#cass waves then points at a container on the counter

[brains-out-rn]

I love this. So much.

dick got a new apartment. but at what cost

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language, implied cannibalism (because Vampires)

Warnings: Aforementioned implied cannibalism

Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering… could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique “soul mark”, which they share with their soulmate.

Notes: Features a cameo of sorts for my OC, Avaskian Caldwell. Not beta read.

Previous Chapters: 1: In The Shadow Of Giants, 2: Uncertain Destinations

3: Eat Your Heart

“Well,” Bela says, only moderately sounding hostile, “I do believe that marks the end of our tour. Unless you would like to see the dungeons? Perhaps get a proper look at where you might end up, hmm?” Resisting the urge to roll your eyes is more difficult than you would have preferred. Somehow you manage, though, and reply in a relatively relaxed tone.

“I think I’ll have to pass. After all, I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner, now would I?” You incline your head towards a nearby clock to emphasize your point. For a split second Bela seems surprised, as if she hadn’t been keeping track of time at all. But the look vanishes as quickly as it came about, soon replaced with a calculating gaze, and she gives a short nod. “Is it safe to assume that you eat together, as a family?” Another nod, this time accompanied by a small look of confusion. “Mmm, sounds wonderful. It’s been far too long since I’ve shared a nice family meal.”

That certainly wasn’t what Bela had expected you to say.

“Oh? I do hope that you can stomach the sight of blood, then. Otherwise it might not feel so nice,” she replies, after a slight pause. Her earlier confidence had returned, further bolstered by the resulting giggles from her sisters. They were a chaotic bunch. Regardless, Bela soon takes your wrist in her hand, pulling you towards the dining room, grip only tight enough to be slightly uncomfortable. Both of her siblings followed closely behind, occasionally whispering unintelligible jokes to one another. One in particular leaves Daniela pausing in the hallway, hunched over laughing, with an unnerving edge of something else you couldn’t quite place. A backwards glance in her direction leads you to make eye contact with Cassandra, who gives you a knowing smirk. Deciding that you didn’t want to know what she had said, you turned back towards Bela, and stayed facing that way until you reached the dining hall.

Inside, Alcina was already sitting at the head of the table, in a chair that would have seemed a throne to anyone else. On either side of her are two more seats, far less ornate than her own. For a moment the sisters and you hesitate in the entranceway. Evidently they weren’t accustomed to this particular arrangement, unsure where to sit. It’s not until Bela clears her throat that Alcina speaks up.

“On my left, dear,” she says, eying her eldest daughter, before turning to you. “You may sit to my right. I trust that you’ll find this agreeable?” Well, you weren’t exactly about to argue with her, so yes, you found it agreeable. Even if it meant sitting across from the more ‘direct’ member of your opposition. Though perhaps ‘judge’ and/or ‘jury’ was a better word for the Dimitrescu daughters. Regardless, you were going to have to sit with them, and in the end it hardly mattered who was where. As such, you semi-awkwardly made your way to your seat, hoping that you’d eventually feel less out of place. Soon enough Cassandra takes the spot next to you, giving you a concerning smirk as she does. What did she have planned? Before you can even contemplate her intentions, her mother is talking again, drawing both of your attention towards herself. “Splendid. I’m glad to see that you’re already finding your place here.”

It’s not hard, you think, when you’re directing my every step. Despite your biting internal commentary, you do not speak out loud, merely giving a polite smile and nod. Across from you, Bela gives her mother an affectionate expression before fixing you with a subtle disapproving look. Taking some small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t being openly hostile, you forced yourself to keep smiling, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as you can muster. Within moments both of you have your attention drawn elsewhere, thankfully, as servants begin carrying in various food platters. Most of the dishes appeared to be perfectly normal. But looks could be deceiving, and you knew that at least a handful had to contain less “traditional” ingredients. They remembered to cook something normal for me, right?

Soon enough your fears are somewhat alleviated, as one of the servants places an already filled plate in front of you. Admittedly you don’t recognize xer, despite xer oddly silver hair, or the red bandana xe wore. Something told you that xe wasn’t just another maiden, however, especially with the way xe brazenly made eye contact with each of the Dimitrescus. Before you could inquire about xer, you’re distracted by the arrival of Juniper, who instantly smiles when she sees you. In her arms she carries the last two side dishes and several empty plates, which the unknown servant gently takes from her. Together the two of them set the final items into place. Wordlessly, the grey-haired person removes a notebook from xer back pocket, handing it to Juniper with the barest sliver of a smile. Clearly having done this more than once, she accepts it readily, opening it to a bookmarked page.

“My Ladies, and our dearest, most esteemed guest, I present to you another fine selection of traditional Romanian dishes, for your sincere enjoyment. Today we will be drinking one of our more popular styles of wine, known as Febris Amatoria, meaning ‘fever of love’ in Latin,” she reads, only somewhat shakily. Next to her, the stranger inclines xer head to your employers, then does the same to you. At this point you have to assume that xe doesn’t speak, and that Juniper was serving as a translator of sorts. “Due to the unexpected nature of our guest, the dishes are not clearly marked in regards to their ingredients. You have my- as in Mx Caldwell- assurance that this will be handled by the next standard mealtime, where the shared dishes will be color coded. In the meantime, I- again, Mx Caldwell- will remain here, in order to prevent any… unintentional ingestion of human remains.” Gulping, Juniper returns the notebook to the stranger (Caldwell, apparently), then exits the room alongside the other servants.

“Isn’t Febris Amatoria also another name for a type of anemia?” Bela asks, slowly swirling the contents of her glass as she does. Caldwell, who had moved to stand several feet behind Alcina, gives a nod in response, and appears mildly amused.

“A clever allusion to our family’s nature, isn’t it? I know Daniela has certainly drained a number of ‘lovers’ over the years, perhaps causing a case or two,” Cassandra teases, much to her younger sister’s irritation. Personally you were surprised that she was willing to admit such a thing in front of her mother. Unless you were reading too much into the word ‘lovers’, due to the rumors you had heard regarding Lady Daniela. Nonetheless, the Lady in question is aggravated enough to sit up, looking ready to lunge across the table at Cassandra. As soon as Daniela moves (with frightening speed), her sister easily catches her wrist, using her other hand to wave a finger back and forth. “Ah, ah, ah, Dani, we have a guest. Do try to behave yourself.”

“Oh, because you’re the epitome of table manners? I’m amazed you haven’t already managed to spill wine all over your dress,” Daniela counters, before ripping her arm away from Cassandra. They both huff, but are quick to quiet down when their mother sends them a look. “Dinner looks delectable, as usual, Ava,” Daniela continues, after clearing her throat, accentuating the end of her sentence with a gesture of her wine glass. Then she takes a long drink from it, perhaps thinking that a little intoxication might make the evening easier to get through. Deciding that maybe she had the right idea, you take a sip from your own glass, relishing the subtle hint of lavender.

In the minutes that follow, things slide into easy comfort. Caldwell once more moves closer to the table, helping pass along side-dishes from person to person, quietly pointing out which ones you could safely consume, occasionally chuckling in response to the jokes that the daughters shared. A strange warmth built itself up within the center of your chest, heart yearning for age-old memories of your own family. Three months had passed since the last time you felt this way. Really, it felt so much like family that you didn’t catch the way Cassandra’s lips twitched into a smirk, or the way she met Bela’s gaze, or the way she pushed a dish just a tad further towards you than necessary. All it had taken was a single second of your gaze turned elsewhere… then you were reaching for the castle’s special variety of forbidden fruit.

“Ayye, nyet, nyet!” Caldwell snaps, voice oddly strained, hand wrapping around your wrist in an instant. All eyes are on you now, though Alcina’s soon flicker over to the servant. “Cass. Bad girl,” xe continues, going so far as to shake xer finger disapprovingly. Understandably, you’re rather shocked to see a butler be so bold with someone so dangerous. Even more shocking is the way that Cassandra backs down without a hint of a fight, refusing to meet her mother’s steely gaze, not even pretending that she hadn’t attempted to trick you. Satisfied with this outcome, Caldwell wordlessly fades back into the background.

Although you had almost committed an unwilling act of cannibalism, you managed to slowly relax again, content to listen in on (but not participate in) the conversations around you. ‘Twas somewhat awkward, admittedly, to be the odd one out in a family so close. Yet a part of you had gained a new sense of hope by meeting Caldwell. After all, if a human such as xerself could become so close as to chastise Cassandra of all people, why couldn’t you?

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

“Once again, I would like to… apologize, on behalf of my daughters,” Alcina says, rather softly, still keeping a gentle hand on your back to guide you along. “I must admit, I do not wish to dwell on what might have happened if not for Avaskian.”

“Believe it or not, I think I actually understand where they’re coming from. Though, of course, I am also grateful for Caldwell’s intervention. But really… your family has been together for several decades now, right? Any addition is guaranteed to stir things up,” you respond with a shrug. “Besides, I’m more than aware that I don’t exactly stand at the same level as your other romantic interest.” Suddenly both of you are halting in the middle of the hallway, unable to meet each other’s gaze, regret rumbling like butterflies in your stomach. You hadn’t intended to bring up your soulmate’s somewhat obvious affections for Mother Miranda.

“Hmm. So you are… aware of that,” Alcina murmurs, finally turning her head to look down at you. There’s no small amount of pain in her eyes, though you can tell she’s holding as much of it in as possible. “I would prefer it if we did not speak of this. I do hope you have no qualms with that.” For once, there is no hint of force or commanding edge to her tone. For once, she is letting you act as an equal, the first step towards actually accepting your role as her soulmate. It’s enough to make the corners of your lips turn up, if only for a moment.

“Alcina… I understand. I merely want to say that it won’t affect how I feel, or how I act. Love is a blessing, even when it ends in pain. I… have loved before. People whom I will never see again, people who never felt the same way, and maybe people who I really only thought that I loved. I’m trying to think of those experiences as lessons. Situations that taught me something about myself, or about what love is, that I can keep in mind and use going forward. Just as I promised to your daughters, I will try to love you. I will give you an honest chance, regardless of our past circumstances. Because we’re soulmates. Because this is the world offering us a shot at something amazing, and I’m not about to give that up,” you explain, placing one of your hands in Alcina’s. For a moment there’s silence, but you see both surprise and happiness in her expression. Still, there’s a hint of tension remaining in the air, so you do your best to dispel it. “Also your daughters threatened to kill me if I didn’t, and I’d hate to perish before lasting a full year here. I heard a rumor that one of the senior staff members makes cards to celebrate.”

Next thing you know, you’re hearing a beautiful sound, a light, genuine laugh from Alcina, who all at once releases the tension in her shoulders.

“Yes, I do believe Ava, or Caldwell as you said, still makes those. Always with strange little drawings of felines…” She trails off, voice fading into another chuckle, before at last resuming her walk, never letting go of your hand. “As much as I have enjoyed our chat, I do believe it is about time that I retire for the night. We will see each other once more in the morning. For now, I bid you goodnight. Sleep well, my dear.” With that, the two of you arrive at the entrance to the servants’ quarters, and you find just enough courage to bring her hand to your lips, for a brief kiss.

“Goodnight, Lady Alcina. May your dreams be as sweet as your company.”

[inkedstarlight]

I Put A Spell On You

Summary: Nesta and Cassian hated each other. Ever since freshman year of college, he'd been nothing but a pain in her ass. Their conversations always ended in screaming matches, and they couldn't agree on a single thing. So why was Nesta so angry to see him with another girl at a Halloween party one night? Cassian quickly picks up on her jealousy and teases her about it, only further infuriating Nesta. Sexual tension, unresolved feelings, and an intense game of truth or dare ensue. Warnings: explicit language, NSFW Read it here on AO3

Lana Del Ray’s “Season of the Witch” was playing quietly in the background as Nesta put on the finishing touches of her makeup. Tossing the mascara on the counter, she took a step back to assess herself in the mirror.

Her lips were a deep red, so dark it was almost black. A golden crescent moon was painted on her forehead, her daring brows arched on each side. Stormy grey eyes were heavily lined with midnight kohl, streaks of black running down her cheeks as if she’d just dragged her acrylic nails down her face. It looked like dripping blood. A golden arm cuff in the figure of a snake curved its way around her bicep, and it was quite possibly Nesta’s favorite part of the entire costume.

And her dress? Her dress was the most elegant thing she’d ever worn. Nesta didn’t even know how to describe it, the layered fabric falling down to the floor, the sleeves black and sheer. All she knew was she felt fucking powerful.

She smirked devilishly at the reflection staring back at her. It was like looking at Hecate herself.

To put it blatantly, Nesta was a whore for Halloween. She loved everything about spooky season: witches, full moons, candy, costumes, horror movies. The frightening, dark atmosphere that ensconced her throughout the entire month of October. Not to mention it was the one of the few holidays that didn’t revolve around family-oriented activities. Needless to say, Nesta was in her element.

Emerie peered her head into the bathroom where Nesta was getting ready. Her smile was wicked as she took in Nesta. “You just took fashionably late to the next level.”

Nesta laughed at her friend’s reaction. “You’re one to talk.”

Emerie was wearing a silky, burgundy robe. It was untied, leaving her tiny black slip in full view. The delicate fabric fell just inches below her waist, and she stood impossibly straight in glittery stilettos. To top it all off, bunny ears protruded from her waves of dark hair. She was a Playboy Bunny, and she looked fucking fantastic.

“How late are we?”

Emerie checked her phone. “About an hour.”

Nesta shrugged and shot her a wink. “It’s always fun to make a bit of an entrance.”

Nesta and Emerie had been close friends since freshman year. Nesta’s roommate was seldom in their room, and Emerie’s roommate was always bringing hookups to her respective room. So, when the two became aware of each other’s unfortunate (albeit convenient) situations, Emerie began staying over at Nesta’s. She would sleep over several nights a week, and it eventually became her room too. It worked perfectly.

Now, as upperclassmen, the duo lived in on-campus apartments. Just them and Minx. AKA the tiny but fierce black cat they rescued just a year prior.

“Guess who I heard is coming?”

Nesta dropped what she was doing to look at her friend. She knew that tone. That tone was always followed by a sinking feeling of dread in her stomach.

She threw Emerie a look. “I swear to the gods if you say Cass –”

“It’s Cassian!” Emerie sang smugly, jazz hands and all.

Nesta groaned. Cassian Bechalot was the bane of her existence. He was a senior, Nesta a junior, and he’d been a pain in her ass from day one. The first day of classes in her freshman year, Nesta had been sitting in her biology lab waiting for the class to begin. Ten minutes after class started, Cassian rushed through the doors in a dramatic entrance. To Nesta’s dismay, he sat next to her. The professor then proceeded to review the syllabus, mentioning the fact that they will be assigned semester-long lab partners. By “assigned,” she meant the person sitting next to you. Nesta had barely held back her groan when Casssian smirked at her and said, “I have a feeling this is going to be my favorite class.” For the next four months, he made Nesta hate biology. Purely because she now associated it with him. Cassian made it his personal mission to annoy the living hell out of her.

Skip to sophomore year. Cassian was adamant on sitting next to her in a lecture they were both enrolled in. Nesta was minding her damn business when he’d looked over her shoulder to catch her reading fanfiction on her laptop. And of course, it wasn’t some innocent story. No, with Nesta’s luck, it had been a smutty-ass fic that was basically porn without a plot. Cassian was unable to contain his laughter, the immature child he was. The professor stopped midsentence to narrow her eyes at his disruption. Nesta remembered it clear as day.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Mr. Bechalot? Since it’s clearly a matter important enough to interrupt my class.”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Cassian had grinned. He nodded his head at Nesta, the latter of whom was red in the face from both embarrassment and anger. “But I don’t think the Mrs. would be very happy with me.”

The class had whopped, some applauding Cassian’s antics.

“Enlighten me.”

He’d shrugged given Nesta a look that said, There’s nothing I can do to stop what’s about to happen.

What a fucking liar.

“Nesta was just getting in her daily dose of fanfiction. It happened to be a particularly…” Cassian paused. The bastard paused for dramatic effect. “… risqué.”

And queue the laughter.

So that was one of many reasons Nesta couldn’t stand him. After that fiasco, countless others followed. Some fiascos were of Nesta’s doing.

What? Nesta couldn’t let him win every time. She had a couple tricks up her sleeve, too. And it’s not like she was going to let him off the hook without facing the consequences.

Emerie was convinced it was some sort of star-crossed lovers shit. She dubbed them an “enemies-to-lovers” slow burn. She was the biggest (and only) advocate for a romantic relationship to blossom between them.

But Nesta? Nesta saw it for what it was.

Pure, unadulterated hatred.

And now he was crashing the party Nesta had been looking forward to all week.

The party was at their friend’s off-campus apartment. There were going to be a lot of people there, but Nesta had seriously doubted he would be invited. At Pryth U, there was an obnoxious division between athletes and the rest of the undergraduates. Nesta loathed the cliquey dynamic. But while the athletes certainly had a reputation, she had many friends who were on the college teams. It was really only the men’s lacrosse team that lived up to their reputation, and Cassian just so happened to be the captain. Who’s surprised?

Cassian had a way of getting in her head, of fueling her already hotheaded temper. Their interactions typically ended in a screaming match. He would tell her to loosen up, and Nesta would tell him to fuck off. He’d make some raunchy joke of it, and she would go off on him. They’d have a staring contest for a couple minutes before continuing to yell obscenities at each other.

Yeah… it wasn’t pretty.

But Nesta was determined to not let it bother her. Tonight was going to be great, Cassian or not.

“Is you-know-who going to be there?” Nesta turned the conversation around, stealing a glance at her roommate.

She scowled. “I don’t know. Even if she was, she doesn’t know my fucking name.”

“You don’t know that,” Nesta countered.

Emerie gave her a pointed look.

Nesta sighed. “Okay, so she doesn’t know your name. Doesn’t mean you can’t introduce yourself tonight.”

Emerie mumbled an incoherent response.

She’d had a crush on a girl named Mor for several months now. Mor had recently transferred from a different university, and she was a fellow junior. Emerie first saw her when she was working one day at the on-campus Starbucks. Whenever Mor came in for a drink, Emerie was sure to be the one to get her order. And she always made Mor’s drink (a medium mocha latte). It was quite adorable when Emerie came home from work to gush about how Mor’s hair was particularly beautiful that day. Adorable and obnoxiously frustrating.

Nesta wasn’t big on love. Sure, her guilty pleasure included romance novels and smutty fanfiction, but that was fiction. In her own life, she hated romantic gestures, declarations of love, and physical affection. She’d never been the type to have crushes or pursue a potential suitor. After watching her parent’s marriage crumble right before her eyes, Nesta didn’t put much thought into romantic relationships. To her, it was work. It took too much effort and from what she’d seen, the outcome was never worth it.

