#but today the guy repeated it back to me correctly while the monitor still had the default

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

.

[joon-ipersgirl]

O5 - “the coveted client”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district's hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total.

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: hello friends. here is part 5. leave a comment on how you're feeling about this story. i'm debating on discontinuing it from tumblr. thank you vi for reading as always. enjoy everyone :)

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Training tonight @ 6pm. Don’t be late. You read the incoming text with a grin. Even in text, Suga is straight to the point. Shoving your phone back into your pants pocket, you leave the small kitchenette and head back to your small desk with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. You can still remember the looks of horror on the boys’ faces after Suga announced your immediate hire and it’s been two weeks since then. Was it wrong to take pleasure in their discomfort? Probably. Would you stop? Never.

“Is that a smile I spy on Miss Y/N Y/L/N’s face? The Devil must be here to collect his wife,” Paul exclaims as you sit back down. You laugh and prop your chin on your hand as you stare at him over your desktop screen.

“Can a woman not just be happy, Paul? Why does it have to come at the expense of a man?” you ask, a fake feign of hurt in your voice.

“Of course women can. Just not you,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. You shake your head, your smile still present on your face. Paul would not ruin your good mood.

“Ouch. That one might have hurt if I actually gave a fuck about your opinion of me,” you say while reorganizing the folders Manager Kim had dropped onto your desk from the day before.

“Y/N! Language!” Laura chides as she walks into your cramped office space. You roll your eyes and flip through the countless papers on your desk to order them in order of priority.

It’s honestly a miracle that none of you manage to murder each other while you work though it’s crossed your mind several times. JM Events and Affairs is a lucrative event planning company, but apparently could not afford to at least place its clerks in a room larger than 500 sq ft. Being entry level is a struggle most days, but eventually it would all pay off and you would become a successful event planning guru. For now though, you’re stuck here with the imbeciles you had to call co-workers.

“Manager Kim wants to see us in her office,” James says as he pokes his head around the wall of the cubicle, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. “Now,” he emphasised. He doesn’t wait for you to follow.

Paul shoots you and Laura a raised brow of confusion as you grab your notepads and file down the long corridor to Manager Kim’s well decorated office. She’s an older woman who’s been in the business longer than you’ve been alive. She credits her success to always staying ahead of the trend even if she didn’t create it, though most times she did. Her style is impeccable and she is meticulous as she is jovial. She’s, quite simply, a genius.

James has already taken a seat in one of the two plush grey chairs in front of her large, industrial sized desk. Rows of colorful binders are organized on her desk - no doubt detailing the new events the company is planning on hosting. Manager Kim enjoys the arts and it’s evident from the variety of paintings that hang on the wall. Today, she’s dressed in a powder blue knit sweater that matches whatever shade of nail polish she wears tucked into a pair of belted, high waisted wide leg pants. Her matching steel toe boots peek from underneath.

“Ah, good. You’re all here,” she begins as she sits behind her desk. You gesture for Laura to take the other available seat as you stand behind James and Paul stands next to you.

“We have a new client considering the company for an event. He’s very important for future networking opportunities so I expect the very best work from you.” Manger Kim usually wasted no time getting straight to the point and today is no different. “In fact, I’ve been monitoring your work very closely because I knew a client like this would be coming very soon,” she stands from her desk, navy blue binder in hand.

“What kind of event is he planning on having?” James inquires, his pen ready to take notes.

“He didn’t give specific details, but I’m sure if we can book him for this minor event, he’ll give us the main one. I’m quite sure of it.” Manager Kim snaps the binder shut and smiles at you all. Her white blonde bob is immaculate, not a single strand out of place.

“Should we start drafting ideas now?” Laura asks.

“Yes, I need several drafts from each of you by 4pm this afternoon. Please have them -”

“Are we just supposed to forget about the other events we have coming up? This guy didn’t even give us any major details for effective planning!” Paul interrupts. Manager Kim turns to look at him.

“Well Paul, if this client is of no importance to you -” Paul tries to backtrack, but to no avail as Manager Kim continues on “- I will not need your drafts or your portfolio.” She beams at him and Paul blanches. You grimace.

“As I was saying. Please have your portfolios and 4 drafts submitted to me by 4pm today. They should be in priority order and include everything from food to colors, entertainment and venues. Remember, the customers knows best -”

“- but finesse, finesse, finesse,” you, Paul, James, and Laura finish. Manager Kim should have that framed and put on her wall.

“Lovely. Goodbye,” she waves no longer looking at you, already lost in her grueling event editing process. You knew better than to loiter and the four of you head back to your small workspace.

“You really fucked up there Paul,” you say as you sit down at your desk.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Paul deadpans. He drops his head quite heavily on his desk. Laura winces.

“It’s okay, Paul. Maybe you can still show her something and -” she starts.

“You know Manager Kim isn’t the forgiving kind,” James interrupts. “There’s nothing more he can do,” he finishes nonchalantly.

“I hate to agree -” you begin.

“No you don’t,” Paul cuts in.

“- but James is right. Manager Kim is all about quick thinking and Paul failed that test. He’ll have another time to redeem himself, but he has to sit this one out. You should be happy, Laura. Less competition,” you say with a shrug and flip open your notepad to start drafting.

“Do you even have an empathetic bone in your body, Y/N?!” Laura hisses as she walks over to rest a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

“Sometimes,” you reply. “But everyone has to eat and I refuse to go to sleep on an empty stomach.”

Laura looks disgusted at your answer and she goes back to consoling Paul. James had left the conversation a long time ago and you admired his ability to ignore almost everyone around him. His coldness and detachment made him ruthless in an unsuspecting way and you’d learned the hard way not to underestimate him. Laura would learn eventually that while people thought it was the strong who survived, it was really those who were able to adapt to any environment that really thrived.

It’s after lunch that you receive an email from Manager Kim requesting for you to meet her in the lobby in fifteen minutes without any further explanation. You ask no questions and sit in the lobby, counting the people that come out of the elevator that were not Manager Kim. It’s already 1:24 pm and you’ve just started your third draft. Creating on a time crunch with no real guidance is no walk in the park and you try to keep your frustrations under control as you run through possible color combinations for the event.

“Y/N! There you are! Let’s go,” Manager Kim calls as she exits the building without checking to see if you follow.

You scramble to grab your purse and notepad, scurrying across the lobby in the high heels she insists you wear. Manager Kim is already seated in a company car as you yank the passenger side door open and fall into the seat.

“Very good,” she says and wastes no time pulling into traffic. You awkwardly try to secure your seatbelt as she zips through the small spaces between cars. Gods protect you from this woman and her hazardous driving.

“Where are we going?” you ask after you manage to situate your purse, coat, and notepad in your lap comfortably.

“Downtown. We’re meeting with the client.”

“We?!” you repeat, surprised.

“That’s what I said isn’t it? We’re also late,” she says as she makes a sharp right turn onto Matthews St. You barely miss hitting a cyclist and you send up another small prayer for you to make it to your destination safely.

“What about the drafts and portfolios? Aren’t you going to review -”

“Did I say I wasn’t?” She glances over at you from the corner of her eye and you close your mouth. You would not fail this test.

Manager Kim pulls over into an impossibly tight space in front of a large corporate building that reads Hastings and Lewis. A well established law firm if you remember correctly. It has to be at least 14 stories high and exudes the architect’s vision of simple modern design with large windows and exposed steel structural support. You both exit the car and you align your steps with hers, your heels clicking in time against the marble flooring as you enter the building. You say good afternoon to the doorman who simply nods at you in greeting.

“Hello. How can I help you?” the receptionist asks behind the raised desk, her head barely visible.

“Yes, hello. My name is Madeline Kim. I have an appointment to speak with Mr. Cavallero at 2:15pm.” You glance at the clock behind the receptionist. 1:53pm. You bite your lip to hold your outburst. To be early is to be on time, you could hear her say.

The receptionist smiles and nods as she searches her computer for the appointment. “Yes, here it is. Please have a seat. Someone will come and get you shortly.”

Manager Kim nods and perches in one of the available seats. You shake your head as you take a seat next to her, ignoring the itching in your palm to pull out your notepad and finish your drafts. You can tell by the way Manager Kim is sitting, not scrolling through her various binders or the calendar on her phone, this is a formal interview and you would not be the one to fuck it up. There would be time to finish the drafts. You would make sure of it.

“Ms. Kim?” A young man in a sharp, black suit stands in the center of the room smiling at you. 2:05pm. Right on time. “If you could follow me this way, please.” He turns towards the golden elevators and you follow behind him. “My name is Lewis Carlisle and I am the assistant to Mr. Cavallero,” he tells you as he pushes the button for the 10th floor. He sticks his hand out for each of you to shake.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Carlisle. Thank you for having us. This is my assistant, Ms. Amani Jung.” A lie, but you go with it.

