#do me a favor and don’t look at Martin’s left foot. just like don’t worry about it

[crit20art]

[ID: a black and white traditional ink drawing of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood from The Magnus Archives, depicted in the final moments of MAG 200. Jon, unraveling into magnetic tape, floats in mid-air while Martin, standing on the ground, begins to drive a knife into Jon’s chest, cutting the tape. Jon gently touches Martin’s face and supports the arm holding the knife, while Martin sobs through gritted teeth and holds onto Jon’s wrist. End ID]

uhhh i decided at 3 AM that i wanted to draw something for @a-mag-a-day reaching MAG200, and then it was 8 AM somehow ? Haha weird anyway totally unrelated but im experiencing shrimp emotions

[blessednereid]

LFLLLL Prologue: Project Partners

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 5k

Taglist: @rogershoe

~

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      You

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While you were in the car, all you could think about was what got you in the position that you were in. With Lydia, with Isaac, caught in the middle of a murder investigation because of your brother and his friend.

Everything that used to make sense to you was crumbling. Your guards and your walls were dissipating with every waking moment. 

It all started in September, and along the twenty-minute drive, you were determined to figure out how you got to your position. Even if it meant going through every single event that has happened since you met Isaac Lahey.

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Project Announcement

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You were in your World History class. The unit you were currently learning about was The Industrial Revolution. Though, you weren't paying attention to the warm-up on the board. Instead, you were listening to Lydia recall the events that lead to her latest hookup before class started.

"So basically after we left the club, he told me that he wanted to show me something at his house. Obviously, I was feeling-"

"Alright, class. Settle down." Your teacher, Mrs. Goldblatt, had started speaking, and Lydia quickly stopped talking. The last time Lydia was caught talking over Mrs. GB was the previous year, and she had detention for half a month and missed practice.

"Today, I'm assigning you a project. Yes, you will be working in pairs. No, you won't get to choose your partners."

She turned to the board and wrote the words 'European Industrialization'. 

"You will make a presentation about a country, as well as the ways they used industrialization. And you will add how it relates to modern industrialization today."

You groaned, but the rest of the class stayed silent. Your teacher didn't seem to notice as she continued speaking. 

"You will write on a slip of paper the names of a maximum of two students who you cannot get along with and give it to me in five minutes. I don't want any arguments in my class."

You took a slip of paper from your bag and wrote the names: Christina Goldblatt, your teachers' daughter, who was a stuck-up brat, and Isaac Lahey. You had heard from former partners of his that he was quiet and hard to read. Seeing as how you had to communicate actively with a partner, you felt like you couldn't work with him. 

"Also, seeing as how there is one extra student in this class, my daughter Christina has elected to work by herself."

The five-minute timer soon went off, and everyone walked to the front to give their teacher a white sheet of paper with their name and one or two more on it.

Once she had the slips of paper, she began working on partner assignments. She told the rest of the students to work on their nearly due classwork and then finish missing work.

You had decided to ignore her and work on your one missing assignment. You felt like you would be able to focus more without the worry of finishing it later. 

Within twenty minutes, she had finished the pairings and called out names. Apparently, these would also determine your seating positions for the rest of the project duration, which would last three weeks.

She called out the names starting in alphabetical order, skipping names she had already called with their partner. You only paid attention to the pairings of your friends.

"Mahealani, Danny, and Martin, Lydia." Lydia tried to argue her way into working with you, which only prompted your teacher to threaten her with another detention.

"McCall, Scott, and Stilinski, Stiles," she said, which was confusing seeing the chaos they caused when together.

She went through all the names, even down to the Z's skipping your name. Lastly, there were four people left. 

"Zabka, Madeline, and Zabka, Madison," she finished.

Finally, there were just two people left: You and Isaac Lahey. You knew this was why she skipped you. She had heard your protests when she started every lesson. You assumed she ignored it because she favored you for some reason. When in reality, she was pairing you up with the one person whose personality most clashed with yours. 

"But, Mrs. Goldblatt, why can't I work with Lydia? Lydia and I do projects well together, and we have a good partnership."

"Ms. Stilinski, I already told you that you can't pick your partner. Have a seat!"

You smiled bitterly, and though you gracefully walked to your assigned seat, on the inside, you wanted to storm out of the classroom and sulk in the library. 

Spurs of conversation spun about in front of you, and the lack of communication between you and your partner made you feel like you were stuck in the worst corner of hell. It made you feel lonely when you weren't alone.

You glanced at your partner, who was beside you. His head was down, and his eyes refused to look anywhere but his paper. He didn't look like he was focused, more like he was trying to look anywhere that wasn't you. 

"So, it looks like we're partners…" you said wistfully. 

He looked at you and shrugged before his eyes darted back to his desk, and he found the wood chippings on the side more enticing than before.

"You do know you have to talk to me if we're going to do this project. You have to talk to me."

He glanced your way, and you now held his attention, but his silence was unwavering. 

"Say something, please?" He remained silent. 

You groaned and banged your head on the desk.

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Mall (One Week Later)

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"Lydia, I just can't do it," you said before sipping your strawberry lemonade cooler. You were on your lunch break at your job, and Lydia had come to visit you. 

"He's so hard to work with. We've had three meetings, and he hasn't said a single word to me. The most he's said is correcting me on a grammar error through a piece of paper."

You popped another pretzel nugget into your mouth. 

"I just don't know, Lyds."

"Well, hun." She sighed. "Maybe try getting to know him."  

"Lydia," you uttered stolidly. "He won't talk to me. How will I get to know him."

"Take him out to a park. Spin him around on those merry go round until he pukes. Then he'll be forced to talk."

"Lydia, I don't want him to hate me.

"I don't know. I just wish that GB gave me detention instead of partnering me with him."

Lydia sighed. "Y/n, go do something fun with him in an environment that doesn't make you wanna pull your pretty gorgeous hair out."

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Carnival

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When Isaac came over to your house the next day, you already had your jacket on and convinced Stiles to let you take the car. 

You led him out to the Jeep, and both hopped inside. When you started driving, Isaac was confused, but he still didn't say anything. 

"Isaac."

He turned his head and hummed. 

"I could be kidnapping you, and you still won't talk to me…" you remarked.

He turned his attention back to the window without saying another word. 

You parked a decent distance away from your destination, wanting to see Isaac's reaction when he saw the carnival.

You began walking in silence, but somehow today, it was a peaceful silence. You thought that maybe it was the anticipation of the festivities or the notion you had that today would be the day he said something to you.

You paused for a moment, which prompted him to do the same. He turned to you, and you stepped forward and grabbed both his hands. His four fingers rested between your thumbs and the side of your pointer fingers calmly, and his thumb caressed your wrist absentmindedly.

"I don't know…" you tapped your foot while speaking. "I don't know why you don't like me. And I'll admit, maybe trying to get rid of you as a partner was a surefire way to get started off on the wrong foot." 

Isaac's brows remained furrowed, and his gaze was fixed on you. 

"But I want to change that… If you'll let me. Because you seem like a really cool person, and I want to get to know you."

Isaac pulled his hands out of yours and started walking in the direction that you lead him. You sighed at the action before he turned around.

"Where are we going?" he said blankly, but his voice made you smile. You started running ahead of him.

"Follow me!" 

You both broke off into a run and only slowed down when you neared the entrance of the fairgrounds. You purchased two tickets for both of you before dragging Isaac inside the black metal gates.

"Ah, so this is where you're kidnapping me… Alright, where do I go to be tied up, Ms. Stilinski? And would this interfere with your dads' job perchance?"

His voice made you smile and laugh, and then he began to laugh as well. 

"I'm sorry, that was a bad joke," he said, still laughing. 

"No! It was a great joke."

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the line for the carousel. 

"You know, I've never actually been to a fair," you muttered. 

"Me either. My mom used to tell me she would take me on my birthdays, but something always came up, so she would find creative things to do in the house."

"You make it sound like she can't take you anymore?" you frowned. 

"She can't. She's dead." He said the words so calmly, but it made your heart immediately break into a million pieces.

"How'd she die?" 

"Car crash."

You faltered. "I'm assuming you don't want a hug?"

"Why would you assume that?"

"When my mom died, people always gave me hugs as if that would bring her back, and I hated it."

"How did your mom die?"

"Frontotemporal dementia," you said. "Incurable."

"Damn," he deadpanned. 

Soon you had reached the front of the line and boarded the carousel. You opted to take the pegasus with wings which were next to the black horse Isaac sat on. 

The horses began spinning, and you noticed Isaac didn't look like he was having much fun.

"You alright?"

"These don't go fast, do they?"

"No, they don't. These rides are meant for kids, Lahey."

"Kids or not, this is way too slow."

When you got off the carousel, you didn't tell Isaac what ride you were going to next. 

"Cover your eyes," you said blankly. 

"There are hundreds of people here, Y/n. I'm not trying to actually get kidnapped."

You chuckled. "Ha-ha, Don't worry, I won't let the monsters get you."

He allowed you to step behind him and cover his eyes, but you were only able to walk a few steps before his height made your arms ache from stretching. 

"Okay, I can't do this. It's whatever."

You laughed. "Just follow me, okay." 

He grabbed onto your arms, and you chose to believe that he had his eyes closed.

You dragged Isaac through the fairgrounds once more before finding your spot in line. You spun him around, facing the opposite way so he couldn't see the ride.

"Do I really have to face the other way?" he said.

"Yes, you do!" you smirked triumphantly.

"Is it just so you can trick me into going back on the carousel?" 

"Maybe…" He chuckled darkly at your comment. 

"You know, I really like hearing your voice," you said calmly.

"Oh yeah? Well, I mean, I do have a pretty good voice."

You chuckled this time, his cockiness ignited something in you, and you felt alive for the first time since you two had started working together. 

"You do… You should let more people hear it."

Every step you advanced in the line caused you to pull Isaac forward, but his mysterious demeanor pulled you to him. 

"Alright, you can turn around now."

When he spun around, he cursed aloud. "Holy shit!"

In front of him stood one of the tallest drop towers he had ever seen.

When you reached the front of the line, you got onto the seats in the tower. Your stomach gurgled angrily in anticipation. 

"You ready?" Isaac asked you. He had a wide grin plastered on his face, and he looked like a kid in a candy store. 

Before you could answer, the tower rocked as it started to move up. 

"Guess it doesn't matter now!"

You both looked out the windows beside your heads. 

It was filled with colors, and everything looked minuscule. 

You were slightly scared of the drop, but you found comfort in Isaac's smile. He never smiled, so for him to smile so brightly, it made you proud that you could draw that emotion from him.

The ride stopped for one minute. Then two. Suddenly it was 5 minutes. 

Everyone began to wonder what had happened to the ride until the sudden drop. 

The ride was filmed with shrilly screams. The sight in front of you blurred with the speed of the drop. Your ears popped from the sudden drop in altitude. Your heart stopped for moments, and you thought for a minute instead of falling back to the ground, you were going to meet your maker. 

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Your screams resonated fear, but Isaac's eyes told you he only felt excitement.

You couldn't feel your hair on your shoulders, and you knew the speed and force were probably holding it in the air. 

The ride had stopped. Your eyes were still bulging out of your head, and you felt sick in your stomach. 

Isaac was still chuckling and didn't look the least bit shaken or stirred.

"HOW CAN YOU BE ALRIGHT AFTER THAT?"

"I don't know, I just felt… Free!"

"C'mon, let's go, weirdo."

Isaac stopped you once you exited the ride and pulled away from the line. 

"Let me pick the next ride, yeah?" Isaac asked you.

"Sure."

He put his hands over your eyes and began pushing you towards your next destination. When he removed his hands, you were at the front of the line to get on the twisting roller coaster.

"We're going on that thing?"

"Yep!"

You blanched. "Isaac, I'll fall out the first time it goes bump."

He pulled you onto the ride anyways and buckled you in so that you couldn't go anywhere. 

"Don' worry, you'll have fun."

"Oh, I know I'll have fun. I'm almost certain I'll die while having fun."

He chuckled and grabbed your hand from your bar that was in front of you. 

"Better?"

You smiled, turned to the front, and waited for the ride to start. 

When the carts began moving, it started at a tortuously slow speed, and you were actually feeling good; you knew that Isaac was probably bored.

"Aw, you picked a slow ride just for me?" you teased.

He simply chuckled before turning his head to the front, and your brows knitted in a frown. 

You gave your attention to where his eyes were, but you didn't see anything that could cause the gleam of deviltry in his eyes. 

He kept checking his watch, but when he did look up from it, he gave you a subtle wink and let go of your hand. 

"AHHHHH!" You shrieked at the top of your lungs when the cart dipped down at the highest speed you thought imaginable.

The blue sky streaked past your view. If you were to imagine how you looked to others, you imagined the flesh around your mouth blowing in the wind cartoonishly and your hair visibly disheveled. You gripped harshly onto the metal rail in front of you, and the bars were so cold from being outside, you thought they would crack had you applied any more force. 

The ride went like this often, going from slow and steady, allowing you to catch your breath, to energetically and rapidly fast, knocking the wind out of you completely. 

"Having fun?" Isaac shouted in your ear, but you could barely hear past the whipping of the wind. 

"NO!" 

Whoops, and cheers could be heard from beside you as Isaac was screaming into the void, and you felt there wasn't enough hot coffee or burning fireplaces that could warm you up after this. 

When the ride had reached its end, you had to blink slowly multiple times to recover from the wind that glazed them with cold air. 

"You!" Isaac chuckled at your tone. "You did this to me! I feel like an ice block!" You shouted sarcastically. 

"Aw, well, let's go warm you up then." 

You growled at him as you got off the cart, but he held you in his arms to warm you up until you were able to get inside the safety of an insulated building. 

"So, you got what you wanted," Isaac said slyly. 

"To have my heart jumping in my body from my shoulders, knees, and toes?"

He chuckled. "No, I mean for me to talk."

"I guess I did."

"Why?"

"I like talking to people, I guess."

He smiled at you, and you reciprocated his grin. 

"So, are we ever going to finish that assignment?" 

"We can go right now and finish it if you want, but we still have two weeks to do it." 

His forehead puckered in thought. "You're right. Let's finish the day here."

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  Research and Reports(One Week Later)

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"Okay, now that we're done with info collection, we have to pick a theme…" you trailed off when you noticed Isaac wasn't paying attention.

"Isaac," you said while snapping your fingers in front of his face.

"You like ABBA?"

"Who doesn't like ABBA? Enough of that, we have to finish working. We only have a week left."

Isaac shot up from his chair and began to inspect the numerous posters on your walls with album covers of your favorite artists, movie premiere covers, pictures of you and your friends throughout the years. 

"This is really cool!"

You sighed heavily. "I know it's cool, but I want to finish this project. I'm on a productive streak."

"We just started school like, two weeks ago. Why do we have a project?" 

"Isaac!"

He raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, fine."

You groaned. "This is pointless. Education is pointless. I'm gonna become a stripper anyway."

Isaac's face heated up. "No, you won't. Your dad would kill you."

"I was actually looking up some themes last night. Put these in your search engine."

"Okay, but wait." You now held his attention. "Who calls it a search engine?" 

You began laughing maniacally, and he grinned. "No, but I'm serious. Who has time to say all of that?"

You did what he told you and put different words related to the industrial period and the words "free theme" in your browser. 

He had found almost five different themes for you to choose one from that would fit your project.

"Just didn't want to do extra work by making our own theme," he said modestly.

Suddenly, he noticed that your phone had a paper towel sticking out of the case and wrapping around the camera.

"Y/n… why is there toilet paper covering your camera?"

"Oh, that. It's so if people try to video-call me, I can lie and say my camera is broken."

"But why?" he asked, concerned.

You sighed. "I just don't wanna show my face to people today." 

"But I can see your face clearly," he squinted while pushing a lock of hair out of your eyesight.

"You're an exception."

"But not the only exception?"

"No, it's you, Stiles, my dad, and Lydia."

He chuckled.

"Let's do this one," you said when you finished analyzing how each theme looked and the possibilities they had. 

You and Isaac began typing on your laptop. You would take turns rotating between typing and reciting in thirty-minute increments. 

By six p.m. that Sunday night, you had practically worked yourself to death and finished the assignment.

When you finished the credits slide, you frowned absentmindedly, but Isaac noticed. 

"What's wrong, you don't like it?"

"No, I like it, it's just that…" you sighed. "We present it, and then what happens?"

"We get a good grade?" Isaac was genuinely confused and didn't know you were talking about what would happen with the two of you and your friendship. 

"Would you say that you only started talking to me because of the project?"

His brows furrowed. "Yes, but wha-"

"And would you say that once the project ends… we would stop talking?"

Isaac sighed once he realized what you meant. "No, Y/n. I genuinely like talking to you." 

Your face heated up at his words, and you felt yourself become at ease. 

"Whew, okay. Nap or TV?" 

Isaac felt himself right back to square one, confusion. "What?"

"Since we're done with the project, do you want to take a nap, or do you want to watch TV?"

"Are you sure your dad doesn't mind?"

"I don't know, but I don't think he would. Stiles always has Scott over. This should be fine. I do it with all my friends."

"O-okay," he murmured. 

You jumped softly onto your bed and shuffled to find the remote, turning on the TV and patting down on the spot beside you. 

"What do you want to watch?"

He told you that anything was fine, so you opted to watch My Babysitters a Vampire. 

He stared at you incredulously. 

You chirped at him. "What is it?"

"No, nothing."

"It has to be something? You don't wanna watch this."

"Alright, fine. It looks like a show for kids!" 

You laughed. "That's because it is a show for kids! But it's interesting, so we're watching it unless you have something better."

When the episode started, you began chanting along with the theme song, and Isaac stared at you with doe-eyes.

When it was finished, you gave his glance your attention. 

"What?" He simply shook his head in response and paid attention to the television.

By the time the next episode started, Isaac's head was on a pillow in your lap. Your legs were crossed, and your fingers threaded their way through his very silky tresses. 

There was a suspenseful moment, and Isaac gripped onto your wrist, making you chuckle in your mind. 

"Oh my gosh, did it just get hot in here?" You were feeling a flash of heat surge through your body and didn't know where it came from.

"Uh, I don't think so? Want me to get you some water?"

"Uh, no, it's fine! I'll just go get us some fruit bars. Do you want Mango or Strawberry?"

After he told you, you went to get a mango pop for yourself and a strawberry one for him. When you reached the kitchen, you splashed water onto your face to cool off. 

You jogged back up the stairs and into your room. "Your strawberry freezy pop is coming right up!"

He giggled at your antics and allowed you to settle back into your position on the bed. 

"Sorry, I watched without you."

"Oh, it's fine. I've seen the entire thing like 3 times."

That night when he left, you had a warm feeling in your heart, but you couldn't place what it felt like exactly.

Before you went to sleep, you made sure that the assignment was saved onto your flash drive and went to bed.

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  Presentations(One Week Later)

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A week later, and it was the first day of presentations. Surprisingly, Isaac volunteered for the pair of you to present first. The nerves in your stomach were fumbling around and curling against each other so roughly you could barely speak. 

Routinely, you and Lydia would go last. Silently comparing your projects with others and finding things your class liked about other presentations that you also did coincidentally. You did this to calm your nerves. But as you were going first, your routine wasn't doable.  

Isaac had finished the slides that he was supposed to say, and then it was your turn. 

You gulped and tried to muster the courage to start saying your lines. You felt sick in your stomach for a while. You felt the room freeze around you as if you were out in the snow with no jacket. You only started feeling more at ease when you felt Isaac's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand soothingly, along with Lydia and Stiles' encouraging smiles in the crowd. You were still nervous, but they were the eyes of your storm.

"Our modern technology today relates to the industrial period because…"

When your presentation was over, you let the applause fill your ears, but that wasn't what made the nerves go away. What made it go away was Isaac's proud gaze beading into your soul, and it made the world fade away. 

Mrs. Goldblatt shooed you both away from the screen and back to your seats but gave you a piece of paper that you assumed was your score sheet. 

You had gotten a 93%, but there was a pink note card that told you to meet her after class along with Isaac.

You sighed heavily and finished the walk back to your seat.

You and Isaac were in the back of the class and were okay to talk without a worry.

"What was that about, Y/n?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighed thoughtfully. "You just froze. I didn't think you froze."

You gulped, wondering whether or not you should share your fear with your new friend.

"I have stage fright..."

"What do you mean? You're a cheerleader. I've seen you perform."

"That's an ensemble act. When I'm by myself like that, I just tense up, and normally I say the wrong things. That's why I always go last."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You dropped your head. "I didn't know you were going to volunteer to go first."

"I always do, to get it out the way." His eyes were soft and caring. 

"It's not your fault Isaac. Besides, I didn't mess up that badly anyway. We're okay."

"But I still wouldn't have done that had I known."

"I appreciate your sympathy, but really, It's okay!" You reassured him softly, and you truly meant it. He had made you get over it, so it felt wrong for you to make him feel bad for something he wasn't aware of. 

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  Student-Teacher Conference

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"Yes, Mrs. Goldblatt?" You spoke nervously while shifting around in the seat in front of her desk. 

"What is it?" she was still facing down to her laptop.

Isaac spoke up. "You wanted to see us?"

She raised her head. "Oh, yes!

"I wanted to tell you why I partnered you both together. In-person that is."

"Y/n, you must be thinking that I did it to punish you."

Isaac interjected. "What do you mean punishment?"

"Ms. Stilinski had put your name down for students she wouldn't work well with."

"But besides that. I didn't do it to punish you. I did it because I wanted you to reach out of your comfort zone. Both of you. Ms. Stilinski, you typically work with people who are very talkative in class. Namely, Lydia. 

"Isaac, I've heard from your partners that you are not as talkative. I put you two together because I knew this assignment would be easy to understand for you both. However, I assume the communication was not as simple?" 

You both shook your heads. 

"No, but you managed through it, and now you both will be able to socialize with people who have more or less social skills than you do."

You glanced guiltily at Isaac, who was avoiding your gaze. You hadn't told him that you put his name down, and while your reasoning may not have been resembling hatred, you thought it would still sting.

"You both may go. Have a good day."

When you walked out of the room, Isaac took off ahead of you. 

"Isaac!" You yelled as you ran to catch up with him through the bustling crowd trying to get to their next class. 

"Isaac, I swear, I only wrote your name down because I wanted a partner that was more… communicative."

"You could've told me," he stated simply, still not looking at you. 

You pulled his arm back to stop him from walking before extending your arm to grab his chin and force him to face you. 

"I'm sorry. It didn't seem important then, but I see how it could look bad now. You're a really great partner, Isaac. And I've said it before, and I'll repeat it, I'd love nothing more than to be your friend."

He exhaled through his nose. "You know, for some stupid reason, I just can't stay mad at you."

You smiled at his words. "I've been told that I have that effect on people."

"See you tomorrow?"

You pushed your eyebrows downwards. "What do you mean? It's a Saturday?"

"For MBAV," he said simply.

"Ohhhh. Gotcha!"

"See you then, Isaac." 

You turned the other way to go to your next class when your cheek was met with a brief peck. 

"See you," he whispered in your ear, but a ghost when you turned around. The action made your heart speed up, and his touch left much to be desired.

[zombified-queer]

Snow Day

A (belated) @sfmsecretsanta gift for @zalenx! You asked for some Martin/Parsley winter fluff, so here it is! Hope you enjoy! :D

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

After the blessings are spoken, it's quiet. The candle burns low, flickering like it might go out. But it keeps finding a way to keep burning.

But the silence is an easy one, just watching the flicker of the flame together. It's not sombre or serious, just the sort of quiet that comes with having nothing to say.

Martin's hand finds Parsley's. Parsley holds it. Martin's fingers are cold.

Finally the flame goes out by itself, snuffed out for lack of things to burn.

"I got you a gift," Martin admits.

"I got you one too."

"You didn't have to," Martin points out. "I got everything I wanted when you came back from that health retreat.”

"Even me being a workaholic?"

"Well, I’ll just have to bring you meals at the offices,” Martin says lightheartedly.

“I’m considering quitting.”

“All of them?” Martin asks, raising a brow. 

"Well, just two of them. We still have a mortgage and bills." Parsley pulls Martin close, putting an arm around his waist. "But what's the point in working all the time if I can't see my husband?"

Martin nods. "I had no idea I was pushing you away like that."

Parsley kisses Martin's temple. "Well, we're a team, right? Those were the vows. Us against the world. We'll make this work."

"I'm not worried about making it work," Martin admits. "I'm worried about you."

Shrugging, Parsley admits, "The work I want to do is not worrying you so much."

Martin cups Parsley's cheek. He's so handsome, Parsley thinks, in the low light of their kitchen. Martin leans in, kissing him.

And everything is so perfect it hurts. Parsley walked away from this. He risked this and for what? The work doesn't compare to this, the feeling of Martin's chapped lips against Parsley's own. Martin's warm.

"Hey," Martin whispers, pressing a kiss to Parsley's jaw. "It's snowing."

Parsley doesn't turn his head to look. He trusts Martin. Out of the corner of his eye, Parsley watches the flakes falling, collecting on the windowsill.

"Think the lake will freeze over?" Martin asks. "We could go skating. Build a snowman."

Parsley nods. He's been working from home these past couple months. One day off won't kill anyone. And he's missed Martin so much.

"Just don't break your leg," Parsley warns.

Martin chuckles. "You'll have to carry me over the threshold and tend to my wounds."