Sometimes, Nesta wasn’t sure if she knew how to love. Sure, she loved her sisters, but that was the extent of it (with the exception of Amren and Emerie). The thought terrified her just as much as it empowered her.

There were rare moments when Nesta would see Amren and Varian laughing together and something in her would ache. For what, she wasn’t sure. Affection, love, trust, acceptance, peace, comfort. All of the above.

“Okay, are we ready to go?” Emerie called to back to Nesta, shaking her from her thoughts. She took one last glance in the mirror before turning the light off.

“Let’s do it.”

The apartment was decorated perfectly. The lights were dim, the atmosphere enticing. Nesta was impressed but not at all surprised at Amren’s immaculate skills as an interior design major. They were friends from high school, and they’d remained thick as thieves since.

The place wasn’t huge, but it had enough space for dancing and drinking and that’s all that mattered. There were probably twenty people in there. The music was dark and thrilling, the bass reverberating in Nesta’s chest as she maneuvered her way through the bodies in the basement.

She recognized most of the people here, only a few unfamiliar faces in the crowd. Amren’s boyfriend, Varian, was in a mermaid costume as he walked around offering people drinks. He caught Nesta’s eye and shot her a grin, his hands gesturing to the coconut shell bra on his chest. She shook her head and chuckled before swiping… candy corn Jell-O shots?

With a grimace, Nesta tilted her head back and swallowed the damn thing.

It was disgusting.

“Nesta!” a familiar voice yelled from behind her. She didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

Rhysand approached her, his strut a little less smooth than normal thanks to the many drinks he must’ve had. But when she saw him, she could barely stop herself from laughing out loud.

He was dressed as an angel. Rhysand fucking Elvert was an angel.

 I’m not drunk enough for this.

He wore a white toga, his tanned chest bare for all the women and men to drool over. Cheap translucent wings protruded from his back, and a golden halo in the form of a headband hung over his head. He was giving her a cheeky smile as he stopped in front of her.

“Nesta, my best friend!” Well, that confirmed his inebriated state. “How are you? More importantly, where’s that sister of yours?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. She should have known he was going to ask about Feyre.

Her younger sister had visited Nesta several times since she started Pryth U a couple years back. They had the unfortunate luck of encountering Rhysand while Nesta was showing Feyre around campus. And of course, as Rhysand does with every living, breathing woman, he tried to woo her with his fuckboy ways. Feyre held her own, but that changed when Nesta brought her to a small dorm party later that night. When Nesta was returning from the bathroom, she found them dancing. Well, dancing was putting it nicely. There was a lot of hip movement to say the least.

After ripping them apart, Nesta threatened Rhys that if he got near her sister again, he was a dead man. Feyre, thoroughly embarrassed, had no other choice but to follow Nesta back to her dormitory. Once in her room, Nesta chastised Feyre for “fraternizing with the enemy.” Nesta had told Feyre stories about Cassian before, so she was up to date on that situation. Feyre didn’t seem to care, claiming that she didn’t even think Rhysand was that attractive.

And though Nesta knew that was a flat-out lie, she let it go.

So, when Feyre visited a semester later, Nesta was careful not to mention her visit to anyone, especially not Rhys. They weren’t friends per se, but her rivalry with Cassian made Rhysand a fixture in her life (one that she never asked for). They would chat during class or in passing, and their relationship was lighthearted. Nothing like the tension between her and Cassian. After the first time Feyre had visited, Rhysand always managed to find a way to bring her up in conversation.

But to Nesta’s dismay, Rhysand had miraculously found out about her visit. Ignoring Nesta’s threat, Rhys shamelessly tried to pursue Feyre for the second time. Even though Nesta was careful not to mention her visit, Rhysand had miraculously found out and pursued her. That time, he blatantly flirted with her right in front of Nesta. But it was more than flirting. Nesta could tell that Rhysand was acting differently than when he flirted with other girls. Nesta had been around him long enough to watch him flirt and seduce many women, and it was different with Feyre. This behavior continued every time Feyre visited, which was just five instances. Yet Rhysand seemed strangely attached to Feyre. Nesta never asked him about it… Gods forbid Rhysand Elvert becomes her brother-in-law.

“She’s great,” Nesta said truthfully. “Just started dating a new guy.”

His face fell for a fraction of a second, so quickly that Nesta could have imagined it. “Does he treat her well?”

“I’ve never met him, but from what she’s told me, yes.”

He seemed to consider this before merely nodding in response.

“Where’s that annoying friend of yours?” Nesta changed the subject.

Why do you care? Nesta could practically hear Emerie’s voice in her head. She ignored it.

“Cassian? That bastard’s somewhere in here.” Rhysand chuckled before he suddenly got excited. “Oh! You’ll never guess what he dressed as.”

Nesta gave him an unamused look. “Let me take a wild guess: the devil.”

Rhysand’s shoulders dropped and he pouted. “You take the fun out of everything.”

“Or perhaps you’re more predictable than you think.”

“Bet you can’t guess what Azriel is.”

Nesta didn’t even have to think twice. “Azriel dressed as Sherlock Holmes because he has a shred of self-respect. As opposed to you two buffoons.”

And because he told me a week ago, Nesta thought to herself.

Rhysand opened his mouth to retort, but he was quickly interrupted.

“Did someone say Cassian Bechalot?”

Nesta’s fists balled tightly at the mere sound of his voice. She plastered on a sickly-sweet smile and turned to face Cassian.

She did her best not waver at the sight of him. Even Nesta couldn't deny that Cassian was an objectively attractive man. She would never admit it, though.

His long hair was disheveled as always, a couple loose strands framing his annoyingly sharp jaw. He wore a deep red dress shirt, and the fabric looked soft as satin. Several buttons were popped to show off a broad chest and his signature golden chain. The sleeves were rolled up to reveal his inked forearms, the collar popped to show off the thick columns of his neck. And of course, red horns stuck out from the obnoxiously inflated head of his.

But what Nesta wasn’t expecting was the woman on his arm. She looked to be about their age, maybe a year younger. She too wore a devil costume but this time it was a small red dress and a face full of beautiful makeup.

Nesta’s fists tightened even more.

Cassian stopped a couple feet in front of her, his eyes slowly dragging up and down her body. Nesta crossed her arms impatiently until his piercing gaze finally met hers.

“So glad I ran into you, sweetheart," he purred at her. Gods, him and that insufferable nickname. She could choke him. "What do you think of my costume?"

“It suits you,” Nesta replied sarcastically. Then she added, “You guys make quite the couple.”

Cassian frowned, but Nesta paid no mind to him.

“Oh, we didn’t even come here together!” piped in the woman. She gave Cassian a seductive look. “But I certainly hope we’ll be going home together.”

Nesta didn’t bother to hide her distaste. It wasn’t directed toward the friendly woman, rather at the bastard at her side. The obnoxiously sexy bastard.

“Let me guess…” Cassian tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully. Nesta made a show of rolling her eyes. “Hecate?”

 What?

She hadn't expected that.

Nesta did her best to contain her surprise. “You know who Hecate is?”

“Ouch, you didn’t have to say it like that. You wound me, sweetheart.”

She raised a threatening brow. He chuckled deeply and raised his hands in surrender.

"Maybe I'm not as stupid as you think I am."

Nesta snorted. “That’s highly unlikely."

He tilted his head to the side, peering closer at her. “You’re particularly feisty today, aren’t you?”

“I swear to the gods, Cassian, I will rip your head off.”

All he did was laugh her off. If he only knew how serious she was...

Nesta was just about to walk away when Cassian turned to the woman at his side. “Arlia, can you leave us alone for a second?” he grinned mischievously. “I’ll find you after.”

Arlia giggled and nodded, dragging a finger down his arm as she walked away. Leaving Cassian and Nesta alone.

 Great.

Cassian didn't waste a second, closing the distance between them. He loomed several inches above her, something Nesta detested about him. He was large, tall, purely male. Nesta got a whiff of his scent, and she hated how much she loved the smell of him. He always wore the same cologne, not enough to overwhelm but enough to leave Nesta wanting more.

Ugh. He truly was the devil incarnate.

“Is that jealousy I sense?” Cassian clicked his tongue, humor flashing in his hazel eyes.

Nesta choked at his words. "As if."

It was a weak comeback, and she knew it.

He got even closer, their bodies just inches apart now. “Why do you even care who I spend my time with, Nesta? You hate me on a good day.”

“Maybe,” Nesta countered, “that’s because you do nothing but make my life as miserable as possible.”

The temperature in the room seemed to increase several degrees as Nesta stared up at him in contempt. Something unreadable crossed his face as he raised a hand and caressed her cheek, the warmth of his fingers sending tingles to her feet.

“Why do you insist on pushing me away?" Cassian asked, searching her eyes. She was frozen, her throat constricted.

 Because you terrify me.

Nesta shoved that thought deep down before she could even comprehend it, as far as it could possibly go.

"Tell me," Cassian breathed, pushing for an answer. "Is it so hard to admit that maybe I'm not as bad as you want me to be?"

 Yes.

Nesta was nearly trembling, her mouth unable to form a single word. She could only stare up at him with wide eyes and parted lips as he pushed her limits.

"Is it so hard to admit that maybe, just maybe, you actually like me?"

 Enough.

Nesta snapped.

“Like you? Fuck that, Cassian! You walk around campus like you’re the most desirable man on earth,” Nesta fumed, just the sight of him enough to boil her blood. “You treat women like shit, you humiliate me at least once a month, and you’re only at Pryth U thanks to some athletic scholarship.”

Her voice had gotten louder and people were definitely watching them, but she didn’t give a shit.

Cassian’s eyes darkened at her words, and he got another step closer, forcing Nesta’s back against the cool edge of the table behind her. He rested both hands on each side of her body and caged her in. She didn’t dare back down, levelling his hard glare.

“Do you think I’m desirable, Nesta?” he asked menacingly, his voice low. Quiet enough for only her to hear and demanding enough to get an answer.

Nesta suddenly became hyperaware of Cassian’s body so close to hers. She could see his chest moving up and down, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. His bicep brushed against her arm sending a shot of electricity through her body.

Nesta didn’t know what to say. She could only stand there and watch as Cassian huffed out a humorless laugh after a couple moments passed.

“Do you know how hypocritical you are?” Cassian asked, pulling his body away from hers and leaving Nesta with a cold feeling. He raised his voice with frustration. “No one knows who Nesta Archeron is. No, they only know you by the ‘Ice Queen.’ You sit on your damn throne and look at everyone like they’re below you. What’s so great about you, Nesta, huh? Because I’ve known you for years and still haven’t been able to find a single redeeming quality.”

He practically yelled the last sentence. She wanted to cry, throw something at him, walk away, scream until she lost her voice. But she didn't do anything. Nesta just stared at him as everything in her shut down until she just... stopped. Numbness overtook her.

Cassian was watching her, his chest heaving. Something like regret flashed over his face.

Nesta blinked, shattering the little world her and Cassian were in, looking past him and into the adjoining room.

Everyone was staring at them with wide eyes and open mouths. The entire apartment was silent, and it was painfully clear that every single person had just heard them fight.

 Just my fucking luck.

Nesta didn’t pay attention to anyone as she stormed off. As far away from him as possible.

She heard Varian tell everyone to mind their own business before blasting the music. The onlookers were happy to oblige and just like that, they were dancing without a care in the world.

Amren was leaning against the glass door that led to the outdoor patio when Nesta rushed outside for air. She heard her friend follow her from behind.

It was calmer out here, the loud bass of the music fading into the background. The moon was full, and that gave Nesta a small piece of solace.

She collapsed onto a plastic chair, her body sinking down. She didn't have to say a word as Amren held out a bottle of Tito's.

Nesta took it from her and didn’t even think as she took several gulps of the vodka. Her throat burned with every swallow, eyes watering. She took a final swig and gave it back to Amren, wiping her mouth and grimacing.

“So…” Amren started, glancing over at Nesta who was looking down at the ground. “Should we talk about what just happened in there?"

"No."

Amren got quiet and the two simply sat in silence. Nesta closed her eyes, relishing the cold breeze that washed over her face. She could smell the remnants of a bonfire from Amren's neighbors next door. After a few minutes, Amren straightened and held her hand out to Nesta.

“C’mon. We’re gonna dance.”

It wasn't a question. And Nesta wasn't about to say no and risk getting into an argument with Amren. Gods knew how taxing that would be. Anyway, the alcohol was already beginning to course through her blood. She would be on the dance floor in the next twenty minutes either way.

As Nesta took Amren's hand and retreated back inside, a feeling of euphoria began to enter her body. She happily invited it.

Nesta didn’t know how long they danced for. Long enough for her hair to stick to the back of her neck and her throat to be parched. Long enough for "Toxic" by Britney Spears to have played enough times and gotten stuck in her head.

But not long enough for her to forget about the events that took place just minutes prior to downing that vodka.

She signaled to Amren that she was going to get some water. Her friend only nodded her head and continued rolling her hips to the beat.

As Nesta poured herself a cup of water, she scanned the room. She scanned it until she found who she was looking for.

Nesta locked eyes with Cassian from across the room. She hadn't been thinking of him much as she and Amren danced to every song that played. He was on the outskirts of the dancing crowd. Him and Arlia. The song was loud, fast. And yet his hands were snug around Arlia’s waist, hers stroking his chest as they swayed slowly. Not an inch separated their bodies.

She couldn’t read the emotion in his eyes. His face was blank.

Nesta held his stare until he broke away.

To kiss Arlia.

And he didn’t just kiss her. It wasn’t an innocent peck. He pulled her into him, capturing her lips with his own. Nesta watched as Arlia gripped the collar of his shirt and molded her body into his, their hips grinding together.

Cassian opened his eyes even as he continued to kiss Arlia. He looked directly at Nesta as his mouth moved against another woman’s. Nesta fought the urge to go up to him and smack him across the gods-damn face.

She failed.

But before she could even take a step, someone grabbed her arm from behind. She looked behind her shoulder.

Amren.

“You don’t want to do that, Ness,” Amren told her with a hard tone.

“But – ”

“But nothing,” Amren interrupted Nesta, her words final. “How about we do something to take your mind off it?” She didn’t even wait for her answer before calling over her boyfriend. “Varian!”

Just like a loyal puppy, Varian appeared at her side in a second, the end of his mermaid tale dragging on the floor. “What’s up, love?”

“Nesta needs a good distraction,” she explained, gesturing not-so-subtly to where Cassian stood. “Thoughts?”

Varian’s eyes brightened and he didn’t even hesitate before miraculously yelling over the deafening music, “Truth or dare!”

Amren threw her hands up with a groan and gave him an exasperated look as if to say, Are we thirteen years old?

But it was too late. Everyone around them was already cheering and chanting Varian's name.

Nesta levelled a look at her best friend.

Amren raised her palms up. “Hey, it’ll keep you from strangling Cassian to death,” she pointed out the silver lining.

Nesta couldn’t argue with that, so she begrudgingly followed her friend to the couch. A big group of people followed them from behind.

Five minutes later, everyone was situated into a large circle. Some were sprawled on the furniture while others sat on the floor. All of them were happily drunk and way too enthusiastic to be playing truth or dare.

“Truth or dare?” Amren started, her question directed at Azriel who was sitting a couple people away from Nesta. He was dressed as Sherlock, just as he’d told her he would.

“Dare.”

Thus began an entertaining game of truth or dare. Azriel had to do a body shot off of Rhys. Rhys had to give Helion a lap dance. Helion was forced to let Lucien do his face makeup. Lucien had to take off Mor’s socks with his teeth. Mor had to make an obscene call to a random phone number. Emerie chose truth and was forced to reveal her wildest sex fantasy (a drunken Mor offered to make that dream a reality).

Halfway into the game, Nesta had shed herself of her gown, leaving her in only a small black dress she'd put on underneath in case she got warm. It was a combination of the body heat, alcohol, and tension between her and Cassian.

The entire game, Nesta did her best to avoid eye contact with Cassian. He was sitting directly across from her in the circle, Arlia at his side. Nesta was doing fine, enjoying their childish antics until it was Emerie’s turn to ask someone.

Nesta wasn’t completely surprised when her friend turned to her and asked, “Truth or dare?”

Nesta saw the mischievous look on Emerie’s face as she proposed the question. She had no fucking idea what she had planned, but there was no way Nesta was falling into her trap.

“Truth,” Nesta decided to play it safe.

But then Cassian had to open his fucking mouth.

“Boring,” he said loudly, faking a yawn.

Nesta turned her head to face him for the first time during the game. Her heart pounded at the sight of him. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, holding his chin in his hands as he scrutinized her. His eyes were glossy, and he was clearly drunk like the rest of them.

“It’s in the name of the game.”

“Or maybe you’re just scared,” Cassian countered.

“I’m not,” Nesta gritted her teeth, staring him down.

Cassian merely raised a brow as if to say, Sure, you aren’t.

No one said anything.

“Fine,” Nesta snapped just to spite him. “Dare.”

Cassian smiled triumphantly and sat back as Emerie clapped with excitement.

"Give her a good one!" someone called out.

Emerie turned back to Nesta with a troubled look and mouthed, Forgive me.

Forgive her? What the fuck was she talking about –

“I dare you to kiss Cassian.”

Nesta stopped breathing.

The entire room was silent as everyone stared at Nesta, gauging her reaction. She felt Cassian's eyes on her.

Nesta broke the silence and burst out laughing, a snort leaving her nose. A very unattractive snort. “You think I’m going to kiss him?”

Others around the circle laughed nervously, unsure where this was going to go.

She looked across the circle to see Cassian staring at her. But where she was expecting a smug smile was a clenched jaw and burning eyes.

You’re not scared, huh? he mouthed at her silently. He was mocking her.

In your dreams, she snapped back.

Cassian crooked his finger to draw Nesta closer. "C'mere."

She snorted. Again. “If you want to do this dare, you’re the one coming to me.”

Only a couple feet separated them from opposite sides of the circle. It was petty, but she didn't care.

He looked at her incredulously. “Really, sweetheart?”

Nesta shrugged. Cassian narrowed his eyes in response.

“No.”

He was just as stubborn as her. A couple people around the circled groaned – they knew the beginning of a Nesta-Cassian stand-off when they saw one.

“Are you guys really fighting about who has to walk the five steps it takes to get to each other?” Emerie asked, astounded. Neither of them answered.

“Why don’t you meet in the middle of the circle?” Varian suggested meekly.

“No,” they both snapped at the same time, glaring at one another when they realized they said the same thing.

Another minute passed of them staring each other down.

Cassian was the first to speak again. “If you don’t come over here, you won’t finish the dare.”

Nesta gritted her teeth. He was right. She fucking hated when he was right.

 Just get it over with.

