#atuuda the cat

[howardlinkedin]

Group Project: Part 2

Running Title: Group Project. Part 2 Part 1: Here Part 3: Here Sequel to Shelter Summary: Something has been keeping Cross from being a melancholy bastard, and Kanda gets an apology from someone he honestly doesn’t even remember, but at least he finally got Alma their cupcake. Feat: Timothy wants to be like his Papa. 

While they were all packed onto Allen’s tour bus for his next concert in Barcelona, said singer/songwriter was eyeing his swear jar critically. Next to him, Timothy was mimicking him, though for likely different reasons.

“Why do I need a swear jar?” The boy asked, frowning. Okay sure he had a bit of a mouth on him, but it’s not like he had any money to contribute regardless.

“Cussing is bad and makes you look unintelligent.” Intoned the young father.  “Also, you’ll need this for when you meet Grandpa.”

“Grandpa?” “Grandpa.”

---

Colonel Marian Cross sneezed in his office.

“Bless you sir!” Hollered the greenhorn, Tokusa, as the kid ran by, arms full of documents and what looked a coffee for Colonel Nyne.

---

Link had to do a double take at the newly updated swear jar. Gone was the cut out of Han Solo, and in its place was a freshly printed and trimmed image of Spock. The blonde baker turned and gave his husband A Look.

Said husband gave a smile full of so much mischief, Link felt his ears burn.

Timothy look between both of his new parents and squinted. “What?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” Allen sang.

---

Anita Han was the owner of a corner cafe on the same block as Miranda’s and Aleister’s stores. She was proud of her little business and those who worked for her. She also enjoyed manning the counter herself most days. If Anita were one to boast, she would claim that her brewing prowess was one to be appreciated. On the other hand, Mahoja, Anita’s friend and co-owner of the cafe, did enough boasting about their store and skills for the both of them.

In her care, Anita Han also has a nephew.

---

When Allen held his first, quote/unquote, concert at the home of the Minister of Defence (who happened to be a Noah of all the things), Cross felt unfairness billow down into his bones.

It was an awful unbalance, this unfairness. It bubbled up and Cross almost let it come out, but he forced it down. Maybe he would let it all out later, after Allen had his moment and the Colonel could run away for just a moment.

The unfairness that he could watch his kid, who was all grown up and making his way in the world, but Mana wasn’t there.

It was moments likes these, when Cross would look at their son and feel the flow of longing creep up his spine.

It was also during Allen first de facto concert, under the moonlight and in the crowd of people, Marian Cross began to feel.

He also began to hear.

Where the prickles along his back would be brushed away by a familiar pressure and a fond memory would sigh that sigh that meant Cross was being his own brand of ridiculous.

“No more of this melancholy, you silly cello man.”

Ping, ping, ping goes the sound, like keys on a piano (except Allen wasn’t playing the piano). And Cross would turn, only to find no one and nothing there.

At first, he wrote it off as too much expensive alcohol.

---

Chaoji came to her all of thirteen years old, from a broken home and an even more broken heart. With him was also a baggage of prejudices that Anita Han refused to allow into her home.

“Every moment you step through this doorway, you will leave all your biases on the front step.” She instructed, unmoveable.

The young teenager scowled and looked from Anita to the world behind him, as if weighing his options. He went inside regardless.

Young Chaoji eventually learned that the person he was before wasn’t worth being at all, and that he could stay on that doorstep and take a hike.

His aunt became his new mother and Chaoji thought she was a superhero. She was calm but strong, and wherever she went, she easily called attention. Anita was a natural leader who inspired loyalty in not just wayward teenagers. Chaoji was one hundred percent certain that his aunt could tell a mountain to move, and it would.

Chaoji Han wanted to make his aunt proud.

---

There came a turning point for Chaoji Han, where he wished he could find certain people from his past and apologize.

---

Looking at their brooding husband, Alma set the pile of fabric they had for a new design on their studio table. “I thought you were going to get tea from Anita’s?”

Kanda kicked his boot into the innocent wall he was brooding upon. “Some jackass behind the counter yelled at me.”

After a heartbeat, Alma asks, “What did you do?”

“Nothing damnit!”

“Yuu.”

Throwing his hands into the air, Kanda scowled. “The creep started spewing out my name, and wouldn’t stop staring and it was weird as fuck Alma!”

Well, that was a bit odd, Alma surmised. “You said he yelled at you.”

“Yeah, after I started running out the door.” Alma’s husband said, bluntly. They both stared at one another, before Kanda went back to brooding.

Alma decided that new clothing line for that magazine could wait another day and grabbed their keys. “Alright, come on. Let’s go try again.”

“What?” Kanda looked at them, incredulous. “I’m not going back there. If you want a cupcake so damn bad call Two-Spot to mail you one from Russia.”

“They’re in Spain right now, Yuu.” “What the fuck I don’t care.”

Alma was giving Kanda that fond look they always gave, whenever Kanda was being ridiculous but they still found it endearing. “Obviously it’s bothering you, so let’s go try again Yuu.”

“No.”

They leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on Kanda’s cheek. “Yes.”

Goddamnit, Kanda thought.

---

The second time it happened, Cross was watching his brat get proposed to directly after his graduation ceremony. Besides him, Neah was hyperventilating while Road called everyone on the family contact list about the news.

Really, you go kid, Cross had thought, smug and proud (even though the other young man was related to Lvellie, but Cross was very good at ignoring things he didn’t want to deal with). There was a cheer and clap besides him, and at first he thought it was Road on the phone with one of the other Noah.

“He’s grown up so much Mary. I’m so proud.” “Yeah.” Marian breathed. “So am I.”

Wait.

Standing and looking errantly around, Cross found no one beyond the two in the bleachers with him. Road was off the phone and started to rapid fire text, while Neah was busy scowling.

Noticing the redhead’s distraction, Neah also looked around. “What is it?”

There was a breeze and if Cross allowed himself to listen well enough, he could hear a piano and a laugh. “Nothing.”

“It’s nothing.”

It had to be nothing.

---

“Helloooo Grandpa!”

Cross hung up the skype call.

It rang again, and his damn brat was still grinning like the troll that he was. “Don’t be so rude Cross. You have a grandson to meet!”

“Christ I thought the news was just making shit up.” He grumbled. “Well, let’s meet the kid.”

Off screen, Cross could hear Allen coercing the kid over. “Come on Tim!”

The screen was taken up with the face of a very curious boy with blue hair and large brown eyes. Once again, Marian Cross remembered that he knows fuck all about how to interact with children. This resulted in a staring match.

(He could hear Allen laughing in the background. “Allen shut up.”

“You are so awkward it’s sad.” His brat stated. Cross felt his eye twitch.)

“Hello I’m Timothy.” The boy finally greeted, deciding to pity this old man and lead the conversation.

“Hi.” Cross greeted back.

More staring.

(“Link. Link, this is hilarious.” Allen had stage whispered.)

Timothy squinted at the screen. “Why do you have so much hair?”

“Because. Why is your hair blue?”

“Because.”

(“Yes, why is his hair blue?” Link asked, staring his husband down. Allen whistled innocently.)

Deciding that Cross had enough social torture he could handle, Atuuda took this moment to climb his shoulder and steal the show. “Cat!” Timothy announced, suddenly excited. Said feline chirped and began purring up a storm in Cross’ ear. Loud hell creature.

Link popped his head into the window. “Ah, Atuuda.”  

At seeing her human, Atuuda went up close and personal with the computer screen and began to paw at it. On the floor, there was a demanding yip, and Cross found himself with a lapful of happy corgi.

“Tim!” Allen cheered, now in the screen. His son looked at him confused. “What?”

“No, Timcampy, our dog.” “Wait, if I’m Tim, and the dog is Tim, then who’s driving the car?”

---

“Anyway, how’s Rosemary?”

“The fucking plant ate my cigars.”

“Oh good, you are feeding her.”

Taking his cue, young Timothy crawled into his father’s lap and shoved the swear jar at the camera. “Quarter!”

Cross choked on his tongue.

---

Timothy thought his new family was very odd, but also very cool. Especially since apparently he also now had a cat AND dog. (And a man eating plant, but that’s for a later meeting).

---

The cafe` door chimed, and Chaoji gave an enthusiastic “Welcome!” Only to suddenly feel like hiding under the counter the moment he saw his two customers.

Alma Karma had made it their mission all throughout middle school to chase Chaoji off away from Kanda. Not that he blamed them now. But past regrets were only one factor that made Chaoji want to hide.

Alma was scary as hell when mad, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that Kanda Yuu was very precious to them.

Behind Alma was said precious person, who was skulking like a shadow.

The second they saw Chaoji, a dark look flashed over Alma’s face, and the barista waved his arms in the air, signalling surrender. “Wait wait! I’m sorry!” He let out.

The other customers in the cafe looked up from the coffees and newspapers, startled and curious.

“I was trying to apologize earlier, but he ran off, and I am so sorry for everything!”

The entire coffee parlor was silent, when Alma snorted and then giggled. Chaoji felt his knees go weak.

Looking at their husband, Alma flashed a glittering smile. “He’s sorry Yuu.”

“For what, freaking me out?” “...Yes.”

Kanda huffed and stalked to the counter. “Fine whatever. I want a white tea and the biggest cupcake you have.”

Stunned, Chaoji wordlessly punched the order in, giving the other man a confused look. “You don’t. Remember me.... Do you?”

It was Kanda’s turn to look confused. “I just saw you an hour ago; I don’t think I’d forget someone who weirded the fuck out of me.”

