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something-tofightfor · 1 year ago

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The Truth Is Out There: Unrequited

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Art Conservator/Restoration Specialist FBI Agent

Word Count: 3,260

Chapter Rating: M (language, mention of sexual situations, Marcus' past is brought up)

Series Warnings: Sex Pollen (with a twist), no use of Y/N, female reader insert, Reader works for the FBI in art restoration/conservation and has a nickname that is used often by Marcus. In this house we cannot stand Teresa and Jane and that is reflected in this story.

Summary: You're not quite satisfied with your friendship with Marcus Pike - because you'd like it to be more, but you'll take what you can get. A middle of the night confession from him sets things that neither of you could have ever imagined into motion... will your friendship make it through unscathed?

Author’s Note: This is an idea that I had last month that I couldn't get out of my head. This chapter is mostly setup, but it's still important. Thank you to @myloveistoolittle and @lilipads for reading through some of this for me and giving me some feedback - I really appreciate you!

I'm challenging myself with this story in a few ways, so it'll be fun to see how people like it.

One chapter will be posted daily until the completion of the story. Smut chapters will be marked individually and on the masterlist.

Inbox is open, as always. Thank you for reading!

“Thought you were on a date, Scully.”

The sound of his voice made you jump, but the startled feeling only lasted until you spun in your chair, facing him. “I was.” You gestured to your outfit. “Can’t you tell?”

Marcus’ smile widened for a few seconds as he nodded, stepping away from the doorframe and into your office with his arms crossed over his chest. “I can. You look great. So why are you sitting in your office at 2 in the morning, and not …” He faltered briefly and then cleared his throat. Interesting. “...not tucked into bed with or without company?”

There were a variety of ways that you could have answered. But they all stuck in your throat as you looked up at the way Marcus’ features softened under the glow of your desk lamp. “Wait, it’s 2? How the hell…” Looking away, you grabbed for your phone, gasping at the confirmation that it was actually that late. “Shit. I didn’t think I’d been here that long.” Groaning, you rubbed your temples with one hand, eyes closed. “I got here at like 9:30, I had no idea it got so late.”

“You need to get up.” He said your name, the sound low, and then you felt his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. You fought the urge to lean into his touch, instead focusing on the paperwork in front of you. “C’mon, let me buy you breakfast. Whatever you’re doing can wait ‘til Monday.”

“Nothing’s open.” You sighed, pushing the papers away. “If it wasn’t so late, I’d say yes, but -”

“I know a place.” He squeezed your shoulder again and then let go, backing away to give you room to stand. “You’ll like it, I promise.” Turning to face him, you finally looked at Marcus, giving him a small - but conspiratorial smile.

“You’ve never steered me wrong before when it comes to food.” Smoothing your shirt down, you scoffed. “So if you say you’ve got somewhere good, I believe you. Am I following you?”

“It’s actually right by your apartment.” Marcus raised a brow, one hand going to his hip. “So I’ll follow you, and then we can walk over?” You had no idea where he was planning on taking you, but with a final look at the pile of papers on your desk, you agreed. Wherever we go has to be better than staying here.

After turning the lights off and locking your door, you followed Marcus down the hall toward the elevators. Neither of you spoke, but comfortable silences between the two of you were common. Even though I don’t know why he was at the office so late.

You and Marcus said goodbye when you reached your cars, the question of why he’d been in the office so late left unasked. Only a few moments later, you were pulling out of the garage and turning toward your apartment - hoping that at least one of the guest parking spaces were available at such a late hour.

To your surprise, there were plenty. Leaning against your door while waited for Marcus to exit his car, you glanced up at the sky, focusing on the few stars that you could see through the clouds. “Ready?” His voice startled you again - but so did the press of his hand against your lower back, warmth evident through the thin material of the shirt you wore. “This way.”

As you made your way down 18th, you figured out where he was taking you, cutting the man off in the middle of a sentence to confirm. “Tacos, Pike? Just what I needed.”

“You know, you’re really gonna need to tell me about this date once we order.” He elbowed you gently, the smile back on his lips. “If some greasy late night breakfast tacos are what you need, then it must have been really bad.”

Not quite. You stayed quiet, keeping pace with the man. And when you’d joined the short line of people waiting to order, he put his arm around you, keeping you close. But this isn’t helping.

You’d been to Surfside more than once, but for whatever reason, you always forgot that it was open 24/7 - and that after 11, they switched over to their breakfast menu. You’d only been there one other time with Marcus, though - for your second date.

He’d put an arm around you that night, too, the man pressing a cautious but very welcome kiss to the side of your head as the two of you talked over the menu. You knew that there wasn’t going to be a repeat of the gesture that night, though. Because we decided it couldn’t.

The two of you shuffled forward, placing your order at the window. Marcus swiped his card before you could even reach for yours - and you knew better than to question it. “Do you want to grab a table while I wait?” He spoke into your ear, breath warm. “That way when the food comes we’re not out of luck?”

You agreed, stepping away from the comfort of one of your closest friends and toward an open table, taking a seat and pulling your phone out. There was a text message from Alec - sent hours earlier, and you hesitated before swiping it away without answering it. I don’t know what to say.

Marcus wouldn’t pry, but you knew that he’d ask again about the date, as he had so many times before. And like I’ve asked about his dates. Biting down on a knuckle, you stared out at the street and the cars that were passing, but you didn’t get to zone out for long.

“Good thing I’ve got these for you, otherwise you might chew off your own hand.” Marcus grinned as he slid a to-go box and a drink cup toward you. “Grabbed a bunch of extra napkins, too.” He lowered himself into the seat across from you, pushing his sleeves up to expose his forearms.

For the first time, you noticed that Marcus was dressed like he’d spent the day lounging around his house, which was a stark difference from the way you usually saw him at the office.

It wasn’t that you’d never seen him in a casual outfit before - you had, plenty of times. But that night, the long sleeve t-shirt he had on had a faded logo on the front, and the neckline and sleeve hems were worn and slightly stretched. So why the hell was he in the office? “Now I feel overdressed.” Taking a bite of your taco, you smiled around it. “You asked why I was in the office so late tonight, but I should be asking you the same thing. You obviously came in later, and -”

“I’m taking tomorrow and Monday off.” He took a bite, too, shrugging. “So I wanted to wrap up as much as I could because I didn’t want to be swamped on Tuesday.” Marcus sipped his drink. “Last minute decision, but it was approved already, so…” He trailed off, eyes on you. “What about you? You said you got there at 9:30? How the hell did you work for five hours without realizing it? We’ve got nothing big right now, and your side of things could have definitely waited until Monday to finish.”

“I went out with Alec tonight. We’ve been talking for a while, and our schedules finally lined up.” You took a long drink and then wiped your fingers on a napkin, crossing your arms. “I let him plan it all. It was supposed to be dinner and then drinks somewhere, and he said that he was really excited to meet me. I was looking forward to it, too.”

“You said that.” Marcus eyed you, a slight frown on his face. “So what happened?”

“He was nice, and he was exactly what his pictures showed, so…” You shrugged. “I thought it was going to go well.” But I was wrong. “We went to dinner, and the restaurant was … really fancy, Marcus. One of those places where you’re hungry even after a ten course meal, and where if you talk over a whisper it’s too loud. And he never told me to expect that, so I showed up dressed like this, and it wasn’t … I looked so out of place.”

“He didn’t warn you?” Shaking your head, you finished a taco, using your thumb to wipe sauce from your lower lip. “Was the food good at least?”

“Oh, everyone else’s food looked amazing.” At that, you grinned, though it was to hide your annoyance. “But I didn’t get to order.” He questioned you wordlessly, the man’s mouth full as he chewed. “When we sat, he told me he’d already taken care of the meal, and that he put our order in early.”

“A preset menu? That can be a lot of fun.”

“No. He just decided what we should have before we even got there.” The man’s eyes widened, both of his hands flattening against the tabletop. Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. “Including drinks. I never even saw a menu.”

“What the fuck?” You snorted at the shocked expression on his face but only nodded, sipping through your straw. “Who does that? Did you even eat?” He took another bite and your eyes followed the movement of his tongue as it swept over his lower lip, his gaze locked with yours. “I know how you get about things like that.”

“I did. And the food was alright, but it wasn’t what I wanted.” You gestured to the remnants of your meal. “This is way better, double the amount and it was like a quarter of the cost.” He grinned at that, Marcus’ nose wrinkling. “But the longer we sat there, the more I realized that I didn’t really want to be there. I also didn’t want to go and drink with him and give him any false hope, so …” You drummed your fingertips on the tabletop. “So I faked a call from work and said that they needed me immediately, and as soon as dinner was over, I left.’

“That’s cold, Scully.” He winked at you. “But I get it.”

“It was.” Dropping your napkin into your empty box, you closed it and then leaned back in your seat. “I definitely don’t think we’re on the same page, especially when I asked him what he’d do on a second date…. And he said that he already had one planned.”

“Some women like that, though.” Marcus shrugged. “Not having to plan things themselves, and having a guy that takes initiative.”

“Marcus, there’s a difference between the way our second date went where you said you had some ideas and then let me pick what I wanted to do, and with him where he said he wouldn’t even give me a hint because he didn’t want to ruin the surprise. I get that he’s probably got good intentions, but it’s just not … what I’m looking for.”

Swallowing the last of your drink, you eyed Marcus, waiting to see what he’d say and hoping that bringing up your date with him hadn’t been the wrong call. “I guess there is a difference.” He cleared his throat. “I never really thought of myself as a good date planner, but coming from you, it … makes me feel a little less like a failure.”

“It should. People would be lucky to date you, Pike. I know we only went out a few times, but I definitely felt that way.” You hadn’t talked much about the end of your unestablished and completely undefined relationship after the initial decision. In fact, the two of you often actively avoided it in an attempt to keep your friendship intact. And it has to be that way because I’m not losing him.

“Thanks for saying that.” He rubbed at his cheek slowly. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t had much luck dating here, either.”

“It doesn’t. I know why you’re hesitant, Marcus, but I really hope that you keep looking. You’ll find someone eventually.” And I’ll hate watching it happen.

“So will you.” He leaned in, lips parted, and you saw in his expression that there was something that he wasn’t saying. What is it? Spit it out, Pike. “There’s… another reason I’m taking the next couple days off.” Oh? Cocking your head to the side, you rested your cheek on one hand, waiting. “Teresa’s going to be in DC tomorrow night, and she asked to see me.”

“What?” You spat the word out, sitting straight up. “What, Marcus?” Your heartbeat quickened as the man nodded, closing his eyes. It’s been a year and a half since they last saw each other, what the fuck does she want with him now. “Isn’t she … didn’t she marry the -”

“She is. She did. She’s coming here for a seminar, but it doesn’t start until Tuesday, so she said we should get lunch on Monday, and I agreed.” Of course you did. Despite the fact that he’d just bought you a meal and flirted with you in the way you’d come to expect from Marcus Pike when it was just the two of you, he was sitting across from you and telling you that he’d taken time off of work to meet with his married ex. I can’t believe this.

“Why’d you even stop in my office then, Marcus?” Biting down on your lip, you shook your head in annoyance. “To bring me here, to a place where I have a happy memory with you to talk about her? Do you think I’m going to be excited for you? Do you think I’m going to look you in the eye and say ‘yeah, Marcus, that’s a great idea to spend time alone with the woman that fucked you over so hard by using you to make a coworker jealous that you nearly quit your job?’” You pointed one finger at him, letting the hurt into your voice. “You told me that you and I couldn’t be anything more than friends because you needed to get over her for good first and you didn’t want me to be a ‘learning experience’ while you tried to do that.”

“I meant it. You deserve more than that.”

“And you don’t?” You stood then, holding your hands out in front of you. “Marcus, I understand the need for closure, I really do. She was important to you, and I get it, but she made it very clear where she stands. She married another man. She broke up with you over a voicemail after she agreed to marry you and move here with you. She mailed your ring back to you. She doesn’t deserve a single second more of your time, and I know that you know it. You’ve come so far since you got to DC, and if she sets you back by showing up and summoning you, I’m going to be pissed.”

“It isn’t your decision to make.” He straightened his shoulders, a little bit of anger in his eyes as he locked them with yours. “I -”

“It’s not my decision, no. But as your friend? I’m still telling you that it’s a shit decision, and all it’s going to do is hurt you even more than this has for the last two years.” You pointed in the direction of your apartment. “Thank you for the tacos. I’m going home now. Please don’t follow me.”

His expression changed from anger to shock, and when you stepped past the table and toward the sidewalk, he reached out, his fingers closing around your wrist as he said your name. “Wait.”

“No. I’m going home. I have nothing else to say to you right now, because if I do, I’ll regret it later. It’s only a few blocks, I -” Your skin burned where he touched you, the simple gesture making you angry as well as sad, but you forced yourself to look at him again. “Let me go, Marcus.”

He did - moments later, after squeezing gently. And then nodded, closing his eyes. “Will you at least let me know you made it home? Just a text or a -” Goddamn you for being so genuinely concerned.

“Yes. I can do that.” You waited a beat, trying to figure out something else to say - but when you couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t mean, you kept moving toward the sidewalk and away from where he sat, eyes straight ahead as tears gathered in the corners of them.

Marcus had been the one to suggest that the two of you put a halt on the romantic aspects of your relationship, and because you’d understood how hurt he still was over Teresa, you’d agreed. Not happily, but I did it.

Friendship between you had been fast once he’d arrived in DC, even before the few dates you’d gone on - casual dinners both in the office and out, seeing movies together, binging TV shows when you both had a completely free day, or needed to unwind after a particularly hard case.

He’d given you the nickname Scully after you’d made it through three seasons of The X-Files, a show that Marcus had never seen more than an episode or two of prior to watching it with you.

He compared your no-nonsense approach to the type of work you did and the matter of fact way you approached even the most puzzling of cases to the agent’s behavior in the show. He’d mentioned more than a few times that in a lot of ways he was like Mulder - wanting to believe in the unexplained, especially the causes behind the behavior of others like the criminals you chased down and the cases you worked on a daily basis.

But if we really were like them, we’d end up together. You waited to cross the street, eyes on the traffic signal. And I don’t think that’s going to happen. Not as long as he was still hung up on Teresa, and even less likely after you’d gone off on him in front of a crowd of people because he’d caught you off guard by saying she was going to be back in his life, even for a short time. I shouldn’t have done that.

You crossed the street and tried to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to steady your thoughts. When you rounded the corner to your street, you caught movement out of the corner of one eye, a familiar man’s shape following about a half block behind you. Of course it’s you, Marcus.

Passing his car, you unlocked your front door and stepped into the lobby, the heavy glass closing behind you with a definitive click. You waited until you were inside of your actual apartment to pull your phone out, sending him a quick text - as promised.

I’m inside. I know you already know that though.

You peeked out from behind your curtains, catching a glimpse of Marcus as he stared up at your window. The man caught your eye briefly and nodded once before he looked away, disappearing into the shadows. Goodnight, Marcus.

He wouldn’t reply to the message. And he’d give you your space, too, even though you hadn’t explicitly asked for it. Because he’s a good man.

And Marcus being such a good man was only one of the many reasons you’d fallen so hard for him - and why being unable to do anything about it hurt so much .

—

tag list reblog coming soon!

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x female reader #the truth is out there #the truth is out there masterlist #writing #masterlist #marcus pike masterlist #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal masterlist #tag list reblog #the mentalist fic #the mentalist marcus pike #pedro pascal is marcus pike

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somethingtofightfor-shares · 11 months ago

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Tag list reblog part 3:

@lilmizmoz @trickstersp8 @trinkets01 @withakindheartx @writeforfandoms @xocalliexo @alitaar @yourmiracles @afuckingbeetroot @1andthesame @greeneyedblondie44 @girlofchaos @bangaveragewhitewine @shadesofnerdlygrace @the-rambling-nerd @hauntedmama @raspberrymama @vonschweetz

Frankie:

@amb11 @crookedwraiths @galaxyofmando @afootnoteinyourhappiness @wildmoonflower @lowlights @eccentricdreamer45 @crazysouthernlady @jedifarmerr @jk7789 @joelsflannel @kirsteng42 @littledragonlady @luvmeijii @ophelialoveshandsomemen @soaronmywings

@justanotherkpopstanlol @a3trogirl @theluckyplaces @ms-loverman-066 @rebel-fanfare @portgasdtrancy @zanzann @iceclaw101 @fiscinthirst @evasblackcoffee @painitemoondust @xlovingheartsx @yespolkadotkitty @hocuschlocus @janebby @mysteriouslyfuzzypeach @lumenseal @maladaptivemando @rominaszh @t0fudaddy

Tags didn’t work Liminality:

@chronic-nosebleed @scorpiowidow @stardustsophia @Karlawithacapitalk @Bookwoman1492 @loveslide @brittmb115 @Hiddlebatchedloki @knopewyattworld @Noisynightmarepoetry @ofallthechemicalboys @Oursisastragefate @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @Professionalpromqueen @Racetrackheart @readiskeepingmegoing @dessinemoiunehistoire @Javicstories @Quica-quica-quica@startrekkingaroundasgard @booksaremyyoga @blackirisesinthesunlight @Severin817

Liminality: Part 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,210

Rating: M. This one is a LOT of plot, but there's some violence / weaponry / language in it

Summary: Flying with Frankie is everything you hoped it would be - and so much more.

But the longer you're in Tampa, the more you begin to question what you're doing ... and what you're not telling him.

Confirmation on your reason for choosing Tampa comes at a cost.

Author’s note:

There was a very long delay, but lucky for you, I've got 2 more full chapters written after this ... they just need some editing, so I am well ahead of where I want to be with this one. I promise this chapter will have a follow-up VERY soon.

If you have any questions or comments or just want to talk about Frankie, please feel free to reach out. I'm SO INTERESTED in any theories you may have about where this is going, too.

... Sorry about the cliffhanger.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

He made you watch a short video presentation about helicopter safety before you stepped out onto the tarmac.

But instead of being stock footage, it was Frankie himself going over the parts of the aircraft, and Pope demonstrating the things he was saying while someone - you assumed one of the Miller brothers - filmed with an only slightly shaky hand.

You bit back a laugh when you realized what you were watching, bending an elbow and leaning forward to look at the TV screen, chin resting on your palm. I can’t believe this. “You’re going to miss something if you laugh.” Frankie paused the video and murmured the words from where he was standing, leaning against his desk with both arms crossed over his chest and the remote held in one hand. “And then I -”

“Frankie, how do you expect anyone to pay attention to anything when the two of you are explaining it?” Glancing over at him, you scoffed. “Two of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen in my life explaining how not to trip over the skids and that I can’t vault myself into the helicopter by holding onto the door? I -”

“Well you retained that information, so it must have worked.” He raised a brow and then pointed back at the TV with one finger of the remote hand. “Now pay attention to this next part, it’s important. Also, it took us like five takes to get it right because we were both laughing so hard.”

The video started playing again and you watched Frankie demonstrating the harness checks, showing off just how securely passengers were fastened into the seats. Pope could probably strap himself in in his sleep. That was likely why they’d been laughing, but in an attempt to follow Frankie’s instructions, you kept quiet and focused on the screen, eyes on the way that even though you could tell it was awkward for him to be on camera, Frankie’s enthusiasm for flying shone though with every safety rule he explained.

When the screen went dark, you were quiet for a few seconds and then turned your attention back to the man, grinning. “If you ever decide you don’t want to be a pilot, Frankie, I’m pretty sure that you’ve got a future in -”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, standing up straight and setting the remote down. He’s embarrassed but I can tell he likes it, too. “Beats havin’ to give that same talk four times a day. Cuts down on wait time before we can take off, too.” He pointed. “Usually I have a guy out there getting things ready so all we’ve gotta do is walk out and get in. But today, it’s just me.”

“Why?” You stood, too, watching as he gestured for you to follow him toward a small set of lockers. “Won’t you need someone to -” He opened one of the lockers and you slipped your bag off from over your shoulder, sticking it inside. “To help get us off the ground and all that?” He shook his head and when you stepped back, spun the dial of the combination lock to secure it.

“We’ll still have ATC. That’s all I need.” He put his hand on your shoulder and when you met his eyes, Frankie winked at you. “We’re good. I promise.” You trusted him, and so when you stepped outside and he locked the door behind you, you didn’t ask any questions. “You ready?”

“I’ve been ready.” Grinning, you made your way toward the waiting helicopter - both doors open but firmly attached - Frankie directly next to you. The walk was short, and when you stopped next to the open passenger door, you felt his hand on your back, guiding you forward. “Just get in?”

“Yep.” He pushed, clearing his throat. “Go ahead and strap yourself into the front seat and then I’ll give it a once over.” You were acutely aware of his eyes on you while you settled, pulling your phone from your back pocket and reaching over to set it on Frankie’s side while you buckled in.

You concentrated on what you were doing, wanting to impress him - and once you had all three straps fastened, you looked over, raising a brow. “Go for it, Morales. Tell me how I -” He moved while you were still speaking, stepping closer to you and reaching out with both hands.

He was focused on what he was doing, too, but you were focused on him - the way his fingers deftly checked the straps and buckles, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips, the movement of his eyes as he assessed your status and safety. But he stayed quiet, even when he tugged on a strap to tighten it over your chest, and especially when his hands moved to your waist, fingers dipping beneath the harness to ensure it wasn’t too tight.

“You did good.” He finally finished, raising his head to meet your eyes. “Not too loose, not too tight.” Your smile broadened at his praise, lips parting as you prepared to speak, but he didn’t let you. “I’m 80% positive you won’t fall out.”

The smile turned into a scowl, one hand rising to shove him away, but Frankie caught that hand, fingers curling around yours and squeezing. Your breath caught in your throat when he lifted that hand toward his lips, but before he could kiss them, he froze, his eyes going wide. He let you go so quickly it was like you’d burned him, Frankie shaking his head back and forth as he stepped backwards, his fingers closing around the door handle and pushing it shut. I hope he didn’t see how disappointed I am that he stopped.

He disappeared moments later, walking around the back of the helicopter, and you realized he was taking a few extra seconds to compose himself. Shit. He didn’t need to stop. He … You heard him swear, though the sound was muffled, and when the man appeared by the other door, you saw resolve in his eyes. “I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t professional, and I -” Oh, Frankie.

“You don’t need to apologize.” Shrugging your shoulders, you pointed. “Can you hand me my phone, though? I don’t want you to sit on it.” He looked relieved as he did what you asked, passing you the phone - which you tucked between your knees - before taking his seat and reaching for his own harness straps.

He was quick with them, the muscles in his arms flexing and once again capturing your attention. But you were unprepared for him to turn his head toward you, tongue running along his lower lip before he spoke up. “Sunglasses?” Shit, I knew I forgot something in my car.

“They’re in my glovebox.” You sighed. “Whoops.” He grinned, reaching down and unzipping a pouch between the seats. “I’ll be alright, Frankie, I -”

“You’ll need ‘em. Trust me.” Frankie nodded, holding out a pair of aviators to you - black lenses with gold frames. You took them from him and slipped them on, turning your head to the side and watching him put on a second pair. “You look better in those than I ever did.” So he’s still flirting, but … “And then you’ll need to put these on, too.” Frankie reached for one of the headsets near the console, passing it to you. “Otherwise we won’t be able to talk while we’re in the air.” He reached for his set then, his gaze breaking away from yours.

Settling them over your ears, everything was muffled, but only moments later, after he started flipping switches and pushing buttons, you heard Frankie’s voice again, talking to what you assumed was the airport tower and beginning preflight communication. Getting comfortable, you leaned back in your chair and waited, your excitement building.

The almost-knuckle kiss had been a blip on the day, but Frankie seemed to have recovered as he settled into a routine that he’d done countless times before, his confidence filling the small space that you were sharing.

“You ready?” He looked over, the man’s smile infectious. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Ready.” You held up your phone. “Can I take a picture of y -”

“I’ll take one in the air for you.” He nodded, and though his eyes were hidden behind tinted lenses of his own, you knew that the corners of his eyes were crinkled. Wish I could see that. “Alright, here we go.”

There were a few seconds of shakiness as you rose off of the ground, the whirring of the blades above your head thrumming through the helicopter. Things evened out as you gained altitude, everything beneath you growing smaller except for the expanse of water, the surface of it glittering in late afternoon sunlight. “It’s gorgeous, Frankie. You leaned forward as much as you could with your restraints, eyes on the view in front of you, but you were speechless.

You’d been on aerial tours before, but you hadn’t done it over water, making the experience entirely new for you. “It is.” He nodded, the motion visible in your peripheral vision. “We’ll head north so you can see the skyline and a couple of the parks and then circle back around west to the Bay.”

You agreed, turning you camera on, and pointing it toward the windshield. For the next few minutes, you focused on what you could see - the buildings growing larger and closer, the scenery whipping by beneath you, and Frankie’s hands on the control stick and collective. He was in full control, and you were in awe of it, managing to sneak in a couple of pictures of him with the others you took. “On the right’s Lower Hillsborough, and then on the left, the other side of the highway?” He gestured with one finger, jutting his chin out. “Cypress Creek.”

As you approached, you felt your heart sink. They’re both huge. I’ll never be able to narrow it down enough. It was beautiful though, the greenery stretching out almost as far as you could see. “I didn’t realize they were connected.”

“Yep.” He nodded, glancing over at you. “And there’s a campground at Hillsborough where Benny’s buddy does the tours from.” He pointed. “Starts up north, and comes down back toward where we are.” Good to know. You made a note in your app and then set your phone down, keeping your eyes forward. “It’s a lot of fun. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will.” You paused, thinking. “Since it’s Benny’s buddy, does that mean he’d be going with me?”

“If you want.” Frankie looked over, shrugging. “I already told you, we’re all more than happy to keep you company.” What if I wanted it to be you that kept me company? “Gonna swing back around now, alright?”

You agreed, shifting in your seat, and for the next few minutes you watched the sprawl of Tampa’s suburbs pass beneath you, the edge of the Bay looming in the distance. That attention turned to Frankie, though, when you noticed that the sunlight was changing, brightness dimming slightly. Is it already… “Frankie, did you time this so that…”

“Maybe.” He smiled then - a wide one that lifted his cheeks, the man’s dimple on full display. “Definitely.”

“I…” You didn’t know what to say, so you kept quiet, watching as you got closer to the Bay and the sun setting on the horizon. This is why I needed sunglasses. Lifting one hand, you bit down on your knuckle, phone forgotten as you eyed the sky’s changing colors. He stayed quiet, too, but your eyes drifted from the windshield to Frankie after a few minutes, the man silhouetted in light, his profile defined.

Your breath caught again, and as your lips pressed together to keep from letting out a gasp, you nodded twice. He did this for me and yet he stopped himself earlier. It makes no sense. You understood that he could simply write off the sunset flight as wanting to promote the business and give you a good flight for your first one, but deep down, you knew it was more than that.

“Hope you don’t mind we’ll be in the air for a little longer than you thought.” He looked over at you, his smile soft. “Figured you’d like to see the Gulf from a different viewpoint.” Your jaw dropped, Frankie’s smile growing. “And sunset’s the best time to do it.”

When the Gulf came into view a minute or so later, you let out a surprised “oh!”, eyes widening. “Frankie it’s… wow.” He nodded, continuing to fly straight out and over the water, the waves there a little larger than the others you’d seen earlier. All you could see were water and sky, and in that moment, you understood why Frankie loved flying so much. If this is what he can see here, I can only imagine what he’s gotten to see in other places. “Thank you, Francisco.” You spoke quietly, hoping that he could hear you. “This is …”

You took a few pictures, but didn’t even know if they were in focus or not, and then switched to a video, panning across the interior of the helicopter and making sure to get him in there, too. He made a wide turn while you filmed, putting your side of the helicopter toward the sunset, and then, for the first time, he took one hand off the control, pointing at you. “Lemme have that.”

You switched to the camera and then handed it to him, Frankie leaning in and you doing the same, the man’s thumb flipping the camera so that your faces appeared on the screen. He took a few - both of your smiles wide - and then handed the camera back, returning his hand to its previous position. “Hey, Frankie, look at me.”

You took one from your side, the lighting much different, and then put the phone down again, deciding that you were just going to enjoy the remainder of the flight. I can’t believe he did this. As the sun continued to set, you glanced down, heart thumping. All he can do is tell me to stop, right? You reached over, settling your hand on Frankie’s arm and curling your fingers around it.

He didn’t move. You felt his muscles tense - and then he relaxed, his shaky exhale and a hum of approval audible through the headphones. Neither of you spoke after that, and you focused on what you could see through the windows - shades of blue and pink and orange in the sly blending together as the golden orb sunk toward the horizon, casting the day’s final brightness across the waves. It was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen, and you fought against a lump in your throat as you thought about your situation.

You were lying to Frankie - and his friends. You weren’t quite using them, but by being dishonest, you were cheapening the experiences you had with them, including the one with Frankie that day. Yes, you were writing the book and updating the site, but it wasn’t the whole truth, and you knew that if Frankie ever found out, he’d be upset. And so would his friends.

In previous cities, you’d rationalized it by reminding yourself that telling the truth would lead to people shying away from you in disbelief and labeling you crazy, and you didn’t think that would be any different in Florida. But this is the first time I feel bad about lying.

Frankie’s arm shifted beneath your touch, and you felt the helicopter turn again, putting him between you and the sunset, and without even thinking about it, you swung your head in that direction. It gave you a reason to look at him, and though you knew that he knew that it was happening, he didn’t react. The man’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm under the dark t-shirt he was wearing, his breathing even. I won’t be here long enough for it to matter.

You kept your hand in place until Frankie swung the helicopter again, the flight path carrying you back toward the airport, but neither of you said anything else.