“A pleasure to meet you,” you say with a bright smile and a firm handshake. He returns a smile of his own.

The elevator doors open and you follow Mr. Carlisle through the open workspace plan. This is the kind of place that promoted collaboration and teamwork. How could it not when the light airy feeling made you want to turn to your neighbor and ask them what they thought about a particular problem? JM Events and Affairs should have hired their interior designer. Maybe some of their employees wouldn’t struggle as much to meet their deadlines.

“Mr. Cavellero unfortunately will not be able to meet with you in person today -” Manager Kim’s smile tightens at his words “- but he did relay all of his expectations for the company brunch,” Lewis says as he holds open the door to a small meeting room. It’s in the center of the floor and the walls are made of pure plexiglass. It screamed expensive.

“How wonderful,” Manager Kim comments as she sits down and sets her purse down on the ground.

“Would either of you like something to drink? Water? A Coke?”

“ A water with light ice will do, thank you,” she says.

“I’ll take a bottle of water, please,” you reply and sit down beside Madeline. You discreetly pull out your design notepad along with your actual note-taking pad. Lewis nods and promises to return quickly with your drinks as well as the file containing the event details.

“You seem upset,” you comment while scribbling down the words brunch and law firm onto a new blank sheet for your fourth and final draft, your brain already conjuring up ideas.

“What makes you think that?” she asks, turning to you slightly as she too sets up her own note-taking station.

“Your smile failed to meet your eyes,” you say nonchalantly. From the corner of your eye, you see her break into a grin as Lewis enters the room, a cup of water in one hand, a bottle in the other, and a slim manilla folder tucked underneath his arm.

“Thank you again, Mr. Carlisle,” Manager Kim says with another bright smile, her hand in his as they shake hands again.

“You’re very welcome. I’m sure Mr. Cavallero will love what you put together for brunch,” he replies.

The meeting seems to be a success and you’d gained some much needed insight for your fourth draft while being Madeline’s “assistant”. You’re no longer paying attention as you exit the meeting room and head back towards the main elevator, Madeline and Lewis making polite conversation. You run over all of your drafts as you check the time discreetly. It’s 3:20pm. You would still have enough time to review your plans and work on the others files Manager Kim had assigned. You grin in victory.

“Mr. Cavallero!” Lewis exclaims as the elevator doors open.

The man is an older gentleman with neatly groomed hair and warm brown eyes. His coal grey suit is neatly pressed, a sharp crease present in the center of his pant leg. Definitely high quality and only dry-cleaned. His smile displays a set of perfect of white teeth. As he steps out of the elevator, holding it open so it wouldn’t close, the Armani Exchange watch glitters under the artificial lights.

“Mr. Carlisle. I assume this must be our event coordinators. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet with you. An emergency meeting was called for a major case,” he apologizes.

“I understand, Mr. Cavallero. Things are sometimes out of our control. No need to explain,” Madeline says with a smile as she enters the elevator. You follow behind her. “Mr. Carlisle was quite capable. I will have Miss Y/L/N send over the final details for the event by Friday for your approval.”

Mr. Cavallero’s eyes shift over to you and he smiles. “I look forward to it. Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies.” He let the doors go as Lewis tells you goodbye, the doors closing off the last of his words.

Manager Kim’s shoulders visibly relax as you descend to the lobby, but you make no comment. Though their conversation was brief, something had clearly transpired between them. Madeline seems to have noticed you watching her as she inhales and fixes her posture. She was back to business.

“I assume I don’t have to tell you not to say anything about this meeting?” she asks as she nods her thanks to the doorman, your steps once more in sync as you exit the high rise building.

“What meeting?” You say with a grin as you wait for her to unlock the company car.

The heat of the staircase in Spiral welcomes you again like a familiar friend after not seeing them for a long time. There is still the hustle and bustle of vendors dropping off boxes as the final details of the new designs are being put into place. People couldn’t wait to see how Spiral had fared after the robbery - which you still didn’t believe was actually what happened - and it seems like Friday’s opening night couldn’t come soon enough. Even Paul and Laura were considering stopping by after all of the shit they talked before.

You enter the main space and glance around, looking for one of the boys. Your purse bag is heavy from the event files and you head over to set it on top of the bar while resting your aching feet. Paul, Laura, and James could not believe you’d managed to turn in your drafts and portfolio at exactly 3:57pm after being gone so long; they would eventually learn to not underestimate you. You glance around again and notice a group of people sitting in one of the newly upholstered booths quietly chatting to one another across the way. Were these the new employees?

“Already lounging on the first day of the job, Y/L/N?”

You look to your left as you shrug off your heavy overcoat and see Honcho coming around the bar, a pile of clothes in his hands.

“Of course not. I just wasn’t sure who to report to,” you say with a shrug.

“Well, you’re looking at him,” he replies with a grin. You have to stop your mouth from falling open. Of all people, it had to be him? “What? Are you disappointed?” he asks as he continues across the room to the small group. You grab your stuff and walk over after him.

“No, I just thought -”

“Thought it would be Suga? As much as you like to charge in and demand shit sweetheart, Suga is a very busy man and doesn’t have the time to appease you all the time. Sit,” he commands with a jerk of his head. You narrow your eyes at him, but obey. It’s only then that you notice the other five persons staring at you in confusion as you bickered. You swallow the urge to huff in annoyance as Honcho begins speaking.

“Thank you all for being on time. Congratulations on being hired. I’m Honcho and I’ll be your manager at Spiral. You’ll meet the rest of the guys later. These are your uniforms. We have a strict adherence uniform policy, so please do your best to be dressed in your proper attire. If you have long hair, it will be tied up or back in a bun or ponytail. Ladies, we ask that you wear red lipstick to match our colors. We’ve also given you options for bottoms: a skirt or pants.” Honcho holds up a pair of each for demonstration. “Whatever you decide to wear is up to you. We only ask that all your shoes are closed toed and we would prefer no sneakers; we’re trying to sell a vibe here. Any questions?” He doesn’t wait for anyone to speak up. “No? Great. If you could introduce yourselves to each other, that’d be fantastic.” He looks over to the boy on the other side of the booth.

“Uh, hi. My name is Micah. I’m 21 and recently graduated from college.” He tosses up a small wave before pushing his glasses further up his nose. He’s narrow shouldered and naturally blonde. Cute, if you will. They would chew him up and eat him alive if he continued to be so timid.

“Hey, I’m Luca. I’m 23 and a graduate student at Oberman.” Luca definitely fit the vibe Spiral os going for with his dark hair and dark eyes. He would have no problem wooing the numerous women who would walk through the door. A great business move in your opinion.

“Hey y’all, Savannah here. I’m 22 and working part time while in school.” Another blonde hair, blue-eyed coworker. How fun. The bubbles in champagne had nothing on her as she beams at the rest of you around the table.

“I’m Jack. I’m 24 and I guess I’m here to save up for a new car? Need some extra cash,” he finishes with a bashful grin. The girl next to you snorts. Jack is a big man with broad shoulders and you would assume he was hired as additional security based on his size. Imagine a man as big as him bringing over your strawberry mojito? Exactly.

“Giselle. 21. Law student. Loans have to pay themself off somehow right?” Luca laughs and Giselle smiles. Yuck. If you weren’t already sick of the office romance - if you could call it that - between Laura and Paul at JM, you were going to have to endure another one here? Gods be with you.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m 22 and an event planner,” you say nonchalantly and turn to Honcho, waiting for his next instructions.

“Not going to tell us the reason you’re here?” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I’d like a lot of things, Y/L/N. In fact, I can think of a few -”

“Gross,” you say, interrupting him, your face turned down in disgust. He laughs.

“Always think someone wants something from you, huh?” He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Everyone, go get changed and I’ll explain your duties to you once you get back.”

The six of you ease out of the booth, grabbing your uniforms as you head to the restrooms to get changed. As you follow Savannah and Giselle, you can’t help but scan the hallway for anything you could have missed as the memory of your second night here flashed across your mind. There had to be something that you were missing.

“I hope these uniforms are cute,” Giselle grumbles as she steps into an empty stall.

“I’m sure it’ll look great,” Savannah chirps.

You step into your own individual stall and drop your stuff on the floor. Slipping out of your heels, you step out of your slacks and tug off your blouse. You hold up the uniform shirt. It’s a plain black t-shirt with the letters in red spelling out Spiral in a spiral formation. The pants are made of a faux leather shiny material. They look tight and the sides have cut outs with strings laced in them from hip to ankle. The skirt is exactly the same. You sigh. This was really the vibe?