At a cafe table, Alma was laughing silently into their fist and kicking the wall in mirth.

Well, Chaoji got to finally apologize at least.

---

The third time, Anita had just introduced herself to him with one of the most beautiful smiles he had seen in a long time, and a spark in her eye that could very well excite him if he let himself look long enough.

---

After ringing up his order, she introduced herself. “Anita.”

Cross looked from her outstretched hand, to her (still very pretty) face, flummoxed. “What?”

She laughed, and Cross noted that her laugh was also very pretty. “This is the part where you give me your name and I start to flirt with you.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

---

Marian walked out of the cafe, a little star struck with a cup of coffee and a phone number scrawled beautifully across the cup.

“Oh, she’s lovely. I like her!”

Jumping, Cross cursed and whirled around, looking for that voice that sounded too much like a happy memory.

Once again finding nothing but air, Colonel Marian Cross grumbled to his car. Only to spill the entire contents of his coffee on his front when the radio station began playing a piano melody.

It was supposed to be a rock station damnit!

---

Once in Barcelona, the little family unpacked their way into their new temporary hotel suite. Timothy had quickly become shellshocked at all the flashing cameras and people vying for his father’s autograph. Taking the front through the crowd, his newly dubbed Aunt Lenalee somehow managed to split the sea of people as if she were Moses.

Little Timothy decided he was going to hold her hand, because she was cool.

“You’re cool.”

Lenalee laughed, charmed and agreed. “I know.”

Once unpacked and comfortable, Link began taking over the kitchen, which was well stocked “as a courtesy.” Link believed that his husband was simply spoiled wherever he went.

Setting out flour, eggs and butter, Link began going over his mental list of what to bake. Deciding on a cake, he began tying his apron around his waist, when he felt a tug on it. “Hm?” He looked down at Timothy who was looking up at him with all the seriousness a ten year old could muster.

“Papa.”

Link felt his heart jump into his throat.

“Show me how to make something.”

Suddenly feeling weak in the legs, Link found himself crouching at his son’s level and hesitantly patting the boy on his crown. “Alright.”

Allen chose that moment to slither over the other side of the counter bar, eyes heated. “Papa.” He sang and taunted. Link jerked himself upright and ignored his child of a husband, grabbing a chair and setting it next to the island table where all the ingredients were set. On some kind of instinct Link didn’t even know he had, he lifted Timothy up and into it. “First we need to sift the flour, then get our wet ingredients measured.”

Timothy nodded, determined to listen to everything his father was telling him.

Sliding next her best friend, Lenalee cooed and started videoing the impromptu baking lesson. “Cute, cute, cute!”

After showing the boy how to sift flour, Link let Timothy try on his own. Only for the ten year old to shake the sifter too roughly, and sent a plume of flour into the air and onto Link’s face. Lenalee began laughing and sent the video to Alma.

“I am finding you so attractive right now.” Allen stated, gaze still hot. Link only glared, ears red.

“Papa you have flour on your face.”

---

That night, Link was considering smothering his husband with a pillow.

“Papa~”

“Stop.”

“Papa, Papa. Link’s a Papa!” Allen chanted, straddling his husband on the bed, grinning like an imp. A white haired, handsome imp that Link found himself terribly attracted to.

Maybe he should smother his own face with a pillow, with how red he can feel it burning.

Throwing himself into a fit of giggles, Allen buried his face into the crook of Link’s neck.

[howardlinkedin]

Shelter - Part 11

Running title: Shelter Part 11 Summary: Alma reveals their talent for costume design and Kanda cuts things out while the story leads to the inevitable meeting with those Noah folks. Also, Allen makes a very gushy revelation to Link and Cross gets stuck in a bush.  Part 10: Here Part 12: Here

Alma dumped a pile of fabric into Kanda’s arms. “Here, make yourself useful and cut this into a feather pattern.” 

“What the fuck, why?” Kanda asked, because he had literally just walked through the door. Now that he looked around Alma’s room, it was covered in downy fabrics and piles of shredded bits. “Did your beanie babies explode or something?” “No they’re safe in the closet.” Alma corrected, because their collection took a lot of time and heart, and there was no way they’d leave the dolls out to fend for themselves whenever Kanda was about. Their boyfriend had a bad habit of wanting to cut the tags off of everything.

Beanie Babies needed their tags.

Which was not the main point at all. “We’re making Allen his first stage costume!” Alma redirected with cheer. They pointed to the stencil cut out of the feathered design they made and wanted Kanda to cut out.

Kanda looked between the fabric and Alma, contrite. He was between wanting to scowl, because why the hell does he need to make anything for the beansprout, and intrigue, because cutting out patterns for his sweetheart was probably one of Kanda’s favorite ways to waste the day away. Alma was doing that thing with their mouth and their eyes that always made Kanda give in anyway, so the other teen went to the impromptu cutting station. “Why feathers?” “Because it’ll look cool, that’s why.” Alma stated smugly.

---

Ever since Allen had met Mana, even when the child version of himself didn’t want anything to do with the man, a song had started to form in the place of his mind where the music often collected. It started out as a myriad of all that Mana made Allen feel. The frustration, the anger, confusion…

The feeling of belonging.

The longer Allen stayed with Mana, the better form the song took. It’s quality started to make sense and the notes began to adjust into something quite like a melody.

He often imagined that, if he had more time, Allen would have had the entire some completed and composed long before now.

The song itself came to an abrupt stop the night Mana left.

---

“Uh, guys?” Allan’s eyes wavered between Alma and Kanda uncertainly. School was done for the day, and somehow Allen ended up at Kanda’s place.

Tied to a chair.

Alma had a look of approval on their face while Kanda stirred a bowl of...something. All Allen knew was that it was white and smelled like glue.

He thought Kanda hated glue.

“Okay Allen, sit back and think of Link.” The tallest teen joked, eyebrows quirked while Kanda approached with the bowl. Allen began to squirm, because what now?!

“H-hold on KANDA WHAT IS THAT?! WHY-”

Tiedoll, Kanda’s father, popped his head into the room, and asked curiously. “Yuu, what on earth?”

“Don’t worry sir! Yuu’s helping me make a mask mold for Allen!” Alma practically sparkled with faux innocence.

Nodding, and seeing nothing wrong with the situation at hand, the older gentleman left. “Have fun then!”

Allen tried to bite Kanda’s hand.

---

“What is all that white shit in your hair?” Cross asked, tears of laughter streaming down his face, because holy shit. He took a picture of it on his phone and sent it to Socalo.

Considering his kid’s hair was already stark white, it was quite a sight to see it matted up in...even more white. Allen had the look of a very pissed off cat. The actual cat in their house was currently sleeping in Cross’ hat, which god fucking damn hell creature.

Allen practically threw the swear jar at his guardian’s head and stomped down the hall, presumably towards the bathroom. Timcampy, who had not stopped pitter-dancing around Allen feet since he came home, followed after.

---

Lenalee was the first to ask. Always polite and kind to a fault, Lenalee never means any harm. Regardless, her curiosity always got the better of her.

“Hey, Allen? If the Marshall adopted you, whatever happened to your parents?”

Kanda looked up from his homework that Alma was hassling him to complete. Both were also curious, but also shocked that their friend had asked out of the blue.

At Allen’s expression, she regretted asking. “Gosh! I’m sorry; that was insensitive of me! You don’t have to answer if you don’t want!”

With a melancholy quirk of his lips, Allen reassured that it was alright. “You can ask, it’s alright Lenalee.”

With his friends, he explained.

---

“Wait, so you were in a circus?” “Ha, yeah. I don’t really remember much before that.” “And the guy who was gonna be your dad was a clown? Are you serious?” “Kanda why would I lie you butt head!”

“I’m gonna butt your head right off your shoulders beansprout!”

“Yuu don’t curse it’s rude.” “ALLEN WALKER YOU GET DOWN FROM MY DRESSER!”

---

“When I was five, my parents were murdered.” Lenalee allotted. The reality still stung, but after all her years being raised by her brother, it hurt much, much less. “I’ve only ever had Komui as family.”

“I never knew my parents either.” Alma shared. “My birth parents anyway. I don’t think they could afford to take care of me, so I was in and out of foster care since I was born. Foster care sucks! But I’m okay now, with my adopted mother.”

Kanda grunted from his corner. “The old man found me wandering the streets one day. For some stupid reason he decided that I was worth his time. So here I am.”

Allen had learned that it was nice, to have friends who understood. Despite the sadness of all their combined pasts, they had found family.

---

Somewhere between waking up in the hospital to a gruff man with wild red hair, and meeting Link, the song had started back up again.

Which, for Allen was like the first breath a drowning man takes when his head breaches the surface. It had been torturous silence in that place inside of himself. Now the song was back, but the melody was beginning to change.  

With Mana, the beat of the song was steady and consistent. Allen could mimic it with the tapping of his fingers if he had wanted. It was a comforting melody, just like Mana’s hand on his shoulder.

Cross and Link had changed the melody almost entirely. It was no less a comfort than it was much like painting your room a new color. It was still the same, but different now. It excited Allen to no end.

Then came Miranda, Lenalee, and Kanda and Alma. One by one, each person added to the refrain. Even the other Colonels at the Precinct added to the song (except Lvellie. The man had a tune about as refined as a squeaking sneaker on tile).

Which, may explain why Allen had such a difficult time getting the song itself written and composed.

In retrospect, he soon learned that he was actually missing a key component to his song.

---

“My friends are embarrassing and weird and I’m firing them.” Was Allen’s greeting to his nightly Skype session with Link.