The landing was smooth, Frankie putting you down a little closer to the building than you had been on takeoff. You watched in awe as he worked, his concentration never wavering until he’d flipped the engine off, silence surrounding you and made somehow deeper by the headset you still wore.

You removed yours when he reached for his, hanging them back on the small hook in front of you, and then reached for the harness buckles, undoing them in reverse order. It was Frankie that broke the silence first, the man reaching up to remove his hat and run his fingers through his hair. “I’ll take you back inside and open that locker so you can get going before I come back out and do my post-flight check.” He nodded, glancing over. “That alright with you?”

“Yep.” Reaching for the door handle, you pushed it open and then carefully climbed out, wobbling slightly when your feet made contact with the ground. Frankie joined you seconds later, the two of you making your way back to the door of his office silently.

It wasn’t a tense silence, but you could feel that he was waiting for something, and as he twisted the knob, you decided to break the tension. “That was really amazing, Frankie. The view was … I wasn’t expecting the sunset or for us to be up there for so long, so you’ve … it’ll be hard to top that.”

“Just doing my job.” He gestured for you to walk into his office, following close behind. “But that was a really great sunset, right?”

“It was. Do you do a lot of the sunset -”

“Not like that.” He shook his head, taking the final steps toward the lockers and tossing his hat onto his desk. “Not as a surprise. My clients usually… they book a specific thing, and I stick to it.” You watched his back - shoulders pulling the material of the shirt tight over them. “But you seemed pretty open to whatever kind of flight I thought would be best, so…”

The locker popped open, Frankie moving off to the side for you. “You were right, it was great.” Stepping forward, you reached for your bag and then stopped, turning the top half of your body toward him. “I do need to tell you, though, that a surprise sunset helicopter tour is pretty romantic. So I’m surprised you did that, especially after you stopped yourself from kissing my -”

He moved again, Frankie stepping forward and then using both arms to cage you in against the still-closed lockers. The man lowered his head to press his lips against yours, sucking in a quick breath at the last second. The motion was swift but the kiss was not, the pressure of his mouth gentle as he made contact, though he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to deepen it. Oh. Oh, alright. You wrapped your arms around him and sighed, feeling relief that he’d been the one to make the first move that day. I wanted to, but …

He backed away, just enough that you could see his eyes, and when Frankie opened his mouth to speak, you cut him off with a single shake of your head. “Don’t you dare apologize for that. I wanted it just as much as you.” He was surprised for a moment, the look in his eyes changing to something you’d never seen in them before - and then Frankie kissed you again, taking another half step forward so that his entire body was pressed to yours.

He bit your lower lip that time, the pinch of pain causing your lips to part and giving his tongue an opening, Frankie slipping it through to meet yours. But that kiss was short and messy, one of his hands moving from the lockers to the juncture of your neck and shoulder and squeezing, the man groaning out your name when he pulled away a second time. “Wasn’t going to apologize,” he mumbled, lips trailing over your cheek and to your ear. “Was just gonna see if you were interested in continuing it somewhere else.” Somewhere else? “My truck’s outside, and my house is -”

“There’s a desk right there.” Your eyes flicked toward it and then back to Frankie’s, unblinking. “That’s good enough for me.”

—

In the days that followed your first flight - and second night spent - with Frankie, you settled into a routine in Florida.

You spent your days exploring and researching, some of the guys joining you on hikes and excursions, pointing out restaurants and places to visit as they drove you around. They were animated, all three of them truly welcoming you into the little circle they’d formed in their Delta Force days. It made you happy to be included, because they were all just as friendly and genuine as they’d been the first night you met.

They made you feel safe, too, ensuring you didn’t get lost in parks and nature preserves, or go too far out of your way when you were searching for things to see and do. And there was no shortage of stories told, either, Benny and Will and Pope telling you all about each other

The only one you didn’t see on your own was Tom, and that was because of all five of them, he never reached out the way the others did. That was fine with you; he’d been friendly enough, but you could tell that he had little interest in getting to know you, even on a limited basis.

And when it came to you and Frankie, you settled into that routine easily, too. You didn’t see him every day, and every time you were together didn’t lead to sex, but what you had between you was comfortable. You talked every day, though, text and voice messages sent back and forth while you were taking a break from whatever it was you were doing and he was between flights, and one long phone conversation while he was on his way to drive and see Carmen.

You were closer to Frankie than you had been to anyone that you could remember.

Even though you knew that would make finishing your assignment and leaving Florida hurt, you did nothing to keep yourself from deepening the connection. There were times when you wanted to tell him what you were really doing in Florida - usually when the two of you were curled up on the couch together, the TV playing quietly in the background, or when you were eating dinner together, recapping your days.

But you never did. Common sense and concern over pushing him away outweighed the desire to be honest. So you kept what you were really in Florida for from Frankie in an attempt to keep at least some semblance of what you were used to intact for as long as you possibly could.

By the morning of your third flight, you still hadn’t heard from Alec, though you’d seen your aunt post a picture of the three of them on her Facebook, their smiles broad. So you knew that not only had they made it to Nevada - she also knew about the pregnancy. Good for them.

There was only a week until the next full moon, and you’d narrowed down the places you thought most likely for the wolf’s probable location from six to three, based solely on the previous attacks. One of them - Green Swamp - was where Frankie would be taking you that afternoon, but the problem was that it was so large, there were multiple campgrounds to choose from.

You planned on asking Frankie which one was the most popular, but before you could even get the words out, he was wrapping you in his arms and kissing you hello, zero hesitation when it came to being affectionate with you. “We’ve gotta be on a little more of a tight schedule today.” He stepped away from you, resituating the hat on his head. “I have a flight after yours.”

His eyes moved from your face to his desk, one hand reaching out to touch the wood. I wonder how often he thinks about that afternoon. “No defiling the desk today. Got it.” Wrinkling your nose, you gestured to the lockers. “Same one as usual?” He nodded and you twisted the combination lock into the correct series of numbers, stuffing your bag inside and then shutting it, sunglasses held in your right hand. “Remembered them today.”

He grinned at you and then reached out, waiting for you to take his hand. When the two of you stepped out into the sunshine, you turned your face up and toward it briefly, inhaling. “Do you want to have dinner tonight?” Frankie urged you forward, clearing his throat. “I have late flights a couple days next week, and my schedule’s packed because of all the people getting last minute vacations in before school starts again, so …” He waited for you to climb in and then leaned forward, reaching for the harness straps before you had the chance. “So it might be kind of hard to see each other, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m blowing you off.”

You didn’t reply right away, instead focused on how quickly he got you strapped in, his fingers trailing over the straps - and in turn, your chest before dropping lower, pulling the one between your legs up and buckling it. “Dinner sounds good.” You nodded, waiting for him to look back at you. “Want me to cook?” Frankie shook his head and then leaned in, lips landing on your cheek.

“Nope. Ironhead invited us to the bar.”

“Us?” He nodded, smiling as he backed away and shut the door, walking around the front of the helicopter and climbing in beside you. “I’m included in that now?”

“You are.” He handed you the headset and then put his on, leaning forward to flip a few switches after strapping himself in. “They’re not stupid. They know we’ve spent a lot of time together over the past couple weeks.” He pressed another button and spoke to air traffic, and then you watched him nod, switching the channel back, placing his hands on the controls. “So yeah, when he texted me earlier, he invited you, too… by name.”

You grinned at that, taking a deep breath as you lifted off of the ground and rose into the sky, Frankie maneuvering the aircraft just as smoothly as he had the previous two times. It was a twenty minute ride to the preserve, but you and Frankie filled it with conversation - the man pointing out landmarks every now and then and you making note of them, though you kept your eyes on what was in front of you for most of the flight.

“So, Frankie…” You settled back against the seat, turning your head toward him. “Green Swamp is one of the places I want to camp. I know there are a ton of places in the preserve, but … what’s the best? Do you know? I want something that’s sort of … out of the way, you know? Isolated? Where it’d be really quiet?” He didn’t reply right away, but when he did, he looked over at you smiling.

“Our RV is actually permanently parked in Richloam.” His smile widened when your jaw dropped. “You’re right. There are plenty of places to camp, but we picked one that was pretty out of the way, and Pope talked the guy into renting out a space year round. There’s no generator or electric hookup or anything like that, we just use the RV itself and have a couple backup batteries and solar panels.” No, shit. “I’d be more than happy to take you up there, whenever you want to.”

“Just not next week.” He nodded, returning his attention to the window. “Hmm.” You leaned forward as the city thinned out, an expanse of trees and other greenery appearing in front of you. “Whoa, that’s huge.” You blinked a few times in disbelief. “Frankie, I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“It’s probably the biggest in the area. I’m not completely sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me.” He pointed. “Our RV’s at the north end, about an hour from home.” That’s not too far. “But if you’ve got someone that knows the area, it’s easier.” He veered off to the right, flying on the edge of the trees, and you looked out your window, eyeing the greenery below you. “If you wanted to get out here next weekend, I can probably …” He sighed. “You can ask Benny tonight. I think he’s…. Free next week. I know you probably won’t want to wait, but …”

“I’ll wait for you, Frankie.” Reaching over, you squeezed his wrist, careful not to jostle the control. “Unless it’ll be weeks, because in that case …” In that case, I could be onto something else, and … “Or I could just come out here by myself during the week sometime, you know? I don’t want to invite myself, but I also don’t want to inconvenience anyone, and …”

“No.” He shook his head, his tone harder than you’d ever heard it. “Explaining how to get to the site is a little difficult, and the last thing I want is to have to send a search team out for you because you got turned around. Reception’s kind of shitty.” It made sense, but it was still disappointing. He’s just looking out for me. “We’re gonna turn back now, otherwise we’ll be flying straight to Disney.”

“Ooh, that would be fun.” You laughed, nudging him with one elbow. “I’ll parachute out when we’re over Magic Kingdom.”

“The Mouse Police would be all over that. And me, too.” He shook his head, frowning. “That is a definite no fly zone.” You laughed again, Frankie swinging the helicopter back and pointing it in the direction you’d come from. “You going to Disney while you’re here? I know you won’t put that in the notes or anything, but I don’t know if you’ve ever been.”

“I have once, when I was a kid. I bet it’s a lot different now, but …” You shook your head. “I’m not sure I’ll have time, Frankie. I’m only here for three months, and … I have a lot to do.”

“We could plan something toward the end of your stay.” He sighed. “Becca and I took Carmen earlier this year, and she loved it. Her boyfriend wasn’t too thrilled we were spending a weekend together, even though we had separate rooms and only saw each other in the parks, but that was something we wanted to do as a family.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Point is, you can’t go to Epcot and drink around the world with a toddler, so…” He looked over at you, his unease turning into amusement. “If you were into that, it would be a lot of fun.”

“It would.” Is he asking me to go to Disney with just him? That would be … an overnight stay if we were drinking and there’s multiple parks so that would mean a couple days, and … “If you can get the time off of work.”

“I think my boss would approve it.” You both laughed at that, and then it was Frankie’s turn to reach over and squeeze your knee - only briefly - before he put his hand back on the control. “Think about it, alright?” You nodded and told him you would, but for the rest of the flight back, the word liar repeated over and over in your mind.

—

He’d kissed you goodbye quickly once you were back on the ground, but there wasn’t time for much else - the helicopter needed to be looked over and refueled, and Frankie’s employee was impatient.

He promised to pick you up on his way to Ironhead’s and you parted ways, but you didn’t go directly back to the apartment. Instead, you drove around aimlessly, fingertips drumming against the steering wheel.

There was a chance - a small one, admittedly - that after the following week, you’d be on your way out of Florida and finding somewhere to regroup. I could stay here. Chewing on your lip as you sat at a stoplight, you closed your eyes. “No, I couldn’t. If I kill a wolf, I have to leave.”

You’d never been in the scenario before, but you assumed that if you found and eliminated the wolf, others would come to check it out - and to look for you. You had no interest in sticking around long enough to find out if that was true or not, and so the plan was always to finish your business and then skip town if you ever made good on your mission’s objective. But I’ve never had anyone to leave before.

Pressing on the gas, you drove through the light, Frankie’s smiling face flashing in your mind. He wasn’t yours to leave, but sneaking out under the cover of darkness without saying goodbye was one of the most unappealing thoughts you’d ever had. There was no way to explain yourself without clueing him in on your real reason for being in Tampa, and if you did that, it would potentially put him in danger, something else that you didn’t want to do.

Even if he didn’t believe you, simply putting the idea into his head was dangerous. “And that’s why I can’t tell him anything.” Blowing out a breath, you nodded. “That’s why I’m lying.” It was a flimsy excuse, but it was enough. “And there’s no way I’ll figure this out in a week anyway, so I don’t have to think about leaving yet.”

That was almost a certainty - you were closer than you had been but nowhere near close enough, and with all of the green, swampy spaces you’d seen over the previous few weeks, you figured it would take you at least one more moon cycle to narrow things down. And that means another month of … “Another month of Frankie.”

—

He picked you up a little before 7 that night, Frankie getting out of the truck and walking to the door to knock. You did a double take when you saw him standing outside, your mouth falling open in surprise. “You shaved.”

Frankie reached up and rubbed at his chin with his fingertips, nodding. “Just trimmed it a little. Why? Don’t you like it?” It made him look much younger, and though you missed the full scruff, you had to admit that he looked good with shorter facial hair, too - which you admitted to him, the man’s cheeks reddening with the compliment.

“Have you ever thought about just the mustache?” Walking beside him, you headed for his truck. “Getting rid of the beard and the sideburns and all of it?”

“Yeah. I’ve done it before. I look about twelve.” You snorted, stopping at the front of the truck while Frankie did the same, leaning against the hood. “I went out on a date a couple years ago and the woman said she preferred no facial hair, so …” He shrugged. “We went out on one date, and I haven’t done that shit since.”

“I’d never ask you to shave, Frankie.” You wrinkled your nose, reaching out and pinching his cheek. “Even though now that I know you’ve got these cheeks hidden under all that, I’m never going to let you forget it.” He rolled his eyes but you saw his lips twitch in amusement at the same time. “Same with your hair.”

“Yeah?” The two of you climbed in, and when you were on the road, he glanced over and continued. “What about it?”

“I like the way it curls.” You shrugged, resting your elbow on the door, hand dangling over your lap. “I bet, too, you like it long after so many years of keeping it short.” He nodded in agreement, looking back over at you.

“Yeah. That was one of the best parts about gettin’ out and taking on private assignments. No one gave a shit about the length of my hair as long as I got my job done.” He went quiet then, reaching over to flip the volume on the radio up, and for the rest of the ride to the bar, you were both quiet, aside from him humming along to the music.

You were stunned at how natural it felt to be with him and joke with him. It didn’t feel like you’d only known him for a few weeks, and once you’d gotten past pretending that you didn’t want to continue your physical relationship with each other, it was like a flip switched.

The attraction was still there on an almost constant basis, but instead of forcing yourselves not to act on it, both of you let it free. He touched you often - a hand on your back, sliding his fingers between yours, draping his arm around your shoulders when you were sitting next to each other - and Frankie looked at you like he wanted you, even when you were doing mundane things.

And you were more open with your flirting; complimenting the man at every chance you got, running your fingertips along the back of his neck, and making it apparent that you were into him, especially when you were around people that both of you knew.

It wasn’t that you were trying to prove a point or keep anyone else from showing interest in you, because with the exception of the first night - and genuine friendliness and honesty, not even Benny had tried to flirt. You were doing it because you wanted to - and because you could feel the confidence boost it gave Frankie each time.

His friends didn’t give you a hard time about it, either, and you wondered if the same was true for Frankie when he saw them without you around, though you didn’t want to ask.

“C’mere.” He leaned over after parking, tipping your chin up with two fingers. “Before we go inside…” Nodding, you leaned closer and closed your eyes, warmth of his exhale hitting your lips moments before the kiss began.

It was a tender one, and one that you nudged further, drawing his lip between yours and then licking along the seam, Frankie’s palm moving to the back of your neck and his fingers spread wide to keep you close.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re fucking amazing at that?” You whispered the words when you pulled apart, your eyelids fluttering open. “Because you are, Frankie. I could kiss you until -”

“You know you don’t have to stroke my ego, right?” He pulled his hat off and combed his hair back with one hand before settling it back into place. “I’m already planning on taking you home with me tonight.” You snorted, reaching for the door handle.

“Fine. I won’t ever give you a compliment again. You suck at kissing, Frankie. The worst. In fact, I -”

“You’re laying it on pretty thick, and you’re a goddamn liar.” He climbed out, peeking back into the cab. “Now come on, I want a beer.”

Hurrying to catch up with him, you met him just before he opened the door, Frankie putting his arm around your waist and guiding you through the crowd.

Pope, Will and Benny were already sitting in one of the booths, but to your surprise there was another person there, too - Tom.

You slid into the open space next to Pope, Frankie taking a seat next to you. Before you could even say hello, a full glass was pushed in front of you, Benny grinning from across the table. “Finally. Do we need to check the parking lot security cameras? Are we going to see anything that we don’t want to?”

“Yeah.” You took a sip, cocking your head to the side. “And if there’s volume, you might even get to hear me telling him that he’s shit at -”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Frankie reached for the pitcher, pouring himself a drink and taking a long sip while his friends laughed, Tom’s focus on the two of you. “Is there food coming, or should I go to the bar and order?”

“We ordered.” Will waved his hand, shaking his head. “But if you want something that’s not an appetizer, you’ll have to go up and talk to Kay.” Frankie looked at you expectantly, and when you nodded, he stood again, staring down at the table.

“Text me what you want and I’ll order ‘em together.” He looked at his friends. “Anything else? More beer?” Pope asked for another pitcher while you started typing, and it was only after Frankie had walked away that anyone else spoke, Tom licking his lips and saying your name.

“Looks like you and ‘Fish are getting along well.”

“We are.” You took another sip, setting your phone down. “We went on our third flight today, which was the last one I had scheduled. Went up toward the Green Swamp, and he said that’s where your RV is?” Pope nodded, and so did Tom, his thumb running up and down along the side of his beer glass. “I told him I wanted to camp up there at some point, but he said to wait so I could stay at the RV, and he’s busy all next week, so it’ll have to be after that.”

“Busy with what?” Tom frowned, a confused look on his face. “He doesn’t fly at night, and -”

“All the last minute vacations, Redfly.” Frankie slid back into the booth next to you, clearing his throat. “I opened up my bookings a couple extra hours a day until he second week of September, and then I’m taking little while off.” He took a drink, licking his lips clean. “Give myself a break before the holiday travel starts.” He’s taking a break? That means …

It meant that after the second August full moon, if you were still in Tampa, you’d be able to spend more time with Frankie. But why didn’t he say anything til now? “A break? You never do that.” Tom scratched the side of his head. “Any special reason?”

“Because he’s been flying almost nonstop since last winter?” Pope spoke up, tapping his fingers against the tabletop. “We’ve all gotten to take time off in the last few years, except ‘Fish here, who…” Pope snorted. “He’s spent more time in the air since we got back from Colombia than he did the entire time he was enlisted.” The other guys laughed, too, Frankie casting a grateful look at his friend. “Good. Maybe with some time off, we can go do something fun.”

“Like what?” Benny leaned closer. “Vegas? Mexico? Fuckin’ Barcelona?”

“I suggested going to Disney a couple hours ago.” Frankie sniffed, taking another drink. “Last time I went, I was with my daughter, and that was great, but …” He smiled, looking over at you. “But I think it would be even more fun with other adults.”

“Fuck yeah it would.” Pope’s grin was infectious, the man leaning closer to Frankie. “Yovanna would probably love that, unless it’s just for us guys, and -”

“There are plenty of hotels.” Will spoke up, swiping a hand through his short hair. “And I’m sure Tanya would want to come too. What about Molly, Tom? Could the two of you get away from Tessa for the weekend?”

“Probably.” He took a long drink, nodding. “Would depend on when, though. Closer it gets to the holidays, the more shit we have to do with her family, so I can’t promise anything.” Everyone murmured in reply, beginning to talk over plans, but Frankie leaned in, whispering into your ear.

“You’re invited too, in case you were wondering.” He nudged you with his shoulder, and then reached for your hand under the table. “And now I kinda roped you in, so…”

“We’ll see.” Lips twitching, you squeezed his hand. “Thanks for putting me on the spot.” He laughed, straightening back up and letting go of your hand.

“You’re welcome. And I’m about to do it again.” What? But before you could question him, Frankie reached over and threw a peanut at Benny, saying the younger man’s name. “Did you ever get ahold of the guy at Hillsborough with the boat?”

“I did!” He slapped his hand on the tabletop, looking from Frankie to you. “He said you can stop by whenever, it’s been pretty slow this month so far. All I’ve gotta do is let him know when, and you’re good to go.”

“Really?” He nodded. “Thank you, Benny, I’ll figure it out, and let you know. Can I go out at night? That would be pretty neat. Maybe next week sometime?” You narrowed your eyes, pretending to think. “Isn’t there a full moon? You’d probably be able to see a lot on the water like that.”

“There is.” Frankie spoke up, nodding. “Wednesday, maybe?” He pulled his lower lip back between his teeth, thinking. “I wouldn’t be able to go that night, since it’s about 35 minutes away and by the time we were done and home, I’d be in no shape to fly the next morning.” Pope nodded slowly, glancing over at Tom and then Will. “What about you, Benjamin?”

Your attention moved between the blonde men, lingering on the younger one, Benny nodding thoughtfully. “I mean… yeah. I don’t have anything going on. Let me get ahold of Manny, and I’ll let you know, but it shouldn’t be a problem.” He nodded at you, his smile growing. “Can I have your number so we don’t have to play telephone through ‘Fish?” His eyes flicked over toward Frankie as he spoke, Benny winking at the other man before looking back at you.

“Of course.” You recited it to him, waiting to see a text come through to confirm that you had his in return. “Thank you, Benny.” He held up his beer, nodding, and then the six of you were interrupted by the approach of two servers, their trays laden with food.

“See?” Frankie leaned in again, his hand resting on your thigh. “Told you you’d always have one of us around.”

—

You had to admit that the airboat was a lot cooler than you’d imagined it to be, though it was no less terrifying.

Benny showed up at your door late Wednesday afternoon, the man grinning from ear to ear, and escorted you to his car, talking a mile a minute.

It was much different from the time you spent with Frankie, and even though you’d grown accustomed to the pilot’s personality, Benny’s was a welcome change.

He’d kept you talking the entire way to the campground - mostly about your book and website, but he also threw in a few stories about the other guys, too, specifically Frankie and Will. It was like the two of you were old friends, and by the time he pulled a small duffel bag out of the backseat and the two of you headed for the dock, you felt a slight pang of annoyance that you hadn’t made as much of an effort to spend time with the younger Miller brother outside of him accompanying you on research missions. If I stay longer, maybe … maybe that can change.

It was nothing like the attraction you felt toward Frankie, but you gladly took Benny’s hand when he helped you onto the boat, introducing you to his friend.

The moon was just beginning to rise, and as the three of you got situated, you looked up, smiling at the sight of it. This is one of the locations I narrowed it down to. Maybe … maybe we’ll see something. “Alright, some rules.” Manny stood behind the two of you, hands on his hips. “Stay seated, even when we’re stopped or just driftin’.” You nodded and so did Benny, waiting for him to continue. “You’ll want to wear the ear protection, because this fan is loud.” Both of you nodded again. “When we stop, you can take it off if you want. That way you’ll be able to hear all the critters.”

“Sounds good.” Benny nodded. “Anything else?”

“Make sure you put on your bug spray, and I’d recommend long sleeves.” You already had your arms covered, but Benny didn’t, the blonde unzipping his bag and pulling out a hoodie. “Also, just a warning - there is a rifle on board. We shouldn’t need it, but …” But what? Your eyes widened, a breath sticking in your throat. “Just in case.”

Only a few minutes later, you were underway, gliding away from the dock and toward the trees, the moonlight shining over the water and illuminating the area in front of you. There was no point in having your phone out, because it was too dark to take photos, so you focused instead on the water and what little of the shoreline you could see in the shadows.

It was thrilling to feel the breeze against your face, and for a few minutes, you let yourself relax, leaning back into your seat while you scanned the area ahead of you. You felt Benny’s hand on your arm a while later, the man pointing with his other hand. When you followed the direction of it, you saw pinpricks of light at the surface of the water, gasping when you realized that they were eyes. Alligators. There are alligators ten feet from me, and … You shivered, though you leaned closer, Benny doing the same thing next to you.

The boat kept moving, though it moved much slower, giving you a chance to take in your surroundings. Manny shined a light ahead of you, and you froze at just how many pairs of glowing eyes you saw, glancing over to see the look on Benny’s face. He was grinning, his head shaking back and forth in delight.

You stopped a little while after that, the motion of the boat ceasing, and when you reached up to take the headphones off, you were stunned at how loud the animals around you were - the buzz and hum of cicadas, crickets chirping, the low croaks of frogs; you even heard the hoot of an owl in the distance. “Listen to that.” Benny spoke from next to you, voice low. “Reminds me of the jungle.”

You looked over and saw that he was focused on the water in front of you, lips set into a frown. “It’s louder than I thought it would be.” He nodded, but didn’t say anything else, and when you heard something splash close by, your attention went there, eyes skipping over the moonlit surface and looking for ripples.

“Do you want to keep going?” Manny spoke from behind you, waiting until you both turned to look to continue. “I can start the fan again, or we can keep drifting.”

“You choose.” Benny shrugged. “I’m good either way.”

“Can we just drift for a little while? This is relaxing.” Manny agreed, and the three of you sat in silence for long moments, staring at the darkness around you. “How many tours do you usually do every day?”

“One or two.” You turned back to look at him while he spoke, the man gesturing with one hand. “Most of ‘em during the day. Special cases closer to sundown. It’s harder to see at night, so this is a special favor for Miller here, but the moon makes it a lot easier.” You glanced up at his words, noting how the light filtered in through the breaks in the tree branches above you. “I have busier times, though. We have two boats, and -”

He was interrupted by a loud splash that sounded close, followed by a low growling noise that turned into what sounded like a motorcycle. Shit, what… “It’s fine.” Benny leaned over, settling his hand on your knee. “Just a gator.” The sound continued, Manny confirming Benny’s statement as other ‘voices’ joined the chorus, and even though your heart was racing, you felt excitement at the experience. This is really fucking cool. Not what I’m looking for, but…

The rumbling roars continued as you drifted along with the current, and when you glanced over at Benny, he was grinning right back at you, his eyes wide with excitement. “Haven’t you ever done this before?”

“Not at night.” He shook his head. “Not like -”

But then it was Benny that was cut off when another sound pierced the air, and you watched his expression change, his lips parting in shock. That’s not a gator. Your head whipped to the right and toward where you thought it was coming from as the sound carried through the air again - the unmistakable howl of a wolf somewhere in the distance.

It was sustained, long and low, and you heard Manny swearing from behind you, the man scrambling in his seat. “Benny? What is that?” You asked the question even though you already knew, head shaking back and forth. “It sounds like a -”

“A coyote. Maybe a panther. It’s -”

“That isn’t a panther. They scream, not howl.” Manny’s tone was serious, and when you looked back, you saw that he had the rifle in his hands, though his finger wasn’t on the trigger. “That sounds like a -” A second howl cut through the air, though that one sounded a little different than the first, the pitch higher. Two? There are two?

“We’re hearin’ things.” Benny shook his head, eyes narrowed. “There’s no wolves in Florida. It can’t be -” But the sound came again, then, louder and closer, and when Benny moved that time, it was to reach for the bag he’d brought on board. The man’s hand dove in and came back out, fingers curled around the grip of some sort of handgun. Why did he bring a gun? You blinked quickly, an icy chill coursing through your body.

It was possible that he’d brought it for the same reason Manny had - in case the gators got too close to the boat. But the other possibility was that Benny had anticipated another kind of danger during the ride, and had wanted to be prepared. There are a ton of animals in these swamps, so it’s possible, and… “Benny, why do you have a -”

“Keep that handy, Miller.” Manny spoke up as the howling continued, the man’s voice quiet but somewhat calmer. “I’m going to start the fan again and get us back to the dock.”

“Yes, sir.” Benny nodded in agreement and then reached up to flip the brim of his hat backward, clearing his field of vision. His posture was relaxed, though you knew he was anything but, and you opted to stay quiet - heartbeat pounding in your ears. He’d moved closer to you, angling his body so that he could watch more of the shoreline, and you were thankful for it, though there was as large part of you that felt vindicated.

It’s a wolf. There aren’t wolves in Florida, and that means … that means I was right. That means… The howling was cut off by the sound of the fan, and you blinked in surprise when a second spotlight turned on, aimed toward land. That’s fucking bright. Manny smoothly turned you back around, Benny’s position shifting again to partially block you from the side of the riverbank you were closest to.

Wincing, you covered your ears with the protection again, reaching into your back pocket for your phone. You thought about texting Frankie, and then decided not to, instead bringing up Alec’s contact and typing out a message before hitting send and praying that you had enough bars to get it through. I’m on an airboat in the middle of the Hillsborough River and there is a wolf howling in the distance. I was fucking right.

When you pulled up to the dock, Manny cut the fan off again, anchoring the boat. You ripped off your ear protection, setting it down on the bench to the seat’s right. There were no sounds aside from the nighttime creatures, and when the men nodded at each other, you all stood, gathering your things and beelining it for the small building that acted as the tour office. The three of you listened intently as you moved, Benny in front of you and the other man behind.

Once inside, Benny locked the door and pressed his back against it, he gun still held tightly in one hand. “We all fuckin’ heard that, right?”

