."

Jounochi didn't respond to him, but instead stretched forward and called out, "You jerk!" even as the High Priest began to stride away. "You don't know the first thing, Kaiba! And you lost this duel today, you know that?! You had it lost, by the time that Thief King surrendered!"

High Priest Seto didn't respond, only gave another nod to Atem and vanished up the stairs. Only then did the Pharaoh round on his Great Husband and the strange newcomer. Jounochi bit his lip; drew slightly closer to Yugi.

"Your friend?" Atem demanded, and Yugi felt an insistent prod at his memories. He threw up a hasty mental wall.

"My friend, Pharaoh."

Atem's lip twitched as he pushed against the mental resistance, and for a moment the two stared at one another in silence. "Let me see, Yugi."

"No! It doesn't matter what—"

"Why is your neck bruised?"

Yugi cringed; Jounochi, oblivious to the conversation, looked at him curiously. "... It doesn't matter."

"Did your 'friend' do it, Yugi? I won't tolerate people who hurt you." 

"You don't need to protect me, like this!" Yugi objected. "There are things I can deal with, like matters of my own friends! He didn't know any better, when he—"

"My cousin doesn't seem very fond of him, either," Atem said, "and if anyone should vouch for him, it's Seto. What do you think that means?"

"I don't know, exactly..." Yugi admitted, "but their relationship isn't... I mean..."

"Their relationship is none of my business, or yours, unless it effects the goings-on in the palace," Atem asserted. "But as far as I'm concerned, the second he laid a hand on you he became my enemy."

"Pharaoh..." Yugi appealed again, but Atem ignored him.

"You cannot stay with us," he told Jounochi, who cringed slightly.

"What did I ever do to you, Pharaoh?" the newcomer muttered, and Atem took a step forward.

"Pharaoh, stop it!" Yugi appealed aloud, and Atem turned to him.

"He hurt you, Yugi!" "What else do you expect me to do, but this?!"

"I expect you to be understanding. To take the context into account. He was confused, same as Priest Seto, and things got out of hand. He didn't mean to hurt me, and he's no threat to anyone, now."

Atem glowered, but then turned back to Jounochi. "You can stay at the palace, then, but I want you nowhere near Yugi. Or me."

"Where the heck am I supposed to sleep, then?!" Jounochi demanded, and Atem looked pointedly away.

"I don't care. Sleep out in the gardens, or ask the servants if they have a spare room." He turned; began to walk away, then paused and called, "Yugi?"

The Great Husband sighed; patted Jounochi's arm, and whispered, "I'll slip away later, and we'll figure something out. Wait for me out in the courtyard. Okay? I promise." Then he trotted after the Pharaoh, calling, "Coming!" and Jounochi alone was left in the duel ring.

... ... ... 

Some time after night had fallen, Yugi slipped from the royal bed. Atem, though only half awake, felt him go and didn't object, only gave a mental order to be safe. Yugi kissed the Pharaoh's temple, then stole out into the courtyard.

Jounochi had settled himself on a little half-wall off the side of the palace; his head was tilted upwards, and he looked handsome, gazing upwards with his face bathed in starlight.

"Jounochi?"

The named turned; smiled at the Great Husband. "Why did I come here, Yugi? I'm just some punk kid. I don't belong here."

"You followed Priest Seto here," Yugi said gently, coming to stand beside the wall. He leaned in beside Jounochi. "You belong here because it's where he is—just like I belong here because of Pharaoh."

"You're the Great Royal Husband," Jounochi said dryly. "That's different."

"I'm only the Great Royal anything because Atem married me," Yugi said patiently. "I wasn't born into any of this. I never thought something like this would happen to me, not if I lived a thousand years." When Jounochi didn't respond, Yugi reached up and tugged gently on his sleeve. "Come on, let's head in. I know where we can go."

"Serket!" Thief King Bakura greeted Yugi in an unnecessarily loud voice, flinging his arms wide when he opened the door. Jounochi cringed back in surprise. "And the little puppy! Welcome!"

"Thanks," Yugi said, pulling Jounochi gently into the room. Ryou, on the bed, waved, and Bakura closed the door behind them. "Pharaoh's said he won't let Jounochi stay in our room, so I thought we'd come here."

"Of course! The pharaoh-ling Yugi is welcome at any hour, in the court of the Thief King," Bakura purred. "And his friends, too," he added, with a grin at Jounochi. The newcomer smiled weakly back.

"Sorry about him," Ryou said, from the bed. "Pharaoh sent up some lotus wine with our diner."

"The dear Pharaoh's way of apologizing, I assume, and do tell him I accept, Yugi," Bakura said, with a chuckle. He motioned to the table, still littered with roast meat and vegetables. "Are you two hungry? He sent up an incredible amount of food, too. Horus knows how to mend my wounded feelings, that's for sure."

"I had supper with Pharaoh, but I'm sure Jounochi is," Yugi said, and nudged his friend. 

Jounochi nodded vaguely. "Yeah, I... could definitely eat, I guess..."

"You should always be able to eat, kid," Bakura said, picking at some of the leftovers as he did. "Even after a splendid feast, you should be able to eat even just a bit more. That little bit more might make the difference, when you find yourself starving, the very next day. Good appetite means you've got a will to live, y'know."

"I guess... yeah, I guess that's true," Jounochi said, and sat cautiously down at the table. Bakura pushed a bowl of wine over to him.

"Drink. Relax. We aren't near as uptight as Pharaoh Horus, here in the court of the Thief King, believe me."

Jounochi kept his eyes down. "I... tried to fight you..."