"The only thing I'll carry you into is an ambulance," Parsley teases in kind.

"Ouch. Cold."

But Martin puts his arms around Parsley. They sway, just a little half-waltz in the kitchen. It's nice. Just the two of them. And quiet. A nice little break.

"I bought you a pair of skates," Martin admits. "So we could start going together when the lake freezes."

"I bought you hand warmers," Parsley confesses, hand on Martin's waist. "You're always so cold."

"I won't be cold if you kiss me again."

And Parsley does.

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

In the morning, they check the weather like excited kids. It's snowed, almost a foot deep overnight.

Parsley turns on his work computer in his office long enough to send two resignations and an email stating he's taking the day off. And then he turns it off again without waiting for a single reply.

Parsley wraps a scarf around Martin's neck. "Latkes tonight?"

"But of course!" Martin pecks Parsley's cheek. "I have been looking forward to your latkes all year. I always do."

Hand-in-hand and with their skates, they make their way through the undisturbed snow. It crunches like branches under them, too loud and too much this early. But if they wait, the lake will be overrun with kids happy to skip school in favor of going sledding and skating.

A few times, Parsley stumbles in the snow. Either stepping on unsteady ground or tripping over a boulder on the trail. Every time he stumbles, Martin's right there to help him up. Not without a laugh and brushing the snow off Parsley.

"We're going to have to clear the trail," Martin sighs.

"And salt the sidewalk," Parsley wheezes. "And shovel the driveway."

"I'll take salt duty when we get back." Martin brushes snow from Parsley's hair. "Getting cold?"

Parsley shakes his head. The snow hasn't melted enough to soak into his clothes. He's alright. And Martin kisses his cheek, which makes it better.

By the time they get to the lake, the sun's just coming up, painting everything in shades of gold and rose. Martin gives Parsley's hand a gentle squeeze. 

"It's pretty," Parsley agrees, keeping his voice low. The ice has a tendency to echo whole conversations through the hills. "Beautiful."

Martin hums in agreement. 

They find a downed log, brushing the snow from its surface with their gloved hands. Martin settles, taking his boots off to tie his skates. 

He takes those first few steps carefully before gliding across the ice. Parsley watches, for a moment, reminded that Martin used to play hockey. 

It's a few slow circles across the lake, testing the ice. Every time he pauses to feel the ice under him, Parsley expects to hear that crack of ice and the dreaded splash. But the ice holds under Martin. It groans and creaks at the weight on its surface but holds firm.

"The water's nice!" Martin calls, voice echoing in a thousand different directions. “C’mon, Parsley!”

Parsley shakes his head and settles on the log. It takes him a while to tie his skates. He doesn’t have the muscle memory Martin does. 

In slow, unsteady steps with his arms out for balance, he takes that first unsure step onto the ice. Martin’s right there, helping Parsley up, correcting his form. He keeps a hand on Parsley’s back as they make a slow circle around the ice.

“I think you’re the one who might break a leg,” Martin teases. 

But Martin stays right with him. Martin could definitely skate faster or do some sort of ice tricks Parsley doesn’t understand. Martin stays. And that helps Parsley get a little more confident, gliding across the ice.

“I don’t understand how this was fun,” Parsley huffs.

“This? This is easy.” Martin takes Parsley’s hands, guiding him into a sharper turn. “Now imagine all this with the padding and the helmet and the sticks.”

“Horrible.”

Martin laughs. His voice echoes over the hills. He keeps skating backwards, holding Parsley’s hands to guide him. 

“D’you think you’ll go back to coaching?” Parsley wonders, getting a better feel for the ice. It’s weird this half-walking. “I think a hockey team might be nice.”

Martin hums in thought. “You’re just saying that because I teach.”

“Well...Kind of. I mean you were good. Really good.” Parsley lets go of one of Martin’s hands so they can make slow, lazy circles over the lake hand-in-hand. “I was really intimidated when I saw you on the ice.”

“This isn’t about the Tooth Fairy nickname, right?” Martin groans, shaking his head. “It was one little fight on the ice!”

“A big fight,” Parsley corrects. “But I think that’s when I knew I was terrified of you and loved you.”

“That’s sweet...I think?”

“Well, you were this hulking mass of padding and the other guy was missing his front teeth! Of course I was going to be a little intimidated.”

The whole conversation, their words echo. But it’s nothing they haven’t talked about before, nothing they haven’t acknowledged. It disrupts the quiet like fireworks.

“You just wanted to be bridal carried,” Martin teases, voice soft enough it doesn’t echo. 

Parsley’s face heats up. “Well...kind of. I mean you were taller than me back then. And you were a hockey player which...y’know.”

“Parsley Botch, into being carried.” Martin kisses Parsley’s cheek. “I still could, I bet.”

“You’d hurt yourself,” Parsley fires back. “You’re not the twenty-one-year-old Tooth Fairy you used to be.”

“You’re right.” Martin nods. “When’d we get so old?”

“We’re not that old.”

“Too old to make a snowman?” Martin asks.

“How’re we supposed to decorate it? I don’t have a carrot.”

“Pinecones,” Martin suggests, guiding Parsley to the edge of the lake. “And rocks?”

“He’s going to be one sad snowman.”

“C’mon.” Martin steps off the ice, carefully through the snow, and back to the log they’ve left their boots by. “We’ll make a snowman the neighborhood can be jealous of.”

Parsley follows, less steady than Martin. Once their boots are tied tight, they trudge off to find a nice spot to leave a snowman.

“Here?” Martin asks, pointing at a spot between pine trees that gets a good look at the lake. “Think it’ll last a while?”

Parsley nods. “Plenty of shade. He shouldn’t melt for a while.”

“If we get another blizzard, he sure won’t.” Martin kneels in the snow. “I’ll start the body. Grab some pinecones?”

“Sure.” Parsley trudges through the snow, stopping under the trees to dig out pinecones. He comes back with armfuls. “Think this is enough?”

“More than enough,” Martin says, finishing the body. “Want to help with the head?”

“Sure.”

Together, they pack the snow into an acceptable enough ball, Martin rolling it, then letting Parsley take over for a bit. Both of them place the snowman head on the body, Martin grinning.

“Well, now it just needs a face.”

Parsley nods, taking one of the pinecones. He breaks the scales off, using them to make eyes and a smile. Martin sticks a full pinecone on for the nose. And there’s little pinecone buttons. They add a little shirt collar of pinecone pieces. Even little pinecone sleeves.

By the time they’re done, it’s a snowman worth taking a picture of. 

“Parsley?”

“Martin.”

“I missed this.” Martin takes Parsley’s hand. “Spending time with you. Doing silly stuff.”

“Well, there’s going to be plenty of time to do silly stuff.”

They make their way through the snow, hands held tightly. 

“Movie night?” Martin suggests. 

Parsley shakes his head. “All they put on these days is Christmas movies.”

“What about a horror film?” Martin asks. “We could watch The Thing. It’s a winter movie without any Christmas.”

Parsley chuckles. “Sure. The Thing it is.”

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 19: Martin

It shouldn’t really startle Martin when he falls asleep mid-conversation. After all, it’s been a rather traumatic twenty-four hours, both physically and emotionally. He’s in a decent amount of pain, and he needs rest to heal. He knows all of that, logically. But he’s also never been good at sleeping if there’s anyone else awake in the room, so when he wakes up in a dark room and realizes that the last thing he recalls is Tim starting—but not finishing—one of his terrible jokes, he’s not sure what surprises him more, the fact that he fell asleep or the fact that he actually feels rested.

Sort of, anyway. He’s sore all over—the painkillers have obviously run their course—but he’s not too tired to think, and he’s obviously slept deeply. He stares at the blurry void currently standing in for the ceiling and tries to figure out how he feels about that. It should be a good thing, but it’s…well, there’s no other word for it, it’s weird.

In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that weird. Not as weird as the fact that he’s been talking to a future version of himself for eight days—somehow without knowing he’s blind—or the fact that his future self and Jon’s future self seem insanely close. Not as weird as being held hostage by a woman riddled with worms or attacked in his workplace by that same woman and her moderately-sized army of parasites. Not as weird as entities fueled by fear or an apocalypse being caused by a semi-immortal man currently disguised as an ordinary pencil-pusher. It is, in fact, the ordinary kind of weird, and really, Martin shouldn’t be getting hung up on it. Nevertheless, here he is, unable to understand when he came to trust the rest of the Archival team enough that he feels safe enough to fall asleep while they’re still awake to do things to him.

He really needs therapy, something he’s known for years, but several of the reasons he needs therapy tie into why he avoids therapy and it’s just a whole mess. The only reason he hasn’t done it that doesn’t tie into yet another trauma or blow to his psyche is the fact that he really can’t afford it. He’s barely scraping by as it is, and God only knows how he’s going to manage the need to move. He’s been in the same building for eleven years and rent’s gone up twice, and it’s still cheaper than most other places. Even if he does find someplace that doesn’t cost more, he’ll have to come up with the first month’s rent and the security deposit ahead of time, and then there’s the fact that he’s going to have to replace pretty much everything he owns that he didn’t manage to gather up for his temporary stay in the Archives; Jon and Sasha came back from getting their things and informed him regretfully that Mrs. Mattson had already thrown out what was left in his old flat and rented it out again. Add in the fact that he has to make up almost half of the fees at the home his mother insisted on moving into, and he’s not going to have the spare funds for, well, anything. Let alone therapy.

He sighs heavily and tries to sit up. It’s nice of Tim to let him sleep in the recliner, but when he first wakes up, it’s a bit of a struggle. And he honestly can’t figure out how he keeps lying back, since he’s pretty sure he falls asleep still sitting up. Maybe he’s doing it in his sleep, or maybe he’s just so tired he doesn’t remember settling back. Whatever it is, he discovered yesterday that it’s hard for him to use the appropriate strength to manipulate the recliner back into an upright position. Or at least to do it quietly. The others are still asleep—as far as he knows—and he doesn’t want to disturb them. He can tell himself all he wants that they need rest, that they deserve to have their sleep uninterrupted, that it’s been a rough couple of days for them too, but if he’s being honest it cycles back to his fear of the consequences of disturbing his mother while she was resting. Nine years and he still can’t make himself turn on a light before sunrise if the door isn’t firmly shut or listen to music without headphones after four in the afternoon. He wonders if he’ll ever be free.

The handle engages suddenly and the footrest goes down with a deceptively soft thwump that rocks Martin forward abruptly. He bites back a gasp of pain and waits for the world to stop swimming.

“Martin?”

The whispered call from not far away makes him flinch. Martin looks up, apologies ready on his lips, then realizes he’s not wearing his glasses and has no idea who was talking. He fumbles for them and puts them on just as Jon steps carefully around the end of the coffee table and perches on the end of the sofa next to him.

“I heard you starting to wake up,” Jon says softly. He holds something out—a mug. “I, ah, I was making tea anyway, so I thought…”

“O-oh.” Martin blinks in surprise and reaches out carefully to take the mug. “Ah, thank you?”

Their fingers brush, and it’s all Martin can do not to drop the mug or spill it on himself. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks. God, it’s probably visible even with no lights.

“You’re welcome. I—you do so much for us. It seemed like high time someone did something for you for a change.” Jon pauses, then adds, “I hope I got it right. I—I know I haven’t exactly asked, but it—it seemed like what I remembered from after dinner?”

Martin takes a cautious sip of the tea and nearly chokes in surprise. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He can just make out Jon’s unfairly attractive smile before he brings his own mug to his lips. They sit in silence for a long moment, both of them seemingly lost in thought. Martin isn’t sure how much he’s actually thinking, though, beyond panicking slightly. It’s the first time he’s been alone with Jon, really, since he started living in the Archives. And after the last couple of days…he still has no idea where the two of them stand. If they’re on a friendlier footing, if they’ve found common ground, or if things are going to go back to normal once the initial shock wears off.

“What time is it?” he finally asks.

“About four in the morning. You’ve been asleep roughly nine hours.”

Martin exhales. “Christ, I had no idea I fell asleep that early.”

Jon tilts his head slightly. “Well, you’re healing. You’re likely going to do a fair amount of sleeping. We tried to keep it down.”

“I don’t mean to be an inconvenience like that,” Martin says, his stomach twisting. The idea that everyone has to be quiet because of him…

“Don’t be ridiculous, Martin, you’re not an inconvenience.” Jon sets his mug down on the table and turns to face Martin fully. “I—I know I’ve been overly critical of you over the last year. I really am sorry. I never meant to—I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

“It’s—”

“Don’t say it’s all right. It isn’t. You’ve never been anything but diligent and conscientious, you’ve always gone above and beyond, and I—” Jon exhales. “The truth is, I-I was scared. I didn’t feel…adequate. Like I wasn’t up for the task. I didn’t—I never applied for this job either. Elias picked me, and I had no idea why. I don’t have a background in library science, o-or administration or anything like that. I couldn’t have told you why he offered me the job, but…well, I’m not sure I could have said no if I’d wanted to. A-and then you turned up in my office and said Elias had appointed you, and…I honestly thought he’d sent you to keep an eye on me. To, to report back to him if I stepped out of line or didn’t do the job properly. And then Rosie gave me a copy of your CV and I saw how long you’d been with the Institute, and all your credentials—”

“Most of which were fake.”

“Which I didn’t know at the time. I—I got intimidated.” Jon gives a small laugh. “I saw someone with more experience than all three of us put together and I thought, God, he wanted this job and didn’t get it and now he’s going to be reporting back to Elias every time I step out of line. I kept putting you down on the official recordings because—I don’t know, maybe part of me was hoping it would influence things in my favor if there was ever a dispute? And…I think I was projecting a lot of my own insecurities onto you. I am deeply sorry.”

Well, Jon won’t let him say it’s all right, but…Martin swallows hard and tries to smile. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I should have told you the truth sooner, but…I don’t know. I was afraid you’d fire me.”

“Considering the first interaction we ever had was me threatening you over that dog, I’d be afraid I’d fire me too.” Jon pauses. “I wonder what would have happened if I’d actually tried.”

Martin actually doesn’t want to think about it. He looks into the depths of the mug in his hands, then sets it on the end table where his glasses were previously. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t—oh, you mean the ‘I heard you starting to wake up’ thing? I was already awake.” Jon sighs. “I honestly don’t sleep very well these days. I-it’s not just the nightmares, it’s also…the worrying. About you. All three of you, really, but—you in particular.”

“Me?” Martin’s voice is louder than he means it to be. Tim grunts from somewhere else in the room and both Martin and Jon freeze, but after a moment he makes an odd sort of snorfling sound and seems to settle back into sleep. Martin rubs a hand over his mouth, trying to be careful of the bandages.

“Why me?” he asks, remembering to whisper this time.

Jon is silent for a moment. Martin is about to apologize for having asked when he says, “I could be glib and say it’s because you were the one being stalked by Jane Prentiss, and that is part of it, but…it’s also just that it’s you. It’s not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself just as well as Tim or Sasha can. I do. It’s…I really wasn’t sure before the last couple of days why that was. I’m still not completely sure, but I think I have a bit of a better idea.”

“We worry about you, too, you know.” Martin desperately wants to ask what Jon’s idea is, but he also doesn’t want to pry. “Ask, erm, Martin Prime. I asked him what I could do to help and he said not to let you get hurt and I kind of panicked a little.”

Jon chuckles. “I suppose that is a next-to-impossible task.”

“No, I mean I panicked at the idea that you would get hurt,” Martin says. He wonders how much he can say without betraying how he feels. The Primes are close friends, that much is obvious, but he and Jon aren’t anywhere near that point and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances of even that by blurting out that he’s fallen for his boss like a ton of bricks. This is also probably not the time to bring it up. They’re all a bit…emotionally compromised right now, and he’s still not sure what’s going to happen when the adrenaline of the last two days wears off. Even if Jon’s just said he worries about Martin. Fleetingly, he wonders if Martin Prime ever told Jon Prime how he felt and when, and he wishes it was a question he thought to ask while they had some time alone in the last week. “I-I mean, that was my biggest worry when I realized Jane Prentiss had followed me home, you know? I wasn’t just worried about what she’d do to me. I was worried she might…follow me to the Archives. Come after one of you, but especially you. A-and then when she texted you after I made my statement…” He sighs. “It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. But there was a part of me thinking that if I needed to stay in the Archives, maybe the rest of you should have too, you know?”

“No, you’re—you’re not wrong. Truthfully, that was one of the things that I kept obsessing over last night,” Jon confesses in a low voice. “When I saw—when I realized—” He breaks off and looks away. “All I could think was that something had happened, that you could be hurt, and that you’d been alone and—God, I should have insisted we all stay. Or that you come stay with one of us from the outset. Although in retrospect…I’m not certain what would have happened if your counterpart had been alone in the Archives at the time. Not that I knew he was there, but…”

“Yeah,” Martin says quietly. He swallows against the sudden, unexpected lump in his throat. “I’m—I’m still glad you weren’t there, though. I-I was glad when it happened, and I was even more glad when I saw Jon Prime and…honestly, Jon, this sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Least of all you. O-or Tim,” he adds hastily. “Or Sasha, but, I mean, she didn’t…not in their timeline, anyway.”

“No, but…that doesn’t mean we wanted you to have to get hurt, either,” Jon says. “It’s not exactly a fair trade.” He looks up at Martin. “A-are you in pain? Do you need your painkillers?”

The answer is yes, but Martin fights the urge to nod. “They, ah, they have to be taken with food. It’s—it’s not as bad as it was yesterday, at least.”

“Hold on. I think I can help with that.”

“Jon—” Martin begins, but it’s too late. Jon has already stood up from the sofa and headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Martin swears under his breath in Polish, then manages to get to his feet without hurting himself. He carefully picks up both mugs of tea and follows Jon, a bit more slowly. Partly it’s the pain, partly it’s force of habit. He doesn’t know where the joists or creaky floorboards might be, and it’s still early, he can’t risk waking people up because he’s walking too loudly. He’s already had one close call too many tonight.

He makes it to the kitchen. Jon is messing about with something, using the night-light mounted above the sink to see by. Martin can’t see what he’s doing. He sets the mugs down carefully on the table and asks, “What are you doing?”

Jon jumps and whirls around, brandishing a butter knife in one hand. He relaxes. “Martin—I didn’t hear you come in. I—I just thought—” He gestures at the counter. “It’s not much, but I thought I’d make you a sandwich at least. Get something in your stomach so you can take the pills.”

“You really don’t have to do that,” Martin protests, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-I can wait until—”

“I’m sure you can, but there’s no reason you should,” Jon says briskly. “It’s been enough time that you’re certainly able to take your painkillers, and you need them, so why wait and make yourself feel worse?”

There’s a certain amount of logic in that, Martin has to admit. “I just…don’t want to be a bother.”

Jon places a sandwich in front of him firmly and lays a hand on his arm. “Martin,” he says sincerely, “the last thing you are is a bother. Sit down and eat. I’ll be right back.”

He heads out of the kitchen, leaving Martin incredibly confused and slightly embarrassed.

Lacking any better option, he sits down to eat the sandwich Jon has made for him. He doesn’t know what to expect, but it’s certainly not what he bites into. The first taste of it on his tongue almost makes him cry, and he closes his eyes, savoring it.

He hears footsteps and swallows hastily, opening his eyes as Jon comes back into the room. He sets the pill bottle next to Martin’s elbow, then sits down next to him and picks up his mug of tea. “Is it all right?”

“It’s perfect,” Martin says before he thinks it through and almost swallows his tongue. Oh, well, no taking it back now—best to press forward. “I didn’t know Tim ate cherry preserves.”

“I don’t think he does. He teased me a bit about being ‘elitist’ the first time he saw me eating them.”

Martin stops mid-chew and definitely swallows a too-solid bite. It takes him a second before he’s able to speak. “You like them, too?”

Jon’s eyes widen. “Too? I—I mean, obviously you like them, you’re eating the sandwich—God, I didn’t even think to ask, I just assumed…”

“No, it’s—I’ve always liked them,” Martin says. “My—my granddad had a couple cherry trees in his backyard. He used to make preserves every year, and…I dunno. They just remind me of visiting him.” He takes another bite of the sandwich.

Jon nods thoughtfully. “I’ve always been fond of cherry preserves. Well, cherry anything, actually. My grandmother used to bake cherry pies on my birthday in lieu of a cake.”

Martin smiles. “Granddad always did that for me, too.”

“I’ll remember that for next year.” Jon smiles, too.

For a few minutes, there’s silence as Martin finishes the sandwich. When the last bite is gone, Jon takes the plate and gets up to wash it while Martin struggles for a moment to get the cap off the pill vial and shake out a painkiller. The moment feels oddly…domestic. Calm. Cosy. Martin isn’t sure what to do with it, but he decides to try and let himself enjoy it. It’s never worked for him before, but he can give it a shot.

Finally, Jon sits back down next to him. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” It’s not just the painkiller, which probably hasn’t actually started to work yet. It’s the tea, and the sandwich, and Jon being nice. He tries to figure out how to articulate it, then finally says, “It’s the first time in I don’t know how long that I don’t feel afraid.”

Jon exhales. “I know the feeling. I mean—I know I should be. The world is objectively terrifying, and learning what we learned today made that exponentially worse. But…this right here? I’m definitely calmer and more relaxed than I’ve been since I took the Archivist job.”

Something in Martin’s chest warms at the comment. It probably isn’t meant like that, but it’s nice to hear he’s not making Jon stressed by his mere presence, at least. And, hey, he can dream. All he says, though, is, “’S nice.”

“It is.” Jon takes a sip of his tea and stares into it for a moment, then snorts softly and shakes his head.

“What?”

“It’s just…something my counterpart said. While we were talking outside. I hadn’t thought about it before, but…he’s right.” Jon looks up. “He told me he hasn’t finished a cup of tea in years that—that his Martin hasn’t made for him. It just occurred to me that I’m the same way. Even when…those two weeks you weren’t in the office? When Jane Prentiss was—” He swallows hard. “I just realized that I would brew myself a cup of tea and it would just…sit on my desk and get cold. I never managed to drink more than half of it. I suppose it just tastes better when you make it.”

Martin doesn’t know quite how to respond to that. “You make tea just fine. This is perfect.”

Jon hums noncommittally. He seems to be debating with himself, then sighs. “You’re far more observant than I am at times…you know they’re together, right?”

Martin’s brain pulls up short. “Wait, what?”

“Our…counterparts. The Primes. They’re—they love each other. He told me that when I asked him, and…God, in retrospect, it’s so obvious. I-I suppose I just didn’t see it.” Jon looks suddenly nervous as he scans Martin’s face. “You’re more…in tune with that sort of thing than I. You did know, didn’t you?”

“N-no,” Martin manages to stammer out. Oh, God, he can feel his cheeks heating up. Jon’s right, though, in retrospect it’s obvious. He thinks about all the little interactions the Primes have had with one another, the way they both fuss over each other, the way they seem to know what the other is thinking. The lighthearted, affectionate banter, the near-constant physical contact. Jon Prime rubbing his thumb over Martin Prime’s knuckles to calm himself when he gets overwhelmed, Martin Prime reaching for Jon Prime instinctively when he needs a hand up.

Then, suddenly, he remembers the way Martin Prime spoke about the person who was coming back to meet him, when he assured Martin that if they’ve come through somewhere else, they’re looking for me. Logically, he knows now that person was Jon Prime, but he somehow didn’t make the connection between the two. It’s as if his brain saw Jon Prime walk in and instantly erased every conclusion that conversation made him come to. It didn’t occur to him, at the time, that Jon would even bother to bring him back in time with him, let alone be looking for him. Now he takes a mental step back, re-evaluates every moment between the Primes in light of that conversation, and wants to smack himself on the forehead for being an idiot.

“You’re right, though. I really should have figured that out sooner,” he murmurs. “God knows I had enough information to put it together. Guess I just assumed there couldn’t possibly be a universe where I—”

He snaps off the words as quickly as he can. Oh, God, he really almost said it out loud. Almost let Jon know how he feels. He’s not stupid, the Primes have a lot more history between them than he and Jon do, and he doesn’t doubt for a minute that they haven’t been together long, relatively speaking. Probably only since Jon Prime rescued Martin Prime from the Lonely. The circumstances that led them to this point are ones they’re trying to undo, and Martin seriously doubts he and Jon will ever get to that point. It’s best if he tries to let this thing die now and be happy for his counterpart getting this much.

Jon looks like he wants to ask him a question, but doesn’t. Instead, he says quietly, “They weren’t going to tell you. Us, I suppose, but…I asked him. How he felt about his Martin. Mostly because I was trying to figure out how I felt about you, and I thought knowing his thoughts would help untangle mine.”

Martin has to try twice before he can get the words out. “Did it?”

Jon gives a small, humorless laugh. “Not really. In truth, it just made things more confusing. I…” He rubs his thumb against the knuckle of his index finger, the same nervous tic Jon Prime uses when he doesn’t have Martin Prime’s hand to hold. “I-I got scared when I arrived at the Institute the other night. I was…there was all that chaos, all those lights and sirens and activity, and—and I realized you weren’t in the crowd. All I could think of was that there’d been a fire and you hadn’t woken in time, or that you’d been trapped and been…burned or breathed in too much of the CO2 or something. I tried to—they wouldn’t let me in after you. Obviously. That makes perfect sense, but…at the time, all I could think of was that you were in there a-and I needed to get to you, that I needed to know you were safe. I was staring at the idea of a world without you and I couldn’t face it. And then…Elias told me Tim and Sasha were down there, and then mentioned Jane Prentiss, and it all got worse and…I don’t know, Martin, I’m rambling. But Tim’s right. I was—I must’ve shouted down half a dozen officials trying to get one of them to tell me where you were, how you were, to—to let me see you. Everyone kept saying you were going to be all right, but I knew I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you.”