“Yes.” You swallowed hard, nodding. “It sounded like a wolf. But there aren’t any here, like Manny said. So what the hell is -”

“Whatever it was was close.” Manny frowned, looking around the room. “But maybe it was just a trick of the -”

“We all heard it.” You cut in, rolling your eyes. “No way all three of us heard the same thing and imagined it or warped something else to sound like …” You trailed off, closing your eyes. “It sounded like there was more than one, too. Did you hear the -”

“There’s gotta be an explanation.” Benny pulled his hat off, running his fingers through his hair. “Someone playing a prank, or some shit like that. Because I’ve heard wolves before, in Colorado. I’ve heard a pack of ‘em howling, and that sounded close, but it wasn’t…. Those sounds were coming from different places. If by some fuckin’ miracle there were wolves here, why and how would it be two different…”

You watched his brow wrinkle in confusion, the man’s blue eyes narrowing. What are you thinking, Benny? You once again thought about calling Frankie, but after glancing at the clock, you decided not to - it was almost 10:30, and you knew that he was already in bed, his phone on Do Not Disturb.

“I think I want to go home, Benny.” You blew out a breath. “Manny this was great and all, but -”

“Yeah, I’d like to get away from the swamp, too.” The man laughed, scratching the side of his head. “In twenty goddamn years, I’ve never … never heard anything like that out here, and I’d feel a little better just…” He sighed. “Being in my house.”

The three of you parted ways in the parking lot a few minutes later, the gun only leaving Benny’s hand after you were both safely in the car and the engine was running. You hadn’t heard anything out of the ordinary since you’d arrived back at the campsite, but you only fully relaxed once you turned onto 301 and were headed south, joining in a steady flow of traffic.

Benny’s fingers were gripping the wheel tightly, the man’s jaw locked, and even though you had a ton of questions for him, you started out with one that surprised even you. “Are you going to text Frankie and let him know what we heard, or should I?”

“Better question is what are we going to tell him?” He looked over at you, some of the tightness leaving his expression. “Because he’s not gonna believe it if we tell him what we think we heard.” We don’t think we heard anything. That was a … those were wolves. “Grab my phone for me, and dial Pope’s number, will you?”

You reached into the backseat for his bag and pulled out the device, scrolling through his contacts and pressing the one for Pope before you handed it over. He took it, pressing the device between his ear and shoulder and waiting. Pope first? That’s interesting. Not his brother?

“Hey. Where are you?” You watched the blonde man’s expression, catching a quick look of surprise that rapidly shifted into confusion, Benny clearing his throat before speaking. “Oh. Alright. Well, uh…” He sighed, closing his eyes briefly and gripping the wheel tighter. “We’re leaving Hillsborough right now and you’re not gonna believe what we think we heard.” He paused and then let out a laugh, though it wasn’t an easy one. “Wolves. We stopped the boat and were drifting, and something started howling and…” Benny’s voice trailed off and you saw him nod twice, reaching up to take the phone between his fingers again. “No, all three of us. Loud as shit, but it makes no sense, right? That’s impossible?”

He was quiet for a long time, listening, and you pulled your phone out, swiping up on the screen. He’ll see it in the morning and he told me to let him know when we got home anyway, so… While Benny continued the conversation with Pope, you texted Frankie, trying to word things delicately.

On our way home now. Heard some really weird shit on the boat. Sounded like wolves, but it couldn’t have been… scared the hell out of us. We heard and saw a bunch of gators, too. The boat was a great idea. Call me later if you want. “I think she just did.” You glanced over, finding that Benny was nodding, his eyes still on the road. “Yeah. He’ll see it in the morning.” He paused. “Yeah, Pope. We’re good. Have a good rest of your night. Stay safe.”

It was a strange way to end the conversation, but you didn’t question it, instead settling back into your seat and looking out the window. You kept quiet until Benny cleared his throat, asking how you were doing.

“I’m fine. It just freaked me out, I guess. I was expecting to hear the alligators and all that, but not … something howling.” He laughed, agreeing. “What the fuck do you think that was, Benny?”

“I donno. I’ve heard some crazy shit over the past couple years, but that …” He shook his head again. “No clue.”

You decided to joke with him, broaching the idea of what you knew to be the truth. “Maybe it was a werewolf.” He inhaled sharply, the steering wheel jerking in his hands.

“What?” He looked over at you, the man’s shoulders stiff. “What are -” That’s an odd reaction.

“Full moon and all?” You gestured at the moon, forcing out a laugh, though your heart was pounding again. “Fuck, I don’t know. I’m just trying to come up with an explanation for -”

“Maybe if it was October.” His voice softened, the man sighing. “Kids going out in the woods and camping and playing tricks on each other and all that shit.” Maybe. Or maybe not. “Happens all the time. People go out and get lost in the damn swamps because they’re tryin’ to scare themselves.”

He went quiet again, the man’s deep breaths lengthening as he continued to drive. Instead of replying, you just stared out the window, arms crossed tightly over your chest. I have so much shit to add to my notes tonight.

Neither of you spoke until he was parked in your driveway, the overhead light on as you gathered up your stuff. “Thank you for taking me tonight, Benny.” You looked over at him, hoping he could see the sincerity in your expression. “I’m glad you were there, and that you had a gun.”

“I’m glad I didn’t need to use it.” He smiled, the expression more genuine than any of them had been in hours. “I’ve seen too many videos of alligators getting curious and trying to climb into boats. I wasn’t gonna take any chances.” You laughed then, reaching over to squeeze his arm.

“That’s a visual that’s going to haunt me.” He laughed, too, his eyes never leaving your face. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” Benny pointed at the front door. “You want me to walk you in?”

“I’m alright, but thank you.” Closing your eyes, you sighed. “Seriously, Benny. Thank you.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over and hugged him tightly. “I don’t know what the fuck we heard tonight, but I’m glad someone else was there to confirm that I’m not going insane.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.” His grip on you was solid, but he let go quickly. “Now go inside. I wanna get home, and I’m supposed to take a picture of you walking in that door to send to -”

“That’s weird as fuck, right?” He nodded, wrinkling his nose. “Frankie seriously asked you to -”

“Yes to both.” Benny held up his phone. “But he cares about you, so…” You gathered up your stuff and then got out of the car, ducking your head to peek back in.

“Is it so he knows I got home safe, or so he knows you didn’t try to weasel your way inside with me?” Benny snorted, his laughter barely contained.

“I’ve done a lot of stupid shit with women, but I’d never try anything like that with someone that ‘Fish was into, and he knows it.” You smiled and gave him another nod, closing the door and walking the short distance to the front of your apartment.

Once it was unlocked, you turned halfway, giving Benny a wave. You held the pose until you saw him lower the phone, the man giving you a thumbs up in return. He was already backing out of the driveway when you stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind you and flipping the switch on to bathe the room in light.

It was barely after eleven, and thanks to adrenaline, you were wide awake - itching to get to work. “I was fucking right. Holy shit!” You spoke to the empty room, nodding your head as you set everything down, slipping your shoes off. There’s a wolf here, and it was close. You sat down, pulling your locked suitcase out and opening it, reaching for your journal and a pen. “Now I just need to figure out why it sounded like there were two of them.”

—

The ringing of your phone woke you what seemed like only minutes after you’d fallen asleep.

You blinked your eyes and groaned at the sound, trying to focus on the slivers of light peeking in through the blinds to figure out what time it was. Reaching for the device, you shot up into a sitting position at the sight of the name - and picture - on the screen. Why is he calling me so early?

Pressing the button to answer, you raised the device to your ear. “Alec? What are -” A woman’s voice on the other end of the line said your name, the sound thin and shaky, and your fingers immediately tightened around it as you confirmed that it was you.

“This is Ashley. I didn’t… I hate that this is how …” You stood, your body shaking with fear and all traces of sleep gone as you listened to her speak. “We were going to surprise you but we got in too late last night and I needed to find a place… you know.” She paused, taking another shaky breath. “Alec was attacked last night. He’s in surgery right now, and you need to … you need to come to the hospital.”

—

tag list reblogs coming soon!

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #liminality #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #liminality masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #writing #masterlist #tag list #frankie catfish morales

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somethingtofightfor-shares · 1 year ago

Text

Tag list reblog part 3:

Frankie:

Tags didn’t work Liminality:

@chronic-nosebleed @hocuschlocus @janebby @mysteriouslyfuzzypeach @scorpiowidow @lumenseal @maladaptivemando @rominaszh @stardustsophia @t0fudaddy @Karlawithacapitalk @Bookwoman1492 @loveslide @brittmb115 @Hiddlebatchedloki @knopewyattworld @Noisynightmarepoetry @ofallthechemicalboys @Oursisastragefate @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @Professionalpromqueen @Racetrackheart @readiskeepingmegoing @dessinemoiunehistoire @Javicstories @Quica-quica-quica@startrekkingaroundasgard @booksaremyyoga @blackirisesinthesunlight @Severin817

Liminality: Part 4

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 8,989

Rating: M: violent themes, talk of previous deaths and crime, mention of wolves being violent, some language ... this one's actually pretty tame. Tom is in this chapter, though... so be warned.

Summary: As you continue to settle into Tampa, more falls into place ... until you're hit with a bombshell of a revelation from the last place you expect it.

Author’s note:

Here we are, well into November and it's still spooky season over here. Thank you for sticking with this one, and for being so kind about the first few parts. I'm having a blast writing it - and hope that you continue to enjoy reading it.

If you have any questions or comments or just want to talk about Frankie, please feel free to reach out. I'm SO INTERESTED in any theories you may have about where this is going, too.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

“So if you’ll just sign here, and there, and here…” Tom pointed to different places on the paper, his other hand flat on the tabletop. “And then initial these three…” He sighed, waiting. “And then one more on this final page. That’s it. You’re all set.”

Wednesday hadn’t worked out for Tom, but on the first Thursday you spent in Tampa, you were sitting in his office, signing your lease. It felt like a step in the right direction, and as you scanned the page before sliding it back toward him, you grinned. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. You already gave me the cashier’s check, and the owners will forward over the utility bills to you every month as they come in.” He shrugged. “All I need to do is hand you the keys, and you can get out of here.” He rubbed at his chin, eyeing you. “Got someone to help you move in?”

“I have three suitcases and a duffle bag, Tom. I don’t exactly travel with a lot.” He chuckled, holding one of his hands out toward you.

“Alright. I’ll go get the key, be right back.” He left you at the desk, giving you a few seconds to stare through the partially opened blinds and into the parking lot. It was early enough in the day that you’d be able to take care of your errands and still have time to get out and visit one of the places on your list if you chose to, which made you happy. Because I’m on a roll, especially after the last two days. “Here you go.”

Tom dropped a set of three keys on front of you, continuing to circle around to the other side of the desk. “Thank you. I -”

“And this is for you, too.” He slid a bottle of wine toward you, a big red bow tied around the neck of the bottle. “Usually I save these for people that close on houses, but since you’re looking for local things to write about …”

At the sight of the label, you froze, breath catching. How does he know? There’s no way that he … “Thank you, Tom.” You pulled the bottle closer, fingers wrapped around the neck. This can’t be a coincidence, can it? “The winery’s local?”

“Kind of. It’s about an hour away.” He leaned back in his chair, smiling. “My wife’s a big fan. She and her friends go every couple months, and she brings me back a a case or two, so I can hand them out.” He pointed. “That’s one of her favorites.”

“Howl At The Moon?” You arched a brow, shaking your head. “Interesting name.”

“All of their wines have names like that, and labels to match.” Tom shrugged. “Look the winery up, and you’ll see.” You believed him, letting out the breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. “I think I’ve got a bottle or two of their white wines back there, if -”

“No. This is perfect, Tom.” Standing, you picked the bottle up by the neck, looking down at the label. More perfect than you know. “Thank you. And now I’m going to go and buy groceries and fill up that refrigerator because let me tell you … living out of that mini fridge in the hotel was a nightmare.”

Tom’s smile widened, the man clasping his hands together on the desktop. “I’m sure it was. And I hope it goes well for you. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“Maybe.” Tucking the wine bottle under one arm, you reached for the keys. “Still waiting to hear back from Frankie about the helicopter, but now that I’m going to be further south, heading back to Ironhead’s is definitely an option.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but the phone on his desk rang before he could, Tom averting his eyes to look at it. Waving, you backed slowly out of the office, listening as the man answered the call just before you closed the door behind you.

You did plan on going to the store and buying what you needed for the apartment, but more than that, you were looking forward to unpacking all of your research. You needed to see everything laid out - pictures and charts and maps, the lists you’d made in your journals and on loose sheets of paper. It helped you think, and after the discoveries you’d made in the previous few days, you needed every advantage that you could get.

“Groceries first.” Mumbling the words as you set the bottle of wine down in the back seat, your eyes lingered on the silhouette of the wolf on the label. “And then work.”

—

Three hours later, you were chewing on the last bites of a sandwich and staring down at the mess on your floor. It was chaotic - papers overlapping, pictures in small stacks, post it notes stuck to everything - but as you eyed each piece, things came together .

You were convinced that what was happening in Florida was what you were looking for. You’d visited two of the murder sites in the previous two days, images from the crime scene photos helping you to find the exact locations where the bodies had been found. It surprised you that the locations were so close to the trails and roads that led through the park spaces. But that had worked in your favor, because it meant that you poking around with your camera wasn’t suspicious.

The first thing you’d noticed were the gouges in trees nearby. To anyone that wasn’t looking, they didn’t stand out - the marred surfaces of the tree trunks simply looked like breaks in the bark or the marks of bear or big cat claws. But you’d seen the same marks at roughly the same height in both Cypress Creek and Hillsborough River - the marks matching photos that had been passed down from other relatives in other locations throughout the years.

The second thing was your biggest clue, and you’d dropped to your knees with a gasp at the sight of it, one hand covering your mouth. It was a pawprint, half-hidden beneath a stack of rocks, and you’d only seen it because you were taking a short break, resting on a downed tree stump.

But when you’d cleared the rocks away - carefully - so that you could see the whole thing, you knew. It was larger than a dog’s paw, and shaped differently than a bear or a panther’s would have been. The toes were elongated, almost like fingers, and the impression of the nail was deep and wide - entirely different from any other animal print than you’d ever seen.

You’d taken photos - multiple photos, and then printed them up as soon as you were back in the hotel, comparing them to ones that your grandfather had taken … and they matched.

The print told you a wolf was in the area, but the marks on the trees told you it was the Chaos line … and that meant that finally, you were in the right place.

Seeing everything together was overwhelming. You’d never been so close before, and even though you knew that you still had a long way to go, it was encouraging. Because I still have weeks before the full moon, and that means I have time.

You contemplated opening the bottle of wine that Tom had given you, marking the discovery and confirmation with some celebration, but before you could decide one way or the other, your phone rang - and it was Frankie’s name on the screen.

Grabbing for the device, you took it to the couch and sunk onto it, answering. “Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Frankie, what’s up?”

“Not much. Just …” You looked around. “Just relaxing in my new apartment.” There was a pause and then you heard him swear, a quick laugh reaching your ear moments later. “You?”

“So we’re neighbors now?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer, the man continuing. “Nice. I just finished my last flight for the day, and wanted to let you know that I got approval for a couple of the routes I mapped out. I’ll need to file ‘em the day before we go to finalize everything, but I was wonderin’ if you wanted to meet up to pick the ones you like best so we can figure out some dates.”

“Yes.” Grinning, you leaned forward. “Yes, Frankie. When and where?”

“If you’re in Tampa Heights, you’re on my way home. I’ve got my laptop, so I can bring it there and we can go over … shit, are you even unpacked? I don’t want to - “

“I live out of suitcases, Frankie. I’m unpacked.” Eyeing the mess on the floor, you wrinkled your nose. I will need to put that away though. “How long would it take you to get here?”

“Donno. I have a couple things to do here before I head out, so maybe a half hour? Forty five minutes?” That was plenty of time - and you told him as much, letting him know that you’d send over the address as soon as you hung up the phone. “Alright. Sounds good. I’ll see you in a little while.”

He hung up first and then you texted him the address, telling him he could park behind your car. You got a thumbs up response a few seconds later, and at his confirmation, you started to clean up your research.

You’d done it so often that packing it away was second nature to you, everything stuffed back into binders and then put into one of your suitcases. You scanned the room one final time to make sure you hadn’t missed anything before replacing the padlock on the zipper tabs, and then you headed out onto the living room again, taking a seat on the couch and chewing on your lower lip.

You didn’t know how you’d feel seeing Frankie again, but you hoped that you wouldn’t overreact. He’d texted you twice in the previous days - once to ask a question about a list of sites you’d mentioned wanting to see via email, and again to confirm that he’d gotten the reply, but aside from that, there’d been nothing.

And there shouldn’t have been. We don’t even know each other, and … But part of you had been disappointed, even though he’d warned you that it might be a little while before you heard from him. And that meant that you needed to be careful when he knocked, keeping your expression even and not acting like seeing him was a big deal. Even though it is, because … I want to see him.

“Get your shit together and keep it there,” you grumbled as you put your head in your hands, taking a deep breath. “He’s just a guy. He’s just a -”

A sharp knock at the door distracted you, and without pause, you were on your feat and heading to answer it. Frankie stood on the front step with a laptop bag slung over one shoulder, a dark green polo shirt covering the upper half of his body and snug-fitting khakis on the bottom. I’m fucked. Look at him. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” He grinned at you, eyes glittering from beneath the pushed-back brim of his hat. “I brought you a housewarming present.”

“You didn’t have to -” But you laughed when you saw what he was holding, his fingers tightly wrapped around the handle of a travel coffee mug similar to the one you’d taken from his house. Oh, that’s perfect. Reaching out, you took it from his hand. “Thank you, Frankie. Now I don’t have to pretend I forgot where yours is so that I can keep it.”

“I knew it.” He shook his head. “Thief.” Snorting, you stepped to the side and motioned for him to come in. He busied himself with removing his boots and then entered the room fully, turning around in a circle. “This place is a rental? Nice.”

“Yeah, it was my favorite of the three.” Gesturing for him to sit, you inhaled. “Can I get you anything to drink? I have a six pack, or some Coke, and there’s bottled water, too. Tom also gave me a bottle of wine, but I’m not sure if there’s a corkscrew in here.”

“Oh, you got one of those?” He leaned back against the cushions, hands resting on his lap. “Which one’d you get? He’s real partial to the chardonnay, but -”

“No, it’s a red.” Reaching for the bottle, you picked it up and held it out to him. “I didn’t look it up or anything, but -” Frankie’s jaw twitched at the sight of the bottle, and you watched his fingers curl, the man making a quick fist before he relaxed. Over a bottle of wine? “It looks like it might be good, so I thought I’d ask.”

He took the bottle from you, casting his gaze down at the label as he spun it between his fingers. “He picked this for you?” Frankie glanced up, waiting for your nod before he spoke again. “His wife drinks this one. He usually doesn’t hand bottles of this out so I’m kinda surprised.”

“Well that must mean it’s good.” Reaching out, you took the bottle back from him, eyeing the label. “Did you want me to see if -”

“I’m not really a wine guy.” He wrinkled his nose, clearing his throat. “But thanks. I’ll take a Coke if you don’t mind. Could use the caffeine.” Telling him to give you a minute, you went back and into the kitchen, pulling two cups from the stack in the cupboard, and then turning to the refrigerator. “I’ll drink it from the can, don’t need anything fancy.”

Of course you don’t. Grabbing both cans, you headed for where he sat, eyeing the man’s open laptop. “Oh, is that Carmen?” He nodded, looking over at you when you sat down, though you kept your eyes on the screen - a picture of Frankie sitting on a beach with a little girl in his lap taking up the whole thing. “She looks just like you, Frankie. Has your eyes and your nose and -”

“And her mother’s attitude.” He bumped you with his shoulder, laughing. “That was this summer. She loves the beach.”

“I don’t blame her.” You kept your eyes on him, watching as Frankie opened a spreadsheet and what looked like a flight planning software. “You look like you love it, too.”

“I do.” He smiled then, nodding. “So, if you take a look at these …”

For the next twenty minutes, you and Frankie talked over different options for flights, both along the coast and inland. He explained what each would allow you to see, and when you compared his explanation to your notes, you realized that if you went on two or three of the tours, you’d be able to see most of the places you wanted to, even in the short amount of time you’d be in the air. And anything else, I could always circle back to.

“What are you thinking?” He leaned back, reaching up to resituate his hat, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of his arm, the inked skin pulled taut over the muscle beneath it. “Any of these look good?”

“They all do.” You pressed your lips together, nodding. “You took my lists, and just …” Gesturing at the screen, you shrugged. “You made it work. I’m impressed.”

“It’s what I do for a living.” He shrugged. “Just tryin’ to make sure my clients get what they want.” Because that’s what I am, just another client, so … of course. “Where do you want to start?”

“What are we looking at cost wise, Frankie? I’ve got a decent budget, but since these are custom flight plans, I -”

“I think I can give you the friends and family discount.” He smiled, shifting so that he could look at you. “And instead of booking things separately, we can do a multi-flight package, either based on the number of flights or overall minutes.” He waved his hand in the air. “Cost isn’t the important thing right now. We’ll make it work.” We will?

“Are we friends, Frankie?” You sipped your drink, never looking away from him. “I didn’t want to assu-”

“Friends and Family Discount looks much better on the invoice sheet than the ‘We Fucked On The Rug In Front of My Fireplace The First Night We Met Discount’ would, right?” He took a breath, opening his mouth to speak again, but you beat him to it, laughter tumbling from your lips. “What? What did I say?”

“You know exactly what you said, Catfish.” Briefly lowering your head, you took a deep breath. “But yeah, I guess I agree that one of those memo lines is going to raise a lot fewer eyebrows.”

It surprised you that he’d been the one to bring the previous night up first, but Frankie had seemed direct - so it wasn’t a shock. “I want to pay you fairly, Frankie. This is your job and I’m basically a stranger, so you tell me what you think is fair, and we’ll go from there.”

He watched you for a little while, the man’s eyes searching your face, but he stayed quiet.

In a different situation, you would have leaned in, winding a hand around the back of his head and pulling him closer to kiss him before moving even closer to him on the couch. He would have reached out, fingers running along your throat and then tilting your chin to find just the right angle, the laptop and flight plans forgotten as you utilized the comfort of the cushions beneath you. But that’s not happening.

Frankie looked away first, releasing a deep sigh and returning his gaze to his computer. “Uh, alright. Yeah. I think we can make that happen.” He closed his eyes, reaching up to remove the hat and set it on the table next to his computer. “Let’s open my schedule and see what I’ve got free.”

It took another half hour, but you scheduled the first three flights with Frankie - one for that Saturday, one for the following Thursday and then another the following Wednesday - both of you entering them into your calendars so that you didn’t forget. By the time you set your phone down, you were almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of going up in the air with him.

“Do I need to bring anything? Does it get cold? Should I eat before, or -”

He laughed - and that time he was laughing at you, but it wasn’t unkind. You liked the way his face looked when he was amused - a dimple on one cheek, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening with the rise of his cheeks, teeth bared in a grin. He’s handsome. And he’s sitting on my couch and … shit. “Bring yourself. I’ll send over a list of stuff that you can and can’t bring with you - and what you should wear, but rule of thumb is just be comfortable.” He wet his lips, his smile turning into a more subdued one. “We’ll do a doors on flight for your first one.”

“You do flights without the doors?” Leaning in, you widened your eyes. “Well that’s terrifying.” He reached over then, settling his hand on top of yours and squeezing. You dropped your gaze at his touch, mouth opening in shock at the heat and weight of his hand - and how much you’d been wanting to feel it.

“You’re strapped in real tight.” He said your name, pausing until you’d looked up again. “I check the belts before every takeoff.” That’s something to think about another time, because right now, I … I can’t. “If after 3 trips, you want to schedule more, we can. But it’s harder to plan for weather and all that so far out, especially in hurricane season.” He squeezed your hand again and then released it, glancing down at the watch he wore. “Shit. It’s already late. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay so long.”

“Are you hungry, Frankie?” You spoke without giving yourself a chance to second guess it, pulling your hands back into your lap. “Because I am. And I’m sure there are some great places to eat around here. I’m also sure you know all about them.”

“You asking me to dinner?” Tilting his head to the side, he arched a brow, smiling at you. “Because if you are, the answer’s yes, and I know the perfect place, as long as you’re looking for cold beer and good pizza.”

“Sounds perfect.”

—

“So Benny was in the ring with this guy for a big fight, and we were all terrified he was going to get his ass handed to him.” Frankie picked up his glass, head shaking back and forth as he sipped from it. “Not because he was bigger or anything, but because the guy’s eyes were wild. He was ready to beat the shit out of Ben just because he’d have the opportunity, and all we could do was sit and watch.”

He’d been regaling you with stories about himself and his friends while you ordered, waited for and then started eating your pizza, and if there was one thing you were learning about Frankie, it was that he liked talking them up. More them than himself, but … still. You liked hearing him talk - liked the way he’d pushed the professional aspect of your connection to the side in order to treat you like a friend, and you wondered if the admission from earlier had sped things along. Seems like it.

“Did he?” You leaned in, a piece of pizza held in one hand while you eyed him. “Get his ass -”

“No. The power surged and went out, and it threw the other guy way off, so when they finally fought that night, Benny knocked him out before the end of the first round.” Frankie grinned, shrugging. “He used that prize money as part of the bar’s startup with Will, and hasn’t stepped foot into the octagon again since.” Frankie took another drink, his gaze locked on your face. “Took him a couple years to start earnin’ anything, and then when he finally did… he got the fuck outta there while his face still looked pretty enough.”

“It is a very pretty face.” Arching a brow, you shrugged. “Can’t say I blame him for wanting to keep it that way.” Frankie laughed at that, finally looking away and down at his plate, a few small pieces of crust left there. “What about yours?” He looked back up, frowning. “There’s a scar on your cheek, but aside from that, nothing. I noticed it the other night. Did you get that the same day as your arm?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his expression clearing. “Deep cut.” Reaching up, he ran his fingertips over the thin line on his cheekbone. “It also didn’t heal right, but it’s a little harder to hide that one. Can’t exactly tattoo over it.”

“I didn’t mean to call attention to it, Frankie. I just -�� You idiot. “You mentioned punching, and… we were talking about facial injuries and … I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He reached out, laying a hand over yours and squeezing. “You can see it, it’s fair game.”

“It shouldn’t be -”

“Stop it.” He squeezed again and then let go, leaning back in the booth and swiping a hand through the unruly curls on the top of his head. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I mean it.” He winked at you, clearing his throat. “I’ve heard scars are sexy, anyway. So maybe I’ve got that goin’ for me.”

“Definitely.” Nodding as you schooled your expression into a serious one, you winked back at him, “Very sexy, Frankie.”

That broke the slight tension that you’d created, and for the next ten minutes, conversation drifted back to the easy banter you’d established throughout the rest of the meal. But it’s getting late, and he’s got flights tomorrow… so I need to cut this short. “I know you’re going to have to head out soon, but I do have a question for you.”

Frankie nodded, finishing his beer and leaning back in, lacing his fingers together on the tabletop. “Shoot.”

“I need to do a couple hikes and some exploring the area, but I like to do that at different times of the day.” Spinning the straw in your water cup, you paused, taking a deep breath. “I know that realistically I’m not going to get eaten by an alligator as long as I stay on the hiking trails and don’t try to swim in random lakes and rivers, but …” You have to do it. Just do it now. “Frankie, I’ve seen the articles. I know it happens, but there’s been pretty consistent animal attacks in this general vicinity for the last couple month, and I need to do my job, but -”

“But you want to know if it’s safe.” He sighed, the sound heavy, and for the first time, you saw actual concern in his eyes. “I’m glad you’re taking it seriously, to be honest. A lot of people don’t, and they think they can just wander around and it’ll be fine.” Well in most cases it is. But most places don’t have werewolves running around, either. “If you’re hiking during the day, there’s really nothin’ to worry about. The gators are around, but you can see them. And the big cats stay pretty well hidden.”

“What about at night? Or close to -”

“I wouldn’t do anything alone at night if you’re not familiar with the area.” His tone was even, though the intensity in his eyes was anything but. “Walking around the neighborhood is one thing, but not trails. I wouldn’t camp by myself. I wouldn’t go near any water at night.” He wet his lips, sighing. “Unless you were with someone.”

“Well unluckily for me, I only know about five people in Tampa, so -”

“Pope’s not workin’ right now. And even Will and Benny take time off.” His smile returned, Frankie’s eyes warming, too. “And I know that I’d personally love to hang out with you more. So if you ever need a buddy, you can ask one of us, and I’m sure we’ll be around.”

“You don’t even know me, Frankie. Neither do they. It -”

“Bullshit.” He narrowed his eyes briefly, his eyes moving up and down over your face. “I know enough. And if I vouch for you … it’s good enough for them.” Frankie’s declaration made you feel warm, your heartbeat thumping against the inside of your ribcage as you wordlessly stared at him. That would solve a lot of my problems, but it seems to good to be true. I just stumble on a group of guys that are ready and willing to help me out? “No pressure. I’d just hate thinking of you wandering around alone in a place you don’t know when we’re all right here.”

“Do you think I could convince Pope or Benny to camp with me?” Closing your eyes, you winced. “Probably not Pope because he’s got a girlfriend and that would be weird, but -”

“What about me?” He took a deep breath and held it, staring at you. “We’ve already spent the night together once, so you know there’s no other woman for you to worry about.” Does that mean he wants to spend the night together again? Is he hinting at it? Does he - “Unless you want to get to know Benny better.”

“No. That’s not it.” You looked away from him, taking a few seconds to scan the crowd before you spoke again. “You have to get up so early for your flights, and I didn’t think a night of sleeping on the ground would be good for your back.” Go for it. Flirt back. Hint. “Even though it didn’t seem to bother you when we were on your floor.”