“Fine,” she seethed, standing up from the floor. She turned to Amren. “Give me another shot. I’m not drunk enough for this.”

The last thing Nesta wanted was the memory of kissing Cassian tomorrow morning. She shuddered at the thought.

“Make that two,” Cassian added.

Amren returned just a second later with a full shot glass in each hand. Neither Cassian nor Nesta hesitated as they downed the drink.

Nesta willed her legs to move, her stride confident despite the overwhelming feeling that she was going to fall thanks to her wobbly knees. Cassian’s feet were flat on the floor as he sat on the edge of the sofa. Nesta didn’t allow herself to falter for a second as she straddled Cassian and sat on his lap, their faces just inches away.

The crowd whooped and whistled. Nesta ignored it.

Nesta was already intoxicated by his scent, but she did her best to ignore it. Cassian gripped her hips to keep her balanced on him, his touch burning into her skin. She was eye-level with him, their faces inches away. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek, and chills went down her arms.

Something in Nesta ignited when Cassian subtly rubbed his thumb over her hip under the fabric of her dress. He seemed to sense the change in her, his nostrils flaring as he moved his thumb over her skin again, leaving a burning trail in its wake.

The world fell away. It was just them. Nesta’s lips involuntarily parted when Cassian’s other hand rested on her bare thigh. His fingers inched higher and higher, and Nesta opened her legs slightly wider. Cassian exhaled a harsh breath.

The spot between her legs was molten hot, her legs numb with pleasure. She slid her hand over his shoulder, and she traced the thick columns of his neck with her manicured nails. He tilted his head for her, and Nesta wanted nothing more than to lick and bite and suck his bare neck.

 What the fuck is he doing to me?

All of Nesta’s reservations fell away as she grinded her ass in his lap, unnoticeable to anyone watching, but enough to feel Cassian’s hardness slide under her core. His eyes flashed to hers. Nesta had never seen a man look at her the way he was.

Then, so fast that he didn’t even know what was happening, Nesta leaned in and pressed her lips against his. Cassian tried to deepen the kiss, but Nesta pulled away and was out of his lap before he could do anything to stop it.

She threw her hands up and threw a smirk over her shoulder at Cassian. “I did it!”

Everyone cheered, laughter filling the room as Nesta started walking back to her respective seat.

But she didn’t get far.

“Are fucking with me?” Cassian seethed from behind her. She turned around to face him.

His jaw was clenched with anger. His whole demeanor had changed, his presence threatening. Nesta watched as his fists clenched and unclenched, Cassian's telltale sign that he was not happy.

“Aw, were you expecting a date too?” Nesta cooed at him sarcastically.

 Point for Nesta.

People laughed, but Cassian boomed, "That's it," silencing everyone else. Including Nesta.

He walked straight toward her with purpose. Nesta gasped as he carefully but firmly grabbed her by the nape of the neck, his other hand splaying across the small of her back to bring their bodies together. Their lips brushed together, and Nesta's long golden hair provided a small curtain of privacy from the onlookers.

Cassian's breath smelled of whiskey, and it nearly consumed her. She looked up into his eyes and let out a breath of air. A growl released from his throat.

"Fuck it," he murmured before crushing his lips to hers.

Nesta's hand instinctively reached for him, her fingers curling in the soft tufts of his dark hair. Cassian moaned into her mouth, opening his lips and deepening the kiss. Nesta could barely stand, her tongue moving against his in a seductive, wet dance. She tasted the alcohol on him, and she became further drunk on him. Cassian curled his arm around her waist to hold her up, consequently pressing their bodies harder together. Nesta's nipples pebbled through the thin fabric of her dress as her breasts ground against his broad chest. He nibbled on her bottom lip, teasing her, driving her mad with need. She let out a whimper, and she felt Cassian's lips turn up in a satisfied smile as they continued to kiss roughly.

A loud cough had them pulling away from each other.

Nesta's cheeks turned bright red when she realized they were still standing in the middle of the circle, their friends looking up at them with horror and confusion and excitement and disbelief. She looked back at Cassian whose lips were swollen from their kisses. He didn't seem to care that there were people around them, his eyes locked solely on her.

"So... uh, I think it's Nesta's turn to ask," Rhysand said dumbly, staring up at her like she had two heads.

The last thing Nesta wanted to do was sit back down and play truth or dare. No, she wanted to drag Cassian upstairs and finish what they -

"No can do," Cassian said plainly, grabbing Nesta's hand and pulling her with him as he made his way to the stairs. "We have some unfinished business."

Well, at least Cassian was on the same page as her for the first time.

Nesta didn't even look behind her as she willingly followed Cassian up the stairs and into a more private room.

He opened the first door they passed by, revealing the guest bedroom. Nesta walked inside, and he closed and locked the door behind them.

Nesta's mind was racing. What did they just do? Why did she let him kiss her like that?

"Stop."

Nesta looked up from her hands to where Cassian stood. He had a determined look on his face.

"Stop what?"

"Overthinking this."

Gods, he saw right through her.

"We shouldn't have done that," Nesta said quietly.

"Why?" Cassian pushed.

"We hate each other." Why did it sound like she was trying to convince herself of that?

"Do we?"

The question hung in the air as neither one of them said anything. Nesta sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her arms.

"Maybe not hate, but... we can't even stand each other," Nesta let out. She glanced over at him. "It's not like we have feelings for each other."

Cassian didn't say anything. She scoffed.

"You're telling me that you can honestly say you've thought of me in that sort of way?"

"Every fucking day, sweetheart."

Nesta's heart stopped. "I'm serious."

"Me too," he told her. His lips were set in a straight line, his eyes piercing into hers.

"Please, Cass," she said, using the nickname she so rarely used for him. "You fuck other women every week. You've despised me since day one. There's no way in hell."

"I don't hate you, Nesta," he said quietly. She watched as he walked over and took a seat in the rocking chair that faced her. He hesitated before continuing. "I hate how much I fucking think about you. I wake up and my first thought is, 'I wonder what Nesta's doing right now.' I go through my days hoping to run into you." He dragged his hands down his face and laughed at himself. "But you fucking infuriate me, woman. Our conversations are never pleasant. You're the most difficult person I've ever met."

 Oh Gods.

"And as for the women..." he sighed, shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

Nesta waited for him to continue.

Cassian raised his head from his hands and looked her straight in the eye. "I only fuck other women because I can't get you out of my damn head. Because I've never felt this passionate about anyone. Because you confuse the living hell out of me."

He had to be lying. It was Cassian. There was no way he cared for her. She'd seen him look at her all these years, and there had never once been an indicator of such feelings. And of course he was passionate about her: he hated her! Passion wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"What do you possibly think could happen between us?" she asked with an exasperated look. She didn't wait for him to answer. "The only time this," Nesta gestured between them, "could ever happen again is a year from now."

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "This," she moved her hand around. "Halloween. The one day you can pretend to be someone you're not."

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"You and I would never work, Cassian." The words cut through her as she choked them out.

"Why do you keep lying to yourself?" Cassian asked.

"I'm not! We know nothing about each other. We treat each other like shit. It would explode in our faces."

“We don't know anything about each other?" he echoed quietly, a small laugh leaving his lips. "How do you think I knew you were Hecate?"

Nesta didn't say anything. Where was he going with this?

"Maybe,” he started, “it’s because I’ve heard you mention her more times than I can count. Maybe I looked her up one day and read all about her. Maybe I think she's a fucking badass.

"You think we don't know anything about each other? Here are some things you don't know about me: I started that web comic you never shut up about. I finished it in a week, and I wrote down all my favorite parts in case we ever talk about it one day. You have a black cat named Minx, and you even have custom made socks with his picture on it. You want to study creative writing, but you're scared you won't make it as an author." He paused. "You try to hide everything inside, but I can tell how much you feel, Nesta. You aren't heartless, you aren't insensitive. You're just... scared. To trust."

Nesta hadn't told him any of that. Not directly, at least. But he listened. He'd always been listening. Her heart was pounding in her ears as Cassian finally met her gaze with soft eyes. She was terrified, but she held eye contact with him, refusing to look away. This man... he didn't hate her. He never had.

Nesta didn't realize tears were running down her face until her vision blurred and Cassian's face was out of focus.

Fuck. She hated crying, especially in front of people. Especially in front of him.

She dropped her face in her hands to hide her tears. She couldn't see what was happening but just a second later, she felt the bed sink down with another weight. Warm hands grasped her body, pulling her into a hard body. Cassian leaned down to brush his lips against her ear.

"Sweetheart," he whispered. Nesta didn't say anything. "Look at me."

His gentle voice melted something within her. She tried to inconspicuously wipe her tears before lifting her head up and meeting his gaze.

His lips turned up in a small smile, and he brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Cassian put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face up until their lips touched in the gentlest kiss she'd ever had.

This time, Nesta didn't hesitate as she kissed Cassian back.

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

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[welcometophu]

Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 12

Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel

Chapter 12

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Pels looks up The Dog Shack on Saturday morning, trying to find something about them online. She learns that they’re in Unity (which she knew) and she finds the phone number to call, but while there are plenty of reviews online, she can’t find a menu or a way to order.

So she presses the numbers and makes the call.

“Hello, this is The Dog Shack. How many dogs would you like and what name should the order be under?” a voice sings out cheerfully.

“Just how many and what name?” Pels asks. “There aren’t any options?”

“Ah, you’re a first timer.” She can hear the deep breath that the speaker takes before blurting out, “Our dogs are all mini dogs on a white-bread bun, which are made fresh three days a week. Each dog comes with cheese, meat sauce, and pickled onion, with optional ketchup and mustard. We don’t have any vegetarian options, and the cheese is a shredded Vermont sharp because our owner doesn’t like New York sharps and thinks cheese sauce is a copout unless it’s made fresh and we don’t have time for that. The wait time will be about fifteen minutes for us to prep your order, and we take cash, credit, or school dining dollars at the counter when you come to pick up. Your order will be packed in foil first, then a biodegradable cardboard carton which we hope you recycle. Each dog costs only $1.50, and you can get ten for $12.”

“Oh.” Pels has no idea how filling a mini dog could be, and at that price they seem like they must be small. “I’ll take… four? And do you have fries or anything?”

“Do you want your fries topped the same as your dogs?”

“Sure. Can I get ketchup on the side for both?” Pels has no idea what she’s doing, but it sounds good anyway, and in the end it sounds like maybe she’s getting breakfast and lunch both for under $10 total, which is a good thing.

Fifteen minutes later she’s waiting in line at the small shack, and ten minutes after that she’s already finding a spot in the stands to sit while teams from four different colleges warm up on the track below. She opens the first cardboard container and takes out a piping hot mini dog and takes a careful bite, meat sauce and cheese dripping back into the container below.

She burns the roof of her mouth, but she thinks it might be worth it, because it really does taste so damned good.

“Isn’t that your friend’s friend’s girlfriend?” Dad murmurs, nudging her shoulder to get her attention.

Where…? Oh. There, standing at the lowest level right below where Pels sits, looking up at her. Cass has her hair in a high ponytail and is wearing a denim jacket with embroidered flowers along the shoulders, her hands shoved into the pockets. She doesn’t seem ashamed to be caught staring.

Pels lifts one hand, then gestures to the seat Dad occupies since to Cass it should look empty.

Cass’s body language is a clear huff of “well, fine” before she climbs the stands and cautiously takes the seat next to Pels. “You’re Nate’s friend,” Cass says.

“One of them,” Pels agrees. She gets the feeling that Nate knows everyone but doesn’t have a lot of friends, which seems almost as sad as knowing no one and having few friends. Maybe even more sad. “And you’re Dax’s girlfriend.”

Cass makes a small noise and pointedly looks down at the track, where Nate and Dax are stretching side by side, talking.

“Not much of a talker, is she?” Dad says.

Pels takes another bite of hot dog. If she’s not talking, she might as well eat.

Two dogs disappear for breakfast, and by the time the first races are starting she’s working on the fries. She burps and is pretty sure she’ll be tasting cheesy meat sauce for the next several hours; thankfully it’s a good kind of taste.

“Hey there.” Shane slides onto the bench on her other side, Jess just beyond him. His cane clatters against the metal, and his hand brushes against Pels’s knee as he reaches for it to set it back within reach. “Did we miss anything?”

“It’s a track meet,” Cass says sharply. “We’ll be sitting around and waiting all day for five minutes of running that will be over before we blink.”

“If that’s how you feel about it, we can just text you when the race is coming up and you can go do something else if you’d rather,” Pels responds before she thinks about it.

Cass closes her mouth, lips pursed tightly.

Jess leans across Shane. “I told Shane that you’d been watching practices, and that you were going to cheer Nate on today. So we thought we’d come lend our voices.”

Cass huffs. “I know why I’ve been watching practice. What’s your reason? You know Nate’s not—”

“It’s peaceful.” Pels cuts her off before she can get into a full rant. “And why are you so angry about it? Nate’s my friend. It’s nice up here, and it isn’t crowded when they’re practicing. I like coming up here to sit in the sun and work.”

Shane leans in close on her other side, his knee and hip pressed against her. “Ignore her. She’s always cranky. Don’t let her drag you into whatever’s got up her ass.”

“I can hear you,” Cass snaps.

“Then try being nice,” Shane counters. “Or go sit somewhere else.”

It’s different from watching practice. When more people wedge into the bench, Jess moves to sit in front of Shane instead, leaning forward as she cups her hands around her mouth and calls out to cheer on a runner that Pels doesn’t recognize.

“Hey.” Shane nudges her again, his hand covering hers where it rests on her knee. “Is this okay?”

Um.

The loudspeaker goes off, but Pels doesn’t process the words, all too aware of Shane’s hand on hers, and the way his fingers dip to thread between hers.

“Nate and Dax are heading to line up.” Shane points as Jess calls out both names loudly. Nate waves back at them, while Dax just looks up, brow furrowed.

Pels waves back with her free hand because it seems like the right thing to do. Her other hand is too warm, and her stomach is doing little flip-flops like maybe the dogs and fries were a bad idea. She still has half of them left for later, sitting on the floor by her feet. Maybe she’ll offer them to someone else, if her stomach doesn’t improve. She can’t decide if this is bad or not.

“This one is the 1500,” Jess says. “It’s short for a long distance runner. I think they’ll be doing a 5k today, too. I don’t know if this meet has a 10k; those are a little more boring to watch, since it’s basically a half hour of running around the track. They’re usually the last event of the day, while everyone else is cleaning up.”

“Dax said he’s running the 1500 and 5k today,” Cass says tightly. “The 5k is mid-afternoon.”

Shane squeezes Pels’s hand. “They’re going to kill it,” he says.

Her hand is warm. Not overheated, not on fire, just comfortably warm. And her stomach is settling, slowly, although it still feels like butterflies might have taken root. Or maybe bees. Yes, bees, buzzing around but also building a honeycomb sweetness that spreads through her limbs.

Who knew holding hands could feel so… nice.

The loudspeaker burbles again, and the runners resolve into a single line across the track. Nate stands next to Dax, tall and lanky, bouncing on his toes as he shakes his arms. Most of the runners look like Nate—thin and rangy, some shorter than others. Dax has a heavier build, with a longer torso and shorter legs. He looks out of place on the field, both in build and in the way he stands quietly with no outward energy.

A sharp noise sounds, and the runners all crouch in position, and with a popping sound, they’re off.

They crowd together, and for a moment it’s hard to figure out who’s who. Pels sees a mass of jerseys and tries to pick out the white with gold and purple trim that are Nate and Dax. She holds her breath as they go down the long, straight length, and as they enter the first curve she realizes that they’ve moved from across the track into a small pack in the two inner lanes. She finally finds Dax in the middle of the pack, his curls just long enough to bounce with every step. Nate is second from the front, edging away from the pack, just behind the frontrunner dressed in red and blue.

For the first time, Pels notices Nate’s running shoes, which are a vivid gold, shining with every step, matching the stripes on his jersey.

“Go Nate! Go Dax!” Jess screams, her hands cupped around her mouth like a megaphone.

Pels realizes she’s gripping Shane tightly as the first minute passes and the first lap completes. She glances at him, and he only smiles and squeezes her fingers gently as if to say that it’s fine. She holds on tight and turns her attention back to the race.

The runner in red and blue keeps inching away from the pack, but Nate keeps up with him, staying just a step behind, so close that Pels is afraid they could trip over each other. She can see the way the runner at the lead glances back as if to see if Nate’s still there, and he always is. They move away from the main pack, and Dax moves up, sliding into the third position at the head of the middle group. Two of the runners are falling behind, the pack leaving them as they keep running through the second and third laps.

As the final lap begins, the pack has stretched out, and the results look clear cut. The runner in red and blue picks up the pace again, his face flushed, and Pels imagines she can see the stridor of his breath.

From behind, Dax puts on a burst of speed, moving into the second lane as he approaches Nate. But Nate must hear him coming, because he speeds up as well, passing the runner who was in first before Dax can. They both go flying by him as if he’s standing still, and Nate crosses the finish line just ahead of Dax. They fall on each other on the other side, holding each other up and patting each other’s backs as the crowd screams.

Cass exhales roughly.

“That’s our boys!” Jess shouts, her voice hoarse from yelling. “Go PHU!”

That was possibly the most intense three and a half minutes of Pels’s life. As the adrenalin fades, she realizes she’s still anchored with Shane’s hand around hers, and the liquid honey in her gut has warmed her all the way up to her eyeballs. She’s light-headed; as she slowly disengages and stands, she wavers until Dad props her upright.

Shane grabs his cane, bracing himself to rise as well. He reaches one hand for her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’m just going to—” Pels is blocked in with Shane on one side and Cass on the other. She stands carefully so she doesn’t step on the food she has resting at her feet, and she can’t go down because Jess is in front of them.

No one is sitting directly behind them, and Pels carefully climbs up to the next row in the stands. “I’m going to go pee,” she says bluntly, and heads for the stairs. She thinks there’s conversation behind her, but she doesn’t stick around to find out what it might be.

They’re sitting in her usual spot for watching practice, on the opposite side of the track from the building. She makes her way around the perimeter, and by the time she gets inside she’s breathing more evenly. “What even was that?” she grumbles.

“Were you flustered by holding hands, or by the race?” Dad grins when she glares at him. “Holding hands, then. That’s called attraction, Pels. Which you feel for Shane. Your soulmate.”

“I don’t like it.” It’s a lie, of course. That warm honey sensation was nice, just confusing. And overwhelming. Maybe she does like it, but she hates it at the same time, like something’s just slipped out of her control again.

Being on her own she can control. When it’s just her—well, and Dad—she knows what to expect. This is throwing in all kinds of variables and turning her life from simple addition into calculus. And unlike some people who are math majors, she really doesn’t enjoy calculus.