You dress quickly and tug on your Doc Martens. Honcho would have to wait for the lipstick. Exiting the stall, you see Savannah trying to adjust the strings on her pants while chewing her lip.

“Is it supposed to be this exposed?” she asks, checking herself out in the mirror.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Giselle says exiting the stall and tugging down the hem of her skirt.

“So much for equality in the workplace huh?” you say. The two of them laugh.

The three of you return to the main space, Micah, Luca, and Jack already back at the booth with Honcho. Their eyes widen when they see you.

“Looking good ladies,” Honcho calls with his traditional large grin. Of course he would comment.

“Yeah, yeah. What’s next?” Giselle asks as she wiggles her way back into the booth, trying to cover her modesty.

“We’re going to take a tour of the facilities, get you acquainted with the space, and fill out the last pieces of paperwork. We’ll also have you help with some of the decorations; don’t worry, you’re going to get paid for this session. Then, we’ll see you on Friday for your shifts,” he replies. “Alright, let’s go.”

Again, he doesn’t wait for you to follow. As you’re setting your belongings down to catch up with the rest of the group, you spot Jin heading towards the bar. Just the man who you needed to see.

“Are you coming Y/N?” Savannah calls to you as the group heads up to the second level.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there!” you lie, knowing damn well you’re going to ambush Jin. You pretend to search for something in your purse as you double-check the group is far enough on the second level to not notice you not following before you head over to Jin.

“Well hello Jin,” you say as you wiggle your way onto a bar stool.

“Y/N,” he says with a chuckle. “What can I do for you?”

“Just answer a few simple questions.” you smile as you rest your chin on your palm.

“Alright,” he replied skeptically.

“Where’d you move the body?” The bottle of Aperol nearly slips out of his grip as he turns to look at you.

“Excuse me?” There’s no laughter in his voice.

“The body of the man in the bathroom,” you clarify. “How’d you get it to disappear like that?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, busying himself with stocking up the bottles of alcohol under the shelf. He won’t meet your eyes. You know he’s lying; his body language says it all.

“Oh come on, Jin. You can tell me. It’s not like I’m going to go to the cops or anything,” you say nonchalantly. “Clearly they didn’t seem to care since they weren’t that thorough with their questions.”

“Y/N, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. You were concussed remember? Maybe you imagined whoever you’re talking about.” He glances up at you. You roll your eyes.

“Really Jin? You’re going to use the concussion line on me? You knew that I shot him; I told you that. I just want to know where you put him and why there were no reports of a missing man from the incident on the news at all,” you say with a shrug. He finally turns to face you.

“Maybe nobody reported him missing. Maybe he slipped out after you ducked behind the bar. What does it matter? Look, it was a traumatic night. For all of us. I don’t know anything about whatever or whoever you’re talking about. Hell, you probably don’t know either. Please, don’t make this working relationship anymore difficult for yourself than it already is. Just come in, keep your head down, and head out.” His hands are splayed out on the bar and the distance between you has closed significantly from when he’d started talking as he stares you down. “Worry about the things that concern you, like repaying your debt.” His tone is sharp and final. There’s no friendliness in his face either.

“Y/L/N! You’re not getting paid to sit on that pretty little ass of yours. Get up here now!” Honcho yelles down to you over the railing of the second floor balcony.

Ignoring Honcho, you cock your head and look at Jin again, thinking. “Okay Jin. Heard you loud and clear.”

You hop off the bar stool and adjust your skirt. You say nothing further as you head upstairs. It seems as though Jin would be of no help to you, but honestly, it didn’t matter. If it didn’t concern you, why was Jin lying about knowing what man you were talking about? Why had Suga tried to discreetly cover up that paper in his office the other day? What was really going on at Spiral? You’re determined to figure it, even if you have to work extra hours to do it. What happens in the dark must eventually come to light.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[scaredofthebasement-blog]

When Love Walks In - Chpt 16

Chpt 16

(2nd Edit July 30, 2019)

Auston Makes a Calculated Move to Get Close to Dr Quinn

2450 Words

Warning:  Cursing

Dr Wright touches Dr Quinn’s arm affectionately and they both proceed to move through Auston’s doorway into the room.

“There’s our star patient, breathing with his new tube in!  You did great in surgery today, Auston.  I was just telling Dr Quinn that everything went well.  How does the new tube feel?” Dr Wright announces.

Auston gives a thumbs up.

“Great!”  Dr Wright reminds Auston that the holes in the tube allow air to pass from the lungs up through the vocal cords and out through the mouth and nose, allowing breathing through the mouth.

“So Julie showed you the exercises and technique for breathing?”  Dr Wright asks.  

Auston shakes his head - yes.

“Do you have any questions or concerns about the new tube?”  Dr Wright continues.

Auston shakes his head - no.

Dr Wright goes on, “After you’ve used this tube for five days, if everything goes well, the next step is Corking, which will allow you to breathe fully on your own, solely through your mouth and nose, instead of your throat.”

Auston’s growing impatient.  Okay!  Dr Wright, I think you’re great but can you move along now?  Holy fuck! I’ve waited all bloody week to see her, and she’ll probably have to go in a minute.  Give me some god damn alone time!  Auston is freaking inside.

Dr Wright continues, “And you may recall that Dr Quinn will be giving you the go-ahead to try to speak at that point, and then you’ll get to go home!”  

That’s fucking music to my fucking ears, Doc!  He screams to himself, feeling punchy.  A combination of not enough sleep, nerves and desperation, he figures.

“Auston.  I’m sorry, I missed your procedure”, Dr Quinn says as she steps closer to him at his bedside.

You’re forgiven, Auston says to himself as he catches his breath, smiles and nods, appreciating her body and essence up close; while acknowledging her apology.  

Sweetheart, if only you knew; you could do anything, and I would forgive you.

Dr Quinn continues playfully, “Have you noticed something missing from your room?  One of your best friends is gone.”

Huh?  Auston looks around wondering who she’s talking about.

“Your heart monitor is gone! Bet you’re glad to say goodbye to that noisy thing eh?”

Oh, Sunshine, you have no idea...and thank god for that sweet mercy.

“Also, no Ventilator!  You did it, Auston!  You’re getting there.  Slow and steady, right?”  Dr Quinn is upbeat.  She is really happy for Auston.  She looks to gauge his reaction.  

Auston is distracted. Taking advantage of the heart monitor being gone, he looks to find clues to see if Dr Quinn is in love with Dr Peters.  He starts scanning her body.

While the two doctors take a moment to talk amongst themselves, Auston begins running an internal dialogue with himself:  No visible hickeys.  No obvious swollen lips.  No mussed up hair…well, I’m sure she would have showered after.  No scuff marks on her face from Dr McDreamy’s stubble.  Didn’t notice an uncomfortable walk.  Hard to tell.  Does she seem ‘over the moon’?  Shit!  I don’t know!

“Auston?”  Alex calls to get his attention.  She’s wearing a grin as she’s been watching him.  She has to chuckle to herself, for her brother is gone and she finds it both adorable and hilarious.

Auston snaps out of his covert mission.

Huh?  He looks at Alex.  He sees that she’s caught him.  He rolls his eyes at her ‘know-it-all’ smirk.

“Dr Wright just said she needs to leave”, she tells him.

“Yes, Auston, if you’re alright and you don’t have any questions, I will leave you as I have another procedure to perform”, she advises.

Auston gives Dr Wright the thumbs up and mouths, thank you.

“Your most welcome, Auston. If anything comes up that you would like to discuss, please know that both myself and Dr Quinn are here for you. I’ll be following up with you tomorrow”, She says, smiling as she bids farewell to the group and leaves the room.

Just then, Dr Quinn grabs a chair and pulls it closer to Auston’s left-hand bedside.  

Alex takes that as her cue and makes an excuse that she needs to run an errand and will be back in about an hour or so.

They are together now. Alone.

Finally!  Auston is relieved and excited.  Here we go!

“So Auston, how are you doing?”  Dr Quinn asks.

What do I say?  He wonders to himself.

“Auston?”  Dr Quinn repeats.

“Sorry, what?”  He writes.

“How are you doing?” She asks with genuine concern.

“Just peachy”, he writes to be sarcastic.  He’s forgiven her but he can’t forget what she put him through this past week.

“You?”  He adds.

“Ha! Peachy, Auston. Such a kidder.  Me, I’ve been busy, but pretty good”, She tells him.

Auston has to smile at her reply.  But he isn’t about to dabble in small talk after spending a week thinking on her ‘Dr Peters’ situation.  

“How was your date?” He gets right to it.

“Uhm, good.  You’ll be happy to know that I now have a life.”  She says with a nervous giggle.

Auston is crushed.  He feels as if his heart has just been stomped on. He is sure it is the most devastating news he has ever received.  His heart sinks.