"That's good, too!" Bakura said, biting down on a pork bone. "Will to live—that's what it's all about! I'd never hold a grudge over something like that. Now, if you'd tried to slip a knife between my ribs when I wasn't looking, I'd be a little annoyed. But coming right up to me and challenging me, like that? That took guts, and I respect that. We'll have to have fair fight, one of these days! One on one, snake vs dog, whatdya think? Eat up!" he urged, pushing a plate across the table. "Gotta keep up your strength. I won't pull my punches just 'cause you're a scrawny little pup!"

"Bakura, dear, you're drunk," Ryou said gently, coming up behind the Thief King and wrapping his arms around the larger man's waist. "You're embarrassing yourself, dear."

"No embarrassment!" Bakura scoffed. "This kid's a good kid! He's gotten himself good and drunk a few times, and he's gotten into some good fights before, and sometimes he's gotten into good fights while he's good and drunk! He's just a pup, but he gets it. I can tell. He gets it!"

"That's true enough," Jounochi admitted, tucking into the lukewarm meat. He mumbled something under his breath, then cursed. "Damn, palace food is too good...!"

"Palace food is great," Bakura agreed, thudding into the seat across from him and pulling Ryou off balance. Ryou struggled to keep his feet, for a moment, but was dragged into Bakura's lap with a squeaked objection. "Yugi! Pour yourself some wine! Come join us!"

The young Great Husband smiled; shook his head slightly, and returned his gaze to the window he stood beside. "I'm okay. Thanks, though."

Bakura didn't push, instead engaging Jounochi about the finer details of street fighting. Ryou, though he tolerated being held and hand-fed on Bakura's lap for some time, eventually disentangled himself and moved to stand beside Yugi. He held out a glass of wine.

"It's not the lotus wine," he said with a chuckle, when Yugi gave him a sideways look. "Don't worry."

Yugi nodded; relaxed, and took a sip. "Thanks."

"You're going back to Atem tonight, right?"

Yugi nodded.

"Don't worry about Jounochi. He can stay here, of course."

"Thanks, Ryou. You're a good friend."

Ryou smiled—a soft smile, comfortable and well worn. "Not like you, Lord Yugi. This is the least I can do."

They stood in companionable silence, sipping wine and watching the stars creep across the night sky. Some time later, the sounds of conversation between Jounochi and Bakura were drowned out suddenly by a crash, and Ryou and Yugi both turned to see them wrestling playfully on the ground, a chair having been knocked to the floor a moment before. Ryou, with an alarmed squawk, handed his wineglass to Yugi and hurried to intercede. Yugi chuckled as Ryou pleaded with his King to have a bit of dignity, and, in Bakura's lapse of concentration, Jounochi landed a soft punch on Bakura's jaw from where he was pinned beneath the Thief King.

Not long after, Yugi excused himself; embraced Ryou, and bid Jounochi and Bakura a good night. He crept through the silent, dark halls; slipped into the room he shared with Pharaoh Atem, and then crawled up into their bed. Atem gave a sleepy murmur of acknowledgment, turning over and wrapping his arms around Yugi.

"How can you sleep so soundly, Pharaoh...?" Yugi whispered, returning the embrace. Atem mumbled something unintelligible. Yugi pushed at his shoulder until he rolled over onto his back, then crawled up onto Atem's chest. "Wake up for just a second. Please?" He nuzzled into Atem's neck; kissed and then nipped at the skin. "Please?"

"What...?" the Pharaoh mumbled, reaching up and giving Yugi's shoulder a cross little shake. "Wha-what-what's so important...?"

"We're going to duel Priest Seto tomorrow, Pharaoh?"

"We're going to duel Priest Seto tomorrow, Partner..."

"Are you scared?"

"I'm anxious. I'm not scared."

"Do you think he'll challenge you for the throne?"

"I don't know..."

"Do you think we can beat him?"

"I do, Yugi. I do."

Yugi pressed his lips to the Pharaoh's; Atem kissed him in return, and wrapped his arms loosely around Yugi's narrow shoulders.

"I love you, Partner..."

"I love you too, Pharaoh..."

"As long as you're with me, there's no duel we can't win. I'm certain of it."

"Then I'll stay with you forever. And no one will ever defeat you."

... ... ...

High Priest Seto was awoken by a familiar weight at the bottom of his bed; by an intimately familiar shape crawling up over him.

"Oh great Set..." the Priest groaned; rolled onto his back as Jounochi burrowed into the crook of his neck. "What are doing here, you stupid pup...?"

"What do you think?" Jounochi's voice was breathy; labored, as he stripped away Seto's nightclothes. The High Priest caught his wrists, and Jounochi allowed himself to be held still.

"Is that lotus on your breath?"

"What if it is?"

"Palace wine can be a bit more potent than what you're used to, hmm?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

Priest Seto stretched up; kissed Jounochi, passionately. Jounochi groaned softly with the satisfaction of it.

"We have to stop doing this..." the High Priest breathed, when they parted.

"Who says...?"

"I'm the High Priest, Joey..."

"So what?"

"I said this was over, that I wouldn't do this again once I got back to the palace..."

"You've said that a lot of times..."

They kissed, again, and this time High Priest Seto was the one doing away with Jounochi's robes. They fell in a tangle of flesh, teeth nipping at skin and hands grasping for purchase. As Jounochi's back hit the mattress, he laughed cheerfully.

"This bed is something else!"

"I've missed it," Seto muttered, busying himself with marking Jounochi's neck thoroughly. Jounochi's breath caught.

"Wouldn't be as nice without me in it, would it?" he asked, with a chuckle.

Seto growled. "It certainly wouldn't be as crowded."

"Shut up."

"You asked, pup."

"But I can stay?" Jounochi wrapped his arms around Seto's neck, pulling himself up to rasp the question close to Seto's ear. The High Priest shivered.

"Just for the night."

"Just for the night."