“I—I mean, if it had been Sasha or Tim—” Martin begins.

“I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had been them who was hurt. I was definitely worried about them, but…I don’t know.” Jon takes a deep breath. “I’ll be honest. I still don’t really know how I feel. I—I do care about you. I worry about you, I want you to be safe. Beyond that, I—I’m afraid I don’t know.” He manages a small, slightly roguish smile. “I don’t suppose you know how you feel.”

“Oh, Christ,” Martin practically whines. This is not how he wanted any of this to come out, and he doesn’t know if he should say it.

Then it occurs to him that Jon didn’t ask. Jon, who has just learned that he’s developing the ability to force people to answer his questions, and who is probably more likely to do it when he’s tired or stressed out, deliberately avoided actually asking a question. It’s a simple statement. He’s giving Martin permission to not say a word if he doesn’t want to.

Which…actually, weirdly, makes him want to.

He takes a deep breath. “O-okay. The truth is…I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while. I wasn’t going to say anything, because it’s—I mean, I didn’t want to make things weird, a-and I know you—I was just trying for ‘he doesn’t think I’m a complete idiot’ for a while there. I also thought it was just a stupid workplace crush, and I was kind of hoping it would eventually go away on its own. It didn’t. Ever since I started living in the Archives, it’s just got worse. I guess that’s why I didn’t realize how the Primes felt about each other. I kind of thought I was projecting, o-or seeing what I wanted to see, maybe? I don’t know. But I do worry, and I do…I do care.”

“That’s not why you went back to Carlos Vittery’s apartment, is it?” Jon’s voice is so soft Martin almost doesn’t hear it, but his eyes are worried. “Because you thought I…?”

“No,” Martin assures him. “No, I—you know, I know I said I was trying to ‘make sure I’d done my due diligence’ and all that, but what was behind that was that I’d been…I felt pressured  to go back. Like a nagging, persistent headache. I get it all the time, really, when I’m doing research. Remember when you sent me to track down that…that Angela woman? For the—”

“The man who was falling to pieces. I remember.”

“I know you got exasperated with me, but I literally couldn’t stop until I’d talked to every Angela I could find. I’d think ‘well, I’m not going to find her, I’m going back to the Institute now,’ but I’d get this blinding headache and it wouldn’t go away until I went ‘okay, just one more.’ It’s only got worse as time goes on. So no, I didn’t…get myself into this mess because I was trying to impress you or whatever.” Martin can’t help the small, nervous chuckle that escapes him. “’Course, if it did impress you, I wouldn’t complain.”

“What impressed me was that you kept your head well enough to survive and get back to your apartment, never mind the Institute,” Jon says warmly. “If it were me, I’d likely have done something stupid like go back for my phone when I realized I’d dropped it.” He sighs. “I—I don’t want to make things awkward. But I also don’t want to…promise anything.”

“I don’t expect anything, Jon.” Martin learned a long time ago not to expect anything. As far as he’s concerned, the phrase good things come to those who wait is inapplicable. In his case, it’s more like good things come to those who aren’t you. He has friends, in Tim and Sasha at least. That’s more than he probably deserves.

Jon studies him for a moment, then smiles slightly and holds out his hand. “How about I apologize for being such an ass to you, and we start with friends and see where it goes from there?”

This is the last thing Martin would have ever anticipated, but he’s certainly not going to object. He smiles in reply and takes Jon’s hand. “Deal.”

They shake on it—very gently, Jon is careful of the healing wounds on Martin’s hands—and then sit back. Jon studies Martin. “Did they tell you how long you’ll need to wear the bandages?”

“Until things stop bleeding when I take them off?” Martin shrugs. “Hopefully not too long. Some of them are…deeper than others. I’m supposed to make an appointment with my regular doctor for a follow-up in a couple of weeks.”

“We’ll make sure you get there safely,” Jon promises. He picks up his mug and salutes Martin with it. “After all, what are friends for?”

Martin grins, feeling more relaxed than he’s felt in a while, and salutes Jon back. “What indeed?”

[snarky-badger]

How about Eddie and venom with a expecting f/o? Thank you for your amazing writing it helps perk up my day! :)

Another Prompt that’s a little like this one: Can you do a prompt where the reader is pregnant with Eddie’s kid? Then after a lot of arguing their finally allowed to go shopping on their own. Only to get stuck in the elevator on the way home. So Eddie, and Venom have a panic attack trying to find them.     

Another two for one!

Two pink lines had changed your life.

At first, seven months ago, those two lines had terrified you. You hadn’t been ready to be a mother, and your boyfriend made things…. complicated. Sure, at first you’d been a little leery of dating Eddie when you’d learned he was bonded to an alien symbiote, but you’d adapted to that. But having a kid… wow. That was huge.

You’d initially been a wreck when you’d missed not one, but two periods. It was only when Venom had tattled on you and told Eddie that your scent had changed that you’d hesitantly admitted to Eddie what you’d been hiding from him.

The two of you had immediately gone out and bought half a dozen pregnancy tests. You’d read the instructions and followed them, and the next ten minutes, waiting for the results, had been intense. Eddie had been worried - you both knew that he wasn’t quite ‘human’ anymore, not with the symbiote intertwined in his very blood, his every cell.

But when those two pink lines had shown up, he’d given you the brightest smile you’d ever seen and picked you up to twirl you around. You’d laughed, relieved and excited by his enthusiasm, worry tempered by his firm promise that he’d be with you every step of the way.

The symbiote, of course, had instantly peppered the poor man with endless questions. Once it had understood what was going on, Venom had taken Eddie over, knelt in front of you and pressed his face to your then-flat stomach, sniffing and nuzzling, expressing that it had sensed something different in you, but that it hadn’t known what it was.

Well, then.

The next seven months had been a whirlwind. Eddie had insisted in getting the two - soon to be three (or was that four?) - of you into a bigger apartment. He’d switched jobs, choosing a more financially stable journalism job down at one of the largest newspapers in the City.

Despite his protests that he could provide for you and the baby on his own, you’d put your foot down and ignored his attempts to talk you into quitting your job down at a women’s clothing boutique downtown. Your boss, a lovely grandmotherly-like woman, had been overjoyed to learn that you were expecting, and had quickly offered you all the time off you needed for doctors appointments and whatnot.

Venom, meanwhile, had begun what he called ‘nesting’, the symbiote always insuring that you were well fed, comfortable and as safe and he and Eddie could manage. They were never more than a phone call away, and you knew that if trouble dared to come near you, it was Venom that would appear to literally stomp that trouble to death.

There had been a lot of steak purchased and ‘appropriated’ before Eddie told the symbiote that you needed fruits and vegetables more than meat. And when you’d started craving pineapples and onion soup, the alien had literally scratched his head before shrugging and going out to steal a crate of pineapples from the import docks. Eddie at least paid for the onion soup from the nearby restaurant which slightly offset your guilt for the pilfered fruits.

Venom had been endlessly entranced as your belly started to swell, had stared at the sonogram from the doctor for hours on end in shock and awe, talons tracing the picture of the small life growing within you. At night, when it was his turn to sleep with you, he’d keep a taloned hand cupped against your belly protectively. Often, even when it was Eddie sleeping next to you, you’d wake up to the symbiote covering your stomach like a black blanket, the alien constantly enamored by the baby’s heartbeat and movements.

Now, seven months along, you were appreciative of both of your boys’ help, but you were low-key ready to strangle them. Perhaps it was the hormones, but all of their constant pampering and over-protectiveness was getting to you.

Eddie had once again tried to talk you into, if not quitting, then at least taking time off work. Venom had offered to kill your boss, and then you’d gotten a headache from listening to Eddie and Venom bicker.

You’d stomped out of the apartment that morning without so much as a ‘goodbye’, slamming the door hard enough that the walls rattled a little. Had simmered down by the time you’d gotten to work, thankfully, and your boss had given you a knowing look.

“Man problems?”

“Can’t kill him, he’s my source of soup,” you muttered as you, somewhat roughly, hung some new dresses onto hangers.

Your boss laughed, eyes kind. “Oh, I know. My Martin was the same. Nothing turns men into complete worrywarts like a pregnant woman. I actually made out a plan to kill him with a roast and then cook it to eat the evidence.”

The mental image made you laugh. “Better yet, you could’ve fed the cops the evidence.”

She grinned. “Exactly! Here, come do my tired old eyes a favor and do your magic with the books. I can hang those up.”

It was a bad attempt to get you to sit down and take the weight off your aching back and ankles. But it wasn’t framed as an order or a whine, so you nodded and went to sit down behind the counter, opening Quickbooks on your boss’ laptop and letting yourself sink into some basic accounting.

The shop ended up being busy that day. Fifteen bra fittings needed, and thrice as many customers needing help picking out outfits. Half left messes and unfolded clothes behind, and you felt like you were picking up after toddlers as you refolded everything and sorted through the clothes that had been tried on and found unworthy.

You were exhausted by quitting time, your ankles swollen, back aching, and a headache pounding behind your temples. You were looking forward to heading home and putting your feet up.

A text from Eddie made you pause just as you were leaving the shop, a sigh leaving you when he said he’d be late and to take it easy and that he loved you.

Hormones. It had to be hormones, because you had to wipe at your eyes.

Huffing, you called him back. “I’m sorry for this morning,” you blurted when he answered.

“Babe, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to push, I know you like your job. I just worry. And, uh, he, is sorry too. Didn’t realize that you liked your boss that much.”

You rolled your eyes as you walked along the street, the smells of a nearby Thai restaurant making your stomach growl a little. “She’s a kind lady who keeps paying me on my days off despite it not being in my contract and who also buys me pineapples so I don’t have to deal with cravings at work. So yes, I’d like to keep her around.”

“Sorry, pretty.” Eddie cleared his throat as the symbiote relinquished control of his voice. “Anyway, we’ll be an hour or so late. Just head home, we’ll go pick up your soup once we’re free.”

“Don’t worry. I can grab it on my way home.”

“Babe–”

“Eddie, I am pregnant not an invalid. I’ll just pop in the restaurant, buy soup, and head straight home. Easy peasy.”

He sighed into the phone, and you narrowed your eyes, readying yourself for a fight. “Promise you’ll take it easy,” he said instead of protesting, like you knew he wanted to do. Like Venom was probably doing in his head.

“Promise. I’ll even buy some of that cake I know you and V like.”

“Triple chocolate?”

“Yup.”

“Well, how can we say ‘no’ to that?” His chuckle that echoed through the phone made you smile. “Love you.”

“Love you too. I’ll see you later.” You hung up feeling better, less homicidal and less likely to try to smother him in his sleep. Climbed onto the streetcar heading home and smiled at a teenager that offered you his spot on a bench.

Your mission to appropriate soup and cake was effortless, and you happily cradled the paper bag to your chest as you walked the last couple of blocks home. Achy and hungry, you stopped to gather up the mail in the apartment’s lobby before stepping into the elevator.

About halfway up, it started to groan, and you quirked an eyebrow at the light screeching sound it made before it rattled to a stop, the lights going out.

Shit.

You reached for the ‘help’ button, pressing it and the emergency button. The bell sounded, loud, echoing in the small elevator, but no one answered the help line’s phone. Nervous, you pulled out your smartphone, heart sinking when you saw that there was only one bar of service available. 

What the hell was the elevator made of that you couldn’t get proper phone reception?! Lead?!

Still, you tried dialing Eddie again, voice coming out shaky and nervous when you thought you heard the line pick up. “Eddie! Eddie, the elevator’s stuck, I need help! Can you hear me? Eddie?” You pulled the phone back to peer at the screen, sighing when you saw the words ‘no service’ flashing.

Trying to keep from freaking out, you pounded on the doors, kicking a few times as you bellowed. “HELLO!! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME!?! HELL-FUCKING-O?! PREGNANT WOMAN WHO NEEDS TO PEE TRAPPED IN THE ELEVATOR!!”

Panting, holding onto your calm by your proverbial nails, you slumped back against the wall, fighting the urge to sink to the floor - you’d never be able to get back up if you did. Spent a moment jabbing your thumb into the call button, listening to the elevator phone ringing endlessly over the blare of the emergency bell before, finally, someone picked up.

“What?”

“I’m stuck in the goddamn elevator, don’t you ‘what’ me! Can’t you hear the alarm?!”

“Oh.”

“OH?!”

“Just… Shit. I’m twenty minutes away at another building. Just chill. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“WhaaAAAAT?! But I’m pregnant!”

“You in labor?”

“You’d better fucking hope I’m not!”

“Then I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The resounding ‘click’ of the Superintendent hanging up on you felt like the final nail in your coffin.

Unbeknownst to you - this would be recounted to you by Eddie and Venom later that night - Eddie had gotten some of your call. It had been garbled. He’d made out the words ‘Eddie’ and ‘help’ amidst a lot of static and blaring alarm noises and panicked. He’d screamed ‘pregnant girlfriend in trouble!’ at his boss and bolted out of the office.

It was Venom that swung through the City, ignoring the screams from the people that spotted him out in the daylight. He’d burst into the restaurant that he knew you’d gone to, shattering the plate glass window in his entrance. Upon realizing that you weren’t there, he’d upended a table in frustration, scarfed down someone’s steak dinner and left by ripping the front door off it’s hinges.

Luckily, he’d spotted a car driving a little too fast, weaving through traffic, with an elevator repair service truck following at it’s bumper. He’d easily spotted it as both vehicles had screeched to a halt in front of the apartment building, a trio of men rushing inside.

Thankfully, Venom’s territorial nature insisted that he find out what the hell was going on in ‘his‘ building and he’d gone to investigate.

You meanwhile, had a migraine from the alarm, and were dealing with a little panic by beating on the elevator doors while screaming obscenities. Only when the blare of the alarm cut off did you stop, head tilted a little. “Hello?”

“Jesus, Lady, you got some lungs on you!” Drifted up and through the closed doors. “Listen, I got a repairman here, we’re trying to figure out what’s wrong, okay? Just sit tight!”

“I’ve been ‘sitting tight‘ for twenty minutes!”

“Well then you’re already a pro at it, aren’t you?”

You snarled, debated kicking the doors again, just out of spite, but your sore feet took precedence. Instead, you pushed the heels of your hands into your lower back, trying to ease the constant, slowly worsening, pain there.

Unable to do anything else, you paced your small enclosure, back and forth, being careful not to kick the now-cold soup and cake takeout you’d placed on the floor. Felt tiny kicks from your baby against your belly, and slid a hand to press against the tiny bumps, trying to even out your breathing. “S’okay, junior. Either this asshole will get us out of here or your Daddies will come home and kill him. It’ll work out you’ll se–”

You cut yourself off with a shriek when the whole elevator shook, wobbling hard enough to send you to your knees. Heard the cables holding you from plummeting groan in response, and felt your heartbeat kick up accordingly.

“Jesus, Lady! You drop that kid or something?!”

“You’re not fucking funny!” You screamed back at the Super, before covering your belly with your hands, feeling the elevator wobble again. “Please don’t let me die in an elevator,” you whispered to whatever Gods were listening. “Or at least, let the elevator take out the Super on the way down.”

“SORRY, PRETTY. DIDN’T MEAN TO SCARE YOU.”

You gasped and jerked your head up, staring at Venom as he peeled back a section of the elevator’s ceiling as if it was as flimsy as a can of sardines. The elevator shook again as he dropped through the hole he’d made, landing in a crouch in front of you.

He reached for you at the same time that you flung yourself into his arms, closing your eyes when he enveloped you in a hug. “SHH, LITTLE NIBBLE. WE’RE HERE NOW.” Venom nuzzled at you a little before scooping you into his arms, and you finally relaxed. Nothing short of a nuclear attack would convince Venom to leave your side now.

Odd how just ten hours ago you were ready to kill him for doing just that.

“HOLD TIGHT,” he rumbled, and you wrapped your arms around his neck accordingly, blinking when he extended a tendril to pick your purse and bagged food up off the floor before leaping straight up.

The two of you easily cleared the elevator and another twenty feet of elevator shaft before Venom shifted his grip on you, the arm that had been supporting your legs reaching out to grab onto the edge of a ladder. He hung there for a moment, before shoving off, bouncing off the opposite wall and sending the two of you sailing through the open elevator doors on the fifteenth floor.

He twisted and landed on his back, protecting you and your swollen belly from the impact, and you lay there, eyes clenched shut, before the feeling of him licking at your cheek made you open them. “Are we alive?”

A deep, baritone, laugh left him. “OF COURSE,” he chuckled as he fluidly rose to his feet and carried you into your apartment, hissing a question when you wriggled out of his arms. 

“Bathroom,” you blurted as you ran for it. Managed to get there in time to avoid an accident, and you blushed when he chuckled at you through the door when you sighed in relief. “Oh, hush.”

Did your business, then washed your hands before rejoining him in the kitchen, where he was in the middle of devouring the piece of cake you’d bought for Eddie. “Eddie needs to get downstairs and explain to the Super that I’m out of the elevator. And maybe yell at him a bit.”

“WE COULD GO. DON’T LIKE HOW HE TALKED TO YOU.”

You decided not to mention how long you were stuck in the elevator, otherwise Venom might disembowel the man. “Yes, well, nothing to be done about that now. And, thank you, for coming to my rescue.”

A rumble very much like a purr left him as he moved over to you, one hand settling on the small of your back to pull you close while he leaned down to lick at your cheek. “YOU SOUNDED SCARED ON THE PHONE. YOU KNOW WE’LL ALWAYS COME TO YOU WHEN YOU NEED US.”

“I know. Still, thank you.”

“WE ACCEPT KISSES AND CHOCOLATE. AND WE ALREADY HAD CHOCOLATE,” he smirked, and you rolled your eyes before tilting your head up, sighing as he claimed your lips in a hungry, heated, kiss.

There was the sound of a startled cry from the open apartment door, and the still open elevator doors. Something that sounded suspiciously like ‘what the fuck happened to the elevator?!’ drifted to your ears, and you sighed as you reluctantly pulled away. Venom grumbled a little, nuzzling at your neck, and you heard him drink in a lungful of your scent, his free hand dropping to cup your swollen belly protectively, talons gentle against your skin.

He pulled back a moment later, pale eyes widening, when the baby kicked out, and you chuckled a little at the shocked expression on his face.

“Junior’s not a fan of elevators,” you said with a smile as Venom dropped into a crouch and framed your stomach in his hands. He tapped at a spot, grinning with a happy rumble when a tiny kick answered him.

The call of ‘Lady, where the fuck are you?!’ from the hallway made both of you grumble.

“I’m fine! Boyfriend saved me! He’ll be down there to talk to you in a minute!” you hollered back, gently sliding a hand across the nape of Venom’s neck when he growled something about hanging people from their entrails. “Eddie needs to make an appearance, hun.”

Venom hissed, then reluctantly pulled away. Rose to his feet and placed a kiss to your forehead before the symbiote pulled away from it’s human host, reintroducing Eddie to the world as it shifted around him to form jeans and a button down shirt.

The man blinked a few times to reorient himself, then smiled at you in relief and pulled you in for a brief hug. “Glad to see you’re alright, babe.”

You leaned into him a little, taking comfort in his embrace. He was warm and strong and safe, and you drank that in, along with his scent and the smell of his aftershave, before necessity made you pull away. “I hate elevators. Do me a favor and go yell at the Super for me.”

Eddie, being a journalist, eyed you. “Were you in there all this time?”

“Yeah. He was at another building. Took him almost half an hour to get here.”

His eyes darkened, like a storm rolling in. “Yeah, we’ll have words with him. Nuke your soup and go put your feet up, we’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Yup.” You rose up onto your aching tip toes to kiss him again. “No killing the help.”

A chuckle left him, laced with Venom’s own unearthly rumble. “We promise nothing.”

[youaretoosmart]

For Stydia prompts, maybe: Getting a puppy/dog Lingerie shopping Honeymoon in Europe Possessive!Lydia Outside POV of stydia (my fav) Lydia getting that fields medal The aftermath of the ghost riders

birthday prompts 4/7

I went with outsider pov! Enjoy :)

Alex has three brothers and two sisters, and two siblings who were or still are in theatre club in high school.

That is to say, he’s used to sharing a room and weird behaviors.

Not that his roommate at college is abnormally weird, or outwardly obsessed with, like, foot fetish or something, but there is something definitely off about the guy he’s been paired with.

First of all—who the hell names a child Stiles?

“It’s a nickname,” Stiles explains the first time they meet—literally within the minute. “My real name is Polish and even weirder.”

He doesn’t tell Alex what it is, but Alex can respect that, especially since Stiles can’t miss the fact that Alex has to go to the administration building three times before the classes begin to change the deadname on his ID.

Still. Stiles is weird.

In a nice, out-of-the-ordinary, I’ll-have-stories-to-tell-at-Thanksgiving way, like his obsession with mythology and his way too broad knowledge on the history of male circumcision.

“That’s nice,” Alex says the first time Stiles tells him about it from his bed on the other side of the dorm. They don’t have classes yet so they went out on campus, came home agreeably buzzed, and crashed on their beds to stay up for hours after that. Stiles’ voice is hoarse from speaking, and his diction a bit sluggish still, despite the fact that Alex has been gradually sobering up for the last hour or so. Apparently, he takes meds to sleep, and they’re starting to quick in. “So, how much’d you get on that paper?”

“I got an A on the make-up test,” Stiles says. “It was for econ.”

Alex laughs so hard he almost falls off his bed.

Another time, Alex finds him browsing some sort of digital encyclopedia with weird drawings and words that are definitely not in English, but he sees the panicked look on Stiles’ face when Alex looks over his shoulder, the way he almost knocks over his mug in his haste to change the tab, and he doesn’t say anything. Alex isn’t the prying type, and despite the fact that Stiles obviously is, he’s yet to breach Alex’s privacy, so the favor is easily returned.

Of course, it’s impossible not to live with Stiles and not find out about his high school friends.

He spends his time on Skype with a guy named Scott, who, to the best of Alex’s knowledge, seems to be both eighty percent Stiles’ impulse control, and his enabler. There is the fond way with which Stiles says his name that Alex has only ever really heard in his mother’s mouth when she calls Alex and his siblings.

There’s Liam and Mason, who are still in high school and on the same lacrosse team Stiles was on. Stiles and thus Alex have no opinion on Mason but one memorable phone call leaves Stiles agitated and restless, pacing the room like he wants to dig a hole in the carpet.

Alex, who has a test in the morning and was stupid enough to listen to the siren call of an 8am class, gathers his patience and asks: “What is it?”

Stiles went outside to make his call, so Alex didn’t listen to it, but a stressed Stiles is a distracting Stiles, and the library is on the other side of campus.

“That was Liam,” Stiles says, scowling at his phone. “That little fucker. I wanna fly back just to shake him until his brain starts working properly.”

“You have a midterm next Friday,” is all Alex can say. College, he’s found, has a way to suck your soul through your ears and fill the void with pointless academic worries.

“I know, that’s why I’m not gonna do it, I just—” Stiles collapses on his desk chair, leg bouncing, and rubs two hands through his hair, messing it up even more. “What an idiot.”

He looks at his phone with disgust.

“You know what you should do?” Alex types on a few keys to wake up his laptop. He doesn’t want to let the screen to go dark: if he does, he’ll give up studying for the night and fail the test. “You should—Give me your phone.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows.

“Yours is nicer than mine.”

“Not like that, idiot. Just—here.”

He finds Liam’s contact easily, angles the screen so Stiles can see what he’s doing—he’s fiercely protective of the information in his phone and his laptop, like he has a double life or something—and changes the name from Liam to “little fucker”.

“Here,” he says, handing it back to Stiles. He doesn’t throw anything to him anymore. It’s a wonder how he got on the lacrosse team at all. “Now everytime you look at his contact you’ll feel like you’re insulting him. Good?”

“Nice,” Stiles says, then he opens his laptop and Alex goes back to studying.

It works, because he gets a solid 88 on the test.

Then, of course, there is the matter that Stiles has a girlfriend—five feet three, strawberry blonde haired, green-eyed Lydia Martin who is gorgeous and a genius. At least that’s what Alex gets from the numerous mentions of her Stiles can slide into every conversation and the pictures Stiles pinned everywhere around his side of the room. Alex always seems to catch the end tail of their conversations, for which he is grateful, but it means that by the time Thanksgiving rolls around, he hasn’t met or talked to the certified genius once.

The Friday afternoon before break changes that fact: when Alex comes back from his History class, he finds Stiles’ bed made and his suitcase open on the bed, slowly being filled.

“Hey,” Stiles greets, dragging the syllable like he always does. “Have you seen my—?”

He trails off and ends his sentence with weird, purposeful flailing, which probably means laptop charger, because Alex has learned that neither of them can ever remember that word.

“Under your bed,” he says, dropping on his bed next to his bag. “No, behind the clothes.”

“Gotcha,” Stiles says to the charger when he locates it. “Thanks.”

“Mmmm. Hey, wait, you’re flying back tonight?”

“Nah, tomorrow morning. But Lydia is picking me up—we’re flying together.”

Couples, Alex thinks.