She pushes open the door of the bathroom and waits for a turn at the sink so she can wash her face and push at her hair as if she can do anything about the curls. She fingercombs them, taking them from windswept to just slightly messy, and pats everything back in place.

“Here.”

Cass stands to her left, a hair tie dangling from one fingertip. When Pels just looks at her, Cass pushes her hand closer. “Take it,” she orders. “Do something about that mop or when the wind kicks up again you’re going to lose an eye from it blowing all over. Or someone else will.” As soon as Pels cautiously takes the hair tie, Cass stands with her hands on her hips, head tilted as she looks her over critically. “Your hair is such an odd length. Do you style it?”

“It doesn’t really hold a style, so I just pick a length and run with it, and try to remember to keep it from getting too long. I’m lucky it doesn’t frizz.” It’s more like ringlets as long as she remembers to keep it from going wild. Many ringlets. Shorter ones for bangs and gradually longer down the side of her face. She can just barely pull it back into a ponytail, but it does keep the bulk of it away from her face, which isn’t a bad thing. “Thanks.”

“Hmph.” Cass tugs the scrunchy out of her own hair, running her fingers through it before braiding it quickly and tying it again. “You need all the help you can get.”

“Rude,” Dad says.

“You don’t need to take it out on me,” Pels tells her. The bathroom is less crowded now, so Pels turns to lean against the sink next to Cass, figuring if someone needs it, they’ll tell her to move. “I get it. You’re cranky.”

Cass pulls lip gloss out of her bag and leans closer to the mirror, pursing her lips before carefully putting it on. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know what you think about me—”

“You don’t like Dax doing track.”

Cass straightens quickly, hand falling as she looks at Pels. No, not looking—staring. Pels feels as if Cass is trying to look through her and see her squishy guts on the inside. Pels crosses her arms and glares back.

“I’m right,” Pels says.

“So what if you are?” Cass counters.

“You could talk about it.” Pels shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, I already know you’re angry, so it’s not like you’ll lose any points if you bitch about it. And you’ve already got acting like a complete bitch nailed so far, so.” She shrugs again. “Just go for it already.”

“I just don’t understand why he has to take up another sport,” Cass mutters under her breath. She puts away the lip gloss and pulls out mascara, touching up her lashes. “He’s so busy with football in the fall, and with everything going on—” She cuts off. “I just thought that maybe we’d get a break this spring. That we could spend more time together. And now he’s got practice every afternoon and he’s spending extra time working with Nate, and he hasn’t got any time left for me.”

“So you’re jealous,” Pels says quietly.

“You do understand human emotion,” Dad observes.

It’s always easier to see something from the outside, especially something like this. Besides. Being angry because something’s out of her control is a feeling that Pels is intimately familiar with, and it’s not difficult to recognize it in Cass.

“Dax is really good at it,” Pels says slowly. “I mean, he and Nate took first and second in that race and made it look easy. When they started passing that guy, he couldn’t keep up. There was nothing anyone else could do, and it looked like if he’d tried, Dax and Nate would’ve passed him anyway. Aren’t you proud of your boyfriend?”

“Hmph.” Cass tucks her mascara away and leans on the edge of the sink, looking down.

Pels isn’t sure if sad is better than angry.

“I thought you were all tiny, sharp angles.” Cass’s voice is sharp, but muted. “Where’s this sympathy coming from?”

“Oh, I suck at people, and yes, I know what it’s like to be angry all the time. Which means you are a person I suck a little less at getting because you might not be small, but you try to keep a barbed wire fence around yourself,” Pels shoots back. She smirks because Cass’s scowl means she’s got it right. “Besides. I like Nate. He’s not trying to steal your boyfriend. I don’t think he could if he tried. I mean. Would any guy who doesn’t love you to the moon and back put up with your shit?”

Dad laughs loud enough that Pels winces. “Now who’s being rude?” He sounds proud of her for it.

Cass huffs. “Whatever. I need a coffee. Come on.”

Somehow Pels ends up with a coffee in each hand while Cass carries two as well. When they make their way back to the bleachers, Cass shoves one of her cups towards Jess. “Here,” she says, before dropping a small bag of sugar, cream, and stirrers on the bench next to her.

Pels gives one of hers to Shane, then opens her cup enough to inhale. It’s a small cup, which isn’t nearly enough caffeine in her opinion, but it is warm on her hands. She cradles it, enjoying the warmth more than the taste for the moment.

Shane adds cream to his coffee, while Jess adds both sugar and cream. As Shane sits back, he leans closer to Pels, and she leans into his warmth before she thinks better of it. Shane shifts his coffee to the hand further from Pels, then lifts his arm.

“He’s offering to keep you warm,” Dad points out.

“Oh,” Pels exhales. She slides the few millimeters closer to Shane, his warmth heavy against her side as he drops his arm over her shoulder and somehow tucks her even closer.

It’s not awful.

It might even be good.

Jess is screaming at someone in purple and gold that Pels doesn’t recognize, standing up and punching the air when they finish the race in second place. Pels keeps close to Shane to avoid being touched, relaxing as Jess settles down again.

Jess somehow seems to know more people on the track team than any of them, and she keeps up a running commentary through the afternoon. She even manages to pull Cass into conversation, begrudging as it seems. Pels uses the time to just watch them all, and eventually eat the remains of her hot dogs and fries, which are still somehow good when cold.

By the time the final race comes up, and Nate and Dax line up for the 5k, Pels can almost ignore the fact that her butt is cold and a little numb from sitting too long. She knows there’s only fifteen minutes more to watch, and around the track most of the teams are already cleaning and packing gear.

As they start, there are more than twenty runners on the track, spread out across, bunching up as they all try and make it to the inner lane. Somehow Nate and Dax are in the middle of the pack. Pels clenches her hands together tightly to see them there, walled in by bodies all around them. But both Dax and Nate seem relaxed, running easily through the first lap.

It’s not an exciting race for most of it. There comes a point about halfway through where some of the pack fall behind, maybe a half dozen racers trailing the rest. Another lap, and a few more fall away, until only a handful remain in a tight group at the head.

One of the racers makes his move with three laps to go, pulling away and putting several paces between himself and the pack. Nate moves up as well, taking the space between him and the pack, and Pels can see the plan clearly after the earlier race. When the final lap begins, Nate starts pushing around the outside, forcing the runner in first to speed up. Dax comes out of the pack, stride lengthening just enough to keep him close to the frontrunners along with one other racer. By halfway through the lap, it’s obvious that unless someone else makes a move now, these four are vying for the top spots.

When they hit the straightaway, Dax somehow seems to go into overdrive, head down just a little as he pushes past both Nate and the other runner. Nate glances at him, and joins him, loping a half step behind him, leaving the others in the dust even as he’s losing ground when Dax somehow sprints through the final run. Dax slows after he crosses the line, and Nate catches up, and together they walk around the ring, Nate’s arm slung across Dax’s shoulder.

Pels joins her friends in jumping up and screaming, because that seems to be the right thing to do.

Cass grabs her phone and fires off a text. “Come on. They’ll meet us at Teas Please, because no one ever seems to have anywhere else to go.”

Dad bumps into Pels, and she stumbles forward, hands reaching out. For a moment she’s afraid she’s either going to fall into Jess or over the bench and crack her head open on the one below, then Shane’s arms wrap around her, pulling her back against him.

“You okay?” he murmurs, breath warm against her ear.

Pels’s cheeks heat up. “Yeah. I’m fine,” she says.

Jess bites her lip and turns away. There’s an uncomfortable twist in Pels’s gut, like she knows she’s done something wrong and it wasn’t even her fault.

“Sometimes I’m a klutz,” she says, which isn’t the whole truth, but isn’t a lie either. Cass wasn’t there for the guardian angel reveal, and Pels isn’t sure she’s ready to be that out to the school about her Talent yet. “Thanks for the save.”

“If I hadn’t, Jess would’ve,” Shane says. He grabs his cane, and Pels thinks he’s favoring his leg as he inches down the row to the stairs.

“And that’s my fault,” she mutters. “Good job, pushing people around until they get hurt.”

“If you’d just—”

“Stay out of it,” she hisses under her breath, cutting Dad off. “Don’t try to help.”

“Whatever it is you’re talking about, rest assured that I wasn’t trying to help,” Cass says idly. “But you’re in my way, so just keep moving and we can get out of here.” She gives Pels a little nudge.

They make it out of the bleachers without further mishap. The teams have somehow already managed to leave the field, and Cass is half focused on her phone and half on walking, giving small reports on the status of Nate and Dax as they move along. They have to cross campus entirely to get to Teas Please, and Nate and Dax manage to catch up with them before they do so.

Dax picks Cass up and kisses her, one hand in her hair and one on her ass as Cass wraps her legs around him to hold on. Pels can’t figure out how Cass could possibly be insecure in that relationship.

Nate, on the other hand, wears his heart on his sleeve when he watches the way Dax greets Cass. Despite the smile he pastes on as they walk into Teas Please, Pels can see that he’s still wistful.

God, when she actually looks, apparently she can see people being emotional. She blames this entirely on Dad. She can barely handle her own emotions; she really doesn’t want to have to deal with everyone else’s as well.

Speaking of… Pels twists and looks behind herself. Where the hell did Dad even go? Is she actually being let out on her own?

“I don’t have your table.” Serina looks up as soon as they enter, her brow furrowed. There are bags under her eyes, and she pauses long enough to yawn before she grabs a stack of menus. “How many—” She counts under her breath, then nods quickly. “Okay. Six. I’m sorry, I can’t get the booth, but we can pull a couple tables together in the front. It’s like everyone who was at your meet came in here all at once, and there’s a group from UAlbany at the big back table, and I just—”

“It’s okay.” Nate lays a hand on Serina’s shoulder and she just stops dead, shoulders slumping like a string’s been cut. “Hey,” he says softly. “Have you been sleeping?”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Sometimes. Maybe. Mostly. I don’t know. It’s weird. Everything’s weird, y’know? I’m just kind of tired and over everything, and it’s a bit much, and I just need Carolyn to come back and then everything will be okay. I think I failed a test this week.”

Everyone’s still missing. It’s been a week, and there’s been no sign of Nikita.

And Pels just somehow… forgot.

Not entirely. She’s seen Rory seeming lost without Alaric around, and Kit looking much the same. But it slips from her mind in the times between, not affecting her the same way it affects them.

She feels bad about that.

“They’ll be back,” Nate says firmly. “I’m sure of it. Carolyn would never leave you and Kit behind.”

“Besides,” Dax says. “Orson’s not settled. I can still feel his unfinished business.” He taps the side of his head. “Which means Alaric has to come back, or I’ll kill him myself, then yell at his ghost.”

“Honestly,” Cass mutters. “Can’t we have one meal without drama?”

“Hey.” Shane catches Pels’s hand. “Can we talk for a minute? Before we go in?”

They’re already in, crowded into the space around the podium at the front of the restaurant. But Pels nods and lets Shane tug her back outside, as the others go on to claim space inside Teas Please.

“I forgot,” she says with a low sigh. “Nikita’s missing, and I forgot.”

“Are you worried?” Shane asks, and when she nods, he keeps going, “then it’s fine. It’s like grieving. It doesn’t happen all the time, and you have to keep living your life, too. She’ll be back. They’ll be back.” He drops her hand and takes a step back, leaning on his cane. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

Pels glances to her right and left. Dad’s still suspiciously missing, and she doesn’t know why. Being on her own is unusual. “Okay,” she says slowly.

“You went out with Jess.” Shane leans back, letting the front wall of the restaurant take his weight. “And I’d like you to go out with me. Just us. On a date.”

“I feel like you guys are trying to woo me,” Pels grumbles. “Like you set up some kind of a plan to tag team to tame the wild thing—” She cuts off as his expression twists into something rueful. “You did. You totally did.”

“Maybe a little,” Shane admits. “Still. What do you think? I just—I feel like we should give this a chance.”

This.

She doesn’t look down at her wrist, but she knows the ink is there.

Dad’s nowhere around, but she can still hear his voice saying, “He’s right. Just give it a chance,” or maybe, “going out with Jess didn’t kill you, did it?”

It’s funny how he impacts her life without even being present.

She sighs heavily, crossing her arms. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine,” she repeats. “Okay. Yes. Fine. We’ll go on a date. That is not a group thing like this. You can even hold my hand since obviously touching you is not destroying my soul any more than it already has.”

“We don’t want to destroy your soul,” Shane says quietly. He carefully stands again, balanced with one hand on his cane and the other held out to Pels. She slips her hand in his and matches his pace as they walk in.

They may not want to destroy her soul, but they could. It’d be so easy, and Pels is so used to it. Every time she gets used to something it’s snatched away.

And this time Dad isn’t even here telling her that maybe it’s okay, that maybe this time everything will turn out just fine.

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[autumnwritcs]

tenderstars​

Asher could barely contain the smirk that grew from his triumph, “See, that wasn’t so hard.” The corner of his lips curled harder at how incredibly sexy it was to see her choose a bottle. It was a nice change of pace to see a woman so confident in herself. “Sounds like my type of wine,” he nodded at her request. Quickly, he started twisting the worm into the cork, happy that his sister had taught him how to open a bottle of wine. Asher knew he should have had a renown answer in response, but he didn’t have one. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’m more of a bottom shelf liquor man myself,” he chuckled, knowing that cheap liquor was better than having none at all. “A rum and coke is usually my go-to.” The chuckled as he pressed the bottle against his chest and pulled out the corkscrew. “It’s why I need you,” he smiled as he poured them a generous glass of wine for each of them, his eyes lingering onto Cassandra’s.  “…To teach me how to have a refined palate. I need a lot of work,” he flirted as he set the bottle of wine down and leaned against the counter for a moment to admire the woman before him. 

“Well, we’re all bottom-shelf at some point in our lives.” Cass said with a laugh. “Wine is an acquired taste. And and expensive one. I didn’t get into it until I was... thirty or so. Before that it was vodka. And before that it was beer.” She shared. Her eyes inadvertently dropped to Asher’s arms as the muscles tensed when he pulled the cork and for a matter of seconds she imagined those strong arms under her touch. His words weren’t helping her either and she decided a few sips would be enough to humor the young man. “Like I said, it’s an aquired taste. You just gotta try some, red, white, rosé... One might stick.” She shrugged as she poured both glasses, one to half that she slid to Asher and the other less than half. “There you go. Try it.” She waved her hand at him and as she took a sip of her own glass, her eyes remained on the the dark-haired man. “Anyway, you said you played drums, right? How did you fell into that?” It was probably not an interesting conversation for a twnty-something, being questioned about his life choices for a career but Cass was at lost at what to talk about.

[mayleebaby28]

For @fishfingersandjellybabies because reasons

Tim sunk down in the bath, letting the hot water scald him while it soothed his sore muscles.

The last few nights had been brutal, and he'd been taking more hits than usual. His back had a particularly nasty bruise that was kind of shaped like Alaska, as Dick had noted.

So tonight he was benched. Not because of anything he did, but because he was overly sore and it showed in his actions.

It was just he and Alfred in the manor, and the butler suggested he go take a bath and have a cup of tea and read a book. Enjoy your night off, he had said.

And that really had been Tim's plan, to make a cup of tea and sink into the tub with a new book and lose himself.

But the book was left on the sink counter by accident, so right off the bat it wasn't going his way.

He sat in the remarkably quiet room, could hear a clock ticking on his bedroom, but other than that the manor was silent.

It was....

Unsettling.

He was alone.

And it wasn't like he was never alone, he lived alone most of the time, but this was an eerie feeling. He didn't have music, nothing to distract himself. Just alone with his thoughts.

He found his head tipping side to side in time with the clock ticking.

Boy, alone sucked.

He wondered what the others were doing. Dick was probably being a show off, doing some kind of flip that he was able to do perfectly well if he focused but that came to Dick naturally. Bruce was probably punching someone. It might be nice to punch someone. Duke was probably with Cass, laughing at something she didn't say. He was a nervous laugher, and Cass still scared him a little. Jason was probably hiding out somewhere with Damian, both of then arguing in their dumb round-about way where they both come up with the exact same idea, but only one of them can take the credit.

It was so dumb.

But Tim desperately wanted to be out there with his family. He wanted to be on patrol with Steph while they swung around and laughed and tried to see who could spot a couple doing it in a car while they patrolled first. They always got a good laugh out of it because people were so obvious, before they threw something small at the car to alert the couple that people could see them. Once that couple had been Bruce and Selina on a really tall building by the stairwell.

It usually made Tim laugh, but he was crying.

He was sobbing.

Because they were all out there without him and what the fuck did they even need him for, he was just weighing them down. They were all out there fighting crime and here he was, not even able to take a damn bath right.

The bright orange spine of the book he was planning to read glared at him.

And the clock ticking seemed to just be screaming at him that he was here for so long by himself.

"Tim?"

He barely registered that someone was calling for him, let alone who.

"Timmy?"

He continued to cry to himself in his pitiful bath, hoping that maybe no one would notice because he was all wet anyways.

"Timmy, what's the matter?"

Suddenly a hand was turning his head towards the side of the bath tub, and he could see Dick's blurry face staring at him.

Tim wanted to talk, he tried to, but nothing was coming out except whines and sobs.

"You find him?"

"Is he okay?"

"Alright, Timmy, let's get you out of here," Dick said, and then he was leaning in and scooping Tim out of the water, which Tim didn't realize was so cold now.

"Your shirt," Tim whined as he was set on his feet and a towel was wrapped around him.

"You let me worry about that," Dick said, and there were two arms leading him out of his bathroom into the bedroom. He saw Damian sitting on the foot of his bed, brows furrowed.

"What happened, Tim?" Dick asked again as Tim was settled onto his bed. He saw Jason going into the bathroom, could hear the bath tub being drained and the sink running.

"I-I'm sorry," Tim cried, reaching up to wipe a tear away, not that it helped. He was all snotty and his face was soaked.

"Take a few deep breaths for me, Tim, okay?" Dick asked, crouching in front of him. "You're not making sense."

"Here," Jason returned, holding out a glass of water and a box of tissues. Tim took one and blew his nose, the deep breath filling his lungs and pausing his sobbing.

He still didn't speak, but as his eyes cleared, he could see Dick crouched in front of him, his whole front soaked through. Jason's shirt was a little wet too, and he was furrowing his brows in confusion. Damian beside him had scooted a little closer, a hand on his shoulder as he waited for Tim to speak.

"How bad, Tim?" Dick asked, and Tim knew what he was talking about. He was wondering how deep inside of his own head he was, how tall the waves of depression got. Was he in the shallow end or was he drowning with weights on his feet?

Tim shook his head, grabbing another tissue to dry his face.

"I need you to talk to me," Dick said, and Tim took a shuddering breath.