You watched his expression change, his eyes darkening at the same time his lips curved upward and into a sly smile. But there was nothing alarming about it - it was just desire written on his features, the man looking at you like he had the other night. Like he wants me. Like that was the right thing to say. “Can I tell you something?” The smile softened, and Frankie reached up, scratching at the side of his head. “We’ve got a camper. None of us use it enough to own one outright but …” He nodded, head cocked to the right. “The bed’s pretty damn comfortable and I think you’d agree.”

You knew in that moment that you and Frankie would end up in bed together again - and likely not just in a way that meant only sleeping next to each other. And I’m alright with that. I’m very alright with that. “Well that changes things.” You paused, still eyeing him. “I might have to take you up on that.”

“Good. That’s why I suggested it.” He glanced down, checking his watch. “I hate to cut this short, but I need to get home.” Frankie chewed on the inside of his cheek for a few moments and then grinned, flattening his hands on the table. “I have to get up early for my flights tomorrow.” Both of you laughed, Frankie reaching for the check that had been folded and set on the edge of your table. “Dinner’s on me.”

You opened your mouth to tell him that he didn’t need to worry about it, but decided against it, watching as he opened his wallet and pulled out cash. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t want to. “Thank you.” You finished your water, following his lead when he stood up. “I’m sorry I didn’t drive myself, now you have to take me back before you can go home.”

“It’s a couple extra minutes. No big deal.” You started walking toward the exit, Frankie a half step behind you. “And I’m the one that suggested me driving.” I know, but … He reached past you to open the door, and when you walked by, thanking him, you felt the press of his hand against your back, the touch sending a shockwave through you.

You hadn’t previously had the kind of reaction to anyone that you were having to Frankie, and even though it alarmed you, it felt right. Remember that this is temporary. If everything went well, you’d be done with your hunt within a few weeks - and able to leave Florida immediately after. But I could stay, and finish the research for the book here. Frowning as you crossed the parking lot, you tried to think ahead.

If you found the wolf in Florida, it would allow you to close another link between the lower-level wolves and the ones at the head of the Chaos line. But just because I get rid of this one, that doesn’t mean the problem is solved. It was a never ending quest, and you realistically knew that your search for the end of the line would never be realized. But what I do now will help people in the future. Alec, too. And -

“You alright?” Frankie’s hand was still on you, the man standing much closer than he had been as you approached the truck. “You look like you’re spacing out.” I am.

“Yeah. Just thinking.” You stopped next to the passenger door, turning back to face Frankie. “I’ve only been here a week, and it feels like everything’s falling into place a little too easily, Frankie.” He nodded, his silhouette backlit by the overhead lampposts. “It’s a lot of work, and I’m a little overwhelmed, but it shouldn’t be anything new to me, because …” Because this has been my life since I turned eighteen, but this is the first time there’s been a you involved. “I don’t want to trust it.”

“Take it one day at a time.” He moved closer, his arms crossed over his chest. “That’s all you can do, right?” I guess. “You’ve got time. You’re renting that apartment for what, three months?” You nodded in agreement, and Frankie mirrored the movement. “Now that you’ve got a place to stay, you can settle. Get comfortable.” He was right - and you knew it, nodding again as you raised a hand to cover your face.

“Frankie Morales, the voice of reason.” He snorted, stifling a laugh.

“Don’t let any of my friends hear you say that.” He reached up, pulling the hat from his head and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans before rubbing at his eyes. “I could stand here talking to you all night, but …” Shit. Right.

You winced, reaching behind you for the door handle, but froze when you saw the look on Frankie’s face. He was watching you intently, eyes locked with yours - and for a brief second, you thought he was going to lean in and kiss you. And I want him to. I really want him to. It had been simmering between you the entire night - thinly veiled innuendos, flirtatious comments, the casual touching - and in some ways, you thought that maybe breaking the ice with a kiss in the parking lot would have made things easier. Especially if he does it this time.

But Frankie didn’t lean in.

Instead, you watched as his jaw tightened before he stepped away, circling around to the other side of the truck and leaving you next to the passenger side, your eyes wide and your lips parted in surprise. Well, alright then.

You climbed into the cab of the truck and settled in, fastening your seatbelt and then closing your eyes. The two of you had established a boundary and he was only sticking to it - you couldn’t blame him. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.

“What’ve you got going on tomorrow?” He spoke as he pulled onto the main road, eyes on the windshield. “Anything important?”

“I might actually go to the beach.” You hummed, staring out the passenger window for a few seconds. “Clearwater, I think. The weather’s supposed to be good, so I might as well take advantage of it.”

“You should.” He nodded, the movement catching your attention. “It’s nice. I really like St. Pete Beach, too, but Clearwater’s a good place to start.”

“Well then maybe when I go to St. Pete, you should come with me.” You froze even as you were speaking, closing your eyes and wrinkling your nose. Shit. Shit, that sounds …

“Alright.” He turned his head to look at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m gonna hold you to that.” Murmuring an agreement, you didn’t say anything else until he was pulling into your driveway, his headlights sweeping over the front of your apartment.

“Thanks for tonight. Nothing like a couple beers and some pizza with adequate company.”

“Adequate? That all I am?” He nudged you with his elbow, laughter apparent in his voice. “I’m wounded.”

“You know what I mean.” Shifting in your seat to unbuckle your seatbelt, you laughed. “Seriously, though. Thank you. I think one of the worst parts of this job is how temporary everything feels. Doesn’t matter how much I like a place, I know it’s not going to be forever and I have no real connection to it. This … you are helping it not feel like that this time.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded, still watching you. “Anytime.” Do you mean that? “I’ll send over that list for your flight prep tomorrow morning. Look for it when you wake up.”

“Will do. Goodnight, Frankie.” You paused, taking a breath. “Fly safe tomorrow.”

“Always do.” His smile widened - and then to your surprise, he leaned in, wrapping one arm around you in a hug. It surprised you but you welcomed it, one of your hands settling against his side as you inhaled again, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils. God he smells good. “Have fun at the beach.” He backed away, straightening up, though his hand trailed slowly down your arm, the tips of his fingers dragging over your knuckles. “See you Saturday afternoon.”

Assuring him that you’d be there, you tore yourself away from him and opened the door, heading for the apartment and putting your hand on the doorknob before you looked back. Frankie was watching you, the light in the cab on so that you could see him clearly. Fuck he’s handsome. Raising your free hand in a quick wave, you waited for his nod before turning back to the front door and pushing the key into the lock and twisting.

The interior space was dark and quiet, but the scent of Frankie lingered. No, maybe that’s wishful thinking. Rolling your eyes, you locked the door and then headed for the bedroom, deciding that there was no point in pulling your research out again that night, even though it was before 10. I won’t get anything done.

Instead, you changed into pajamas and got a beach bag ready for the next day, dropping it next to the front door and then climbing into bed.

You turned the TV on, counting on the glow to help you wind down … but not even fifteen minutes later, you were sound asleep.

—

By the time you were shaking the sand off and packing your stuff back into the car the following day, you’d put things into perspective - not only in terms of Frankie, but in terms of the time you were spending in Florida, too.

The sun and sand had been exactly what you needed to relax and get your thoughts together. It hadn’t been too crowded on the beach, and you’d found a place to stretch out without difficulty, spreading an oversized towel on the sand and sinking onto it.

You’d drifted off more than a few times, the sound of the waves and gulf breeze lulling you to sleep. But when you were awake you were thinking, your mind working overtime to organize everything going on inside of it.

Frankie keeping things professional was smart. You’d had your fun with him, and he was easy to flirt with - but it couldn’t be more than that. You still thought that at some point, you’d end up in bed with him again, but it didn’t need to be immediately. There was a physical connection as well as an emotional one - at least on some level - but you were more than capable of keeping things professional, especially if it got you the information and access you needed.

You’d also considered the locations of the first three cases in Florida, and decided that you needed to focus on alternate choices. You didn’t think the wolf would return to a former site, even though to you, that would have made sense - a single territorial animal defending its habitat was less likely to raise eyebrows than seemingly random attacks throughout the area. But he wouldn’t change the pattern of behavior now. And there are so many other places to choose from.

It narrowed things down and expanded the list of sites you needed to consider at the same time - but you were confident in your assessment. And once you had the maps in front of you again, you could start to formulate your plan of attack.

You had a little under 3 weeks to figure things out, and wanted to use as much of the time as possible without working yourself too hard. Because it won’t do me any good to exhaust myself before the full moon.

Stuffing your bag and the towel into the backseat and giving your legs one final brush off with the palm of your hand, you turned back toward the water, smiling. The sun was beginning set, and you decided to stop somewhere and grab dinner on your way home, leaving one less thing between you and more research. It’s going to be a late night. My flight tomorrow isn’t until the afternoon, so …

The list from Frankie had been no-nonsense, and you could tell that it was a standard one that he sent out to all clients. But it had still made you smile as you read it, the instructions making it clear that Frankie had rules you needed to follow if you wanted the ride to go smoothly. And I do.

Before you could get any deeper in thought, you felt your phone vibrating in your back pocket, one hand reaching for it while you opened the car door with the other. The name on the screen shocked you, though - both eyes widening as you scrambled to answer it. “Alec? Hey! It’s been so long, how are you?”

“I know. I’m sorry.“ He paused, the familiar voice filled with amusement. “And I’m great, how are you?”

“Busy.” Closing the door, you put the key into the ignition so you could open the window, letting the salt air in. “But good. This is a real … I feel sure about this one, Alec.”

“Seems like it from the pictures.” He cleared his throat, saying your name. “Are you being careful? I worry about you, y’know?”

“I am. I made a couple friends here and they think I’m just working on the book, but …” You smiled as you thought of the group at the bar, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. “But it’s nice to have company. I got an apartment, too. So I’m not in a hotel anymore and that’s great.” He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say anything else. Weird. “Where are you? You should come here. Work this with me. I know we haven’t been in the same place in a while, but it would -”

“I’m actually going to see my mom in the next couple days.” He paused, taking a breath. “I’m in Texas right now. Odessa.”

“Is there something going on in Texas?” You chewed on your lip, eyes narrowed. “I can’t think of anything that -”

“There’s something going on, but it has nothing to do with …” He trailed off and then sighed. “Nothing to do with what you think it does.” It wasn’t like Alec to be so cagey, and it immediately put you on edge, but you didn’t want to push if he had no interest in telling you what was going on. “I wanted to do this in person, but I don’t think there’s time. Fuck.”

“Alec? Is everything alright?” Your fingers curled around the wheel, heart rate increasing. “You sound -”

“I’ve been lying to you. And I hate it, but …” Lying? What - “I’m not working on instinct or just using the information we already have.” He paused again, and you could picture the expression on his face, brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m… I’m working with a wolf, the same way our relatives used to. I have been for almost two years.”

It didn’t surprise you as much as you thought it would, but you still felt a slight sting of betrayal at his lie, your grip on the device tightening. “Just one, or -”

“A pack.” Closing your eyes, you let out a breath. “They’re spread out over western Texas and Mexico and New Mexico, but yeah, they’ve been pretty helpful. They know who I am and what I’m… we’re doing and … they understand.” Of course they do.

“Good. I’m glad, Alec. I’m glad you have -”

“One of them, Ashley … she’s been with me on a few of my more recent stakeouts. She’s come to different locations with me and has … helped.”

“Helped?”

“Some of them can turn at will, depending on the control they have over themselves. She’s one of them. And she… wanted to come. She wanted to help, because she can cover more ground.” It hit you then. The hesitation in his voice wasn’t because he was afraid to tell you about Ashley and the wolves he was working with - it was because there was something else he wasn’t saying. Wait a minute.

“Are you sleeping with her, Alec? You -”

“I’m marrying her.” You froze, the sound that was coming through the open car window fading as you tried to process his words. Marrying her? He … that … “She’s pregnant. Due at the end of December. And I need to be there with her when she has the baby, because ….”

“Because it might be a wolf.” He agreed, but didn’t say anything else, and for a few long seconds, both of you were entirely silent. I was not expecting that. “Was she … was she born into it, or -”

“She was. So there’s a good chance that the baby will be, too. I think …” He repeated your name, giving you a few moments to think. “I think I might be out after this.”

It would leave you alone - continuing to look for the source of the Chaos line without any backup, Alec giving up the nomad lifestyle to stick with his family. I can’t blame him. It makes sense. “Congratulations, Alec.” You meant it - your tone only wavering slightly. “You must be excited. Does your mom know?”

“She knows I’m with Ashley. And mom knows Ashley’s family history, but we’re …. Going to tell her about the baby when we’re home.”

“So you’re going to Nevada now, and then?”

“She’s going to have the baby in Texas. It makes sense just in case. Mom’s… they’ve already said she can be here with us. I don’t know how it works, but there’s been a couple full moons since we found out, and everything looks good. We had to find a doctor that understands, but …”

It put things into perspective for you - the fact that there were medical professionals that not only knew of the existence of wolves, but actively treated them, too - and that gave you something else to consider as you moved forward. “If you don’t want me to meet either of them, I understand, Alec.” Swallowing hard, you closed your eyes and gripped the steering wheel with one hand. “Once you’re out of this, it’ll be harder, and you’ll need to focus on them and not on -”

“Of course I want you to meet them.” He laughed, the tension easing slightly. “And if your leads play out in Florida, maybe you’ll have some time free afterward.”

“Maybe.” You watched as a man and a woman walked in front of your car, their fingers linked tightly together. “Maybe you’re right.” There was silence for a few seconds and then Alec cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Maybe after we see my mom, maybe … maybe we’ll come to Florida. Ashley might be able to make some connections, and if I can help you close this one out, it’ll…. It’ll be a good way to end my involvement, you know? One more before the kid comes? And you can meet Ash, and …”

“I’ll be here.” You knew that telling him it was unnecessarily dangerous wouldn’t accomplish anything. Alec made his own decisions, and from the sound of it, so did Ashley. “I only have one bedroom in my place, though. Might be a tight fit, even for a couple days.”

“We’ll let you know.” You heard someone talking in the background on his end, and then Alec sighed again, the sound turning into a quiet laugh. “And that means we’ll probably see you in a couple weeks, just before the full moon.”

“Keep me updated, alright?” He assured you he would, but before you could begin to say goodbye, your phone vibrated in your hand. Who could that be? Pulling the device away from your ear, you thumbed at the screen, blinking in shock at the sight of Frankie’s name and a new text. “Take care of yourselves, though. We both know how your mom gets when she’s blindsided by news.”

Alec laughed again and told you he would, the man saying goodbye and hanging up before you did. And then you opened Frankie’s text, chewing on the inside of your lip as you read it.

We still on for tomorrow?

“You bet your ass we are, Morales.” You mumbled the words out loud as you typed, assuring him that you wouldn’t miss it. It only took a few seconds for the bubbles to appear as he answered you, his message short and to the point.

Good. I’m looking forward

The text was followed by another one moments later, and at the correction - “looking forward to it***”, you actually laughed out loud, leaning forward and resting your forehead on the steering wheel. Oh, Frankie.

You had a lot to think about, and Alec’s news, though exciting for him, didn’t solve any problems. In fact, it created new ones for you, and meant that for the first time in your adult life, you’d be alone in your search. But he’s not abandoning me. He’s doing it for his family. There’s a difference.

Eyeing Frankie’s messages one final time, you darkened the screen and then set the navigation to take you back to your new apartment. I don’t need to worry about that now. All I have to worry about is tomorrow.

—

When you showed up at Peter O. Knight airport the following afternoon, your mood was less than great.

It had nothing to do with Frankie and everything to do with the sudden change in the status quo with Alec. You’d lain awake for hours the previous night, running through scenarios in your head and come to only one conclusion: once your cousin left the search, you’d be more alone - and in more danger - than you’d ever been in before.

Throughout the history of your family’s search, there’d never only been one person looking at a time. Your relatives had started out in pairs, and then as communication opportunities improved, solo searches had become less uncommon, though there was always someone waiting in the wings to back them up if necessary.

You and Alec had been that for each other since you’d turned eighteen, and the fact that everything would be changing almost overnight was troubling. It was one thing for someone to take a step back because of a relationship or a family - that had happened plenty of times before, but always with adequate warning. And he blindsided me. He blindsided me with a marriage and a pregnancy.

It wasn’t even that Ashley was a wolf. That fact surprised you, sure, but you knew that if they’d been working together for years, he knew the woman and her family well enough to make an educated decision. She’s not part of the line we’re looking for. Sighing, you shook your head back and forth, eyes landing on Frankie’s truck, which was parked off to the side of a small office-like building. But that doesn’t mean we can stop looking entirely, because they’re out there.

Taking two deep breaths, you grabbed your bag and then got out of the car, heading for the building. As you got closer, you smiled at the sight of the lettering on the door’s glass, Fly With Fish affixed in big, bold font.

He was waiting for you inside, the man’s face breaking into a grin as he stood up behind a small wooden desk, extending a hand. “Hey! You’re early, it’s -” But he paused mid-sentence, the smile turning into a frown. “Everything alright?”

You could have lied to him - brushed it off as something that happened in traffic on the way over, or something that had gone wrong with your book research. What came out of your mouth instead surprised even you.

“Family bullshit, Frankie. My cousin called me last night and broke some news, and it’s just … the more I think about it, the more it sucks.” He rounded the desk without saying anything, and before you knew what was happening, his arms were around you and pulling you closer so that your cheek was pressed to his chest. Oh, he…

There was no hesitation on his part that day - no attempt to keep himself from being close to you, and Frankie’s hug lingered, both of his hands pressed flat against your back, and yours settled low on his hips. “I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly, but you heard them nonetheless, his hold on you tightening. “Family shit sucks.”

“It does.” More than you know. Squeezing your eyes shut, you took a deep breath and savored the scent of him - some sort of woodsy cologne with a little bit of spiciness to it - and then you backed away enough to meet his eyes, forcing a smile. “But knowing I had something to look forward to today helped.”

The man’s lips twitched into a small smile, and you had to fight with yourself not to reach up and tuck a wayward curl behind his ear. But when he winked at you, you couldn’t stop your own grin, your fingers curling briefly before you dropped your hands, Frankie’s following soon after when he released you.

“Well then, let’s get you up in the air, hmm?” He nodded when you did, holding eye contact for a little longer and letting you watch as the excitement crept into his, the brown warming to a beautiful golden hue as his pupils dilated. “I can’t promise to make everything better, but I can promise you the best damn view of Tampa from above that you could ask for.”

You were thrilled at the thought of seeing the city - and the coastline - from above, but a larger part of you was much more excited to spend the time with Frankie, getting a better idea of how he looked at everything. And being stuck right next to him for half an hour will make things a hell of a lot better, too.

—

tag list coming soon!

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #liminality #pedro pascal character #liminality masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #frankie morales masterlist #tag list

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somethingtofightfor-shares · 1 year ago

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Tag list reblog!

Add yourself to my tag list here!

All Pedro:

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@lexloon @loveslide @qhbr2013 @your-voice-is-mellifluous @iluvstrawberry @Littlenosoul @Trinkets01 @thevoiceinyourheadx @peqchsoup @shadowolf993 @alitaar @Marvel-sw-lover @Racetrackheart @Avengersfan25 @sgt-morgan @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ofallthechemicalboys @Hiddlebatchedloki @gracie7209 @Professionalpromqueen @mashomasho @titalbel

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Liminality:

@runningmom94 @anoverwhelmingdin

Tags didn’t work: @raspberrymama @mysteriouslyfuzzypeach @scorpiowidow @lumenseal @maladaptivemando @Vonschweetz @rominaszh @Hauntedmama @t0fudaddy

Liminality: Part 2

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 10,219

Rating: M - language, mature content, alcohol consmption ... nothing too out of the ordinary for the TF universe though.

Summary: Meeting Frankie to discuss booking tours with him should be a simple, quick thing.... right?

But nothing goes according to plan with him, and it turns out that his friends are not shy about intervening.

Author’s note:

Thank you so much for the response to the first chapter of this story! I'm really excited that all of you seem to be enjoying this version of Frankie so far, and I hope that you continue to do so the further along we get into it.

If you ever want to talk about this - or any of my work - my inbox is always open. Enjoy.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras' + previous chapters)

You felt at ease the moment you walked into the bar.

It stunned you - how homey the place felt, even though you’d never been there before. At first glance, it was a typical sports bar - large TVs mounted everywhere, framed pictures and posters on the walls, plush, comfortable booths and an assortment of tables and chairs arranged around an ornate, polished wood bar. But upon closer inspection, you saw that the posters weren’t all sports-themed, though some of them were.

Instead, they were of people - some in varying military uniforms, others of families, more of groups of what you assumed were friends. There were pictures of people with pets and even some of landscapes - beaches and palm trees along with mountainous and tropical-looking locations.

It was a hodgepodge of things, but it made the place feel welcoming and not too unapproachable as someone that hadn’t been in before. A place I’d want to spend time. As you made your way over to the bar, you glanced around to see who else was in the large room.

It wasn’t full, but a number of the tables and barstools were filled, the conversation at a decent, manageable level. This is not what I expected. At all. You chose one of the open barstools with seats available on either side and set your bag down on the bartop, glancing around. I don’t see him, so that means I got here first.

You weren’t quite second guessing yourself, but if you’d said you weren’t apprehensive about meeting Frankie, you would have been lying. “Hey there. What can I get you?”

A voice pulled you from your thoughts and when you looked up, you were met with bright blue eyes and slicked back blonde hair, the man behind the bar’s grin wide. Cute. “Hi. I’m waiting for someone, so maybe just a water and a food menu right now, if you’ve got one?”

“Sure.” He bent down and then set a menu in front of you, winking. “Sunday Happy Hour goes til 7, and I definitely recommend the pickles.” He turned away and grabbed a glass, spinning back to face you while he began to fill it with ice. “I’m Benny, by the way, and I own this place. So if you need anything, you know where to find me.” The Benny? Interesting.

Benny slid the glass and a coaster toward you, reaching for the garnish dish with one hand and deftly twisting a lemon onto the rim, just next to the straw. Thanking him, you took a sip and flipped the menu open, looking through the pages.

Part of you was just keeping yourself busy until Frankie arrived, and another part of you was working - taking stock of things in case you decided to include the bar in your next release. Everything sounds good. Smiling as you trailed your finger down the page and read the options, you lingered on some of the names, wondering if they had anything to do with inside jokes. Maybe I’ll ask.

“See anything you want?” Benny was back, leaning against the bar and eyeing you. “Or do you have any questions?”

“I’d eat 90% of the menu, to be honest.” Wrinkling your nose, you stared at him. “But I still think I’m going to wait to order.”

“Are they running late? Can I at least get you something to snack on?” He seemed genuinely concerned, but you wondered if it was partially an act - the man working someone he’d never seen before in order to try and get a better tip. Either way, it was nice to be out and talking to someone in a relaxed setting, and so you took advantage of it.

“Chips would be great, Benny. And I’m not sure.” Turning your head to look toward the door, you shrugged. “I’m actually meeting your friend Frankie here tonight. I’m in town for work and need to book some time in his helicopter, so -”

“You’re waiting for ‘Fish?” Benny’s eyes widened in surprise, but his smile grew, too. “Damn, I was not expecting that.” Why? Why’s that such a surprise? “How the hell’d you -”

“Stop grilling the poor woman, Benjamin.” Sucking in a breath at the sound of his voice, you turned toward it, heart pounding. “You’re going to scare her off before I get her up in the air.” There’s no chance of that whatsoever.

He was even better looking in person - the man’s hair longer than in the pictures you’d seen and curling over his ears, though most of it was hidden with a well-worn baseball cap. He looked at you briefly and grinned, giving you a quick wink before his eyes slid back to Benny. How is it possible that he looks like that? Wow. “Aw, come on. I was just makin’ conversation.”

“I met Tom this afternoon, too.” You looked at the blonde, too, shrugging. “I’m looking for a place to rent because I’m here writing a tourism book, and he recommended Frankie to me. He also recommended this place, in kind of an offhand way, but Frankie suggested we meet here because he was coming anyway.” You sipped your water again, glancing over at the man who’d taken a seat next to you, fingers laced together and his hands resting on the bar. “An interesting series of events, but … here we are.” His profile is …

Both men laughed at that, and hearing Frankie’s laugh in person was even better than over the phone - as was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled while he laughed, his head tilted back slightly. Looking is fine. You can look at him all you want. “You want your usual, ‘Fish?”

Frankie agreed and then Benny turned back to you, one eyebrow cocked. “Those chips for now, please.” You pointed at the menu, tapping your finger on one of the mixed drink specialties. “And one of these, too.” Nodding in agreement, the man moved away from where the two of you sat, typing your order in. That left you alone with Frankie, and after taking a breath to steady yourself, you spun on your seat to face him, holding your hand out. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

He took your hand, his grip firm and his palm warm, the man’s eyes locked with yours. “I’m glad you decided to come. Francisco Morales, but you can call me Frankie.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go and then dropped his back onto the bartop, drumming his fingers against the wood as his smile grew. “You’ve had a busy day.”

“I have.” Laughing in return, you rolled your eyes and held one hand up as you shrugged. “But it’s been productive. I’ve only been here for like 36 hours and a couple things have fallen into place, so I can’t complain.”

Frankie kept smiling, both eyes closing briefly. “Well as soon as Benny over there gets his shit together and gives us our drinks, we’ll go and sit at a table so you can tell me what it is you want from me. How’s that sound?” It was your turn to grin at him as you nodded, but before you could say anything, Benny was back and pushing two glasses toward you and Frankie.

“You do realize I can hear you?” He glared at Frankie, the expression making him look much younger than you assumed him to be. “And that you shouldn’t ever fuck with the people that make your food and drinks, right?”

Frankie laughed again, his fingers closing around the condensation-covered glass. “Oh, I know you can hear me loud and clear. But you know that I don’t give a -”

“Don’t fall for it.” Benny bent his elbow, balancing his weight on the top of the bar and leaning forward to look at you. “The shit I could tell you about this one would make your head spin.” His lips twitched as he held back a grin of his own, so you wrinkled your nose, leaning in closer to him. Why not? They’re having fun, there’s no reason I shouldn’t, too.

“I won’t, I swear.” Lowering your voice into a stage whisper, you glanced over at Frankie and then met Benny’s eyes. “I’m just going to use him for his piloting skills…. And maybe see if he’s willing to pay for this drink.”

Benny’s laughter erupted from his lips, and without pause, he dropped his hand atop yours and squeezed once. “You won’t even need him to do that. Your first drink’s on me as a welcome to Tampa… and because you’re going to need it to sit through a full conversation with him.”

You thanked him through a laugh, and then Benny turned back to talk to another customer, leaving you and Frankie to yourselves. “C’mon. There’s a booth open.” He sipped his beer, licking his lips to clear the foam from them. “Let’s get away from this damn bar and the more irritating Miller brother.”

“Heard that, you jackass.” Benny grumbled the words as he passed, but you were quick to agree, you and Frankie gathering your things and heading for a booth in the corner. He slid in across from you, and once you were both settled, he groaned, closing his eyes.

“I am an asshole.” What? “Like Benny said, welcome to Tampa.” Holding the glass out, he waited until you raised yours, too, the man tilting it forward to clink the rims against each other. “Cheers to you and good luck with the writing.”

“Thank you, Frankie.” You kept your eyes on him as you finally sipped the drink - an Andean Sunrise - letting the tartness coat your tongue. “Damn, that’s good.”

“It is. Can’t drink too many of ‘em, because the OJ is hard on my stomach, but every now and then I’ll order one.” He took another drink, leaning back in the booth and reaching up to resituate the hat on his head. Your eyes were drawn to the movement, watching the flex of his bicep beneath the thin material of the longsleeve shirt he wore, but Frankie didn’t let you stare for long. “So why don’t you tell me more about what you’re doing here and how I can help you?”

He’s getting right to it. Either that means he’s efficient or he’s trying to hustle me out of here. You hoped it was the first - you were enjoying the time you spent with Frankie in the bar. More people had come in while you waited and while you ordered, but it still wasn’t overwhelmingly busy - just homey.

Taking another sip, you tried to decide where you wanted to begin your explanation. Well, I’m here to investigate these attacks and figure out whether or not a werewolf is responsible for them so I can find and kill it. “I’ve got a mildly successful online presence in the travel and tourism sphere, and I’m looking to write a book that focuses on this area - and a couple others in the southern states that aren’t as popular as places like New Orleans or Miami or Orlando.” Raising and lowering your shoulders in a shrug, you continued. “A helicopter tour makes sense so I can see the layout of things, you know? The coast. The city. Inland - over the parks and waterways and all that.”

“So you’d need a couple personalized flight plans.” He was watching you intently, head cocked to one side. “The coast and city are ones I offer a few different versions of depending on length, but inland?” He rubbed the palm of one hand against his chin, eyes narrowed. “Which parts?”

“Places where there’s stuff to see and do, I guess?” Places where bodies have been found or might be found in the future. Places where a wolf could hide. “Camping? Those boat tours where I have no idea how people don’t get eaten by alligators every single day? Taking pictures from above will give my readers an idea of how big these places are, and help to drive home the point that Florida isn’t just beaches and flashy cities and overpriced amusement parks.”

He watched you closely while you spoke, the man’s gaze intense - but not intimidating. He was listening to what you were saying, nodding slowly along with each new suggestion you made. “I’d have to file different flight plans, make sure I’m allowed to fly over those places. Might take some time to get approved, but I can look into it.” He sipped his beer again. “Chips are coming.” He gestured with his chin. “Everything else, too.”

Moments later, a waitress dropped off a tray of food - your basket of fresh sliced and fried chips, a platter of boneless wings and fries for Frankie and what looked like a sampler platter of different appetizers for you to share. “Enjoy, you two.” She grinned at Frankie and then winked, her eyes lingering on him before she turned away. I’m not surprised, but that was still pretty bold.