“I thought she was in Boston.”

“Yeah, she’s driving down.”

“Wait, she’s staying here tonight?”

Alex sits up on the bed: the room is a mess. He doesn’t think he wants anyone to see it in the state it is, much less someone who actually matters.

“No,” Stiles says, gesturing to his bags. “Clearly she got an expensive hotel room and I’m going in, like, thirty minutes.”

“Oh.”

“You can say thank god, it’s okay.”

“Thank god.”

Stiles laughs, closes his suitcase and picks up two books, looking at them quizzically.

“Which one should I take?”

“Homework?” Stiles nods. “Both.”

“Both due in three weeks,” Stiles protests. “I’m not breaking my back for that.”

Alex eyes the books, then his roomate. “Which one are you actually willing to do this week? Be honest.”

“You’re right.” Stiles looks put out but he places both books back on his desk. “I’m not gonna do any long-time work this week.”

“This is not exactly the point I was trying to make.”

“No, you’re right—only fun this week, stress and all nighters for next Sunday.”

“I give up.”

“I work better with pressure,” Stiles insists. “Plus, insomniac, remember? I should at least do something with all those wasted hours. I get anxiety from staring at the ceiling hours on end.”

Alex gives up, rolls on his side, and asks: “So how did you even meet? Lydia and you,” he adds when Stiles prompts him to explain.

“Well, I’d been obsessed with Lydia since, what, the third grade?” Stiles’ tone is falsely casual. “And she wouldn’t even acknowledge my existence.”

“Harsh.”

“Yeah. But—I deserved it a bit, if you ask me. Like—it was bad. But anyway, our sophomore year, her best friend Allison started to date my best friend, Scott.”

“Wait,” Alex says. “Your best friend is Scott?”

Stiles turns around, visibly confused, and sighs when he sees the look on Alex’s face. “Oh, shut up.”

“No, please, tell me again who Scott is. I didn’t know you had a best friend. Do you two speak often?”

Stiles rolls his eyes but doesn’t take the bet, lying on his bed. “Seriously,” he says, “sorry if I’ve been,” he gestures helplessly, “you know, too much with them. It’s just—small towns, you know? I’ve known the same three people my entire life.”

Alex hums like he knows what Stiles is talking about, even though he grew up in the extensive suburbs of DC.

Just then Stiles’ phone buzzes, and Stiles picks up faster than Alex has ever seen any human do.

“Hey,” he greets. “Already? Okay, you remember the way? You turn left on—yes, that’s it. Okay, I’ll wait outside. Lydia’s barely two minutes away,” he tells Alex when he hangs up. “Hey, you wanna meet her?”

After months of hearing about the elusive Lydia Martin, Alex isn’t going to miss his chance. “Sure,” he says, rolling on his feet. “C’mon, I’ll give you a hand.”

He takes Stiles’ backpack and keeps the door open while Stiles pats his pockets for his keys and student ID.

“You forgot anything, I’ll bring it to you tomorrow,” Alex suggests as they wait for the elevator.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m not going home until Sunday.”

“Thanks, man.”

Alex’s parents live forty-five minutes away, in a house that’s never really empty, unlike the campus library will be tomorrow, so Alex has decided to do the total opposite of his roommate and do all of his homework over the weekend, so he can be peacefully pestered by his siblings, parents, and relatives during the rest of the break. It’s genius, really.

When the elevator finally arrives, it’s so crowded that they just cram Stiles’ suitcase in on someone’s toes, and run down five flights of stairs to beat it to the ground, managing it just so. It’s a relief when they finally step outside away from the crowd in the lobby.

“Which one’s her car?” Alex starts to say, squinting for a Massachusetts plate. He turns to find that Stiles is already walking towards a bright blue car and the woman just getting out of the driver’s seat.

“Lydia!” he calls, but he didn’t need to: even from afar, Alex can see the way Lydia’s face brightens at the sight of Stiles.

By the time Alex meets them, walking very slowly and letting a lot of pedestrians and cars speed before him, they have yet to come up for air and Stiles is pressing Lydia against the car just enough to lift her half an inch from the ground.

She really is tiny, Alex thinks fleetingly as he busies himself with the birds in a nearby tree.

When he hears voices, he turns back and gets closer, placing Stiles’ backpack on top of his abandoned suitcase.

“Oh,” Lydia says, looking at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know—” She presses a hand on Stiles’ arm and extends the other to Alex. “Hi, I’m Lydia.”

“Alex,” Alex says, shaking her hand. Lydia’s makeup is somehow intact, but her hair is a little mussed, which Alex charitably decides to believe is from the wind. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to meet you.”

Lydia’s hand slides from Stiles’ arm to his hand, so that they’re standing next to each other, the height difference only highlighted by Lydia’s heeled boots.

Lydia’s smile is easy, bright, and clever; it’s not hard, in retrospect, to see how she can have been both the most popular and intelligent person in school.

“Sorry for the display,” Lydia says.

“It’s okay, I get it.” Alex shrugs. “Long distance and all.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says. “Worse three months of my life.”

“Three months?” At his confusion, Lydia shoots him a surprised look.

“Yes,” she says. “We started dating last June.”

“But.” Alex’s mind in reeling. “You got together when you were a senior.”  He points to Lydia.

“Yes?”

“And now you’re a junior in college,” he says.

“Yes.”

Alex looks at them, lost. Stiles has a little smile like he knows the punchline. “I don’t get it. I thought you were older than Stiles?”

“By three weeks, yes,” Lydia says. “We were in the same grade.”

“Three weeks? But—MIT—”

“Offered me to get in as a junior,” Lydia says. “I had enough credits to graduate two years ago, but I stayed in high school, so we got an arrangement.”

Alex’s head is spinning. Suddenly his major in poli sci at GWU doesn’t seem like such an accomplishment.

“So you actually are a genius,” he says stupidly.

“You could say that, yes,” Lydia says with the same easy smile.

Stiles is biting his lip so hard not to laugh that he’s turning red. Alex has the sneaking suspicion that his confusion happened on purpose; Stiles’ own way to show admiration for Lydia, maybe.

“I can’t believe you,” he tells Stiles.

“Sorry?”

It doesn’t seem very sincere, but neither was Alex’s complaint: Lydia is laughing, but not at him, so in the end it doesn’t matter so much.

“I should let you go,” Alex says, stepping away from the car. “You’re going to hit rush hour otherwise, and also, I don’t have a coat and I’m freezing.”

“I’ve been cold for you for the past ten minutes,” Stiles admits. Lydia slides in the car to pop open the trunk and he goes around to stuff his suitcase in.

“Good meeting you,” Lydia says, one hand on the car’s door. “Have a nice break.”

She manages to make banalities sound earnest. “You too,” Alex says, meaning it. “See you in a week!”

Stiles waves back and slides in the passenger seat. By the time Alex makes it on to the curb on the other side of the street, he can just see the car round up the corner and disappear toward one of the campus’ exits. Then the wind almost blows him over, and he hurries inside to get some rest before starting on his work.

[justcallmebeau-blog]

Para || Company

WHO: Beau & Belle WHEN: 1/23/17 WHERE: Beau’s office WHAT: Belle stops by for a brief visit with Beau after the first day of classes is over and done.

Belle: "I come bearing gifts." Putting her conversation with Easton out of her mind, Belle dropped the bag of Chinese takeout on Beau's desk. Cocking her hip against the corner and grinning at him as she rummaged for fresh chopsticks and the rice, she tried valiantly not to comment on his appearance. For both their sake. "There's gong bao chicken, szechuan, noodles. Take your pick and tell me how the rest of your day went, Professor Suave."

Beau could swear Belle knew how to read his mind. Or just how to read him, which she probably did. His plan had been to work until at least 9 or 10 and probably not eat until much later. "Have I mentioned you're my favorite? Today, at least?" His stomach growled right on cue, the descriptions alone enough to do so. "I've been shut up in here too long, I was beginning to forget what human faces looked like. How was your day, gorgeous? Other than surprising me in class, of course."

Belle: "I believe it may have been mentioned, but I don't get tired of hearing it. This doesn't count as a bribe, by the way. I technically bought dinner for a friend and then we had a bunch of leftovers. You're doing me the favor by helping me get rid of some of them." Grabbing chopsticks and rice she made her way to another chair, relaxing for what felt like the first time in a week. "Long. I'm going to have to adjust my schedule, but it'll do. You know if you actually read your class notes - and paid attention - you wouldn't have been surprised. But the look on your face was well worth it."

Beau "What would it have been a bribe for? My company's always available, but I appreciate you and your friend not eating it all. If you just happen to not want to take ​any​ home I can help with that too," he teased, snagging chopsticks of his own and the noodles. "Let me know if you need any help with the schedule? Horrible at one for myself but pretty good at helping make them." He paused with noodles halfway to his mouth, a faux offended look on his face. "There were other things to focus on! This weekend was... intense to say the least. Was just glad to have my lesson plans done."

Belle: "For services rendered, if the stupid gossip blog gets ahold of it." She rolled her eyes and waved her chopsticks in the air as if scratching that topic out. "I've got it covered, just complaining." Amused, she leaned back in her chair and toed her heels off, curling her legs up beneath her. It wasn't a pose she adopted in front of just anyone. "My weekend was intense too. In a better way, but still. The rosters have been out for weeks, you could have glanced at it." She laughed, eating some of the rice. "I thought you were playing coy. You know if there wasn't an ethical issue I would have jumped your bones as soon as I found out you were here. How often are we ever in the same place, at the same time, and single?"

Beau shuddered at the idea of being called into an office because of the gossip blog, but at least so far they hadn't caught anything he'd been subtle about. "If they get ahold of it we can just prove we were friends a long time ago. Not sacrificing a friendship for a job," he muttered, but it was hard to stay irritated when Belle treated his office like she did his studio. "Any storied you'd care to share? I did! Briefly. Apparently not long enough to see your name, but we'll call that first semester dickery. Or. Something." The second the words were out of Belle's mouth he choked a little on his food and he cursed the absence of suave around his friend. "For the record, I'd have jumped your bones the second I knew you were interested. Four years of no opportunity to do all the dirty things I'd had in my head an now you're my ​student​. Fucking ethics. No, if I'd have known you were my student starting this morning I'd have done a lot more last night than just kiss you."

Belle: "You wouldn't lose your job, because there's no proof that we're sleeping together. Because we're not sleeping together," she pointed out, literally pointing with the chopsticks in hand. "None that you want to hear if you plan on keeping it in your pants." His reaction had her stifling more laughter, grabbing a bottle of water and tossing it his way. "I expected you to! I figured you'd read the roster and didn't want to risk it. I'd say I thought you weren't interested but...come on."

Beau "That's true. It's so ridiculous that they think there's no control among the teachers. I get clear abuses of power, or clear ethical lines being drawn, but..." He shrugged, still irritated by the entire topic of students and teachers. Maybe it wouldn't have been such an issue if it hadn't been so stirred up lately. "What kind of control do you think I have?" Beau faked shock, but it lasted a fraction of a second before he let it drop. "Didn't hide it well. But hey, I'm the master of control now, nothing to worry about."

Belle: Smiling over at him, Belle very slowly gave him a once-over, just to tease him. "That explains some things, anyway. How long have we known each other? A few more months will hardly kill us to wait." Standing again, she padded barefoot back over to his desk and grabbed some szechuan. "I'm thinking that I'm paying for that good weekend with a string of bad luck. Is it going to bug you if I see Martin again?"

Beau squirmed in front of her gaze. "You say that like you're so certain I'm still going to want to jump your bones at the end of the semester." A smirk teased the corners of his lips that would've given him away even if Belle ​didn't​ know him as well as she did. The noodles were slurped up between sentences, patting at his mouth at Beau's only effort to stay polite. "What happened?" He paused for a second but the reply came easily. "Aside from the regret I'm not sleeping with either of you? Nah, babygirl, you do what you want. Just let me know if someone messes with you or makes you in any way uncomfortable and I'll methodically destroy them for you. Martin included. Not that I think he ​would​, but,...."

Belle: "I'm not used to getting turned down and it's happened twice now in as many days. My taste is impeccable, so that can't be it," she said, humming and pursing her lips. It didn't bother her all that much, considering her options weren't limited to Beau and Malcolm, but she couldn't help being a little bit dramatic. She nudged her knee against his, the only really safe bit of affection that she could give him while they were in his office. "I'll let you know, papa bear."

Beau 's eyebrow shot up, trying to imagine who'd turned Belle down. "Maybe it was someone not looking for anything right now?" He didn't quite connect the dots, still a little worn out from starting the new semester on just as little sleep as he always got. "Thank you. Can't get in trouble for protecting someone," Beau said with the most knowing grin. "Wait. Papa bear?" The drink he'd been sipping on got set down and for a moment he looked irritated before the laughter started, full and loud. "Fucking ​Frankie​. Now the whole school's going to go for it.:

Belle: "Mmm. Someone not looking for something with /me/ right now. Ethical considerations, you know the deal. And I'm not going into it more than that. Draw your own conclusions." His reaction to the nickname sparked her grin again and she wrinkled her nose at him. "They are, and it's fantastic. It suits you."

Beau "Of course I get it...." He trailed off, already making his own conclusions but deciding not to voice them for the moment. "How does it suit me?" The snort was just waiting to come through, and he briefly broke to lean forward and push at her shoulder in the most subtly teasing way he knew how to do. "You know what a bear is, right?!"

Belle: Belle shifted and kicked his foot before rubbing hers against his ankle, out of sight of anyone who might look into his office. It was still pretty weirs, a student sitting on her professor's desk after hours sharing a meal. But at least they wouldn't be seen playing footsie, good lord. "Yes I know what a bear is. I also know what you look like shirtleas, and the description seems pretty apt to me." Laughing for a moment, it turned into a sigh and a slightly wistful smile. "I should get going. I have homework and you're going for drinks with Martin." She paused for a second. "Didn't think it would be this difficult, you as my teacher. And not because you're a stickler in class."

Beau didn't discourage her in the slightest, hand going out to run a hand over her leg but caught himself in time. "So I've got to be a hairy to be considered a bear? Though hey, as long as no one's trying to go daddy kink on me then I'm not going to complain." A small huff slipped out, wanting to protest but knowing that anytime they hung out on campus it'd probably be veering towards short and sweet. "Did he tell you I should get drunk? He's encouraging my bad habits." It was a brief, very rushed move as Beau moved to brush his lips over her cheek, against the corner of her lip, but it was just innocent enough to be something just between friends if his office door popped open. "C'mon, up babe. We've only got... what... four more months? I'll keep you so busy grades will be in before we know it."

Belle: It took real effort for her not to move into the kiss, sighing instead as she squeezed his elbow and smiled. "I'll make it worth the wait. This time we might actually get past second base." Winking, she returned the kiss to his cheek quickly and went to slip her shoes back on. She left half the leftover takeout for him to bring home, bagging the rest and putting space between them on her way to the door. "Don't go easy on me, Professor Alistair. I like a challenge."

[anavoliselenu]

blood chapter 12

The phone on my nightstand rang but I wasn't getting it for anything.

I still had two hours before I had to get up for school and whoever was calling was just going to have to call back later.

After the sixth ring, I decided to pick up but I wasn't going to be happy about it, "Hello." I nearly growled.

"Good morning, Selena." My father's voice said, "I just wanted to call and see how you were doing?"

"Dad, I just spoke to you a couple of days ago."

"I know but I just feel bad that we don't talk more."

"Are you sure it's not because you miss me?" I laughed.

"I'm just making sure you're okay. I barely hear from you."

"I recall you telling me not to call but once a week."

"Yeah…that was then. How's school?"

I sat up in bed, "Fine. The classes are getting easier now that I'm more adjusted."

"Good, good. I expect exceptional grades."

"I know you do. How are you?"

"Fine. Just sitting here getting ready to go to work."

"So you decided to call me at, seven in the morning, which is like five over there?"

"I was bored." He admitted with a deep chuckle, "I hope you're not getting into trouble out there in the big city."

"Uh…no" I said simply.

"That didn't sound very promising."

"I'm staying focused on school." I decided to say.

"Good. No boys I need to meet?"

"No, I'm just the same old me." I lied, playing with the edge of my blanket.

"Well, I just wanted to call and talk about your mother. She's been riding me since you left that she wants you to visit."

"I know but it wasn't like we saw each other so much after I left." I rolled my eyes.

"She just misses you, we all do."

Charlie and I hung up when he had to leave for work and I set the phone back down on the nightstand, not really wanting to resume my sleep.

I moved the covers and traced the scratch marks on my leg that started near my left knee and went up for a couple of inches.

It had been a week since Halloween and I don't think I would ever forget that night. It all happened so quickly that I still wasn't sure what I was involved in but thankfully, Justin was there.

That whole weekend was a blur and I knew that I was in a dangerous situation but what was I supposed to do? I couldn't just leave Justin because my heart wouldn't let me. That being said, I never thought that my life would be in literal danger because of who he socialized with.

When that bitch Vienna came up and started talking to us in Plasma, I didn't think anything of it or the bodyguard who she brought around. I was over the whole 'my boyfriend is a gangster' thing. I know that I shouldn't be but I wasn't a normal girl. I had absolutely no self preservation instinct, which was slightly disturbing but I couldn't change that.

I knew what I wanted and it was Justin. If that came with his dark side then I was going to have to deal with it.

What I wasn't expecting was to be kidnapped by some gigantic football player. I didn't even hear him come up behind me and just felt the dude's hands on my wasit as he bounded my body in thick rope. He didn't say a word and just lifted me on his shoulder. I tried to scream and kick but nothing was working.

Like I was calling him in my head, I saw Justin round the corner to chase after me and then he went into animal mode. Justin literally beat the shit out of whats-his-name. The weird thing was that I wasn't fazed when I saw Justin attack. He thought that I would be scared of him but I was just glad that he was there.

I should have been terrified. I should have ran away and never looked back but I couldn't. Something in my mind was rationalizing Justin's horrible double life and I couldn't explain it.

It wasn't that I just accepted all of this because that's not how it was but I chose to internalize my debates. Justin didn't need to know that I was scared out of my fucking mind. He didn't need to know that it was hard to wrap my brain around all of this. I knew that in the end, I wouldn't leave him but the road up to that point was one I had to walk alone. I wanted to appear like nothing was bothering me or he would get worried. I knew him well enough to notice that.

We still hadn't really talked about that night, why, I didn't know but if hew wasn't bringing it up then neither was I.

I decided that it was time to get out of bed and lifted myself up, trudging towards the bathroom. After my long, warm shower and the completion of my morning routine, I dried off before dressing in jeans along with a thick sweater.

The first week of November came with an uncharacteristic flurry of early winter snow. It wasn't a lot and only lasted for a couple of hours but it was still enough to bring out the heavy coats and boots. The heat of summer was officially gone.

When it was time, I threw my backpack over my shoulder and went into the elevator that was closing. I made it in right before the doors snapped shut. I would have rather waited instead of being trapped in there with Janice.

"Hi Selena" She waved annoyingly.

"Hi." I answer simply.

"Did you have a good Halloween? I know I did. I met this guy at some party and we had sex. Did you have sex?"

I didn't even bother answering that question.

"Well anyway, he came over last night so I guess you're not the only one with gentleman callers, huh?"

"I guess not."

"It isn't a competition or anything but my guy is way hotter than yours."

I couldn't help my words, "I highly doubt that."

"It's true. We'll have to double sometime."

I tapped my foot, praying that the elevator would go quicker or that someone would step on to save me from this girl.

"Did you get your CD?" She asked

"What CD?"

"The one I put under your door last week." Janice bobbed her head to the music on her iPod.

I kind of didn't know what to say and the breath was knocked out of me. I had to hold onto the railing before I fell over.

"That was you?"

"Yeah, some dude paid me a hundred dollars to slip it under your door." She shrugged, "Did you get it?"

"Yeah, I got. Someone actually paid you?" I asked, trying to stay casual.

"He sure did. He was cute too." She thought out loud.

"What did he look like?"

"Really tall, dark skinned, short black hair. He said his name was Jacob and I was supposed to tell you that but you weren't home and I kind of forgot until now."

"Jacob…Black?" I muttered.

"That was his name. Was it porn?" Janice inched closer to me.

Thankfully the doors opened and I went into the lobby, quickly avoiding her. I pulled the hood of my coat over my head and started off to my first class.

I sat in my seat and texted Justin the news that I had just learned. Jacob was after me and we had suspected that but now we had some proof. Justin said that he would "take care of it". That's what he had been saying for the past week when he had business to deal with. I didn't ask questions because I was still getting used to this but I suspected what he was doing on his nights out with his brothers.

No one acted any differently though.

As the day progressed, the minutes seemed to get longer and longer. Seth wasn't in math, which I found kind of strange but I didn't pay any attention to it. I dutifully completed my work and took notes in preparation for finals in the coming weeks.

By the time lunch rolled around, I was ready to just pass out on my bed but the day was made slightly better by the fact that Justin kept texting. I couldn't help but smile at his words or laugh at his silly attempts of jokes.

He told me that we were going out for a nice dinner tonight because there was something he needed to tell me. I was all in favor of just skipping dinner and heading right up to his apartment but he said that I was trying to outsmart him. I had no idea what he wanted to say. I figured it was going to be something bad since the message had that kind of tone to it.

For the most part, I just sat in class and tried to soak up all the information that I could, without looking too bored.

Finally, the day ended after a brutal discussion on Herman Melville in literature and I made it up to my room without any distractions.

As soon as I closed the door, my phone started ringing.

"Hello." I picked up and threw my backpack on the bed.

"Hi, how was your day?" Justin asked and I could hear the roar of his car in the background.

"Good, nothing to report but I have paper due at the end of the week." I pulled my coat off.

"On what?"

"Moby Dick. I think I'm supposed to compare the sea to the world or something like that."

"I have an early 19th century copy of Moby Dick in my library."

"I bet you do Mr. Showoff."

He laughed, "I was just calling to say that I'm on my way."

"But I'm not dressed yet, I thought you said we're not going to dinner until seven." I looked at the clock that read five.

"Can't I just spend time with you?" Justin said in a joking voice.

"I guess."

"I'll be at the front in about ten minutes."

"I'll sign you in."

We hung up without an 'I love you' or any type of goodbye for that matter. Actually, since last weekend, neither of us had said it again and I couldn't figure out why.

I knew that Justin was probably never going to utter those words lightly and it would take him a long time to get used to the idea but he said that he loved me. That was good enough. I don't know why I never said it again but on some level, I didn't think that I had to. He knew how I felt and I showed him every day so it just seemed redundant. I know that makes no sense but I didn't have any other way of explaining it.

I picked myself up and went downstairs to the proctor station to wait for Justin. He drove up in his silver Aston Martin, not even bothering to park it legally, and stomped through the inch layer of snow in his charcoal gray suit. I was about to die right there, my lower half suddenly needed some attention.

Good thing we had two hours.

He pulled open the front door and shivered slightly from the temperature change.

"Damn, I hate the cold." He said and came up to me, pulling out his wallet.

"This is nothing compared to a Forks winter." I took his I.D and handed it to the proctor.

"I don't think I've ever been to Washington." Justin kissed the top of my head, "Is it nice?"

"It's boring." I took the id back from the proctor after he signed Justin in.

We got into the elevator and I pushed him against the wall as we went up.

"Eager, aren't we?" He smirked and descended on my lips.

"I am more than a little sexually frustrated right now." I moved my hands to his hair where they took their place in tangles.

"That's why I got here early." He lifted me up easily and pressed us against the back wall.

His lips took over, strong yet tender, as they molded into mine. His tongue didn't even bother asking for permission as it dove into my mouth with reckless abandon and I sucked gently, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

My legs wrapped around his waist so tightly that I couldn't feel the blood flowing through my veins.

"Selena, you're about to bite my lips off." Justin mumbled through kisses.

"Oh, sorry." I said even though I wasn't.

"There will be more time for this when we get inside." He wouldn't let me go as he carried us out of the elevator and down the hall towards my room.

"Why do you have so many layers on?" I asked and pulled a scarf from around his neck.

He took the key from my hands and hastily fumbled with it behind my back. The door swung open and he kicked it closed.

"If you haven't noticed, it's freezing outside." Justin set me down on the bed and began kissing my neck with as much fervor as I had in the elevator.

"So, it takes forever to get you naked." I pushed the heavy coat from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

"Why are you talking so much?" He lifted my shirt up quickly.

"Because I'm nervous" I started with the buckle of his belt, ripping it off his body with one quick movement, "I'm always nervous when it comes to you."

"That's good to know." He pushed me down, taking my jeans off easily, "Why are we going so fast?"

"Because the last time we had sex was a week ago. You can't tell me you're not about to combust." I watched as Justin unbuttoned his shirt and folded it.

"Be that as it may, you are some kind of nymphomaniac." He grinned, "Did I do that to you?"

"Definitely" I pulled him back over me to capture his lips in mine as I laid in nothing but my cotton panties and bra.

He moved his lips from my neck and kissed my chin up to my mouth where he stayed as his right hand massaged my breast and his thumb gently caressed my jaw.

His hand tilted my head back so our eyes met.

His deep green eyes were studying me with such passion that I was about to explode. His right hand was now buried underneath my hair as his thumbs glided back and forth on my jawbones. I saw his jaw twitch as he closed his eyes and lowered his forehead onto mine with our noses touching tip to tip. Our mouths brushed against the outer ridges of our lips.