The former arched an impressive eyebrow, and moved his laptop so it’s camera was directly on Tokusa and a mutual friend, Goushi, playing a very formidable match of “Chubby Bunny,” as if to say that both of their sets of friends are embarrassing.

“Oh my gosh, I would totally win at that.” Allen states with Atuuda nestled deep in his arms, purring up a storm as though to agree. Timcampy barked from atop Allen’s desk.

“I believe the objective of the game is to get as many marshmallows into your mouth as possible, but not to eat them Walker.” Link sassed, because that is totally what Link does, Allen knows. The young man was the sassiest person alive, and no one could tell the teen otherwise. “Also, why is your dog on top of furniture again?” “He likes to feel tall.”

---

“You know, Lenalee once asked how I knew you loved me.”

Link looked downright flabbergasted on the computer screen, completely unsuspecting the turn of the conversation. He really should have been used to Allen sudden subject changes by now.

“I...see?” Link didn’t really know what to respond to this. The elephant in the room had gone purposefully unnoticed all these years, simply because Link still had no idea how to address it.

“And I gave her a really silly answer.” Allen scratched Atuuda’s ear, which made the cat chirp in praise. “But after this whole thing about...Mana’s family, I really know why now. Like, I always knew? But I didn’t notice.”

Link was belatedly aware that Allen did not state what he had answered to his friend previous on the statement. “And I am to assume your answer is a more satisfying one?”

“Yeah.” Allen blinked his clear gray eyes and smiled at the chat window. “You make me feel really safe Link. Thank you.”

---

Allen took a quick screenshot of the chat window, because never had he seen Link get so red and flustered.

---

“Alma, why is there a cape with feathers?” “Shut up Allen and put it on. It’s cool.”

---

The day of the party, Allen walked up the driveway of the very expansive and pristine mansion that belonged to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Allen began to wonder what, exactly, is his life. Especially since there was a strong possibility that the people inside were Mana’s family.

Link had came, as promised, walking besides him. Also with them were Lenalee, Alma, and Kanda - Allen’s own personal musketeers it seemed.

Also with them was Cross, because like hell he was going to let his kid do this without him. He held less trepidation, though, as he marched right up to the door and kicked it loudly. Allen jumped and hissed to his guardian. “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up.” Cross mumbled and then shouted. “Oy! Sheryl you slimy fuck! Open up! We’re here for your brat’s party!”

Allen was too mortified to demand compensation for the curse, instead thinking of just shoving Cross into the bushes to make him stop. Which, he did. “Allen what the fuck!”

Kanda took a video with his phone. Link signed, while Lenalee and Alma tried to look like they didn’t know any of them.

“Sh-shut up! Why do you have to be so-” Allen was interrupted by the door swinging open.

---

“Welcome to the party, boy.”

“AH! Gas Station Hobo!” Allen exclaimed, pointing at the man who opened the door. It was the xylophone man!

Said man looked rather put off at being called a hobo. “Well that was rude.”

There was giggling further inside the mansion, and Wisely poked his head from behind the xylophone man, newly dubbed Gas Station Hobo, looking as expressionless as he could while stating, “Petition that everyone calls you that from now on.”

“Bite me Wise.” “AH!” Allen once again exclaimed. “Wisely!”

“Hiya Allen, Link. Long time to see.” The young adult waved them all in. “Come in, come in, and thank you for accepting my invitation.”

They all were ushered inside. Cross was still stuck in the bushes. “Oy!”

---

Once inside, Allen was accosted by a rather strong hug around his middle. “Oof!” “I’m so excited to finally see you in person Allen!” Came a squeal. Oh boy, and there were now legs wrapped around him too. Excellent. Link looked particularly bothered and prickly at the situation.

Kanda kept filming.

The human koala had somewhat wild dark hair, and definitely a good head shorter than Allen. Which. Finally. Someone smaller than him that wasn’t his dog.

“Road get off of him and let the boy breathe.” Admonished the accordion hobo. Now that Allen got a good look at the man, he didn’t look like a homeless person anymore, not with the expensive suit he was wearing, or his slicked back hair. Noticing the teens stare, the man grinned and held out a hand. “Tyki Mikk.”

“Um? Hello?” Allen shook the hand.

Kanda had only just stopped taking candid videos of Allen’s discomfort when a rather tall and burly man came out of nowhere and offered Alma a candy bar. “Do you like sweets?” “Yes, actually!” Alma answered, enthused, despite the odd situation they found themselves in. “Hey asshole back off!” “Yuu don’t call people asshole it’s rude!”

Lenalee startled slightly, when two other popped out besides her. They were sniggering in unison. “Hobo and Asshole!” Said one, while the other joked, “I’m sure we can get Neah to change their names for you Wise!”

Everything seemed to be getting out of hand, thought Allen. Link managed to shoo his attack hugger - Road, away and decided standing close enough to be Allen’s very intense shadow was efficient use of his person for the time being. Which, Allen was grateful for, because he felt like he was on the slow verge of a panic attack.

“I would arrange it, but I don’t want dad to get after me when the inevitable fall out happens.” Said yet another new voice somewhere in the mansion. Allen looked towards the voice, which was at the top of the grand staircase in the center of the floor, and felt all the air leave his lungs.

His mind was bombarded with the loud chime of a grand piano, that only he could hear, and it held such an aching familiarity his bones echoed with it.

“Mana?”

[howardlinkedin]

Group Project: Part 7

Running Title: Group Project. Part 7 (End) Part 6: Here Sequel to Shelter Summary: A family can’t be a team, because with teams, there’s always a winner or a loser. With family, there are no losers. That’s what Timothy Walker believes anyway. 

Lala’s song is “Not Alone” by Otto Knows.

Link looked from their pets, to the exotic plant, to his children enjoying lunch at the counter. Timcampy was a wheezing delight at his human doppelgänger’s feet, as they boy kept sneaking the dog bits of food. Which, thought the father, the son did not need to sneak at all, seeing as Allen had been spoiling the canine rotten with human food since the day Cross dropped into Allen young arms.

Lala was absentmindedly petting Atuuda between her lunch and reading a book. The cat purred, contented at yet another human to shower her with attention.

Rosemary the Man Eating Plant, which really was just a title given to her by Toukusa all those years ago (and it stuck), well. Link just fed her a rat, so he assumed the unconventional houseplant was happy.

“Allen.”

“Hmm?” Allen shoved another sandwich into his mouth, looking at his husband.

“We have five.”

---

Lala and Timothy watched their Dad almost choke on his food, laughing up a storm. Their Papa looked downright smug.

“Adults are weird.” Said Tim.

Lala nodded. “I concur.”

---

When Timothy was seven and a half, he was abandoned on the doorstep of Hearst’s Orphanage in the middle of a cold December night, by a father who never loved him.

He was as bitter as the wind at the time.

Fast forward two years later, and Timothy gained two fathers at the same time, who will never stop loving him.

Or his sister. Or each other.

He may be young, but Timothy was observant. He saw a lot of love in his family, even he was too unwilling to outright admit it at times.

But what makes a family?

---

Cross walked into his office, late as usual, coffee in hand, only to almost spit it all over himself.

Set smack dab in the middle of the room was a brightly colored, obnoxious standee of his brat.

“What the fucking fuck?” The police officer choked.

A tell-tale jingle appeared down besides him, and the redhead looked down to see his grandson, shaking his swear jar expectedly.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Why the he-eck are you here?!” It hurt to correct himself, but damn if Cross didn’t want to lose anymore money, and stuffed the damn jar with a dollar (just in case).

Placated, the boy answered, “Dad dropped me off, saying we needed to bond.”

Marian Cross could practically hear his brat’s cackle from wherever the hell he was.

---

“Let’s go bother the nerds in Forensics.”

“Will I get to see a dead body?” “Probably. Don’t tell your parents.”

---

Once, just once, a cameraman tried to bother their way into getting a surprise picture and scoop of Allen and Lala.

The father and daughter just left Anita’s cafe, and the instant Allen saw the flash, he was on the nosey man in a second.

“Hello! I understand that you are only trying to do  your job, but could you please not do that?” Greeted the singer, all smiles and blatant charm. The would be photographer was dazed, then aghast to discover that Allen had use his left hand to crunch the camera into a pieces.

“What the hell beansprout?” Kanda groused from the cafe door, looking as menacing and as Kanda as ever. Lala had retreated back into the shop to grab her father’s friend, just incase. Said girl was hiding behind the long haired man, peeking behind his arm and glare at the interloper.

The cameraman began to sputter while Allen whipped his head around to give his friend a scathing look. “It’s ALLEN.”

“Che.” Kanda turned his steel gaze at the stranger, which if the cameraman knew Kanda, they would know that this was Kanda’s usual expression. “Go away.”

Not needing to be told twice, the stranger scampered away, crushed camera and all.

This kind of incident never happened again.

---

Since leaving France with his new family, Timothy had kept in contact with the Head Mother who cared for him during his stay at the orphan home.

They both emailed back and forth, sharing stories and the nonsense that often happens from having a diverse family or running a home for children.

“Dear Mother Hearst,” he would always begin, because if there was one thing she had taught him, it was manners.

“I have learned something really important, and I want to tell you about it.”

---

“Afternoon Colonel.” Greeted Weever, eyes weary.

Cross huffed around his unlit cigarette. “Don’t give me that look, I’m just here to see the new evidence.”

“Right.” the assistant forensics chief sighed and headed toward the evidence table, about to explain what had been and had not been concluded.