“Boneless wings?” Biting your lip, you pointed with one finger. “You look like an actual wing guy to me.”

“You got me.” He picked up one of the pieces of chicken, popping it into his mouth and chewing before he continued. “I usually get regular wings. They taste better, but they’re messy. And despite his teasing, it seems like Benny’s trying to keep me from embarrassing myself in front of you.” This is a work meeting though. Embarrassing himself? What? “Which makes sense, because who’s gonna want to get into a helicopter with some guy that can’t eat a wing without smearing sauce all over his face?”

“Hmm.” You chewed on a chip, brows knit in thought. “I’d actually be more concerned about a man that didn’t get messy eating wings.” Gesturing to the basket, you shrugged, deciding to test the waters. “I don’t trust anyone afraid to get their face and fingers a little… saucy.” That earned you another laugh, though you also caught his slight intake of breath beforehand. Ok, so that one landed. Frankie ate another wing before he pointed at them and then at you, raising a brow because his mouth was too full to speak. “I’m good, thank you. Maybe next time.” You wanted one - they looked delicious - but instead opted to reach for the plate of appetizers, taking something from there at random. “We can finish the work talk once we’re done eating, if you want.”

“Sure.” He picked up a mozzarella stick, biting into it and giving you something else to watch as the cheese stretched between the bitten end and his lips. “What else do you want to talk about?”

If it had been a date, you would have asked him about himself. You would have told him about yourself - not the hunter parts, but the rest of it. You would have steered the conversation away from the helicopter and toward getting to know the man as a person and not by his profession. But it’s not a date, and I’m here for a reason, so… “Can you tell me a little more about this place and you and your friends? Based on the last half hour, I’ll definitely include it in my book, so -”

“On the record or off?” He wiped sauce from the corner of his mouth with one finger, still staring. “Because if Benny thinks he’s got stories about me, I’ve definitely got stuff I can tell you that he’s got no idea about.”

It took you by surprise - Frankie was almost blatantly hitting on you, challenging you to ask him to tell you more than would have been appropriate for an interview. Hmm. Well then…

“Off. Tom said that you guys were all military buddies, so I’m assuming that’s how you met, but how do you go from that to owning a bar like this or having your own tour company? None of you are that old, so you can’t have been out for too long.”

“Tom’s the oldest. He’s been out the longest. Pope got medically discharged a little while after him, because of his neck and knees.” Frankie sighed. “Will and me, we got out at the same time. Benny was about a year after us, and we all tried to get used to civilian life again.”

“They decided to open a bar?” You looked around, eyeing your surroundings. “You can definitely see the influence here, so it seems like it worked well.”

“Not right away. We all kind of drifted. Pope went to South America to see what he could do there. Tom started sellin’ houses. Will … did some motivational speaking, and I starting doing helo tours. Benny actually…” Frankie laughed softly, releasing a long breath. “He started doing fights, like… cage fights? MMA?” Your eyes went back to the blonde man behind the bar and for the first time, you noticed his build. A fighter makes sense. Bet he was pretty good at it. “But that didn’t last, and once we were all together again, and had some … options, they picked this one.”

You wondered what he meant by options, but decided not to question it - at least right then. “How long ago did this place open? It looks new.”

“Two and a half years.” He gestured around and then leaned in, resting both elbows on the table. “It’s been a learning experience for ‘em. Luckily, Will’s wife has a lot of good ideas and is real good with accounting. She’s been a damn godsend for them. We all help out when we can, too. I’m pretty handy when it comes to maintenance, and Pope… well, Pope can fill a room with his personality.”

“And Tom?” You leaned in, too, eyeing him. “What’s his part in this?”

“Well he got you here, didn’t he?” Frankie winked, settling back against the booth’s cushioned back. “He recommends this place to people that are moving to the area, or are looking to move here, and even though we don’t know many of them actually show up…” Frankie rubbed his hands together. “One’s better than none.”

It was an interesting way to categorize Tom’s involvement in the bar, and for the first time you wondered if he was going to show up that night since Frankie was supposed to meet his friends. It would make sense. “Tom didn’t get me here tonight, you did.” You hummed, leaning back and getting comfortable without looking away. “But if he comes tonight, I’ll tell him that it was thanks to his recommendation if you want.”

“No.” Frankie’s voice dropped with the single word, the man unblinking as he stared at you. “Tom had nothing to do with this.” Your breathing quickened, fingers curling toward your palms. He’s serious. And he’s still flirting with me, there’s no doubt about it. “So you just got to Florida, hmm?” You nodded at his question, fingers flexing in your lap. “Where were you before you were here?”

“Louisiana. I was in the Lake Charles area, but I spent some time in Baton Rouge, too. Thought about stopping in Tallahassee, but something about Tampa just …” Shrugging, you pressed your lips together. There were more bodies here. “Figured it was the right place to come.”

“Yeah?” Frankie took the final sip of his beer, still watching you. “Well I hope you’re right about that. Florida’s… a lot, but there’s some good parts, too.”

“Like what?” You laughed, leaning forward and resting your elbow on the table before you settled your chin in your hand. “All I’ve seen is more of the same - neighborhoods and highways and stores and -”

“You haven’t been to the beach yet.” He tilted his head to the side, shaking it slowly. “You haven’t seen the way the cypress and mangrove trees look when the light’s hittin’ ‘em just right.” He blinked, taking a deep breath. “You haven’t spent long enough with a handful of retired Delta Force assholes to know what a good time is.”

The words hung between you for long seconds, and even though him being so bold surprised you, it didn’t feel forced or unwarranted. Delta Force? Aren’t those guys supposed to be like … elite?

The truth was that you were enjoying Frankie’s company. You were enjoying how casual the meeting seemed, even though you’d discussed what you needed from him, and had fully planned on circling back around to finish that conversation. “I’ve seen the Gulf of Mexico, Frankie.” You shrugged. “And I’ve seen swamps in the sunlight.” But I need to see more of them if I’m going to solve this. “You’re right, though. I’ve never spent time around a group like that. Got any idea where I can find one?” Is that an invitation?

You tried to keep an even expression and were successful for the most part - your only tell a slight upward pull of one side of your mouth. Frankie’s eyes glittered in the muted fluorescent lighting, and when he leaned in closer, you did too, drawing in a breath and waiting. “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.” He bit down on his lower lip, his eyes dropping from yours and then slowly rising as he watched you. “I -”

“You two look like you could use another round.” Another man’s voice interrupted the moment, both of you turning to look at where a third man - another blonde, though he had much shorter hair than Benny, along with a full beard. Is this Will? “I’m Ironhead.” He reached out a hand to shake yours, his smile wide. “I own this place with my idiot brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” Will’s large hand closed around yours, the man’s grip solid. “You’ve got a nice bar. I’m glad it was suggested to me.”

“Benny tells me Tom brought it up to you?” Will’s gaze flicked between you and Frankie before it settled back on you. “And here you are, so maybe him suggesting it works better than we thought it would.” It was your turn to look at Frankie then, and in a split second, you decided to see whether or not Frankie would continue the banter between you if you put the ball back in his court.

“Tom did tell me to check this place out while we were looking at an apartment here, but it was Frankie that actually invited me tonight.” You met Will’s eyes then, staring up at him. “So it’s up to him if I stick around for a second drink, or if we finish talking about flight plans and I head back to my -”

“We’ll take another round, Will.” Frankie tapped the table, saying your name. “You want the same thing, or do you want to try something else?” He was smiling at you, the dimple in his cheek deep, and for the first time, the thought that you were in over your head crossed your mind. But we’re just having a couple drinks and some food. And he’s…

Frankie might have been flirting, but it didn’t feel like an act - and that almost made it more dangerous.

If he was like that with you, someone he barely knew, you were worried that as the two of you worked together - and spent more time together - the flirting would escalate, and you’d have to make a decision. “Surprise me.” Grinning, you held a hand out toward will. “No tequila, and no gin. I need to drive back to my hotel, and since all I’ve eaten are snacks, I shouldn’t … I have to be responsible.”

“Well I’m not sure if ‘Fish told you, but one of the things we offer here is a dedicated designated driver.” Will put a hand on his hip, still watching you. “We don’t make you take a breathalyzer or anything, but we’ve got a couple people we trust that are on call to make sure everyone gets home safe.” That was something that you’d never heard of before; some bars had contracts with local cab companies, but multiple safe drivers only a phone call away? It was unheard of. “So I’ll get you another drink without either of those things, but if you do end up needin’ a way home, you’ve got one.”

“Thank you.” You spoke quietly, still somewhat surprised at the offering - but you didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Will walked away from the table, heading back toward his brother. You watched him go and then finally turned your attention back to Frankie, mouth open to speak. “I wasn’t -” Oh.

He’d removed his hat, running the fingers of one hand through his curls, and you couldn’t look away. “Hmm?” Frankie scratched the side of his head and then shifted his shoulders. “What were you saying?”

It took you a second to collect your thoughts - and you were certain that he noticed. Fuck it. What does it matter? “I wasn’t prepared for everyone to be so attractive, Frankie.”

“Wait ‘til you meet Pope.” He wrinkled his nose. “You’re gonna love him.”

“Pope’s got a girlfriend.” Spinning your straw through the few remaining ice cubes in your glass, you wrinkled your nose. “And Will’s married, according to Tom.”

“Benny’s single, though.” Frankie settled back into the seat, his chin jutting out and toward the bar. “He’s a good guy.” He was flirting five seconds ago and now he’s trying to pawn me off on Benny? Or is he just … testing the water? “Youngest of all of us, and -”

“Frankie.” You closed your eyes, thinking. Do not fuck up your access to a helicopter. “Still off the record, alright? This is just for my own personal … curiosity.” He looked surprised but nodded, waiting. “What’s your story? I don’t see a ring, but that doesn’t always mean …”

“I was engaged for about a year to a woman named Becca.” He swallowed, glancing up. “She was with me for most of the time I was enlisted and a little while after. We had … I have a daughter. Her name’s Carmen, and she’s three and a half.” You hadn’t expected that - or the level of honesty he was giving you, but you wouldn’t ever turn it down. “We split for good when Carmen was about a year old.”

“I’m sorry.” It was the first thing that came to mind, but to your surprise, Frankie laughed at you, tilting his head back as he continued to chuckle. “What?”

“I’m not. It’s better this way. They live pretty close and I see my daughter whenever I want, but me an’ Becca … it wasn’t right, especially after I was out for good.” He wanted to say more but the waitress - a new one - approached with your drinks then. The woman leaned over and set a beer down in front of Frankie, her low-cut top hiding very little. Subtle.

When you looked at him, though, he was focused on you, the look in his eyes thoughtful. “And a guava mule for you.” She straightened up, setting the copper mug down near the edge of the table and then reaching into her apron to drop off a few napkins next to it without pulling her attention away from the man. “Benny also told me to tell you that Pope’s running late, so you’ve got more time before he gets here.” Frankie thanked her, the woman’s name leaving his lips in a soft murmur - which seemed to be more than enough to make her happy. Her smile reappeared as she stepped away from the table, color rising in her cheeks at the same time.

“She likes you.” Reaching for the mug and curling your fingers around the cool metal, you raised it to take a sniff. Smells delicious. “And she’s not exactly hiding it. I should let her know this is a business meeting.” Even though it doesn’t feel like it.

“She isn’t.” He picked up his beer, too, sighing. “She never has. But you don’t need to tell her a damn thing. I’d never date someone that worked here because I’m here so much and it would be weird.”

“So you never mix business with pleasure.” Sipping your drink, you nodded. “Got it.” This is actually really good. I could drink like five of these. I wonder if he’ll respond to that.

“I didn’t say that.” Frankie ran his tongue along his lower lip, eyes still on you. “I just said I wouldn’t date her because she works here, and I’m not trying to fuck over Will and Benny if something didn’t go right. Also because I’m not interested in her.” Frankie swallowed, glancing down and then back up. “Hasn’t been an easy couple years for me, so I haven’t really … shit. You don’t need to know any of this, we’re supposed to be talking about flying, and I’m running my damn mouth about my shit life choices.”

“It’s ok.” You sipped again, savoring the taste of the fruit. “I need a pilot, Frankie. I’m not going to look somewhere else just because you got a little personal while we had a couple drinks.” It was blunt but it was the truth; as long as he could clear flight plans to your liking, you wanted him to show you Tampa from the sky. “And just so you know, I meant you, too, when I said everyone was attractive.”

Saying it was a risk, but the time you’d spent with him had put you at ease, and telling him felt right. Especially if he’s… since he’s testing the waters, maybe I should, too. “That so?” He leaned in, a small smile lifting his lips. “I’m interested in hearing more about that.” Oh, I’m sure you are. “What do you -”

“Who’s this, Catfish?” Frankie’s attention leapt from you to the back bar area, and you watched the expression on his face briefly change to one of disappointment before he was grinning again. Frankie picked up his beer and took a long drink, shaking his head as he set the bottle down. “I thought this was a guys night, and you’ve got a date?”

“Not a date, Santiago.” He gestured to you with one hand, continuing. “I talked to her for the first time a few hours ago on the phone, and asked her to come here to talk about a job.” You were slightly confused - he was telling the other man the exact same thing he’d told you not to tell the waitress. I must have been wrong. I - “A date would be me asking her to hang out again sometime … or to see if she wanted to stay for a little while longer tonight with us.”

“I see.” There was movement put of the corner of your eye, and moments later, a second man slid into the booth next to Frankie - and you got your first glimpse of Santiago. “I’m Santiago Garcia, but these assholes call me Pope.” He stuck his hand out and you took it, the man’s grip not quite as firm as Frankie’s had been. But he wasn’t lying, Pope is … wow.

You let yourself stare, taking the man’s features in - salt and pepper hair, a well-kept beard, eyes that were darker than Frankie’s and sharp cheekbones that framed his nose. He’s beautiful. But after only a few seconds, your eyes drifted back to Frankie’s face, and you were surprised to see that he looked intrigued with your assessment of his friend, fingers wrapped loosely around the beer bottle. “Nice to meet you, Santiago.”

“Call me Pope or Santi, please.” He rolled his eyes, tapping a fingertip on the table. “Santiago is what my mother or Yovanna call me when they’re pissed off.” You giggled at that, agreeing, and then you finally introduced yourself, giving him your name and telling him what you were doing in Florida.

“And Tom recommended Frankie, and Frankie asked to meet me here, and…” Gesturing to the room around you, you shrugged. “Here I am.” But Pope’s here now, and so… it’s time for me to go. You finished most of your drink and then pushed the cup off to the side, nodding. “But this is - like you just said - supposed to be about you guys, so I’m going to head out. You have my number, Frankie, so when you’ve got some ideas for flights and plans, just -”

“Leaving so soon?” Pope leaned back next to Frankie, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why? I just got here, and Will and Benny are going to get off work in a little while. It’s early.”

“And I was serious before about seeing if you wanted to stay.” Frankie took a deep breath, eyes locked with yours. “No more talk about helicopters, just …” He smiled - a soft one - and spoke again. “Spending some time with a handful of retired Delta Force assholes.”

It was a direct invitation - Frankie wanted you to stay and spend more time with him. No, with them. You corrected yourself immediately, not wanting to read too much into the situation. “I don’t want to intrude.” Closing your eyes, you sighed. “You don’t know me, so -”

“You’re not intruding.” Pope stood then, shoving Frankie’s shoulder. “And if this one’s inviting you to stay, none of us are going to oppose it.” You didn’t know what that meant, but the comment made you wonder just how influential Frankie was within their group. “I’m going to go and get a beer, since the service in this place has apparently gone to shit - and I hope you’re still sitting here when I get back.”

He winked as he stood, smoothly spinning away from the table and leaving you and Frankie alone again. “You can say no.” He shifted in his seat, leaning in and putting both hands flat on the tabletop. “Tell me goodnight right now, and that’s fine - I’ll still look into what you want from me flight-wise. But -” One hand slid forward, almost like he wanted to take yours, though he stopped before he made contact. “I’d like it if you stayed.”

It wasn’t a line or a plea; it was just Frankie being honest and telling you exactly what he was thinking. He wants me to stay. He wants me to hang out with his friends. “I’ll stay.” You moved your hand then, fingertips making contact with Frankie’s. You watched his intake of breath, along with a slight widening of his eyes and bit back a smile at the impact you were having on him. I like this. “But only if I’m allowed to ask how all of you got your nicknames.”

His laugh was loud in your ears as he flipped his hand over, fingers curling to squeeze yours against the center of his palm. “Oh, you’re definitely allowed.” He squeezed again, nodding. “I think you’ll like the answers, too.”

Frankie excused himself to use the bathroom a few seconds later, leaving you alone at the table. You used the opportunity to check and see if there were messages from Alec - there weren’t - or any update from Tom - there wasn’t. That meant that you had nothing to do that night, and so staying out wouldn’t be a problem. But I can only have one more drink because i need to be able to drive back.

“So you met Redfly.” Pope dropped back onto the bench across from you, sliding in and lifting a beer bottle to his lips. “He manage to sell you on a place?”

“Sort of.” You spun the empty cup between your hands, shrugging. “I’m only going to be here for a few months, so I’m looking to rent. But yeah. I found a place I want to stay. He was … I’m glad that I found something quick.”

“We were all surprised that Tom went into realty.” Will was back, too - taking a seat next to Pope, who scooted over further. Where’s Frankie supposed to sit? “Man’s great with people like us, but he’s not … the best with the general population.” Will sipped his drink - what looked like a whiskey on the rocks - and slowly shook his head. “I know we all had to get real jobs when we got home, but he … he doesn’t need it now, and…”

You caught the look that Pope gave him - a quick, sharp one, but then the other man spoke up again, changing the subject. Interesting. I wonder what he… hmm. “So you’re writing a book? Just about Tampa, or -”

You launched into your story without pause, explaining what you were doing and what you were looking for, but halfway through, you heard a sigh from next to you and glanced over, seeing Frankie’s denim clad hip at eye level. “You’re in my seat pendejo. I was -”

“There’s an open seat right there.” Will held a hand out, indicating the space next to you. “Plenty of space.” In that moment, you realized that you liked Frankie’s friends - you liked that they were direct and had a sense of humor and that they weren’t worried about scaring you off by encouraging their friend.

“Or you could pull up a chair.” Pope grinned, taking a long pull from his bottle. “Make it real awkward.” You snorted at that, catching Pope’s attention, but instead of replying - or going to get a chair - Frankie sighed and sat next to you, sliding in from the edge of the bench and toward where you were.

“Where the fuck is Benny going to sit? Frankie grumbled, repositioning his shoulders against the upholstered seat back. “He’s sure as shit not going to squeeze in next to me, and -”

“Benny’s gonna sit wherever the fuck he wants to.” Another drink was placed in front of you - along with a second that was set down at the end of the table. “Because it’s his bar.”

That got another laugh out of you, all four of you turning your attention to the blonde as he pulled a chair over and turned it around, dropping onto it and then leaning forward to prop his elbows up on the table edge.

“Our bar, you mean.” Will spoke up, eyeing his brother over the rim of a glass. “And you’re not making a very good impression on someone that might decide to include it in a -”

“Oh, he’s fine.” You winked at Benny, the younger man mouthing the words ‘thank you’ at you and tilting the mouth of his beer bottle in your direction. “Thanks for the drink, Benny. Did you add it to my tab?”

“Nah, it’s on us tonight.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.” You opened your mouth to protest, but then Frankie leaned over dropping his voice to speak to you in a whisper that you were certain everyone was meant to hear.

“Don’t argue. Not worth it. And even if you don’t like it, please drink it, otherwise we’ll never hear the end of it.” You snorted at his words, turning your head to look at him - and got your first look at Frankie up close.

There was a depth to his eyes that was more noticeable from only inches away. They were deep brown, sure, but you caught flecks of gold in them, too, brightened by the overhead lighting. Because he took his hat off. He gave you a half smile as your gaze rose and then dropped, locking with his a second time - and that’s when you caught the dilation of his pupils. You grinned, giving him a single nod and then looking back at your drink. This is great. He’s … wow.

“What’s this, Benny? What did you make me?” Changing the subject was your only option - otherwise, you would have stared at Frankie all night. You’d thought he was attractive before, but being so close to him and getting hit with the visual of his tousled curls while he was staring at you was almost too much.

“Same thing you had when you first got here, but I put it into a different glass because I had to carry it across the room.” He licked his lips, shrugging. “Figured you wouldn’t mind.” You didn’t and told him as much, Benny giving you a relieved nod in return. “So, tell us more about your books.”

You did just that, spending the next fifteen minutes repeating the story about what you were doing in Florida and what you needed.

You even pulled your phone out to show them your website and give them a chance to scroll through it. They all had questions for you, except for Frankie, who’d already gotten the detailed introduction. He sat silently next to you, fingers curled loosely around his beer bottle and that thumb dragging back and forth over the label.

“So I’ll be here researching and drafting for a few months, and then I’ll head back out to my aunt’s in Nevada to finish. While I’m out there, I’ll start posting to the social media pages as a lead in.” Moving your finger in a slow circle midair, you rolled your eyes. “It’s a pattern, but it works, and it builds hype, so…”

“Whatever works, right?” Frankie nudged you with his elbow and then took a long drink. “You mentioned flying and going to the beach, but what else do you need? Maybe we can make some suggestions?” It seemed too easy - the man literally asking you to detail the other things you were looking for in the Tampa area - but you weren’t going to question it.

“Well, bars and restaurants. Parks and shopping. Outdoor activities that would be good for different numbers of people.” Taking a drink, you looked at the other men one by one. I have to mention it. Now or never. “Kayaking or canoeing, maybe camping. Hiking or finding trails would be great, but I was looking online roday and I saw something about an increase in animal attacks this summer, so maybe that’s not …” Lips pressed together, you looked down. “I have no desire to get killed and eaten by an alligator, so maybe I should stick to the safe stuff.”

“It is safe.” Will sighed, gesturing with the hand that held his drink. “As long as you’re not wading through the swamp in the middle of the night or trying to find your way alone, you’ll be fine.” Will I, though?

“Well unluckily for me, I am solo here, so …” You laughed then, the sound quiet. “I’ll just go places during the day. It’s what I did in Louisiana, and that worked out alright.”

“Benny, didn’t you know that guy … what was his name? Drew?” Frankie sipped his beer, cocking his head to the side. “Manny? I can’t remember. But he’s got that fan boat, right? Does tours?”

“Shit, yeah. I forgot about that.” The younger man reached out, settling his hand on your forearm. “I’ll get ahold of him and find out what he’s got open. He does tours and it’s perfectly safe. He hasn’t lost anyone. Yet.” Benny raised both brows but when you only stared at him, he lowered his head, mumbling. “I thought it was funny.”

“Hilarious.” Pope reached for one of your leftover chips, popping it into his mouth. “So you never said where you were looking for places to stay.” He frowned. “Downtown? Toward Orlando?”

“No.” Biting your lip, you shook your head. “Tampa Heights, actually. I wanted to be pretty close to everything, and it was the best apartment I saw today. Hopefully I hear back.”

“You’ll be pretty close to me, then.” Frankie looked over at you, his eyes wide in surprise. “I live in South Seminole.” Unless you were mistaken, the surprise was coupled with excitement, Frankie’s voice lifting in an almost hopeful note.

“Tom mentioned you lived close, but not where.” Sucking an ice cube into your mouth, you tucked it beneath yout tongue to melt. “We’ll see what happens.”

The seeds were planted - they knew more about you and seemed to have bought your cover story. And I have someone else asking about a swamp tour for me, so there’s another thing checked off my list. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have four allies in Tampa, either - even if it only meant that you could text or call them to ask questions every now and then.

Part of you wanted to ask why Tom wasn’t there that night, but you also didn’t want to seem too interested in his whereabouts. So you let it go and instead became engrossed in a story that Pope was telling about Yovanna, which turned into Will bringing up his wife. You didn’t speak much, but you interjected occasionally, the conversation flowing between the five of you for a while before there was a lull.

And it was during that lull that you realized that you and Frankie had closed the distance between you - your thighs pressed together on the bench seat, hands resting next to each other on the table. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything about it, instead turning his head to look at you. “Didn’t you say you had a question for us?” The tip of his tongue dragged over his lower lip while he waited, Pope speaking up to encourage you to ask whatever it was.

“Ideally I’d have another drink right now, but since I’m driving, I can’t.” You swallowed the last of your watered-down beverage and then nodded. “Alright. So… I’m curious about the nicknames. It’s obviously a military thing, but … everyone’s got one aside from Benny, and I just -” I need to know.

“Benny didn’t want one.” Will settled his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We tried to come up with one and nothing stuck, so he finally told us to stop.” He grinned. “And they call me Ironhead because I’m stubborn as shit. Once I’m committed to something, that’s it.”

“Stubborn? Frustrating’s more like it.” Benny interrupted, pointing at Santiago. “And Pope over here … well, he’s always got an audience - mostly women - but uh, he doesn’t ever have to try too hard to convince anyone to do anything.”

“Oh really?” You laughed. “Damn, Santi. I’ll keep that in mind” The man laughed, running his fingers through his curly hair. “Ok so… Three down, two to go.”

“Redfly,” Frankie started, taking and holding a breath. “Redfly was what his grandfather went by in World War 2, and he said he wanted to use the same thing to honor him, so … that’s what we call him.”

You took a few seconds to process what they’d told you, eyeing each man in turn. They’re all literal. So then, does that mean … “Are you not who you say you are, Frankie?” Turning your upper body, you rested one elbow on the table and stared at him. “Is a camera crew going to show up because you’re pretending to be someone else online and -”

“No.” He closed his eyes, inhaling. “I can barely keep up with my own shit, there’s no way I could pretend to be someone else. They call me Catfish because -”

“Because none of us have ever met anyone that enjoys eating as much as Francisco here does.” Pope cut in, pointing at Frankie with one long finger. “And he’s not picky about a goddamn thing, either.”

“And at the time,” Will caught your attention by saying your name then, waiting until you met his eyes to say anything else. “He was the only one of us that had any facial hair, and it was just this wiry, sad looking mustache and -” He swore, frowning. “Did you just fucking kick me, ‘Fish? I can’t believe you.”

“Sure did.” Frankie was scowling, the man’s full lips set in a pout that you very much wanted to kiss off of his face. Ok, well that escalated. “My mustache isn’t sad, you asshole, so -”

“Nah, you’re right. But the beard is when you let it get long.” Pope’s grin spread wide, and you couldn’t help laughing along with the guys, eyes squeezed shut and one hand rising to cover them. Oh, tonight was fun. I needed this. “I’m going to go and get another round, anyone want anything?” He looked between you as he stood, pausing. “Anyone?”

Will and Benny held up their fingers in agreement, and when Pope’s gaze lingered on you, you regretfully shook your head.

“I wish I could, but I need to drive home, and since I don’t know the area too well, I don’t want to risk it.” You knew that it meant you had no reason to stay longer - that if you weren’t drinking, it was time to go back to the hotel. “Thank you though. I -”

“If you want to have another, I can take you home.” Frankie’s voice was low, the man leaning in subtly closer. “You’ll have to come back and get your car tomorrow, but I have no problem dropping you off.” I want to say yes, Frankie. But …

“My hotel’s way past your house, Frankie. I appreciate the offer, but -”

“You don’t need to drink to stay.” Benny leaned in, his eyes on your face. “I can go and grab you a Coke or more water, or -”

“Thank you, Benny.” You held up one hand. “But I’ll let you guys get to it. I’m sure you don’t want me hanging around all night.”

“I think one of us does.” Pope looked between you and Frankie as he spoke, not even trying to hide his smirk. “Isn’t that right, ‘Fish?”

“Fuck off.” Frankie threw a wadded up straw wrapper at the man. “If she wants to leave, she wants to leave.” Frankie nodded twice, eyeing you. “At least let me walk you out to your car?”

“That I will agree to.” Reaching for your bag, you dug around for your wallet. “What do I owe you guys? Should I go to the bar to -”

“I told you, it’s on us.” Benny gave you an exaggerated wink. “Just be nice when you mention this place.” Assuring him you would - and then thanking him again, you got to your feet. “Come back soon - we’ll be here.”

Frankie stood too, gesturing to the door and telling his friends that he’d be right back. As you headed through the bar, you noticed the waitress glaring at you when the two of you passed. “She really doesn’t like me.” You mumbled the words, but they only made Frankie move closer, the man standing off to the side and holding the door open for you to pass. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” It was quiet in the parking lot, the distant sound of cars passing on the main road much quieter than the symphony of late summer bugs. He was silent as he followed you to your car, but when you got there, he spoke again. “You alright to drive?”

Leaning against the door, you crossed your arms, nodding. “Yeah. And if I wasn’t, I’d tell you. I don’t like the idea of drunk driving, so I’d never do it.” He’d left his hat on the table inside, and you watched as the breeze lifted strands of his hair, Frankie worrying his lower lip with his teeth. I wonder how soft those curls are. “It was nice to meet you, Frankie. Thank you for suggesting this. I’m excited to -”

“You got along well with everyone.” Frankie’s voice was quiet, eyes locked on your face. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Why? Am I that much of an -”

“No, people are usually a little intimidated by all of us at once, and you just…” He waved a hand back and forth before crossing his arms. “It was nothing. And I don’t just mean Benny hitting on you.”

“I have a feeling that he does that with pretty much everyone that he meets, Frankie. I’m not going to read too much into it.” He glanced up, his smile growing as he gave you a peek at the taut muscle of his neck, the man’s throat on full display.

“I’ll give you that one.” The man sighed, looking back at you. “But you did seem to like us.”