“Glad to hear.”  He lies.  He can’t even bring himself to fake a smile.

“Everything okay, Auston?”

“Yup.  I’m living the life.”  He writes, again sarcastically.

She tries to cheer him, “Auston, your big day is coming soon.  You’re going home soon and we’ll get to hear that voice of yours.”

“Yeah, voice probably won’t work”, He writes.

“Well, that’s the spirit, Auston!”  She jokes. “I for one, personally can’t wait for that day.”

Auston is morose.

Dr Quinn feels uncomfortable and concerned.  She knows Auston is struggling with his emotions, but she senses that he’s upset with her.

“Oh, I heard your parents went home to Arizona.”  She changes the subject.

“Yes.  They’ve been gone for a few days now.”  He writes.

You’d know that if you came around this week, He wants to say.

“I see.  How have you been doing with everything?  I mean, emotionally?”  She asks.

“Not good”, he writes matter-of-factly.  He wishes he could tell her just how devastating her dating news and lack of visits have been to him.

“What made you so busy this week?”  He tries to delve.

“Oh, I had a Medical Conference away from the hospital.”

“And…? He prompts her. “You went out with that doctor a few times?”  He writes.  He can’t help himself.

“Yes, we went out a few times.”  She answers uncomfortably.

All Auston can think about is that Dr Dude taking her to bed.  No!  I want to be the one that takes you to bed!  I need to make you feel my love.

“He treated you well? You like him?”  He dares to ask.

“Yeah, pretty good.  Yeah.”  Her answers are vague.  She’s uncomfortable.

Auston’s confused and a bit concerned about her ‘pretty good’ comment to the question about whether the guy treated her well and would like to go down that Rabbit Hole but Dr Quinn quickly changes the subject.

“But enough about me, let’s talk about you, Auston Matthews, my patient”, she says to remind them both where their focus needs to stay.

Auston knows he shouldn’t be peppering Dr Quinn with questions about her dating life or she’s going to catch on or get annoyed with him.  He doesn’t want either of those things.  Although she’s shutting him down on the subject, the answers she has given him make him a little confused, concerned and want to throw up.  It will kill him, but he knows he needs to stop asking.  He’ll have to take a different approach.

He has an idea:  

By now, I think I know her heart and how she thinks, what her guiding principles are; what drives her. I’ll turn them in my favour to get where I need this to go.

It’s Dr Quinn’s objective to get Auston talking about his mental health.  She feels uncomfortable discussing her love life with him and regrets letting him know such personal information.  She knows it’s unprofessional, but deep down it’s even more than that; something that she won’t allow herself to acknowledge. Instead, she tells herself that Auston only asks about her dating life because he’s bored and doesn’t want to see her get hurt because she’s his doctor.  

She stands up and walks over to the plant on the window ledge.  She picks it up.  “Nice Cactus eh Auston?”  She smiles.

“Yes, some sweet person gave that to me.” He writes.

Dr Quinn can’t control her blush.  “Well, thank you, Auston.”  

Auston plays, “Yeah, I believe it was Nurse, Julie, who gave it to me if I remember correctly.”  He writes, trying to mess with her.

Instantly, Dr Quinn feels uneasy.  She’s sure he’s just messing with her, but surprisingly, reading that he wrote, Julie is ‘sweet’ and is giving another woman credit for something she did, to be nice to him, makes her defensive.

She dismisses her feelings as silly but still can’t help herself, “Oh, really?  Well, be sure to tell her that she has great taste.”  

Without backing down from his ploy he quickly writes, “I will.”

She still can’t leave it alone.  “Funny though, I seem to recall it was me who gave you a cactus just last week, and it looks an awful lot like this one with the blue ribbon.  It’s got the Go Leafs Go blue and all.”

Ha!  Auston knows he got her.  He just proved that she needs for him to know she cares about him.  That’s all the incentive he needs.  “Well, whoever gave it to me, it’s my most coveted award.  Stanley has nothing on that baby cactus”, He writes with a smirk.

“Oh, really?  And why is that?”  She says smiling, hopeful he will say it’s because she gave it to him, but scolds herself for wanting that.

He would love to tell her it’s because of who gave it to him.  But he knows better, so instead, he writes, “Because of what it stands for.”

She is surprised that she finds herself a little disappointed by his answer but brushes the feeling aside and reminds herself what’s most important.

She gets back on track. “And what does it stand for, Auston?”

“Getting off the Ventilator. Getting out of ICU”, He writes.

“Right!  And now look at you breathing through your mouth and nose! In five more days you’ll be able to try speaking, and you’ll be going home!  How do you feel about that?”

He wants to say, afraid that I won’t get to see you much after I leave. But instead, he writes, “Excited but also nervous about how my voice is going to sound.  Afraid you won’t be able to restore it.”

“Well, how about we make a deal that we cross that bridge when we get there?  Plus you know you won’t be alone Auston.  Remember I promised you that I will do my best to fix you?  Like I told you before, I’m with you every step of the way.  Auston, you know that right?”

“Really?”  He questions, knowing what he’s doing.

Dr Quinn is taken aback by his question, “Of course, Auston!   Remember we made a deal?  You’re not alone in this.  We’re a team. I’m right beside you through this.  I’ll try to help you as best I can.  I promised you that.”

She looks at Auston for confirmation that he was mistaken to question that she’d be there for him. Auston stares ahead with a blank face waiting. It’s killing him to make her feel like he doesn’t trust her when the opposite is true.

She starts panicking inside. What the hell?  Why is he not saying he’s just messing with me?  Surely he trusts me?

She hesitates but needs to confront him. “Auston, you don’t believe me?”  Her voice sounds broken.

With a solemn face, he takes in a deep breath, holds it, lets it out and writes, “No, I don’t.” He lies.  

He gives himself a pep talk.  Hang in there, Man.  It’s what you have to do if you want a chance with her.  You have to do this to make sure you get precious time with her.  She’s so fucking busy with work and HIM that she’ll never be able to squeeze you in if you don’t make it a priority for her.  

He wants to tell her:  McDreamy can have you for date nights, but during my last week, in this place, I’ll have you with me during the days.  Not an equal playing field in the least for me but it’s all I’ve got right now.  Instead, he just speaks it in his mind.

Auston knows that somehow, he has to counter what she’s getting from that doctor.

I have to make her question her feelings for him by getting her to know me and like me.  He tells himself.

“Auston?”  Dr Quinn softly pleads for him to answer.  She is shook.  “Auston, why would you say that?”  She feels shocked and hurt.

Auston prays in his mind:

Quinn, I hope you will be able to forgive me for what I’m about to say.  Brace yourself, cause I know this is going to hurt you…But, I have to say it, for the greater good, so here I go:

“Why didn’t you come to visit me this past week?  I was having a really hard time, and it felt like you had abandoned me.”  He writes, knowing what he’s doing.  Knowing her.  He holds himself steady and remembers to breathe.

“Wha?  No!  Oh… Auston!  No!  Oh my goodness, Auston!  No!” Dr Quinn fumbles as her heart tears apart.  She can hardly breathe.  She feels like she’s going to pass out.  She wants to get as near to Auston as possible to convince him otherwise.  She pulls her chair closer to his bedside. 

Feelings she had when Josh died in his accident are surfacing.  Back then she felt like she abandoned him when he died alone on route to the hospital in the ambulance. She should have gone with him, but she let EMS talk her out of it.  She felt as though she let him down in his hour of need. With Auston, she could have been there for him this week if she had made him a priority.  She lost her focus.

Her spirit feels like it’s crumbling and tears begin to well up as she makes assumptions. He felt abandoned by me.  On my watch! I let him down!  How could I be so insensitive?  I caused him pain!  Hasn’t he suffered enough?! 

She has a sudden intense desire to grab his hand, hold it and make him know that she cares about him.  But she stops herself, realizing that would be inappropriate.  She is doing everything she can to not let her tears spill.  It wouldn’t be professional, she tells herself.

Auston knows she’s inches from him, but he won’t dare look at her.  His senses are in overdrive.  He feels she’s about to cry.  His heart is breaking into pieces knowing how this is hurting her.  He wants desperately to grab her, pull her into his arms and confess his love for her.  But he can’t. He knows he’d lose her.  Even if she didn’t want to, he knows she’d have to pull away, shut him out completely.  She’d have to find him another doctor and she’s the only one who can do what she does with voice rejuvenation.  She’d reject him because her career does not permit her to encourage an attraction.  The timing is so bad.  

He knows what he has said is tearing her apart.  He knows being there for her patients is her sole purpose for being and he’s made her feel she’s failed him in that very objective.  He can’t bear what he’s done, but he believes it’s the only card he has to play.  Will it work?