Except Assistant Gill decided to scream and pass out on the ground. Komui, being the good boss that he was, had kicked the rolling surgical table out of the way, less Gill would have had a very nasty fall.

On the body table, half covered by a film sheet, was a grinning ten year old, who was very much alive.

Cross pointed and laughed like the hooligan he was.

“Why is there a child in the surgery lab?!” Yelled Weever. “Cross!” He pointed accusingly.

The man in question was leaning on a deck, wheezing like his kid’s damned dog. “Just-” he gasped, and more laughter. “Let me have this moment.”

After the terror of the forensics lab left, ten year old hefted like a grinning sack of flour, Komui looked at his chief assistant. “That was funny.”

“No it was NOT!”

---

“Daddy.” Lala tugged her father’s white hair to get his attention. Looking upside down at his daughter from the grand piano, Allen grinned. “What’s up?”

He noticed right away she was red in the face, and pinching her fingers together. Usually, this meant that Lala had become very shy, despite being a very blunt young lady.

“There’s a song.” She mumbled, then looked cross at herself for it and tried again louder. “There’s a song I want to write. But I don’t know,” she tapered off, almost quite. “How.” 

Allen jumped up from the piano bench and engulfed his daughter in a hug, almost lifting her off feet off the ground. Almost, because as she was just mere centimeters away from his height.

She squeaked, caught off guard. “Daddy!”

“Let’s go see Miranda.” Allen said, elated and fond all at once. He knew exactly what to do.

---

He had once asked Mother Hearst what a family was, nose scrunched and mouth petulant. He was far from the only child at the Home, and all of them continuously went about wanting a family.

Timothy had no idea what that was. So he never asked for it.

“Family holds different meaning for everyone.” Hearst had answered, smoothing his wild hair back. “You will simply just have to find out what yours is.” She tweaked his nose and he blew a raspberry at her in annoyance. 

Now, though, Timothy thinks he knows.

“You see, lots of people keep saying a family is a team, like in books and movies and stuff. But that can’t be right because teams usually mean there’s a competition and there’s gonna be a loser.

But, like, with a family there aren’t any losers. There shouldn’t be anyway.”

---

Alma sprawled over their couch, flipping through what they thought were old photo albums overhead. Upon further inspection, they realized it was one of Kanda’s scrapbooks. “Yuu, did you know your books are mixed with the albums?”

“What?” Kanda poked his head from the hall, tying his hair in a topknot. His eyes widened at what exactly Alma was looking through. “No shit, put that away!”

Face turning impish, Alma began flipping through the pages with more intent. “Why, what are you hiding?” “Nothing! Put it down!”

Kanda stomped over, but was too late for a red piece of paper to slip through the pages and land onto Alma’s face. Their husband snached it away and hid it behind his back. Alma blinked. “Was that-”

“No.”

“Yuu.”

Grumbling and pink nosed, Kanda showed them.

A bit stunned, Alma gaped. It was the valentine heart from second grade! “Yuu, we both go zeroes on that!”

“Yeah.”

“It was a group project!”

“Yeah.”

“You said it got thrown away!”

“Yeah.”

It was well preserved, if not a little gaudy with all the decorations and glued on glitter. It had looked like a masterpiece in second grade, regardless.

“Why?” Alma asked, confused. They were also a mix of amusement and exasperation.

Kanda mumbled and glared at the wall.

“Yuu, I can’t hear you.”

“BECAUSE,” he shouted, then realized his tone and tried again. “It was your heart.”

---

Alma thoroughly kissed Kanda stupid into bed faster than a blink that evening.

They were so very lucky to have this marshmallow of a husband.

---

With the start of his children entering school, Link took it upon himself to join the PTA. It was the duty of a parent to help out at their child’s school, and to stay up-to-date on the events there.

For some reason, all of the mothers there kept giving him food to bring home.

“They think you’re a hot single dad.” Allen teased over the phone. He was away at yet another interview. “Trying to win your heart with their cooking.”

Link gave the tupperware of green bean casserole a frown. Suddenly, the food was menacing. He’ll just feed it to Rosemary.

“Lala’s recital is coming up.” Link decided to change the subject.

“Yeah! How is she? Is she excited? Nervous? I’m coming home in another two days!” Allen rambled and exclaimed. “Hey is she there?”

Wordlessly, Link handed off the phone to their daughter. “Yes.” she answered for herself.

“Lala!”

Timothy leached himself at his Papa’s side. “Me next, me next!”

---

Looking around the bare walls of his new classroom, newly graduated Exceptional Student Services teacher Kanda Yuu frowned. Well. More than usual.

He didn’t know the first thing about setting up a classroom.

Okay, so he had an idea. But where to start?

Alma busied themselves with unpacking his boxes of supplies. “Don’t worry. I called for backup.”

“Backup?” Kanda narrowed his eyes. “What backup?”

Suddenly Alma had yards of fabric in their hands and Kanda felt nervous.

The door burst open and in walked Chaoji, two drink carriers in hand. “Hello, I’m. Well.” He laughed nervously. “Alma said you’d need help.”

“Oy, oy little brother, this desk is shit. I’m gonna fix it.” Next thing Kanda knew, Diasya was there with a tool box. “Daisya what the fuck.”

Link walked in with a stack of baked goods and a blue haired child. Behind was the beansprout and Lenalee.

Kanda pointed at Allen. “No. Not this one.”

“Up yours Kanda.”

“I’ll shove this pencil sharpener so far up your-”

Somehow, the room got set up and decorated to fit the needs to middle school students. But not before Allen and Kanda got into a paint fight.

---

“In school, we have to sometimes do group projects. I think family is like that.”

---

Sometime during the school year, Link was unable to pick them up and Allen was away at a recording, and the city had an emergency that kept Cross unavailable.

Long story short, despite having a myriad of other people who could have come to pick them up that day, it was a strange man in a limousine, who was somehow on their school contact list (even though both children had never heard of him before) and allowed to sign them out from school.

“Call me great grandpa.” He giddied.

To which both children gave a blunt, “No.”

Lala ushered Timothy to the crosswalk while the weird man sobbed on the ground. They could just walk to the bakery.

After handing out the last of large order, Link was surprised to see his kids walk into the shop. He blinked, then frowned. “Your...Allen had called for Neah to get you. Where is he?”

Lala squinted. “Who?” “What’s a Neah?” Asked Tim, also squinting. Was it the weird crying man?

The door rammed open, a different man than the one who had come for them huffing with an enraged look on his face. “I’M NEAH.”

All three Walkers stared at the man as he roared in the entrance. “That old man fucking shoved me in the CLOSET AND TOOK OFF!”

---

Lala and Timothy gained a Neah that day, and somehow a great grandfather that they never knew about.

Though, being family meant that little Timothy could exploit the menacing looking man.

“Quarter.”

---

After a long shift at work, Anita laid on Cross’ couch and set her feet in his lap, exhausted. On autopilot, the man began to knead and rub her feet.

She groaned and threw her arm over her eyes. “I love you.”

“I know.” The Colonel said, smug.

Just for that, Anita shoved her foot against his face.

---

“Everyone gets a job in the group, and we all have to work together to make something. And it can’t be a group unless there’s at least two people.

Sometimes there’s like, five or more though.

Family is like that. It’s made by people who work together.

It’s a group project!”

---

The night of Lala’s recital, many PTA mothers were heartbroken to find that handsome Mister Walker was not a single father.

Their husband was just as handsome in his own right, even with the shocking white hair.

Timothy thought his Dad looked weird with the fake glasses, but whatever. He understood that Allen needed to disguise himself, otherwise people would disturb the show, wanting an autograph or sneak a picture.

Of course, Lala sang beautifully.

---

It’s a long, long way to a miracle, Just to let you know,

You’re not alone.

---

Allen smiled at his son, who was attempting mouth the words to Lala’s song. He looked up at his husband who looked just as proud has he felt.

The music around them bowed and flowed in the air, and if he could see it, Allen knew it would be gleaming.

Ping, ping, ping went a piano, and Allen found himself no longer admiring the flood of music. There was no piano on stage, just Lala and her voice.

His ears tickled and Allen looked around the room. He knew that sound.

Noticing a familiar silhouette by the theater windows, Allen felt his heart go to his throat.

The memory beamed and waved. And when Allen blinked back the water in his eyes, it was gone.

“Allen?” Link asked. “What is it?”

The singer cleared his throat, “Nothing.” He turned to his husband and curious son, face splitting from the joy in his smile. “I remembered something, that’s all.”  

---

It's a long long way to miracle But I promised my soul that I'll make it back home.

---

“That’s what I think a family is.

Also, Mother Hearst, you’re part of it too. Thank you for being the first person in my family.

Love you, and junk. Timothy.”

---

“Mother? What is it?”

The older nun sent the email to the printer, tears running down her warm face. “Don’t worry dear. I just need to wash my face.”

What a lovely beginning.

[howardlinkedin]

Group Project: Part 6

Running Title: Group Project. Part 6 Part 5: Here Part 7: Here (End) Sequel to Shelter Summary: Homecoming! (And Komui is a lovable mess, please keep him well fed). 

“Sometimes,” said Pooh, “the smallest things take up the most room in your heart.”

The brother would read to the sister, tucked away at his chest. She would yawn, signaling that she was halfway to dreamland, and the brother couldn’t help but agree.

---

Let it be known, to all who walk this earth, that Allen Walker is a troll.

His family, his friends, and even his fans; no one is spared. Especially his fans, whom the majority follow his instagram page.