"I cant breathe," he said, and while Jason's eyes flashed, Dick simply nodded. He was taking on water, panicking.

"Okay, let's get you dressed," Dick said. Damian hopped up, going to find clothes so he didn't have to stay as involved. "You wanna tell me what's going on in that head of yours?"

"You dont need me," Tim muttered, because there was no point in fighting it. It wasn't like Dick would let it go, and Tim had learned that over the years.

"Of course we do, Tim," Dick said, furrowing his brows.

"Hell, we were looking for you because we need your eyes and your weird little brain on a case," Jason said, passing Tim another tissue.

"Guys, will you give us a minute?" Dick asked, taking the clean clothes from Damian. The other two nodded, Jason patting Dick's shoulder as they headed out. Once the door was shut, Dick was pulling Tim to his feet.

"You don't have to stay," Tim said, clutching the towel around him tighter. "I can get dressed."

"Let me help," Dick insisted, passing Tim the clean underwear. Tim dropped his towel to step into them, let Dick run the towel over his wet hair. He kept rubbing at his head until Tim was laughing and pushing his hands away.

"Dick," he chuckled, taking the towel off of his head and let it fall to the floor. He let Dick balance him as he stepped into his sweat pants and pulled the t-shirt over his head.

"There's my little brother," Dick said, wiping a tear off of Tim's cheek. "Okay, talk to me."

"I'm just useless," Tim sighed, not feeling tears this time. If anyone knew how to pull him out of an episode, it was Dick.

"You're not useless, Timmy," Dick shook his head.

"But I got benched-"

"So? We all get benched," Dick shrugged. "Bruce benched you because you've been working so hard. He thought you deserved a night off. Hell, I got benched last month for getting caught on patrol not only not paying attention, but for singing cher and dancing on a rooftop."

Tim chuckled. He'd been standing beside Bruce when they happened upon that scene. Tim found it hilarious. Bruce not so much.

"And I had to sit here while everyone else was out and about," Dick continued. "I watched the Parent Trap and ate a whole thing of ice cream that Damian had been saving."

Tim also remembered that, he had narrowly avoided the empty container that Damian had thrown. He had counted it as progress at the time because it wasn't a knife.

"My point is, we all get benched," Dick shook his head. "Doesn't make you, or me, or any one else useless. Makes you human."

Tim nodded a small amount, sniffling one last time.

"How bad?" Dick asked, and the corner of Tim's lip quirked up.

"Treading, for now," Tim said, and Dick smiled like he always did when Tim made progress.

"I'll take it," Dick nodded, holding out a hand to pull Tim back onto his feet. "Let's head downstairs before Bruce goes cross eyed looking at that case."

"Your shirt," Tim said again, but Dick just shrugged as he slung a damp arm around his shoulder.

"I have others," he said, but then he was grinning and pulling Tim in for a full hug.

"Dick!" He screeched, cringing as the water started to soak into his shirt. "Yourw all wet!"

"And so are you," Dick smirked, laughing to himself. Tim rolled his eyes and let Dick hug him for another second before trying to push away again.

[elareine]

Reasons to be jealous

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, one swear word Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Dick Grayson/Damian Wayne (side) Additional Tags: Pining, Misunderstandings, Jealousy, Undercover as a Couple, Future Fic, 5+1 Things, Brotherly Bonding, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff Batfam Bingo Square: 5+1 AO3: /18872404

One

“Well, that’s one arsonist behind bars.” Dick closed his laptop with a sigh of deep satisfaction. “Good job, Timmy.”

“Warm in here today,” he remarked absently, still focused on his own screen but knowing that Dick liked a bit of chatter once the tension of a case lessened.

“Oh, yeah, Jay and I were talking about it recently and it just reminded me of how much I like coming home to a warm room.”

Tim actually turned his attention to Dick. Dick and Jason… they talked, sure. The years had even smoothed most of the stiltedness out of it. He would go so far as to call them family.

But they weren’t friends. Tim couldn’t imagine them talking about room temperatures.

“You were?”

Dick laughed. “Weird topic of conversation, right? But you know how boring stake-outs go.”

Tim nodded in a heartfelt manner.

“It’s just a childhood thing. Circus trailers aren’t exactly known for great insulation. And Jay….”, Dick hesitated. Close to two decades later and still none of them liked to think about that child trying to survive on Gotham’s streets.  “Well, he knows cold, too. I thought it would be nice to have it warm if he stops by, is all.”

That was the second time Dick had called Jason ‘Jay’. Tim had thought he was the only one of their family who called Jason that. The only one who regularly saw Jason, too. Apparently not.

He ignored the twinge in his gut and asked, “So you’re getting along better now?”

The smile on Dick’s face was small but genuine. “Yeah.”

“Hey, did you set something on fire? Usually I’m close to freezing in here. See, this is why I bring the food,” Jason joked as he dropped the containers with said food on the kitchen counter.

Tim’s neck felt hot as he moved to take out some plates. “I thought it might be… nice. To be warm.”

It wasn’t a good excuse, he knew that.

Jason’s gaze sharpened. “Nice.”

Tim shrugged as casually as possible.

He thought Jason might ask again - give that man a hint something was up and he would follow it to its bitter end - but the other man finally relaxed into a smile. “Well, it is. Nice.”

When they moved to the couch for their weekly session of greasy food and terrible TV, Jason took his jacket off. Again Tim felt that unease in his gut. He had assumed that Jason kept the jacket on as form of a safety blanket, to hide his guns or even just out of a sense of style. But no, he’d just been freezing because Tim never really noticed the temperature of a room he was in and tended to keep it on the chilly side.

Some detective he was. He’d been doing this - this thing with Jason for years now, being partners, brothers, friends even, but he hadn’t seen something so simple about him. But Dick had.

A knee nudged against his. When he looked up Jason’s eyes were concerned.

“You alright, babybird?”

The nickname, as always, made Tim want to smile, but he just said: “Tired, sorry.”

Two

It was one thing to know that Dick and Jason were getting along better now; another entirely to watch it.

Patrol with just the four of them was always tense. It didn’t happen often. Babs had made plenty of comments about all-men groups being ‘way too testosterone guided’ and Tim absolutely conceded her point. But she was busy and Steph and Cass were away, as was Bruce. The announcement of an upcoming Arkham breakout hadn’t left them with much choice but for the four of them to work together.

Still, Tim had expected it to be tense because Dick and Jason were sniping at each other and Damian at everyone, not because Jason and Dick were goofing around and it was weird.

Dick was laughing and slinging an arm around Jason’s shoulder innocently. Tim knew that move intimately - any moment now Dick’s hand would move under Jason’s right arm and flip him over bodily. He’d done it to Tim and Damian about a thousand times.

Dick’s hand moved and pulled.

Nothing happened.

Jason was grinning under his helmet, Tim was sure. “Bit heavier than you remembered, Nightwing?”

Dick pouted.

Before he could reply, however, he was interrupted by a sharp voice. “Are you done being a distraction?”

Damian was being even more pissy than usual. He’d donned his Batman cowl in Bruce’s absence, but it couldn’t hide the perpetual scowl on his face this night. Tim didn’t need to guess what had caused it. The brat (which was what Damian always would be to him, a head taller than him or not) had always been possessive over Dick, and didn’t Tim know it.

Still, for once, Tim actually agreed with him. They were very distracting.

Luckily, the first inmate chose that moment to break through security forces, and soon they were all too busy for any more flirting.

“Why are you here and not in the shower?” Dick waved a hand in the direction Jason had disappeared to.

“I need to write a mission report,” Tim protested.

“We can do that, right, little D?” Dick smiled at Damian, who grumbled but acquiesced. “Go ahead and have an early night, dude. You look beat.”

“Uh. Thanks.”

Tim made his way to the unofficial changing room they sometimes used after missions, where Jason was just coming out of the shower, a towel around his hips.

He smiled when he saw Tim. “You’re done?”

“Looks like it.”

“Wanna go for some pancakes?”

“Sure.”

With a quiet sigh of relief, Tim peeled out of the tight suit, grimacing mentally at the sweat that made his skin stick to the material. Jason moved next to him to get dressed.

Tim didn’t realise how quiet he’d been until Jason’s hand reached out to poke his newly uncovered cheek. “Something on your mind, babybird?”

“It’s weird,” he admitted, “seeing Dick and you get along.”

Jason laughed. “I bet. Don’t worry, it probably won’t last.”

“What brought the truce on, anyway?”

“Nothing special. Guess we just decided to, to quote a certain Tim Drake, ‘grow up and talk’. Though alcohol was involved. Obviously.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed. Jason wasn’t looking at him and his tone of voice was relaxed, light, even.

He was lying. 

Three

“If he’s coming to Wayne functions now, we might as well make Jason officially a part of the family again.”

“Bruce doesn’t know how to ask and he thinks Jason will say no.”

“He might not.” But Tim was aware that Dick’s attention wasn’t really on their quiet conversation.

Dick was loosening his tie. Tim, curse his brain, couldn’t help but notice the way his throat was flushed, how he swallowed like his mouth was dry.

See, this was the kind of situation where Tim mentally cursed every bit of detective training he’d ever had. He’d really rather not know that his brother was becoming aroused in the middle of a very public ballroom, thank you very much.

Tim followed Dick’s gaze to where Jason and Damian were talking to a group of socialites, the two of them towering over everyone else. Without any conscious input from his brain, his own eyes strayed to where the suit jacket stretched just so over Jason’s broad shoulders, to where the coat flared, perfectly accentuating his waist, down to his thighs just barely contained by the slim suit pants…

Dick’s voice recalled him to the present. “Well, you would know better than anyone else.”

Apparently not, Tim thought. Apparently I don’t know anything about him. If he didn’t even tell me about you…

It was hard to speak around the bitterness in throat. “I know that if he keeps throwing Damian to the wolves like that, he won’t live long enough to answer Bruce.”

Dick laughed. “Aww, you know Damian only means his death threats 30% of the time these days. Still, I’ll go rescue him. Coming?”

Tim waved him off, knowing all three of the official Wayne brothers together would draw a crowd. Worse, it would draw Cass. As much as he loved his sister, he didn’t want her to see the ugly feeling clawing through him.

For a minute, he just watched Dick move through the crowd, a kind word here, a flirtatious smile there, always working his audience. The golden boy. Tim had thought he was over that old jealousy - over fighting for the cowl, for Bruce’s love, for a place in their family, always compared to the first Robin - but now it looked like Jason would be just one more thing he’d lose to Dick and he couldn’t stand it.

There was a familiar presence sidling up to him. For such a big man, Jason could be quite stealthy.

Tim took a deep breath, composing himself. He couldn’t afford to act weird around Jason. Again.

“Hey,” he smiled at him, “Alfred got you into a suit?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to wearing something this expensive.” Jason rolled his shoulders back, stretching the shirt even further. Tim had to look away. “You make it look so natural.”

“I’m always terrified of spilling something.” Tim suppressed a shudder, remembering his mother’s less than understanding attitude when he’d ruined one of his outfits as a child. Alfred, of course, would never do more than cluck disapprovingly, but…

“Well, then you’d better put that glass away and dance with me.” There was a roguish grin on Jason’s face as he offered Tim a hand.

Tim, however, didn’t even really have time to consider that offer before Jason just went and took his hand anyway, his other setting down Tim’s glass on a nearby surface before pulling the younger man to the dance floor.

“Jason,” Tim protested, laughter threatening to break through as Jason pulled him into his arms and began leading him into a quickstep.

“C’mon, the longer we dance, the longer we don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jason grinned down at him. “Mrs. Quickshaw was already making her way over.”

Now Tim did giggle. “In that case, feel free to whisk me away anytime.”

He thought he saw Dick watching them from the corner of his eyes, but Jason chose that moment to twirl him around and he forgot all about it, breathless with laughter.

Four

“Grayson and Todd.”

Tim looked up from his screen at the cave to the masked crusader sitting next to him. “What about them?” Last time he’d checked, the two were out and about on their usual routes. Jason had even texted him about a particularly funny incident involving two sex workers and a fourteen-year-old wannabe client four minutes ago. Surely even he hadn’t managed to get into trouble in the meantime?

What was he thinking, this was Gotham.

Damian made an impatient gesture. His expression implied that Tim should know exactly what he was talking about, but he deigned to say: “They are closer.”

Oh.

“Yes.” Tim did his best to sound disinterested. There was no way he would bare this wound to Damian.

Damian was frowning up a storm now. “I’ve seen Grayson experience romantic and sexual attraction to someone he believes is out of his reach before. He’s exhibiting all the signs now.”

Tim considered that. In a way, Damian certainly knew Dick better than Tim. (That still smarted a bit, by the way.) The brat had certainly become better about people’s emotions through the years. If Damian said that Dick was in love with Jason, Tim believed him.

For a second, he considered the possibility that it was one-sided with something like joy. Then he squashed it ruthlessly.

It was Dick. How could Jason resist him? Why would he want to? Everyone loved Dick. It didn’t matter that Tim had invested years of his life into supporting Jason through the most difficult times of their lives, into building a relationship that was founded on trust instead of violence. He had never kidded himself that it made Jason obligated or even likely to love him.

It didn’t matter, because who wouldn’t want Dick?

Dick might be pining now, but soon, he would get what he wanted. He always did, in these things.

Tim just hoped for Jason’s sake that Dick wouldn’t get tired of him once he had him.

Shoving the thought away, he said tiredly, “Maybe it is for now.”

There was a loud crack as Damian set down his cup with enough force to split porcelain. “You’re not helpful, Drake,” he spat, jumping up and exiting the cave in his usual dramatic fashion.

Tim watched him leave and wondered why this felt like giving up.

Five

“Oh, I see you have booked our honeymoon suite. May I offer my felicitations?”

Jason smiled and pulled his partner closer into him. “Thank you.”

“Our suite offers everything you need to make it the experience of a lifetime. The rooms include a kitchenette, a secluded balcony with a sea view as well as a whirlpool. I’ll have an attendant bring you a bottle of champagne,” the clerk smiled, “on the house.”

Dick beamed. “Oh, thank you, that’s very kind of you!” He turned to kiss Jason on the cheek. “See, babe, I told you this hotel is the best.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Grayson. Now, our restaurant serves dinner between six and ten, though I’m happy to give you recommendations if you choose to dine elsewhere. Room service is available by calling…”

“Will she never stop talking,” a voice in Tim’s feed cut her off.

Tim frowned. “You’re supposed to be working, Robin.”

He could practically hear Damian’s eyeroll. “Not much to do as a valet, you imbecile. I’m assigned to take their luggage up,” that was going according to plan, then, Tim thought, how nice to know, thank you, Damian, “but they are too busy flirting to actually do something.”

“That is what they’re supposed to be doing,” Tim reminded him.

“Tch.” Damian’s feed cut off.

Jason and Dick were finally wrapping things up at the reception desk. Tim watched through the security cameras as they turned towards the elevators, their eyes seemingly never leaving each other.

These days, Jason was the logical choice as a partner on these missions if they wanted to keep it in the family. Mostly because people didn’t know he was family, so they could use their actual names to get into luxury hotels and the like. O was busy and Bruce on another planet, so it made sense that Tim was running the backup side of things. Sure, Dick had been a bit quick to volunteer to be Jason’s partner on this one, leaving Damian to infiltrate the labor side of things, but Damian was still a bit stiff in undercover situations like this one. The entire set-up was entirely logical.

Still, as Jason’s hand dropped down to squeeze a generous handful of Dick’s ass, Tim started to see Damian’s point.

The honeymooners made their way up to their room. Separating as soon as the door closed behind Damian, they silently began to case the room.

Tim let them work for it for a minute, then spoke into the mic. “There are no outgoing signals apart from my camera from your room.”

Jason looked up into said camera and smiled. “Thanks. How are things on your end?”

“Uneventful.”

Dick asked, “Where’s Damian?”

“Making his way through the rooms. He’ll hand your note over to the mark in about five minutes.”  

“Better get undressed then,” Dick said, winking at Jason. “Gotta give her a show, right?”

“You actually want her and Damian to walk in on us?” Jason sighed dramatically. “Tim, you’ll rescue me if Damian tries to kill me, right?”

“I don’t know,” Tim replied drily around the bile in his throat, “if you make me watch you two have sex, I might help him hide the bodies.”

“Ouch.” Jason pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded.”

Dick rolled his eyes and pulled his shirt over his eyes. “Just get undressed.”

“Since you’re asking so nicely, darling.”

“Just for you, honey.”

Tim decided to turn his attention to Damian’s feed, instead.

And one

To say the aftermath of the mission was tense was to make an understatement. They had drawn out the mob contact they’d needed and locked away an entire branch of a drug-smuggling cartel, but Jason and Dick had barely made it back to the cave before Damian had appeared to whisk a confused Dick away, throwing acidic looks at Jason all the way.

Jason, weirdly, didn’t seem to take that to heart at all. Instead, he was grinning at Tim. “Got the brat all upset, huh?”

Tim didn’t know what to say. That Damian had good reason to be upset? That both of them couldn’t stand this new relationship that had been on display so obviously during this mission? ‘He’ll come around’, knowing fully well it would be a lie?

Abruptly, Tim stood up from his chair. Then he didn’t know what to do next. His instincts were screaming at him to get of here, to get away from Jason until he had himself under control again, but he couldn’t just storm past him, could he? Then Jason would definitely know something was wrong.

And this was what he had wanted all these years, right? For Jason to be a part of their family again. To be happy.

(For Jason to happy with Tim.

But he should’ve known better. Who could compete with Dick Grayson, after all?)

“I’m happy for you and Dick.” Tim could say it, but he couldn’t make himself look at Jason as he did.

“Tim.” Jason’s voice was soft.

Tim’s eyes stayed stubbornly on the ground even as he heard Jason move closer to him.

Then there was a large hand cupping his left jawbone, gently tilting his head up.

“Oh, babybird, I’m-“ there was just the slightest brush of Jason’s lips against his own. Then Jason’s mouth moved up, pressing gentle kisses to his cheekbones, the arch of his brow, his forehead.

Tim had to close his eyes against the sudden burn in them, and Jason kissed his eyelid, too.

“I’m sorry,” Jason told him earnestly. “I didn’t realise the acting would affect you. I didn’t think you-“

“Well, I do. Love you, I mean.” Tim stopped himself. “Wait, that is what we’re talking about, right?”

“I was hoping.” Jason kissed him again. This time, it lasted a lot longer, just their lips gently moving against each other, Jason’s hands on his neck, Tim’s hands on Jason’s shoulders.

When he finally moved just fractions of a centimetre away, Jason said, “I do, too.”