“I do.” Taking a half step closer to him, you let your arms drop, both of them dangling by your sides. “So if you asked me to have a drink with you again, I’d say yes.” You meant the group, but you also meant just Frankie, because the truth was that a large part of you had been disappointed that your time with him was cut short. But it doesn’t matter right now, “You should get back to your friends. I’m sure they’re waiting.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.” You answered before you could think about your response, making direct eye contact with Frankie as you spoke. “No, it’s not.” He nodded in reply, taking a deep breath, and you watched the man’s exposed upper chest rise and fall above the collar of his shirt.

“What do you want, then?” His voice was low, Frankie’s head tilted to tone side as he furrowed his brow.

There was no question about it - the look in his eyes told you that he was just as interested as you. So why not go for it? This is close to the bottom of the list of bad ideas I’ve ever had. “I want …” He stayed in place, eyeing you as you inched closer. Should I just .. is it stupid? Am I … “I don’t need you to drive me back to the hotel, Francisco, but I want you to.”

His eyes darkened - you saw them change, even in the low overhead lighting of the parking lot, but Frankie also nodded, the smile turning into a smirk. “My place is closer.”

“Alright.” It was reckless - and you knew it - but you also knew more than a few things about Frankie and his friends, and if something happened, there were at least a dozen witnesses that had seen you with the man and then that you’d left with him. “Do you need to go back in and tell th-”

“They’ll figure it out.” He reached out then, holding a hand palm up and waiting for you to take it. “C’mon, my truck’s over here.”

His fingers closed around yours and tightened, Frankie leading you away from your car and toward where he’d parked. It was a newer model pickup, dark in color - and to your surprise, he let go of your hand and reached for the door handle, pulling it open for you. “Such a gentleman, Frankie.” Turning your head to look at him, you wrinkled your nose. “Thank you.”

“Always.” As you climbed in, you watched him reach up, one hand moving to grab for the brim of his hat.. Oh, yeah … that’s not … “Shit.” He groaned, fingers curling into a loose fist. “I can’t believe I forgot it.”

“Go back in.” Pointing, you shook your head. “It’ll take two seconds.” He thought about it - you saw his expression change, but then Frankie hummed out a non-committal sound and reached for the edge of the door.

“One of ‘em will grab it for me.” Leaning closer, he ducked down so that you were eye level. “I’d just be taking it off again in a couple minutes anyway.”

As he shut the door, you smiled at him, watching Frankie circle around the front of the truck toward the driver’s side. He walked with confidence, arms swinging gently, and you bit your lip at the sight. This day definitely took a turn.

Frankie climbed in next to you, starting the ignition before he buckled his seatbelt. But once he’d settled a hand on the steering wheel and reached for the gear shift with the other, he turned his head to look at you - and then said your name. “If you change your mind, let me know. We’re about ten minutes away from my place, but it’s easy enough to stay on 275 to -”

“I’m not going to change my mind.” You were certain of that - the racing of your heart wasn’t due to apprehension or regret, and you weren’t second guessing your decision at all. Instead, you were excited, the thought of starting your time in Tampa with a night in Frankie’s bed more than appealing. “Are you?”

“Nope.” Putting the car into drive, he eased toward the road, his right hand still resting on the shifter knob. “Nah, I made up my mind about you right around the time you admitted that you just wanted to use me for my piloting skills.”

“We hadn’t even talked then. How did you - “ Cutting yourself off, you shook your head and looked out the window. “You know what? I’m not going to question it.” He snorted then, but didn’t say anything. “Why wasn’t Tom there tonight? He was the only one missing. I saw the picture of all of you hanging behind the bar.”

“Tom doesn’t come out as much as he used to.” You were on the highway, Frankie pressing on the gas as he merged. “He and Molly - his wife - went through a really rough patch a while back, and when they decided to work on it, he uh, he decided that he was going to stay at home with his family more.” Frankie shrugged, glancing over. “We’re all happy for him. It didn’t look too good for a while.”

“He seems …” You shrugged, running your hand along the top of your thigh. “I only met him in a professional setting, but he seems different than all of you. Less … personable? I don’t know.” You didn’t want to be rude, but it was the truth.

“You’re not wrong.” Frankie glanced over at you, wetting his lips. “Tom’s kind of a dick. There’s no other way to put it, but he’s saved all our asses more than once, and we’ve spent so much time with him that we’re used to it. Not an excuse, but …” Frankie eyed the road and then looked back at you. “But I’m still glad you reached out to him.”

“I saw one of his ads on TV.” You laughed, rubbing at your forehead with your fingertips as he took the exit. “And I wasn’t going to reach out, but then I just … I felt like maybe it was a sign.”

“You believe in all that? The universe lookin’ out for you and shit?” Well when you put it that way…

“Not usually, no. But I needed a place to stay, I’d just gotten here, and he was right there. He was able to meet me really fast, we found a place I liked, and then he … he knew you, Frankie. And you’re a pilot, which is something else I need, and then you knew Benny and his friend with the fan boat, and …” Trailing off as he turned into a neighborhood, you looked down, shaking your head. “Maybe it’s too good to be true.”

“I can tell you with a hundred percent honesty that no woman’s ever told me that before.” He pulled into the driveway of a small single story house, putting the truck into park. “I’m just a guy. They’re all just … who they are. And think about it this way - there aren’t many helo tours around here, so you probably would have ended up calling me anyway. You seeing that ad just sped up the process.”

He was right - logically, you would have made a list of the people offering the services you needed and worked your way through it. And once I saw a picture of him, it would have been over. “He gave me the flyer - the ‘Fly With ‘Fish’ one?” Turning your head to look at him, you grinned. “That’s a stellar marketing tactic, you know. Putting your face on the -”

“I didn’t want to, believe it or not.” Turning the car off, Frankie unbuckled and angled his body toward yours, bending an arm to rest his elbow against the steering wheel. “Pope suggested it. Said that it might help increase business. I’m pretty sure he was joking, but … well. I’m booked about a month in advance most times, and even further out on the holidays.”

“Have you seen yourself?” Both brows shot up, your mouth falling open in surprise. “Frankie, I’m sure there are women that book tours specifically to try and get you into bed.”

“That what you did?” He winked and then bit his lip, thumb running idly over the curve of the wheel. “Pretend to need a -”

“No, I actually need a tour, thank you very much.” Reaching over, you pushed on his shoulder, laughing. “This is just … an added bonus.” More like a jackpot, actually.

“Haven’t taken you up in the air yet.” He sighed. “So how do you know what the real bonus is?”

“I don’t. You’re right.” Pointing at the house, you shook your head. “And forget the air, you haven’t even taken me inside of your house yet. I do like a challenge, but the front seat of this truck is -”

“Come on.” He reached over, squeezing your leg. At the contact, you sucked in a breath, freezing in place. He’s so warm. His hand is … “Let’s go in and get comfortable.”

—

Tag list reblog coming soon!

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x female reader #liminality #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #triple frontier fic #liminality masterlist #frankie morales masterlist #pedro pascal masterlist #pedro pascal character masterlist #francisco morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #benny miller #will miller #santiago pope garcia

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somethingtofightfor-shares · 1 year ago

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Tag list reblog!

Add yourself to my tag list here!

All Pedro:

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Tags didn’t work: @scorpiowidow @rominaszh @t0fudaddy @hocuschlocus @chronic-nosebleed @iamskyereads @stardustsophia @dessinemoiunehistoire @the-501st-tano-saurus-rex @Quica-quica-quica @startrekkingaroundasgard @blackirisesinthesunlight @Javicstories @lumenseal @maladaptivemando @vonschweetz @hauntedmama

Liminality: Part 1

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count: 6,739

Rating: M - language, mature content, (talk of death and supernatural things, deception, Tom being his usually smarmy self)

Summary: After your arrival in Florida, you've got some things to take care of. First, you need to find a place to live ... then comes the rest.

Author’s note:

I'm so excited to start posting this story. I'm so excited to share more of these two with You. I have no idea how long it'll end up being, but I do have the whole thing outlined, it's just a matter of writing it.

This one is dedicated to @the-blind-assassin-12 - who dropped the idea in my inbox (not sharing that yet because it gives away something important)... and I haven't stopped thinking about it since.

This *is* going to be a spooky story overall - but chapters will be marked clearly with necessary warnings.

This is a set up chapter... but it's necessary. I promise.

Masterlist (for the journal entries and all of the other 'extras')

The phone rang three times before it went to voicemail.

The recording was an artificially cheerful man’s voice telling you that he was sorry he’d missed you, but if you left a short message with your name, a good contact number, and the reason for your call, he’d get back to you as soon as possible. Standard operating procedure. Alright.

Taking a deep breath, you stared toward the window. Maybe he’s showing a house. “Hi, Tom. I’m just calling because I saw one of your commercials last night, and I’m looking for a place to rent.” You paused and stood, pacing as you spoke. “I just need a one bedroom or an efficiency. I’ll be in the Tampa area for at least a couple months for work, so something month to month would be great.” You took another breath and then nodded, deciding that was enough for the voicemail. “If you could give me a call back, I’d appreciate it, even if it’s just to tell me you can’t help me out. Thanks.”

You ended the message with your name and phone number, and once you’d hung up, you tossed your phone back onto the unmade bed, crossing your arms.

Florida was the last place you wanted to be, but after a series of leads hadn’t panned out in a neighboring state, it seemed like your only option. And now I have a few weeks to look into things before … I have to worry.

Your eyes flicked over to the small duffel bag that contained all of your notes and research, along with your laptop. But instead of unzipping it, you reached for your shoulder bag and then your phone - dropping the device into it after turning the ringer on. “I’ll deal with it later.”

Speaking to the empty room, you slipped your feet into shoes and then headed for the door. The area you were staying in was typical for a suburb on the outskirts of Tampa, but you wanted to explore, even if that just meant driving around aimlessly for the rest of the morning.

A few minutes later and based on the results of a quick Reddit search, you were behind the wheel and heading toward somewhere called Carrolwood. As you drove, you thought about the failure in Louisiana, the phone tag you’d been playing with your cousin Alec, and the fact that even after years of searching, you still felt no closer to your goal.

“But at least I have the books.” Groaning as you stopped a a red light, you drummed your fingers against the wheel, shaking your head. “And the website.”

That made you roll your eyes - as it did often - but by the time you’d parked and walked into Foxtail Coffee Co., you were focused again. Even though you left your main research in the hotel, you always carried a notebook and pen with you… and you planned on making the most of the time in the coffee shop.

Once you had your drink - and a breakfast sandwich - you settled in at a table and put your headphones in, reaching into your bag for the notebook and a pen once you’d chosen a playlist. Make a plan. Make another list. Start small. Do what you always do.

Flipping past the previous few days of entries, you stared down at a blank page, chewing on your lower lip.

There wasn’t much you could do until you’d established a home base, and you had no intention of that being a Holiday Inn. You’d be able to take care of the small shopping list you’d jotted down, but there was no point in moving everything into your hotel room and then back out a few days later when you found a place. If I find one.

Leaving Louisiana wasn’t something you’d planned on, and if you were being honest, the sudden change had thrown you off more than any previous pivot in your search had. You’d settle in - and your stress level would drop - over the following few days, but until then, you just had to push through it. Nothing else I can do.

Deciding that you’d start with making a list of potential places you wanted to visit, you unlocked your phone and picked up the pen, tapping it on the page,

Before you could make a search, a call from an unfamiliar number popped up on the screen. It interrupted your song, and after a few seconds, you recognized it as Tom’s. That was fast.

“Hello?” There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then you heard him clear his throat before he spoke.

“Hi, this is Tom Davis. I’m returning a call you made about finding an apartment?” There was some shuffling, and then he continued. “If you give me some more information about yourself and what you’re looking for, I can make a list of properties to show you.”

“Hi. Yeah, that was me.” Taking a sip of your coffee, you watched as a young couple made an order, the man’s arm around a woman’s shoulders. “Thanks for calling back so fast, I figured it would take a while.”

“Nope. I had a client cancel this morning, so I’m free right now.” Lucky me. “Go ahead. Hit me. Tell me what you need, and I’ll see if I can make it happen for you.” Wrinkling your nose at the false excitement in his voice, you closed your eyes. You need a place to stay, and this is a good lead. Just deal with it.

“Like I said, I really only need something for one person. I’m in Tampa doing some research for a book and my website, and my focus is on local tourism. I need somewhere kind of close to a highway, and centrally located based on bigger areas of interest - parks, waterways, museums, things like that. Restaurants and bars are good too, but I’ll have to drive around and find those myself, so … that’s not as important.” You paused, thinking. “My budget’s flexible, and this is going to be really short term… no longer than six months on the long end, honestly, is what I’m thinking. I’ll need a parking space and would prefer air conditioning, but aside from that, it doesn’t matter if it’s an apartment or a loft.”

“Would you be open to renting a room?” He cleared his throat. “There’s a lot of older people around here, and a couple listings I have are for rooms in people’s houses with shared common space.”

“I’ve never done that before. And my hours aren’t exactly set, so it might not be a good idea.” He agreed, humming. “A guest house might work, though. Or an in-law suite on a property? I don’t know if people down here have those or -”

“You know what?” He laughed, the sound the most genuine thing that you’d heard from him. “People do. There’s no way in hell I’d ever want my mother in law livin’ that close to me, but it’s more common than you think.” You heard keys clicking, and a few seconds later, Tom spoke again. “I’ve got a couple listings that might work for you, if you want to set up a time to meet.”

“That fast?” Jaw dropping, you checked the time on your phone. It’s not even eleven yet. “When can you fit me in?”

“Where are you at right now?” He paused and then laughed again. “That sounded weird. Sorry. I work out of Riverbend, not that that will mean anything to you, but depending on how far away you are, I -”

“I’m in Carrolwood at the moment.” You interrupted him, pushing the notebook away. Could it be this easy? “I have no idea where that is in relation to you.”

“You’re only about fifteen minutes away.” He cleared his throat. “I can give you the address of a coffee shop close by and we can meet there and I can show you your options before you decide whether or not you wanna see any of them?”

It made sense. Rather than driving around aimlessly, he was making things easier on you - which you appreciated. “Sure, Tom. Just send me the address and I’ll head there now.”

—

Twenty minutes later, you were parked in the lot in front of a Dunkin’, slowly finishing the remainder of your coffee from earlier.

You were debating over ordering a second - and a donut - when an older model pickup pulled into the lot and turned into the space next to you. Moments later, the same man from the commercial rounded the back of the vehicle, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the end of the bed.

“Here we go.” You got out then, the man’s attention turning toward you and the relaxed expression turning into a wide, lopsided smile as he extended one hand and introduced himself. “Nice to meet you, Tom.”

“Yeah, you too.” His grin widened when you shook hands with him, and then he used his other one to gesture to he restaurant. “Want to go inside? I’ve got my laptop.”

You agreed and when the two of you were seated at a table - fresh drinks for both of you - he opened the device and turned the screen so that you could see it.

Over the next few minutes, he clicked through a short list of available options, and you did your best to pay attention to what he was saying. But I can’t focus. There was something off about him - the falsity of his cheeriness and the speed that he’d been able to accommodate the meeting were somewhat concerning. But maybe I’m just rattled by this whole thing because it’s unexpected. Maybe it’s just a me thing.

“Honestly, I’d probably go for one of these three,” he said, interrupting your thoughts as he pointed to the screen. “MacFarlane, South Tampa and Tampa Heights put you close to 275 and downtown. A couple of my buddies live nearby, and they haven’t complained, either.” He grinned again. “The apartment’s vacant, so we could go see it right now, and the other two have lockboxes with codes, so I don’t need to make an appointment or anything.” He paused and then frowned, holding up a hand. “I don’t want to sound forward, because I’m not trying to be.” Wiggling his fingers, your attention was drawn to the ring on one of them. “But it’ll be faster if we go in one car, and since I know my way around the city…”

“I’d rather drive myself, actually.” You took a drink and then set your cup down, shrugging. “Nothing against you, but if I’m going to be here for a while, I need to get used to traffic and start learning my way around.” He nodded once, the man’s eyes on your face. “Besides, if we drive separate, you don’t have to worry about dropping me off before you get back to whatever else you’ve got going on this afternoon.”

“Makes sense. Just thought I’d offer.” He drained his cup and then returned to the laptop, finally looking away. “I’ll send you the addresses so you have them, but if you want to follow me, that’ll be good, too.” That was fine with you, and once your phone pinged with the list, the two of you stood and headed back outside. “We’ll start with South Tampa first and then work our way back up. Sound good?”

“Yep.” Glancing up at the sky, you took a moment to appreciate the warmth of the sun, and then met Tom’s gaze again. “Sounds perfect.” Maybe in a couple hours, I’ll know where I’m staying for the next few months.

—

The South Tampa apartment was nice, but it didn’t feel right to you - and you told him as much.

“I’m not surprised. This was my least favorite of the three.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “I personally don’t like that it’s ground level. And a lot of my clients - single women, parents with small kids - don’t either.”

“I just don’t like the size of it.” You pointed down the hallway. “The kitchen’s a closet. And I know I can’t really expect a lot from what I’m looking to rent, but…” That took him by surprise, but then he nodded again, pushing upright.

“Fair enough. Come on. We’ll go to MacFarlane next.” The man locked the door behind you, and when you were in the parking lot again, he spoke up. “You said you were looking for bars and restaurants for work, right?” Confirming, you waited to see what he’d say next. “Couple of my old military buddies own a bar down here called Ironhead’s. You should check it out, maybe you’ll like it.”

“Thank you, Tom.” You pulled your phone out, making a note for later. “Are they the ones that live here?”

“One of ‘em, yeah. Benny lives closer to downtown, but Will and his wife have a place about ten minutes south of here.” He gestured to his truck, unlocking the door. “See you at the next place?”

The drive was short, but it still gave you time to think, the caffeine from both coffees surging through you.

If the apartment that you’d just seen was the worst of the three options, you were in good shape. And if he told me to go see his friends’ bar, that means I have an in with someone that lives in the area. And they might be able to tell me more.

That was all you had time for, your GPS alerting you to the fact that you’d arrived, pulling up just behind Tom in the driveway.

“This one’s new on the market and it’s a studio, but it’s on someone’s property. They travel a lot for work, so you probably wouldn’t see or hear ‘em much.” He typed in the code and then stepped to the side, letting you head in first. “The layout’s not complicated, and I really like all the windows.”

You did, too - sunlight streaming in, soft carpet in the main living space, the bed tucked behind a low wall to give you a semblance of privacy. Not that anyone would visit. “The kitchen’s nice.” You stepped through it and into the bathroom, flipping the switch. “And the shower is, too.” He moved to stand behind you, though he kept some distance.

“This one includes Internet, and it says the TV’s one of the smart models, so you can watch whatever with your own accounts.” That would be helpful, and you told him so, turning back to face the man. “There’s a small covered porch around back, just so if you sit outside and the owners are home, you aren’t in view of the house.”

That got your attention - you liked sitting outside and going over notes, liked looking up at the moon and stars while you worked. And if no one’s staring, that’s even better. “Well this is at the top of my list.” You smiled, taking a seat on the couch and looking around. “What’s the catch?”

“Football traffic.” He sighed. “Noise from the airport.” Oh. Shit. “Season’s about to start soon, so the highways might get a little backed up on game days. And the planes … well that’s self explanatory.”

“Damn.” Frowning, you closed your eyes. “Alright. Well, I’ll keep that in mind.”

You left soon after, you and the man pausing in the driveway while he locked the door, and then Tom turned to you. “The third place is also a guest house, but it’s a little bigger than this one.” He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes on you. “It’s also a little more expensive, but that’s because of the neighborhood.”

“What about it?” Price wasn’t something you were worried about, because you’d purposely given him a lower number than you could afford. “Tom?”

“It’s one of the oldest neighborhoods in Tampa, so it’s got a lot of … shit in it.” He winced. “Sorry. Sometimes I just …” You waved him off and he continued. “More bars. Restaurants. A ton of parks. The river’s right there, but the place you’re looking at is further north than a lot of it.” He scrolled through his phone and then nodded. “You’re closer to Seminole than I thought, which is real close to another of my buddies - Frankie.”

“Another military friend?” He nodded in agreement. “Did you help them all find houses, too?”

“No. Well, Benny, yes. But Will and his wife found their place on their own. Frankie bought kind of on a whim, and went straight through the seller. Pope … is splitting his time between here and where his girl lives, so he’s still living in his parents’ place.” Tom ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll be honest. I’ve only been doing this for a couple years, and I kind of suck at it. I just needed something to keep myself busy after I retired, so I’m still learning.”

You appreciated the honesty, and for the first time, you felt yourself truly warming up to the man. Took long enough. “Well then, Tom, let’s go see this last place. Sounds like it’s got a lot going for it.”

—

You wanted the Tampa Heights rental, and it took everything in you to remain calm about it.

It was almost a studio, but he hadn’t been lying when he said it was larger.

“They converted a poolhouse, I think.” The two of you were in the living room, Tom leaning against a wall while you looked around. “When they filled in the pool, there was no need for it to exist.”

“So they redid this. Smart.” You peeked into the kitchen area, smiling at the sight of the larger refrigerator. “I like that the bedroom’s got a door. This room is bright, and that would make it kind of hard to sleep.” He agreed with you, the man staying put as you stepped into the bedroom, eyeing the setup.

It wasn’t ornately furnished, but the bed looked comfortable. You had a small closet and dresser, and there was a second TV mounted to the wall. I want this place. “Internet’s included here, too.” He called to you from the other room, the man’s voice carrying. “The back of this place has some trees between it and the road, but it shouldn’t be too loud because it’s a neighborhood street. And then you’ve got the private entrance and driveway, and a couple more trees that keep the house mostly hidden.”

“It feels comfortable.” You reentered the room where Tom was, one hand on your hip. “I could see myself staying here.” Wetting your lips, you looked around again. “I think this is it, Tom.”

“Yeah?” His eyes widened. “You sure?”

“I don’t want to stay in the hotel for any longer than necessary, and this place meets my requirements, so yeah. As long as the owners are alright with a short term renter, I think … I’d like to apply for it.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you talked over the process - submitting a background check with your application, getting in touch with the owners, the timeline you hoped to move in during … and then Tom cleared his throat, saying your name. “It’s all contingent on everything coming back good, but a lot of owners like seeing money upfront. So, say you wanted to approach them with three months guaranteed and then month to month afterward for a certain period of time, paying upfront for the first -”

“I can pay upfront.” You held out both hands, raising and lowering your shoulders. “My last book did pretty well, and the website’s thriving, so… Three months plus a deposit is doable, Tom.” He looked surprised at that but made a note of it, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips as he wrote.

“Another thing is that Fis… Frankie’s always telling me that when he jumps on the highway to go to and from work, it’s not terrible, and he’s going toward downtown.”

“Yeah? He works downtown?” It was an innocent question, but Tom’s answer floored you.

“No. He’s a pilot, and he works out of an airport south of the city, on Davis Islands?” A pilot? Did I hit the lottery coming here?

“He must not be home much, then.” You took a seat on the couch, looking around again. “Flying out of -”

“He can fly just about anything, but no. He does helo tours so he’s home every day.” Your jaw dropped, head snapping toward the man. “What? Why that look?”

“Tom, one of the notes in my outline for Tampa is to find a company that does tours so I can get a bird’s eye view of different parts of the city.” You laughed. “Unbelievable, right? But I like to include different things when I write about places, and I figured that since there’s so much to see here, that would be perfect.” And I need to see these waterways, so…

“It would.” He eyed you for a few seconds and then nodded slowly. “I have one of his flyers in my truck. I’ll give it to you and then you can get in touch with him and see if he can help you. I don’t know if there’s a referral discount or anything like that, but…” Tom shrugged. “It’ll get you in the air and you don’t need to spend time lookin’ for a different company.”

Dumbfounded, all you could do was stare at him, both hands on your knees. An apartment and a pilot in the same day? What are the odds? “I… yeah. That would be… Thank you.”

He winked at you and then pushed off of the wall, pointing at the door. “If you’re sure about wanting this place, we don’t need to stick around. The sooner I get back to my office, the sooner I can send over the papers for you to fill out and we can get going. It’s Sunday, so we probably won’t hear anything back until Tuesday at the earliest. Then we’d have to wait for the results of your background check, so…”

“Sounds good.” You were excited - more excited than you’d been in weeks, and the urge to get back to the hotel room and start planning was almost overwhelming. “I honestly didn’t expect to find anything so fast, so… this is great.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He locked the door and then led you to the driveway, walking to the passenger side of his truck.”I’ll just need you to text me your email address, and we can get started.” You did that immediately, fingers flying over the keys while he opened the door and reached into his glovebox. “This has the email and the office number on there, but I’m gonna…” He grunted, leaning further into the truck. “I’m going to write his cell number down, too.”

Tom stood back up and faced you, holding out a single piece of paper. You took it, eyes dropping to read what it said - and when you saw the main image, you froze, inhaling sharply. Well there’s something else I wasn’t expecting.

It was a standard flyer - brightly colored and designed to grab a person’s attention.

But the most standout part of it was Frankie himself. Or whoever that is, anyway. Even on paper, the man was attractive, his dark hair and eyes striking. Fly with Fish? Wonder what that’s about. “Lots of options for flights,” you murmured, chewing on one corner of your lip. “He looks … focused.” Glancing back up at Tom, you saw that he was watching you intently, eyes narrowed. Weird, but alright. “Thank you.”

“Let me get a pen, and I’ll give you his personal number. Then you don’t have to go through the -”

“No. This is fine.” Waving the paper, you shook your head. “I appreciate it, but I don’t want to just call someone out of the blue and start asking them work questions on a personal line.” And having his number would be … tempting.

“Your call. Just thought I’d offer.” Tom slipped a hand into his pocket, watching you. “Check your email when you get back to the hotel. You’ll gave paperwork waiting. If you fill it out today, just shoot me a text and let me know and I’ll move it along.”

You agreed, folding up Frankie’s ad and sticking it in your bag. For later. “I will. And thank you, Tom. For helping me out. I’ll be sure to mention you on the site and in the book.”

He laughed at that, reaching out to shake your hand again. “Don’t thank me yet. We’ve still got to make sure you’re approved.” True. You were about to open your mouth again when his phone rang, the man reaching for it without hesitation. “This is Tom.” Holding up a hand and waving as you mouthed the words thank you, you backed up and headed for your car.

You had high hopes for the apartment - you knew your background check would come back without issue and you had the money to cover the down payment. So maybe only a few more days in the hotel. That would be… amazing.

And as you backed out of the driveway, the GPS guiding you back to where you were staying, you couldn’t help thinking about everything Tom had told you about his friends - especially Frankie. He’d specifically mentioned his and Will’s wives, and Pope’s girlfriend. But nothing for Benny and Frankie. That didn’t mean that the pilot was single, but it increased the chances immensely. Not that it matters, though.

You’d had your fair share of short term relationships, hooking up with men while you were staying in a city and searching, but they’d always been with strangers. Not someone that I might need to work with. Eyeing the traffic around you, you rolled your eyes. And he might not even be interested anyway.

Once back in the hotel, you checked your email to see if there was anything from Tom.

There wasn’t - and so you decided to start doing some actual research. You pulled out your laptop and got situated at the small workstation near the window, notes scattered around you as you scrolled.

It didn’t take long for you to get lost in the thing that had consumed your life for as long as you could remember - the search for the line of wolves that had attacked and turned your family upside down nearly 150 years prior.

It wasn’t that none of the wolves had ever been found. Your family had had success - they’d killed the one that turned your great-great-great grandmother almost immediately… but the damage had been done.

As the years passed, and your family learned more and more about the supernatural world that existed only in the worst nightmares of most people, it became clear that just like with regular people, certain creatures made it a point to make the lives of others miserable.

They also often relied on their underlings to carry out their orders, as was the case of your family’s unfortunate involvement.

After being bitten, your 3rd-great grandmother had hidden it from her husband, attempting to deal with it herself. That hadn’t worked, and since she’d been alone and scared for every transformation before anyone had figured it out, she’d done a lot of damage in her town and the surrounding areas to both people and livestock.

That resulted in the need for your entire family line to flee to a new place - uprooting their lives in more ways than one all at once.

Your family had been as accepting as possible of the change in the status quo, but secrecy regarding her condition had resulted in strained relationships long term, even after making attempts to eliminate the wolves responsible. But we could only do so much.

You flipped through your notes again, one finger running down the page margin and lingering on the list of things you were looking for - bites in certain areas, broken bones in the feet and ankles, unusually gruesome remains - and then checked it against the meager information you’d been able to compile from the recent cases in Florida.

When you’d been clued in on the family mission, you’d been skeptical - not that werewolves and other things like them could exist, but that it was possible that one line of wolves was the only one responsible for those types of kills. Because it seems like they’d all do things like this.

Letting out a sigh, you flipped one notebook closed and pulled out a leatherbound one from years earlier - the property of your great, great grandfather - and scanned the small, neat script that filled the pages. Not all of them are bloodthirsty monsters, though.

It had taken some time - your first bitten relative long dead by then - but someone in your family had made contact with other wolves, convincing them to meet and have a conversation before anyone acted rashly.

That conversation was the basis for everything that you were still practicing a century later.

It turned out that multiple packs existed - each of them descended from a unique line that could be traced back to the beginning. Except for one. The woman that had met with your 2nd-great grandfather had been clear about many things, and laying the blame for the bad reputation most wolves had solely on what wolves in the community called the Chaos line was only one of them.

She’d expressed disappointment that your family was seeking out wolves with the intent to end them, but understood the sentiment - because they were looking, too … and had had no better luck overall.

That meeting - and a tenuous working relationship - between your family and that contact’s line had sustained the search for years. But as times changed, the wolves became less willing to work with humans looking to harm their kind. They’d assured your relatives that they would handle it, that they could be counted on, and that they wouldn’t interfere with your search for no reason … but that the sharing of information would stop.