The most recent? A photo of the family’s luggage being unloaded at Barcelona’s El Prat airport. Instead of three (Allen’s, Link’s and Lenalee’s), adult sized suitcases, there was another set of smaller, children’s sized cases as well.

“On our way home!” the tagline read.

Within the hour, multiple sources had the image posted on their networks, demanding to know all about the picture and its details.

---

“You really shouldn’t tease like that.” Link admonished, as his husband switched his phone to airplane mode. Said husband shrugged and grinned. “Everyone’s going to know eventually. I’d rather it be on my terms.”

“Know what?” Timothy demanded, more than ask, as he leeched himself at his dad’s side. Lala looked from over their Papa’s shoulder in curiosity.

Allen squeezed his son. “That I have the cutest kids in the entire universe!”

Lala rolled her eyes, while Tim preened. “Yeah, I am really adorable.”

The boy got embarrassing smooches all over his face in public for his ego.

“Blarg! Dad, stoppit!”

---

At 7AM, Cross knocked the alarm off his bedside table and burrowed deeper into the sheets. Atuuda, having become Allen’s small-white-haired substitute, leaped onto his back and began to kneed at it.

The Colonel cursed the creature to hell, but in his half awake state, it was more like his voice became a garbage disposal of words.

A tap sounded off his table, and Cross could smell the familiar aroma of black coffee. “It’s time for all old men to wake up.” Flirted a voice. Cross cracked open an eye.

Anita stood over him, already dressed for the day, a wheezing small dog at her feet. It took the man exactly eighteen blinks before his brain came back on, and he could actually focus on that beautiful smile of hers.

“I am not old.” He groused.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Anita tweaked his nose, then turned heel out of his room, Timcampy following with pattering feet. “Breakfast is ready, by the way.”

After glaring at his doorway with a very wrinkled and offended nose, Marian finally managed to get up and out of bed. Why was he always surrounded by morning people? It was a curse.

Sipping away at the perfectly brewed coffee (a perk of dating a cafe owner), he plopped himself down at the table, not before giving Anita’s crown a morning kiss and a very bleary thank you for cooking.

---

The first morning Anita stayed over at his, she laid down two ground rules:

After every meal she cooks, she is to be given a thank you. No gratitude meant all of said food will end up on your face, your ass on the floor, and the dog trying to eat the mess up.

Cross was not allowed to kiss her mouth until after he’s brushed his teeth.

Cross wondered if his morning breath was truly that bad, or if he just always ended up falling for people who were particular about dental hygiene.

---

Komui Lee was a prodigy. At fourteen he graduated high school, and soon after began taking college level courses online. By the time he was 17 (going on 18), he had gained three science degrees, (pre-med, microbiology, and biochemistry) and a sister.

Just after submitting his application for the forensic science track, Komui Lee held little newborn Lenalee Lee in his long awkward arms, and fell in love.

This was the moment he became a brother.

“As soon as I saw you,” he would read to her at bedtime. “I knew a grand adventure was going to happen.”

---

Making his way to his car, to hassle himself to work, Colonel Marian Cross stopped short to observe the moving trucks just across the street.

“Huh. Someone’s moving in.”

---

“Sir, you need to get off the floor.” Assistant Forensics Chief Reever nudged his boss with a foot. Said boss was laying face down on the tiled floor, spreadeagle.

“What if the plane crashes?” Komui asks, voice deadly serious, but its effect diminished due to his current, physical state.

Actually, it was always hard to take the man seriously, what with the pink bunny slippers and constant state of emotional disarray.

The Assistant Chief rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, as though asking for strength to handle the drama Komui would bring in this morning. “Okay, I’ll bite.” He crouched down in an attempt to look at his boss in the eyes. “What plane?”

Glasses flashing, Komui frowned something fierce. “Lenalee is coming home!” Reever felt a headache coming on, because this was the smartest man he knew, yet Komui insisted on sounding like a pouting child.

In an attempt to defuse the oncoming storm, Reever attempted a cheerful, “That’s great! We’ve really missed her!” Which was the truth. The science hub of the Precinct, and those affiliated with them were liken to a mishmash of family, Lenalee included.

“But!” The Lead Forensics Chief whined. “Thirty-six hours is sooooo looong!” The man squirmed on the floor. Reever wondered when it was last mopped.

“And what if the PLANE CRASHES?!” Komui bellowed.

“It won’t.” Deadpanned the other man.

This is when Komui grabbed his friend’s face with both hands and forced the man to lean down, nose to nose. “But what if it does?”

Reever deduced it was going to be a long thirty-six hours in both the Forensics Department and the Lee household.

---

“Komui, it’s my lunch break.”

“But Bak-”

“No.”

“BUTWHATIFTHEPLANE-”

Bak Chang turned off his cellphone.

Only for his classroom phone to begin ringing.

---

The second image Allen posted to his account was that of the back of Link’s dozing head. Another set of blond and a smaller blue-fading back into brunett heads pillowed on his shoulders. Allen’s own head peaked in the corner of the image, mirth in his eyes.

“Sleepy family waiting 4 our luggage!!!!!!!” said the tagline, followed by a string of emojis.

Later Allen would insist that, yes, that many exclamation points were necessary.

---

Lenalee was five and she couldn’t stop crying. Komui feels their world crash around them as he signs for full custody, and his heart mourns for them both.

Komui is 22 when he and Lenalee are orphaned, and suddenly simply being alive was a lot more dangerous than previously believed. He had just entered into his internship through the college.

Over the course of mere hours, he had become not just a brother, but mother and father as well.

His sister cried for the both of them.

Haggard and broken hearted, Komui read Lenalee to sleep- because even when distraught, the little sister always, always fell away to sleep at the sound of her brother’s reading.

“If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart. I’ll stay there forever.”

Only after Lenalee fell asleep, did he let his tears fall.

---

Chaoji served his ten-o’clock her mocha and cookies, and watched as she seated herself across from a very engrossed Kanda. Besides him, which was a rarity during his studies, was Alma.

At any given moment, whenever it looked like Kanda was about to bolt, scowl set across his mouth, Alma would yank their husband back. They would give him A Look, and Kanda would very wisely sit back down and continue working.

“Fucking hate math, why do I need this shit for this degree.” The man would grumble and curse, complaining that he was never going to use it.

Or less of a complaint, and more of a vow to never touch the math ever again.

Apparently, Chaoji deduced, Kanda Yuu hated math.

Miranda hesitantly slid her cookies over to the younger man, serious set in her shoulders. “W-work hard Kanda!” She stuttered and encouraged.

Kanda looked from the cookies, to his computer screen, to Alma’s unflappable gaze and let out a noise that Chaoji could only describe as a very angry cat. He watched as Kanda stuffed a cookie in his mouth (Kanda! Of all people! The man who hates anything sweet!) and continued to attack his computer with fever.

---

Staring at the armful of streamers that had been thrust into his arms, Bak arched his full eyebrows at his boyfriend.

“What, no welcome home kiss?” Bak asked, part sarcasm, other part insulted.

Komui pranced by the smaller male, kissed his forehead and flounced away, a long banner following after his tall form. “Welcome home boo-bear! Now put the streamers up in the hallway!”

For the boo-bear comment, Bak Chang dropped said streamers on the ground, because no. He crossed his arms and waited.

It wasn’t as though Komui needed his help anyway, what with the entire forensics hub crawling around his house, decorating the place from the ground, up.

Around the hall’s corner, Komui slowly slithered around, looking for all the world like a wounded child. “Baaaak.”

The middle school chemistry teacher stared the taller man down, waiting.  

“The most wonderful and brilliant Bak Chang, please use your amazing and magnificent knowledge and skill to help me prepare my humble home for precious Lenalee’s return.”

Reever, who was dutifully tying ribbons around balloons, snorted.

Suddenly becoming decidedly altruistic, Bak sniffed. “I guess I can help. You’ll be useless without me anyway.” “Yes!” Komui was practically sparkling.

---

At first, Reever just thought the greenhorn Forensics Chief was actually an idiot who got lucky.

The man always scrambled in through the elevator doors, just two second shy of being late to work. His hair was in a constant state of distress, and it seemed that he owned no shoes except pink, rabbit eared slippers.

When Chief Komui Lee wasn’t inhaling mug after mug of coffee, he was working. If he wasn’t doing either of those things, he was falling asleep at his desk, paperwork piled about.

If Assistant Chief Reever Wenham hadn’t witnessed his boss’ skill first hand, he would believe Komui only got this job through connections.

The rest of the forensics hub was of the same belief. Until they weren’t.

On one such day, when Komui had face planted at his desk, dead to the world until the next investigation, the elevator doors opened and closed. From his desk, Reever saw no one, and wondered if Cross was playing prank on them again. (Last time had resulted in the sprinkler system giving off orange spray)

Instead of Cross and his shenanigans, Reever heard the pitter-patter of little feet. Johnny, who was on the other side of the desk, looked downright delighted. “How cute!” his assistant whispered.

Peering over, Reever laid witness to a little girl, no older than seven, make her way to his boss’ prone form. She had a serious pout on her small face, and a determination in her gait. She was pretty adorable, Reever conceded.

But also. Why was there a little girl in their labs?

This was probably unsafe.

Said little girl had an equally little backpack over little her shoulders, and when she reached the slumbering man’s desk, she whipped it around and pulled out a lunch bag. Dutifully, but quietly, she slid it atop a stack of papers. Nodding, as if satisfied, she put her little hands on her hips and spun around to march back to the elevators.