Tim wanted to believe, to just let himself give in to Jason, drown in his affection, but he had to open his eyes, had to ask. “But… you and Dick…”

To his surprise, Jason chuckled. “When would that even happen? I’m pretty sure I spend every waking hour of the day either with you or texting you or talking to you on the coms, Tim. I was probably texting you during the stake-out when Dick and I were talking about the ideal room temperature that you were so weird about.” He paused. “We were talking about the ideal room temperature, babybird. How does that scream romantic relationship to you?”

Tim was full-on blushing now, he was sure. “You’re very comfortable with each other. And you did do way more touching than necessary on the mission.”

“Okay, number one - we’ve been in this business long enough to know to never go undercover as a couple with someone you actually have feelings for. They will be exposed and it will be a mess and someone will probably be watching. Number two - I just enjoyed annoying the shit out of Damian.”

Tim actually pulled back a bit to look at Jason. “Wait, that was intentional?”

“On my side at least.”

Some of the interactions Tim had had with Damian fit that, he just hadn’t thought it was reciprocated - oh. Dick’s flush at the ball. Oh. “So Dick is-“

“I knew Dick was fucked the moment Damian turned out to be that tall.”

Tim groaned in exasperation. “How did I miss that?”

“To be fair, I didn’t really know before I mentioned to Dick that I’m, you know, with you and he proceeded to have a slow meltdown about Damian in front of me. There was alcohol and crying involved. Wasn’t pretty, believe me.”

“That’s what broke the ice?”

“Yeah. Pretty difficult to get annoyed at someone after you’ve seen them sobbing with guilt about being attracted to the demon brat.”

With an exhale, all the tension Tim had been carrying for weeks now left his body and he slumped forward into Jason’s embrace, hiding his face in his neck.

“Can we please stop talking about our brothers now?” Jason asked plaintively even as his hands started rubbing soothing circles on Tim’s back. “Because I’m kind of stuck on the part where you said you loved me and let me kiss you, here.”

The smile that rose on Tim’s face was slow to unfold but so very, very happy. “You’re right. You should kiss me again.”

Jason did.

Tim had no occasion to think about Dick Grayson again that evening.

[lizartgurl]

“Be Brave” (Aqualight Coffee Diem AU)

So forgive me, because I actually hate coffee, but the concept of coffee shops is really cute to me, especially when you bring @super-spoiler‘s Coffee Diem AU into the mix, so this is cute scenario+cute ship+Owl City’s new song=More cute! So enjoy!

Kaldur decided to blame the heat on his cheeks as his body’s natural defense against the falling snow, and definitely not at the cute girl in front of him.

Being bi was a disaster. He was attracted to basically everyone he saw. There was no escape. Roy and Conner were taking their lucky exchange student buddy sledding for the first time (they didn’t get snow in Kaldur’s Mediterranean home). 

He was confident that he’d seen the girl with a long black braid and a gold nose piercing before, but he couldn’t place where. She was currently laughing in a manner most uncouth as she struggled to help a gaggle of blonde girls about her age drag their huge sled up the hill, but all of them kept tripping through the deep snow. 

They were halfway up the hill when Kaldur and his friends caught up to them with their own sleds.

“Hey Kara,” Conner grinned at the tallest blonde, who stuck out her tongue at him.

“Piss off, Kon,” She said. The girls burst into laughter again.

“Can I help you with your sled?” Kaldur was asking before he could think.

Another blonde, who appeared to have dyed her afro, and who wasn’t Kara, placed her hand over her heart dramatically, “What a gentleman!” The girls backed up to let Kaldur dump the snow off of their sled and hang it over his shoulder to bring it up to the top of the hill.

“Who’s the gentleman, cuz?” Kara asked Conner, holding the hand of the third and final blonde. Kaldur tried not to notice that the girl he had noticed earlier was smiling at him gratefully.

“Ladies, this is Kaldur. He’s an exchange student from Greece.” Conner patted him on the shoulder with a wink as they followed Roy.

“I love Greece!” Kara’s hand-holding buddy squealed appreciatively, “I go there every summer with my mom for work!”

Afro-blonde shoved her hand at Kaldur, “I’m Stephanie, I’m a disaster bi and I’m from Gotham.” Kaldur tucked both sleds under his arm to be polite.

“Kiran, you’re an exchange student, right?” Kara asked the dark-haired girl.

“Yeah, I’m from India,” Kiran smiled. Kaldur almost tripped. Her smile was almost as bright as the sun, dancing off the pure white snow in a dazzling display of light. Kon elbowed him. He knew.

“Is this your first snow?” Kon nodded in Kiran’s direction.

“Yup!” Kiran caught a snowflake on her tongue, adding a little skip to her step, her thick green winter shawl spreading like a pair of angel wings as she bounced along. 

He was going to have a heart attack.

“Hey! It’s Kal’s first snow, too!” Kon patted Kaldur on the back with a little too much enthusiasum, and he fell over.

By then, thankfully, they had reached the top of the hill. Kiran helped Kaldur to his feet and helped him brush the snow off his shoulders. “So, what do you think of the snow?”

Kaldur looked around, blinking up at the sky, praying to the gods above for an answer.

“Cold,” He settled on at last. Like an idiot.

“Hey!” Stephanie held up the girl’s giant sled, “Let’s see how many people we can fit on here!”

“We could barely fit ourselves on there,” Kara’s girlfriend, Cassie, pointed out with barely-contained laughter.

“We can squeeze real close,” Kara suggested with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “Come on, Kon! Grab Bart and Roy! We’ll dogpile on the thing!”

Roy immediately said no, and slid down on his own before further argument could be made, but Kon’s other friends were all in.

“You wanna join in?” Kiran asked Kaldur. Stephanie had already claimed seat at the front of the sled.

Unable to form a coherent sentence, all Kaldur could do was not. Still smiling, Kiran took pity on him, or maybe she wanted to see him spontaneously combust, and gently took his hand and sat the two of them on the sled with Cassie and Kara. 

Rose, one of Kon’s co-workers, agreed to push them down once they were all on.

“Remember!” Cassie barked, “We lean together!”

“Go!” Rose shrieked with glee and gave the sled as big a shove as her tiny muscles could, which was much more than Kaldur expected. They shot down the hill with a collective scream, shooting past every other sled on the slope.

Kiran was seated right behind Kaldur, and as he held onto the sides of the sled for balance, she held on to his torso, like they were riding a motocycle. Kaldur didn’t have a motorcycle, but he had a moped back home in Santorini.

The joyride ended all too early, as Stephanie screamed at all of them to lean to avoid a tree. Everyone leaned in a different direction, and the momentum sent them tumbling into the snow.

“Bart! That was all your fault!” Cassie shouted as they lay red-faced in the snow.

“How was it my fault?” Bart pouted, throwing a clump of snow at Cassie. It hit Kara instead, who threw a snowball at Kon. Then it was just a free-for-all.

Kaldur’s gloves had fallen off, so he packed the snow with his bare hands, tossing one at Connor, then at Stephanie. Kiran surprised him with a snowball exploding on his back. She laughed, and it sounded like the tinkling bells that played at Christmastime.

He was in love. 

“Oh crap,” Kara checked her phone, “Steph! We have a shift in like five minutes.”

“Aw, already?” Steph pouted.

“Come on, maybe you’ll see business girl today,” Cassie teased, making Stephanie’s cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink. 

“Or Wayne boy,” Kara grinned.

Stephanie was already running through the snow, “I’m going, I’m going!”She shouted, sprinting for the coffee shop across the street.

“Any of you guys wanna come in for some hot chocolate or something? I work in the back, and Steph’s only allowed to man the register, but Court and Harper are pretty much barista wizards.”

“Do we get a discount for being your friends?” Kiran asked, tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Kara laughed. “No.”

“Trust me, if I could get a discount for being her girlfriend, I would,” Cassie whispered in an exaggerated manner. Kiran and Kaldur laughed.

“Where’s my discount for being the best cousin ever?” Conner demanded, running to catch up.

“Reserved for Clark,” Kara smirked, holding the door open for everyone.

The bell rang to announce customers in the mostly-empty cafe. The only occupied table was a girl with a soft smile and short black hair,

“There you are!” A girl in a green apron and purple and blue hair waved at Kara from behind the counter.

“Steph came in early for once, and I was wondering where you were.”

“Hush, Harper, I brought us customers, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harper chuckled, “Klarion and Amy did something funky with the frother, so I’m going to make that my main project for today.”

“Ugh, Klarion,” Kara rolled her eyes. “Steph will be out in a sec to take your orders,” She promised. She ducked behind the counter with Harper and disappeared into the kitchen.

Kiran sat down at the booth with the only other customer in the store. “Origami?”  She asked, noting all the folded scraps of paper.

“Yeah,” The girl waved her arms, “Harper’s brother found a book and taught her, so she taught me.”

“We wrote little fortunes on the inside of all of them!” Harper grinned at the girl in the booth.

“Take one,” She handed a crane to Kiran, who shook her hand.

“I’m Kiran.”

“Cass.”

They were all made with neon-colored sticky notes. Cassie took a little folded-up bright green frog that you could hop across the table, Conner took a tiny pink paper airplane that didn’t fly very well, and when Kaldur stood around shyly, Kiran pressed another crane into his hand. While hers was bright yellow, his was a beautiful blue.

Kaldur carefully unfolded his crane. He wanted to see this curious fortune that Harper and Cass had come up with, but he also wanted to preserve the complex folds in the shape of a bird.

He found it, under the wing. Two words in black ink, written in cursive.

“Be Brave”

“Okay!” Stephanie burst out from the kitchen in a hat and apron that matched Harper’s and stepped up to the till.

“You know what you want yet?” Kiran asked Kaldur.

He shrugged. Right now, he was trying to contemplate the complexity and simplicity of his fortune. 

“I think I will just get a black coffee. That is what I usually get.”

Kiran’s nose scrunched up. “You can’t just get the same thing every time! There’s like fifty items on the menu! Don’t you want to improvise?”

Kaldur glanced at the menu hanging over Stephanie and Harper’s heads as the fourth barista, “Court”, burst in.

“Peppermint latte?” He asked Kiran for approval.

She nodded, satisfied, “It’s seasonal, you have to appreciate it while it lasts.”

“Be Brave”

The writing on his fortune flashed in his mind again. 

“Can I buy you a coffee?”He asked.

Kiran blinked, as if his request had blown her away.

“Two peppermint lattes coming up!” Stephanie declared.

“Court, get your butt out here we got work to do!” Harper barked.

Kiran laughed again, as Court stumbled out to help Harper with the drinks. 

Neptune’s Beard, she was beautiful.

“Don’t worry, I was going to say yes anyway,” She promised, taking his hand.

They walked up to the til, where Stephanie smiled smugly at the two of them, to pay for the drinks. Kaldur slipped his crane into his pocket. He may need it later.

[searchingff-blog]

Chapter 6: Slipping

“You’re going to stop trying to get me pregnant too.” Cassi giggled as soft kisses were being placed on her plump behind.

It was early in the morning and the couple just finished making love. Well for her it was more like sex, but for Saint he was connecting with her physically and mentally. She had a way with her body that no other female he came in contact with had. To make matters worse Cassi knew what she was doing. When it was just the two of them she made him feel godly, and like what he had between his legs was magic, black magic that sent secret messages to her brain. It was all apart of the game she played, and he had no idea about it.

“I can’t help it. The pussy be soooo gewd a nigga be forgetting I’m hitting it raw.” He chuckled,  taking an open palm to her ass.

“When I put that ass on child support you better be singing the same tune.” She laughed, letting him roll her over on her back and sliding between her legs.

“You trying to get me pregnant now and I don’t have a ring on this finger.” She raised her hand, and moved her ring finger back and forth. “How I know it’s real?”

“I don’t take care of you? I don’t treat you like a queen?” His face was more serious than his voice.

Cassi laid there quiet.

“Aight then. Better stop playing with me girl.” Her silence was the only answer he needed. They both knew what he did for her, and the pedestal she sat comfortably on. Saint leaned down, and pecked her lips. “I’m hungry.”

“You want your favorite?” She caressed his face.

“You already know I do.”

They connected lips once more, and then he rolled on his side of the bed.

Cassi slid off the bed, and grabbed her robe out of the closet. She walked out the room, and headed down the hall to the kitchen to whip up loaded french toast, eggs, and hot sausage.

TEN MINUTES LATER

The aroma from the kitchen was traveling into the room, and only made Saint hungrier. He knew that the food had to be nearly finished by now, but was going to stay in bed until she called him. It was still early, and nothing entertaining was on TV besides reruns that he didn’t feel like watching, so the TV ended up on some random movie. His undivided attention was on the movie until the bed started vibrating. At first he thought it was his phone, but when he found the rose gold IPhone he saw that it wasn’t his.  

Zeus 😄: Good morning beautiful

Zeus 😄: You miss me?

“What the fuck?” He whispered to himself.

Saint could feel his blood boiling. He knew the two of them were friends, but to text her that early in the morning as if Cassi was his girl infuriated him. The angel on his shoulder was telling him to calm down, but he couldn’t. He jumped out of bed, and glided down the hall.

“Good morning beautiful, you miss me?” His face emotionless.

“It hasn’t been that long.” She chuckled, facing the opposite direction.

“Nah, I ain’t the one missing you. It’s this nigga Zeus texting sweet shit in the fucking morning.”

The moment his name collided with her eardrum she was cursing herself out in her head. How could she be stupid enough to leave her phone in the bed? She needed to gain her composure quick.

“First calm down, and second I’m sure he meant to send that to someone else.” She turned the stove off and faced him.

“Fuck all that shit he know who he texting. Open your phone, and let me see the thread.” He offered the phone towards her.

“I’m not doing that. You don’t trust me? Really Saint?” Playing the victim was her go to plan, because what was inside that thread he wasn’t going to be able to handle.

“Open the damn phone and i’ll tell you.” He stared her down.

Most of the time it was hard for him to put his foot down with her, but he knew how Zeus operated from what Azure went through.

“You can tell me now because i’m not doing that shit.”

Cassi not opening her phone was making him more suspicious.

“What the fuck you got to hide? Something obviously with this gay ass smiley emoji next to his name. You got me fucked up Cassi.” He placed the phone down on the counter.

Saint wanted to trust her, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. If it was nothing he had no problem apologizing once she proved to him that it wasn’t nothing. Instead she let his suspicions heighten.

“The food is done asshole.” She rolled her eyes, turning back around to make plates.  

“I lost my appetite. Go feed it to the nigga that misses your ass.” He made his way back to the to the room.

“Are you serious right now?”

Her response was the bedroom door being slammed.  Cassie dropped the spoonful of eggs and picked up her phone.

Cass 👅: Why the fuck would you text me that.  Saint seen that shit, and now he’s pissed. Thanks a lot asshole.

After she sent that text she erased the thread, and blocked his number. There was too much evidence in those messages. The bedroom door opened back up, and Saint came around the corner fully dressed.

“Where you going?” She questioned, looking him over.

“To go get something to eat. I need some fresh air.” He grabbed his keys off the coffee table.

“Bye.” She said carefree. Arguing with him this early in the morning wasn’t on her agenda

As much as he wanted what she cooked he needed to teach her a lesson. Hopefully she was going to get it.

——————————–

It was around two in the afternoon when Hazel pulled up to Razor Cutz, the barbershop Zeus worked at, with food and a couple things she needed to get off her chest. Zeus was like her brother, so when she needed somebody to talk to about Roman she went to him for advice. He was an unbiased and neutral ear that would tell her if she was wrong in the situation. However,  Azure was her blood sister and what happened to her the other night at the club was unacceptable. Things, women, baby mommas, hoes needed to be put in place and he was the one who needed to do it.

“Hey yall.” She waved and smiled at the other barbers in the shop. “Not you tho. We got some shit that needs to be handled and addressed.” She pointed at Zeus.

“What this clown do now?” One of the barbers joked.

“Mane, shut ya ass up.” Zeus laughed, motioning for her to come to the back with him.

The two walked to the back of the barbershop, and he closed the door behind them. He knew what she was coming to chew him out about, and even though he handled it already he was going to take it like a man.

“Curry goat, rice and peas?” He took the bag of food.

“Yeah, my momma still be looking out for you.” She rolled her eyes.

“She a saint forreal.” He opened the container, and let the aroma fill his nostrils up.

After everything that had happened between Zeus and Azure, her mom still made sure he was taken care of. They’d been together so long he had become apart of the family.

“You know who’s not a saint, Azure. You need to get your baby mother in check because shit like that can’t happen again. It won’t happen again.” Her voice was stern, and the emotion her face portrayed was severe.

“You’re right, and that’s why I took care of it already. AZ won’t have to worry about her anymore.” He said reassuringly.

“Good, because come time for my dinner I don’t need any drama to pour out onto the table.”

“What’s this big dinner for again?” He asked before stuffing his face.

“It’s a surprise.”

In reality the dinner was put in place to be the night they revealed that they were pregnant.  Hazel wanted to cancel it after the miscarriage, but Roman suggested they still did it to have a good time. It took a minute for her to agree, but she finally did. Now they were using the dinner as the time to reveal the new house. She prayed and hoped that they were on good terms that day. Things had been chaotic in their household, and she wasn’t sure how they were going to recover after this. Marriages weren’t easy and they took some fighting to stay afloat, but this seemed like it was either going to make or break them.

“Also, Azure will be there and she already said she doesn’t want no parts of you, so don’t go thinking you’re going to weasel your way back in, because it ain’t happening. Your baby mom’s fucked that up for you.” That was one of the reasons why she invited the both of them, and her plan had already failed.

“I wasn’t going to mess with her regardless. I’m just going to apologize, and keep it pushing.” He lied, knowing he planned on seeing if she’d do dinner or a movie with him.

“Nope, I’ll let her know because you stay doing other shit.” She chuckled, reaching in her black leather MK bag for her phone.

A couple weeks back Hazel started to get these weird text messages regarding her husband. The first time she didn’t pay it any mind, because she just thought somebody was playing on her phone. It didn’t become a pressing matter for her until they started sending pictures of him. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the riddle, or figure out the encoded message behind it.

“Look at this.” She pulled up a message, and handed him the phone.

Unknown Number: Is your husband as ride or die as you think? You might want to question him about some of the company he keeps.

Zeus furrowed his brows at the message. He had no idea what the person could have been talking about.

“What you think they talkin about?”

“That he’s cheating. What else could it be?”

Zeus laughed, and shook his head. “Women always go straight for cheating. Trust me, that man loves you and he aint fucking no other bitch.”

“I don’t know, we been at odds for a minute now.”

“About what?” He looked at her with confusion. They seemed to have the perfect relationship.

“Family stuff.”  She thought about bringing him in on the miscarriage information, but didn’t want to deal with those emotions again. Everything about the situation she was still healing from, and each time she brought it up she broke down.