That hadn’t gone over well, but luckily cooler heads on both sides had prevailed. Though you no longer had assistance from your former allies, they kept their distance - and you were careful to ensure that when (and if) you acted on information, you weren’t seeking out the wrong wolves.

In almost 75 years, there hadn’t been a misstep, and you were determined not to be the one that broke that record. “But I also need to find the source of that line.” Covering your face with both hands, you took a deep breath. “And it’s hard.”

You had a sneaking suspicion that Alec was still somehow meeting with one of the wolves and getting information from them, even if it wasn’t consistent. It would have explained how he always seemed to have a new, somewhat established lead, and why the two of you never seemed to be in the same place at the same time. But everyone searches a little differently, so maybe not.

Glancing over at the window, you were surprised to see that the sunlight had shifted, more time than you’d thought passing while you reviewed notes. “Shit.” Swearing again, you checked your email, finding that Tom had sent over paperwork nearly an hour earlier.

It was straightforward, and only took you a few minutes to fill out and send back, along with a text - just liked he’d asked. That done, you decided to stop for the day. Except … You reached for your bag and pulled the folded paper out, climbing into bed and leaning against the headboard while you stared at it.

In all the locations you’d been on your search, things hadn’t ever fallen into place as easily as they had in only one day in Florida. Part of you wondered if it was sign that things were about to go off the rails, but another part of you believed that things were happening because they were supposed to - because you’d finally pieced something together correctly, and were on the right track.

Frankie’s flyer included a website address, and after typing it into your phone’s browser, you spent a few minutes reading through it. It was more detailed - cost breakdowns, sample routes, gift package options and client testimonials were all listed in an easy to navigate format - and you appreciated the effort that had gone into the creation of the site. But even if it was a mess, the fact that he looks like that would make a lot of people overlook it.

His safety record and qualifications were extensive, and even though the majority of the photos on the site had been taken from the air and were of landscapes, there were a few more of him, too. One of them was of the man leaning against the side of a helicopter, a button down shirt open over an undershirt, both arms crossed over his chest.

He was smiling in that one, a genuine expression that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and exposed a dimple on one cheek, and at the sight of it, you acted. Within mere seconds of clicking on the “email for more information” link, you were typing furiously, lips pressed together in concentration.

Hi, Frankie. I was referred to you by your friend Tom this afternoon while he was showing me some apartments. I’m looking to book some flight time with you, but what would work best for me is one of the custom flight plans, I think. I can explain more over the phone, so please give me a call whenever you can. Thanks!

You sent it - along with your full name and phone number - before you could second guess yourself. That done, you exhaled, rubbing your fingers against your forehead. It hadn’t been a wasted day by any means, but you still felt uneasy being idle - even though there was nothing else for you to do.

With a quick glance at the clock, you got up and took the few steps back to your laptop, unplugging it and then carrying it into the bed. I can start making a list of bars and restaurants. I’ll need that.

Starting the same playlist you’d had on that morning, you opened up a spreadsheet and Google, getting ready to settle in, start your list - and figure out something for dinner that night.

But you’d barely added anything to it before your phone rang, the device vibrating on the mattress next to one knee. The number was unfamiliar, even though the area code was the same as Tom’s, so you picked it up, clearing your throat as you answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is…” He cleared his throat, too, and then hummed. “This is Frankie Morales, I’m calling you back about the email you just sent me?” You wanted to answer - wanted to let him know that he had the right number and that yes, you were the one that had emailed … but nothing came out when you opened your mouth. His voice. It’s so… it’s so deep and he … he sounds like… “Hey, you there? Hello?”

You’d only seen images of him, but the man’s face paired with the sound of his voice through the speaker of your phone was enough to bring him almost fully to life in your mind. Get it the fuck together. “Yeah, I am, I just …” Closing your eyes and shaking your head, you gripped the device more tightly. “I wasn’t expecting you to call so fast, it’s only been like half an hour.”

He chuckled then, the sound short and quiet, but it made your eyes widen and your lips part in surprise at the same time. I like the sound of that. “Yeah, I’m just getting ready to head out for the day. Finished my last flight and got my girl - the helicopter - ready for tomorrow, so I thought I’d check my email before I left.” Frankie paused, and then spoke again. “And your email was waiting.”

“Thank you for calling back.” Sliding the laptop off of your lap, you leaned back, resting your head against the headboard. “I figured it would be easier to explain what I’m looking for instead of typing, and -”

“A customized tour, right?” You agreed, nodding even though he couldn’t see it. “What area? And when? If you’re looking for a place to rent here, it sounds like you’re going to be sticking around.”

“Probably more than one, to be honest.” You frowned then, thinking. “I’m not even really sure what I want to see, I just know a few different places will be better than…” Trailing off, you closed your eyes. I hate being unprepared. “Is there a time I could come by your office or something? I could explain what I’m looking for and you might be able to suggest things since you live here.”

Frankie didn’t respond right away, and when he did, you heard apprehension in his voice, though it was quickly replaced with confidence the longer he spoke. “I do have an office, but I’m pretty booked out for the next few weeks, and I don’t have much downtime between flights because it’s a lot of prep work. It’s just me right now, aside from my mechanic.” Oh. OK. That makes sense. “But - and you can say no - I’m free tonight if you wanted to meet up and maybe grab a beer or a coffee if you don’t drink? That way I’ll know what you’re looking for and whether or not I can help.”

It made sense - and you’d just offered to do basically the same thing by going to his office. But … “I don’t want to take up your night, Frankie. Thank you though. I’ll just email you details about what I’m looking for and you can call if you have questions.”

“If that’s what you’d rather do, that’s fine.” He paused, but when he spoke again, he sounded determined. “But you wouldn’t be taking up my time. I’m meeting my buddies for a couple drinks, but they’re not off until later… so really, you’d be keeping me busy until it’s time for my my plans.” Buddies? Drinks … could it be…

“Are you talking about the bar your friends own?” Thinking hard, you tried to remember the names Tom had given you. “Benny and … Will?” He let out a breath, the sound registering as startled to you, but he replied right away.

“Yeah. I’m headed to the bar they own after I go home and change and all that. Standing Sunday night thing with everyone.” Glancing at your suitcase and then at the mirror across the room, you contemplated his invitation. “If you met with Redfly today, you must be sorta close.” He said your name, the sound filled with warmth as it reached your ear. “I’ll text you the address. If you decide to come, great. If not, just email me and we’ll figure something out. I can have you drop by during one of my breaks or something.”

He’s not being pushy, he’s just being direct. OK. You agreed, and a few seconds later, you got his message - pulling your phone away from your ear to look at the screen. “Got it. I don’t know how far away it is, though.”

“Like I said, no big deal if you decide not to come, just thought I’d suggest it. He cleared his throat again. “Either way, I’ll get you up in the air somehow. I’m gonna let you go so I can get out of here. Maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Maybe.” He laughed again, and then said goodbye, the phone going dead in your ear moments later. It won’t hurt to see how far away this place is. Opening the address in Maps, you were shocked to find out that you were only 15 minutes from the bar. And he has to go home so that means I’d have time to jump in the shower.

You only gave yourself a minute or two to think about it - and then you were on your feet, digging through your suitcase for a new outfit. Fuck it. I’m gonna do what I came here to do… and if that means meeting Frankie like this, than … that’s how it’s going to be.

—

tag list coming soon!

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somethingtofightfor-shares · 2 years ago

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Competing For Christmas 8: Every Year, Every Christmas

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 11,750

Rating: M. Language, angst, blackmail.

Summary:

You know that Bo-Katan and her friends are in Mistletoe, but not what she wants from Boba ... and Din.

And after you find out, the question becomes even more complicated: what does Boba expect from Din... and what does it mean for your relationship with him?

Author’s notes:

It's the middle of April, shhhhh.

Thank you for being so patient with me while I took a step back and worked on other things. The first draft of this featured Bo being absolutely vile based on my own feelings about what they're doing with her character in the show - and while it was cathartic to write it that way, it didn't serve the overall story, so I had to tone it down.

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open!

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Masterlist / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5.1 / Part 5.2 / Din’s POV Interlude / Part 6.1 / Part 6.2 / Part 7

That night, you went through the motions of getting things together for the following day.

Wrapped presents were stacked carefully into boxes and then placed by the door. The food you’d prepped in the previous days went in a separate box, and then that box was placed into the backseat of your car. You counted on the frigid overnight temperature to keep everything cold, but that was only part of it.

You wanted the few moments of frigid air to shock your system - to distract you from everything you were feeling.

And it worked. Briefly.

You stood in your driveway for a little while, staring up at the sky as the snow continued to fall. Fat, cold flakes landed on your face and melted almost immediately, the contrast between those tracks and the ones made by your tears only hours earlier very different.

You hadn’t cried in the man’s presence, and you were proud of yourself for it.

I’ll cry later, you’d promised yourself on the drive over to the Chalet, Din’s fingers entwined tightly with yours on the center console.

You made the promise again as you sat in the main area of the suite Boba was staying in, curled up in one corner of the couch as Din, Fennec and Boba talked quietly on the other side of the room, preparing themselves for whatever Bo-Katan had to say.

It was repeated a third time as the red haired woman laid out the reason she was in Mistletoe and what her demands were. Her hazel eyes locked with yours and filled with venom, the twist of her lips as she waited for a response from Din and Boba easily identified as gloating.

Not only did you refuse to give the woman the satisfaction of knowing that her words - and what she’d requested happen next - had struck a nerve, but you also didn’t want Din to see how hurt you were by everything. Because it’s not his problem. And there’s no reason to give her anything else to use against him.

And the fourth promise had come on the way home, you tucked into the back seat of Fennec’s SUV, the woman staying silent for almost the entire way back to your place, though you’d caught her watching you in the rearview mirror a few times.

That time, your promise was because even though the woman was sworn to be loyal to Boba first and foremost, you knew that she’d tell Din everything, too - and him knowing that you’d spent the entire drive crying wouldn’t solve anything.

But alone in your house? That was a different story. As you finally lowered your gaze from the sky to the street in front of you - all of your neighbors’ houses lit up in festive lights, the twinkling bulbs cheerful against the darkened landscape - you let the tears fall.

As they did, you went back inside, locking the door behind you and shutting off all the lights in the house aside from your tree. I’ve cried more over Din than I did during my entire relationship with James.

Gathering a pillow and a large, fluffy blanket, you lowered yourself onto the couch and kept your eyes on the branches, the view of them blurring as your tears intensified. Get it out. Get it out now and then you can go and have Christmas with your family tomorrow and you’ll be alright.

You would be alright - eventually. Even though nothing concrete had been decided or agreed to out loud, you knew that whenever they came, the words were just going to be a formality. She left him … them no choice.

At that, you cried harder, straightening out your legs and laying on your side, head sinking into the pillow. She left none of us a choice.

—

“Don’t let her get to you.” Din glanced over at you, squeezing your fingers. “She’s going to try and provoke you because she knows she can’t easily provoke me or Fett, and Fennec’s not going to give anything away, so…” He sighed. “She’s going to go for you.”

“She won’t get a goddamn thing out of me, Din.” Clearing your throat, you shifted in your seat. “It’s going to be hard for me to keep my mouth shut, of course. But I know how important this is to you and to Boba, and … I know I need to -”

“She’s going to bring things up. Things that shouldn’t matter. Things that don’t matter, except…” He sighed. “Except to someone that I’m with, and…”

“Is this about you and her, Din?” Turning your head completely toward him, you frowned. “Like an arranged marriage thing because you’re going to be the Mand’a-”

“No.” He laughed, the sound short and sharp. “Not at all. But the Kryze family is one of the oldest in Mandalore, and there are some that believe that they should be on the throne. That the bloodline and family history mean more than anything else.” He took a breath, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as you sat at a light. “There was some unrest when Boba took the oath, and we all thought she was behind it, but it didn’t last long. If she’s here now, it might mean that she’s going to try to challenge my transition to the throne, and …”

“And she’ll do whatever it takes.” You laughed, in spite of yourself. “That’s how elections are here. Both sides try and outdo the other on the shit they dig up and the claims they make about people’s histories. But Din, you’ve known Boba forever. If you’d been in any trouble, or done anything bad, he wouldn’t have chosen you. He -”

“I was with a woman for a little while.” He sighed. “She ran with a pretty shitty crew. We got into some trouble, but it was all stupid stuff, nothing serious.” Din stopped, glancing over. “I ended things. I told her - and them - I didn’t want to be around them anymore, because it wasn’t … wasn’t worth it. And I got out just in time, because one of them got arrested a little while later, and then another one did. The girl that I’d been with disappeared and then she showed up again 6 months later in a different country and…”

Din stopped, his eyes on the road. It doesn’t change anything.

“We’ve all dated or known shitty people, Din. You never got into trouble with them, and they never mentioned you when they got into trouble, right?” He confirmed that that was the case, his words clipped. “Ok, then it doesn’t matter. She can’t use something against you if that something doesn’t even exist.”

“If she’s talked to them, though…” He pulled into the ski lodge’s parking lot, easing into a space. “She might know more, and might have been told things by Xi’an, and …” He pulled his hand from yours and then turned the car off, the silence growing louder. “She could compare that to what’s going on between us, and -”

“Din.” Reaching over, you laid your hand on his knee. “There’s no comparison. First of all, you and I aren’t together. Second of all, You’ve met an ex of mine. It’s not a secret that either of us have had relationships in the past, or that we’ve made some questionable decisions when it comes to the people we date.” You smiled, raising your eyebrows and then looking out the window. “We know the truth. Nothing that that woman says is going to change how I feel or what I think. Maybe someday you can tell me about these people. About … her and the others. Maybe you’ll want me to tell you about mine. But that’s not today.”

“It’s not.” He unbuckled his seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. “But you needed to know what to expect. The more off guard you are, the more she’s going to feed into it. Boba and Fennec are pretty good at running interference, but …”

“I’ll be fine. Let’s just … get this over with, alright?” Get it over with so I know how much longer I have you here for. “Find out what she has to say, and then figure out how you’re going to get around it and do what you need to do.”

“Whatever Boba says to you in there, you need to treat him like you would if you were meeting any king or queen when they get here.” He gestured for the door and you followed him outside and then across the parking lot, the man’s hand pressed against your lower back as your boots hit the concrete. “He isn’t your Mand’alor, but -”

“Din.” You closed your eyes. “I understand.” He wet his lips, finally nodding as the elevator arrived. “The last thing I want to do is embarrass you in front of -”

When the doors shut behind the two of you, Din cut you off as he moved, the man’s hands going to the sides of your face and his lips descending to meet yours. I should have known.

It was only two floors and so there was barely any time, but the mere press of his lips was enough to ground you, your eyes squeezed shut while his thumbs stroked over your cheeks. “You would never embarrass me.”

He straightened up just as the alert dinged and the doors slid open, and moments later, you were in front of one of the suites, Din’s large hand raised to knock on the door.

It took no time at all for Fennec to pull it open, the woman’s expression neutral. “You’re back in plenty of time. Good.” Stepping aside to let you in, she waited until you were inside to close and relock the door, crossing her arms over her chest as she eyed you. “They’ll be here soon, I’m sure. While we wait, is there anything you need to tell me?”

She was speaking to Din but staring at you, and before the man could answer, you did. “No. I got a speeding ticket once when I was like 17, but -”

“There’s nothing that could harm us, Fennec. I promise. You already know everything that they could know, and…” He sighed, stepping a little closer and reaching for your hand. “And probably more.” More? What else did he tell her?

“I’m not afraid of Bo-Katan Kryze and you shouldn’t be, either.” The bald man stepped into the room, his arms swinging loosely by his sides. “Whatever she has to say is just that - words. We’ll deal with it, and move forward.”

“If it’s that simple, why are you here?” Din spoke to Boba like a friend and not a subject, and even though it shocked you, you understood. Because they’re friends first and foremost. And they can talk like this. “You wouldn’t be here if -”

“We’re here, Din, because whatever she has to say, whatever she’s going to try? She needs to know that you aren’t alone in this. That you have my full support to be here.” Boba watched you, his serious expression contradicted by the amusement in his eyes. “And that I understood there was a chance that you’d find something here that you hadn’t expected.” Me. He means … me.

With that realization came the one that you hadn’t done what you were supposed to when the man walked into the room. With a quiet gasp, you ducked your head, averting your eyes. “Mand’alor. I apologize for -”

“Stop that.” He said your name and you looked back up to find Boba grinning at you, one hand on his hip in much the same way Din always stood. “We’re in a hotel room. There’s no need for formality, especially since you’re a friend of Din’s.” He stepped closer and extended his hand. “It’s great to finally meet you. Din’s told me so much.”

He has? You shook the man’s hand, making note of the fact that Din actively stepped to the side to provide better access to you. “He’s told me a lot about you, too.”

“All good things I hope.” He winked and pulled his hand back, taking a deep breath. “Both of you get comfortable. We probably only have a few minutes until Kryze and her friends get here, and there’s a few things we need to talk about.”

—

It had all seemed so simple, even though you were terrified of the outcome. And I had good reason to be.

Rolling onto your back, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, swiping at your damp cheeks with the blanket. You hadn’t had to say much earlier - everyone else in the room had spoken in your place, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t wanted to say anything.

You’d known almost from the moment a knock had sounded at the door that things were going to change rapidly, and that your place in the conversation was as close to the sidelines as it could get without completely removing you from it.

“I should have said more.” You spoke to the empty house, sniffing as you fixed your gaze on the ceiling. I should have done more.

But you hadn’t - and neither had Din, even as things wound down and Bo-Katan and her friends had left the four of you alone for the little while before Fennec had been tasked with driving you home so that the two men could talk in private.

Forcing yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen, you opened a bottle of water and took a long drink. Recapping it, you held the cool plastic up to your forehead. It helped - some - and when you took another deep breath to steady yourself, the release of it wasn’t shaky. Ok. This is … good.

Staring out at the back yard, you watched the snowflakes swirling against the window, and wondered if Din was still in Boba’s suite or if he’d driven back to his place.

It wasn’t late - barely after midnight, and when you turned away from the window you reached for your bag, pulling out your phone.

You had no alerts, so you opened Din’s message thread and stared at the words on the screen, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. Should I even bother?

On one hand, Din had said he’d reach out, and you didn’t want to appear clingy or intrusive. But on the other hand, you’d never been shy about texting him before. You started typing, trying to keep things short and to the point.

I’m sure Fennec told you, but I made it home. Thank you for tonight, Din - for making sure I was OK throughout that conversation. And thank you for everything that came before it, too. We made a good team. I’m not sure when I’ll talk to you next, or what you’re doing for the holiday, but … Merry Christmas.

Reading over your words, you bit your lower lip and then frowned, deleting everything but the first sentence.

You stared at the screen for long moments and then began typing again, pressing send without even bothering to reread your words - or giving yourself a chance to lose your nerve.

I’m sure Fennec told you, but I made it home. I’m leaving for my family’s tomorrow at 2, and then Christmas morning over there starts at 10. If I don’t talk to you before then, Merry Christmas, Din. Make sure you take Grogu for that walk to see the tree if you can.

Plugging the device in and setting it down onto the table, you gave your phone one last look before turning away and heading up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You doubted that sleep would come quickly, even as you snuggled beneath your comforter and pressed your face into the pillow. And when you closed your eyes and focused on elongating your breaths, you knew you were right - because the only thing you could think of was the look on Din’s face from earlier that night, the man’s reaction to Bo-Katan’s words something that he hadn’t been able to hide.

Not as well as Boba, anyway.

—

Din and Boba had filled you in on the condensed version of Mandalorian history as it pertained to the Kryze family and their position in relation to the throne. You were somewhat confused, but understood the basics - and with each word that was spoken, your heart sunk a little more.

Even though neither of the men seemed worried about what was going to be discussed, you couldn’t help your nerves. If she came all the way here to see Din, she has something important to say. She’s got some plan, and …

“She’ll try to get some sort of rise out of you.” Fennec interrupted Din, the woman standing and crossing her arms over her chest. “She knows all of us, and how we’ll react, but you’re… you’re the wildcard.” She arched a brow, staring at you. “That’s probably why she was talking to your ex. She wanted information and to know things that she couldn’t find by looking you up.”

“I’m a boring person, Fennec.” You shrugged and looked away from her and at Boba before locking eyes with Din. “There’s nothing to find. And whatever James had to tell her couldn’t have been anything important, so -”

“What is important to her might not seem important to you.” Boba sighed, and for the first time, you saw some unease in his expression. “When Din told us about you, of course we looked into you - ran your name, compiled a file about you.” What? “We wanted to make sure that you weren’t hiding anything and that there wasn’t anything troublesome that could come up in the future.”

“And they found nothing.” Din reached out, settling a hand on your knee and squeezing. “Not that I knew anything about this until it was already done, but …” He shook his head, mouth pressed into a thin line. “This is probably just her trying to make a last ditch attempt to work her way back toward the palace as Boba leaves, but -”

“But until they’re here, we won’t know.” Boba stood, holding both hands out. “You are safe here. I might be Mand’alor and have Fennec here by my side, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t handle myself if necessary. And that means that there are three of us that can -”

“Only one of us is responsible for her, Fett.” Din stood, too, facing his friend. “And it’s not either of you.” You shivered at the sight - Din facing the other man, his posture slightly less loose than it usually was, fingers curled into loose fists at his sides. “Bo-Katan will say what she came to say, and she’ll have her two friends with her, but the only person you need to worry about is yourself, because if you think that I’m going to be anywhere but right next to -”

“You can’t be.” You spoke quietly, but all three of them immediately turned to look at you. Shit. “Din, you can’t give her or them anything to fuel the fire. Whatever she has to say, you and Bob- the Mand’alor - have to be on the same page.”

It pained you to say it, but with the slight tilt of Fennec’s chin and the widening of Boba’s eyes, you knew that you were right. “But I -”

“Din.” Wetting your lips, you sighed. “You can protect me just as well from a couple feet away as you could if you were sitting right next to me. You know I’m right.”

The room went silent as the three of them looked between themselves, and after a few moments that began to border on uncomfortable, Din let out a long sigh and nodded - first at Fennec and then at you, finally looking at his king.

“This is the Way.”

The man and woman nodded, but before anyone could speak, there was a knock at the door, all four of you turning toward the sound. Here we go.

Standing, you moved from the couch to one of the chairs, passing behind Din and giving his arm a quick squeeze in support. He and Boba turned toward the door as Fennec answered it, the woman beckoning the three Mandalorians inside and quickly frisking each of them before she let them pass.

The man and woman didn’t get too close, instead standing across from where you sat and watching you, the woman’s eyes filled with amusement. What are you looking at? Fighting to keep your expression even, you didn’t linger on them, instead watching as Bo-Katan fully entered the room and headed for Din and Boba.

“This is a much better place to talk, don’t you think?” She smiled as she spoke, but it didn’t reach her eyes, the woman giving Boba only the slightest lowering of her head before she turned her attention to you.”Hello.”

“It is. Privacy is the one luxury that we should always afford ourselves for these important conversations, yes?” Boba spoke with authority, his tone much different than the one he’d used only moments earlier with you. In those few words, you began to understand what would be expected of Din as soon as he took over. This is how he’s going to have to behave. How he’s going to act around the people he rules.

“We weren’t properly introduced earlier.” She ignored Boba’s words, stopping a few feet away from where you sat. “I am Bo-Katan of House Kryze. Mine is one of Mandalore’s oldest surviving families.” She straightened up, squaring her shoulders. “As the Mand’alor has Fennec Shand for protection, I have them.” She pointed with one finger. “Axe Woves and Koska Reeves are two of my closest friends.” Friends? They don’t look like friends right now.

You looked away from the red-haired woman and at the two she’d mentioned, nodding and attempting to smile. “Nice to meet you. Hope you’re enjoying Mistletoe. You picked a good time to be here.”

You were shocked at how smoothly the words came out, and unless you were mistaken, you saw a brief smile on the man’s face before he slipped back into impassivity. Interesting. Figured it’d be Koska that gave anything away. Refocusing on Bo-Katan, you stood and held out your hand, waiting until she took it give her your full name and a second welcome to your city. It’s the last thing I want to do.

“Can we get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?” Boba took another step forward when you sat back down, the man gesturing toward the kitchenette. “You’ve probably already eaten, so -”

“I think we should just get straight to the point, don’t you?” She put her hands on her hips, looking between the two men. “You came a long way and so did we.”

“Yeah.” Din sniffed, narrowing his eyes. “It’s been a long day, so…” He gestured toward the loveseat, which was positioned across from and facing the couch, the coffee table between the two. “We might as well just get to it.”

You shifted on the chair as the three of them moved into place - Din and Boba taking seats on the couch with Din on the cushion closest to you while Bo-Katan lowered herself onto the smaller piece of furniture.

Axe and Koska looked on, and so did Fennec from her place behind Din and Boba, and all you could do was wait, your breath caught in your throat.

Crossing her legs at the knee, Bo-Katan leaned forward and locked eyes with the Mand’alor. “I’ll admit that you did a good job keeping it under wraps, but you weren’t good enough. I know that you’re on your way out, Fett, and I know that you’ve chosen Din Djarin as your successor.” The room was silent, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you waited for whatever came next. “I also know that you plan on this change happening within the next six months.”

That shocked you, your fingers tightening against the arm of the couch before you could stop it from happening. Six months? That means he won’t get to stay for his full year. That means … “Even if true, that timeline has no impact on you, Bo-Katan.” Boba sighed, head shaking back and forth. “Neither does who I choose to lead once I take my leave from the palace.”

“Both of you might not be as familiar with Mandalorian history as I am, but there’s something that you aren’t considering.” She raised one brow, smirking - and her attention shifted from Boba to Din. “The people of Mandalore are forgiving when it comes to many things, but you know what they won’t forgive from their Mand’alor, Din?”

He blinked slowly in response. “What?” It was only one word but you could hear the warning in it, the man’s tone clearly letting Bo-Katan know that he was unhappy to be having the conversation. Cool it, Din. We just talked about this. “What are you so sure they wouldn’t forgive of the Mand’alor?”

“A leader who prioritizes spending time in a foreign country and celebrating holidays with a woman he barely knows instead of spending the months leading up to his coronation familiarizing himself with Mandalorian culture and what actually being Mand’alor means.”

Din sucked a breath in through his nose, opening his mouth to reply - but Boba cut in, the bald man shifting his position on the couch to lean in, pulling Bo’s attention back to him. “What Din does in his free time is of no concern to anyone but him. I haven’t named anyone as my successor yet. This is -”

“Cut the shit.” She rolled her eyes and then looked at you, the smirk returning to her lips. “You two think you’ve been so careful, hmm? Partnering up for this competition, presenting nothing more than a friendly image? You tried to get to know him because you wanted to - “

“I tried to get to know him because people work better together when they’re friendly, Bo-Katan.” Raising and lowering your shoulders in a shrug, you hummed. “Din and I are just friends. We’re competition partners and coworkers. And I had no idea where he was from or what a Mand’alor was until a few weeks ago.” You wanted to say more but stopped yourself. Less is more. Only say what you need to say.

“Your people are good, but mine are just as good.” She reached into one pocket, pulling her phone out and tapping a few times on the screen. “It’ll be interesting to see you try to spin the reasoning behind keeping this hidden, Din.”

You knew what it was before she showed anyone the screen, and you had to force yourself to stay still instead of reaching for Din’s hand. You caught a glimpse of the image - you and Din kissing the night of the snowman competition - as she held it out toward the men, her smirk turning into a full-blown grin. How’d she see that? They took it down so fast.

“Were you trying to hide the fact that you’re seeing someone? Trying to keep people from seeing a less than regal side of you? Trying to manage her expectations so that you can deny that anything happened after you leave?” Bo paused, cocking her head to the side. “The fact is that whatever the motivation is, you deliberately took this down. And if you’re hiding something like this this from your people to protect your image before you’re Mand’alor, what will you keep from them after? What - and who else are you hiding, Djarin? What will people find if they do a little digging?”

“Kryze, how dare you -” Din spoke but Boba held up a hand, stopping him.

“And what will you do with this, Bo-Katan Kryze?” He straightened up, brow furrowed. “There’s obviously something that you hoped to accomplish by coming here and confronting us with this picture. What do you want?” That stupid picture. It shouldn’t matter. It was just a kiss. Just a fucking single kiss, and…

But it wasn’t just a kiss, and it hadn’t been, even then. You’d both known that getting close was a bad idea. But you’d gravitated toward each other without pause, the kiss happening as though it was meant to - the camera capturing the moment on accident when it should have stayed private. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have asked him to be my partner. I should have just left him alone.

“I want you, Boba Fett, to name me as your successor. Put me on the throne and let me lead Mandalore as I’m meant to.” She paused, darkening the screen on her phone and slipping it into her pocket. “I’m already well versed in Mandalorian culture and custom, and know what the people need. I’ve lived my entire life in view of our people, and I have nothing to hide.” She raised herself to her full height, head angled back slightly. “Do this and the photograph - as well as the information I’ve compiled about Din - in Mandalore and here and his association with her will remain a secret. You know, if you’re not Mand’alor, Din, you can stay here with her if you want.”

The room was silent as Bo-Katan paused, letting her words sink in. He won’t do that. And even if Din wanted to, Boba wouldn’t let him. You didn’t know much about Mandalorian culture, but you knew that much - even if it hurt to admit it.

“Refuse this? The picture gets released, and the people will know exactly what you’ve been doing for the last 9 months, Djarin. They’ll know you weren’t in Mandalore. They’ll know you took nothing seriously until the last second. And even if that isn’t the case and you’ve been educating yourself while you’re here? You’ll start your reign with people doubting you and your commitment to them and their future, and you’ll tarnish the entirety of Boba Fett’s time on the throne.”