Stunned, and unable to make heads or tales of what was happened, Reever made a move to follow the little girl. “Um.” He started.

Gasping, the girl jumped, and stared at the man, her dark eyes wide.

Huh. Thought Reever. She looks a lot like the boss.

After an awkward staring match, the little girl bowed. “Please make sure he eats thank you bye bye!” She gave in one breath.

And zoom! Out she went.

---

After that, Reever and the rest of the forensics hub made sure their floundering boss was well fed.

The second time they all were graced with the little one’s presence, her nose was red. Komui, who refused to look embarrassed, announced matter-of-fact, “This is my precious sister princess Lenalee and she has a cold.”

And that was how Lenalee Lee was formally introduced to the Forensics Department, and everyone began to understand why their boss was the way he was.

Apparently babysitters were hard to find on such short notice, and raising a little girl on your own was more than enough of an excuse to be Komui’s particular brand of loopy.

“We didn’t know we were making memories,” their boss had read, stuffed in his office chair, towers of files pushed off to the side, book and sister in hand. “We just knew we were having fun.”

And, okay. Reever decided they made a cute picture. Neglected paperwork notwithstanding.

---

Kanda stared at his computer, expressionless. Which, as far as Chaoji knew, was par for course for the other man.

“I’m done.” He announced.

Kanda Yuu, on this day in history, passed his final math exam. 

Ever.

Miranda clapped her hands, while Alma peppered kisses all over the man’s face. “I’m proud of you.” Another kiss. “So,” they punctuated with another kiss. “Proud of you.”

Kanda took each and everyone one of them like a man receiving a badge of honor.

“Goodness!” Anita rounded the cafe bar to the group. “Wasn’t that you’re last course?” The man grunted in assertion.

Clapping her own hands, the cafe owner looked pleased for Kanda. “Congratulations!”

“Wow!” Explained Chaoji. “You’re graduating college!” After watching the young man come in and out of the cafe, studying away, it was kind of a moving experience to know he had accomplished his goal. “What were you studying for, anyway?” Asked the barista.

With Alma practically in his lap, Kanda looked Chaoji dead in the eye and answered. “Special Education.”

That. Was unexpected. But also cool, in a totally Kanda kind of way. When Chaoji got to thinking about it, Kanda working with children, and helping them, well.

It made sense.

Miranda looked as though she were to cry. Kanda began to look horrified. “Don’t cry damnit!”

“I-I’m sorry. It’s j-just. This is a very happy day!” She wiped her almost-tears away. “Kanda is graduating after working so hard, and I just found ou-out this morning that I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Then.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

Alma let out a squeal. “I’m going to have a nibling!”

---

When Noise Marie got the news, he passed out on the lawn.

Daisya laughed at him for hours, while Tiedoll weeped for joy at his growing family.

---

The third picture Allen, singer/songwriter, posted on instagram, was of two little feet sticking out from under a pile of blankets.

“Little guy is all tuckered out. Can’t wait for our new home!”

Explain! The world demanded. We want to know! Blogs posted.

Link watched the internet virtually explode over his phone and harrumphed. His husband really knew how to cause a stir.

On the mattress stacked on their loft floor (a makeshift bed for all four of them until they could get settled in their new house) said husband was cuddled between their two kids, beaming. “A dream is a wish, your heart makes.” He lullabyed.

Crawling under the blankets, Link hoped and promised to make the dreams of  their children come true.

“When you’re fast asleep.”

---

Have faith in your dreams and someday Your rainbow will come smiling through No matter how your heart is grieving If you keep on believing The dream that you wish will come true.

---

“Welcome home Lenalee!” Everyone chorused.

Confetti popped into the air, and Johnny may have accidentally stepped on a balloon, and in the center of the commotion Komui held his arms out, looking as expectant and jovial as ever.

Lenalee laughed, heart happy. “I’m home!”

---

Timothy yelled in excitement at the sight of his new home. There was a yard!

And windows! Was it normal to be excited over windows? The boy decided it didn’t matter. They were HIS windows now.

He was going to have his own room!

“AAAH!!! This is AMAZING!” Timothy ran inside, eager to investigate.

Already inside, Lala avidly began to inspect every corner.

Across the street, Colonel Marian Cross gaped, shellshocked.

Link took pictures with his phone, while Allen waved. “Hello neighbor!” He sang and mocked, like the troll he was.

Seething, the officer demanded that the brat had better take the piano this time!

---

“ ‘How do you spell love?’ ” read the brother.

“ ‘You don’t spell it...you feel it.’ ” concluded the sister.

[howardlinkedin]

Group Project: Part 1

Running Title: Group Project.  Part 1 Part 2: Here This will be a short sequel series to my previous story Shelter. Please read that before you tackle this, otherwise it may be confusing.  Summary: Allen Walker once told Howard Link that he wanted five children, while Kanda Yuu demonstrates that his memory is selective, but at least he knows that Alma likes cupcakes. 

Love stories don’t end at the first kiss, confession or even marriage. When the love is given right, the story will in fact, never end.

---

When Allen Walker was 17, he looked right into Howard Link’s dark eyes and declared that he wanted five children.

Link, 21, snorted. “Honestly Walker, you’re child enough as it is.” He countered. The younger would only huff and pout, until Link set a batch of freshly baked cookies on the table.

---

It started with Timothy Hearst.

Link was less surprised that his husband brought home a child, and more so at the fact how easily attached he himself became. Which in itself was surprising, as Link believed he should at least be fussing over the former fact, because Walker you can’t just bring home random, homeless children and expect it to be alright.

Except that it was alright. In its own way.

---

The night after Link first met little Timothy, Allen said, “Link I want him to be ours.”

It was the conviction and determination in Allen’s silver eyes that melted away any doubt Link may have had. It was a heavy next step, but.

Link took hold of his husband’s hand and squeezed. “Alright.”

(Allen Walker always got his way in the end. Or rather, Link was simply unable to deny his husband anything.)

---

Somewhere, where the moon shines brightest, the fondest of memories smiled while the stars glitter to the tune of a grand piano.

Something is starting, and it was all very exciting!

---

“Walker, where are you going?”

“Eh? To the adoption agency!”

“...It’s the middle of the night, wait until the morning.”

Allen huffed and flopped himself down on the floor as though he were the ten year old, while Link rolled his eyes and carried young Timothy to the guestroom of the suite. The boy had began nodding off after dinner.

After tucking the boy in, Link had a sudden epiphany and ran out to the hall. “Walker!” He hissed.

Rolling to his stomach to stare at his panicking husband, Allen raised his brows. “What?”

“Does the orphanage even know where Timothy is right now?”

Oh. Well heck.

Just then, their suite entrance opened to reveal a very scathing Lenalee Lee. “Allen! Do you know how long I have been looking for you!” Scolded the singer’s best friend, and only bodyguard. Allen had forgotten that he had snuck away before finding Timothy.

Double heck.

---

That is how three adults carted one sleepy ten year old across Paris, in the middle of the night, to Hearst Orphanage.

The headlines of French newspapers were very interesting the next morning.

---

Despite the nonsense, Mother Hearst agreed to meet with the couple the next afternoon. She looked about as impressed as a brick. “You wish to adopt Timothy?”

Allen, in all his charming and smiling glory, nodded. He was amping up the charm more than usual it seemed. The Nun looked even less impressed. From Allen’s shocking white hair, to the sleeve of tattoos that danced on his left arm, it was a wonder the woman even let both men into the room. Truth be told, Link himself felt unease about the situation. 

Not about Mother Hearst’s reaction. If she denied them this, Link new that Allen would get his way in the end; because even though she looked less than pleased at them, his husband only radiated confidence.

Link was more unease about his own reaction. After six years of marriage, Link learned that he would do a frighteningly lot for his husband. (Even before then.) He also really did not want to take on a faction of the Church.

“Misters Walker. I believe you can understand why I am weary of this whole situation.” Started Mother Hearst. “For one, you are both strangers to us and yet you say you want to adopt one of our own?”

Link nodded. He could understand her suspicion. Allen was a very suspicious individual.

Perking up even more, Allen asked attentively. “What would you like to know?” As though simply playing a game of twenty questions would make this process more at ease.

Before the Nun Mother could comment, the meeting room door slammed open to reveal a flustered young woman. Link guessed she had been running, if the state of her disarray were any indication. “Is that-! Allen Walker?!”

The Nun looked positively cowed, while Allen stood in greeting. “Oh are you a fan? Hello!”

“Now - wait just a-” Mother Hearst attempted to make order of the situation, but was interrupted by Link setting the file case he had brought along on the table. “What?”

“I took the liberty of bringing any legal and background information you would need to review to help the adoption process move smoothly.” Link stated, a gleam in his eye. Because of course he had come prepared. 

The moment little Timothy shook his offered hand the morning before, crumbs on his face and mouthful of Link’s pie, Link started to plan.

It also helped that all Allen had to do was text a certain Noah Heir a picture of the ten year old and ask, “Want to be a great uncle?” and all paperwork ever needed for an adoption was faxed to them within the next hour.

---

“Hey Tim.” Allen said, grabbing the boy’s attention. Timothy looked at the man with owlishly wide eyes. “Why are you here?!”

Instead of answering, Allen grinned toothily. “Want to be part of my family?”

The boy blinked. Then looked to the left, then the right as though he didn’t know where his eyes should go in a moment like this. His little nose scrunched up and Allen wondered if this was how Mana felt all those years ago.

The feeling of, yes, I adore this little person, please let me love them.