P.S.  The photo of the cactus is a joke.  Just thought it was funny.

[scriptblossom]

Lean on Me

When Sasuke opened his eyes to the stream of daylight coming into his room, he immediately sensed that something was different about today. The person opening up the curtains was a blonde woman instead of the usual pink-haired doctor he was used to seeing each day. 

“You’re awake, Sasuke-kun.” He glances at her direction and it takes a momentary pause before he fully recognizes Ino without her full set of makeup on.

“Where’s Sakura?” he immediately questions.

“The hospital is understaffed so many of our patients today are in dire need of our top medic’s expertise,” Ino explains as she picks up a clipboard at the edge of his bed and begins to read through the details.

“You don’t look so good.” He could see the bags underneath Ino’s eyes. 

Ino gave a haggard smile. “Thanks for the compliment. I, at least, was able to catch a couple hours of zzz’s here and there. It’s Sakura that I’m worried about. I’m pretty sure she pulled several all nighters in the emergency room tending to the severely injured.”

“Where is she now?”

Ino glances at the clock. “If she’s a stickler like she always is, then hopefully on her 15 minute break to at least eat something for lunch.”

“You’re only giving her 15 minutes for lunch?” His words come out sharp as if he was scolding her.

“Hey, I’m the one insisting that she even takes a lunch. She thinks she’s super woman and can do everything without resting. For someone as smart as her, you would think she would listen to her own body first,” Ino says as she places the clipboard back down. “Someone will bring you your meal momentarily so hang tight. I have some more patients to check up on.”

Ino leaves the room and Sasuke watches her go. Once he sees the door closes behind her, Sasuke throws back the bedsheets as he hops off the bed. Quietly, he makes his way to the door as he opens it a crack and peeks outside. The hallway was silent and he could hear Ino’s footsteps disappearing around the corner. Ever so silently, he slips out of his room as he turns to go in the opposite direction that Ino went. 

As he heads down the hallway, he closes his eyes as he tries to concentrate to seek out Sakura’s signature chakra. It was faint but he could sense her nearby. He heads down a flight of stairs before coming to a long corridor. Against the backdrop of the white hospital walls, it wasn’t hard to spot the bright pink color at the end of the hallway. Sitting on an equally as white bench against the wall was Sakura with her head drifting down in slumber. A half eaten rice ball was clutched in one hand as her other hand held onto a small walkie talkie.

He goes to sit down beside her and as soon as he does, the walkie talkie in Sakura’s hand starts to beep. Quickly, he takes the device from her hand and answers it before it can make anymore noise. 

“Sakura-senpai! Can you come down to floor 3?” a male-sounding voice comes through on the other line.

He stares at the device in his hands as he presses the top button which he assumes is to answer. “Is it an emergency?” he asks as he speaks into it.

There was a brief silence before Sasuke hears a response. “H-hello? Who is this? Is this Sakura-senpai’s walkie?”

“Yes. Once again, I repeat... is it an emergency?”

“Uh.. no. But--”

“Then Sakura will contact you back later.” He clicks off the walkie talkie as he places it down besides him.

Sasuke turns his attention back to Sakura as he watches her head continue to drift up and down in her sleep. Slowly, he reaches out with his one good hand as he directs her head to lean against his shoulder. It is silent except for the sounds of her breathing and his own. He listens to her as she breathes in and out in a slow and steady, rhythmic pace. It is a stark contrast to the heavy rapid pounding of his heart against his chest. He knocks a hand against his chest as he wonders if he needs to get Sakura to check his heart condition to make sure his body is still functioning correctly. 

The minutes pass and Sasuke almost drifts off to sleep himself until he hears the crackling of noise coming from the walkie again. He must have not found the correct button for off. The noise this time was enough to wake up Sakura as her head jolts up and she almost bangs it against the wall.

He sticks his hand out in reflex as he catches the back of her head to prevent her from hitting the wall. 

“Sasuke-kun!” Sakura stares at him with a look of confusion written across her face. He figured she was still half-asleep since she looked almost lost as if she forgot where she was at too. The walkie talkie continued to buzz behind him and the sound must have fully awaken Sakura as she quickly reaches to answer the walkie talkie.

“Yes?”

“Sakura-senpai! Okay, it wasn’t an emergency before but now it is! Can you please come down to floor 3, please?!” The voice was now frantic and Sasuke almost felt slightly sorry for the guy he had previously ignored. Almost.

“I’m on my way. Relax, I’ll be there soon,” Sakura answers in a calming tone. It seems to do the trick because the voice on the other line calms down just a tad when he radios back.

Sakura lowers the walkie talkie down as she turns her attention to Sasuke. “What are you doing out of your room, Sasuke-kun? You aren’t feeling worse, are you?” She immediately goes into doctor mode as she slips the radio into her pocket and takes out a pen flashlight from the front outer pocket of her white coat. She clicks it and a bright light appears as she motions with one finger for him to open his mouth. 

Sasuke grabs her hand as he lowers her hand and the flashlight away from him. “I’m fine. I was just getting some... exercise.” That sounded more believable in his head than when said out loud. But Sakura didn’t seem to notice the difference as she nods and clicks her pen again so the light goes off. 

He realizes he is still holding her hand and he quickly releases it as he gives a slight cough and points down the hallway in a quick distraction. “You should probably get to the third floor. You seem to be really busy and that guy sounds like he is about to have a heart attack.”

“R-right!” Sakura quickly stands up as she walks a few steps towards the end of the corridor. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come visit you today. Things got really hectic and they need me to direct and monitor---”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he interrupts her. “Just... maybe you should finish that.”

He points to the rice ball still clutched in Sakura’s left hand. She looks down at it as if she just noticed that it was in her hand. “Oh, right,” she says as she nods and waves to him before turning around to leave. 

“Good work today. You can all return home to your families tonight and get some well-deserved rest. You will be back to your rotating shifts tomorrow morning,” Sakura announces as she claps her hand to signal the end of her announcement. The team of eight she is addressing begins to cheer and clap in applause as they make celebratory sounds. 

“Sakura-senpai!” A young male runs up to her as he hands her his walkie talkie. “I will be returning this to you then for the night!”

She takes it from him. “Thank you.”

“By the way, who was that man on the walkie earlier today?”

“Hm, what man?”

“Uh... well... during your break time---”

“Sakura!” Another voice interrupts him and Sakura turns around as she sees Ino stomping towards her. 

“Ino, what---”

Ino grabs Sakura by the wrist as she drags Sakura out of the room. “You need rest, pronto!” 

“But I am well rested!” Sakura argues.   

“15 minutes is not well rested, Sakura!”

“I didn’t take 15 minutes,” Sakura stops as she wriggles her wrist out of Ino’s death grip.

Ino whirls around and crosses her arms. “Don’t lie to me, Sakura,” Ino warns.

“I took at least half an hour,” Sakura replies sheepishly. 

Ino throws up her hands in the air in frustration. “I can’t with you, Sakura. Really? Half an hour? That’s what you call well rested?” 

Sakura chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to get a good night’s rest like the rest of the team. I just need to make one last stop first for the night.”

The blonde wags a finger at Sakura. “Okay, I’m holding you to your words. I better not see you in your office doing paperwork into the night. And I wouldn’t even be able to check on you since I’ll be sleeping... which is what YOU should be doing as well.”

Sakura nods. “Yes, yes. Thank you, mother.” She motions with her hands for Ino to go and reluctantly, her blonde friend listens as Ino heads towards the stairs to go down. 

Sakura watches as Ino’s blonde hair disappears from sight before she makes her way up the stairs to the fifth floor. Walking down the hallway, she comes to a stop in front of a room at the end of the hall. Slowly, she slides open the door as she peers inside. The room was dark except for the moonlight coming through the window. She makes her way inside as she almost tiptoes to the window. Staring out the window, she admires the view of the village as the lights from homes twinkle in the distance. 

“What are you doing?”

The deep voice cuts through the silence as Sakura whirls around and comes face to face with Sasuke, who was sitting up in his bed. 

“Sasuke-kun! You’re awake!” her startled voice squeaks out.

“Ah, you weren’t very discreet coming in here,” he replies.

“I was tiptoeing!” Sakura protests.

Sasuke smiles smugly. “I know. It was a sight to see.”

There was a silent pause as Sasuke watches Sakura rack her brain for something to say. “So again, what are you doing here, Sakura?” Sasuke asks again.

“I was...” Sakura makes her way towards the edge of his bed. “... just checking up on you like I promised.” She absent-mindedly reaches for the clipboard of his stats. 

“You didn’t make such a promise to me,” he points out.