“How dare you.” Boba’s voice was lower, his eyes blazing. “You’d threaten the Mand’alor? Blackmail him and the potential future Mand’alor at the same time?”

“Yes. Because I want what’s best for Mandalore. I want to make sure that -” She stopped, thinking. “If you won’t do it for Boba Fett, Din, do it for her.” Bo-Katan pointed at you, her gaze sliding over briefly before it returned to Din’s face. “If this picture comes out, she’ll be everywhere. You won’t be able to do anything about it because you won’t be here. You’ll have thrown away your credibility for a few months with a woman that you left behind just so you can take the throne and choose a partner in the future.” That hurts. It’s the truth, but it still hurts.

“This isn’t about me.” You cleared your throat. “It never has been.” And it never will be.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Bo turned her entire body toward you, her smile widening. “This is all about you - and Din. And I should thank you for giving me this opening, but that seems kind of cruel, doesn’t it?”

She stood then, and you watched Fennec shift her weight out of the corner of one eye. But instead of moving toward the two men, the redhead moved away, beckoning to the pair she’d come in with. When they reached the door, all three stopped, Bo-Katan turning back to look in your direction.

“Take the holidays.Think about it. You know my terms. You have my word - on my family’s honor - that I will not do anything until the New Year. It’s Christmas after all.” She scoffed, saying your name. “This isn’t personal. It could have been anyone with Din, and I’d still be making this offer. It just happened to be you. Djarin. Shand.” She nodded and then the door opened, the three of them stepping out and into the hallway before you’d even come up with a response.

It was silent in the room for at least 30 seconds once the door closed, and you were locked into position, staring at the doorway. What just happened? What was … that …

Din broke the silence first, voice laced with anger. “This is bantha shit Boba, and you know it. She -”

“Din.” The tone of his voice made your blood run cold, and your attention went back to the bald man. You watched as he stood, running one large palm over the top of his head. This isn’t good.

Fennec stayed in place and so did you, but Din moved his hands along the tops of his thighs, head shaking back and forth. “What? What do you -”

“She isn’t wrong, Din. If that picture were to come out, that, along with whatever kind of explanation she released with it - no matter whether or not it was truthful - would be damaging. Your credibility and mine would be tarnished, and that’s not … that’s not what I want people to remember me for. That isn’t what I want for you either.”

Din’s mouth dropped open, but it was you that spoke first, your brittle laugh filling the room for a few seconds before the words followed.

“Looks like we all should have been a little more worried about what Bo-Katan had to say, hmm?”

—

You woke up in the early morning light, groaning as you stretched out on your bed. The few hours of sleep you got had been broken, your body waking you up from a handful of bad dreams. And of course there’s non-negotiable family time today.

Rubbing your eyes, you stared up at the ceiling. Maybe I can go to back to sleep.

But as soon as you had the thought, you knew that it wouldn’t happen. “Get up.” Covering your face with both hands, you took a deep breath.

The first dream had been about Din leaving - the man coming to your door to say goodbye in an emotionless tone, treating you as nothing more than coworker.

The second dream featured you waking up one morning to find your lawn covered with reporters, a swarm of them surrounding your car as you left to go to work. They’d been flinging questions about Din at you, some of them waving printouts of the photo of you kissing in your face.

The third dream had been the worst, though.

In it, you’d opened your mailbox one day to find a gilded envelope addressed to you. When you’d carefully used a finger to break the wax seal - embossed with something that looked like the skull of a wooly mammoth - you’d collapsed to the floor.

Inside the envelope had been a thick piece of cardstock, covered in writing that was in two languages, one of which you’d never seen before. It was a wedding invitation, and at the sight of the first name on the paper - Din’s - you’d started crying, dropping it to the ground next to you.

After waking up from that one, you’d stared up and into the darkness for a long time, and though nonverbally, you finally admitted to yourself that the feelings you had for Din had progressed to the point where him leaving was going to be a huge problem, no matter if it was at the end of his anticipated time or sooner.

I already knew it, but … but seeing that invitation was …

It wasn’t even a real wedding invitation, and logically you knew that the only reason you were having the dream in the first place was because you were overwhelmed by the day you’d had - but that didn’t make it any easier.

“I’m awake now.” Sitting up, you swung your feet over the edge of the bed and took a breath, eyes on the window. And there’s plenty to do.

There were no messages from Din on your phone when you checked it - but there were some from Cara and Stacy, congratulating you. There was one from your parents, too, sent almost an hour earlier to remind you not to forget to stop and bring a bag of ice with you. It made you laugh - the fact that one of them was awake before 8 am on Christmas Eve and worried about ice, but it didn’t surprise you.

You decided to get things out of the way and jumped into the shower before eating breakfast, the hot water distracting you for a few more minutes.

But it wasn’t enough. A a little after 9:30, you were curled back up on the couch in your bathrobe and a pair of sweats, holding a largely untouched mug of coffee in your hands.

It had stopped snowing overnight, but not before another inch or two had come down, coating everything in more glittering white. It was still cloudy, though beams of sunlight were peeking through the gray every now and then, making the ground sparkle.

It was the perfect Christmas Eve morning, and if you’d been any less stressed, you would have been thrilled about it. But not this time. You decided that you’d give yourself another few minutes before heading upstairs to start getting ready. Before you could settle back against the couch cushions, though, there was a knock at the door.

Your heart leapt at the sound and you were on your feet almost immediately, but when you opened the door, it wasn’t what you were expecting.

“Good morning.” The man cleared his throat, holding up a jug of blue liquid that was wrapped in what looked like a net. What the hell is … “I’m very sorry to show up uninvited, but …”

“Boba? W -” Wincing you stopped. “Mand’alor. I’m sorry, I just -”

“Call me Boba. Please.” He smiled, nodding. “It’s a lot to get used to.” You’re not wrong. Moving to the side, you gestured for him to come in, the man stepping through the doorway before closing it behind him. “I hope it’s not too early, Din told me that you had plans with your family today, and I wanted to make sure I got here before you left.”

“I do. My family gets together for Christmas every year, and I spend all afternoon and night there tonight, and then go back tomorrow to open gifts.” The two of you were in the kitchen, standing next to the counter. After a few seconds, he set the glass jug down, sliding it toward you. “What’s this?”

“It’s called Spotchka.” He grinned, nodding. “We’re very fond of it in Mandalore. While we were at school, Din and Fennec and I would sneak away and drink it together. She could somehow always find a bottle for us to share. Now …” He straightened up, gesturing the to the jug with one hand. “Now I can make sure we always have some on hand.”

You reached for it and pulled it closer to you, eyeing the brightly colored liquid. “I appreciate you bringing this for me, and I hope that you won’t get upset if I don’t open it right now. But it’s a little -”

“Early? Of course. It’s for you to enjoy whenever you’d like.” He nodded and you did the same in return. “I might not know a lot about your Christmas customs here in Mistletoe, but bringing a gift when showing up unexpectedly seems like the right thing to do.” That actually made you laugh, and as your fingers curled around the handle to move it from one portion of the counter to the other, you didn’t stop.

“Thank you, Boba.” You didn’t know what else to say - and were unsure of the man’s reason for even being at your house so early, but you didn’t want to question him, at least until he’d begun to explain. “Is there a certain way I should drink it? Does it need to be cold? Should I mix it with something? Does it pair well with a specific food?”

“I like it cold. It doesn’t need to be mixed, but you can.” He scratched the side of his head. “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Fennec eat while she’s drinking, but…” He laughed quietly, and his eyes darted away from you and toward your coffee pot. Shit.

“I’m so sorry. Do you want me to make you some coffee? It’ll only take a few seconds to brew. I should have asked before, but I didn’t sleep well, and -”

“That makes two of us. If it isn’t too much trouble, yes. Caf sounds good.” Two of us? Did you have a bad night, too? Turning away from him, you put a pod into the machine and then grabbed a mug, sticking it beneath the opening and pressing the button. “I apologize for last night.”

He spoke before you’d turned back to face him, and when you finally met his eyes, the man was standing tall, focused on you. This is a surprise. “You don’t need to apologize. I feel like this is my fault. I complicated everything when I asked Din to be my partner for the competition, and -”

“None of this is your fault.” Boba gestured toward the living room and your couch, and you nodded. Passing him the mug when the coffee was finished brewing, you asked if he needed cream or sugar. “No. Not today, thank you.”

Once the two of you were seated, he looked away from you and at the tree, the man running one thumb over the rim of his mug. Say something. “Din told me that you don’t celebrate like this in Mandalore. This was all new to him - the lights and decorations and excitement. It’s part of why I wanted to include him in the competition.” You eyed the tree, too. “We got him a tree. He bought lights and ornaments, and -”

“I know.” Boba sipped his coffee, meeting your eyes. “I saw it when I was in his house.” Oh. So you … you went to his house and … “He’s very proud of it.”

“He should be.” You forced a smile. “It doesn’t seem like he’s going to get to enjoy it for much longer, though.” Boba took a deep breath and then leaned forward, setting the mug down onto your coffee table. Here we go.

“He told you about our childhoods, yes?” You gave him a nod, hands clasped together in your lap. “About growing up together as Foundlings?”

“He didn’t go into a lot of detail, but yeah. He said you got close while you were at school, and it was kind of a shock when you got chosen to be Mand’alor, but that he was happy for you.”

“He was. And so was Fennec. They are my closest friends, and I wanted to do everything for them that I could.” He shook his head, muttering something under his breath. “The people of Mandalore deserve to have someone that understands them on the throne. You might think it’s archaic, but -”

“No.” You were serious, reaching out to touch the man’s hand before you could stop yourself. “Boba, it’s …” Oops. You pulled away, apologizing. Just reaching out and casually holding the Mand’alor’s hand. Perfect. “It’s what works. It’s what your people expect.” He agreed, his head turned toward you. “I think that’s why it works so well to pass the leadership down by choice, not by blood. Because things change, and not all people are the same, even in families.”

“Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” He held up a hand. “I’m sorry. You don’t… that means “family is more than blood” in our language, and it’s how we live our lives.” Why is he telling me this? “If you are Mandalorian, you are family. I’ve worked very hard to make sure that the people know this, and want my successor to do the same.”

“Din. You want Din to do the same.”

“I do.” There was no hesitation with his reply, the man staring directly into your eyes. “I’ve known since the day I became Mand’alor that Din would take my place someday. I didn’t know when, but I knew that when the time came, I would know.”

“He’s not sure if he wants to be Mand’alor.” It slipped out and though you were afraid you’d overstepped, it was Boba’s turn to reach over, the man touching - and then taking one of your hands, his fingers curling around yours.

“I know. He’s told me as much, long before he came here. But it’s because Din doesn’t want the positon that he has to take it.”

You squeezed the man’s hand back, your chin dropping as you fought back tears. “He’ll be a good ruler. A fair one. He’s smart. And he cares. He cares so much, and just wants to do the right thing for your country.”

“He will.” Boba said your name, waiting until you raised your head to say anything else. “We’re leaving tonight. Bo-Katan’s involvement has changed the timeline, and we need to get back so that we can figure out how to counteract her.” Tonight?

Gasping at his words, you stiffened. He said he’d be the one to tell me. He said that he’d say goodbye. “Did he ask you to come here?” The shock turned to unease and then to anger, though you didn’t know if it was justified. “Did he ask you so that he -”

“He didn’t.” Boba tightened his grip briefly and then released your hand. “He knows I’m here, but he didn’t ask me to come. I suggested it.”

“Why?” You felt the panic rising in your chest, the realization that even if he hadn’t asked the other man to come and deliver the message, he’d agreed to it. I’m not going to get to say goodbye. He’s going to leave and I’m never going to see him again. “He said that he’d say goodbye. He told me that he wouldn’t leave without -”

“This isn’t an easy situation for either of you.” Boba shifted on the couch cushion, angling his body toward yours. “After what happened last night, and how we left things before Fennec brought you home, I thought … it would be best to let you know what was going to happen. Din wanted to be here, but I didn’t think that he should see you in person until he knows what he’s going to say.”

“What is there to say?” You stood, gesturing toward your front door. “He’s leaving. The only thing to say is goodbye, Boba. I have to be at a Christmas party in a few hours, and I’ll be there until late. I can’t skip out on seeing my family, even to say goodbye to someone that I l-” No.

You stopped mid-sentence, mouth snapping shut. No. Even if that’s how I feel, that’s not something to tell anyone before I tell him. Your words hung in the air, and you knew that Boba wasn’t stupid. He likely knew exactly what you’d stopped yourself from saying. But it doesn’t matter.

“The two of you are a lot alike.” He laughed, swiping at the top of his head and looking up at you. “More than you know.”

“Yeah. We get along really well.” Shaking your head, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Will you tell him that I said goodbye? Can you give him a message for me?” You didn’t want to have Boba play middleman, but you knew that you had limited options. And I can’t just … not say anything. “I sent him a text last night but he didn’t respond, so I don’t … I don’t know if he’s done with me, or -”

“If he said that he’ll say goodbye, he’ll say goodbye.” Boba sighed deeply, massaging his forehead with three fingers. “He doesn’t say things that he doesn’t mean.” That’s a great quality for a king to have. “I’m sorry that you’re in the middle of this. We’ve been keeping an eye on Kryze for a while, but we didn’t think that any of this would come out early. I’ve been so careful, and Din leaving the country was supposed to…”

“Maybe there’s someone that you shouldn’t trust in your inner circle, then.” It was mean but you didn’t care, your tone biting. “She had to find out somehow, and that picture that you took down was just confirmation.”

“You’re probably right.” Boba stood, putting his hands on his hips. “Fennec and I will look into that when we get back to Mandalore.” Good. You do that. “I wish we’d gotten to meet under different circumstances. Din told us so much about you, and I was hoping that you’d come and visit Mandalore sometime so I could see for myself.”

“Maybe I can come out for his coronation.” Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. “Maybe he’ll have figured out what he wants to say by then.”

“You’d be my guest of honor on that day or any other day.” He reached out again, holding a hand above your shoulder until you nodded in recognition. After that, he settled it on your arm, eyeing you. “But I don’t think it’ll take that long for him to figure things out.” What’s that supposed to mean? “I should let you go and get dressed. You have places to be today.” Dressed? Shit.

It took until then for you to realize that you’d had the entire conversation in your bathrobe and with damp hair. If you’d been any less upset, it would have mortified you. He’s probably seen worse, but… this isn’t helping my case. “I do have places to be. That’s probably a good idea. Thank you, Boba.”

You walked with him to the front door, the man one step ahead of you. He stopped with one hand half extended, turning his head to look back at you. “Out of curiosity… your ex, what happened with him that led to you asking Din to be your partner?”

“Oh.” You curled your fingers toward your palm, taking a deep breath. “James, he … he didn’t want to stay in Mistletoe, and just expected me to go with him no matter where he wanted to go or when he wanted to leave.”

“You never plan on leaving?” He turned his body to face you, crossing his arms. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but -”

“No. I’d leave if the right opportunity came up.” Smiling, you shrugged. “But with James, it … it wasn’t the right one at all. He’d talk about moving and about new jobs and me going with him and finding something else, too, but that was it. Any time I mentioned more than just moving to a new city with him - a future together, getting engaged, making things more permanent? He laughed it off. He said that we weren’t there yet.”

“Ah.” Boba’s frown deepened, but he was nodding in agreement. “So you ended it?”

“I did. I wasn’t ready to marry him, and like I told Din, I didn’t need a commitment, I just wanted to know that it was a possibility. If he ever moved, it would have been for work, and if I’d gone with him and just hoped to find something, but didn’t? Or if something happened? I’d be screwed.”

“He would have asked you to leave everything you knew without any certainty?”

“Yes.” Swallowing, you nodded. “I think he thought that just asking should have been enough, but it wasn’t. Not for me.”

“And you went from that to Din, someone that you knew was leaving?”

“I didn’t know at first.” You rubbed at your face. “I didn’t know it until after I already cared about him, but when he told me it just … it made sense. It sucked, because I like him, but it made sense. And I just … I didn’t want to deny myself the opportunity to spend time with him, because we were having fun. And he seemed to be really -”

“Your team name is Clan Mudhorn?” For the competition?

“Yeah. Din picked it for the us because we didn’t have one.”

Boba didn’t reply right away, but after a few silent seconds, he smiled. “In Mandalore, we distinguish ourselves by our family histories.” He pointed at his chest, and for the first time, you saw a design in the material of his jacket that was only a few shades lighter than the rest of the material - circular in shape with what looked like wheat in the center, along with a droplet and some sort of lettering. I wouldn’t have noticed that. “This honors my family, even though I lost my father when I was young.”

“Oh.” Leaning in, you blinked slowly. “I wouldn’t have even seen that if you hadn’t pointed it out.”

“That’s the intent.” He smiled, twisting so that his left shoulder was entirely visible to you, and you noticed another symbol there, your mouth opening in a quiet gasp. I saw that in my dream, on the invitation. “This is a Mythosaur, and it is the universal symbol for Mandalorians.” But how would I have known what it was?

“Everyone has a unique one? All Mandalorian families, I mean?” He nodded. But what’s Din’s? Maybe I saw the Mythosaur, and - “So what’s -”

“That’s not for me to answer.” Boba’s smile grew, and he lowered his chin slightly without looking away from you. “I should get back, though. Fennec wasn’t happy with me coming alone, but when I reminded her that I am technically her boss…”

You had to laugh at that, grinning at the man as the sound tapered off. “Din’s told me about her, I wouldn’t want to be on her bad side … or have her coming after me because she thought that something happened to you while you’re in my house.”

“I might have become the Mand’alor a decade ago, but like I said last night, that doesn’t mean that I can’t take care of myself.” Boba’s smile grew, too, the man holding both of his hands out to you. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. I hope to return the favor in mine someday soon.”

“I’d like that, too.” Pausing, you took a deep breath. “Thank you for being so honest with me. You have no idea how much it means.”

“I think I do.” He pulled the door open all the way. “We’ll be in touch about our plan once we have one, so that you’re not caught off guard by anything that happens. Have a good holiday.”

“Have a safe trip back, Boba. Tell Fennec the same, please?” He assured you that he would, and then the man was walking out the door and toward the SUV - the same one that Fennec had been in the previous day - that was parked in your driveway.

You locked the door behind him and gave yourself a few seconds to collect your thoughts. I wasn’t expecting that at all. Nothing was .. he… they’re leaving tonight.

It hit you then in a way that it hadn’t while the man was present.

Within hours, Din would be gone - his house empty, the man on a plane and headed back to his home. And he knows I have plans tonight. He knows I won’t be here. He knows …

You hadn’t known Din for long, but you knew enough to understand that he wouldn’t ruin your holiday with your parents by showing up unannounced. Which means that unless he shows up here before I leave, it’s … it’s going to be a phone call. “He won’t come here.”

Speaking it out loud to your empty house, you knew that you were right. Din’s knowledge of Christmas was limited, but he understood the way you felt about it, and wouldn’t risk sending you into an emotional spiral before you had to head over to see your family. Unless he’s not going back with them. Unless Boba’s going to let him stay. Unless…

It was wishful thinking - and there was no way around it. Boba’s plan for Din to take over was still in place. He’d told you when they were leaving. He’d let you know that he and Din had spoken about you and what could happen. He’d softened the blow as much as he could - but it still wasn’t Din explaining things, and that didn’t sit well with you. But Boba said …

The memory of Boba’s promise - that if Din said he’d say goodbye, he would do it - motivated you to walk back down the hall and then up the stairs, heading for your room to finish getting ready.

—

“No, uncle Jess. I don’t need a refill.” Covering the top of your cup with one hand, you groaned. “Stop asking.” The man laughed, smoothly pivoting away from where you were sitting and moving toward your cousins, the pitcher of eggnog held in one hand.

It had been easier than you thought to push your emotions to the side and ignore the fact that Din hadn’t reached out. Your family’s celebration was as exciting as ever - the house filled with the sounds of laughter and cheer, the smells wafting from the kitchen reaching you even as you sat in the basement while everyone caught up with each other.

It was a good night, all things considered, and despite the fact that you checked your phone more than a few times, you were actually enjoying yourself.

But that changed after dinner - while your younger cousins and nieces and nephews were playing with the presents they’d opened, the adults gathering around the bar.

“So where’s that man you partnered with for the competition?” Aunt Carol - Jess’ wife - sipped from her third or fourth glass of wine, watching you over the rim of it. “Thought you might bring him tonight. You looked -”

“Carol.” Your uncle’s tone was sharp, the man’s head shaking quickly from side to side. “Don’t be rude. She just broke up with James a few months ago, bringing someone new to Chrisrmas is -”

“She could have brought him.” Another aunt spoke up, waving her hand through the air. “He’s really handsome. Your picture was in the paper, did you know that?”

You did. Cara had texted a photo of you and Din onstage, accepting the award to you earlier that afternoon, the only other contents of the message a bunch of exclamation points. If you’d seen it, you figured that Din and Boba had, too, but neither of them had reached out. So they must not care. They must not be trying to …

“Din’s got other plans tonight.” He’s packing up his stuff to go home. You sipped from your cup, the single drink you’d been nursing for almost an hour little more than melted ice cubes. “Some friends from home are in town, so he’s with them. He hasn’t seen them in a while, so…” You shrugged. “Sorry.” But mostly for myself.

“You won a vacation with him, right?” Your mother leaned in, her eyes on your face. “Will we get to meet him before you go on that?”

“It’s a weekend at a brewery, mom.” Finishing your drink, you set the cup down. “Not a vacation. And I’m not sure who’s going to use the other half of it, because -” Pausing, you gave yourself a few seconds to ensure that you weren’t going to speak faster than your thoughts, potentially giving anything away. “Din might have to leave for a while. There’s some stuff going on back where he’s from, and he needs to go and make sure it’s alright.”

You hadn’t outright told the truth, but you’d made a plausible excuse for Din’s coming absence. And if I didn’t know who Boba was before, Din becoming Mand’alor shouldn’t be a big deal to anyone here, and … “Is he in trouble?” Your father’s concern was apparent, the man frowning as he spoke. “Leaving suddenly?”

“Not trouble, no.” Forcing a smile, you held a hand up and shrugged. “Just family stuff he’s gotta handle.” It’s enough for now. It wouldn’t be when and if people came snooping and asking questions about how you knew the man, but you didn’t have to worry about any of it that night. Not til after the holidays. She promised. “Any other questions?”

Your mother laughed at that, and only a few minutes later, the conversation had shifted from you and Din to your older cousin’s husband, and you were able to slip away. I need a break.

Stepping outside and onto the front porch, you zipped up your coat and then sunk into one of the chairs, eyes on the street in front of you. The snow wasn’t heavy - just flurries - but it gave you something to look at as you zoned out, one gloved hand raised, fingers curled as you breathed into them.

You wondered what Din and Boba and Fennec were doing - if they were already on their plane, if the two of them were helping Din pack up his house, if he’d already quit his job and you’d go back after Christmas to find the position vacant and his desk cleared out. Does it matter?

It was a little after 10 when you checked your phone again, and you figured that was late enough, especially if you had to be back at your parents’ the following morning. I’ll say I have a headache and just go. They won’t question it.

And none of them did, even as you made your rounds and said goodbye, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and telling them that all you needed was a good night’s sleep before the following day. Because I do. I need to sleep, and …

You contemplated driving past Din’s place on your way home, but since he hadn’t answered your text, you opted not to. I can’t seem like that person. I won’t. So instead, you drove aimlessly around Mistletoe, the roads mainly empty as the hour grew later and the snow got a little heavier.

It shouldn’t have surprised you when you found yourself in the parking lot next to the massive tree, the colorful lights twinkling in the softly falling snow.

You hadn’t been there alone at night like usual, and even though you were upset, you were thankful that your subconscious had drawn you to the display. At least I’ll get to see it this year.

Getting out of the car and locking the door, you wandered slowly toward the tree, looking for anyone else on the plaza. But there wasn’t anyone. The footprints in the snow told you that a lot of people had been there earlier, but the hour meant that anyone with kids already had them home and in bed - and that the people that wanted to see the tree with a smaller crowd had gotten their pictures for social media and were home, too.

You snapped a picture and then sat on a bench facing the tree, sticking both hands in your pockets. As the silence surrounded you, you let yourself think back to the previous night and the final few minutes you’d spent with Din.

—

“Are you alright?” He waited until Boba and Fennec shut the door to the bedroom behind them to speak, his eyes locked on yours. “That was - “

“I’m OK, Din.” And you were, for the most part. “I wasn’t expecting her to say any of that, but … I can’t say that it’s a shock.”

“She had no right to threaten you.” He curled his lip, the man’s cheek twitching in anger. “No right to -”

“It��s all she could do, Din. And you know what? It’s a good play. Because she’s either going to get what she wants because Boba won’t want to ruin his reputation, or she’s going to get what she hopes for because the people of Mandalore don’t trust you.”

He didn’t reply for a few seconds, but when he did, he started by saying your name, standing and holding his hands out to you. “I’m not going to let her do this. She doesn’t get to -”

“Din.” You let him pull you to your feet, hyper-aware of the way his fingers felt between yours. “She just did. We weren’t careful enough, and now … now we have to deal with what happens. You were always going to become Mand’alor. Now it’s just … the stakes are a little different.”

“There has to be something.” He tugged you closer, letting go of your hands and then wrapping his arms around your body. “A way to keep her from -”

“Whatever happens next isn’t just about you figuring it out.” You held him close, cheek pressed against his chest with your eyes closed. Remember this. Remember how it feels.. “You’re going to have help from them.”

You meant Boba and Fennec - and all of the other royal advisors - and Din knew it. “We will have help.” He sighed. “Probably too much help, and -”

“There’s no such thing as too much help.” Both of you turned your attention to the doorway, where Boba was standing with his arms crossed. “And these next few weeks will prove it.” The man stepped back into the room, his eyes sweeping from Din to you. “I’m going to have Fennec take you home now. Din and I need to talk.”

“No, I drove her here, I -”

“Din.” Speaking quietly, you pressed your hand to the center of his chest, your other one rising so that you could gently touch his cheek. “It’s alright.” The look in his eyes told you he didn’t agree, but you forced a half smile and watched as his eyes closed in resignation. “You need to talk to your friend. The two of you need to have a conversation, and neither Fennec or I need to be here for it.”

“She isn’t wrong, Din.” Fennec finally spoke, the woman’s posture rigid as she shifted on her feet. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely. You have my word.”

Din’s jaw locked as he attempted to stay quiet, but after a few seconds, he finally relaxed, shoulders dropping as he released a breath. “Can I have a minute to say goodbye at least? Can we have the room?”

“No.” You interrupted, tilting your head and rising enough to press your lips to his cheek. “Because this isn’t goodbye. It’s goodnight.” Stepping away from him, you reached for your jacket, slipping it back on and zipping it without looking back at the man. “Please take me home, Fennec.”

Din was quiet until you reached the door, the woman a half-step behind you - and then he called out again. When you looked back you saw uncertainty in his eyes but he didn’t let it stop him from speaking, one large hand rising to grip the back of his neck. “I’ll talk to you later. I promise.”

“Yeah?” He nodded, a brief smile appearing on his lips. “I’ll keep my phone on.”

—

You hoped that that moment wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw him in person; the man’s sad eyes following every move as you finished the walk to the door and then through it. He nodded briefly when you looked back at him, but hadn’t moved otherwise.

You hadn’t expected him to, because you knew that he’d been reeling from the fast-paced evolution of the situation. But as you tilted your head back and looked up at the dark sky, you wondered just how upset he’d been.

They’ll come up with something. Even if they have to tell the Mandalorians about me, they’ll … they’ll make it work. Din and Boba will… Refocusing on the tree, you reached down to grip the edge of the bench, the wood creaking slightly under your touch. Fuck this sucks.

You gave yourself a few more minutes of staring at the decorated tree and then you closed your eyes, inhaling and holding your breath. Ok. Go home and get some sleep, and then tomorrow, you -

At the sound of a quiet jangle of metal, you opened your eyes again, looking around. What was that? It sounded like keys. The space was still empty, though, large, fluffy flakes swirling around you and the tree, the entire plaza cast in a glow that on any other night would have been comforting. But not tonight, Not entirely.

The sound came again, though it was louder. That time you stood, stepping toward it - and gasping in surprise when a dog appeared from the other side of the tree, leash dragging on the ground behind it. But that’s not just a dog. It’s… “Grogu?” You dropped to a knee, the dog closing the space between you as you reached for him, taking the leash in hand and winding it tightly around your fist. “Grogu, what are you doing here, buddy? We’ve gotta get you back to your dad.”

He rose onto his hind legs, both of his front ones on your thigh. The dog licked at your face, and despite your mood, you laughed, ducking your head to kiss the top of his. At least I get to say goodbye to you. As you scratched at his fur, your hand made contact with something cool and metallic, and you backed off enough to look down as you twisted his collar to bring it into view. That’s where I saw it. The Mythosaur. He’s got it hanging from the clip ring, and …

It all made sense. You’d never registered what the pendant was, but on some level you’d memorized the sight of it, and it had bled into your dreams. Well, I figured that out. You gave his ears one more scratch and then sighed, wetting your lips. “Alright, pal. Let’s get you back home. Hopefully Din’s still there and -”

“I’m right here.” You shot to your feet and even Grogu turned, yipping happily at the sound of the man’s voice, but didn’t move from his position by your feet. Din? But it’s… Din took a few steps closer to you, though he stopped with some distance left, and you hated the look of worry on his face, his full lips turned down and into a frown.

He had both hands stuffed into his pockets, and after he glanced down at Grogu, it was you that he focused on, his dark eyes bright. “You’re still… But Boba said…”

“I’m still here.” Din moved even closer, leaving only a few feet between you. “And we need to talk.”

—

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