Allen held out his hand.

And Timothy took it.

“You’re so cute.” The soon to be father cooed. “I am not!” Denied the soon to be son, trying his best not to let his tears fall.

Mother Hearst watched them both and thought well. That’s that it seemed.

---

“Our family’s getting bigger Mary.”

Cross looked around his kitchen, wine bottle pausing mid-pour into a frosted glass. All he spotted was the cat. “Was that you?”

Atuuda only chirped and rolled onto her back.

From the dining room, the Colonel heard his guest call for him. Writing it off as nothing, Cross went to his guest with their glasses of wine. “Coming Anita.”

“You should see this news feed about Allen.” His date grinned and he could see mirth in her eyes. She held up an iPad with said article.

“Cinderella Story For Little Boy: Allen Walker Adopts!”

“Oh my fuck.”

---

“Congratulations Father. You’re a Great Grand Papa now.” Neah declared out of the blue, and set a file on his father’s desk.

Scrambling to flip it open, the Don of one of the most notorious and feared mafia’s began to weep. “He’s adorable!”

---

After finalizing all the paperwork, Link arched his impressive eyebrows at the name on the document. “Timothy Hearst?”

Allen leaned into his husband and hummed. “They were close, and Tim wanted to keep her name. She’s important.”

Nodding to show he understood, Link tucked the document away safely. “We will have to stay in contact with her then.”

“Already way ahead of you. We’re practically pen pals now!”

---

Half a world away, Kanda Yuu steps in line at a local cafe. He thinks about getting tea and some of those overly sweet cupcakes Alma likes so much when he spots the barista, who looks downright gobsmacked.

Not that Kanda notices, mind, he has tea and things to get done. “I want a large white tea and a-”

The barista cuts off his order by stuttering, which wow, rude. Kanda glared. “What!”

“You!”

“How do you know my name?!” Kanda demanded, guard rising.

The other man shook his head. “No! I mean you! As in Y-O-U! But you’re Kanda right?”

“What the fuck, do I know you?”

“It’s me! Chaoji Han!”

Kanda continued to glare. Well, it was more like a glare-stare. He was really just staring the other man down, but his natural countenance being as it was, meant it looked like a glare. Chaoji looked nervous, but was determined not to break the hard gaze.

After a solid minute of silence, Kanda breaks it. “Who?”

[howardlinkedin]

Shelter - Part 14

Running title: Shelter Part 14 Summary: I just love happy endings, don’t you? Part 12: Here Part 13: Here

THE END.

shel·ter

ˈSHeltər/

noun a place giving temporary protection from bad weather or danger.

---

Life is full of storms. Both literal and metaphorical. A shelter can be the home one retreats to get dry from a sudden downpour. It can also be a place of safety after a terrible day, where comfort is found.

A home is a place where people reside, and are welcome. A home, incidentally, can easily be a shelter.

Shelter can be meeting the young woman who owned the repair shop, who was so inherently kind, that your heart couldn't help but flutter whenever you hear her voice.

It can be the greenhouse across the street, filled with beautiful and exotic fauna, ran by an eccentric, but not unkind man with a rather wobbly smile.

Shelter is the home for a young man who struggles with understanding the majority of the world and how it works, but they are endlessly supported by a father and brothers who were willing to guide him.

Or it’s said young man, who became the rock for another, who needed that extra push to become who they wanted to be.

It’s stepping out of the elevator, and seeing familiar faces who always greet you with warmth and welcome, while your brother becomes ecstatic at your presence.

For a lonely little boy, shelter was a clown who didn’t stop laughing. Shelter was the love the boy continued to feel long after his father left. The assurance that he would never be alone again.

---

At the recording studio, Allen took a calming breath. He could do this.

His eyes caught Link on the other side of the sound room, and smiled bright. He definitely could.

Lavi, at the recording booth, gave him the signal. “Right-o Allen! Ready in 3, 2, 1!”

Allen finally, finally sang his song. It was about time.

---

I could never find the right way to tell you

Have you noticed I've been gone?

'Cause I left behind the home that you made me

But I will carry it along.

---

When the song officially released on mainstream radio, it quickly hit the top five charts. When Allen got his cut of the profits, Lenalee looked over his shoulder at the check and whistled. “If this keeps up, you’ll be set for life!” She declared.

From the dining room, Cross snorted. “He was set for life the moment he took out that damned swear jar of his.” He made a point by stuffing it with a quarter without prompting. “Cussing is bad manners Cross.” Allen retorted. “What are you going to do with all that money anyway?” Lenalee asked, scratching Timcampy behind the ears. The little dog wiggled with joy. Allen looked thoughtful as Atuuda demanded to be picked up with a meow. He answered as he hefted the large fluffy feline into his arms. “I was thinking about a tattoo. For my arm.” The index finger of said red arm booped the cat on her pink nose. Atuuda chirped and swatted her tail in his face.

While Lenalee looked excited about the idea, his guardian squawked from the other room. “TATTOO?” “Cross it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

--- Marian Cross was less irritated about his kid wanting a tattoo - because he honestly did not give a single steaming hot damn if he did, and more so that all these years, he was basically being conned by a child to fund his need for ink. Mafia or not, Allen Walker would have fit right in if he had wanted.

---

And it's a long way forward, so trust in me

I'll give them shelter, like you've done for me.

--- Across the city, at the Central Building, Madarao held appointment with Head General Hevlaska Karma. He stood stiff and at attention in his suit. Hevlaska raised her brows at the young gentleman, “You do know, that there is a selection process I have in place, for choosing my intern from the University Mister Madarao.” It wasn’t a question. All the same, Madarao gave his assent. “Yes. I am aware General. Regardless of your choosing myself as your candidate, I also believe what I have compiled will be of great help for you and your police force.”  He set a neat, and ordered stack of files on her desk. They were all dated, and color coated by tabs. The leader of Central’s largest and strongest police firm steeped her hands together, assessing first the files then back to the young man who had been requesting for her ear for the past month. “And how will this assist me Mister Madarao?”

So he told her. ---

At eighteen, Allen graduated high school. Arm in arm with his best friend, he and Lenalee marched off the stage, diploma in hand. “Congratulations Miss Lee.”

She laughed. “Congratulations Mister Walker.” At the floor, they spotted their family and friends respectively. Alma and Kanda, who had graduated the year prior, were there. Alma was waving them down rather enthusiastically, hand holding Kanda’s. In Kanda’s free arm, he had Timcampy, who seemed content at being held like a limpet. “Congratulations!!” Alma hollers, and hugged them both. The new graduates laughed. In the bleachers, Cross puffed smoke from his cigarette and glared balefully at the man beside him. “Why are you here?” He outright demanded. Neah stuck his tongue out at the redhead. “Did you forget that Allen is my cute nephew? Have you gotten senile in your old age?” “I am not old you goddamned-”

“Ah-ha! Language! There’s innocent ears everywhere.” Chided the Campbell, wagging his finger as though Cross were a child to be scolded. Cross snorted. “They’re all teenagers. Since when are teenagers innocent?” Behind them, Road pressed her heeled shoe into Neah’s head. “Will you two shush! I’m trying to get good audio with the video and no one wanted to hear you old man bantering!” “Road you’re practically my age.” Said Neah, ignoring her foot on his head. She decided to kick him then. Cross pointed and laughed. --- Link presented Allen with a bouquet assortment of colorful flowers. “Crowley had arranged them. He attempted to explain their meaning to me, but...I was unable to completely follow.” Link frowned, as though admitting he was unable to outright memorize something was a slight against himself. “Regardless, I was assured they are positive in their meaning.” Taking the offered present, Allen was certain he was smiling like an idiot at that moment. (Later, Kanda would state this as a fact, quite bluntly too). “Best boyfriend ever.” The blonde cleared his throat, Allen notice that his ears were red. Lenalee looked between the two with an “o” expression and took a respectful few steps back. She had a feeling this was going to be a rather important moment. “Not boyfriend.” Link started, rather awkwardly. “But, fiance, if you’ll have me.” He gestured to the top of the bouquet. Behind them, Alma squealed outright into their hands, and began shaking Kanda’s arm. Kanda looked unimpressed with Link, because he didn’t understand why the had to be so flustered about it. Everyone knew it was a solid Yes.

With wide silver eyes, Allen finally spotted the velvet box set on the flowers. He looked between the box, then Link in rapid succession. At first his mouth gaped open, as though he was going to speak, then he would snap it closed. Instead he hugged the bouquet to his chest and grabbed Link by the ear with his free hand and gave away both of their firsts kisses right then and there.

In the bleachers, Neah screamed a rather loud “WHAT?!” While Road let out a yell of excitement. Cross sat back and looked smug. You go kid. Lenalee was taking pictures with her phone.

Pulling back, Link looked rather dazed. Eyes wide and blinking slowly, his brain caught up with the moment. “I-”

Allen kissed him again. “!!”

---- “You never actually said yes.” “Oh my gosh Link shut up and get back to kissing me.” Link shut up and went back to kissing him. ---

Allen Walker discovered that he really, really, really, really liked kissing.