“Ohhh, mane you talkin like it’s deep shit that y'all can’t get passed. You two will work it out.”

Zeus always congratulated Roman on being able to stick with one woman, and be faithful to her. He wanted that for himself, but the one he wanted didn’t want anything to do with him. When he was with Azure he had it good. She was everything that he ever wanted in a women, but he let temptation shatter it, and didn’t realize it until after jail. Jail turned him into a new man, and he wasn’t going to give up on her just yet. He had a couple things up his sleeve.

“I hope you’re right, but you good?” She asked, standing up. Hazel had some work errands to run.

“Yeah, go handle your business sis.” He assured her she was good to go.

“Alright, stay outta trouble.” She walked by him, and patted his shoulder.

“Ya know I’m a feign for it.” He laughed, finishing off the rest of the food.

———————————

Cassi’s day had been horrible, and it was all because a man got comfortable. Zeus was a good lay, but it seemed like he let that cloud his judgement this morning. She hadn’t been able to reach Saint all day, and that was something she wasn’t used to. Usually he would throw a fit,  and come home, or call her within thirty minutes. This wasn’t like him, and it made her feel uneasy. All she wanted to do was tear a hole into the side of Zeus’ face with her words of fury.  

She drove into the city just for him. Knowing him he was the last person in the shop, so interrupting his business wasn’t going to be a factor. When she pulled up she sat out front to make sure nobody else was inside. Everything looked good, so she exited the car with anger plastered on her face.

“Nigga are you dumb, or just fucking stupid?” She walked into the shop with no positive introduction.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He looked at her, taken back by her approach.

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. Why text me some shit like that knowing damn well I have a man? You’re a pro at cheating and being a fucking side nigga so you should know the damn rules.” She wasn’t aware of how furious she actually was.

“Hold the fuck up. Don’t bring your thot ass up in here talking crazy at me, because your dumb ass was sloppy with your shit.” He was irritated.

“Thot? Who the fu-”

“You bitch, fuck else I’m talking to and go ahead and say some more reckless shit so I can hurt your feelings some more.” He stared down at her with the intent of doing so already. “You can play this shit with that scrub, but dont bring your ass in here talking to me out the side of ya neck like I won’t violate.”

“Fuck you Zeus.” She was surprised by what he was saying.

“Your hoe ass already did that. How you fix your lips to talk about anybody being a pro cheater? Your whole relationship is a fucking cheat. That nigga was the first to wife you up instead of passing you along to the next, and you too dumb to realize it, so niggas like me come and catch a nut because the pussy is decent, and the head is good. You fucked around, and let him see the message that’s on your ass. You forget the shit I did for your ass?” He paused to stare her down to let the question sink in.

“Yeah…” He voice was as tiny as a mouse.

“Yeah! I killed for your ass, and fucked up my life and didn’t snitch on you. So if I want to text you, call you, hell even pull up and tell you to bring ya ass outside I can do that. Because wasn’t nobody else gonna handle that nigga after he put you in the hospital, and almost killed ya ass.”

Cassi was the reason Juan was dead. She was dating him, and sleeping with Zeus at the same time. When she ended up in the hospital, face rearranged, in a coma, somebody had to do something and he stepped up to the plate. When she finally woke up she set him up, and instead of meeting her he met the end of Zeus’ barrel. That wasn’t his main chick, but he had a soft spot for her. There were multiple times he regretted doing what he did, but right now was the icing on the cake and it showed him that she didn’t appreciate what he did for her.

“Take ya ass the fuck home.” He waved her off, and went back to cleaning up the shop.

Cassi was shocked at the verbal abuse she received. Her body was numb and she couldnt move until he told her so. On her way out the door tears streamed down her face. She hadn’t felt this low in a long time, and didn’t think she could ever feel this way again. Her hand was shaking as she tried to place the key in the ignition. Finally, she started the car and sped off almost hitting a car coming from behind her.

The car wasn’t the only thing she missed. The man in all black who heard their entire conversation was missed as well. He’d been following her for some days now.

“Yeah, Lena I think you might have to pick up his old girl.”

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Glittered

Day 2 of Batfam Week is Shenanigans so please enjoy some Dead Robins Club pranks. As usual it can be found here on my ao3. Rating: G Words: 1,538 Gen

Stephanie smirked, the water balloon in her left hand had been filled with liberal amounts of glitter before being filled with water. As had all the balloons she had in the bag that rested against her hip. Peering around the corner she could just make out her target. Standing in the middle of the large, wood paneled, filled with priceless antiques – most of which were Wayne family heirlooms – hall was Dick Grayson. He shifted his weight on the plush carpet, eyeing a particularly large vent opening. Steph’s smirk grew, he thought that she had gone through the manor’s duct work. Boy was he going to be surprised.

Readying the balloon, she ducked out into the hall with a battle cry of “Hey Dick-face!” Chucking the soon to be glitter grenade with perfect aim as Dick whirled on her, startled. It hit him square on the chest, bursting with a splash that soaked Dick and simultaneously coated him in glitter. Steph took a second to admire her work before giving a whoop and sprinting away.

She ducked into a spare bedroom and shoved herself under the desk. When she heard Dick run past she wiggled out and doubled back. Her remaining balloons were still intact but Steph needed to regroup with the rest of her team. Her route through the Manor was a bit overkill in how elaborate it was, a way to keep herself from being found and followed as well as to throw off suspicion on where their base of operations was.

She reached the laundry room and lightly knocked three times before slipping through the door. Damian and Jason looked up at her from where they were making more glitter balloons in the sink. “Dick now looks more disco worthy than his old costume,” she said smugly.

“Ha! Nice. Is it just Cass left?” Jason asked. He deftly tied a balloon shut before adding it to the pile already filling a laundry basket they had commandeered.

“And Father. Unless we want to rescind Gordon’s immunity?” Damian raised a brow.

Jason shook his head. “We want Barbie to give us the video footage of this, we are not pissing her off.”

“Yeah, and I have to work with her. I’m not gonna go anywhere near her with one of these babies,” Steph said.

“-tt- Cowards.”

“So you’re going after Bruce?” Steph shot back at the youngest bird. She placed her hands on her hips as she raised a brow.

Damian sneered and Jason laughed. “Nah. B is mine. You two get to take Cass.”

“That hardly seems fair to Cassandra,” Damian said.

“Lookit ninja boy, we just went over the fact that I’m not stupid. You wanna take on the much older and more skilled ninja girl by yourself then be my guest.” Stephanie perched herself on the counter and carefully added more balloons to her bag.

Jason snorted. “Yeah Demon Brat, have fun and good luck. It was nice knowing you.”

Damian gave a short -tt- but was obviously defeated. He pulled on an overly large sweatshirt and started filling the pocket with balloons. Jason got rid of the evidence and grabbed the laundry basket with the remaining balloons for himself.

“Ok Dead Robins Club, I need a status report.” He looked at them seriously and Steph couldn’t stop her snort.

“Drake was taken completely unaware but has since notified the others via text message. Thomas was resigned to his fate but Grayson and Cassandra made attempts to avoid theirs.” Damian said equally serious.

Steph burst out laughing. The plan to glitter the others as a loving prank had been her own but she didn’t think that the boys would actually be down for it. It had turned their day into a quasi-spy mission and was a lot of fun.

“And Steph just took care of Dickiebird and I got Harper as soon as she stepped foot in the manor.” Jason nodded.

“Ohmygod. She was so confused and pissed!” Steph laughed. Damian smirked and surprisingly offered a fist bump which she eagerly accepted.

“Barbie is on our side, Bruce is oblivious, Alfred cannot know or I won’t get good cooking for a month, and Cass is on the run.”

Damian gave a curt nod and Steph jumped down. “That sounds right. So you’re going to hope Dick hasn’t tattled on us and surprise Bruce while we’re going after Cass. Alright team! Let’s do this!” She grinned at the boys who smiled back for once.

They crept out of the laundry room and Jason waved as he headed towards the study. Steph and Damian went the opposite way in search of Cass. They knew she would be expecting them by this point but if she would try and avoid the glitter or embrace it was unknown. The first place they were going to check for her was the smaller, secondary ballroom that Bruce had converted into a dance studio for her. Their route there was just as circuitous as Steph’s route to the laundry room. Doubling back multiple times and going out of their way in an attempt to not run into Alfred. As they neared the studio the sound of music could be heard from within.

Steph grinned at Damian who looked a tad surprised. She assumed he wasn’t expecting it to be so easy. Carefully they tiptoed closer and poked their heads into the door. There in the middle of the room was Cass in a ratty pair of pointe shoes practicing her turns. Damian slipped a balloon out of his pocket as Steph grabbed one of her own from her bag.

Cautiously they entered the studio, creeping along the back wall and hoping not to be seen. Suddenly Cass’s voice called out over the music. “Expecting you.” She continued her turns and made no move to run. Damian looked at Steph who just shrugged. Raising their balloons to strike Steph and Damian threw them at Cass with the same accuracy as they threw their batarangs. The other girl simply leapt out of the way, causing the balloons to burst and spatter across the floor.

Damian shared a wide-eyed look with Steph and the two began lobbing the balloons. Cass merely danced around them, avoiding every shot. Only her pointe shoes held any coating of glitter. This was merely because she danced through the puddles.

Finally, Steph and Damian moved to stand on either side of Cass. She gave Steph a wink and a small smirk before spinning on her toes with her arms held out. Steph and Damian both threw one of their last balloons. This time they shattered against Cass and doused her in glitter. She smiled as she admired her wet arms sparkling in the light. After a few seconds Cass returned to her dancing and Damian walked over to Stephanie.

His expression was puzzled, his brow pulled low over his teal eyes. “What was that about?”

Steph shrugged and Cass gave a soft hum before replying “Needed to earn it.”

Steph burst out laughing as her best friend smiled. Of course Cass wanted to be glittered, they just needed a dose a karma after sneaking up on the others. Steph ruffled Damian’s hair as he grumbled and swatted at her hands. “C’mon Dami, let’s find out how Zombie Boy fared.”

As it would happen, Jason had not fared well. He had successfully glitter bombed Bruce, just as Alfred walked in to the study. To say the elderly gentleman was not pleased with their shenanigans for the day would be a severe understatement. Both Steph and Jason were banned from the grounds, with the exception of the cave, for an indefinite amount of time. Meaning they were also not going to be the recipients of Alfred’s famous culinary skills during that time either. Damian was grounded from patrol and given an extensive chore list, he was not allowed out again until the list was finished.

Jason was pouting as he walked with Steph down the manor’s front steps. She was trying to console him to no avail when both of their phones went off. Each of them had received an email from Babs containing the footage of the day’s glitter attacks. Jason smiled as he watched Dick from three separate angles, thanks to the manor’s excellent security and Barbara’s overall skill and mischief of her own. “Alright, getting banned was worth it for this alone,” Jason laughed as he watched the video of Dick again.

Steph chuckled. “Totally. And they’re so gonna get us back and it’s not like we’re banned forever.”

“And Damian needs to learn how to do chores eventually. Otherwise he’ll turn out like Tim and none of us need that.”

Steph laughed as she reached her parked car and Jason his motorcycle. “So overall a win for the Dead Robins Club?”

Stuffing his phone in his pocket he pulled on his helmet and swung a leg over his bike before replying. “Definitely.”

Steph smiled as she watched him peel down the gravel drive. She took one last look at the manor she was temporarily barred from before getting in her own car and heading home. She would find out soon enough that its residents were plotting their revenge.

[kurtsvonneslut]

All Good Things (Draft)

Aug 6, 2015 by Ella Jayne

(first draft written in one night; I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to come back to revise it or not)

Cass meets the love of her life on a Wednesday morning.

She walks into Starbucks just like every morning for her same coffee order, waits no more than six minutes, and takes the cup from the pick-up counter when her name is called. It’s utterly routine.

It’s not until she’s on her way out the door that her day runs askew. She doesn’t even see it happening until it’s too late, and she collides with the woman as she turns around, hot coffee spilling all over both of them. “Oh god, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims as the liquid burns her skin.

“It’s fine,” the woman says. She shakes her head and snatches a handful of napkins from the counter nearby, offering half of them to Cass.

They spend a moment cleaning themselves up until finally, finally, Cass looks up and meets the woman’s eye. “I’m Cassandra. Cass, actually,” she says.

“Wendy.” She smiles. “Hi.”

Cass laughs to herself. “What a way to meet someone, right?”

Wendy shrugs. “I think it’s been pretty fun. Other than the first-degree burns, of course.”

“Agreed.”

“So, do you come here a lot?”

Cass grins. It’s a pretty lame line, but somehow, it works. “Every morning around this time.”

“Cool.” Wendy nods thoughtfully. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Maybe you will.”

And she does. Wendy’s there again on Friday morning and they have a nice, albeit awkward, chat about the weather and the city.

Wendy doesn’t ask her out until a week later, but when she does Cass doesn’t waste a single second before she agrees. She doesn’t care about looking too eager. She wants Wendy to know she’s excited.

When Wendy’s beat-up old VW pulls up outside Cass’s apartment building that night she’s waiting by the window with an excitement she doesn’t think she even wants to contain. “Hey,” she says as she closes the car door.

Wendy grins. “You ready?”

“Let’s go.”

Wendy switches the car into drive and pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road, and neither of them glance behind them even once.

~*~

Wendy doesn’t propose on one knee. In fact, she doesn’t even propose at all, or at least, she doesn’t try to. In hindsight, maybe that was more significant than she thought.

They delivered the champagne to the wrong table, that’s all. But when Cass finds the ring in the bottom of her glass she gasps, throwing a hand to her mouth as she pulls the glittering diamond out of the flute. “Holy shit,” she whispers. “Are you for real right now?”

“Um.” Wendy squirms in her seat. She can feel the other couple staring at them, can hear the man nervously explaining to his girlfriend what’s going on, can hear her equally amazed gasp.

Once they take their ring back and get engaged, Cass sits quietly in her chair and doesn’t say anything for a while.

“You’re disappointed,” Wendy says.

“I thought you were proposing.”

Wendy chews on the inside of her cheek. She’s still a bit uncertain about what she’s about to do, but she’s pretty sure she’ll be with Cass forever and that hurt look on her face is killing her. “What if we did get married?”

Cass furrows her brow and looks up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I want to marry you. And you clearly want to marry me. So… I think we should.”

Slowly, a smile breaks out on Cass’s face. “You’re serious? You’re proposing to me?”

Wendy grins back and reaches across the table to grip Cass’s hand. With every second that passes by, her uncertainty fades. Nothing that makes Cass smile like that could ever be wrong. Right? She squeezes Cass’s hand. “Let’s do it.”

~*~

The day of the wedding is bright and sunny, and sees a smiling couple in thirty-dollar sundresses. They hold it at the courthouse, just the two of them and their newborn son. It’s not as though their parents were going to show up anyhow.

They honeymoon on the beach in Barcelona, and Wendy finds that it’s impossible for her to regret marrying this smiling, laughing woman who’s happier right now than Wendy’s seen her in a long time. “Mrs. Ash,” she murmurs, catching Cass around the waist and pulling her close.

Cass smirks. “You love saying that, don’t you?”

“I really do.” Wendy kisses her just briefly enough to count. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Cass gently runs her fingers over Wendy’s stomach. “I still think these are pretty.”

“Yeah?” Wendy covers her wife’s hands with her own, both sets of fingers tracing the silvery-white lines on pale skin. “They made something really pretty.”

“I miss him.”

“Me, too. But we’ll be home in a week to see him.”

Cass smiles. “You’re right. Let’s enjoy this before we have to go home to a screaming baby.”

“Come on, they’re selling gelato over there that looks amazing.”

Cass raises her eyebrows. “I’ve never had authentic gelato.”

“Me neither.” Wendy takes her hand and their fingers automatically fold around each other. “You wanna check it out?”

“Only if you’re paying.”

Wendy bumps her shoulder with a soft grin. “We’re married now, remember? Every dollar either of us spends is our dollar.”

Cass leans in to press a kiss to Wendy’s cheek. “It’s the thought that counts,” she murmurs. “If you love me, you’ll pay.”

“Okay. I’ll pay.”

~*~

Wendy and Cass have always fought. It’s just how they are, volatile and terrible at communicating with each other. However, it seems to get worse after the honeymoon.

They never lived together before they were married. It’s definitely an adjustment. Especially for Cass, learning to live in a house with her new wife and their newborn son.

Their first fight as a married couple takes place two weeks after they get home from Spain, when Cass finds a pack of cigarettes in Wendy’s car. “What are these?” she demands, waving the pack in front of Wendy’s face.

Wendy bites her lip and glances away. She doesn’t respond.

“You told me you quit. Two years ago.”

“I did.”

“So why do you have a pack sitting in your car?” Cass sighs. “Damn it, Wendy, look at me. Why do you have this?”

Wendy sighs. “I still sometimes have one when I’m upset. But seriously, like, once in a blue moon.”

Cass drops her head into hands and rubs tight circles on her temples. “You can’t just have one every so often. That defeats the point of quitting in the first place.”

“Just listen-”

“I’m not letting you do this to yourself anymore,” Cass cuts her off. She flicks open the top of the pack and dumps the remaining cigarettes into the garbage can, the box itself following it. “I’m not going to sit here and watch you die because you’re too stubborn to just stop.”

Wendy clenches her jaw. She doesn’t take well to being bossed around. Never has. “You know I can always just buy more.”

“And I can always just get rid of those, too. It’s time for you to make a choice, Wendy. Your cigarettes or your family.”

Instead of answering, Wendy simply snatches her phone from the kitchen table and storms out of the room in a fit of rage. She knows in the back of her mind that Cass is right, but she’s always hated being told what to do.

They say that hindsight is 20/20. Looking back on it, Wendy can clearly see that this was the day the divorce really began.

~*~

 It’s 2:47 in the morning and Cass is awake. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing sleep out of her eyes. “Do we have to do this now?”

“It’s killing me not knowing where we stand,” Wendy says. She paces back and forth in front of Cass with her arms crossed.

“It’s three in the morning. We can’t even wait until a decent hour?”

Wendy shakes her head. “I won’t be sleeping tonight.”

“Fine. Tell me. What’s got you so up in arms that you can’t even sleep?”

“You forgot to buy my barbeque chips from the store today.”

Cass narrows her eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“It’s not just the chips, okay? It’s what the chips represent. I feel like you just don’t even care anymore.”

“I’ve got a lot on my mind. I don’t always have time to remember your potato chips.”

Wendy flops face-down on the bed. “I thought I was supposed to be on your mind,” she says, voice muffled by the mattress. “That’s what you said when we got married.”

Cass is quiet for a long time, and the only sound in the room is ragged breathing and the ticking of the clock on the wall. “Things change. People change.”