“Oh.” Sakura places the clipboard back down. She looks back at him. “Earlier today... were you there when I was sleeping?” her voice falters for a bit as if she was questioning her own question. “And not just for like a little bit...” she clarifies. “... but for a long while.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, dodging the question with another question.

“I don’t know...” her voice trails off. “I just had a really nice nap today. Short, but it was the longest sleep I had in a long while.” Sakura smiles in thought as she tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“You should sleep more,” Sasuke comments. “The doctors here make me do it and I think it is working,” he notes, wryly.

“Ha ha,” Sakura says as she acknowledges the dry humor in Sasuke’s words. “Everything I tell you is for your benefit, Sasuke-kun.”

“I know,” he says. His response is almost immediate and it briefly stuns Sakura into another silent spell again as the two of them stare at each other in the dark.

“Well? Aren’t you going to bed now?” he says as he breaks the silence once again.

“I’m not so tired anymore,” Sakura answers softly. 

“Then you can accompany me in my boredom.” Sasuke scoots himself a bit over as he makes a spot on the bed for Sakura to sit beside him. Slowly, Sakura makes her way over as she sits down on the bed. 

“What do you want to do?” she asks.

Sasuke shrugs. “I don’t know. Tell me about your day. That’s what Naruto does all the time when I try to pretend I’m sleeping.”

Sakura can’t help but burst into laughter at the thought of Sasuke with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, while being fully annoyed at a chattery Naruto. But she begins to talk as she discusses her day and the hectic schedule she had going on the past few days. She talks until she doesn’t realized that her eyes were beginning to drift close and soon she knocks out.

Sasuke watches as Sakura’s head falls against his shoulder again. It lands with a soft thump and in the silence, all he can hear again was her breathing sounds mixing with the sound of his own breathing. He calmly lays his head against the wall behind him as he closes his eyes. He counts sheep in his head, he counts the number of beats his heart is making per second, and he counts the number of goosebumps he feels tingling on his arm at the slight touch of Sakura’s body leaning against him. With each count though, he loses track of time and slowly, he too, falls asleep with her.

[miraculouspaon]

More Things in Heaven and Earth

Chapter Six

AO3

Hawkmoth opened his eyes and looked across the room at his wife, who was still in bed and watching him intently.

“Well?” she asked, her voice tight. “Anything out of the ordinary?”

Hawkmoth hesitated. “It’s… difficult to say,” he replied. “It's only my third day; I’m still getting a feel for ordinary. And I’m not used to using these powers like this.”

“Correctly, you mean?” Nathalie let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry, that was unfair.”

“No, you’re right,” Hawkmoth said. “I have never before used these powers the way they were meant to be used. I have monitored Paris, but only to search for exploitable weaknesses. Monitoring for danger is different. Broader. Still, I don’t believe I sensed anything imminent.”

Nathalie nodded. She'd been on edge ever since Gabriel had reclaimed the Miraculous, and it didn't help that he'd been spending as much time transformed as possible ever since, in order to get accustomed to monitoring Paris. Now, though, some of the tension in Nathalie’s shoulders finally began to ease. Hawkmoth walked back to the bed. He sat down behind her, then placed a gloved hand on each shoulder. Slowly, he began to massage the remaining knots out. “You don’t need to… oh… never mind, yes, keep doing that,” Nathalie murmured. “Right there. Forever.” She closed her eyes, and for a few minutes the only sound in the room was her satisfied moans. “You’re better at this than I remember.”

Hawkmoth leaned next to Nathalie’s ear, not stopping. “Was it so easy to forget the advantages of an empathic partner?” he asked softly.

“I blocked them out, I suppose,” Nathalie whispered. “It was too difficult to separate them from all the disadvantages that came with it.”

“Fair.” Hawkmoth continued to massage Nathalie’s shoulders and upper back, easily zeroing in on the spots and techniques that produced in her the most satisfaction, the most pleasure. “I’d forgotten, too,” he admitted. “I’d banished the memory of how utterly breathtaking it is to feel everything you feel.” He kissed her neck softly. “Even your frustration, your annoyance. Although those do finally seem to be abating. It seems you’re coming around.”

“Mmhmm,” Nathalie said. There was, after all, no point in lying.

“It’s getting easier for you, to look at me like this.”

“In my defense, the costume change helped.”

Hawkmoth let out a low chuckle. “I don’t control the costume,” he said. “That’s all Nooroo. I suppose he feels I’ve earned the upgrade from the villain’s cowl to the standard mask. Or at least the benefit of the doubt.” He paused. “I haven’t, though. Not yet. But I will,” he promised.

Nathalie nodded. “I know,” she murmured. Her eyes stayed closed, she continued to bask in the caresses and the kisses that were growing more and more insistent, but there was still a kernel of hesitation at her core. She would not be returning any of these affections while her husband was transformed-not today, at any rate. Sighing, Gabriel dropped the transformation, returning to the shirt and boxer shorts he'd woken up in, and a moment later Nathalie twisted around to face him, touch him, kiss him. She brought a hand up to his face and caressed his cheek for a moment before sliding her hand around to the back of his neck and pulling him in for a more insistent kiss, keeping him on her as she fell back into the pillows.

“Nathalie,” Gabriel whispered, as his wife bit his lip and grabbed his shirt.

“Hmm?”

“I should get dressed.”

“That seems counter-productive.”

“Any other morning,” Gabriel replied, kissing the shock of red in her hair, “but the appointment’s in less than an hour.”

Surprised, Nathalie looked at her wristwatch. “Hell,” she muttered. She looked back at Gabriel. “Promise we’ll pick this up right after.”

Gabriel kissed her forehead. “Promise.”

 ~~~

 Alya looked at her two friends silently for a moment. “Okay, let me get this straight,” she finally said. “Your stepmom was kidnapped by an evil wizard trying to weaponize soulmarks.”

“Sorcerer,” Adrien corrected. “And… yeah, actually, that's a really good summary.”

“And you want me to break into his phone.”

Adrien scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, um, I completely understand if you don't want to get involved, but I thought-”

“If she doesn't want to get involved?” Nino interrupted skeptically. “This is Alya.”

“Yeah,” Alya agreed, waving her hand impatiently “obviously I want to get involved. I'm just surprised you can't get your magic mom to handle it or whatever.”

“She said there's anti-magic defenses on it. But hacking isn't magic-”

“My hacking is.”

“-so we thought you could probably do it faster than she could.”

Alya beamed at the praise and picked the phone up. “Yeah, I'm game,” she said. “Out of curiosity, though, on a scale of one to ten how worried do I need to be about this very dangerous sorcerer finding out I'm snooping through his things?”

“Zero,” Adrien said. “My mom… took care of him.”

“She took care of him?” Alya repeated skeptically. “What is this, a mafia movie? What does that even mean?”

“It means what it sounds like,” Adrien said, clearly uncomfortable.

Alya's eyes widened. “Oh,” she said. She looked back down at the phone. “What are you hoping to get from this, exactly?”

“Mom thinks he had a partner.”

“Do I need to be worried about that guy?”

Adrien shrugged. “We don't even know if he exists. Look, you're right, this is probably way too dangerous, I'll figure something else out.” He reached for the phone, but Alya snatched it away and quickly dropped it in her purse.

“No way am I not helping after everything you just told me,” she said, annoyed. “I don't care about danger. ‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing’, remember? Where would we be if Ladybug or Chat Noir only helped when it was safe?”

“Ladybug and Chat Noir are superheroes!” Adrien cried, exasperated. “They're a lot harder to kill than you are!”

“Oh, whatever.” Alya frowned. “Still, it's probably a good idea to bring them in on this. I mean, this is big, Adrien, you get that, right?”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Yes, Alya, I get that.”

“So you agree that I should call Ladybug and ask her to help?”

Adrien stared blankly for a moment, an expression Nino was quickly coming to recognize as the one his boyfriend wore when he was trying and failing to think of how to gracefully get out of secret identity shenanigans. “Sure,” he finally said. “That's probably a good idea. Um, you don't have to keep bugging her with updates you get from me though, you can just send her to me and I'll fill her in with everything directly.”

Alya raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Careful, Adrien, your boyfriend’s right here, you don't want to make him jealous.”

“What? No, no, no, I didn't mean it like-”

“Oh, relax, Nino gets it, he had that little fling with Chat Noir earlier this year,” Alya said, grinning as Adrien turned bright red. “If you ask me, you should get a one-time pass for your own superhero crush. I mean, fair’s fair, right?” She looked at Nino expectantly.

Nino rolled his eyes. “Sure, why not,” he said. “But I think Adrien's a little preoccupied right now with the mysterious sorcerer that's maybe trying to kill his parents.”

“Right.” Alya frowned again. “How big of a problem are sorcerers, anyway? I mean, I knew they existed, obviously, but I had no idea they were like, kidnapping citizens for weird magic rituals and basically getting away with it scot-free. And not everyone's as lucky as you are to have their own sorcerer who can ‘take care of’ the dangerous ones for them. Shouldn't people know about this?”

Adrien shrugged. “Maybe? I don't know, we can worry about it after we solve this soulmark thing.”

“Shouldn't people know about that, too?”

“No,” Adrien said emphatically. “Regular people can't do anything to protect against it, it'll just make them panic. And if other sorcerers find out that it's possible, they might figure out how to make it work. We can't let this get out, Alya.”

Alya's frown deepened. “I'm a journalist, Adrien, the idea of keeping secrets from people ‘for their own good’ doesn't exactly sit well with me.”

“Keeping secrets to protect people is the entire basis of how all the superheroes you love operate,” Adrien said defensively.

“Those are their secrets to keep, Adrien! This isn't like a civilian identity, this affects everyone.” Alya stood. “I won't say a word about it to anyone else before we figure this out, and I won't publish anything without telling you first, but I'm not going to promise to keep this a secret forever, Adrien. Not before I have a better understanding of how much secrecy actually protects regular people, and how much it protects the sorcerers who exploit them. Fair?”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah, that's fair.”

“I'll let you know when I manage to break into the phone.”

“Thanks.”