--- And I know, I'm not alone, you'll be watching over us

Until you're gone. --- Next, Howard Link, twenty-three, graduated college with high marks and his degree. Allen celebrated with him that night with a song and homemade chocolate cake. Eventually, his uncle called him in for his own congratulations. “I’m very proud of you Link.” Lvellie praised, looking every bit smug. Link nodded. “Thank you Uncle.” “It just so happens that there is an open position here.” His uncle preened, waiting for Link to show any sign of ascension to the idea. Arching an eyebrow, Link inquired. “Position?” “Well yes! You will be working for you dear uncle, won’t you?” Really now! Thought Lvellie. As though he wouldn’t hire his own flesh and blood. After a pause to gather his thoughts, Howard Link takes a step forward, and presents his uncle with his degree. “I am sorry uncle but I believe you are under the impression that I wish to work for you.” Lvellie stared openly at the embossed, framed paper, uncomprehending. “You see, where you believed me furthering my education with criminal justice, I actually gained my degree in business management, along with a minor in culinary.” “C-culinary?!” The Commissioner choked. “I have spoken with Mother and Father and they have granted me access to part of my inheritance so that I may open a bakery.” Lvellie looked white with disbelief. “But-” “I am sorry that your plans for me were not what I wanted.” Link was honestly anything but sorry; regardless it seemed to be the only thing he could say on the matter. Tucking the frame under his arm, Link bid his Uncle good day and started for the door. “Oh.” He paused and turned around to address his uncle once again. Lvellie was still gaping like a fish out of water. “Also, In half a year’s time, I will be binding myself to Allen Walker. Please look for the invitation, should you still be free and out of prison at that time.” With that, Howard Link left the the office. “Prison?!”

--- When I'm older, I'll be silent beside you

I know words won't be enough

And they won't need to know the names or our faces

But they will carry on for us.

---

A month later, Malcolm C. Lvellie was arrested and marched out of the Precinct for withholding and tampering of evidence for the Guilty Murders, therefore placing him in suspicion for working with the Cardinal. The Cardinal who, ironically (and still uncertain how and by whom) was found murdered. It would later be revealed that Lvellie himself knew all along who the murder was, but held the information away for himself, hoping to find the right moment to reveal it all. His goal was to manipulate the circumstances enough that Head General Hevlaska Karma’s ability to lead Central would be scrutinized enough, that Malcolm would be chosen to replace her. Standing besides Head General Karma was Madarao, newly accepted intern, who watched passively as the man was taken away by police car. He decided that he would call Lavi, and inform him of his new location. The hyper red head would certainly be ecstatic at having himself closer to home.  Lavi needn't to fear over any more mafia nonsense now that Madarao had his foot in the door. 

Colonel Yeager crossed his arms, and huffed. “Good riddance. I never liked that man.” Claude Nyne watched Cross walk back into the Precinct and gave her own affirmation. “You’re not the only one.” Inside, Marian Cross kicked down Malcolm C. Lvellie’s ex-office door, and flipped the desk over. Socalo, the curious and nosey bastard, poked his head in. “What the shit?” Marian tore a framed important something or other off the wall and threw it across the room, into the other wall. It shattered. “Either you join me or fuck off Winters.” Ever the one to enjoy chaos rather than run from is, Socalo joined in on defacing the office.

--- Soon, the Precinct found itself under a much needed overhaul of staff. The majority of the forensics and tech department was left virtually untouched, but some officers had been let go or left due to further investigations of Lvellie’s misdirections as Commissioner. Froi Tiedoll walked into the now bard Commissioner office, looking surprised at the dents and holes in the walls. “Oh my.” He hoped whatever happened in here was therapeutic enough. “Welcome out of retirement, new Commissioner Tiedoll.” The man hummed and smiled with his eyes over at Colonel Nyne. “Thank you Colonel. I do believe I feel a good change in the wind.” The policewoman nodded, and turned to address her own new intern. “Tokusa, help the Commissioner get proper office equipment.” She ordered. Newly graduated Tokusa bolted upright, babbling. “Yes sir! Ma’am! Madam.” “No.” “Yes….Colonel?” “Better. Now hup to!” Tokusa turned heel to find out where he can get a desk and chairs. --- Tiedoll hung a picture of his sons on the wall, looking proud. One his desk was a framed photo of Kanda and Alma, dressed in white.

--- And it's a long way forward, so trust in me

I'll give them shelter like you've done for me.

--- “You don’t have to call to wake me up every morning you damned brat.” Colonel Marian Cross grouched into his phone. He was currently waiting in line at a coffee shop, hoping to fuel his need for liquid energy. Ever since Allen went on his tour, he still took time to call Cross and bother his ass about his morning routines. He swore his kid got a sick enjoyment out of it. “Are you at that cafe again? Cross I thought you got a new coffee maker.” His kid ignored his previous statement and chose to instead nag him on other things. “Correction, you got me a new coffee maker and it busted.” Just two more orders and Cross would have the excuse to hang up on his child. It was rude after all to talk on the phone while ordering.

“How can you bust a Keurig?” “Correction, it busted on its own.” He grumbled. “Riiiight.” Thank the Lord it was his turn to order. “Look, kid I gotta go. Fuck off and nag that husband of yours instead.” He heard Allen snort on the other line. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Bye Cross. Talk to you tomorrow.” The Colonel found himself grinning, despite his bravado. He was fond of the little shit, and will always be fond. “Whatever, leave me alone you brat.” Allen laughed before hanging up. His barista looked at him, an amused look in her dark eyes. “Brat?” Marian huffed. “My kid. He’s a brat.” And that’s all he would rather say on the matter. It was hard to bring up that yes, he has an adult child, and said child happened to be Allen Fucking Walker, singing sensation. Last time he let it slip out, he had nuisances at his door for a month. He strung his order to the (very pretty, but Cross always noticed pretty things so this wasn’t too surprising) barista. After ringing up his order, she introduced herself. “Anita.” Cross looked from her hand to her (still very pretty) face, flummoxed. “What.”

She laughed, and Cross noted that her laugh was also very pretty. “This is the part where you give me your name and I start to flirt with you.” “Oh.” Oh.

---

Years later, Allen Walker, 24, walked through the streets of Paris. He had just slipped away from Lenalee that morning after doing an interview about his upcoming concert in the city. His best friend and sole security would most definitely be lecturing his ear off later over this, but sometimes he needed time to himself. With a green beanie hiding his very noticeable white hair, and thick sunglasses that he hoped were dark enough to keep his anonymity, Allen wandered aimlessly. If someone had told him as a kid back in the circus, that he would be a singer songwriter, whose name was practically known by everyone, he would have been disbelieving.

Then he would try and pick their pockets. He digressed. There was also the whole, married and in love thing. Child him wouldn't have even been able to comprehend.

He was about to wander to a crepe stand, his stomach thinking for him with anticipation, when he heard it. The sound was high, and distressed, and young. It had all the potential to reach lower notes, but at the moment it’s owner was rather stuck on piping out the high tones. Allen would recognize the sound for what it was anywhere, no matter what notes it played. Allen Walker followed the sound of a distressed pipe organ, away from the crepe stand and into an alley between the buildings. It was still the middle of the day, so the ally itself wasn’t in anyway dark or ominous. Along with the organ, Allen heard tell tale sounds of a foot kicking a trash can. “PWEEEEEEEEE!!!”

Oh, now that was a very distinct cry, Allen thought. He never heard someone actually produce their sound verbally before. Kicking the trash can in the alley was a young boy, Allen guess about nine, maybe ten. He had wild brown hair that looked like he had tried to dye the ends with blue kool-aid and wore an orange jumper with frayed jeans. “I’m so mad I’m so mad!” was the boys mantra. “Why are you mad?” Allen asked, kneeling next to the angry boy. Said boy was startled and made a wild swing at Allen head. “AAAAH!!”

--- After whopping Allen, the kid ran off. Only a little winded, Allen followed after, undeterred.

He felt a vague sense of deja vu, and grinned.

“Hey wait!” He called after. ---

“Why won’t you leave me alone huh?!” Demanded the angry boy.   Allen shrugged. “I don’t want to.” The boy looked at Allen like he was the most bizarre person he’d ever met. Which, may very well be true. Allen would admit that he was indeed, very odd.  Link also took joy at pointing it out to him. Regularly.

“Well get lost!” The boy stomped his foot. “I don’t need some weirdo following me around!” “How about you tell me why you’re so mad, and maaaaybe I’ll leave you alone.” Allen weedled. The kid looked unimpressed at this. “Maybe.” he repeated. “Yeah. Maybe.” They both had a stare down. Allen more amused while the boy simply refused to back down from the impromptu staring contest. Eventually, there was no winner, as the boy’s stomach used this moment to growl rather loudly. Allen’s own stomach felt sympathy. “Are you hungry?” The boy, who looked like wanted to cry again, but was holding it back, only glowered.

---

Howard Link, 28, came back to the rented suite he was staying at with his husband, arms full of bags of fresh bread and boxes of pastries. He had been taking his time in Paris to sample and buy all the baked goods he could, and seeing if he could garner new recipes. It was a very riveting experience for him. He was also certain that Allen had been enjoying all the fresh eats he kept being with him. “Welcome back!” Allen called. “We’re in the kitchen.” “We?” Link asked. Was Lee here as well?

The blonde made his way into the suite’s kitchen, and instantly noticed the boy making headway into the pumpkin pie Link baked that morning. Sitting beside him was Allen, who waved his fingers cheerfully at his husband, his own plate sparse save for the pie crumbs left behind. “I see we have a guest.” Link lead. Allen patted the boy on the back. “Yeah! This is Timothy. Say hi Tim.” “He’wwowoooo!” The boy, now Timothy greeted best he could with his mouthful. Link nodded, and set down the baked goods in his arms at the counter. He went over and held out his hand. “Hello Timothy, I am Link. It’s a pleasure.” ---

And I know, I'm not alone,

you'll be watching over us.

Until...