"Selena, you have no idea how happy I am with you. I might not say it but it's true."

"I know and I feel the same way."

"I…I think I love you." He sighed, his breath washing across my face.

"You said think again. What do you feel?"

"I feel like…I think I love you." He chuckled, "I'm working on it." He kissed me softly.

"I can't believe the beast is tamed."

"He will never be tamed. He's just sleeping, hibernating for the winter." Justin clarified.

"Gotcha" I knotted my fingers in his hair, "I guess you could categorize us as lovers but then again, we feel so much more for each other and I can't really explain it…"

"Shhh...you're talking too much." He swallowed my words.

He interrupted me as his lips pressed into mine. I meshed mine against his and slowly our tongues slid into each other. My hands left his hair and wrapped around his back, squeezing us closer. Our mouths moved fervently and hastily as we violently exhaled out of our noses. My pussy and his cock were pressed tightly and became tighter as I wrapped my legs around his hips, clasping at the ankles and pulling his ass even closer into me. If he didn't have his pants on, his cock would be nestled inside of me already.

"You have to take your pants off." I mumbled.

"Oh yeah" His hands quickly undid the button and he pushed them as far down as they would go. I kicked them off further and they fell from the bed, "I would normally need to fold those but my dick is too hard to care. I'm hurting down there."

"Good"

He broke away from our entanglement, panting, and chest heaving.

His hand ran through his disheveled hair, making it worse. I sat up on my elbows, legs parted-giving him a view of everything. His eyes wandered from my face, down my chest, to my stomach and then zeroed in on my most intimate part. Lust filled his gaze as his tongue slowly wet his bottom lip.

"Geez…" Justin breathed in a whisper.

I stayed silent as his eyes continued to roam my body.

I sat up on my knees, hands on my thighs and stared back. My lips were barely opened and my skin began to creep from the temperature of the air.

"Is there something you wanted?" I asked and moved closer to him. Justin was quite the site in just his boxers but I tried to stay focused.

I stroked the top of his dick in his boxers and his body shivered.

"No, I just don't want to hurt you like I did that one time. I've been too fast."

"No you haven't. I told you that." I continued to stroke him through his underwear.

"Selena, we have to go slow. I don't want to put you in any pain." He warned with sad eyes.

"Then let me lead." I kissed him and climbed into his lap. We repositioned ourselves so that I was lying on top of him and I felt his dick grow almost painfully hard in his boxers.

I let my eyes roam his body like his had done to me.

His muscles looked as if someone had taken a chisel and carved the valleys in his skin. He was toned, cut, sharp, soft and lean. Little sprigs of hair lightly flecked his pale chest, making it that much sexier.

Our eyes traveled back up to meet again. I wanted him, more than any other human being. The look mirrored back at me said he felt the same towards me. The urge to lunge towards him was almost asphyxiating.

I found myself straddling his hips with one of his hands pressed on my lower back and the other twisted in my hair, bringing it up off my neck. Our mouths collided with fiery passion that brought forth deep breathing, pants and groans that only animals would be able to decipher. My fingers were wrapped in his hair. I pulled as hard as I could just to make sure it wasn't a toupee.

Throughout all of this, Justin had hooked his fingers into my panties and began sliding them down my legs without even giving me warning. I don't know how but they were off in a second. I actually think that he ripped them.

I'm not complaining.

As we played tug-o-war with our mouths, he pressed my hips firmer into his groin and I rolled onto him so that I could feel everything between my legs. His cock was rock hard and strained the fabric of his boxers, trying to break free. I sought to release it, to have my hands and mouth wrapped around the warm, engorged flesh but I knew Justin would never let me go down on him. He said I was too good but I was determined to break him one of these days.

His abdomen was hot, smooth and made me want to rub my bare skin against it.

I could feel him under me as he pulled off his boxers and flung them somewhere back aside. A gasp escaped my lips as I felt his hardness against my stomach. I still couldn't get over how big he was.

"I have to be on top." Justin flipped us over so seamlessly that I didn't even notice it.

"Wrap your legs around me," He roughly demanded.

I did as I was told.

My legs opened wide when I felt his hand guide them apart. When his body made contact with mine, I let out an embarrassing moan. He rested his cock directly on my pussy, parting the lips with his head, and stroked back and forth on my clit.

Small screams flowed out of my mouth as I threw my head back into the comforter and arched my back, thrusting my tits into his chest. He took the open invitation and devoured a breast after removing my bra, throwing it to the floor.

His hot tongue circled my nipple and then flicked it before his lips eased up and enclosed the taut pinkness. He suckled hard as his hand groped my other breast and his fingers pinched the nipple.

My loud moans echoed off the walls. I was going to be getting complaints soon but I didn't care. Everything was blacked out, everything but him. Justin had moved his lips from my breast and was now devouring my neck with open-mouthed kisses. The hot breath from his throat heated my skin to a near boiling point.

I turned my head, giving him better access. His left hand had moved to the base of my skull as his right hand hitched my leg up over his hip further.

His cock was full on fucking me without entering me and it was painful as he rubbed his bursting length against my lower half. The friction on my clit, his assault on my breasts, neck, and mouth were almost nirvana; but I knew it got better. I knew when he finally entered me that it would be my true heaven.

We rocked against each other, echoing out moans, grunts, and whimpers.

As he slid back and forth over my cunt, I tried angling my hips in different positions, wanting him to slip into me but he wouldn't allow it.

Justin restrained me with his entire body, pushing me deeper into the bed.

"We will fuck on my terms," He growled into my mouth. "You know better by now."

"I thought you were supposed to be taking it slow?"

"Yeah well you seem to have given up on that."

At the sound of his dominant words, I felt my toes beginning to curl, the coil in my stomach tightened to an almost painful level and my back arched to the point of contortionist abilities. He was bringing me to an orgasm without even being in me. My senses were working on overload as Justin continued to pulsate against my body.

I dug my fingernails into the soft, pale flesh of his shoulder blades and pushed him harder with my ankles.

The head of his dick rubbed against my clit, causing me to moan. He bit his lip, adjusted himself above me. I felt a fiery heat rip through my body as he pierced the head of his cock inside me with one swift motion.

I threw my head back and almost screamed to the high heavens.

Justin worked slowly at first, letting my body get accustomed to his length and girth. I watched as he slid in and out of me as I looked up at him through my lashes.

"God, you're so fucking tight." Justin pushed harder but still gently.

I could only nod in answer.

Once my body was used to him being inside, he picked up the rhythm and started going faster and harder. We pounded against each other, meeting thrust for thrust. He let my legs bend loosely to allow him deeper into me.

The tight friction and him hitting that the right spot every time, brought figurative tears to my eyes.

His hips began gyrating against me so pressure could be applied to my clit while he pounded with enough force to break the bed. I started trying to rotate and roll my hips to meet his. He was so deep within me that each movement sent me skyrocketing once again.

Justin's lips snarled and his face contorted in aggression as he started fucking me harder.

The hammering was amazing. The sheer brutality turned me on even more. I felt my cum running out of me, coating his dick. His thrusts started to sound wet and that was what did it.

Justin let out an almost animalistic growl as I felt him erupt within me, shooting out liquid in jets.

My breathing was to the point of hyperventilating and I could feel the sweat over my body but it wasn't gross. I couldn't move and I didn't want to.

He stayed above me for a long minute, just calming down.

"Holy shit." Justin rolled off of me, bringing my body with him so that I rested on his chest. He kissed the top of my head with soft lips, "You're going to kill me."

"You say that a lot." I looked at him.

"Because it's true."

I looked at the clock that now read six.

"We still have an hour before dinner."

"Shower" Justin said simply and lifted us off the bed, carrying me over his shoulder.

By the time our "shower" was over, my limbs were jelly and my body was about to collapse from sheer pleasure. There was nothing I could do to quell the way Justin's hands worked wonders on my most intimate areas.

"Where are we going?" I asked as I wrapped myself in a towel and stood in front of my wall closet.

"One of Jasper's places" Justin dried off and pulled on his boxers along with his pants.

"I envy men. You just have to step into a suit and you're done." I threw my hands up and I dug through the clothes that Alice insisted I have.

"But you look hotter than I do." Justin wrapped his arms around me.

"So you say." I pushed him off so that I wouldn't get distracted.

Half an hour later, I was in a pair of dark skinny jeans, and a cream colored sweater that wasn't anything special but still looked nice. I put on a black leather jacket that I had never noticed before but guessed that Alice had thrown it in there. I was tempted to just wear sneakers since it was still kind of wet inside but with Justin looking like a model, I couldn't go out in anything less than perfection so I put on a pair of cream colored, booties that had a tall heel and came up to cover my ankle.

"There." I huffed and moved some hair out of my face when I was done, "Do I look good enough?"

"Perfect." Justin chuckled and got up from the bed, pulling his coat over his shoulders.

I made sure I had my key and wallet before he led me out of the room. We stayed connected in the elevator and went down, heading outside into the cold.

He held the door open for me and I slid into the supple leather. Justin started the car and heated it up before we sped off down the street.

"So, what's the occasion?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you needed to talk to me so I assume that's what dinner is for."

"Oh yeah, well I wanted to keep you in the loop…like you wanted."

"Right." I nodded in understanding.

"I'll explain it all at dinner." He took my hand and continued to drive.

We pulled up to the front of a nice looking restaurant called Scarpetta and it looked extremely expensive with its Bordeaux red coloring and gold handled doors.

A valet in a vest opened the car door for me and took my hand.

"Welcome, Ms." He smiled and Justin was at my side in an instant.

"Don't scratch the car." He dropped the keys into the valets hand and yanked me towards the entrance.

I decided not to call Justin out on his possessive nature because I knew he would deny everything. He couldn't see the way he acted with me around other men and it was kind of scary.

"How many restaurants does Jasper own?" I asked as Justin led me to the back of a large dining room that was filled with happy looking people and soft glows.

"About ten in Chicago, but more around the country." Justin answered and helped me with my jacket when we arrived at our booth. I slid in easily. He sat across from me.

"This is nice." I looked around.

"This was the place Esme influenced. It's all her doing." He explained.

"I can see that." I said as I saw the rich artwork and old world feel that the place evoked. It was almost like sitting in a restaurant in Tuscany.

A waiter arrived at our table with a huge smile, "Welcome to Scarpetta, can I get you two some wine to start off with."

"Yes please." I said. Justin gave me a scolding look and I deflated, "I'll have water." I sunk into the booth.

"And I'll have a glass of Pinot. I think we'll just have the Italian classic." Justin handed the menus back to the waiter.

"Right away, sir." He nodded and scurried off.

"I can drink if I want to." I crossed my arms.

"I'll just have your father arrest you for illegal alcohol consumption."

"Blah, blah." I sat up straighter, "I think you just like drinking in front of me to make fun of me. Rose does it too."

He laughed, "Well you get very agitated over the simple fact that you're underage."

"I still have three more years until I'm even able to drink. That's so far away and depressing." I sighed.

"At least you're not bordering on middle age." Justin combed through his hair, "I think I had my first hip spasm this morning when I rolled out of bed."

"I would have loved to see that."

Our drinks were brought and Justin just asked for the bottle, pouring me a little when I complained further although I didn't really care about drinking. I just wanted a small taste.

"So, I think we need to talk." Justin began, "We haven't really discussed what happened on Halloween."

"Yeah." I agreed.

"I thought you might want to know what's going on since it has something to do with you."

"I haven't done anything." I crossed my arms on the table and leaned in.

"I think I need to explain further because there were some things that Carlisle left out of his story last week."

"Okay."

Justin let out a deep breath, "Basically, in a mafia family, there is a line of succession that travels down to ensure that there is always a head."

"Right, I've read the Wikipedia sources. It goes from oldest to youngest."

"In most cases but not in ours. I'm the next in line." He took back a gulp of wine.

"After Carlisle?" I asked and he nodded, "But…what about Emmett or Jasper?"

"It doesn't always have to be the oldest. Carlisle can choose whoever he wants and Emmett has certain flaws that won't do him well in this business. Jasper isn't even eligible because he's not Bieber by blood though Carlisle fought for him to gain some kind of position a long time ago. I'm most like my father I guess and that's why he's grooming me to be the leader one day."

"One day?"

"Twenty, thirty years. Tomorrow if he wants." Justin shrugged.

I sat back and thought out loud, "That's a lot on your shoulders."

"Yeah, I'm called Il Principe in our world or the Prince and since our family basically controls everything, I have a lot to live up to."

"I bet."

"People have always been after us but now that there has been a clear line of succession set up, they will start targeting me as the years go on."

"Targeting you as in…"

"Trying to cut the family apart. They'll try to take out the strongest link first but Carlisle isn't even an option. It's all about the future. If I'm gone, we won't necessarily crumble but our family will be a lot weaker."

"What does that have to do with Halloween?" I asked, kind of scared at where this conversation was going.

"We have adversaries and lots of them. Vienna is from the Volturi line and their leader is Aro, her uncle. He's a horrible man but not unlike Carlisle. Then there is James who you met, leader of the Denali's. Several more dot the country but none of them are that important. The main point I'm trying to make is that we have a lot of enemies."

"I would imagine." I said in a whisper. My throat wouldn't let me speak louder.

"After that night, I went to Aro and didn't accuse him of anything because that could be very dangerous but he assured me that he didn't give any orders to Vienna and I believed him because up until then, he didn't even know about you so I'm thinking that Vienna was just drunk and ordered her bodyguard to take you or something. We can't ask him of course since…" Justin let his sentence trailed off.

I nodded.

"Anyway, I have no desire to speak with Vienna again and I think that she knows she's in trouble. Her uncle wasn't very happy with her pranks and he supposedly cursed her out. The point is, that kind of think happens from time to time."

"Justin, I was kidnapped. That doesn't just happen." I stressed to him.

"In my world, it does. Sometimes things turn out worse than what you experienced and that's why I never wanted you to know about any of this. Vienna's reasoning was probably based on jealousy but other people will be after you for other reasons."

"I don't like the sound of that."

Justin looked extremely worried for the first time since I had met him, "I need to make sure that you're safe. By now, Aro and everyone else will know who you are and that's a big deal. I've never had anyone that I've been attached to. They'll hone in on you."

"I don't understand."

"One day, maybe…you might kind of be important to us. It might not seem like it, but Esme, for instance, holds a lot of power in the mafia community. She's Carlisle wife and that alone is serious but she's also got gang related blood running through her so everyone knows to respect her. That doesn't mean that they don't wish she was dead. Without her, my father would be half the man he is today. Everyone knows how much she means to him and they know that he would lose his zeal so to speak. He wouldn't be as effective without Esme."

It took me a minute to process all of this and I suddenly became extremely concerned.

"You're in a lot of danger Selena and I'm sorry. They all realize that you mean a lot to me and if they could, they would use you as a bargaining chip for a whole multitude of things. I don't want to scare you but I'm trying to warn you. You're life is forever changed because of me."

"So…they'll try to get to me because I'm with you." I said, trying to get some clarification.

"Exactly but don't worry. I have your safety under control." He held up his hands.

"Oh, well that's great. Now I don't have to worry at all. What do I get, bodyguards?" I replied sarcastically.

Justin's eyes shifted slightly.

"You can't be serious?" I almost shouted, "This is unbelievable. I can't take this."

"It's for your own good, Selena. I won't have you walking around the streets unprotected and if I can't be with you at all times then I need to ensure that you're safe."

"So what about last week when I was kidnapped, where were they then?"

"The old ones were let go. I've hired new help and they've been doing their job better over the past few days."

"I can't…I don't…I'm so confused and mad right now." I grabbed my purse and scooted out of the booth, "I'm going to the bathroom."

He stood when I left the table, just like a gentleman would but I was too angry to notice his attempts at chivalry.

I stomped to the bathroom in the back of the restaurant and pushed my way through the door. I didn't really need to go so I just stood in front of the mirror and washed my hands.

Is this really what he needed to tell me?

I understood everything he said because I had prepared for it. Of course the Il Principe thing was a little much to accept in one sitting but I suspected something like that. I could put the pieces together in my mind. Justin just seemed like he was being put in charge of more than everyone else and in their family, I could see the lines of division.

I guess it slightly worried me that I was considered unsafe because of his position but what about Alice or Rose? Weren't they in as much danger as me?

I was mad because he never told me about the bodyguards. I didn't like the feeling of people following me when I didn't know about it. Now I was going to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.

I dried my hands off and started to go back into the dining room but as I swung the bathroom door open, I hit something hard on the other side.

"Oh, sorry." I said and looked up at maybe the biggest man I had ever seen. He had short brown hair and light gray eyes with a strong face that looked as hard as marble.

"No problem, Ms. Swan." He spoke deeply and calmly.

I sighed and moved a piece of hair out of my face, "You must be my bodyguard I've just learned about."

"One of many, Ms." He held out his plate sized hand, "Benny."

"Selena" I shook it, "Uh…you won't be following me everywhere, will you?"

"Yes, ma'am. Until Mr. Justin deems it unnecessary but I've been with Mrs. Esme for years so I doubt that will happen."

"Esme has bodyguards too?" I asked even though I already knew the answer.

"Many, Ms."

That made me feel slightly better.

"It was nice meeting you." I began to walk back and then stopped when I felt him follow me, "Uh…could you give me some space?"

"This is space." He looked down and measured our distance from each other.

"Will you be sitting in my classes and following me to the grocery store?"

"I won't be sitting in. I've never been good a school." He made a sad attempt at a joke, "But I'll always be close by."

"Well then welcome to my boring life." I shook his hand again and went back to the table where Justin was working on the last of the wine.

"I take it you met Benny?" He nodded to the man who was moving towards the back of the dining area.

"Such a charming man." I replied.

"He does card tricks. He's really funny. I've known him since I was a kid."

"Aren't Alice and Rose in as much danger as me?" I asked my question that I had in the bathroom.

"No. They do have a certain amount of danger from being associated with us but you're special." Justin took my hand, "They will all want you to get to me. The police obviously know who you are, Aro knows and it's only a matter of time before you meet everyone else in our world. Once they find out you're the daughter of a cop, it will only get worse."

"So I have to look over my shoulder forever?"

"No, that's my job. I'll always protect you and you won't have to ever worry, especially when you're with me but I just wanted to make sure you knew what was going on. We all have security around us. It's just part of our life and now yours."

I breathed out a rush of breath.

"I know I probably scared the hell out of you but…"

"No, no. I understand and I'm glad that you told me." I assured him, "It was just a lot to take in."

"I realize that."

"So…I know that I'm safe, but what about you?" That was my only worry because I guessed that Justin had taken more than enough precautions with me.

"I have a few bodyguards and a gun on me at all times but nowhere near the amount of security I have requested for you."

"Why not? You could get hurt just as much as I could." I said, almost worried.

"I have training, Selena. I know how to take care of myself."

"But anything could happen."

Justin laughed, "You're starting to get gray hairs. Stop worrying about me. I'm just trying to make sure you're safe."

The rest of dinner was used for Justin to explain to me more about what was going on.

I needed details on what I was to expect if I was going to be with him. I felt like I was living in some kind of movie but somehow, I easily understood it all. It made sense to me. I wasn't as scared as I thought I would be because Justin just seemed so sure I would be kept safe. His words and his eyes just held a certain level of security that I couldn't help but believe.

I decided to stay at Justin's that night for one, because he said I had to and two, because I wanted to. He told me that there would always be a guard across the street from my dorm so I didn't have to worry but I was still getting used to this so I decided it was better to be safe than sorry. I didn't have class until later the next afternoon anyway.

That night we didn't do anything but kiss and talk but we still didn't get to bed until three in the morning. I slept next to him easily without any thought of bodyguards or guns or crazy ex-girlfriends. It was peaceful.

The next morning, a shrill ringing woke us both up. Justin almost fell off of the bed to reach it.

"Hello." He growled into the phone, "No…we don't want to go….it's seven in the morning….go by yourself….fine….shut up." Justin slammed the phone down.

"Who was that?" I snuggled deeper into his pillows.

"Emmett. He wants us to go to the gun range."

"Have fun."

"I said us as in all of us."

"But…it's early." I groaned.

"I know." He got out of bed and pulled me with him, "Come on. It'll be entertaining." He dragged me to the shower.

An hour later, we were clean, dressed and Justin had shoved a gigantic cup of coffee into my hands as he drove through traffic.

"I don't see why I have to go." I complained.

"Because shooting is fun." Justin actually smiled.

"So then you go and let me sleep."

"You can take a nap later." He sped up quickly and I stayed quiet as he maneuvered his way through slower cars.

We arrive at a place called Shootout and it looked like a small warehouse. Emmett's Hummer was parked along with a massive Harley. They were the only two vehicles in the parking lot.

Rose, Emmett, Alice, Jasper, and Alec hopped out of the Hummer when Justin parked.

"Who owns that thing?" I asked Rose and pointed to the motorcycle.

"Jasper" Alice squealed, "He looks so hot on it too. I swear he almost took me right on the seat."

"Too much." Emmett covered his ears, "I won't listen and we have a child present."

"We've done worse." Rose commented.

"But still…I don't want to have that image in my head."

"I bet it would be hot." Jasper licked his lips.

"Can we just get inside? My balls are freezing off." Justin shivered and wrapped and arm around me from behind.

"I can't wait to watch Selena kick some ass with a gun." Emmett pushed us all inside.

A sketchy looking man greeted us in an accent. "Hello, everyone."

"Hiya, Damon." Emmett waved, "We just came to do some early morning shooting."

"Everything's ready in the back."

"Thanks."

We took off our coats and walked through the store that held an impressive collection of ballistics but nowhere near what I saw in Justin's gun vault. I knew the basics of shooting but didn't really have that much experience myself. Charlie taught me though.

The back of the store was a gun range with booths set up, all lined in a row in front of what looked like a cement garage.

"No paper cutouts." I said as I saw the manikins on raised platforms.

"We like shooting bodies." Jasper said coldly and raised an eyebrow.

"How sweet." I took back the last of my coffee and put my jacket on a chair.

"So, the person with the best groupings win one thousand dollars." Rose suggested.

"You know what you're doing?" Justin asked as he put some ear mufflers over my head.

"I'm the daughter of a cop. I know how to shoot."

"Just checking" He smirked, "Can you handle this?" He handed me his golden gun that I couldn't even hold up. It was so heavy that my shoulder felt like it popped out of the socket, "It's called a Desert Eagle; my favorite gun."

"I think I need to work up to that. Give me something smaller." I looked through whatever was behind us in the cabinets.

Emmett choose a massive AK-47, Rose was wielding a scary looking shotgun, Jasper was helping Alice with a smaller pistol since she didn't really know what to do, and Alec was masterfully shoving the magazine into an Eagle like Justin's.

"That's actually one of mine." Justin said to me as we watched Alec, "I gave it to him. It took him two weeks to hold that up. It took me six months."

"But…he's so small."

"He's strong though. He can shot it too without flying backwards. He's a natural."

"Impressive."

"I'm slightly worried about this."

"I don't know much about guns but I know the mechanics of it. Which one should I use?" I looked down into the illuminated gun cabinet.

"How about a Beretta 96D? Those are girl guns." He said seriously.

"I don't need a girl gun." I shoved him.

"Okay, okay." He reached back into the back and pulled out a black, gun with a ribbed handle that was almost as big as my forearm, "This one will do."

"What is it?" I took the pistol from him and it was heavy, really heavy.

"A SigP2022. It's got a lot of kickback so I'll stand behind you. Can you hold it up?"

I could but my arm was already sore, "Just for a little bit."

"That's long enough to get a couple shots off."

Justin moved us towards a booth and turned on the lights so that they were illuminated all the way down to the manikin.

"Okay, so feet shoulder width apart." Justin positioned himself behind me, flush against my body and nudged my legs away from each other, "Stand straight towards the target." He moved my shoulders slightly.

"What about bullets?"

"That's last. You have to get your body position right or you won't ever get a straight shot. Make sure your hips don't shift at an angle and when you raise the gun, lift it straight up to nose level, not too high but not too low."

"Okay." I breathed.

"Can we shoot already?" Emmett yelled.

"Hold on!" Justin yelled back. He reached over my body and took my hands in his, "Now we check the magazine to make sure it's filled and snap it into the handle." He pushed the cartridge in, "Cock it back, take the safety off and we're ready. Simple stuff."

"Got it." I went over the list of things in my head.

"When was the last time you shot something?" Justin chuckled.

"Uh…two years ago." I guessed, "But I'm not afraid of guns. Charlie's taught me before."

"I'll stay here then for your safety." He put the mufflers on his head and raised my arms up with the gun out in front of us, "You ready?"

"Yeah"

"Okay, don't hesitate to press the trigger. If you have a shot then take it. Take in a deep breath…" We both did, "…hold it, and shoot." His finger pulled back on the trigger with mine underneath and my arms shook from the vibrations of the bullet ripping through steel.

I stood firm but if Justin wasn't there, I would have been thrown into the far wall.

"Wow." I fell back against Justin's chest.

"Hey, you cheated." Jasper stuck his head in our booth.

"It was just a test shot." Justin pushed his head away, "You did good. Killed the bastard." He hit a button next to us and the manikin began gliding towards us on a platform. It stopped right in front of me with a hole through his heart.

"Wow." Was all I could say.

"No shaking limbs, no kickback burns." Justin checked over me, "You're a pro. Can you take it from here?"

"Uh…sure." I gave a half-cracked smile.