Wendy lifts her face out of the mattress and flips over to look Cass straight in the eye. “I never thought we would change.”

Another long moment of silence passes through the room. Cass sighs. “I don’t know why you had to bring this up now.”

“Do you still love me?” Wendy asks as though Cass had never spoken. Her voice has a timidity about it that reminds Cass of a child terrified of being scolded.

“There’s always going to be something between us, you know that.”

“Do you still love me?” she repeats, and this time there’s nothing weak about the way she says it. This time she’s all tooth and claw.

Again, Cass doesn’t respond immediately. She avoids Wendy’s eyes and when she finally does answer it’s with a voice fainter than a whisper. “I don’t know.” She’s not sure if it’s guilt or relief she feels at having finally said it, and when she glances over a similar disarray of emotions are displayed on Wendy’s face.

Wendy nods slowly. “Okay.”

They sit there for a while. Neither of them speak, and neither of them move. “So is this it?” Wendy asks finally.

“What do you mean?”

“If I gave you an out right now, would you take it?”

“Is that what you want?”

Wendy runs a hand through her hair with a sharp laugh. “How am I supposed to know what I want?”

“Then I suppose we’re going to have to tell Connor.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Cass taps an irregular rhythm on her thigh with her middle finger. “We should wait until morning.”

“Right.” Wendy stands up. “You go back to bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” She silently gathers her pillow and an extra blanket and heads for the bedroom door.

“Wendy?” Cass calls.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Wendy smiles, but her eyes tell a much emptier story. “Yeah. We can traumatize our kid together. One last hurrah before the divorce, right?” She shakes her head. “Good night, Cass.”

“Good night.”

Wendy closes the door behind her and Cass is left in the dark bedroom by herself. She lies down on the bed and glances at the clock.

It reads 3:14am when she finally drifts off into the peaceful and untroubled darkness of sleep.

~*~

Wendy closes the door with a sigh. “I just dropped Connor off at Mollie’s.”

Cass nods. “This is happening, then.”

“I guess so.” Wendy shifts her weight from foot to foot while she searches for what to say. She’s never been particularly articulate, and with the raging torrent of conflicting emotions in her mind she finds herself falling completely silent in Cass’s presence. “I thought maybe we could ride up together.”

“Why?”

Wendy shrugs. “I don’t know. So we could talk, I guess. We haven’t talked about this since we told Connor.”

“I don’t know what you think we can accomplish in forty minutes.”

“Who says we have to accomplish anything?”

Cass shakes her head. “I think it’d be best if we drove separately.”

“Cass. Please, just give me this.”

“What is it you want?”

“Another forty minutes with you.”

Cass doesn’t answer at first. “Get your jacket,” she says after a moment. “It’s cold outside.”

Wendy smiles broadly and snatches her leather jacket off the hook by the door on their way to Cass’s car. “So,” she says once they’ve been on the road for a while.

“You wanted to talk. So talk.” Cass’s hands grip the steering wheel hard enough to turn her knuckles white, and her jaw is set in a way that’s anything but inviting.

“I wanted a conversation. You know, where both people actually participate?”

“Wendy, just talk. I’m sure I’ll jump in.”

Wendy leans an elbow on the cupholder and rests her head in her hand with a long sigh. “This is part of the issue. You’re so defensive you won’t even talk to me without getting pissed.”

Cass lets out a short laugh completely void of mirth. “That really is rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Are we just going to sit here and pretend you’re some communication guru?” Cass shakes her head. “You barely even talk to me about Connor anymore.”

“Yeah, because you’re never even home anymore. You’re always off avoiding us somewhere. I’m not gonna put his life or mine on hold because you can’t take some fucking responsibility.”

Cass’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Is this why you wanted to ride with me? So you could tell me everything I’ve done to destroy our marriage?”

“I just wanted to spend every second of our last few hours together actually together.” Her hand moves to Cass’s arm like second nature, fingers tracing gentle patterns on her wife’s sleeve. She sighs heavily. “I guess I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

“I can’t either.”

“So why are we?”

“Wendy, don’t.”

“No, I’m serious.” Wendy sits up in her seat and pulls her hand away from Cass. “We can make this work, can’t we?”

Cass shakes her head. Her lip trembles just the slightest bit. “Our relationship has been falling apart for the past year. We can’t keep holding onto something that isn’t there.”

“I know.” Wendy’s voice is barely audible over the rush of traffic outside the car. “I’m just afraid of what’s gonna happen if I let go.”

Cass drops one hand from the wheel to catch Wendy’s and squeeze it. “We’ll be okay,” she murmurs. “I promise you we will.”

Their hands are still clasped when Cass pulls into the parking lot of the law firm and shuts off the engine. “Are you ready?” she asks, avoiding eye contact with Wendy.

Surprisingly, Wendy finds that she’s not even lying when she says, “Yeah. I am.” They exit the car and walk to the doors of the office, separate but together. Always together.

~*~

Wendy sighs when she opens the door. “You’re early. He’s not home from school yet.”

“I know. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, shit. If only you’d wanted to do that during the entire last year of our marriage.”

Cass rolls her eyes and walks into the house as though it’s still hers. “I see you’re not wearing your ring anymore.”

“I see you still are.”

“What did you do with it?”              

“Why do you care?”

“Because I don’t know about you, but I do place some merit in our time together."

“Oh, drop the fucking act, Cassandra.” Wendy reaches into her pocket for her pack and a lighter. “We both know why you’re here. And I’m not giving it back.”

Rather than reply, Cass snatches the cigarette from Wendy’s mouth and puts it out in a nearby glass of water no one seems to be drinking. “I won’t have you smoking while you still live in a house with my son.”

“Our son.”

“And who’s going to take care of him when you get lung cancer?” Cass continues as if Wendy never spoke. She’s always been like that; barreling over everyone in her path to keep the upper hand.

“I’d hope you would.”

Cass shakes her head. “Connor hasn’t given up on you yet, and that’s the only reason I haven’t either,” she sighs as she sits down on the couch.

Wendy scoffs, pairing it with a strange, ill-fitting grin. “You really are fucked up, aren’t you?”

“What did you do with the ring I bought you?”

“It’s in my jewelry box. And you’re not getting it unless you tell me why you want it.”

Cass doesn’t meet Wendy’s eyes. She focuses on the tightly woven threads in the couch. “I paid a lot of money for it.”

“Try again.”

“Excuse me?”

Wendy crosses her arms. “Look, Cass, the fact that we got a divorce doesn’t change anything. I still know you better than anyone.”

“I just want it, okay?” Cass sighs. She rubs at her temple with a hand, letting her eyes fall shut. “It reminds me of a better time. That’s all.”

Neither of them say anything for a moment. Wendy sighs. “I’ll be right back.” She returns a minute later with her fist clenched around something. “Here.” With a strange gentleness about her, she drops the ring into Cass’s palm. “Connor will be home in about twenty minutes. You wanna wait here?”

Cass nods. “I guess I can stay.”

~*~

Connor’s sixth grade band concert sees Cass and Wendy sitting beside each other in the third row.

“How are you?” Wendy asks.

Cass smiles. “I’m good. I’m seeing someone new, actually.”

Wendy lifts an eyebrow. If she’s being honest, she’s more surprised at her lack of jealousy than at Cass’s new relationship. “What’s she like?”

“Very sweet. Not nearly as damaged as you and I.” She chuckles. “I don’t think it’s built to last, but it’s a nice change.”

“Yeah, sounds like it.”

“What about you?”

Wendy shrugs. “No one yet, but I’m definitely in the market. So hey, if your girl has any single friends you can totally give them my number.”

Cass throws her head back in a hearty laugh, and for a second Wendy’s struck by the simplicity of the moment. They’re interacting right now with more ease and comfort than they ever did as a couple. “I’m sure someone will come your way soon,” she says after a moment. “I mean, you’re a catch.”

“Thanks.” Wendy smiles. This might be better for them, she thinks, just being friends and co-parents. There’s much less room for heartbreak. “Oh, I quit smoking. Like, for real this time.”

“You did?”

“Haven’t bought a pack in four months.”

Cass smiles broadly. “I’m proud of you. I know that was hard for you.”

Wendy wants to say more, but the lights in the small auditorium dim and the curtain rises, and they both turn their attention to the stage to watch their son play.

It’s amazing how companionable they both are this way, cheering when Connor finishes his solo without missing a single note, exchanging smirks when he trips over a music stand during his bow, whispering to each other between songs. It’s almost like they were always meant to be friends.

Cass was right on the night of their big decision; there’s always going to be something between them. Wendy is never going to regret loving her. But this, where they ended up in the aftermath, is somehow so much better.

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Birthday Wishes

A very Happy Birthday to @pansexualcassiecain!!! May your day be filled with cake and love! And of course Cass.

Cass rolled over and stretched, kicking the blankets that had tangled themselves around her legs off of the bed. Groping the nightstand for her phone she squinted at the bright screen as she sat up. Roughly ten different text messages glowed at her, fighting to be opened first, all with various phrases of the same sentiment. She smiled and tapped her passcode in as she made her way to the kitchen and the food it held. 

Leaning against the counter Cass couldn’t stop herself from laughing into the apple she had grabbed for breakfast. The very first message she opened had been Steph’s and it contained a video her best friend had obviously compiled over the course of patrol the night before. Hopping onto her kitchen counter Cass turned the phone’s volume and got comfy as she tapped the screen to make it play.

“CAAAAAASSSSSS!!! IT’S YOUR DAY OF BIRTH!!!” Batgirl yelled at the camera. “As such I have taken it upon myself to gather you well wishes. This will likely need editing...” Batgirl trailed off and a look of concern flashed across her face before she immediately perked up, “Really O? Thank you! So what that was was that Oracle just said that she’d help me edit the video so Operation Birthday Wishes for Black Bat is a go!” The camera, Cass figured Steph had been using her phone to record this, turned around and she got a great view of the Gotham skyline as Batgirl fired a grapple and jumped off the roof with a woop.

The video then cut to an image of Red Robin in an alley cuffing a couple of thugs. “Double R! Redbird! My man, my boyo, my bestie!” Steph called from off screen. Tim looked at Steph and even Cass could tell he was quirking an eyebrow at their blonde friend from under his cowl. She stifled a laugh at the expression she knew she would later screen shot. 

“Batgirl? I- do I want to know?” Red Robin asked as he straightened up and nudged the thug slightly more to the side. 

“I’m gathering birthday wishes for Black Bat!” Steph told him, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet if the video’s shaking was any indication. 

Tim grinned, “Ok. What do you want me to say?” he stepped closer to Steph and the camera. 

“Whatever you want! But keep it PG,” she replied. 

He laughed, “My name is Red Robin, not Red Hood. Alright. Happy Birthday Black Bat! You’re my favorite sister, even if you weren’t my only sister, and I’m honored to call you that.” He glanced down at the thug on the ground then back to the camera, “Yeah, he’s unconscious enough for this. Cass, you are an amazing dancer, fighter, and person. I’m so glad to know you and have the opportunity to work with you and learn from you. I missed you and can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re back in Gotham. I hope you have a wonderful birthday and by sure you stop by the manor at some point because you deserve cake.” He smiled and waved at the camera.

“Aw, that was sweet Timmy.” 

“Thanks. Now do you mind giving me a hand?”

The video cut to a rooftop, or at least Cass guessed it was a rooftop because the footage was shaking like crazy. “Red Hood! Wait! Agh! O? A little help on this one?” Steph shouted as she ran. The shaking and presumably Steph slowed as the figure she had been chasing stopped. “Thanks. I owe you like times a million at this point. Hood! Just two minutes! For Cass!”

Her brother crossed his arms over the red bat on his chest, “Fine. But only because I like Black Bat and Barbie asked nicely.”

“Um ouch.” Steph sassed as she adjusted her phone. “So I’m recording well wishes for Black Bat’s birthday. If you could just be nice for like two minutes I swear I’ll not bother you for the rest of the month.”

Jason laughed as he removed his helmet, just leaving the red domino underneath. “We both know that’s a false statement Blondie. Alright,” he addressed the camera, “Cass you are one helluva gal. Honest. You’re one of the few people in our messed up family that I actually like and that’s saying something cause you regularly eat my food.You’re goofy and have a heart that’s about six sizes too big. So double the Grinch’s!” He grinned at his own joke and Cass laughed as on the recording Stephanie groaned. “No comments from the peanut gallery,” Jason told Steph pointing a finger at her. “So yeah. Keep being awesome and have a great birthday sis.”

“Thank you Jason!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just make sure Oracle knows that I’m expecting that takeout when I get back.” With that he put his helmet back on and jumped off the roof.

“Well somebody sure knows how to make a dramatic exit,” Steph mumbled causing Cass to lose it. She accidentally hit her head on the cabinet and pausing the video went to get ice.

Coming back she tapped play and the screen cut once more to a different roof, “C’mon Damian. It’s for Cass and you love her.”

“-tt- I do not.”

“You like her better than you like me.”

“I tolerate you Brown, I respect Cassandra. There is a difference or shall I get you a dictionary for your own birthday?” Her youngest brother snarked as he appeared on screen, sitting on the roof polishing his katanna.

“Fine. Whatever. But if you really respected her you would tell her so and since I am putting this together for her birthday...”

Robin tilted his head up and glared, Cass smiled because no matter how menacing he thought that face made him look she thought it made the baby bat down right huggable. “-tt- Fine.” He rearranged his features into a more pleasant expression before beginning, “Cassandra. You are a superb fighter with whom I am honored to train. Your discipline and skill is commendable and near incomparable. You are also a graceful dancer and have taught me much about how to be ���normal’. Thank you for your companionship and may you have a pleasant birthday. That good?” Damian asked as he returned his attention to the sword in his lap.

“I honestly don’t know what that was but I’m gonna take it. Thanks Dami!” With that Steph must have took off running once again because the camera suddenly shifted and the images blurred. Cass burst out laughing at the still audible “No names in the field fatgirl!”

The video next cut to an image of the cave where still in his Nightwing suit but the mask discarded Dick was practicing he gymnastics. “Yeah! Anything for Cass!” He said as he flipped himself onto his hands and walked on them to where Steph must have been standing at the edge of the mats. Flipping himself back onto his feet he grinned at the camera. 

“Showoff.” Cass muttered with a grin at her brother. 

“Cass, you are one of the kindest, most selfless people and I’m proud to call you my little sister. I love watching Disney movies together and when we dance and play tag. Thank you for braving my cooking and always watching over Tim and Steph. I hope you have an excellent birthday and I promise we’ll have another movie marathon soon.” He then grinned and blew a kiss to the camera. Cass smiled at that, knowing it was his way of trying to speak her language.

“That was cute. Thanks Dick.”

“Anytime. B is poking around the computer if you still need him.” Dick said as he went back to his gymnastics.

“I do, thanks!”

It then cut to an image of Batman silhouetted against the cave’s huge computer screen. “Batman? Do you have a second? It’s for Black Bat’s birthday.”

The large man turned around and pushed the cowl off his face, “For you kids I can always make time.” Cass could just imagine her best friend squirming slightly at that.

“Uh, cool. Um, thanks. So I’m collecting birthday wishes for Cass if you’d like to say anything.”

Bruce nodded and turned to stare directly into the camera, “Cassandra, you are the best daughter any father could hope for and you make us all very proud. I hope you have a happy birthday.” The corners of his mouth twitched up in the barest hint of a smile before he turned his attention back to Steph. “Good?”

“Perfect, thanks B.” The camera then dropped to point at the floor and Steph practically ran away. Once again it swooped to look at Steph, “You got an almost smile out of Batman. You are definitely the favorite.” Cass grinned, she knew she was the favorite.

The next cut was to the manor’s kitchen where Alfred sat at the table with a cup of tea. “A birthday message for Miss Cassandra? I can certainly do that.”

“Aw thanks Alfred!” 

Clearing his throat Alfred smiled at the camera, “Miss Cassandra, you are one of the most beautiful, intelligent, and talented young women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. Your compatriots obviously some of the others,” at this Cass could hear Steph give a soft “aww” and she couldn’t help but blush at the older man’s kind words. “I know that if you even accomplish half as much with the rest of your life as you already have it would be a feat. May you have a wonderful birthday and please stop by for cake.” He gave a short nod and smiled.

“Perfect. Thank you Alfred.”

“Anything for you girls Miss Stephanie.”

The next scene was on the rooftops of Gotham once more and Steph had managed to track down Duke and Harper in the same spot. “I thought we were going to all go get ice cream tomorrow?” Harper asked as she put a hand on her hip.

“Well yeah but I’m doing this too. You really think the boys would get ice cream with us?”

“Touche.”

“I’d get ice cream with you guys.” Duke said looking between the camera and the blue-haired girl.

“Alright, I’ll text you when and where later.” Harper told him with a shrug.

“Alright, on topic I need your birthday wishes for Cass.” Steph told the other teenagers.

“Cassandra the magnificent,” Harper began with a wicked grin. “You my lovely are stunning in more ways then one. You make me laugh constantly and always know exactly what I’m feeling. You are one of my best friends and I’m so happy to have you in my life. I hope that you special day is just as special as you are!” She laughed a bit and made a goofy heart out of her fingers to point at the camera. Cass grinned down at the image and made a mental note to screenshot that later too.

“My turn? Ok, Cass you are truly one in a million. You don’t talk much but that’s never stopped you from teasing me and cracking jokes. You’ve always been nothing but welcoming to me and for that I thank you. I hope that you have a great birthday.” Cass smiled a Duke, the two hadn’t known each other long but they were quickly becoming great friends.

The last cut was to the inside of the Clocktower where Barbara sat in front of her computer screens. “Whenever you’re ready Babs.” Steph said and the redhead nodded. “Cass, when I first met you I had no idea how close we would become but I sure am glad we did. You taught me so much about myself and gave me so much of exactly what I needed when I was in a bad time and that is perseverance. For that I will be eternally grateful. You’re one of my closest friends and I love you like a sister. I hope that you have a very happy birthday. Love ya Cass.” Babs smiled and then repeated her words in sign language and Cass forced herself not to cry because she knew Barbara would tell her that tears shouldn’t be wasted on her.

The camera then spun to show Steph, still in her Batgirl suit but cowl pulled down and blonde hair wildly disheveled. “Cass! I hope that when you wake up and watch this video that it starts your birthday off right. You’re my very best friend and I would honest to god be lost without. The lessons you taught me and the bravery and kindness that you exhibit every day are things I can only hope to strive for. Have an extremely happy, merry, wonderful, all around great birthday! Love you!”

The screen went black before returning to her messaging app. Cass smiled down at the screen before typing out quick thank yous to he family and friends. It was a happy birthday indeed.

Jean, I hope your birthday wishes are just as wonderful as Cass’s. Happy Birthday darling!