 ~~~

 “Everything looks great,” Dr. Martinez said, and Gabriel relaxed his grip of Nathalie’s hand ever so slightly.

“You're sure?” Nathalie asked, not taking her eyes off the ultrasound screen.

“Mmhmm,” the doctor assured her. She pointed. “There's the heartbeat, right there. I know it's not much to look at this early, but trust me, that's exactly what we want to see.” She shifted the wand around. “Lining looks good. There's no sign of anything out of the ordinary. No cramping, bleeding?” Nathalie shook her head. “Well, call if that changes. Otherwise, I think it's safe to say you're out of the woods.” The irony of this phrasing did not escape Nathalie, but she ignored it.

“If something like this should happen again-” Gabriel started to ask.

“-come back right away,” the doctor finished. She looked at Gabriel. “Do you expect something like this to happen again? Because we really very strongly advise against any kind of magic exposure for the entire gestation.”

Gabriel hesitated. “No,” he lied, “we don't expect anything like this to happen again. It was an unfortunate fluke.”

Dr. Martinez nodded slowly, clearly skeptical. “Well, it's not really my area of expertise. If this is going to be a repeated occurrence, perhaps I should refer you to an obstetrician who has more experience with magic exposure in pregnancies.”

“No,” Nathalie said immediately, still not looking away from the screen.

“Nathalie-”

“I'm not switching to another obstetrician.”

“Why not? The doctor said herself that-”

“Because we interviewed over two dozen,” Nathalie said, “and Dr. Martinez is the only one who didn't immediately start gushing about how easy soulmarked pregnancies were.”

The doctor snorted as she shut the machine off and handed Nathalie a paper towel. “Is that how I got the job?” she asked. “Yes, most of my colleagues tend to get excited about patients like you, and the numbers are there, but,” she shrugged, “there's no such thing as a sure thing in this field. I wish there were, but it's better to just be ready for anything.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Nathalie said, finally tearing her eyes away from the now blank screen in order to wipe away the ultrasound gel from her bared abdomen.

Dr. Martinez gave Nathalie’s shoulder a gentle pat. “Like I said, call if anything comes up. Otherwise, I'll see you in a few weeks for your next regular appointment.” She left the room, and Nathalie let out a heavy sigh of relief as she pulled her shirt back down and sat up.

“I don't think I realized how much anxiety I was carrying over this,” Nathalie said softly.

“I did,” Gabriel replied.

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “Show-off,” she muttered, but Gabriel could feel the amusement she was hiding just as easily as he'd felt her anxiety. He leaned against the exam table and Nathalie took his hand and squeezed it. “I don't want to have to come back here again,” she whispered. “I wish I could believe the worst is over.”

“For you it is,” Gabriel promised. “The rest of us will take care of whatever comes along. There's no reason for you to get dragged into it. You can stay safely out of whatever comes next.”