He laughed at me, "Okay, I won't go anywhere." He stood behind me again and pushed the button so that the body flew back in position.

After half an hour of test practice, I thought that I had gotten kind of good but Justin thought otherwise. He said he wasn't leaving and he meant it. Justin helped me master the gun I had before we tried shooting his Eagle. That didn't go so well and my arms basically feel off after that.

"I think she's good enough to join in the competition." Emmett commented as he looked and my blown up manikin, "Let's do this!"

"We'll be a team. I'm not going anywhere." Justin took off his earmuffs and smoothed out his hair, "You know how to shoot now but can you do it with distractions?"

"Distractions?"

"Yeah, you don't always get a nice gun range in the streets. If someone is going to attack you then they don't set it up all nice and pretty like this."

I began to get slightly scared at the thought of me using a gun for real but if it came to that, Charlie had taught me that in self defense, I could do anything to get away. Little help that did me on Halloween.

"But I just started getting good. I need time to perfect myself." I said.

"No time. " Justin snickered and hit a button above my head. "Everyone ready?"

"Yeah." Jasper replied from the other booth.

"We have to beat Rosalie. She's the best shot besides me." Justin whispered in my ear as he positioned me like he did before.

"Okay." I nodded and checked the gun.

"Fifty shots and the best groupings win." Emmett explained, "In the head, chest or groin. None of that leg, arm shit."

"Is he serious?" I asked.

"Yes." Justin sighed, "He has a bit of a violence problem. We're trying to get him into therapy."

"I bet you're worse."

"If only you knew."

Guns began firing all around me and there was a lot of noise but that was all canceled out by the mufflers I had over my head. As per Justin's orders, I didn't look anywhere but in my eye line so that I didn't get confused.

By my third shot, I had hit the body in front of me, right in the chest but the next one was in the shoulder so that didn't do me any good.

"Remember, don't let the gun move and work through the distractions." Justin said as his hands left my shoulders.

"Where are you going?" I shouted over the bullets.

"Nowhere, just keep shooting."

I nodded and held the gun firm as I continued my bombardment on the poor fake man.

I suddenly felt long, warm fingers under my shirt, right over my stomach.

I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Don't move, Selena." Justin commanded, "You'll hurt someone."

"Stop touching me."

"Work through the distractions." He repeated and repositioned me. His fingers continued to dance across my skin.

This was unfair on the highest level. He knew what he was doing and there was no way that I was going to be able to think straight with his touches on me.

I could basically see the smile on Justin's lips without even turning around as his fingers ran along the waistband of my jeans, just barely touching the flesh of my hips. They dipped lower and into my panties.

My knees almost collapsed but thankfully, Justin was there to hold me up. I dropped my arms, not from pain but from pleasure.

"This can't be safe." I muttered under my breath.

Justin forced my arms back up in the shooting position, "I want to see bullets leaving that gun, Selena."

I started re-firing at his demand but my body was very aware of him behind me and I was just waiting for the attack again.

Justin's fingers didn't even bother with a warning again as they just dug under my panties and the pad of his thumb ran over my clit that was now in need of dire attention.

My arms shook, my legs shook, my core was vibrating with enough forced to rattle a tree from its roots.

"I like this game." Justin whispered in my ear and even with the coverings, I could hear him perfectly.

His index finger ran over my lips and parted them easily before he just finished completely, entering me in one motion.

I shot a bullet into the ceiling and that was enough for me.

I put the gun down and backed up, "You are in so much trouble." I pushed him out of the room, taking off our ear mufflers.

"Where are you two going?" Emmett yelled.

I didn't even bother answering him as I took Justin's keys from his pocket, unlocking the Aston Martin with the button.

"Selena, we're leaving the family behind." He chuckled as I pushed him in the back seat and followed.

"This is your fault." I nearly ripped his shirt off.

Needless to say, we didn't win the one thousand dollars.

I ran my hand along Selena's naked back as we lay in my bed.

We hadn't done anything tonight besides a lot of heavy kissing but I felt exhausted.

The November air was whipping around outside but in here, it was warm and toasty. For some reason, my body was extremely turned on by Selena at the moment and I had a suspicion as to what it was.

Earlier in the week, Selena showed off her stuff at the shooting range and it was the first time I saw her holding a gun with such authority. She was powerful and sexy without knowing what to do but it was hard to just watch her while I stood behind and guided the bullet out of the pistol.

That was three days ago and my dick felt like it had been permanently hard since then. I didn't want to jump her unexpectedly but it was painful to live through this. Maybe I was masochistic but I actually didn't want to have sex with Selena, if that makes any sense. I wanted to see how long she could hold my attention without it being physical.

So far, I had barely thought about fucking her minus the hard on in my pants at all hours of the day but as soon as I was in her presence, I just wanted to hear her speak or laugh. It was strange, but at this point I was just ready to throw in the towel. I had learned that my life with Selena was something I hadn't experienced. I was going to have to get over it.

I realized that I could actually do this. I could have a girlfriend and treat her right, even if I wasn't so much of a saint. With Selena, I didn't think of her as a girlfriend though. What should I call her?

We hadn't reached the point of soul mates and I didn't even know what that meant. I knew that I loved Selena even though I didn't say it in so many words so maybe she was my…

I was so confused. I felt like I'd known this woman for my entire life. We just meshed together perfectly on all levels without even trying.

"Why the long face?" Selena lifted her head up to look at me and rested her chin so that we could see each other.

"Nothing, just thinking" I sighed.

She nodded, "You'll give yourself gray hairs."

"Don't joke about that." I combed my hands through my locks, looking for jumpers, "We all can't be young whippersnappers like you."

"I know but I like 'em old." She kissed my chest, "Soccer dad old."

"I'm not that bad."

"Still, it's kind of hot."

"At least I can drink." I joked because I knew that pissed her off. She huffed and stayed silent.

We were quiet for a few minutes, just breathing in each other and not trying to rush things. This is the time with her that I valued most. We were alone and not really trying to do anything but feel our bodies together.

"Can I get a book from the library?" She asked with a slight enthusiasm in her voice.

"You don't ever have to ask." I kissed her shortly.

Selena giddily pulled on some of my boxers and my undershirt, looking incredibly sexy, before bouncing out of the room.

I lied back down and let my head sink into the puffy pillows. My cell phone on the nightstand rang but I wasn't planning on getting it. I didn't want to move.

I let the phone ring until it stopped completely but the shrill sound was back a couple of seconds later.

I groaned, picking up the phone, "Bieber."

"Hello, bro!" Emmett sang, "Good night?"

"Yes, it was very good up until the point when some monkey called me." I growled.

"Yeah, yeah. You're always so mean to me. I've been a good big brother."

"What do you want, Emmett?"

"Oh right, well we have work to do."

"Work? There wasn't anything scheduled for tonight." I went through my mental calendar just to make sure.

"I know but we caught a jumper. He's one of Aro's guys. The dude is down at the warehouse now."

"I don't feel like dealing with this at the moment." I plopped down on the sheets, "Can't you and Jasper just handle it?"

"No can do. Get your ass out of bed and tell Selena to stop putting out. You two won't be able to walk in the morning." He laughed.

"For your information, we were just having a quiet night without the sex." I got up, trudging to my drawer to pull on some underwear.

"Don't try to pull that trick on me. I know the truth."

"Shut up. I'll be there in half an hour." I ended the call, stepping into some pants and shrugging into a shirt.

Selena was standing at the doorway with a thick book held to her chest, "Do you have to work?"

"Apparently" I said regrettably as I went into my closet, taking a heavy coat from a hanger. I slipped into a pair of shoes and tamed my hair somewhat, "I don't know when I'll be back."

She nodded silently, "I figured."

I didn't want to leave but I had to. I grabbed my keys and took small steps towards Selena who was still near the door, "I'll bring you a present." I tried to cheer her up by wrapping us both in my large jacket. She fit perfectly against my body.

She cracked a small smile, "I don't want your pity gifts. I'll just sit here by my lonesome, reading like an old spinster." Selena kissed me lightly.

"I would love to join you."

"Yeah well, you can't. Maybe I'll run around the apartment naked and roll in syrup." She grinned, "I bet you'd love to see that."

"My brothers will be very upset with you if I don't leave now." I sucked her neck.

"That's your fault."

"I don't think so."

I continued my way up her neck towards her jaw and finally, placed my lips on hers.

I wanted more than anything to just pull her down on the bed so that we could continue this but I was already running late so I broke away painfully.

"I have to go." I rested my forehead against hers, our bodies still entangled in my jacket.

"I know. Be safe, you promised me you would."

"I always am."

"No bruises this time. I mean it, Justin." Selena raised her eyebrow in a motherly way, "I can't take anymore bruises."

"Those aren't even the half of how bad it can get."

"Don't say that." She closed her eyes, "I don't want to imagine it."

"We need to toughen you up." I chuckled.

"Just don't do anything stupid" She kissed me shortly, "I like the naked syrup idea. I think I'll look into that." Selena unwrapped herself and sauntered towards the bed but I caught her by the waist.

"I can't ever let you go." I said against her lips. Selena's fingers went into my hair, fisting like I was going to fly away.

All too soon, she pulled away.

"Go." Selena pushed me out of the room.

I dragged my feet down the steps and didn't even feel like moving into the hallway but I pushed myself out of the apartment, locking the door behind me.

I was in the Aston Martin five minutes later, driving through the chilly roads towards the docks.

Chicago was known as the Windy City for a reason and even in the car, I could hear the sounds of whipping wind around me. It was only nine at night so the temperature would drop more as the hours passed but I had grown up in this weather so I didn't mind.

I made it to our normal warehouse in no time and shut off the car, not wanting to get out.

For the first time in my life, I didn't care about all of this. Of course there was some tugging in the back of my head that was shouting 'kill, kill!' but I was able to suppress that as images of Selena began to take over. I wanted to go back home to her.

Go back home?

I shook my head to clear it and took off my jacket, folding it in the passenger's seat. I got out of the car and walked into the warehouse.

Jasper, Emmett and Alec were sitting in chairs, not really doing anything.

"I thought we had things to do?" I said frustrated at the fact that I had to roll out of bed for this.

"We thought you might want to finish him." Emmett pointed behind him at the man tied to another chair. He was breathing heavily, from his position and his body was almost completely blue; whether it was from the cold or the bruises, I didn't know.

"Who is he?" I asked, rolling up my sleeves.

"Some guy that Aro uses. He has some good info about you." Jasper raised his eyebrow.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that Aro knows about Selena. She's been the talk of their family dinners for quite some time now."

"Shit." I ran my hand through my hair.

"He sees her as your only weakness." Alec answered. I noticed the bloody knuckles that he was nursing.

"You have fun?" I nodded to him.

"It was…interesting." Alec shrugged.

"That kid's a beast." Emmett hit his shoulder, "He took the guy out with one blow. It was awesome."

"Who is this dude?" I asked and went over to the man who was cowering in his chair, dragging it to the middle of the room.

"His name is Daniel or something like that."

"It's David." The man growled.

"How long have you worked for Aro?" I knelt in front of him.

"Two years, not very long but I'm just a driver."

"What do they know about Selena?" I asked.

I knew that service people like drivers, maids and cooks had the best information because no one thought anything of them. That's why Carlisle had everything kept in the family. All of our servicemen were related by blood somehow and most of them couldn't even speak English, being brought over directly from Sicily.

"They know that she's yours." He replied heavily, "Aro was suspicious when James got beat up and then Vienna told him the rest of what he needed to know. He had nothing to do with that shit on Halloween but now he knows about her."

"And what is he thinking?"

"How should I know?" David tried to shift out of his seat but the ropes were too tight.

"Just answer me." I pulled out my Eagle for show. I didn't have the energy to care about this man.

"He wants to meet her. He wants to know what she's all about and he wants to see how deep you are with her." David rattled off.

"For what?" I nodded in thought, "He's honing in on me, isn't he?"

"Yeah"

"I don't know why." Jasper stood up, "Dad's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"Yeah but what if I was out of the way? It wouldn't be the same." I said.

"He's not going to kill her. He isn't that much of the devil." David lifted his head, "Aro just wants to know who Selena is and make sure she's not a threat."

"That sounds better than it actually is." Emmett sighed.

"Now that I gave you your information, can I go?"

"You're not going anywhere." I stood and pulled a rag out of my pocket, shoving it in David's mouth.

The deep smell of oil was penetrating as Jasper poured it over David's body that was now thrashing on the chair violently. He was screaming but his cries were muffled by the rag.

Alec, Emmett and Jasper stood by as I fired up my lighter and threw it on David's lap. His whole body was engulfed in a hot inferno within seconds. The scent of burning flesh was immediate and he was shouting so much that I could barely focus on my thoughts.

"I hate cleaning up after this." I shuddered as I watched a piece of David's skin literally melt off of his body.

"We'll have someone come over to clean up later." Emmett checked his watch, "Are we done here? Rose and I have plans."

"We're not done. We can't just leave him here." I said and played with my gun, twirling it around my finger.

"Let the kid handle it. I'm out." Jasper waved us goodbye as he left the warehouse.

"You'll be okay with Justin, right?" Emmett asked Alec.

"Yeah. Can I stay with you tonight?" He said towards me.

"That's fine." I answered.

"Alright then, peace." Emmett ruffled my hair and followed Jasper.

Alec and I stayed quiet for a couple of minutes as we watched David's body basically crumble into ashes. The good thing about death by fire was that it was painful and it took forever. Just because your skin was charred didn't mean your heart stopped beating.

At this point, the rag had fallen out of David's mouth and his chair was toppled over but his throat was so burned that he couldn't really speak. His body was shivering and jerking.

"You want to handle it?" I passed Alec my Eagle.

He took it from me and cocked the gun easily, pointing it towards David's head. He didn't pull the trigger but just held it. We stayed in our positions for a full minute.

"You can't think of him as a person." I instructed.

"But…he is."

"Why is he here?"

"Because he had information"

"Right, that was going to hurt our family." I knew I was twisting some things around but he needed to see things in unwavering terms. That was the only way to keep sane in this life. There was good and bad; that's it.

"He was trying to hurt Selena." Alec said to himself.

"Aro is trying to hurt Selena." I clarified so he didn't get confused, "David was just the middle man. We can't let him go or who will he run to?"

"Aro."

"You made your choice. The Bieber's don't leave survivors."

Alec pulled the trigger of the gun with power and his shoulder shifted from the force but he kept his arm strong. The bullet ripped through David's head, entering right under his nose and then out the back. I saw bone and brains as they splattered the floor behind him.

David's body stilled and a stream of blood flowed from the hole in his head.

Alec hadn't moved and his body was in the same position as it had been when he shot.

I went up to him and had to pry the gun from his grasp. His body was rigid but he fell back against me.

"Don't think of him as a person. He was a man who posed a threat to the family." I put the gun in my belt.

Alec let out a deep breath in a rush and I felt him shake.

"You did fine." I guided him out of the warehouse, locking the door behind me as I walked towards the car.

"Don't we have to clean up?" Alec muttered in a voice that I couldn't even hear.

"The lower boys come in every morning to wipe everything down." I patted his back, "Don't worry about it."

I opened the passenger's side door of my car for him and I actually had to set Alec in the seat because he was shaking so badly.

I quickly went to the driver's side and sped out of the parking lot.

The drive was completely silent, to the point of insanity. I remembered back to my first kill, the first time I drew fresh blood and it was hard to even think that far back. I was so young, a year younger than Alec but mentally, I was light-years ahead. In my brain back then, I was ready to kill and I was ready to join this life.

Was Alec?

I don't think I had ever asked him before but it was too late to bring it up now because the deed was done. The first kill was the most important and most memorable because it set the tone for your entire career in this business. As far as dramatics went, Alec had a very impressive slay.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, not really knowing what else to say.

"I'm good." He answered but I could tell he wasn't.

"What were you thinking?" I turned into the parking garage of my building.

"That I had to keep the family safe." He muttered like it was a mantra.

"That's not your job to do alone." I explained.

Alec looked at me with inquisitive eyes, "You love Selena, don't you?"

"I do." I nodded, admitting it to both of us in not so many words.

"Is that why you do what you do, to keep her safe?"

"Partly." I said, trying to figure out a way to explain it to him, "Selena is.…a wonderful addition to my horrible life. I enjoy what I do and I never thought that I would find someone like her but now that she's here, I can't not be with her. Does that make any sense?" I turned off the car.

"No."

"My family, our family, is what matters but…when you find someone that you're pulled to…in that way, your priorities seem to shift. Now, in my head, Selena and the family are on the same level." I rationalized to the both of us and things kind of clicked in my brain.

"Pulled to her? You mean sexually?" He was getting more and more confused.

"Uh…yes but not only that. You'll find someone you actually want to spend all of your time with."

I didn't know how else to explain it to a teenager because frankly, I was "made a man" before I could even get an erection so it was kind of strange for me to talk about this with Alec. I knew it wasn't necessarily a sex talk but it was heading that way.

"Just make sure that you stay focused and you'll find that things will fall into place."

"I never thought I'd ever get away from Albert. I was worried that if I became evil that I'd be punished like I was with him. Are you going to punish me?"

"For tonight?" I asked and he nodded, "No, that's what we do. To some people, it's bad but we have to stay on top. There are worse people out there than us."

He nodded, "I understand."

"Do you?"

"I think so. I should feel bad that I killed someone but…I can't. I just think what he would have done if he was still alive. He would tell on us."

"That's right."

To Alec, the world still held a certain level of childlike innocence. Just like with Selena, they didn't fully understand that things got very serious. They might have heard the stories and seen the pictures but unless you're in a situation when it's your life against another person's you'll never truly feel the threat of death. This world is very black and white. It's either you and your family or them; whoever them was.

Even though he said he was alright, I knew better. Alec was going to be a mess for awhile. We all were after our first time. I never actually showed my pain back then and even now but I still remember having nightmares for about a month. After that, I just accepted my life and it was over.

I helped Alec out of the car and into the elevator. We went up without a word passed between us.

"You can stay in one of the guestrooms." I pulled out my key and unlocked the door when we got to the penthouse. I knew perfectly well that he wouldn't be sleeping tonight.

We both walked in and I pulled off my coat. Alec did the same.

"Hang that up." I instructed him and he put it on a hook near the door.

I went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water for Alec and handed it to him.

I heard a pair of shuffling feet come down the hallway and Selena emerged looked tired, like she had just woken up.

"You're supposed to be in bed." I rested against the counter and she came to stand in front of me, her head on my chest.

"I was waiting up."

I kissed her hair and whispered, "We'll be having company tonight."

She turned around and Alec waved from the corner, "Hi."

Selena seemed to breathe some life into her body, "Oh, I didn't see you." And then she noticed his bloody knuckles, "What happened?" She went towards him.

"Nothing, I'm fine." He tried to put his hands in his pocket.

"No you're not." Selena yanked Alec's hands towards her so that she could inspect them, "I can't believe you, Justin."

"What did I do?" I asked innocently.

"You're supposed to be looking out for him." She scowled at me.

"I did."

"This is unacceptable." She brought Alec over to the sink and turned on the water, gently rubbing her fingers over his knuckles.

"I'm fine, really." Alec tried to pull back.

"You shut up." She snarled, "I wake up and I expect nothing but then you come home all bloodied up and smelling like ashes. Oh Lord, what else have you been doing tonight?" She turned to me.

I tried to restrain the laughter that was creeping up my throat but I couldn't help it. In her place, Selena's body was substituted with my mother, which was kind of scary. They had the same reactions every time one of us got hurt. It was rather comical.

"You think this is funny?" Selena asked, her lips in a tight line, "He's just a kid, Justin."

"He'll be fine. You can't baby him."

"I understand that but…" She huffed, "…you can shut up too." She continued to wash Alec's knuckles under the water.

"His wounds turn to battle scars after a while." I pulled a beer out of the fridge and popped the top.

"Do you have any salt?" Selena asked without looking at me.

"Above you." I said with a hint of amusement in my voice, "You planning on mixing a margarita?"

"No." She stood on her tip toes to open the cabinet that was stocked with spices, which I never used, "Salt will dry out the wounds and keep the fluid from coming back. They'll heal quicker."

"I thought that was an old wives' tale." I looked on with a raised eyebrow as she plugged up the sink and turned the water to hot so that it filled up.

She poured a handful of Kosher salt in the water that turned an occluded, gray color.

"Coming from a girl who basically lived her life in the hospital from tripping, I know how to heal." Selena took Alec's hands softly and placed them into the water, "This is going to hurt."

Alec hissed through his teeth as he submerged his knuckles in the sink, "Shit."

"No cursing." I said as an immediate reaction.

"Just let them sit for a couple of minutes." Selena wiped her hands off on a dish towel and then came back to me, "Anything I need to heal on you?"

"No, I'm all good." I wrapped my arms around her waist after setting my beer on the counter, "But I wouldn't mind a bath again like that one time." I whispered in her ear.

Alec made a fake gagging sound.

"Just focus on your knuckles." I growled and placed a kiss behind Selena's ear.

"Did he kill tonight?" She asked under her breath so that Alec couldn't hear.

"Yes." I answered.

"His first?"

"Yes."

I felt her head nod and she put her arms over my neck.

"I took care of him." I assured her.

"I know but I just feel bad that he won't be able to be a normal kid. He never will." Selena sighed.

"None of us were." I rested my forehead against hers.

We stayed that way for a long minute. I didn't know what to tell her that would make us seem any less horrible but on some level, I think Selena realized that we weren't ever going to be anything but monsters.

"I think I'm done." Alec took his hands out of the salted water.

Selena kissed me and left to hand him a cloth, "I'll wrap them up before you go to bed. Go take a shower."

He stood there for a second and looked like he was debating with himself before he just gave Selena a hug that swallowed up her small body.

"Thank you." He said and then ran out of the kitchen.

"Why can't you be more like him?" Selena drained the sink, "He's so sweet…"

"Blah, blah, blah. I'll give it maybe a year before I break him out of that."

"He could be like Jasper; all marshmallow. You're just so old and mean." Selena shuddered.

"Really?" I picked her up easily and threw her over my shoulder, "You don't seem to complain in my bed."

"That's because your piano fingers are the devil's play things." She hit my back, "Put me down."

"No, you're being punished." I slapped her ass and climbed the stairs.

"We have a child over, Justin. You better not be thinking dirty thoughts."

"I'm always thinking dirty thoughts." I replied truthfully.

I kicked open the door of my room and threw her on the bed, climbing up myself when she positioned herself.

"I should be checking on him." Selena ran her hands through my hair.

"He can put himself to bed. He's not a baby." I rolled my eyes.

She just tilted her head at me and I knew what she was asking.

I moved off her and plopped on the pillows, "He probably won't sleep tonight and if he does, he'll have to work through nightmares."

"Did you?" Selena rested her head on my shoulder.

"For about a month. I kept seeing all the blood and stuff."

"You're a good big brother."

I laughed, "I try."

"I'm serious." Selena said "He looks up to you."

"Really?" I knew Alec held some sort of admiration for me but I figured it was just because he wanted to learn the tricks of the trade.

"I think he sees Emmett and Jasper as best friends but you're his brother He told me the other day that he wants your approval."

"On what?"

"On…all of this. I can't imagine what kind of life he used to live but he's adjusting well. Does he remember anything about his old life?"

"No. We figured that he was around four when he was taken, probably from London or around there. Carlisle's been working hard to find something, anything." I said.

"It's hard to imagine a world without parents."

"How's Charlie?" I asked, trying to stay on subject and not think about the fragile body on top of mine.

"Fine. He keeps asking if I'm coming home for Thanksgiving. I told him not to bother with a ticket since I know he doesn't have the money."

"Would you like to go?"

"Not really and no, you're not buying me one."

"What about your mother, you want to go see her?"

"God, no" Selena groaned and sat up, "She would just ignore me the whole time I was there anyway."

"I highly doubt she'd do that." I folded my hands behind my head.

"She doesn't even notice it. She's not a bad mother, so to speak but when she gets fixed on something, it's hard to wing her off. She would try to cook dinner and I wouldn't see her for three days while she slaved away in the kitchen or something like that."

"She can't be that bad."

"Think Lucille Ball combined with Pam Anderson. She's the perfect mix of flightiness and has just enough common sense to make it in this world."

"I can't wait to meet her." I said sarcastically.

"I love her though." Selena sighed, "I'll go home to Forks for Christmas, that's only about a month and a half away. Charlie can deal until then."

"I don't want you to separate from him just because of me."

"No, it's not that but…I guess I'm scared to go home. He'll know something is up. At least over the phone, he can't see my lies."

"What have you told him about me?" I joked.

"Nothing. If I even hint at the fact that I have a boyfriend, he'd drive here."

"He sounds a lot like me if I had a daughter." I laughed.

"Have you ever thought about kids?" Selena crossed her legs under her and turned to me.

"I try not to. I know it's expected but I don't want them in the slightest. I hate kids."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't know why though. My parents love them so I thought I'd inherit their nature as I grew older but I still can't stand children. I wouldn't be a good father anyway."

"That's true." Selena giggled.

"Leave me alone." I raised up and kissed her shortly, "I'm going to go check on Alec."

She nodded, "I'll be here."

I scooted over the covers until I was out of bed and noticed that it was one in the morning. I knew that Selena had a class later in the afternoon so we could sleep in if we wanted.

I walked down the long hallway with rooms on each side. I could see light coming out from under the door of the one on the far left so I knocked at waited for a reply. There wasn't one.