Nathalie scoffed. “Staying safely out of things has never exactly been my forte.”

 ~~~

 Gabriel knocked on his son’s bedroom door. There was a certain unfortunate irony, that Gabriel had only recently gotten into the habit of respecting his son’s privacy right before reacquiring powers that made the gesture completely moot.

“Father?” Adrien opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Gabriel to enter. As he did, he noticed Nino sitting on the couch in front of some muted anime.

“Adrien. I…” Gabriel hesitated. “I’m not sure if this is appropriate, but I was attempting to acclimate to the Butterfly Miraculous again, and I sensed… distress. Fear.”

Adrien's eyes widened. “Ian's partner? Is he-”

“No,” Gabriel interrupted. “It's nothing to do with that. Nothing to do with sorcery or soulmarks, nothing that poses any kind of a threat to us whatsoever. It is simply a domestic dispute. About ten blocks north. There are children present. The situation is not currently violent, but it could quickly become so. I know this is not why the Guardian bestowed this Miraculous, but I thought-”

“You thought a visit from Chat Noir might set the guy straight,” Adrien finished.

“Something along those lines, yes.”

“Yeah, of course.” Adrien turned to Nino. “I'll be back soon.” He transformed, and a second later had disappeared out his bedroom window.

In the wake of his absence, Gabriel and Nino stared at one another for a few moments of silence. “You disapprove,” Gabriel finally said.

“No,” Nino said slowly, “I just… are you going to send Adrien to deal with every domestic dispute in all of Paris from now on?”

“I don't know. I hadn't really considered-”

“Because he’ll take care of every single one you send him after, you know,” Nino continued. “Happily. Even if it completely drains him, which it will. It's a lot to put on one guy, even a superhero. So maybe consider that, too.”

Gabriel nodded. “That is a good point. I will try to find an appropriate balance.”

“Thanks.” Nino started to turn back around, then hesitated. “You, um, you can sense stuff that specific?”

“While transformed, yes,” Gabriel replied. “This surprises you?”

Nino shrugged. “Look, I wasn't gonna bring it up or anything, but back when you were, you know, akumatizing someone new every other day, I guess I always figured you didn't actually have that much say in what kind of people you found. Because if your powers were good enough to pick out the really bad guys, guys that would hit their wife or rob a bank or whatever, then why were you always picking people like…”

“Like you?” Gabriel asked.

Nino shrugged. “Well, yeah.”

“I would have,” Gabriel replied, “if it had been my aim to damage Paris as much as possible. It was not. The terrorism was incidental. I realize this is not exactly a comfort-Adrien certainly took little comfort in it, when we finally discussed it-but I never wanted to create any more chaos than necessary in order to draw out the major Miraculouses. A violent man, a sadistic criminal, akumas made from people like that would have been an ugly thing. An akuma made from someone like you, on the other hand, a decent person caught in a temporary moment of weakness, could be trusted not to take things too far.”

Nino raised an eye skeptically. “So, what, it was a compliment?”

Gabriel sighed. “Again, I understand how little a comfort it actually is. My actions three years ago were inexcusable. I do see that now. I regret that you were caught up in them.”

Nino’s expression didn’t change. “Apologies aren’t really your thing, are they?”

“They are not.”

Nino nodded slowly. “Well… thanks for trying, anyway.”

Gabriel nodded. “I appreciate you taking all this in stride,” he said. “It cannot have been an easy thing to find out, especially in the middle of my wife’s disappearance.”

“Oh, yeah, well,” Nino shrugged, “after finding out Adrien’s Chat, I kind of just braced myself for everything in his life to be insane. Besides, Nat married you, so you can’t be all bad, I guess.”

“Still. I think most young men would be far more distressed, to find out their boyfriend’s father was a former supervillain. You must care about my son a great deal, to let it go so easily.”

Nino blinked, stunned, and his cheeks went pink. “I, uh-well, yeah, of course I do, but, um, when-how did you, uh-”

“Over the next few days, I expect to fully adjust to becoming an empath again,” Gabriel interrupted, “and I will be able to direct my abilities enough that there are no more violations of privacy or awkward revelations. In the meantime, however, I’m afraid I cannot help but pick up on these things.”

Nino nodded. “Uh huh. Right. Well, I mean, we were going to tell you anyway, it’s just Nat disappeared and everything was crazy and it didn’t, you know, seem like a great time to bring it up. I mean, it never seemed like a great time, but Adrien had finally psyched himself up for it, he really had, and then-”

“It is not a mystery to me,” Gabriel said softly, “that Adrien still finds it difficult to share personal things with me. It is not a mystery to me why that is, either, or whose fault it is. I didn’t mean to accuse. I simply wished to express my gratitude, that is all.” Before Nino could reply, Gabriel left the room.

[quarkie-blog1]

I wonder whether I should be concerned that I’m writing quite a few chapters mostly on flashbacks when I’m still at the beginning of the fanfiction. But at the same time, the problem with AUs is that it’s likely the reader could get confused by the setting? Also, I kind of did want to explain a bit about Alito and Gilag’s background....  [Chapter Index] Title: The Lowest Quarter Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal Characters: Alito, Gilag, [Nasch], [Vector] Notes: This was partially inspired from a story I had heard from a friend who had been telling me about different reasons why people go to prison, some are more by free will than others.  I was tempted to include more details about the kitchen, but maybe in the next section for this scene.

“Vector and Mizael are still not back yet.” Alito said, turning towards the windows. Now at the coast, the wind outside was stronger and harsher. The rain was almost like arrows hammering onto the ceiling of the warehouse; it was so loud that he felt that he needed to speak louder without his words being drowned out.

Not too far, Durbe was conversing with Nasch while the two were continuing to stare at two monitors, in front of a temporary desktop. Being prepared for such situation, Durbe hadn’t taken much time to set it up the minute that they had shut the door and ensured no one else had sneaked in.

Gilag had gotten up from the crate that he was sitting on. After telling Nasch that he was going to explore a little, Alito had followed. It seemed that at this time the television wasn’t showing anything of interest to his friend.

“There really isn’t much to see around here though…” He muttered as they passed a few rooms in what seemed to be sleeping quarters previously for workers. Gilag tested the fold-in bed, connected to the wall. Though it was sturdy to hold his weight, it didn’t seem too comfortable. There was no way he was sleeping on one of these tonight.

His eyes scanned over the other bare furniture sitting in the room. The desk didn’t even have an accompanied chair. The glare of the metal surface made the closet seem like it was just a more rectangular crate, fixed atop a safe.

“This looks more like a prison…” Gilag muttered to himself, loud enough for his friend to hear clearly.

“Minus the windows, and the metal wardrobe. ”

“Yeah….”

“Do you think…” Alito noticed the pause in the other’s words. “It would be safer if this was in the detention centre again?”

His taller Barian comrade was referring to the security in the juvenile detention centre they had been sent to before, It had occurred by some chance when they actually had decided to get caught by the police by their own free will.

“Your cell is this way, Make sure to remember the number correctly.” The guard said. The two followed behind him, while he continued to repeat about how strict they will be on rule-breakers. Gilag hadn’t really been paying attention to where they were walking until Alito suddenly tugged on his arm sharply so he wouldn’t collide into the prison guard.

“This is cell seventeen.” He opened the door, giving a stern look at the two to not argue as they walked in. “Whoever’s in charge, come here! These are the new inmates. Make sure to tell them the rules.”

There were only two others in the cell. The one who was standing turned and walked over. The first thing that the two noticed was his striking dark-blue hair, that reached towards his shoulders. HIs face hardened to a glare just when the guard had left and the door closed.

“Hi, I’m Alito,” Alito started, wanting to break the ice. He noticed the rather unfriendly look but decided not to comment on it, since he had seen people wanting to look strong, a common thing in the red-light district. He then pointed to his friend. “This is my friend, his name is Gilag. And yours…?”

“Nasch. Just call me Nasch.” The other said while sitting down on the bed, closest to the wall. Later on in the future, the two would come to know that it was a mere alias, that his real name was Ryoga Kamishiro.

“Soooo… what did you do to find yourselves here, hm?” A more seemingly light-hearted voice answered. Gilag turned towards the only other in the cell. With the relaxed posture he had with his two arms at the back of his head, it would have looked like the orange-haired teenager wasn’t at a cell but in his own room.

“Nothing much, other than betting and fighting in the underground arena.” Alito laughed.

There was a light hum as the teenager sat up. “Oh?” ths orange-haired teenager sat up. Mild interest in his eyes. “You’re brave enough to go to that part of the city.”

“Nah,” Alito grinned. “Gilag and I grew up there.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Nasch has settled down on his side of the bed simply listening.

“But from what I've heard, you bunch would be able to outrun the Heartland Police easily. What happened?”

The two childhood friends looked at each other for a moment before it was Gilag who answered for them.

“We decided not to,” he answered, “we figured living here is better, since that would be mean there's a roof with food.”

“Only downside is you can't fight or find much entertainment, I suppose.” Alito added. Just based on what was told to him as the two had arrived, it seemed they wanted these teenagers to spend hours locked in the room just to think when they got bored of talking to each other.

“Wait, wait, wait” Vector cut in rather quickly, pointing his fingers at both of them “you're telling me, you and you, just decided to get caught so you have a roof to stay?”

“...”

Over the silence, Nasch had muttered something about “insane people”, but it was too inaudible to hear with  over the other who suddenly burst out laughing, then rolling onto his side. Awkwardly Alito and Gilag merely stood until he caught his breath back.  

“Ha ha ha, … well then, nice to meet you, here-just-for-food Gilag and Alito. I’m Vector,” he pointed at himself. “Let’s hope that we get along. Just remember to not get caught breaking the rules. Or if you do... blame it on another cell.” 

Alito shrugged, back in their present conversation. “Hm… I guess? With the guards there it won't be too easy for Don Thousand to find Rio.” Currently he was  bending down to inspect the contents in the safe. The place didn’t look that empty. Whoever had stopped working here, didn’t bother to throw out a bunch of random things.

“Although,” he continued. “I heard that the guards in female prisons are more laxed.“

“How could I forget that Rio would have been put in a different place altogether.” Gilag slapped a palm to his forehead, feeling a bit silly for bringing such a thing up in the first place. “And now that I think about it,  I guess it wouldn’t be much safe either, with Vector.”

Alito couldn’t agree more while gesturing with his hand that they decided to check out the other rooms. “Yeah… I didn’t hate everything there, but sometimes …”

There were times when things just escalated too quickly, that no one could really pinpoint who was the cause of the chaos. Like that one time when it was supposed to be a peaceful free time.

There was always about 20 minutes where they were allowed to just amuse themselves in the courtyard. Sometimes if the guard was new or more lenient they could quickly buy something from the only shop. Nasch was the one who had went the most frequently, mostly to use the phone to call his friend and family.

Today was different; two inmates from cell twelve had approached the four with darkening looks. Nasch wasn’t in the mood to have the scarce free time to be “wasted”. Apparently telling the two to “shove off” would have the opposite effect. They continued demanding to “pulverize” Vector for his meddling that got them into trouble.

“Me? Whatever did I do?”

“You!“

“What about me?” Vector laughed, his eyes showing hints of mischief.

Vector’s collar was suddenly grabbed by a fist marred by scars. That was when the guard nearby had yelled over them to break apart.

“What are you doing? Do you want to run 100 laps AGAIN like this morning?”

Nasch was about to curse, as Alito was going to speak up to explain their situation. Only both the latter and Gilag had stopped when they saw the glint of metal under the sun.

“No, not at all. Sorry, officer.” Vector replied with a mock salute. The one who had grasped onto his collar earlier let go. From the angle where the guard was, they couldn’t see the fork that was pointing at the inmate’s chest. For many around here, a simple kitchen utensil could be used as a weapon.

Up until now, Alito never got around to ask Vector how on earth he had managed to smuggle that fork from the prison’s kitchen. Nor did he ever find out the truth whether that time it really was Vector that riled them up. Speaking of the kitchen, the two had found a door that led to what would be the basement. Though the shelves were empty, Gilag figured that this could be a makeshift pantry.

The two walked back to the room where Durbe was.  Nasch was no longer there. The grey-haired young man was leaning back in his seat, eyes closed though his breath too quick to be sleeping. Maybe tired from staring at the screen for the last few hours, Gilag had figured. There was a few clattering sounds from the kitchen, telling them that someone was in the kitchen.

“Aren’t you guys hungry yet?” Rio said, while closing the cupboard under the sink to inspect another. .

As though on cue, there was a groaning sound someone’s stomach. There was a small shuffle of feet while Gilag and Alito had entered the kitchen to offer to help. It looked rather bare, since it had been mere hours since they settled in here.

Seeing Rio though had brought up a question that Alito hadn’t really asked in the past. It wasn’t something that bothered him, and he had wanted to respect Nasch and Merag’s privacy.

“Hey, Rio. What was the reason why Don Thousand is after you?”

Surely, by this time the Kamishiro siblings would be able to trust the other members of the Barians?

Rio closed the cupboard that she was peering into at that moment. “Oh? Ryoga never told you? Sure, though it’s probably easier for me to show you. Let me first get the water running from the tap. “