I pushed the door open and found Alec sprawled out on his back with his chest rising and falling in sleep. He was in nothing but boxers and his hair was still wet from the shower.

I went to turn the light off but as soon as I did, his body jerked. He didn't wake up but I knew what it was. I left the light on and moved his body so that he wouldn't wake up sore in the morning.

I left the room, closing the door behind me and slid to the bottom of the floor, leaning my back against the wall. This was going to be my position for the rest of the night.

After ten minutes, when I didn't return back to bed, Selena came looking for me.

"What are you doing on the floor?" She asked.

"I'm going to stay here…just in case he wakes up."

"Oh." She shrugged and sat on the floor next to me, leaning against me.

"You can go back to bed." I kissed her.

"No, I'll stay with you."

We sat on the floor together and I could feel Selena falling asleep as the minutes turned into hours but she wouldn't leave me.

Sometime around five, Alec woke up with a scream that echoed off the walls.

"What the hell?" Selena's head snapped up, "We have to go see if he's alright." She started to move but I held her down.

"No, he has to work through this. He won't get over it if we wake him up."

"Justin, he could be hurting."

"He's just having a night terror." I held her firmer, "The first night is always the worse."

By the time the penthouse started to fill with morning light, Alec had been screaming for hours but I knew he wasn't truly awake. He was imagining different versions of his first true sin.

Selena wouldn't rest after Alec first started his yells so her eyes had dark bags under them but she said she was fine. As his voice reached us from under the door each time, Selena would shake like Alec's pain was hers but I had to keep her next to me. He wouldn't get any better if she coddled him.

I realized that I was being a hardass but my parents went through the same thing with me, with all of us. After my first kill, I found them sleeping in the hallway and my mother had tear tracks over her soft cheeks. I never understood why they just couldn't go to bed for that first month but now I did.

I feared for the kid and every time he shouted, I wanted to run in there and snap him awake but I knew I couldn't so I sat there.

"Is it over?" Selena asked, her voice thick with sleep and worry.

"He made it through the first night. He'll be fine." I picked us both up off of the floor.

I knocked on Alec's door and pushed it open. He was sitting up in bed stretching his tired muscles.

"How did you sleep?" I asked and went into the room.

"Okay, I guess." He shrugged. His eyes were deeply sunken and his face was pale. I knew Alec wouldn't remember his dreams though. Who would want to remember all of that?

"Do you want something to eat?" Selena poked her head around me.

"Not really." Alec answered.

We stood around awkwardly for a couple of seconds, not really knowing what to do.

"Get dressed and I'll take you home." I nodded to him and then closed the door.

After I dropped Selena off at her dorm, I took Alec home and just decided to stay there and find something constructive to do. The rest of the day, as much as I tried to concentrate, I couldn't really find anything that held my interest.

I had a talk with my father about what had happened the night before and he understood perfectly what I was feeling. He said that we all had to go through our growth period and this was Alec's.

I realized that over the past couple of months, my time hadn't really been spent wisely so I checked over money logs that were becoming foreign to me and made sure to catch up on everything so that I was in the know. I didn't want to appear like I was slacking because I knew Carlisle would take the first opportunity to point out my faults if I started slipping.

After I racked my brain with numbers for hours, I realized that I needed to get in contact with the police department.

Under the guise of "Michael Corleone", I made the call. I know it's cliché but who doesn't love The Godfather? I was put in contact with one of my father's many connections in the Organized Crime division. I had to get my facts straight about what was going on with Selena.

I talked without the fear of getting caught and it almost made me laugh at how easy it was to get information out of the police. They were so stupid that my number could come up on the grid and they wouldn't know what to do with it.

Of course, that was just wishful thinking so the talking was done in code. I never used anything related to the words 'Bieber', 'Jacob Black', or 'Selena Swan'. I had to be sure I was protected from all angles.

From my hour long conversation, I got that Jacob was trying to lure Selena away from me and in turn, into his arms with useful information. I got a guarantee that he was the one who had the CD sent over and Selena already told me about the Janice situation so I knew that's how he got it into her dorm without being noticed. He was banking on her getting scared and running away from us. Little did he know, Selena was stronger than that.

Black was waiting for something, anything because he was currently making a fool of himself over there. Of course he had pictures and "stories" but what he didn't have was hard evidence to incriminate any one of us. He was spending all of the Department's time and money on getting the Bieber's locked up. What he was failing to realize was that we were smart. Plus, the mayor and police commissioner were almost brothers with my father but that was beside the point.

"So does he have anyone working to get through our defenses?" I propped my feet up on my desk.

"Supposedly but no one knows. Only a couple people have that information." My informant concluded, "He's getting very suspicious these days."

"As he should be." I said, "Who should I be looking at?"

"I don't know but Dog No. 2's been kind of jittery so I know he's in on it all. He must know something." In our messed up world, Dog No. 2 was one of Blacks many close deputies, Embry Call.

"Try to snoop around a little. I need to know what he knows."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Get back to me as soon as possible and try to get him off Lily." I sighed. Lily was Selena. How I came up with that, I don't know but it fit.

"I will. I think the Brass is getting annoyed especially with the Department's dinner coming up. You know the holidays are the time for big donations and you guys are the biggest so anything that annoys you guys is off limits."

"That's reassuring." I said, "I have to go but keep me updated."

"Will do."

I hung up and leaned back in my chair, trying to think of a way to get Selena out of the crossfire that she was in. I never meant for the police to be on her tail but since she was associating with me, it was inevitable. What made it all worse was that Selena's father was a cop. All it would take was one phone call by Black to the police department out in Forks.

I knew Black would never do that though because his entire investigation would be up in smokes if Charlie even caught a whiff of who Selena was hanging out with. There would be an inter-county police brawl that would rival any other. Charlie would probably commandeer the entire state of Washington to come get her and that would create cracks in Black's whole 'get info out of Selena' plan.

A knock on the door, brought me out of my thoughts.

"Come in." I said and straightened up.

Alec poked his head in the room and shyly smiled, "Hi. Ma told me to come and get you for dinner. We're going out and she wants Selena there."

"Okay." I checked my watch and noticed that it was around that time.

"We're meeting at Aqua in about an hour."

I nodded, "You alright." I asked, packing up my stuff.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He hitched his shoulders, avoiding my eyes.

"Why won't you look at me?" I accused.

"Did you hear me last night?" He toed the edge of the carpet.

"Yes." I answered truthfully, "Are you ashamed?"

"I was trying to…keep quiet."

"That will only make it worse." I put on my coat, "Let it out in the first couple of nights and it'll get better."

I made it to the door and my hand was on the knob. I figured I should say something brotherly here or at least give him…a hug, but that wasn't me.

"Can I stay with you tonight?" Alec asked with a hint of trepidation before I could open the door.

"Sure." I said without turning around and felt that that was brotherly enough.

I made a call to Selena as I drove into the city from my parents' house and told her about dinner plans. She cursed me for not mentioning it to her sooner and grumbled over the phone about not having anything to wear. I had to hold in my laughter at how nervous she still got around Carlisle and Esme, not because they were a part of the mafia, but because they were my parents.

I pulled up in front of Selena's dorm and just waited in the car because I knew if I went up, we wouldn't make it to dinner because my sexual appetite was outfighting everything else. I just kept my mind free of sexual thought and plugged in my iPod, turning to Krzysztof Penderecki's Symphony #3: Passacaglia - Allegro Moderato.

Some might call me dark and they would be right if they based their assumption from my classical music selections. Penderecki's piece was modern, written in 1988, but it could have been from the medial ages with its deep timpani and string melodies that would be more appropriate for a funeral. The dramatic crescendos just lifted the body to the point of otherworldliness and I shut my eyes, trying to soak up all the haunting sounds that I could. It relaxed me.

I don't know how long I sat there but a tap on the window brought me out of my dark thoughts.

I blinked to readjust my eyes and saw Selena waving to get in.

I chuckled and unlocked the door. She slid into the seat and shook off the cold.

"You left me out there long enough." She leaned over for a kiss that I gave her.

"Sorry, I was trapped in a world of classical music." I got into traffic and headed in the right direction.

"What the hell are you listening to?" Selena turned on my iPod to check the musical selection, "This sounds deadly."

"I know. Isn't it great?"

"Sometimes, I worry about you and your mental state. It's obvious that you're not all there but I never thought I would have to worry about what you were listening to."

"It's not that bad. They use it a lot in movies for soundtracks."

"Still, this is kind of morbid stuff." Selena scrolled through what I had and turned up the volume when she arrived at Led Zeppelin's Stairway to Heaven.

"Oh Selena, must we listen to this song every time we get into the car?"

"Yes because it's your new anthem. I've decided that you can't be all that bad under there."

"Really?" I decided to amuse her.

"Yes, really. You have to be somewhat of a good person. I'm your woman who's buying you a stairway to heaven."

"I'm pretty sure we could find a better song that fits our predicament."

"Well if you need a good word at the pearly gates, don't come crying to me." She shrugged in all seriousness.

"I'm not debating religious politics with you."

"Good because I'd win." Selena laughed.

We continued to listen to Zepplin and by the time the song was over, I was pulling into the parking lot of Aqua.

"Let me guess, another one of Jasper's fine establishments?" Selena got out of the car when I turned it off.

"Sure is. This is the best in my opinion." I locked the car, wrapped an arm around her waist as I led her inside.

Aqua was voted one of the best seafood restaurants in the city by The Chicago Tribune and you couldn't even get a table unless you were planning on spending upwards of five hundred dollars.

The whole interior was done in dark blues and whites that contrasted each other but it was very modern. The main attraction of Aqua was the massive fish tanks that covered the walls, spiraled up to the ceiling and were inlaid into the floor. They held huge lobster, colorful exotic fish, expensive crustaceans and that was just the beginning.

I helped Selena up to the second floor of the restaurant that was open so that everyone could basically see everyone else. There were private rooms in the back but Esme liked to be where she could talk to her friends if they stopped by so we always made it a point to be sociable when the entire family ate out.

We arrived at the massive table up top where Esme, Carlisle, Jasper, Alice, Emmett, Rose, and Alec were sitting. Everyone was talking animatedly about something or other and barely saw us arrive.

"Oh, finally. I haven't seen you in days." Esme got up and pushed me out of the way, heading straight for Selena.

"It's good to see you too Esme." Selena hugged her like they were sorority sisters and then went to go say hi to my father who was beckoning her over.

"Great welcome, Ma." I hugged her.

"I see you too much." She fixed the collar of my shirt, "I don't know why you insist on wearing this shirt. It doesn't look right."

"I think it looks fine." I gently pushed her off.

"Well it doesn't. Buy some new clothes." She went to go sit back down.

"I see I'm not even loved here anymore." I joked and pulled out a chair for Selena.

"Shut up. You're not the favorite anymore." Emmett thundered from down the table, "Now it's Selena and Alec."

"I'll have to fight my way back up to the top of the list." I sat down and unbuttoned my jacket, relaxing into my chair. I threw an arm over Selena's seat.

Everyone talked loudly, not really caring that we might be disturbing other patrons but there weren't that many people on the second floor. It was the height of the dinner hour but the bar downstairs was filled with stressed bankers or overworked lawyers.

A couple of waiters had the horrible task of taking our orders, which was no small duty considering that they had nine picky diners six of whom were full blown Italians.

"I want some wine." Selena whispered to me.

"No." I whispered back, only half joking.

"But it's been a long day and I had two tests and…"

"…and you're underage."

"Oh come on, Eddie." Jasper leaned across the table, "Let her get a little loose."

"I'm not going to get drunk, Jasper." Selena corrected him, "I just want a couple of sips."

"This is sooooo good." Alice dramatically swirled some red wine in her glass, "What's this called Rose?" She called down the table.

"Cabernet sauvignon; pressed from the finest Chilean grapes."

"This is just not fair." Selena sat back in her chair.

"One sip" I handed her my glass. I was pathetically horrible at refusing Selena anything whether it be money, which she never asked for or even a simple glass of alcohol.

She took her gulp and handed it back to me, "Thank you." She leaned over and our lips meshed together with wine filled tastes that were making me pass out from the flavors.

"Wahoooooo!" Emmett shouted, "Get her good."

I heard a slap and a couple of grumbles but when I pulled back, all was well.

"You're getting me in trouble." I whispered against Selena's lips.

"Sorry." She laughed.

Appetizers of crab cakes and grilled vegetables were passed around the table.

We all talked about our days, making sure to keep away from family business because we never knew who was listening at the next table but Esme wouldn't allow it anyway. She tried to keep those two lives separate.

About an hour into our meal, I noticed that my father was becoming oddly unobservant to our conversations and kept looking over the banister to the first floor.

"Dad, you alright?" I asked.

"We might have some company." He answered and nodded his head to the side, motioning me to take a look.

I peeked over the ledge of the metal balcony, "Shit."

"Justin, language." Esme scolded.

"Sorry." I moved back into position.

"What is it?" Jasper chomped on a piece of lobster.

"The Volturi's are here." I put my fork down, not wanting to eat anymore.

"All of them?" Emmett groaned moving his head to see, "Minus two. I can't believe that Vienna bitch has the nerve to show her face. At least Heidi isn't here. She's a piece of work, right Justin?"

"Shut up." I growled, not wanting to get into my past sexual adventures with Selena sitting right next to me.

"Oh, Athenadora didn't come? I needed to ask for her peach crumble recipe." Esme moped.

"Ma, you can't talk recipes with the enemy." Jasper rolled his eyes.

"She's not my enemy."

"This is just great." I said.

"At least we're in public so she won't try to kidnap me again." Selena took a sip of her water.

I held her free hand under the table, "I told you that you don't have to worry about your safety with me. I won't let anyone take you again." I whispered.

She nodded and gave a fake, half smile.

"Just don't even look at them." Carlisle fixed his tie, "I'm in no mood to deal with Aro right now."

"Good." I went back to eating.

Another hour passed and thankfully, we were able to keep things easy between everyone. Through all of this, I didn't let the Volturi's out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to make sure that I saw them leave and I wasn't putting Selena in the line of fire again.

As I worked on a piece of chocolate cake that Selena and I were sharing, I lifted my head for a quick second to see Felix's almost black eyes. A grin was plastered on his thin lips.

"Shit, shit, shit." I ran a hand through my hair.

"Good Lord, what is with the cursing?" Esme asked.

"Nothing." I sighed and leaned back in my chair, preparing to probably have a showdown.

I saw Felix lean over to speak with Aro who raised his head to our table. He clapped his hands together and they all got up from their seats.

"Not a word." Carlisle pointed to everyone at the table but especially me, "I'll do all the talking."

Aro, Vienna, Felix and Demetri climbed the stairs slowly. It was almost as if their bodies were floating over the steps. Vienna had a scowl on her face that looked like a bulldog; Aro's ancient self was pasty and fragile as usual. Demetri was trying to pump himself up mentally and I don't think Felix was all the way there. He seemed a few marbles short of a full basket.

Thankfully, the upstairs dining area had been cleared per Jasper's orders an hour earlier so that we could have some privacy when Emmett decided to drink more wine. It was never a good idea to have him around people while drinking. This left the entire second floor left free of patrons.

"Carlisle, what a pleasant surprise." Aro spoke over the chatter of the dining room below us with outstretched arms.

"Aro, always a pleasure." My father stood to greet him.

"How long has it been? At least a couple of months. You said you would call more." Aro, always the over classy creep, said lovingly.

"Real life just got in the way." Carlisle said.

Head nods from all of us were given, without actually saying anything. Esme was of course going off at the mouth, asking how Athenadora was doing. It was just a little too buddy-buddy for me so I sat back and shut up.

"And who do we have here?" Aro asked, noticing Alec at the end of the table.

"A new family member" My father answered, "Alec."

Alec stood up and shook Aro's hand firmly, "It's nice to meet you."

"You as well." Aro eyed him up and down, obviously trying to figure out where he came from, "And you must be the magnificent Selena who I've heard so much about." He turned towards us.

"Yes sir, I guess I am." Selena said and made a move to shake his hand but I wouldn't let her.

"It's so nice to meet you." Aro spoke chillily.

She just nodded.

"You're just as beautiful as they've all said." His eyes shifted to mine, "She's splendid, Justin."

"I know." I replied shortly.

"Well I actually came up because Vienna has some things to say." Aro retracted his hand and pushed his niece forward.

"Yes, there have been some unfortunate events lately." Carlisle put it nicely. In actuality, he was just as furious as I was about Vienna's stupid behavior.

"All in a little fun." Felix had the nerve to laugh.

My fists bunched in my lap to the point of pain. They only eased when Selena slipped her hand into mine, squeezing it lightly.

Vienna pouted and huffed, "I'm sorry I had my bodyguard try to kidnap you." She said like a child who stole a bike, "I didn't mean to."

"I'm not sorry I killed the fucker. I should have strung him up by his legs and let him bleed to death." I snarled and couldn't stop the words out of my mouth.

Selena hit my knee but I wouldn't take back my sentence for anything.

"It was just a joke." Vienna crossed her arms, "You didn't have to kill him."

"A joke?" My voice rose slightly, "He took her from underneath my nose."

"Well then maybe it was your fault." Demetri grinned.

"Fuck you." Jasper said from down the table.

"Boys, please." Aro said, only half-heartedly.

"Thank you for the apology." Selena spoke up.

I looked at her like she was crazy.

"Well you heard her. It was just a joke." Selena gave me the eye as to say 'don't start something over nothing'.

I sat back in my chair with a frown.

"That was very nice to apologize." Aro patted his niece on the back, only further pampering her psychotic notions.

"So I guess it's true then." Felix said to me, his dark eyes trying to borough through my forehead.

"What." I snapped.

"You've found someone worth it." He looked between me and Selena, "I never thought I'd see the day when Justin went soft."

"I'm not soft. I can blow your fucking head off right now if you want." I sat up straighter.

"Please." He knocked off my threat.

"I can see that this isn't going to be a nice meeting." Carlisle wrapped things up, "It was nice to see you all." He spoke to Aro.

"You as well." Aro nodded and ushered everyone away from our table.

Maybe I was just honing in on his voice or maybe I had vampire hearing but as Felix was walking off, I heard him whisper to his brother, "I bet she has a sweet cunt."

I was up from the table, had him by the collar of his shirt and pushed against the wall near the table before anyone could even blink.

"What the hell did you just say?" I got in his face and had the barrel of my gun pointed at his stomach.

Felix had the audacity to snicker in my face, "I knew I would get a reaction out of you."

"I have the mind to rip your spine from your body." I pushed the gun further into his abdomen that he was trying to tighten.

"You don't have the heart to taint your image in front of the babe." His eyes went to Selena.

"I've killed before in front of her and if you don't want your blood on these walls, I would shut your mouth."

"I saw the bodyguards downstairs, they coming up here to help?"

"I don't need their help. If I ever see you even look at Selena again, I will take a drill to your forehead, do I make myself clear?"

"No need for violence." He smirked, "I'm just trying to have some fun with the sweet…cunt." Felix spoke softly and slowly.

I slammed him against the wall harder and had my forearm against his meaty throat.

I was so enraged that I couldn't even think. The only thing that was keeping me from blowing Felix's head off was the fact that I could smell Selena's perfume from behind me, keeping my mind clear from fire.

I heard a pistol cock at my head and saw Demetri to my left.

There was a lot of movement as Emmett, Jasper and Alec all pulled guns out of nowhere and we all created a pentagram with outstretched arms.

"If I ever hear you speak about her like that again, I will kill you." I spoke so deadly that even I was scared.

Felix winced as I pushed the pistol into the gap between ribs. He didn't say anything but I could see the fear in his eyes. Truthfully, I was surprised that I hadn't killed him by now.

I backed up but kept my arm outstretched.

I heard Carlisle heave a heavy sigh behind me, "Gentleman, please. There are ladies present."

"Well then maybe it's time to clear out." Emmett said, his drunken nature totally hidden behind the beast.

"This is not a way to behave in public." Aro came to stand between my gun and his son who kept growling at me like an animal.

"You should teach your son some manners." I replied.

"I would watch who you're speaking to, Justin." He cocked an eyebrow, "You won't always have your family around to help you out."

"Yes he will, Aro." My father was still speaking calmly, "I would like it if you could please leave my family alone. First the kidnapping and now your son's very rude remarks. I would hate to have to take action."

"Is that a threat, Carlisle?"

"I don't make empty promises; you of all people should know that."

Even though my back was turned, I could feel the heat pouring out of Carlisle's eyes as he glared. I bet his face was wrinkle free and his hands were probably clasped behind his back.

"Have a wonderful rest of your night." Aro nodded to all of us and started walking back down the steps. Vienna followed and then Demetri but Felix didn't move.

"Your master is leaving." I said, "You might want to hitch a ride to his ass."

"You know Demetri is the golden child of the family." Emmett chuckled, "Aro wouldn't waste his time with this piece of shit."

"You better watch yourself." Felix took a step forward and the first one to react was Alec who cocked his gun in a second.

"Move another inch and I'll put a bullet through your skull." The kid spoke with such authority and power that was identical to my tone. It scared the hell out of me because if I didn't know any better, I would have thought that I was listening to a fourteen-year old Justin.

"You're just a fucking child. Don't flatter yourself." Felix squinted.

Carlisle sighed again, "We don't really have time for this. Felix, would you like to take this out back so we can end this like real men or would you like to live a couple more years? I'm fine either way."

Felix's lip twitched and he shifted his eyes between all of us before giving up, stomping back down the stairs.

Emmett and Jasper retracted their gun arms but I was still too pissed to move.

I felt a small hand on my back, "Justin." Selena whispered.

I blinked and came back to reality, the fire within me vanishing within seconds.

"Put it down, Justin." She pushed my arm to my side, standing in front of me, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah" I said in a small voice.

"You're purple." She held my face in her hands, "You can't let him get to you."

"I can't help it."

"That's what he wanted, a reaction."

"I know." I combed through my hair and put my gun back in my belt, "Are you alright?" I hugged her.

"I'm fine." She rested her head on my chest and he body was shaking slightly, "That was scary though. I thought you were going to get in trouble."

"That was only the tip of the iceberg with Felix." I sighed, knowing that it wouldn't be the last I heard of him.

"You can't act like that with everyone who makes a rude remark or comment."

"Like hell I can't. He had no right to speak to you like that."

I heard talking from everyone behind me but Selena and I were in our own little world.

"You're going to give yourself a heart attack trying to protect me all of the time."

"I'm willing to risk my health for you." I said truthfully. Similar to last night's gesture, I completely removed my jacket this time and put it over Selena's shoulders.

"Justin, you have to calm down. He is going to be worse now that he knows you reacted that way."

"I'll blow his fucking head off." I growled, not meaning to but just thinking of the things he said about Selena was making me furious again.

She must have been able to sense it, "Just breathe. You're turning purple again."

I took deep heaves to gain oxygen, "I can't believe he had the nerve to call you that."

"It's no big deal."

"It is a big deal. No one should be talking about you that way. Just wait until I see him again…" I let my sentence trail off thinking about how this situation would be different if we had all been in seclusion. I would probably be washing my hands of his blood right now.

Selena pulled me back to our seats and everyone was tense.

"Well, I won't be inviting them for more dinners." Esme nodded authoritatively and took a sip of wine.

I had to laugh at the absurdity that was my life and they all looked at me like I was insane.

"Are you alright?" Selena asked.

"Yeah." I breathed.

Carlisle shook his head, "This is why I don't make friends. They all end up dead or on a wish list for death." He took a bite of crab.

"I love family dinners. Aren't they just fun?" Rose said sarcastically.

"To family." Jasper raised his glass and we all followed.

"To family."

[henseonos-blog]

Stormborn: Chapter I.

A/N: I'm afraid I've been thinking lately—a dangerous pastime, I know—but I had an idea that I just can't get out of my head. Behold the first chapter of that idea. You might be thinking that this sounds exactly like the beginning of the Season 7 / Episode 2 "Stormborn" of Game of Thrones, and you'd be right. Things will change as the idea develops. By you clicking on this story, you've consented to read a rated "M" fic that will inevitably contain F/F. Oh, and you're also agreeing to be cool with spoilers for Game of Thrones if you haven't already seen it. As a final note, it'd be really awesome if you kept any hate to yourself and only offered praise for what you like and constructive criticism for what you don't.

Disclaimer: I am not in any way associated with George R. R. Martin, HBO, etc. The characters and storylines found within this fic belong to their creator, and no copyright infringement is intended.

It began as any tale of war and love and woe might, on a thunderous night where the gods hailed their fury down upon the world. Dragonstone sat atop its ancient seat in the earth, besieged by the elements on all sides. Waves that might swallow a man grown, would that they could, crashed against its sandy shores. A wicked wind kicked up a thick mist as it howled over the groaning sea. Torrential rains pelted the very stones of the keep, making their own mark upon centuries of erosion. The sky was alight with blue fire, but it mattered little. Come what may, the seat of House Targaryen would yet stand upon the morrow.

"On a night like this, you came into the world," Tyrion Lannister recalled, sliding his hands over the weathered stone of the table before him. Across its surface sat all the great houses in their seven kingdoms. A speared sun, the sigil of House Martell, shone proudly from the south, and the lions of Lannister growled menacingly in the east. Other figurines sat scattered across the board like pockmarks, but his eyes lingered for just a moment too long upon the three golden beasts.

"I remember that storm," came another soft voice—Lord Varys, the Spider and once-Master of Whisperers. He, too, stood with his soft, powdered hands stretched out across the realm, facing the balcony where the rain pushed a cold breeze into the room. "All the dogs in King's Landing howled through the night."

"I wish I could remember it," spoke the woman there, outlined against the night as the darkness turned her rounded edges hard. Daenerys Targaryen turned then to face them, loose ringlets of silver hair shining in the candlelight about her shoulders. "I always thought this would be a homecoming." Her footsteps echoed around the war room of her ancestral home, bouncing from one stone to another. "Doesn't feel like home…" She came to rest before the great table, eyes downcast to gaze upon the Seven Kingdoms—hers by birthright.

"We won't stay on Dragonstone for long," Tyrion promised, his expression as sympathetic as his words were encouraging.

"Good."

It was a curt reply, to be sure, and spoken in the harsh tone of an impatient ruler in place of a forlorn friend, but what more could he expect? To be so close to victory and, yet, so far… Well, he could only imagine. It was only a moment after his lips had pursed into a hard, thin line that he turned from her and lifted his goblet. A hearty sip of the finest Dornish wine seemed to serve as a far better response than anything he had left to offer.

Daenerys watched his retreating form from the farthest corner of her vision. "Not so many lions," she commented, turning her attention back to the tabletop. Her hands moved to its surface, drawn by the unspoken promise of supremacy it offered.

"Cersei controls fewer than half the Seven Kingdoms. The lords of Westeros despise her." Varys spoke with the confidence not of a eunuch but of a man in greater power and title than he held. His plump fingers dug into the rough stone across from her, but he met the gaze of his queen as evenly as he dared. "Even before your arrival, they plotted against her. Now—"

A sculpted brow quirked in response, but her expression otherwise remained neutral. "They cry out for their true queen?" A mocking lilt entered her tone. "They drink secret toasts to my health?" She withdrew her hands from the map and wrung them before her. "People used to tell my brother that sort of thing, and he was stupid enough to believe them." Her pace was slow as she rounded the table, inching ever closer to the Spider.

It was in seeming disinterest that she lifted her own sigil off the board and inspected the figurine, a dragon with its wings stretched in flight. "If Viserys had three dragons and an army at his back, he'd have invaded King's Landing already."

Tyrion's eyes narrowed upon his queen, watching her as she studied her mark upon the map. "Conquering Westeros would be easy for you, but you're not here to be queen of the ashes," spoke the dwarf, his hands then clasped firmly behind his back. It was a reminder, gentle but firm. Sacking the capitol with three dragons grown and an army of foreigners would only serve to distance her further from the throne she sought and the loyalty that came with it.

At this, she looked up from the carved figure before putting it back in its rightful place and squaring her jaw. "No."

"We can take the Seven Kingdoms without turning it into a slaughterhouse." Of this, Tyrion was sure. Daenerys possessed the qualities of a true queen, one that the people of the realm deserved and would support, but he could not be sure if patience sat among them. "If the great houses support your claim against Cersei, the game is won."

Her hands resumed their wringing.

"With the Tyrell army and the Dornish on our side, we have powerful allies in the south."

As if a memory long forgotten had been sparked by his words, the queen's eyes snapped up from the table, and she turned to face Varys fully. "I never properly thanked you for that."

Taken aback, the eunuch was silent for a moment before withdrawing his hands from the great table and responding. "They joined our side, My Queen, because they believe in you." His words were cool and measured, but a flicker of worry flashed across his features like the sky's blue fire across the horizon.

"You served my father, didn't you, Lord Varys?"

There was yet another pause before he answered. "I did."

"—and then you served the man who overthrew him."

She now had the full attention of everyone in the room. Even Tyrion had sense enough to look worried, his wine long forgotten as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tracked her movement. A dwarf he might be, but blind he was not. Even a fool could guess his queen's intentions, and what might happen next, but an unwitting spider? He would send a silent prayer up for the man to any god that might be willing to listen.

"I had a choice, Your Grace: serve Robert Baratheon or face the headman's axe."

"—but you didn't serve him long." Her eyes remained cold, but a small, knowing smile pulled at the corners of her lips. She had him beneath the heel of her boot. "You turned against him."

Again, taken aback, Varys let out a quiet hiss of air. Spittle dotted his lower lips and his heart thumped painfully in his chest, but still he met her gaze. "Robert was an improvement on your father, to be sure. There have been few rulers in history as cruel as the Mad King." If he had struck a nerve, her countenance did not betray it, nor did it waver from the smirk she wore. "Robert was neither mad nor cruel. He simply had no interest in being king."

He hadn't even had the time to draw a breath before she spoke once more.

"So, you took it upon yourself to find a better one."

The accusation hung in the air for a long moment before Tyrion thought to interject. "Your Grace…" he began, eyes lowered to one jewel or another fixed to the dark material of her garment. When she turned to him, arms crossed at the wrist over her navel almost expectantly, he found that he could not meet her gaze as the Spider had. "When I was ready to drink myself into a small coffin, Lord Varys told me about a queen in the east who—"

"Before I came to power, you favored my brother." She rounded back on the eunuch like a hound after its bone, fury boiling beneath the surface of her skin now. She had no interest in hearing the rest of her advisor's tale, lest it end in her wrath turned upon those who did not yet deserve it. "All your spies, your little birds, did they tell you Viserys was cruel, stupid, and weak?" She watched as his eyes dipped down, breaking from her unspoken challenge. "Would those qualities have made for a good king in your learned opinion?"

The Spider seized the opportunity to speak, his brows furrowed and skin creased in a strange mixture of concern and indignation. "Until your marriage to Khal Drogo, Your Grace, I knew nothing about you, save your existence and that you were said to be beautiful."

Daenerys lifted her chin, refusing to relent under the charm of his sweet, panicked words. She had never been fond of flattery. "So, you and your friends traded me like a prized horse to the Dothraki."

"—which you turned to your advantage."

If he had thought that the repetition of what was known would break her, he had judged her poorly. She would not be deterred. Still, the question burned in her throat like the flames of her dragons. It begged to be released into the space between them, to do whatever damage it may. "Who gave the order to kill me?"

Tyrion's eyes darted from his queen to the eunuch and back again. There was a small part of him that trusted Varys, for the things he had done. That part of him yearned to put an end to this mummer's farce. However, there was a far greater part of him that still distrusted the Spider, even more so for the things he had done, and that part of him longed to see the queen get the answers she sought.

"King Robert," Varys answered, having the good sense to look at least nearly ashamed.

Like a prowling lion of Lannister stalking its prey, she moved closer to him. "Who hired the assassins?" Closer, still, she came. "Who sent word to Essos to murder Daenerys Targaryen?"

"Your Grace…" he interrupted, nodding his bald head in equal parts fear and respect. "I did what had to be done to—"

"—to keep yourself alive."

Once more, Tyrion found his voice. For the moment, it seemed as if the soft spot he held for the Spider, his personal savior, had won out. "Lord Varys has proven himself a loyal servant." As he drew breath to continue on in the other's defense, the queen then rounded on him.

"Proven himself loyal?" she snapped, her glare as sharp as dragonglass as it bore into him. "Quite the opposite." She fixed him under her gaze for only a moment longer, almost as if daring him to again speak out against her, before turning back to her prey. "If he dislikes one monarch, he conspires to crown the next one. What kind of a servant is that?"

Though he held no love for or any likeness to dragons, her words sparked a fire in the Spider's belly. "The kind the realm needs." His words were as firm as he dared, his eyes now narrowed into a glare of his own. His anger, like hers, boiled just beneath the surface, but a cold sweat still prickled across his powdered skin as he spoke. "Incompetence should not be rewarded with blind loyalty. As long as I have my eyes, I'll use them."

Daenerys stood still as the stone beneath her feet, studying him as if he was the most curious wonder she had seen in all her years. Blank was her expression, but her silence was permission for him to continue.

"I wasn't born into a great house. I came from nothing. I was sold as a slave and carved up as an offering." He did not break their gaze a second time, as he had found his courage. Eunuchs had often been compared to cravens, some even saying that they belonged to two sides of the same coin or that they had been cut from the same cloth, but none would have dared in that moment. For in that moment, he looked into the eyes of the dragon queen unflinchingly.

"When I was a child, I lived in alleys, gutters, abandoned houses. You wish to know where my true loyalties lie? Not with any king or queen, but with the people. The people who suffer under despots and prosper under just rule. The people whose hearts you aim to win.

"If you demand blind allegiance, I respect your wishes. Grey Worm can behead me, or your dragons can devour me, but if you let me live, I will serve you well. I will dedicate myself to seeing you on the Iron Throne because I choose you—because I know the people have no better chance than you."

A long pause stretched between them, filling the room with silence and a thick, cloying tension. In that moment, the sound of whipping winds and unrelenting rainfall served as her response to him. Then she broke the silence.

"Swear this to me, Varys." Her head canted ever-so-slightly to the side as she continued to study him, deciding his fate. "If you ever think I'm failing the people, you won't conspire behind my back. You'll look me in the eye as you have done today, and you'll tell me how I'm failing them."

Concern still creased his brow, but he gave a small nod of acquiescence regardless. "I swear it, My Queen," he offered, remembering then to bow his head in the respect one should offer their ruler, earned or otherwise. In the farthest corner of his vision, he saw Tyrion release the breath he had been holding and nod his approval.

Their collective relief was short-lived, however, as the queen once more resumed her prowling. Soon they stood breast-to-breast, her mask of cool wrath still fixed firmly in its place. "—and I swear this: if you ever betray me, I'll burn you alive."

The sunken apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed and his bowels finally unclenched. He offered her a polite smile and another dip of his head. Beneath his fine velvet smock, his shoulders lifted about his ears as he shrugged. "I would expect nothing less from the Mother of Dragons."

For the first time since she had begun her assault, she relented and released the Spider from beneath her heel. He had won her respect for the moment, and she showed him as much with the small, genuine smile that curved her pink lips. This battle was over, and neither had lost. He had won his life and she his promise of loyalty—for whatever that was worth.

"Forgive me, My Queen," came a fourth voice, one she had almost forgotten was present. Grey Worm stepped forward from the far corner of the room, posture as tight and stern as befitted the captain of the Unsullied. "A red priestess from Asshai has come to see you."

[3one3]

The Sequel - 792

Borussia Dormant

André Schürrle, Juan Mata, other Chelsea/BVB players, and random awesome OC’s

(okay they’re less random now but they’re still pretty awesome)

original epic tale

all chapters of The Sequel

“I’m actually just hanging out with Socks. Isa didn’t put him back out with the others when I was finished with him because he was wet. Well, I should say, he didn’t put him back out when he was done giving him a full bath, which he needed because I did so much with him that he was really, really sweaty. Anyway, we’re hanging out. He gives good kisses.”

“I saw your video earlier. Was that a new horse?”

“It was Cornflakes! He’s totally wasted on Yannis.”

André slumped with relief in his car seat while Christina laughed on the other end of the phone. She posted a clip on Instagram of a chestnut jumping through a 6-jump gymnastic from about 2’6” up to 4’6”, and it was quite a feisty looking animal under her. It never occurred to the player that Yannis’ pony could jump that high or behave just like his bigger, hotter stablemates. He was worried that she was looking at another new horse. The problem with having a new barn to move into with 18 stalls was the threat that Christina would find a way to fill them all. More horses meant less time for him and less time for herself, by André’s logic. He was about to call Peter to verify that his crew was finished removing all the surface footing from the ring, or that they’d be finished with it the next day, Friday. OTTO Sport was sending someone over Friday to survey and order everything needed to get started installing their product on Monday.

“How come you were jumping Cornflakes?” he inquired of his wife, who ignored his silence in favor of talking to Socks. The Dutch stallion was trying to figure out where the molasses cookie was hiding. He knew she had one. He could smell it. It kept moving from different hands to different pockets. Christina was in his stall with him. Her 11-stall barn was relatively quiet but for the music on the stereo. It was drizzly out, but not enough to keep the horses in. She was already done riding for the day, Stefanie rode her pair earlier too, the Hazards weren’t coming, and Kyle was off. Isandro was loading up the ATV bed with bales of hay to bring over from storage to start readying the horses’ stalls for the night. They would have hay and full water buckets waiting for them in their freshly bedded stalls, but wouldn’t get their dinner until later, after grooming and feet picking. Christina was dragging her feet about leaving the barn for the day because she didn’t feel like showering and getting pretty to go to the auction exhibition with Juan. She still really wanted to go, but wished she could skip the part about getting clean and presentable first. Also Socks kept making faces at her through her office window while she was finishing up emails at her desk. To her they were “come pay attention to me” faces.

“Because it’s fun to play with ponies, and it’s something different to do, and the kids can’t ride today, and the gymnastic was already set up for Jelly Bean, Nick, and Socks. How was training?”

“It was good.” Man am I glad to hear her say she’s trying to have fun at the barn, André quickly added to himself. The rest of his wife’s visit in Dortmund was more tame than that argument they got into Tuesday morning, but it wasn’t as restorative as he’d hoped, and it was far from encouraging. Christina never shrugged off her weekend and footing induced stress. “I’m about to leave to go home and get Mama and Mausi. We’re going to the bookstore for another one of those story time things with lots of kids. I don’t know if he understands enough German to understand the story, but he likes to play with the kids after. They have a lot of toys for them, and crayons and stuff.”

“I am quite positive he doesn’t understand enough German to understand the story,” Lukas’ mom laughed. “That sounds fun though. I’m glad you find ways to get him to do stuff with other kids, because I constantly worry that he’s not getting socialized enough. I keep feeling like a bad mom because I don’t have a big network of other moms with kids for him to play with.”

“You will here, pretty girl. All my teammates have young kids. That’s one of the perks of moving from a squad with a lot of veterans to one with a lot of young players, I guess,” André suggested. “You’re going to the auction thing tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m about to go get ready. We’re going early so we can get dinner after. Want me to send you pictures of awkward erotic art?”

“I definitely want the other parents at children’s story hour to see me looking at erotic art on my phone.”

“Oh good point,” Christina laughed. She shook the molasses treat out of the sleeve of her fleece jacket and held it out for Socks, who had just about given up trying to find it. He really thought it was in her left hand, but she kept showing him that it was empty. He didn’t know it could be hidden inside her sleeve. His cute black head nodded up and down while he chewed the Oreo-sized cookie.

“Are you going home after dinner?” The footballer’s question was colored with just the whisper of unease.

“I plan to. Tomorrow is my day off from life. I pre-made my own pizza this morning so that I can spend the least amount of time possible out of bed. Don’t call me first thing in the morning with Lukas because I will not be a happy camper. Don’t even try to talk to me until after noon, at least,” his girl warned with stern seriousness. Her voice then changed completely. “Byyyye, pony. See you Saturday. Enjoy your day off outside,” she lovingly told Socks after giving him a kiss in the middle of his long face stripe. That shift in her tone made André smile to himself while he steered out of Brackel. That was the trademark sound, sort of, of the girl he fell so hard for. Her passion and her love for her equine friends and partners caught him off guard that day in Florida, just like her concern for his problem and her genuine hope to help him solve it. Those things were similar to her love for Lukas that he admired so much, but also very different in some ways. Christina didn’t have a passion for motherhood. She had a deep sense of obligation to do it as best she could, whether that was making her baby food from whole organic foods and making sure Lukas got all the recommended toys for developmental learning, or foregoing her own needs to outdo herself on his, and she did enjoy doing things for her son, but it wasn’t like the passion she had for and inspiration she drew from cultivating amazing relationships with her horses. Her face didn’t light up like the sun when she talked about being a mom. The excited energy that overflowed from her when she discussed those animals or got ready to do something with them wasn’t easy for just anyone to spot, but it was plain as day to André and he thought it adorable and precious alike, and unique to her. He never saw that quality- that consummation, almost- in any other girl.

“Have I ever told you how much I love how much you love your horses?”

“Yes, but I’ll never complain about having to hear things you love about me, if for no other reason than it would be hypocritical. I did write down 365 things I love about you and demand that you read every one.”

“Want to hear a joke?”

“No. You know what’s really sexy?”

“What?”

“The way English people say Sebastian. I just heard it on the radio. It has to be like a pretty-sounding English person though, not like Martin Brundle or any of the other people in F1. It’s no special thing when they say it.”

“Okay. Phone sex later?”

“Maybe. Call me. Spence! Lucky! Time to go!”

“Thanks for shouting in my ear,” the player said after recoiling at the cracking of Christina’s voice over the car speakers. Using the Bluetooth system meant she didn’t actually shout into his ear directly, but it was still an unpleasant noise.

“I always feel bad when I call for Spence and Lucky and Pepe comes running too and then I take them away and leave Pepe here.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t care. He wants to stay around Isa.”

“I know, but still.”

André kept his wife and his dogs company on their walk to the house. She asked some questions about what he did in training, and what the team was working on, and who was injured, and what he had for lunch. They continued to talk until her shower was running and her dirty clothes were in the laundry basket. He promised to send her pictures of Lukas playing at the bookstore and she promised not to send any pictures of artistically portrayed genitalia. Christina’s phone stayed busy while she showered. Juan texted her to say he was about to leave Cobham and intended to come over to get her, which implied he intended for her to sleep over at his place or that he would bring her home after dinner and stay the night, someone from adidas called to tell her they wanted an “emergency” meeting to show her samples of the second collection of tops and jackets bearing her name, and Natasha wanted to know how to cook skirt steak for tacos. All three got calls back regardless of the medium in which they made their inquiries, since it was easier to talk on the phone while picking clothes for the evening than typing messages.

Juan was warned that she was nowhere near being ready to leave. Adidas was informed they’d have to wait until Saturday, or Monday if they didn’t want to meet on a weekend. The rider was not giving up any part of her day off from life. Natasha was disappointed to learn that Christina’s skirt steak recipe required overnight marinating as she planned to cook it in a couple of hours. Her friend told her how to make it anyway. Choosing an outfit was much harder than answering everybody. Christina didn’t feel like wearing a dress, or sky-high heels for that matter. She didn’t feel like wearing a blazer, which was a go-to for nice-ish occasions when she didn’t wear a dress or skirt, because she hated wearing a blazer under a winter coat and there was a good chance Juan would want to walk from the exhibition to dinner so she couldn’t skip the coat. A sweater with skinny pants and boots seemed the best route to go down, but opened up countless possibilities and near infinite pairing choice. The rider decided to wait until she had no time left to choose- that the pressure of a hard deadline would make her decision easier. She went downstairs to have a snack and wait for Juan instead.

“Why is your mouth all pink and red?” he asked skeptically when she opened the door for him, before even saying hello.

“I made a pomegranate and berry smoothie,” Christina replied.

“It looks like you’ve been eating out a girl on her period.”

“Well that’s disgusting. Thanks for that visual,” she grumbled over her shoulder, having turned to head back to the kitchen and back to her all-fruit smoothie. “You couldn’t have gone with like, “sexy vampire feasting on hot guys”?”

“No. Hi Lucky, hi Spencer.” The Spaniard bent down to greet the excited terriers and then followed her. “Did you get a new tattoo?” he questioned just before she disappeared from the hallway around the corner.

“No I got kicked in the calf by my husband because he thought a straight red tackle was appropriate for playing an informal game of football with our 20-month-old son. That beautiful artwork on the back of my leg is a bruise.” The girl in the baggy tank top and boyshorts paused to show off the baseball-sized mark a little below the back of her knee. “Do you wanna read about how “revolutionary” my totally non-revolutionary horse management is?” Next to her blood red and very staining smoothie on the island counter was a magazine with an editorial about her and how she mixed old school fitness and nutrition principles with diversified training for mental health, and brand new technology. Christina adopted a policy of not reading about herself very often, but since the editorial wasn’t based on any interview she gave or even a conversation she could remember having, it piqued her interest. Suppositions about her always amused her in a disdainful sort of way. Juan looked over her shoulder at the magazine, but his interest might only have been an excuse to wrap his arms around her upper body and help himself to a tight hug. The proper greeting was fine with her, except that a snap on the sleeve of his leather jacket was embedded into her side.

“Do you really bring your own hypoallergenic bedding for the horses to every show?” His inquiry demonstrated that he was at least skimming the piece.

“No. I don’t even know if there is such a thing. I use really expensive bagged shavings though, instead of straw or the bulk loose shavings. I really hate straw and so does Tom, so if we go to a show that only provides straw, we bring our own bagged shavings. Most of the shows provide bagged shavings though,” Christina explained between sips from her extra-big straw. “I can’t decide what to wear tonight. Come upstairs and help me pick something.” She abruptly closed the periodical and chucked it near the mail pile, and then tried to walk away while still stuck in the hug. My hair is probably leaving a big wet spot on his chest, she thought. Juan wasn’t letting go of her, but he allowed her to walk.

“Wear a sexy dress and make the men at Sotheby’s even more uncomfortable.”

“I don’t feel like being considerate enough to wear a dress. A dress is work, you know. You have to remember not to sit with your legs open, or bend over too much, and it’s cold, and if it’s a tight dress then you can’t sit slumped over or there’s visible tummy bulge and stuff. Plus you have to wear heels, and that means looking out for sidewalk grates, and being mindful of shallow stairs, and-“

“Is this going to be one of those nights when you find something to complain about about everything?” the Spaniard asked dubiously once he released her from his grip. His ex-girlfriend held onto the inside of his left wrist though to tug him along toward the foyer, lest he hesitate. Her thumb and forefinger fit just between his watch and his hand. And she gave a whiny “no” in response to his question. He slowed her ability to pull him so that he could leave his shoes by the front door, so she let go and went upstairs without him to get a head start on the closet. The lead didn’t last very long. The player was on her heels again by the time she was walking by her bed, and it was his turn to grab her by the wrist. The only place he wanted to lead her was bed.

“Juaaaaniiiiiiin,” she complained as she found herself dragged to his lap. He sat at the foot of the bed and corralled her between his legs with his left arm around her body, this time from the front. “Whatever you have in mind, we don’t have time for,” Christina pouted. “And you’re gonna make me spill my drink and stain my carpet.”

“Well what were you doing all that time between when I said I was coming and now? It doesn’t take that long to blend fruit.”

“I was reading the next in the near-daily articles in the German news about why Schü and Mario don’t play,” she admitted disappointedly. André never acknowledged them, and never brought them to her attention, but stories from the likes of Bild, Die Welt, and WAZ still made their way to her eyes. Google, Twitter, and Instagram were all programmed to bring her news related to her interests, and her own last name was counted as an interest by their algorithms. They knew she posted content from Signal Iduna Park. They tracked her search history, which was riddled with her attempts to find photos of her horses and thus photos of herself. She was constantly bombarded with news she didn’t want to know about.

“How many games has it been?” Juan questioned curiously. He could always be relied upon not to bristle too much when Christina felt the need to discuss problems to do with the other player in her life.

“Just one. He sat the whole 90 minutes last weekend, but he played the whole game before that and made an assist for Marco, and he started the game before that too and scored a goal, so...I don’t know. They lost that game he scored in but it wasn’t his fault. He was, objectively, the best player in the game. I don’t know why he’s not playing. They didn’t even play well without him last weekend. They barely hung on to a 1-0. I guess the papers just like the “World Cup goal duo can’t get in the team” line.”

“In my experience, unless it’s a direct interview with a player or manager, the papers don’t say anything accurate or meaningful, cariña,” he reminded while she pulled on her straw, her lips still in a frown around it. “They have space to fill so they have to make news if there isn’t any.”

“I know, but it turns the fans’ opinion too. It makes the people who already hate that the club signed Schü and Mario feel vindicated in their vocal opposition, and it makes the undecided people start to question it. I hate it. I hate it for him. At least when he didn’t play at Chelsea he was so far under the radar that nobody really cared. How do you stand it when everyone is writing about you, and hypothesizing, and concluding? I know you know what it’s like.” Christina moved out of his arm to sit next to him on the bed, and leaned over on his shoulder with a figurative thud. I don’t even know why I’m talking about this, she realized while she waited for an answer. I read that editorial about me to forget all the stuff written about boyfriend, and now I’m back to that again.

“I just ignore. He does too. He knows better. I doubt the fans are on his back in the stadium.” The Spaniard had to shrug the suddenly downtrodden rider off his shoulder so that he could take his jacket off, and he patted her knees after folding it atop the black satin comforter that was in place specifically for her “day off from life” plans. “Come on. Show me the clothes options.”  

Christina arranged hangers around her dressing room with all the tops and sweaters she was willing to consider, and lined up the footwear choices, which included “dressy” wedge sneakers, low-heeled boots of varying heights, and two pairs of “manly” flats. Juan picked a white collared shirt, black pants, and knee-high brown boots, and she told him there was no way she was dressing as a pirate. Next he suggested a finely ribbed black turtleneck sweater with high-waisted skinny pants and booties with a stacked wooden heel. That was rejected on the basis that it would make it look like there was no torso between her waist and her chest, and that she had no sense of proportion. Three more ensembles were debated and discarded, and eventually the girl with too many clothes put on a short, shiny black blouson-top dress with a dropped waist and lots of shirring to make it easy and comfortable. The V-neck wasn’t low enough to require any special undergarment considerations, and the billowy sleeves made it feel like her thin cotton dressing gown. The footballer said it was cute, and she spiffed up the cheap dress with expensive bling and comfortable booties. He teased her and irritated her and got in the way the entire time she did her hair and makeup, and then they were off to his place so he could change too.